“I’m not a kid!” she growled.
Gameknight ignored the comment and turned to face Crafter.
“You said you had a distant relative who’d traveled to this stronghold?”
“His name was Builder and he was my Great-Nephew. For some reason, he was always getting into trouble when he was younger . . . going on dangerous adventures with the other village kids.”
“Sounds familiar,” Gameknight said, glancing at his sister.
She ignored him and kept her gaze straight ahead.
“Builder decided that he wanted to find the stronghold that was supposed to be somewhere near their village. He must have had a supply of Eyes of Ender, for he somehow knew where to look. All the other kids in the village heard what he was doing and wanted to go with him, but when the parents found out, they went straight to Builder’s parents. He was in big trouble and was forbidden to go.”
“Did he?” Monet asked.
“Of course he did,” Crafter answered. “Builder had a stubborn streak in him that he learned from his mother, Milky.”
Gameknight recognized the name and remembered the story Crafter had told him long ago.
“The next night, he snuck out of the village. Twenty other kids went with him and . . .” Crafter looked like he was about to cry, his voice cracked with emotion.
Monet reached out and placed a reassuring hand on his small shoulder. Crafter patted her hand with his and continued.
“We aren’t really sure what happened next,” Crafter said after clearing his throat.
Gameknight took a moment to check his surroundings, looking for any danger. They were still moving through the birch woods, but he could see the forest thinning out in the distance, snow starting to cover the ground. There were no monsters nearby . . . for now. But he knew this could change at any second.
“Why?” Gameknight asked.
Crafter cleared his throat again, emotion showing clearly on his square face.
“Because Builder was the only NPC child to survive the trip,” Crafter said loud enough for everyone to hear. “And when he returned, he was so terrified and guilt ridden that he eventually lost his mind.”
“Oh no, that’s terrible,” Monet said.
“All the other kids were . . .” Tiller started to say with a sob.
Crafter nodded.
“None were heard from again,” the young NPC said in a solemn voice. He held his hand up high, fingers spread wide. Many of the other villagers did the same, all of them giving the salute to the dead. “After years of questioning, the villagers were able to piece together a story, though much of it still makes no sense.”
“What happened?” Gameknight asked as his eyes scanned the trees again.
“The villagers determined that Builder must have been going through an ice spikes biome when he found the stronghold,” Crafter explained.
“Why do you think it was an ice spikes biome?” Gameknight asked. “Those are very rare.”
“He said something about the twin pillars of ice pointing the way. It seemed likely that he was in an ice spikes biome, and there must have been two towers of ice near the stronghold.”
As he spoke, the villagers moved out of the forest and started to cross snowy rolling hills. Instantly, Digger sent out riders in all directions to check for monsters. None of the NPCs liked being out in the open like this; they preferred places that were defendable, and the open plains were anything but that.
Everyone in the village was completely silent as they moved across the snow, their square feet making the snow crunch underfoot. He could see many drawing their weapons, expecting monsters to come charging over the tall hill in front of them, but as the riders returned with smiles on their faces, the NPCs relaxed a bit.
“Crafter, please continue,” Gameknight said as he put away his own sword.
“OK . . . well, Builder apparently found something near the ice twins. He also said something about the twins pointing to the father, but nobody ever figured out what that meant. Anyway, somehow he found the entrance to the stronghold and went in.
“As we all know, strongholds can be dangerous places. There are always lots of monsters about and it’s easy to get lost in the maze of passages. And for some reason, they are always near lava ravines or deep crevasses. We don’t know what he found at this stronghold, but he kept saying something about jumping a lot. My Great-Uncle Carver thought that he meant some kind of extreme parkour, but nobody was sure. What they were certain of was that Builder was scared out of his mind, literally, and never came to his senses until the day he died.”
“Did he say anything else about the stronghold?” Gameknight asked.
“He did say one thing over and over,” Crafter said, “and everybody figured that this was what scared him into insanity.”
He paused for moment as the company came to the foot of the large hill. The Eyes of Ender were saying that they had to climb the hill. Digger sent a group of soldiers up to the top of the hill to make sure zombies weren’t waiting for them on the other side. As the warriors jumped up the blocks and climbed the hill, the rest of the NPCs waited at the bottom, catching their breaths.
“Well,” Hunter shouted, her voice piercing the silence and shocking everyone a little. “What did Builder say?”
“Oh yeah,” Crafter mumbled. “What was I saying . . . OK, I remember . . . he used to mumble something about . . . the swarm.”
“The swarm?” Monet asked, her colorful armor standing out against the white snow that frosted the ground, her fluorescent blue hair spilling out from under her helmet. “What was that supposed to mean?”
“Nobody could ever figure that out,” Crafter answered. “My grandfather, Grampa Carver, who was just a boy at the time, told me once that he thought it was some kind of mob that attacked him and destroyed all those other kids, but nobody really knew for sure. In the end, they knew only two things for sure.”
“Everyone, come up here!” yelled one of the warriors who had climbed the hill ahead of them. “You all have to see this!”
Moving as one, the NPCs started to climb the hill.
“Well?” Hunter asked.
“What?” Crafter responded.
She let out an exasperated groan. “What two things did they learn?”
“Oh yeah . . .” Crafter continued, “the first thing was a sad thing; those other kids were never heard from again. And the second thing was that Builder hadn’t been afraid of anything before that trip to the stronghold, so whatever it was that scared him that much . . . it must have been horrific.”
They all considered Crafter’s words as they climbed the hill, Gameknight mulling over what he had learned. When he reached the top, he was still looking down at his feet, trying to puzzle out the meaning of Crafter’s story. But the sound of gasps from everyone brought him back to the now. Drawing his sword in a fluid movement, he readied himself for battle. When he looked up, he didn’t see spiders . . . or zombies . . . or creepers. Instead, he saw gigantic crystalline towers of ice reaching up toward the sky, the glacial blue standing out against the soft white snow. They were ice spikes, thousands of them.
Looking around, Gameknight realized that they had just entered the ice spikes biome, and in the distance he could see two gigantic spikes that must have stretched up at least forty blocks if not more, their features looking identical.
“The Twins,” someone said next to him. Turning, he found Herder standing at his side, three wolves trailing behind him, the rest of the pack guarding the perimeter. White boxy clouds of steam billowed from his mouth when he breathed, the arctic air making its presence known. Gameknight could feel a chill settle over his body, the brisk cold nibbling on his ears and cheeks.
“Must be,” Monet replied from his other shoulder.
Gameknight looked at the mighty ice spikes with awe. As if they were two gigantic frozen daggers trying to stab at the sun, they stretched straight upward, each no more than ten blocks from its brother.
“Look there,” Crafter said, pointing past the twins.
In the distance, they could just barely make out the presence of an even larger ice tower that dwarfed the twins with its height and breadth.
“That must be the Father that Builder referred to,” Hunter said, her breath creating square clouds of mist as she spoke.
Digger moved near the cluster of villagers and threw an Eye of Ender into the sky. It streaked straight toward the Twins and the Father in the distance.
“At least we know we are heading in the right direction,” Digger said and he put away the rest of the Eyes.
“But not what we face when we get there,” Gameknight added as he shivered, not with cold, but with fear.
CHAPTER 8
SHAIKULUD
Herobrine materialized in front of Crafter’s village, the iron doors that led past the fortified wall standing wide open, the walls and watchtowers abandoned. Turning, he surveyed the surroundings, looking for any sign of life—there was none. Moving through the door, he stepped into the village and gazed about at the empty buildings. In front of him was a large open area with tall towers placed here and there . . . archer towers; they had been used in the defense of this village against the King of the Endermen, Erebus. At his feet, he could feel the rough gravel blocks that covered the area. Beneath this layer of gravel lay a deep pit filled with water. By activating the right redstone circuits, Herobrine knew that these gravel blocks would fall away and trap any invaders in the pit below. That annoying User-that-is-not-a-user had used this quite effectively during that first historic battle for Minecraft.
The glow from his eyes grew bright as he thought about his nemesis, Gameknight999. He had to find him and force him to use the Gateway of Light.
“I will not be trapped in this ridiculous game for one instant longer than necessary,” he said to no one.
Scowling, he moved quickly through the village, confirming that no one was there. The hunter had been correct; they were all gone.
Closing his eyes, Herobrine teleported out onto the plane that stood before the village’s walls, reappearing right where he’d fought Gameknight999. Smiling, he thought about the look of terror and defeat that had covered the User-that-is-not-a-user’s face when his enemy realized that Herobrine could not be defeated. It had been delicious.
But then his smile turned to a frown when he looked out at the forest and saw nothing, no villagers . . . no Gameknight999. Staring down at the ground, he could see where the villagers had struck out for the forest, the matted grass still bent over from the trampling of all those feet.
“At least I know what direction you are heading . . . northeast,” Herobrine said.
But he knew that the trail would quickly disappear within the forest.
What are you up to, Gameknight999? he thought.
Closing his eyes, Herobrine silently disappeared and materialized in a dense jungle that butted up against an extreme hills biome. Looking out across the landscape, he could see steep hills stretching high up into the sky as if they’d somehow been pinched and molded by gigantic fingers. The sheer faces of these hills were unscalable, their sides just too steep, forcing those that moved through this area to travel along the narrow ravines that snaked their way between the tall mountains.
Turning around, he glanced at the jungle that sat nestled against this sharp, hilly terrain. It was the densest jungle he’d ever seen, with junglewood trees scant three or four blocks apart. Vines hung down from the overhead canopy, draping over everything and giving the jungle the appearance that it was actually just a single gigantic leafy plant. Glowing behind the vines, he could see the bright brownish-orange cocoa pods. They stood out like little orange lanterns against all the green that filled the jungle.
“Trees . . . so many trees,” Herobrine growled.
Too many for me to destroy, he thought to himself.
He could feel the sneaking eyes of the old hag within those leaves and knew he was being watched.
Fine, let her watch!
“That’s right, go ahead and watch, old woman!” he shouted to the trees. “Your end draws near.”
He then turned away from the jungle and walked toward the nearest mountain. It stood not more than ten paces from the edge of the jungle, its steep face made of rock and dirt with a sprinkling of coal ore here and there. At the base of the hill stood a huge opening to a dark tunnel that plunged downward into the bowels of the mountain. Standing before the entranceway, Herobrine thought it looked something like the yawning maw of some kind of subterranean beast. Pulling out a stack of blocks, he reached up and placed a few cubes of stone here and there, adding boxy teeth to the mouth and making the entrance look a little scarier.
Stepping back, he admired his work. The tunnel now looked more vicious . . . more terrifying.
Herobrine smiled.
Putting the blocks of stone back in his inventory, he moved into the tunnel. The sounds of innumerable spiders filled the stony passage, their clicking echoing off the shadowy walls. This was Shaikulud’s nest.
Moving quickly through the rocky passages, he followed the tunnel’s winding path as it descended deeper and deeper into the depths of Minecraft. The tunnel branched, separating into two tunnels. Moving to the intersection, Herobrine could clearly hear the clicking spiders in one of the tunnels and instantly could tell which way to go. Continuing his journey, he moved through intersection after intersection. He knew that these extreme hills biomes always had huge cave systems. That was something that he liked about these types of terrains.
The sounds of spiders grew louder and louder and he went deeper underground. They liked it where it was cold and damp; far from the level of lava, but also far from the surface. That middle zone was the spider zone, and that was his destination. Moving faster, Herobrine started to use his teleportation powers to traverse long straight tunnels where he could see his destination. He hadn’t been in Shaikulud’s nest for a long, long time and was uncertain if he could teleport to her cavern. If he missed and teleported into solid rock, then . . . he wasn’t sure what would happen and didn’t want to find out. Moving faster and faster, Herobrine started to sprint as the clicking sounds grew to the volume of a thousand castanets. Turning one last corner, he was there.
The tunnel had led him to a massive chamber, probably as large as any zombie-town, with a ceiling that stretched up at least fifty blocks high. Everywhere he saw spiderwebs, the white fluffy structures standing out against the dark stone walls. Each web seemed to hold an egg shaded black with red dots adorning the surface. Herobrine knew that these were the next crop of spiders to be produced in this nest. Throughout the chamber, he could see with his glowing eyes the smaller cave spiders tending to the eggs. They were the males in the nest, the Brothers. The larger black spiders were Sisters.
Some of the spiders charged at him, thinking he was some kind of foolish, suicidal NPC, but as they approached with their sharp curved claws extended, Herobrine let his eyes flare bright, filling the massive chamber with light. Instantly, the spiders stopped their attack and lowered their heads, bowing to their master.
Suddenly, the clicking of the spiders stopped. At the center of the cavern, Herobrine could see a black spider larger than all the rest slowly lower herself to the ground on a long thread of silk. This spider had the look of age about her, with patches of gray hair spotting her fuzzy skin, a look of ancient fatigue on her face. She had the same bodily form as the other spiders, however, her eyes glowed an evil purple instead of the normal menacing red of the Sisters and Brothers. But the eyes weren’t just bright and purple. As with all Herobrine’s creations, the eyes glowed with a frightening radiance that spread out across her face. It gave this spider queen the appearance of something sinister and evil, as if her creation was for only one purpose . . . to make others suffer.
Herobrine smiled.
“Come here, Shaikulud,” Herobrine said as he stood in his position, waiting for her to come to him. “We have much to
discuss.”
The spider moved carefully around the multitude of eggs that were scattered across the cavern floor. As she moved, the smaller cave spiders, the Brothers, scurried out of the way, making room for their queen. When she reached Herobrine, she lowered her head and bowed.
“What issss it that the Maker commandssss?” Shaikulud said.
“You will send out your spiders to search for the User-that-is-not-a-user,” Herobrine commanded. “I want to know where he and his village are hiding. When you find them, you are to report to me.”
“The Maker’ssss commandssss will be obeyed.”
“Events are rapidly converging,” he continued. “I can feel all the pieces in this game coming together just as I have foreseen. When the new hatchlings arrive, there will be enough spiders to destroy all the NPCs and claim the Overworld for spiders everywhere.”
“What of the greenssss?” Shaikulud asked.
Herobrine knew that she was referring to the zombies.
“They will help in this matter . . . I have commanded it. As we speak, they are using the zombie-portals to come here from the other servers. Soon we will have a massive army of zombies that will aid in the spiders’ war.”
“Not spiders’sss war . . . the Maker’ssss war,” Shaikulud corrected.
Herobrine nodded, then turned to look up at all the eggs that were attached to the walls and ceilings.
“Send some of your best scouts out to pass to word. The search for the User-that-is-not-a-user must start NOW!”
The spider queen bowed her head, then turned and spoke to the nearest cave spider.
“Son, bring me Shalir, Shabriri, Shintalli, and Shaxal.”
The small blue spider moved off, scurrying into the shadows. In a minute, he returned with four giant spiders, each looking especially vile and dangerous. This made Herobrine smile.
“My daughterssss, you are to spread the word to the other nestssss,” Shaikulud commanded. “The User-that-is-not-a-user issss to be found. Hissss location issss to be reported to me. No livessss shall be spared in thissss venture. Issss thissss understood?”
The Jungle Temple Oracle Page 6