A long passageway stretched out to the left and right, the walls made of stone brick. Green moss could be seen encroaching along the walls as the sluggishly creeping lichen gradually invaded over the centuries. Running his hand across the cool blocks, Gameknight could feel that some of the bricks were cracked and worn with age. In the darkness, he could barely make out what was at the end of the hallway, though he could see the rough outline of something.
Placing a torch on the wall, Gameknight could see that the tunnel extended about twelve blocks in both directions, then reached a corner where the passageway turned. Iron bars were built into the stone walls and across the ceiling; likely they were supports to help hold up the ceiling. Moving to the metal support, Gameknight ran his blocky hand along the cold metal. The surface felt rough and pitted as rust had slowly eaten away at the bars over the years.
“OK, we need to find the library as quickly as possible,” Gameknight explained. “I’m sure that Herobrine knows we’re here. If not, then that bat will likely inform someone, so we don’t have a lot of time. Crafter, any idea where we are?”
“We need to find the fountain room,” the young NPC said. “Once we’re there, then I think I can find the library.”
Gameknight looked at the NPCs. There were twelve of them, counting himself. He wished there were more, but he didn’t want to unnecessarily risk more lives.
“We should split up into groups of four and choose different passages to search,” Gameknight said. “Plant torches behind you so that you know where you are going. Put them on the right side of the passage. When you’ve cleared a room, put torches on the left and right sides of the door. If you see a blank wall, break a few blocks to see if there is a hidden room on the other side. To get back here, follow the torches but have them on the left side. Hopefully no one will get lost. When anyone finds the library, yell and head back here. Everyone got it?”
They nodded, then went off in different directions.
Gameknight stayed with Hunter, Crafter, and Digger. They followed the passage to the right, then took a set of cobblestone stairs that led down to the next shadowy level. Right away, they found a chest sitting on a stone slab, blocks placed on either side of the wooden box. Moving carefully to check for traps, Gameknight cautiously opened the chest. The hinges creaked and groaned as the lid lifted, dust billowing into the air. Inside, he found some bread, an apple, and some iron ingots; he thought the iron might come in handy.
Collecting the contents, Gameknight closed the lid, then glanced down the passage and shuddered. Darkness shrouded the corridor. Placing a torch, light spilled outward, showing an empty brick hallway with iron bars embedded into cracked brick blocks and more mossy green blocks decorating the walls. Continuing on, they moved through the dim passages, carefully putting torches on the right wall.
Suddenly, a spider dropped down from the ceiling, landing right in front of Crafter. Before he could swing his sword, Digger hammered away at the monster with his pickaxe. Gameknight was shocked at the ferocity of his attack; the pick moved in a continuous blur, streaking at the monster too fast to be seen. The spider never had a chance.
“Thanks, Digger,” Crafter said.
The big NPC smiled, then moved forward, checking the next passage.
A sorrowful moan drifted through the stone corridor, echoing off the walls and making it impossible to tell from which direction the wail originated.
“Zombies,” Gameknight whispered. “We need to be careful.”
Digger looked back at the User-that-is-not-a-user and nodded, then continued to lead the way, Hunter at his side, with Crafter placing the torches on the wall and Gameknight999 watching their rear. As they moved forward, they passed what Gameknight knew to be prison cells; the walls constructed with iron bars, the iron door standing open.
The zombie wail sounded louder; they were getting closer.
Gripping his sword firmly, Gameknight followed behind his friends, glancing frequently over his shoulder to make sure there were no monsters sneaking up on them. Ahead, he could see an iron door in the distance. The moans sounded as if they were coming from the other side. The party approached cautiously, weapons drawn but torches stored in their inventory; they didn’t want to give away their presence.
Moving up to the door, Gameknight stood next to the iron button.
“Are all of you ready?” Gameknight whispered to his friends in the dark.
They all nodded.
“Crafter, you place a torch as soon as I open the door,” Gameknight said. “We want to lure them into this room.”
The young NPC nodded.
“Ready . . . now.”
He hit the switch, causing the door to swing open. Instantly the hallway erupted with the moans and growls of zombies. Suddenly the room flared with light as Crafter planted his torch. Moving to face the door, Gameknight was shocked to see four villager-zombies, their pupils bright red. They swung their sharp black claws at him, but Hunter was too quick for them. Her iron sword tore into the monster, slowly whittling away at its HP. Gameknight turned to attack another creature, spinning to the left while his sword hit the monster’s side. Stepping back, he let the creature come to him. Then he suddenly jumped into the air as he charged toward the monster, his sword swinging down onto the creature.
It disappeared with a pop!
Without waiting to see what it dropped, Gameknight turned to face the next beast; this one was charging toward Crafter. Its claws gleamed in the torchlight, making them appear to be glowing. Swinging low, he struck at the monster’s legs while Crafter attacked up high. The zombie flashed red as their two swords sliced through the creature.
Pop . . . it disappeared.
A lone zombie now stood before them. Digger had it cornered, his big pickaxe ready to come down on the creature. Gameknight could see that its HP was almost depleted; a single hit would destroy the monster. Slowly, he approached.
“Where is the fountain room?” Gameknight asked.
The monster unconsciously glanced down the passage to the left.
Gameknight smiled.
The monster then looked up at the letters hovering over Gameknight’s head, but then looked higher. The monster noticed the lack of a server thread, and realization of who Gameknight was came across the decaying face.
“The Maker searches for this . . . user,” the zombie growled.
“I know that,” Gameknight answered. “But the Maker, as you call him, is not going to find me.”
“The Maker gave all zombies a message for the User-that-is-not-a-user,” the creature said, his voice grumbling, almost like an animal.
Gameknight pitied this creature. He had at one time been a villager, but a zombie had infected him, and now he was this thing that stood before him. The NPC’s mind had been changed from one that valued life to one that only wanted to destroy . . . it was sad.
“What is your message, zombie?” Hunter asked. “Tell us and we may let you live.”
“The Maker told all zombies to destroy the NPCs of the Overworld until the User-that-is-not-a-user surrenders. Until that time, the zombies from all the servers will come to this server and punish those who claim the Overworld. The second great zombie invasion has begun and will only end with the surrender of the User-that-is-not-a-user.”
The zombie looked at the NPCs, then back to Gameknight999.
“The message has been received?” the zombie asked.
“Yes, I heard your message!” Gameknight snapped.
The villager-zombie then almost looked contented, as if its suffering were about to be over. Growling, it then charged at Gameknight999, razor sharp claws extended. The three NPCs swung their weapons at the creature before it had even moved a single step. It disappeared with a pop, leaving behind some zombie flesh and three glowing balls of XP. Gameknight could have sworn that at the moment of the zombie-villager’s death, he’d seen it smile.
“Quickly, this way,” Crafter said as he bolted down the passageway to the
left.
The others followed close behind as they moved through the dark corridors. Crafter placed torches as he went, Hunter and Digger at his side, Gameknight bringing up the rear. After about ten blocks, they reached a wooden door. Opening it carefully, they found a large, dark room, the sound of trickling water coming from the shadows. When Crafter placed a torch on the wall, the sight of a huge blue fountain greeted them. Water flowed out of a pedestal that had been placed exactly at the center of the room, the liquid falling into a recession that had been carved around the fountain.
“This is it,” Crafter said as he looked about the room. “Hunter, Digger, both of you go back and bring the others. This is where our search really begins.”
“This is where it begins?” Hunter asked. “What have we been doing all this time, just playing around?”
“Go now. Quickly,” the young NPC said.
“Come on, Hunter,” Digger said in his deep, booming voice. “We’ll follow the torches back and find the others.”
The two NPCs moved on, leaving Crafter and Gameknight999 alone.
Together, they moved about the room, placing torches and driving away the shadows. Clouds of dust swirled up into the air as their feet shuffled across the stone floor, making Gameknight want to sneeze. The sound of their feet echoed off the walls and came back to them from every direction, the only other sound being the trickling of water. It was clear that nobody had been in this room for a very, very long time. The lonely echoes of their feet made Gameknight feel as if they were completely alone, cut off from time and transported back to ancient days.
As they walked the perimeter of the chamber, the User-that-is-not-a-user suddenly thought he could hear some kind of sound . . . almost like a swishing-squeaking sound. He knew that he’d heard it before, but couldn’t remember from where. It was a difficult sound to place with all the echoes and the trickling of water . . . impossible to recognize. But what he did know was the sound meant trouble, and it was somewhere down here in this stronghold . . . waiting for them.
CHAPTER 12
THE LIBRARY
In about five minutes, the sound of footsteps started to echo down the hallway and reach their ears. The other NPCs joined Gameknight and Crafter in the fountain room, led there by Digger, with Hunter bringing up the rear.
“Sorry it took so long,” Digger said.
“We had to save some of these knuckleheads from a group of creepers,” Hunter added.
“They had us trapped in a storage room,” Planter said, lowering his head. “We didn’t want to cause any to explode and set them all off . . . there were a lot of them.”
“Didn’t you ever hear about this new thing called fighting?” Hunter mocked. “I’ve told you a hundred times, when you see a creeper, you charge and don’t let it finish its ignition. If you run away, you blow up.”
“I know . . . we were a little scared.”
Hunter moved to Planter’s side and placed her hand on his shoulder.
“Next time, you’ll do better, I’m sure,” she said, her voice surprisingly free of sarcasm.
“We need to focus,” Gameknight said. “Crafter, where is the library?”
“It’s down one of these corridors,” the young NPC said as he walked around the fountain.
The gurgling sound the water made masked the swishing that Gameknight thought he heard earlier.
“Then we split up and search them all,” Gameknight said. “But we have to hurry.”
They split up into groups of three, with Digger and Crafter staying with Gameknight, Hunter going with Planter and Carver. Baker and Weaver went with Stonecutter while Runner, Cobbler, and Carpenter took the last hallway. Each group took a passage and headed down a dark corridor, planting torches as they went.
Crafter took the lead for their group, Gameknight bringing up the rear. As they moved through the hallway, they heard the clicking of spiders and the clattering of bones, probably skeletons. Turning the corner, they came across a chest. Checking it for any traps, Digger opened it carefully. He found an iron sword and three apples.
“Keep the apples, Digger, you look hungry,” Gameknight said.
“You take the sword, I have no use for it,” Digger said has he slid his hand down the shaft of his pickaxe.
Suddenly, at the end of the darkened passage, an arrow streaked out of the shadows and bounced off Crafter’s iron armor. Skeletons!
“Oh no you don’t!” Gameknight yelled.
The User-that-is-not-a-user ran forward, ready to face the new threat. As he passed Digger, he pulled the iron sword from the big NPC’s hand and held it with his left, his enchanted diamond sword in his right. Swinging both swords as if they were extensions of his own body, he tore into the skeletons with a rage. Attacking two monsters at the same time, he drove the enemy back against the wall. Slashing at one, Gameknight knocked the bow from the skeleton’s bony hands. He then spun and sliced at another while deflecting a poorly shot arrow with his diamond sword. Leaping into the air, he swung at the monsters, tearing into their HP like a spinning tornado of destruction. In seconds, the hallway was littered with skeleton bones and balls of XP. He had destroyed them all.
Collecting the bones for Herder, Gameknight moved back to his friends. They both stared at him in shock and wonder.
“What was that?” Crafter asked.
“Well . . . I got a little mad that one of them shot at you.”
“A little mad?” Digger asked. “You call that a little mad? I hate to see what furious looks like.”
“And what was that with the two swords?” Crafter asked.
“I don’t know,” Gameknight answered. “It just felt like the right thing to do, I guess.”
Crafter and Digger looked at each other in wonder, then turned back to stare at User-that-is-not-a-user.
“What?” Gameknight asked.
“The last person to wield two swords like that was my Great-Grandfather Smithy, during the first great zombie invasion,” Crafter explained. “It rallied the NPCs to fight harder and changed the course of the war. It hasn’t happened for a hundred years.”
“Let’s not make a big deal about this,” Gameknight said. “Maybe we can just keep this to ourselves.”
“Not a big deal?” Digger said.
“Keep it to ourselves?” Crafter added.
The two NPCs looked at each other, then laughed hard for the first time since . . .
“Come on,” Gameknight said, his voice sounding frustrated, almost angry. “We need to find the library . . . we don’t have time for this.”
“Sometimes, User-that-is-not-a-user, it is important to notice those moments in your life that will change the course of everything,” Crafter said.
“Whatever,” Gameknight responded. “Let’s get going.”
“OK,” Crafter acquiesced.
They continued following the hallway, checking all the rooms that branched off in different directions. No luck.
“Maybe we’re in the wrong hallway,” Digger said. “That would just be my luck.”
“Wait . . . you smell that?” Crafter said as he drew in a big breath.
Gameknight and Digger stopped to inhale but sensed nothing.
“Follow me,” the young NPC said as he ran off down the corridor.
The other two fought to keep up with Crafter as he sped forward, ignoring the dark shadowy corners.
Turning a corner, Gameknight found Crafter stopped before a wooden door. Light streamed out of the door’s windows, filling the gloomy tunnel with a small bit of illumination. “It’s here,” Crafter said as he opened the door.
Instantly, the aroma of old dusty parchment wafted into the air. It smelled incredibly ancient, as if the age of the whole stronghold was compressed into this small library.
Gameknight stepped in and was greeted by shelves and shelves of books that stretched up over his head. He could see a second floor walkway that circled the room, bookshelves across every wall. An ornate chandelier hung at t
he center of the room, lighting both floors and driving the shadows from the sacred place.
Suddenly, there was movement to his left. A hissing sound filled his ears. Turning, he found a creeper just around the adjacent bookcase. Slashing at it with his diamond sword, he stopped its ignition and pushed it back a few steps. The creature just stood there and stared at him, its cold dead eyes filled with hatred and a desire to take his life. Well, it wouldn’t get the chance. Charging at it, Gameknight hit the monster in the shoulder. It tried to ignite again, but Gameknight was already there, striking at it again and again, causing the ignition process to start over. In seconds, it was gone.
Then a zombie moan filled the room, then another. Heading toward the sound, Gameknight ran to the end of the bookcase and turned the corner, but then got stuck in some spiderweb, his sword and legs hopelessly entangled. Instantly, he was immobilized, unable to run and unable to lift his weapon . . . he was stuck. At the end of the aisle, he saw two zombies hiding in the few shadows that existed in the library. They saw him and charged forward, their dark razor sharp claws extended. As they shuffled forward, Gameknight struggled to free his sword. Pulling on the hilt, he tried to raise the weapon so that he could protect himself but it was no use. His arms only became more entangled in the sticky filament. He was caught.
The zombies came closer, their decaying stench starting to bite at his nostrils and turn his stomach.
I have to get my sword free . . . now!
He pulled with all his might, but the sticky web had its silky grip firmly around him.
They were getting closer.
He pulled with his free hand, hoping he could draw the iron sword and defend himself, but it too was stuck. He was starting to panic. Suddenly, a growling moaning sound came from behind him. Straining to look over his shoulder, he saw another zombie approaching from the opposite direction. He was surrounded.
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