“During the war with the king of the Endermen, we heard about villagers putting up walls around their villages. Our crafter talked about all of us pitching in to mine stone so we could have a massive wall, but I didn’t agree. Having our warriors digging up stone was a waste of their abilities. So far, no monster had ever made it to our doorstep. Our army was able to go out and strike hard and fast, destroying them before they could ever get close.
“So I convinced everyone to keep things as-is, and let the army protect the village … but I was wrong.
“The three monster villages decided to start working together and lure us into a trap. A group of skeletons drew the warriors out of the village. They were seen on the plain, far out near the steep drop. We knew that skeletons are relatively slow, so we rode out after them, ready to cut them down before they had a chance to escape. But they must have been spider jockies, because when we got out there, they were gone. While the army looked for the monsters, another army of spiders, skeletons, and zombies snuck up to the village from behind.”
Butch paused for a moment to scan the desolate surroundings, looking for threats. Or maybe he just needed to collect himself—Gameknight could see the incredible tension in the big NPC’s body. It was as if Butch was preparing to be tortured and was summoning all of his courage for this ordeal.
“They attacked the village. The spiders snuck up on top of the homes, waiting for people to come out and fight, while the skeletons and zombies spread out through the village.
“My little brother, Harvester—though he liked to be called Cutter—stayed back in the village when the army left. He wanted to be in the army, but Cutter was like Herder; he was small and thin and not very strong. We needed big NPCs that were brave and daring to be in the army. It would have been too dangerous for Cutter. If he froze up or ran away in the heat of battle, then he might get hurt, or get those around him hurt. In the army, everyone watched out for everyone else, and there wasn’t room for someone who might run. So I told Cutter he couldn’t join until he got a lot bigger.”
“Size is not a measure of one’s courage,” Stitcher pointed out. “Do you doubt my bravery in battle?”
“Of course not … I was a fool back then,” Butch said.
“You can say that again,” Hunter added under her breath.
Butch cast her an annoyed glance, then continued.
“So when the army went out after the skeletons, Cutter stayed back in the village, just like always. But this time, it was not like always. This time, the monsters were working together. The skeletons that we saw out on the plain were a ruse to lure us away so that the rest of the monsters could attack the village.
“When the spider jockies out on the plains saw us, they scuttled behind the rolling hills and took shelter in some caves. We combed the landscape for them, but we never found them. By the time we made it back to the village, it was almost over.”
He paused to take a breath. The ash being kicked up by the horses choked him up for a moment … or maybe it was the awful memory, Gameknight thought as he watched.
“The villagers that survived the attack told me all about it when I returned. They said the monsters came in from the back of the village by wading quietly through the river that ran along the backside of the community. I had thought the river would be enough to protect our rear; that was only one of the many things I was wrong about that day.”
Butch stared up at the moon that was high overhead. Gameknight thought the big NPC seemed lost in the memory, a sad smile slowly creeping across his square face. He chuckled softly.
“I can still remember Cutter testing how many blocks of wheat he could cut with a single swing. He’d practice and train so that he’d get stronger and stronger. He wanted to be the best harvester in the village. No one could best him at it—he was truly the harvesting master. I remember one time when he tried to do four blocks in one swipe with his hoe. He wound up and swung with all his might, but he swung too hard. His feet slipped, causing him to fall and hit the ground. Putting out his hands to catch his fall, he let go of his hoe. It went shooting across the farm and stuck in the side of Baker’s house. The tip of the hoe sank so deep into the wall that nobody could pull it out. It stayed there for months until someone cut it down with an axe.” He chuckled to himself again. “We used to ask him where he put his hoe after that … we’d all laugh, especially Cutter. He was one of the best of us.”
“What happened to him?” Crafter asked.
“When the monsters came, they attacked the village. Skeletons shot …” he paused for a moment as the painful memories played through his mind. “Skeletons shot in through any open window they could find, attacking men, women, and children without remorse. The spiders climbed on top of the roofs, waiting for unsuspecting NPCs to leave the safety of their homes.
“They told me the zombies started pounding on the doors of the houses, trying to break in and infect those inside. We lost Weaver and Painter that way.” He sighed and shook his head, as if reliving the event. “The blacksmith said he heard the sound of the zombies, then saw Cutter running out of our home wearing the leather armor I’d given him long ago, swinging an old iron sword. My brother charged straight into the zombies and slashed at them with all his might. The green monsters probably figured he was a child, due to him being so small and skinny. Blacky said none of the monsters even noticed him … that was, until he destroyed his second zombie. Then the monsters took him very seriously.
“They say the skeletons started firing at him first. Two arrows hit him before he even slowed down. The other villagers saw this, and charged out to help him. That was when the spiders came down off the roofs. They attacked the villagers and destroyed a dozen of my friends before anyone realized what was happening.”
Butch reached up and wiped a tear from his eye.
“My brother ran to help Blacky. A massive spider was trying to jump on top of him. Cutter leapt on top of the monster and started hitting it with the sword. Blacky said he held on like he was riding a wild stallion. My brother eventually destroyed the spider all by himself.” Gameknight could tell that Butch was incredibly proud of his brother for what he’d done. Then the NPC grew quiet, and his voice became a whisper.
“The skeletons saw this and started firing on Cutter again. Blacky and some of the others charged at the skeletons, but they couldn’t get to the bony monsters until it was too late. Arrows hit my brother from all sides, destroying his leather armor, then taking his HP down to zero.
“That was when I returned with the army to take care of the rest of the monsters. We lost twenty-three friends and family on that day … all because of me. In my arrogance, I thought my mighty army could protect the village better than a huge wall could. I was wrong. And the price of my mistake was the life of …” he paused as square tears tumbled down his cheeks, “was the life of my little brother and twenty-two other NPCs. I swore that day that I would protect my village and make amends for my failure. And as long as I draw breath, I will protect my village and all villagers in Minecraft.”
“Butch, you can’t be responsible for things you didn’t know were going to happen,” Crafter said.
Butch remained silent.
“Crafter is right,” Digger added. “We can only do so much. You can’t support the weight of the whole world on your shoulders. It’s impossible.”
“You don’t get it!” Butch snapped. “Cutter was my responsibility. Zombies destroyed our parents when we were young, and it was my job to keep my brother safe. I failed. If I had only agreed to take him with us in the army, he’d be alive today.”
“But how many others would be dead?” Stitcher said. “It sounds like Cutter was actually incredibly brave and saved a whole lot of people. Without him being in the village, more villagers would have been destroyed. I think Cutter was a hero.”
Butch sighed, then turned and glared over his shoulder. “Don’t you see? I couldn’t see past his puny size to recognize his incredible courage and
strength. It took his death for me to realize who he really was. I failed him, and many others, in our village. That won’t happen again as long as I live. I will stop any monster that threatens any village, and these blazes are doing exactly that.”
He turned forward, and they all could tell that the discussion was over.
Gameknight could see there was much strength and courage in Butch, but also much anger and regret. These emotions were going to pull the big NPC apart eventually. Gameknight wanted to help, somehow, but he didn’t know what to do. He could remember seeing that same thirst for revenge in Hunter, after her own family had been killed by Malacoda and the monsters of the Nether. It had almost destroyed her. Gameknight hoped it would not destroy the big NPC, for he could feel, somehow, that Butch was one of the critical pieces to the puzzle that sat before them. If Butch managed to get himself killed before they solved this mystery, then they would all be in a lot of trouble.
CHAPTER 8
THE CREEPER KING
The newborn creeper tested her tiny little feet as she scurried around the many black-spotted green eggs that lined the floor of the hatching chamber. Light from a stream of lava lit the room, illuminating the space just enough so the creepling could see where she was going.
One of the older creepers—they were called tenders—stood near the entrance to the chamber, waiting for the creepling. It was the tender’s job to take the newborns down to feed on a rich vein of coal, so they could begin to generate more gunpowder and become more powerful.
The creepling moved into the cluster of other newborns. They all appeared identical, their bodies a deep, rich green with pale white spots on their skin. As they matured and their explosive power grew, their spots would fill with black. Until their spots were solid black, the little creatures would stay in the creeper hive, feeding on coal and staying out of the way.
“Come,” the tender said, his aged body glowing ever so slightly, then dimming again.
He turned and led the group of creeplings through twisting tunnels that burrowed their way deep into the flesh of Minecraft. The passage intersected other tunnels as it spiraled downward. The tender took a left turn, then a right, then went straight, following a zigzagging path until he reached a large, dark chamber.
All around them, the walls were lined with coal ore. The black-spotted blocks merged with the darkness, making the wall difficult to see. But the creeplings didn’t need to see … they could sense the presence of the coal, and they were hungry. Without being told, the tiny creepers moved into the room and settled against the perimeter of the cavern. With sharp black teeth hidden inside their dark mouths, they began to carve away at the coal ore, separating the coal from the stone as they fed.
Oxus, the king of the creepers, stood back in the shadows and watched. Sheets of blue electricity danced about his skin as jagged lines of bright red sparks wrapped around his green body. The light from these powers, given to him by the Maker, Herobrine, cast a dim purple glow into the dark chamber, allowing him to watch the newborns. He always liked this moment, when the young creeplings experienced their first taste of coal. As he watched, he could hear their blunt teeth scraping against the hard stone, scratching away at the ore. The screeching sound was like beautiful music to the creeper king.
“Soon your young spots will blacken and you will be ready for the surface,” Oxus said, his voice echoing off the walls of the dark chamber. “Until then, feed on the coal and grow strong, so that you may serve the hive.”
The creeplings did not look up at their king; they just continued to gnaw away at the dark walls, slowly chiseling into the coal ore, gradually enlarging the chamber with each new generation.
Oxus made a strange smile that went unnoticed in the darkness. With a perpetually-downturned mouth, a smile on a creeper actually looked more like a pained grimace. He turned away from the feeding ground and scurried through the twisting passages of the hive. Moving along the halls he’d used for a hundred years, the creeper king followed the well-memorized path until he found himself at the entrance of the gathering chamber. Within the room, he could see all of his advisors arguing with each other, some of them hissing and glowing bright with agitation. As he entered, the hall grew uncomfortably quiet.
“My advisors still argue?” Oxus said.
“There are many questions,” one of the creepers said, a hissing sound accompanying his speech.
Creepers can only speak by initiating their ignition process, which has the effect of keeping all discussions short; sometimes, in a heated argument, a creeper would talk so long they would explode. That usually meant the other creeper won the argument … as long as they weren’t too close. Only the king of the creepers, Oxus, could speak without igniting; that was a gift from Herobrine at the time of his making.
“Tell me, what are your concerns?” the creeper king asked.
“The Maker is gone,” one of them hissed.
“That is correct,” Oxus replied. “We all felt his presence leaving Minecraft. We are free from his tyranny and no longer need to hide within the passages of the hive.”
“Monsters are still fighting the NPCs,” hissed another.
“Our scouts have confirmed this,” Oxus said. “The skeletons and spiders were waging some kind of war, but it has stopped. The NPCs stopped the monsters from their campaign of destruction. Likely, the User-that-is-not-a-user had a hand in that.”
Many of the creepers began to hiss and glow bright at the sound of Gameknight999’s name. The User-that-is-not-a-user was the enemy of all monsters in Minecraft, and the creepers knew this just as well as any other.
“The User-that-is-not-a-user still hunts the monsters of the Overworld,” one of Oxus’s generals said.
The creeper king turned to look at the general. Blue sparkling light surrounded the creature, making the other monsters afraid to draw too close to him. He was a charged creeper, one of the few that Oxus had sent out into a lightning storm to be transformed. Now, his explosive power was much greater than the other creepers, drawing respect and fear from the masses.
“Yes, I have heard the reports from our scouts,” the king of the creepers said. “We will continue to watch for him throughout the land.”
“More rogue creepers were seen,” hissed one of the lieutenants.
“Yes, I know,” Oxus replied. “It is unfortunate that many do not wish to stay hidden with us in the creeper hive. Small numbers of rogue creepers continue to escape and prowl about the landscape, searching for users or NPCs to destroy. I know Herobrine used many of our brothers and sisters in his war to dominate Minecraft, but now that he is gone, the rogue creepers have nothing to do. They will cause trouble, and need to be brought back into the fold of the hive.”
He turned back to his sparkling general. “Send out small parties to bring them back here, into our community. We need to be strong, so that we can be ready to face the NPC threat when it is time.”
Groups of creepers scurried out of the chamber, carrying their ruler’s commands to the other explosive monsters.
“Soon, we will—” Oxus started to say, but before he could finish, an explosion rocked the foundation of the hive. “What was that?”
The creepers in the gathering chamber scurried about. Many shot out into the curving passages, searching for attackers, but they found none.
“What happened?” Oxus bellowed. “Someone tell me what caused that explosion. Where did it happen? I need information!” He glanced down at the charged creepers. “Generals, take your warriors to the openings of the hive and secure the entrances. One of you, go to the heart of the hive and make sure our most prized possession is safe.”
The sparkling creepers ran out of the gathering chamber and shot into the tunnels, squads of warriors following close behind. Oxus followed one group that moved quickly into a wider tunnel that wove its way deeper underground. The path was lined with redstone torches, placed there by the occasional NPC foolish or unlucky enough to stumble upon the hive. These pr
isoners would be put to work and kept prisoner until their HP expired. In all their history, only one NPC had ever escaped, and that one had been so close to death that it was assumed the villager had perished up on the surface. The secret of the hive was paramount to the creepers’ survival.
As they ran through the lit passage, the king thought about all the possible threats: maybe mad zombies, or skeletons vying for more power … or maybe even NPCs, though it would take a massive army of villagers to take over the hive.
They followed the passage until it curved around and led to a gigantic cave. It had taken hundreds and hundreds of creepers to make this cavern, using their very lives to carve it out. It was used to store the hive’s treasure; nothing was more important.
The cave was maybe fifty blocks tall and another fifty blocks wide. There were no torches lighting the chamber, but it was well illuminated. That was because of the pools of lava that sat in the floor around the chamber. But Oxus could tell the chamber was brighter today than it usually was. On one wall, a flow of lava spilled out of a newly-made hole. A crater was carved out of the floor nearby, with a small pile of gunpowder at its center. The lava poured onto the cavern floor, then spread out into a wide pool. Sparks and ash jumped up into the air from the molten stone. Oxus could see that if the lava traveled only a little farther, it would reach their treasure, which would be disastrous.
“How did this happen?” Oxus hissed. “What caused this explosion?”
His sparkling blue general moved to the edge of the new lava pool, then down into the new crater. He picked up the pile of gunpowder that sat in the bottom, then climbed back up and added it to their treasure.
“What is that?” the creeper king asked.
“Gunpowder,” the general replied.
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