“Quickly, spread out,” Crafter commanded. “Kill any monsters you see fleeing; we cannot let word of our arrival reach Malacoda. But touch none of the zombie-pigmen. We don’t want all of those creatures falling on us out here in the open.”
The warriors spread out, making sure the area was secure. Smoke and ash filled the air, stinging Gameknight999’s eyes and making him want to cough. Clearing his throat, he looked down the steep hill. He could see zombie-pigmen moving about in their aimless manner, their golden swords shining bright in the orange, fire-driven glow of the Nether.
Surveying the area, he saw that they were on a high plateau that was maybe a hundred blocks above the distant plain. To one side was a gently sloping hill, which extended off into the distance. It would be a long way down in that direction. To the other side were tall cliffs that likely could not be scaled, but just to his right, Gameknight saw what they needed. There was a deep ravine that was carved into the landscape. From this distance, it looked like a terrible wound gouged into the surface of the Nether, like the remnants of some terrible war between giants, the steep walls of the crevasse and shadowy interior looking sinister and dangerous.
Beyond the ravine, in the distance, sat Malacoda’s fortress, the dark, ominous structure seeming to emanate malice and hatred. Small shapes could be seen moving about it, some of them glowing as if aflame, while others seemed to trudge about, backs bent in hard labor. Looking carefully, he could tell that the latter were villagers forced to work on the mighty structure, expanding the fortress to likely hold more monsters. Near the doomed villagers were blazes, their guards, and likely their executioners, when exhaustion made it impossible for them to continue working.
Poor souls, he thought.
“Like what you see?” said a mocking voice over his shoulder.
Turning, Gameknight found Hunter standing next to him, her dark brown eyes boring into him. Her curly red hair seemed to glow in the light of the Nether, making it seem as if a burning red halo floated around her head.
Just then, he noticed the iridescent blue glow of her bow.
“Where did you get that enchanted bow?” he asked her.
“I took it off a skeleton that was lurking around near the village,” she replied with delight. “You’d think that creature would be able to shoot accurately with such a fine weapon, but it just confirms that a weapon is only as good as the wielder.”
Gameknight nodded understanding.
“In fact,” she added, “I was able to get one for you, just like mine. It has Power IV, Flame I, and Infinite I.” Holding up the shimmering weapon before her eyes, she gazed at the bow as if it were alive and part of her. “I love this bow. I hope you can do it justice.”
She pulled another bow out of her inventory and tossed it to the User-that-is-not-a-user. Gameknight picked it up quickly, grateful to have such a fine weapon. He remembered his enchanted bow from the last server and missed it like an old friend, but this one would have to do, for now. Smiling, he patted her on the shoulder, and she smiled back, showing an unexpected amount of camaraderie.
Suddenly Crafter was at his side, followed by one of their NPC warriors.
“All secure, our presence is still a secret,” the NPC stated, his eyes darting to Gameknight, then Crafter. He was unsure of who was really in command here.
“Excellent,” Crafter said. “User-that-is-not-a-user, are we ready to go?”
Gameknight turned and faced his friend. He found their company standing behind him, the wall of ironclad warriors all looking at him expectantly.
“It’s time,” Gameknight said, trying to muster as much courage in his feeble voice as he could. “Let’s go get our people back.”
A cheer rang out from the NPCs as he turned and headed down the hill, toward that terrifying ravine, the soldiers following close behind. He moved, when he could, from cover to cover, hiding behind a tall hill of nether quartz, then crouching down near a small hill of netherrack, trying to keep himself from the prying eyes that he knew were down there in that fortress. Looking back over his shoulder, he could see that their troops were following his example, also stooping and crouching to hide their presence for as long as possible.
It was slow going, moving by foot down the slope. Having to stay concealed made it even slower, but in general, NPCs and users, were slow when they crossed a battlefield. And that was a weakness in their plan. He knew from playing games like StarCraft, Command & Conquer, and Age of Empires that in battle, speed was life. Those that had the greatest mobility and could react the quickest could change their tactics in the heat of battle. The phrase “no battle plans survive first contact with the enemy” had been proven in history over and over again, and Gameknight had learned the truth of that statement many times in online battles. Here, their plan had two critical components: speed and stealth. They had to get to the crafters quietly, without being noticed. Once they broke through their prison walls and freed the captives, there would likely be alarms sounded, and then all that would matter would be speed, and luck.
All the aspects of this plan terrified Gameknight. The thought of having to face Malacoda and his horde again brought chills while simultaneously making him sweat. Fear ate away at him and made him want to just dig a hole and hide, but he knew that he couldn’t. Those captive NPCs down there were depending on him, as were the friends that followed him right now. He had to see this through, though the anticipation of the battle that he knew would come seemed to wring out his courage until there was none left. Pushing away those troublesome thoughts, Gameknight concentrated on the moment—on this very instant—and focused on taking another step forward. He determinedly ignored the images of the coming battle, of Malacoda and the monsters that would eventually confront them. Instead, he simply thought about putting one foot in front of the other. And surprisingly, his anxiety receded a little. The images of the King of the Nether and his minions faded away as he pushed these thought of what might happen out of his mind.
Maybe I can do this.
Sprinting out of a small recess in the netherrack, Gameknight moved quickly to the opening of the ravine, the ground sloping downward. The steep walls of the ravine gave him a feeling of security, and of knowing that the spying eyes of the mobs would have a harder time seeing them here. Moving about fifty blocks into the ravine, he stopped and waited for his friends. Crafter quickly reached his side, sheathing his sword and pausing to catch his breath. Hunter then ran to him, but instead of stopping, she continued down the ravine, sprinting past them as if on some mission of her own. The rest of their troops entered the ravine and also stopped to rest for a moment, the clanging of armored bodies bumping against each other echoing in the air.
“Shhh,” Crafter said in a soft voice, looking at his warriors.
They instantly stilled and spread out a little, giving a bit of literal breathing room between the panting bodies. The only sound they could now hear was the squeaking of bats, the black creatures flitting about, some of them flying high up into the air and over the top of the ravine. In a few moments, Hunter returned, sprinting back up the pathway. There was a look of violence about her, her whole body tensed and ready to lash out at anyone and anything that got in her way. The look in her eyes, like black holes in the sky, was an unquenchable rage; it was as if she had seen her family suffer under the hateful claws of the mobs again.
“What are you doing?” she demanded of Gameknight and Crafter.
“We need a brief rest,” Crafter replied.
“You don’t rest until you know your position is secure,” she snapped. “Put a few warriors in front and behind.” She then turned to face the warriors. “Don’t just bunch up, you fools. A single fireball from a ghast could take out most of you.”
Gameknight and Crafter looked at each other, both ashamed of their carelessness.
“To successfully fight an enemy, you must think like them. If I wanted to catch this group of idiots, I’d put a ghast in front of us and behind us, and catch
us in a cross fire.” She faced the warriors again. “You three, pull out your bows and go back up the ravine to cover our backs. You four,” she said, pointing to another cluster of NPCs, “use your bows and scout ahead. Kill any blazes or ghasts you see. Remember, you’ll likely only be able to get off a shot or two before they fire back, so you all must aim for the same target. Now GO!”
The warriors looked at Crafter and Gameknight, their eyes seeking permission.
“You heard her,” Gameknight said. “Go.”
They nodded and ran off down the pathway, the other three going back to cover the rear.
“Now, let’s move,” Hunter commanded. “The quicker we get this foolishness over, the quicker we can get back home.” Spinning quickly on one foot, she turned and started heading down the ravine. “MOVE OUT!” she shouted without looking back.
Crafter and Gameknight looked at each other and shrugged, then followed their companion, the rest of the troop on their heels.
“Spread out,” Gameknight said, looking over his shoulder. “Do as Hunter commands.”
The warriors nodded and spread out into a long, thin, ironclad line, following as silently as their metal armor would allow, eyes cast up at the top of the ravine, looking for threats.
They moved along quickly without incident, gradually descending down the winding path that was carved through the ravine. At its lower end, the passage opened onto a massive plain that stretched out across the landscape. Gameknight could see zombie-pigmen walking about, their golden swords standing out against the rusty background. Their rotting flesh almost looked lifelike in the rosy hue from the many rivers of lava that crisscrossed the scene. The mindless creatures shuffled around without purpose, their golden swords glowing bright.
In the distance, Gameknight999 could see a gigantic sea of lava, the scorching mass of molten stone glowing bright orange. Smoke and ash floated up from the boiling sea and created a gray haze that obscured any features on its far shore, making it appear impossibly endless. The thought of all that lava stretching out into the infinite chunks of Minecraft gave him a feeling of dread.
How could there be that much lava in any one place? he thought to himself as he stared out along the bubbling sea.
But the most terrifying thing before him was the gigantic fortress that sprawled across the terrain. Dark towers capped with burning blocks of netherrack stood out against the rusty orange landscape. They stretched up high into the air, like the burning claws of some titanic beast. The menacing towers were connected with elevated walkways, many of them completely enclosed. The dark nether brick from which they were constructed gave them the appearance of something shadowy and sinister. Glowing torches dotted the sides of the massive structure, casting circles of light here and there, but the illumination made the fortress seem no less terrifying.
It was the biggest structure Gameknight had ever seen in Minecraft.
The raised walkways stretched out in all directions, spreading out across the land. But the most amazing and terrifying part of the entire structure was the main central tower. It was a huge square building that extended up into the air at least a hundred blocks, if not more. Jagged crenellations dotted its top, with flaming blocks of netherrack decorating the peak. On its sides, Gameknight could see balconies jutting out here and there. He knew that these balconies housed multiple monster-makers known as spawners; it was something he’d seen in his dream. Hundreds of monsters were being brought to life on those balconies, their angry voices adding to the moans and wails that already rode on the hot winds. This fortress brought feelings of hysteria to the User-that-is-not-a-user, because he knew that this was the thing that threatened the electronic lives that he was struggling to protect.
Pulling his eyes from the fortress, Gameknight brought his attention to the plain before him. A wide, exposed space stood between the opening of the ravine and Malacoda’s fortress, the landscape dotted with flaming blocks, lava rivers, and countless zombie-pigmen. Rough hills of netherrack could be seen to the left and the right, their blocky, steep sides standing out against the gently sloping plain.
Suddenly a bat streaked by, the black shape flitting erratically about as it flew toward one of those hills, likely its home. He could hear it screeching as it flew, the heat probably making it uncomfortable. Bats were cave dwellers, the small animals used to cold and damp spaces underground. Here, in the Nether, it was neither cold nor damp, and the creature was likely considerably stressed.
Cautiously, the party moved out, sprinting across the open plain as they threaded a sinewy path around zombie-pigmen, whose sorrowful moans filled the air. Taking the most direct path possible without aggravating any of the rotting monsters, the group sprinted as fast as possible, trying to reach their destination: the fortress.
The massive structure filled their entire field of view, stretching from the tall hills in the hazy distance, across the sloping plain, and down to kiss the shore of the lava sea. Gameknight could see the terrifying circle of stones sitting on the surface of that boiling expanse of lava, the dark pedestals of obsidian just barely visible from this distance. He felt anger and violence emanating from the island; all of the dissonant, grinding feelings in the workings of Minecraft were focused on that location.
It’ll all be decided on that island, Gameknight thought to himself. He knew that all their fates would be determined there. Anticipation and fear started to creep into his psyche as the thought of some terrible battle being fought on that mass of stone started to cloud his mind. And then he remembered something his father had said to him once. It hadn’t made much sense at the time, but for some reason . . . in this situation . . . it clicked.
“Being afraid of something that has yet to happen is like a snowflake being afraid to fall from the sky because of its fear of summer,” his father had said. “The poor snowflake would miss the joys of winter: of being formed into a snowman or thrown in a snowball fight. It would miss being alive because of the fear that was consuming it. There is enough time to fear something when it comes. Don’t waste a second being afraid before then. The anticipation of a thing can sometimes be worse than the thing itself. Think about the now and release the fears that are reaching into the future. Focus on the now . . . the now . . . the now . . .”
His father’s words echoed in his memory, filling him with warmth and courage. Pushing aside his thoughts of that impending battle, he concentrated on the now and on what was around him . . . Crafter . . . Hunter . . . their warriors . . . blazes . . .
What . . . blazes?
“BLAZES!” Gameknight shouted, pointing to the rough netherrack hill.
An army of blazes and magma cubes were coming from behind the hill on the left, heading straight for them. Pointing to the threats, he turned his head to find Crafter on his right. He noticed the young leader pointing off to the right, toward the other tall hill. Another army composed of blazes, skeletons, and zombie-pigmen were emerging from behind that mound, also heading straight for them.
The now was suddenly filled with monsters, all of them thirsting for their destruction. The air began to fill with the clattering of skeleton bones, the clicking of spiders, and the mechanical breathing of blazes; it was a symphony of hate.
Gameknight could feel panic and terror surging through every nerve like an electrical shock.
Looking behind him, he judged the distances. These two armies would reach them before they could get to the fortress. And even if they could release the crafters, there would be no getting back home; they’d be trapped in the fortress with enemies before them and Malacoda’s monsters from the fortress at their backs.
The rescue was a failure.
Looking at his friend, he saw the look of defeat on Crafter’s face as well, his unibrow furled with sadness and regret.
“We failed,” the young NPC said despondently. “I’m sorry, my friends.”
Gameknight wasn’t sure if he was talking to those around him or the poor imprisoned crafters within the fort
ress, but it didn’t matter. What did matter was getting back to the Overworld safely.
But how?
As it was, they would barely make it back to the ravine before the monsters reached them. Would there be another army at the other end of the ravine, closing off their retreat back to the Overworld? They needed to move faster down here in the Nether, but their blocky legs were not made for speed.
“What are we going to do?” Crafter asked, his voice filled with uncertainty.
“Many problems with monsters can be solved with some creativity and a little TNT,” Gameknight muttered to himself, then spoke louder and more confidently, the now driving his courage. “Crafter, you still have that TNT?”
“Of course I do,” Crafter replied, his voice still weak.
“Me too,” came from some of the other warriors.
Gameknight looked at Crafter and saw the indecision reflected on his face. He then turned to Hunter and could see her itching to run off and face these armies all on her own, but that would be a wasteful course of action, and would certainly end in her death. At this moment, in the now, his troops and friends needed him, needed Gameknight999 . . . and as the pieces came together in his mind, he knew just what to do.
“COME ON, EVERYONE FOLLOW ME!” he yelled as he put away his iron sword and pulled out his own enchanted bow. “Back to the ravine!”
“But we’ll be trapped there,” Crafter said, his legs moving sluggishly.
“No, we won’t,” Gameknight replied. “We’re going to solve a monster problem at the mouth of the ravine. COME ON!”
CHAPTER 20
FIREWORKS
T
he party sprinted back to the ravine, taking a straight-line path and ignoring stealth; clearly they had been spotted. How the creatures had known of their presence was still a mystery that bounced around within Gameknight’s brain. He felt that this tidbit was important, but not now, not in the now. He would ponder this turn of events later, if there was a later.
Battle for the Nether Page 19
