by Cube Kid
No, these are the carrots. Those are my fingers.
DAY 1—SATURDAY—UPDATE II
I'm having trouble falling asleep.
Two blocks of dirt sit between me and fresh air, yet I still hear all kinds of sounds. Distant howls, eerie calls. Those sounds are not made by any zombie and that's all I know.
Back pressed against damp earth, I waited in total darkness, listening to those cries, thinking about home. Family. Friends. That made me remember the book—that weighty tome Max handed to me before he took off with Lola. Placing a torch at my feet, I turned to the first page.
DAY 2—SUNDAY
I came cross a ruined village. There must have been a fire. Only cobblestone foundations remained.
After searching around, I didn't find anything. No items. No signs of battle. No rubble, even. The whole place is just . . . empty.
I actually drew a picture of this place, along with a caption saying: "Actually, it's not so bad. Just put up some flower pots, some carpet, maybe a painting. Um, never mind."
Obviously, the joke was the fact that no amount of decorations could make this place seem cheerful. But I threw that picture away, because it was wrong to joke about other people's misfortunes. This has to be one of the villages those survivors came from. This was their home. I still remember their faces when they showed up at our gate.
If I ever find out who did this . . .
DAY 2—SUNDAY—UPDATE I
The horse is gone. I didn't leash it because I don't have a leash. Why didn't Kolb give me one?
Seriously, that horse was right here, no further than fifteen or twenty blocks away, just nibbling on grass. I checked a few houses, wrote in here, came back and . . . nice.
The weird thing is I can see for hundreds of blocks in every direction and there's no horse in sight. That silly animal must have really taken off. Was I really such a bad master? As if! I fed that thing like one feeds a furnace with sticks! With sticks!
Great. Now Kolb's going to be angry at me, too. And traveling on foot is going to consume way more energy. I'm not sure if these carrots will last. I might have to go hunting at some point. Oh wait. I stashed my bow in one of my item chests. So glad I did that. See, this is where I've failed—a real warrior would have definitely anticipated a human randomly showing up in the middle of the night and sending said warrior to find an item which may or may not actually exist.
Okay. Let's stay positive. At least I'm not going to have to deal with horse slobber tonight. Horses will even eat potatoes, apparently. Apparently my nose resembles one.
DAY 2—SUNDAY—UPDATE II
I wonder what's everyone's doing back home.
What happened after I left? Kolb could be in a lot of trouble for sending me out here on my own. It's possible that this whole thing could undo the alliance. What if the humans got kicked out? What if the mayor banished him?
No, it must have played out differently than that. After all, Kolb said he would handle everything. He must have, because if Breeze knew I left she would have taken a horse and come looking for me. She would have already caught up to me by now. So everything must be continuing as normal. Everyone's getting their feet wet, exploring the Overworld just outside of the wall. Yeah, that's what's happening.
Breeze is leading Max, Stump, Lola and Emerald on a field trip. Finding caves. Mapping the terrain. Spending their nights in a carefully constructed shelter which would—at least compared to the emergency shelter I just dug—look like the Royal Suite in Snark's Inn, while thinking they're tough eating stacks of bread and sharing ghost stories in the ruddy glow of a redstone torch placed on the ground. Ooo, spooky.
Note: I've added the destroyed village to my map. Should I ever discover its name, I'll update it.
D AY 2—SUNDAY—UPDATE III
"Aetherium. Adamant. Elementite. Endersteel. Orical. Redsteel. Mythril. Voidcrystal . . ."
In a new underground abode, I recited these words in a low voice. They're the names of some of the rarest known materials, or elements, of which there are many. Most only exist naturally in the outer dimensions. That is, the dimensions beyond the End. They're also exceedingly hard to mine, requiring an obsidian pickaxe. Others do not exist naturally in any known dimension, such as redsteel and endersteel, and therefore cannot be mined. They're created by smelting other materials in an object known as a crucible. That's basically an advanced furnace.
I find it confusing that this so-called elementite has at least five different types. Fire, earth, air, water and shadow. According to the author of this book, a villager named Theonius, who lived some five hundred years ago, scholars believe there are several more types of elementite. The scholars also argued about what it should be called: elementite or elementium. Huh. Who knew? (Snore.)
Back to reading. Even though that book is slightly boring, I still can't sleep. A zombie has been walking around overhead for the past hour or so. Once, I heard this strange sound: thunk, thunk, thunk. My imagination went wild. I couldn't picture anything other than some horrible tree monster.
It was just that zombie, though, walking into an oak. Facepalm. Real nice monsters you have there, Mr. Evil Wizard Sir. What am I even on this quest for? All we have to do to thwart their next attack is plant some saplings around the wall.
DAY 3—MONDAY
The morning consisted of walking and eating carrots. Mostly. I know. Pretty intense. I like to start off my mornings in the Overworld real intense like that.
The highlight of the day was when I came across an arrow lodged in the side of a small stone cliff. Okay, so here's where things actually get interesting. It wasn't a normal arrow but one with a tip made of obsidian bearing a creepy ghost-like face. A face with a weird expression, both sad and angry, like someone had just stolen his muffin that he was about to eat for breakfast. Which would definitely make me sad and angry.
Needless to say, I've never seen an arrow like this before. I can only assume it's poisoned. Or enchanted with some horrible debuff that makes wither look like mining fatigue. Or possibly both, because why not?
Being the curious explorer that I am, I almost wanted to poke myself with it just to see what would happen. But I quickly realized that a zombie, pigman or perhaps a creeper would be a much better test subject.
Nah, this arrow totally isn't enchanted with Noob Melting VII. It was obviously crafted out of sheer love and happiness. In fact, if it struck a grass block, it would probably cause flowers to sprout everywhere around it.
DAY 4—TUESDAY
Spotted a forest in the middle of the plains. In its very center was a grotto-like area with a cliff and a waterfall.
It was a beautiful scene, inviting, all flowers and leaves and mossy stone under streams of brilliant blue water, golden sunlight pouring down. Come on in, this place seemed to say. Just go for a little swim. You don't need to worry. There are no creepers here. Promise. Ignore that slight rustling sound behind you. Ignore the hissing. Focus on the water.
Maybe that was why I cautiously approached, expecting the worst.
Yet, there was nothing. No giant squid surging from the depths. No zombies rising from the ground. Only tranquility, loveliness, a gentle breeze . . . and a most unusual-looking girl.
Upon seeing her, I actually gasped.
Only then did she notice me. "Are you . . . an NPC?" she asked, stepping back slightly.
". . ."
Here we go again, I thought. As if I haven't already heard enough of that back at the village. Wait, does that mean she's a human? No, she can't be. She looks nothing like one.
"My name is Runt," I said, approaching.
She nearly tripped as she backed into a clump of grass. Then, after another uneasy glance in my direction, she darted into the forest. (Apparently, I'm the scariest villager that ever lived.)
"Hey! Wait! Come back!"
But she was already gone.
I stood there for a moment, completely stunned. Who was she? What was she? What was up with her swo
rd? Although thin, it was longer than any sword I'd ever seen.
"Well, she's definitely not a human," I muttered. "Not with ears like that." And suddenly I realized that I'd been talking to myself an awful lot lately. Asking myself questions out loud. When it comes to the Overworld, that's the one thing I never really thought too much about. It's lonely out here. Sure, I'd heard before that it's a barren place. Still, you don't really understand just how empty it is until you actually experience it yourself.
After living in a village my entire life, I find the silence rather unsettling.
DAY 4—TUESDAY—UPDATE I
"The Overworld. The Nether. The End. The Void. The Aether. The Cleft. The Shadowlands. The Veil. The Maelstrom. The Abyss. The Channel. The Pinnacle. The Zone. Icerahn . . ."
More self-studying in a temporary underground home. Dimensions this time. Before recital, I was reading about one in particular. The Void. It's this weird place with crystalline plants, pools of water that bestow magical effects, and a race of people known as mycons. Known for their crafting ability, they are to villagers as mooshrooms are to cows.
Maybe I'll visit that place in the future. There's an area in the Overworld that leads to it. A huge chasm located in a forest far to the west. Furthermore, the book says gateways may exist in the Nether which lead to the Void. That's pretty useless information for me, though. I personally have no intention of setting foot in a place where everything breathes fire.
All right. Back to studying.
Uh, giant ghostly chickens that you can ride like flying horses? Why did I have to be born in the Overworld?! Whyyy?!?!
DAY 5—WEDNESDAY
This morning, I encountered more people: five humans riding in a v-shaped formation.
Like them, their black horses were covered in black armor, and they were riding fast. Those mounts had to be at least twice as fast as Kolb's.
The one in front spotted me, too. Was he their leader? He didn't wave, just turned back as they tore across the plains from the east to the west—from my right to my left—fifty or so blocks up ahead. Wherever they were going, they were in a big hurry. And there was this seriousness about them. As if the fate of the world rested in their hands. The way they dressed almost reminded me of the Legion. Of Kolb. Were they part of that clan?
“Stop! Wait! Seriously, why does everyone keep running away from me?! I . . . just want someone to talk to.”
DAY 5—WEDNESDAY—UPDATE I
In other news, I'm running low on carrots. That's actually me trying to be optimistic,. I have two carrots left.
Something just dawned on me. It's been what—six days?—yet I haven't seen many animals. I spotted a chicken on the first day. The morning of the second, a cow. I still had a ton of carrots at that point, though, and a horse.
This is bad. Are animals really this rare in the Overworld? Are they really like diamonds with legs? Now I can't even find 1 chicken. Just 1.
By the way, I wrote 1 instead of one to conserve my food/hunger bar. I figured it might help. As the theory goes, it takes less energy to write 1 as opposed to one.
Update: never mind, writing in here doesn't appear to be draining my food bar. Or hunger bar. (Really, what's that thing even called? All I know is that it's a bar ranging from one to ten chicken thighs or drumsticks and my stomach starts growling at two.)
Actually, what was it that Max once said in class? Only strenuous activities consume food. Therefore, if I'm not mistaken, once starvation creeps up on me, all I have to do is stop moving. My food bar won't decrease at all. I can wait days, if needed, until some pig comes along, then boom—a nice cooked porkchop sizzling away on an open furnace, sauteed in mushrooms, seasoned with bits of dandelion and possibly some grass torn from a grass block sprinkled on top the way Stump decorates the cakes at his family's bakery . . . oh, I can taste it now!
Huh? What's that? No, I'm not starving! How could you even suggest such a thing? A dashing gentleswordsman such as myself would never fall into such a desperate and sad situation! I'm just planning ahead! Believe it!
DAY 5—WEDNESDAY—UPDATE II
Tonight, I read about Ardenvell.
The largest city is called Aetheria City, also known as the capitol. It's far to the west.
It sounds like paradise. Magnificent white towers reaching for the sky. It's home to some of the greatest blacksmiths in all the land. Knights, too. The Knights of Aetheria—an order that goes way back, around the time of the Second Great War.
DAY 6—THURSDAY
I saw a chicken. A chicken!
On any other day, this wouldn't have been top news. Today, it was everything.
I literally could have just left this entry like that—I saw a chicken—and it still would have been the single most important entry in the Overworld, the Nether, the End, the Void, the Aether, the Cleft, the Shadowlands . . . okay, I forgot the rest.
But I digress. Back to that chicken.
Without a ranged weapon, I had to chase it down. Ate my last carrot to do so. You can't sprint when your food bar is too low. And as the furnace crackled away, with the smell of roast chicken drifting through the air, I heard a distant cluck followed by another. Suddenly, it seemed like chickens were raining from the sky. They were fluttering around everywhere, crazily flapping their wings. One even flew into my face.
What's their problem? I thought. Is there a wolf or something?
Thankful for this small blessing, I chased after each of them. A total of six. And here's where things get weird. (Sigh.)
I ran up to the last one. Sword held over my head. More than ready to turn that animal into tomorrow's lunch and hopefully one third of an arrow. Then I . . . well, I noticed something odd: the chicken's feathers, instead of being mostly white, were dark gray, sickly green, yellow-brown . . .
Now, please understand, I, being the thoughtful warrior than I am, was entirely open to the idea of this chicken being of some weird variety, like maybe it had come from the savanna biome to the west—maybe chickens in savanna biomes have different color feathers than most, I didn't know, do I look like a chicken expert?—but the thing was, this chicken, it, um . . . well I mean it, it kind of . . . it had no . . . you see, it, um . . . okay, okay, I'll just say it up front, sure, yeah, and if you get scared, that's totally not my fault. Deep breath, here goes: this chicken, it . . . it didn't have eyes!
It was a zombie. A zombie chicken. So Tucker was right. As unbelievable as it may seem, there really are zombie animals. Why didn't it burn up in the sunlight, though? More importantly, why were we never told about this in school? Well, maybe the teachers thought it was best that we didn't know, maybe they figured some of the students would just start crying and someone would ask while sobbing: "D-d-does that mean F-Fluffy can turn into a z-zombie?"
Or maybe the teachers didn't know about this. Is it a new phenomenon? Caused by what, though? Magic? Some kind of hideous curse placed by He Who Never Blinks? How could he do such a thing to such a poor, defenseless little animal? It tried attacking me, but moved much slower than an ordinary zombie, its little legs moving awkwardly, robotically, like a tiny golem. All I had to do was step back every now and then, no real hurry, I could stretch if I wanted to. A little flap of its wings. One step forward, no, it stopped, okay, there it goes, never mind it stopped again. So sad. No, this couldn't go on.
"Sorry, chicken."
The chicken's undead state appeared to enhance its lifeforce, for it took two swings of a diamond sword to bring that thing down. The meat it dropped did not appear to be what one might call edible. Unless that someone is a pigman named Urg. (What? Don't look at me like that! He's the main character of this series I came across in a library once called 'Urg the Barbarian'. He'll eat anything. In the second book, he survived in the Overworld by eating a zombie's shoes.)
But even Urg wouldn't eat something like this, I thought, staring down at the ground.
Mind wandering, I left the rotten food item where it had dropped, and moved onward
, onward, forever onward . . . over highlands and valleys, mounds and hillocks, low outcroppings of stone, and gravel, gravel, dark gray patches, which once were, of course, a very long time ago, incredibly safe and well-traveled roads.
DAY 7—FRIDAY
(Look at those little owl banners. How cool is that? What is that, the sigil of this village? I might not know what they are, exactly, but they're cool and I want some. I'll try crafting a few when I get back.)
Without a word, the three lookouts waved from above. Iron blocks gave way to gravel streets, wooden houses, and so many people, not two of them the same.
Everywhere I looked, villagers were bumbling about, building homes, farming crops, and trading with everyone else. Humans, mostly. Others resembled that girl I saw, with light gray skin and the longest ears. Some looked even weirder. Truly, every kind of person imaginable could be seen roaming these streets.
From what I gather, Owl's Reach serves as a crossroads for explorers like myself. Inns and item shops abound, catering to all those who wished to rest and resupply before heading out on the next great and epic adventure. And the level of construction here is simply off the charts. Roaming those streets, I soon forgot about my quest. The sense of wonder was overwhelming. I staggered around in awe, taking everything in . . .