Overworld in Flames

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Overworld in Flames Page 10

by Mark Cheverton


  “What else is there?” Butch asked as he rolled his eyes.

  Many of the villagers began to talk all at once, some murmuring then glancing toward Gameknight999.

  “Potions. We need splash potions so that we can protect each other while we’re fighting the monsters of the Nether,” the User-that-is-not-a-user said. “Without fire resistance potions, we won’t stand a chance against those super-hot fireballs. Just ask the villagers that didn’t return from the forest.”

  This last comment cut like a knife through butter. The NPCs now turned their eyes toward Gameknight999, many nodding their heads.

  “Morgana can make fire resistance potions for us,” the User-that-is-not-a-user explained. “We can each carry a couple of splash potions and use them on ourselves or on those around us. If we see someone taking damage, we can hit them with a potion and keep them safe. This will give us the edge we need to survive a battle with the blaze king.”

  More NPCs nodded their square heads.

  “Where is Morgana?” Crafter asked.

  “Here,” she replied with a scratchy, aged voice.

  The old witch stood near the tunnel that led from the village to Gameknight’s castle. Her purple smock was stained and dirty, likely from the ingredients used in her many brewing stations. Her hat, like a black triangle, sat askew on her head as she stared back at Crafter.

  “Can you make the potions we need?” Gameknight asked. “Do you have all the ingredients you need?”

  “I have everything except for one thing,” she replied.

  “What’s that?” Crafter asked. “Name it and it will be given.”

  “I don’t think it’ll be that easy to find,” the old woman warned.

  “Tell us what you need, witch … now!” Butch commanded with a hint of disgust.

  Morgana glared at Butch as she reached into her smock and withdrew a splash potion of poison.

  “You might need a lesson in politeness,” the witch growled.

  Butch took a step toward her, but Gameknight quickly moved between them.

  “Morgana, what is it that you need to give us the splash potions?” Gameknight asked.

  “Gunpowder,” she said. “All the gunpowder has been used up to make TNT. There is none left in the storerooms. Without gunpowder, you can’t have splash potions.”

  “Then just give us the regular potions, and we’ll drink them right before the battle,” Butch said, his tone still disrespectful.

  This time, Morgana was the one to take a step forward.

  “You should watch your tone,” she chided.

  Butch growled, but then grew silent as Stitcher laid a calming hand on the big NPC’s sword arm.

  “They must be splash potions,” Gameknight said. “If you’ve ever been in battle and tried to drink a potion, you know how hard it is. You have to put away your sword and then pull out the potion, then drink it while you are being attacked. It doesn’t work very well, especially if you have fireballs falling down upon your head. No, it has to be splash potions, so that we can throw them onto each other when we’re in trouble. We need the gunpowder.” He turned and faced Crafter. “Where can we get lots of it?”

  “The only way to get gunpowder is to destroy a creeper,” Hunter said. “I’m all for going after creepers, but I fear it will take us a long time to find enough to be useful. We may have to do this without the gunpowder.”

  “No, we must have it!” Gameknight exclaimed.

  “Maybe there is another way …” Crafter said, scratching his chin and thinking.

  “What do you mean?” Gameknight asked.

  The young NPC didn’t answer. Instead, he scanned the crowd until he found a specific NPC.

  “Bookman, did the library survive the fires?” Crafter asked.

  “Yes,” the librarian answered. “Gameknight put out the fires himself.”

  “Excellent. Come with me,” Crafter said as he ran toward the library, Bookman right on his heels.

  In a few minutes, the pair returned. Crafter was carrying a book that looked like the ones Gameknight had seen in the stronghold libraries: an old, leather-bound tome that was dusty and worn.

  “Crafter, what is that?” Herder asked.

  “It was copied from one of the stronghold libraries,” Crafter explained. “We all know the books in those libraries cannot be removed from the underground strongholds, so they must be copied in order to have them in the village’s library. I remember reading this one when I was just a child.”

  He opened it and turned to a specific page.

  “It is the story from someone a long time ago, who said they found an underground creeper village, where all the creepers live,” Crafter said.

  “Who was this person?” Hunter asked.

  “Let’s see … her name was Archer, and she was captured by creepers,” Crafter said. “It says she was forced to work for them, digging and excavating with other NPC slaves, but she was able to escape. She barely made it back to a nearby village. They recorded her story, then put the writing in the stronghold library.”

  “Does it say where the creeper hive is located?” Stitcher asked.

  “Let me see …” he skimmed through the text until he found the end of the passage. “It says the creeper hive is deep underground. ‘The creeper hive is hidden under a mountain of flame where the lava meets the sea.’”

  “I know where that is!” Digger exclaimed. “There’s a volcano right on the coast. It is continually burning and smoking, with a constant flow of lava that spills down the side and pours into the ocean. The hive must be under that volcano.”

  “Then we need to find that creeper hive and destroy lots of creepers in order to get their gunpowder?” Digger said.

  “No, there may be another way,” Crafter said. “We can get our gunpowder if we can stay undetected. In the creeper hive, there lies a pile of gunpowder bigger than anything anyone has ever seen … at least that is how the legend goes.”

  “Nobody goes into a creeper hive and survives,” Hunter said. “Even I’m not crazy enough to do that. Creeper hives equal certain death. They probably have millions of tunnels that go in all different directions.”

  “But that’s where the gunpowder is, so that’s where we have to go,” Gameknight said.

  “I’m not going on this pointless adventure,” Butch huffed. “I’m going to the Nether, and I’m going to attack this blaze king and destroy him.”

  “You won’t stand a chance,” Gameknight said. “You remember how many blazes they have down there? We don’t have a wither to help us this time, nor do we have an army of users to show up right when we need them.” Gameknight paused as he scanned the faces around him. “No one in the physical world knows I’m down here this time. It’s late at night, and everyone’s asleep at my house. We’re on our own. If you go to the Nether, it will cause the deaths of everyone with you.”

  “I am not afraid, nor are the warriors in this great village,” Butch said. He paused as he considered his options. “But we will wait for you and your gunpowder as we make new weapons and armor. However, we will not wait long. The blazes are likely still trying to destroy more forests and villages. We must act soon, before it is too late.”

  Gameknight again scanned the faces of the villagers. He could see most of them staring at Butch, ready to follow him anywhere.

  There was a time when they looked at me like that, Gameknight thought. I used to be important, but now I feel insignificant, like a bug in Butch’s shadow.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Gameknight muttered. “I have to do what I think is right.”

  “What?” Hunter asked next to him.

  “Nothing,” he replied. “Let’s go get us some gunpowder.”

  CHAPTER 16

  THE MONSTER SCHEME

  The king of the blazes flared bright with rage.

  “What do you mean, ‘The village still stands’?!” he screamed, his wheezing mechanical voice making him sound like an enraged robot. “My orders w
ere to destroy everything. Instead, you return and tell me that not only did you not destroy the village, but you also lost twenty-five blazes to the villagers.”

  “We did not expect the villagers to fight back,” the blaze general said. “In all the other villages, the NPCs just cringed and cried out in fear while we destroyed everything around them. This time it was different. This time they weren’t afraid to fight back.”

  “Excuses will not get the job done,” Charybdis wheezed, his eyes glowing with annoyance. “I need results.”

  “But they charged toward us instead of away,” the general said. “The NPCs in this village had courage and were not afraid of us like the others.”

  Charybdis rose from his throne and slowly settled to the ground; the blaze rods that formed his body glowed a bright orange as they spun around his internal flame. He settled directly in front of the generals, his eyes intense with rage.

  “We must destroy that village,” the blaze king wheezed. “Their spirit of defiance must not spread to the other villages. If it does, it could make our task more difficult.”

  “I will personally lead your blaze army against them right away,” the general said.

  “Not yet, you fool,” Charybdis snapped. “We need a bigger army. It is important that they are all erased from the face of Minecraft. When you go to that village, you will have a hundred blazes with you. They will be so overwhelmed by the number of monsters under your command that the villagers will just drop their weapons and give in to their fate—destruction.” He leaned closer to his commander. A white-hot ball of fire began to form under the king’s body, ready to be launched. “I will not tolerate another failure. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, I understand,” the monster said, nodding his glowing head up and down vigorously.

  “Now go and check on the blazes that are due to hatch.”

  “But that is a task for the lowliest of monsters,” the general complained.

  “That is your punishment for failing to destroy the village the first time!” the king of the blazes wheezed. “I want all blazes to see your humiliation. Maybe next time you won’t fail me when I give you a command.”

  The general’s blaze rods slowed their rotation around his central flame as his fire grew momentarily dim.

  “Now GO!” Charybdis shouted. “Be thankful that I did not just destroy you for your incompetence.”

  “Yes, Sire … thank you,” the general said in the meekest of mechanical voices, then turned and left the throne room. Charybdis laughed as the blaze floated out of the gathering chamber. The king then slowly rose into the hazy air and moved to a balcony that extended out of the side of his massive fortress.

  Before him was the Nether’s Great Lava Ocean. Rusty-red netherrack blocks stretched out in all directions. In many places, the blocks were burning, the flames forever alive and dancing over the ruddy blocks. Rivers of lava crisscrossed throughout the landscape, adding to the perpetual orange glow as the molten stone flowed lazily toward the ocean. In some places, lava fell from the rocky ceiling, splashing down and creating wide pools or falling directly into the ocean.

  He could see the idiotic zombie-pigmen patrolling the area. They were useless; they wouldn’t raise an alarm unless one of the invaders accidently bumped into them. High overhead, the feline-like cries of the ghasts filled the air. Their pale white bodies and nine dangling tentacles stood out against the reddish-brown netherrack blocks that covered most of the Nether. The gigantic floating gasbags tended to stay near the ceilings and never strayed low where danger might show its face. Since the destruction of their king, Malacoda, the ghasts had been timid and afraid of everything in Minecraft.

  One of the ghasts floated low over the lava ocean and allowed its tentacles to drag through the molten stone, feeding on the heat. Cat-like sounds came from the pale monster as its health increased. In the distance, the blaze king could just barely make out the scars under its two dark eyes; those tear-like markings were a punishment for deeds committed during the Great Zombie Invasion. All ghasts carried the marks … and the shame. But soon, their shame would be erased when the monsters of the Nether took over Minecraft. When Charybdis released lava all across the Overworld, then these ghasts would again be free to roam the skies. But that would not happen until the biomes overhead were destroyed and the NPCs were eradicated. Then the landscape could be properly changed from that terrible green color to something more suitable—like netherrack.

  A blaze moved down the ornate steps that led out of the Nether fortress. Charybdis saw it was his general and laughed again at his humiliation. Blazes followed the shamed monster, watching his punishment carried out. Slowly, the commander waded into the lava until he disappeared beneath the orange glowing liquid.

  Charybdis knew the general would find the floor of the great ocean covered in yellow eggs with splotches of gold on them—their hatching ground. Soon, his new blazes would emerge from their flaming bath and feed on the fires of the Great Lava Ocean. His new blazes would grow strong, and with the magic left by the Maker, they would be more dangerous than ever. His massive army of monsters would cover the Overworld with their balls of fire, destroying everything in their path.

  The blaze king smiled, then began to laugh an evil, wheezing laugh as his internal flame grew bright with malicious joy.

  CHAPTER 17

  SEARCH FOR THE HIVE

  After getting a little sleep through what was left of the night, the NPCs woke early in the morning and started to collect provisions: fresh horses, food, weapons, and, of course, new armor. All of their old armor was singed and cracked. Crafter went to considerable effort to repair their enchanted armor rather than replace it; the strong enchantments on the diamond plates would be a difficult loss. As they prepared, Herder disappeared down into the crafting chamber. When Gameknight went searching for him, the workers said he’d last been seen next to the minecart network, mumbling something about “special friends.”

  Confused, Gameknight nevertheless knew he couldn’t spend too much time worrying about what his friend was up to. He returned to the surface to check on the others. But when he reached the village well, the gathering point for the expedition, he only found Hunter and Stitcher.

  “Where are the rest of the warriors?” Gameknight asked.

  “Butch,” Hunter replied.

  “What?”

  “Butch convinced the other warriors that it was more important to stay here and prepare for the war with the blazes,” Stitcher explained. “None of them are going with us.”

  “What about Crafter and Digger?” Gameknight asked.

  “I thought it better if we stayed here and watched over things in the village,” said a voice from behind them.

  Gameknight turned and found Crafter walking toward him, a concerned expression on his face.

  “What’s this all about?” Gameknight complained. “We’re heading to a place that apparently only one person in the history of Minecraft has ever returned from, and all the warriors are staying here?”

  Crafter sighed.

  “Does everyone just do what Butch says now?” Gameknight asked. “What about me? What about the User-that-is-not-a-user … does anyone remember him anymore?”

  “I know you’re frustrated, but tensions are really high,” Crafter explained. “Now that the sun has risen, everyone can see the devastation out there in the forest. Peoples’ tempers sort of boiled over at sunrise, and now they’re really angry and ready for action.”

  “Are they going to the Nether?” Gameknight asked.

  “No. I convinced them to wait for your return,” Crafter answered. “But I don’t know how long I can keep them here. Riders have been sent out through the minecart network to gather more NPCs and bring them here to increase the size of our force. But if they get enough troops before your return, they might just decide to leave for the Nether early.”

  “There aren’t enough troops to battle those blazes without these potions. Don’t they realize tha
t?”

  Crafter shook his head.

  “I’ll do what I can to keep them from leaving, but you have to hurry.”

  Just then, Digger came walking up with four horses in tow. Gameknight was happy to see his white-spotted gray mare. The others wanted new horses, but the User-that-is-not-a-user had become accustomed to Trigger and had opted to keep her for this journey.

  Hunter and Stitcher both mounted and made their way to the village gates. Gameknight swung up into his saddle and gazed sadly down upon the lone black horse remaining without a rider, five large white splotches across its boxy frame. It was Herder’s horse.

  “Any idea where he is?” Gameknight asked.

  “No one seems to know,” Digger answered.

  “You can’t wait,” Crafter said. “You have to get going. Speed is paramount in this venture. Do you understand?”

  The User-that-is-not-a-user nodded, then pulled on the reins and headed for the village entrance. The three friends passed through the gates in a strained silence. Gameknight was frustrated that the warriors had abandoned them, but he was also concerned about Herder and his disappearance.

  After crossing the wooden bridge, they turned their mounts away from the rising sun and headed west toward the volcano that sat on the other side of the horizon. With no delays, they would reach their destination in a day … maybe less, if they didn’t run into any monsters.

  Kicking their horses to a trot, they rode through the tall grass and examined the destruction to their left. The devastated forest still smoked in places, but for the most part the fires had been extinguished. Nothing stood in the biome other than the occasional stump, but even those were few. Now, with the smoke cleared, the beautiful forest biome looked like an ashen desert. Nothing moved, nothing was alive, and not a sound was heard from that wounded landscape. Whatever animals had been in the forest at the time of the attack had either fled or had been destroyed. Now, no living creature would want to set foot in that area again. It made Gameknight boil with anger, and he understood the rage that was driving the NPCs back at the village. Still, that was no reason to go running off to the Nether to face an enemy of unknown size.

 

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