The Jungle Temple Oracle

by Mark Cheverton

  “I’m awake . . . I’m awake!” Gameknight yelled.

  “Are you alright?” Crafter asked.

  Standing, Gameknight looked around the camp. He could see that everyone was awake, many with their weapons drawn. Digger stood near the perimeter, his big pickaxe held at the ready. Archers in the ice towers all had arrows drawn, ready for battle. The entire camp was like a coiled spring, compressed and ready to explode . . . all because of him. Looking to the east, he could see the sky start to brighten . . . it was dawn.

  “We have to go,” Gameknight said. “We have to hurry.”

  “What is it?” Hunter asked as she put away her bow and came up next to her friend. “What’s going on?”

  “I’ve seen Herobrine’s plan and we can’t delay,” he said quickly. “We have to figure out how to defeat him before all those eggs hatch or we’re doomed.”

  “Eggs? Have you finally lost you mind?” Hunter asked. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ll explain later,” he answered as he started to fold up his bed. “Right now we need to break camp and find that stronghold.”

  He could feel the puzzle pieces start to tumble around in his head. The secret to stopping Shaikulud and all those spiders was in there somewhere, but he couldn’t see any of the pieces, the solution just a jumbled mess.

  “We’re in a race now against Herobrine and his spiders,” he said as he turned to face Crafter, Digger now at his side, “and whoever comes in second place loses everything . . . including their lives.”

  CHAPTER 10

  THE FATHER

  The NPCs moved quickly across the frozen landscape. Gameknight was at the head of the column walking next to Digger. He ran when he could, walked when he couldn’t, but drove the army of villagers as hard as he was able to. His feet were cold, his hands chilled to the bone, and his cheeks numb, but he didn’t slow for an instant . . . too much was at stake.

  They followed the narrow ravines that curved between the hills, still trying to stay out of sight while they followed the Eyes of Ender that Digger threw into the air every now and then. It was clear that the glowing orbs were leading them to the massive ice spike that was getting nearer; the Father. As they got closer, Gameknight could see that it was not a single thick ice spike, rather it was three glacial spires woven together in a complex pattern of overlapping and merging structures. It reminded him of how Mom used to braid Jenny’s hair when she was younger, overlapping one strand with another until a thick rope formed. He couldn’t imagine how this incredible structure could have naturally occurred, but Minecraft could do some amazing things sometimes.

  Off to his right, Gameknight could see a thick spike of ice that was perhaps fifteen blocks high, its thick base made of snow. At the top of the frozen structure, he could see a section perhaps four blocks wide. Moving next to Crafter, he put a hand on the young NPC’s shoulder.

  “Crafter, do you still have any ender pearls from when we went to The End?” Gameknight asked.

  “Let me look,” the young NPC answered.

  Ender pearls are what’s dropped when an enderman is defeated. In their past adventures, Gameknight and his friends ventured to The End, the home of the endermen. There, with the Ender Dragon flying high overhead, they battled many of the shadowy monsters and collected many of the bluish pearls. As the main ingredient in the crafting recipe for making the Eyes of Ender, most of them had been consumed, but after searching his inventory, Crafter was able to pull out two of the blue spheres. Taking the pearls from Crafter’s hands, Gameknight looked down at the glowing balls.

  “What are you doing?” Monet asked.

  “You can use ender pearls to teleport great distances, instantly,” Gameknight explained. “I’m going up to the top of that spire and look around . . . make sure there aren’t any monsters nearby.”

  “I want to go, too,” she said.

  Gameknight999 didn’t answer. Turning, he moved to the base of the column of ice, then threw one of the ender pearls to the top of the frozen platform. Instantly, he was transported to where the sphere landed. Pain briefly erupted through his body as he took a little damage when he materialized, but he was still OK. Carefully looking across the icy landscape, Gameknight scanned the terrain for threats. When he saw nothing but blue ice and white snow, the User-that-is-not-a-user breathed a sigh of relief.

  Taking the second ender pearl in his hand, he threw it back toward Monet. As he materialized next to his sister, he found Tiller approaching, a worried look on her face.

  “You should be careful when you are doing these things,” Tiller said, a motherly look of concern on her face.

  “We’re all clear,” Gameknight999 yelled, then continued walking, Tiller and his sulking sister at his sides.

  “Tiller, tell me about your daughter, Rider,” Monet said. “What did she look like?”

  Tiller smiled.

  “She was the most beautiful NPC ever,” she began. “Her hair was pure blond, as if spun from golden thread. It almost glowed when the red rays of sunset lit her face.”

  “She sounds beautiful,” Monet added.

  Tiller nodded.

  “She was a lot like you, Monet. Rider had an independent spirit and did whatever she thought was right regardless of the consequences.”

  “I like her already,” Monet said as she elbowed her brother in the ribs.

  “Ouch,” he said, then smiled.

  “She loved riding the minecart tracks,” Tiller continued. “Her job was to look for places where the minecart network was beginning to show through to the users. She was the best at finding these failures before they happened. Nobody questioned her judgment when she called for an abandoned mine to be constructed.”

  “That’s right,” Crafter added from ahead of them as he looked over his shoulder. “She had the best eye when it came to inspecting the rails.”

  Tiller smiled.

  “How did she . . . die?” Monet asked.

  “It was when Erebus, the King of the Endermen, attacked our village,” Tiller said, her voice cracking with emotion. “She refused to stay back with the other women. Rider always said a woman could do anything that a man could do, and that also meant fighting to protect her village.”

  “She was right,” Hunter shouted from behind.

  Tiller looked back at Hunter and gave her a smile, then continued.

  “When the zombies broke through the gates and charged into the village, she went running out with the men to stop the monsters . . . I never saw her again.”

  “Many people lost their lives that day,” Crafter said.

  Tiller nodded.

  “Those first days of the war were terrible,” Crafter added.

  “But it’s not over yet,” Gameknight said. “There are still monsters out there that want to destroy us.”

  “And we want to destroy them as well,” Hunter added.

  Gameknight sighed, then reached past Monet and patted Tiller on the shoulder, his silent support the only thing he could offer her. She looked up at him and smiled, her warm hazel eyes filled with confidence in the User-that-is-not-a-user.

  Ahead of them, Gameknight could see the massive ice spike, the Father, getting closer. As they neared, its tip disappeared into the clouds; the height of the structure unbelievable. When they came to its base, Digger threw another Eye of Ender. Instead of it flying off into the distance, it just stopped moving when it reached the Father, then fell straight to the ground.

  “It’s here,” Digger said in a deep voice as he bent down to pick up the orb.

  “OK, clear a space three blocks by three blocks in size,” Gameknight instructed.

  Digger pulled out his pick and knocked the snow off the nine blocks. Beneath them were more blocks of snow. Digging out the snow, he found dirt underneath. Once he had that finished, he looked up at the User-that-is-not-a-user.

  “Now, build a spiral staircase going straight down.”

  “I though you weren’t supposed to dig straig
ht down?” Monet asked as she reached her brother.

  “We aren’t going straight down,” Gameknight explained. “Digger is going to build a stairway that goes down one block then forward one block in a spiral pattern. The stairs will lead straight down, but will create safe steps.” He then turned to Digger. “Start it now, and get anyone else you need.”

  “Digging is what I do,” the big NPC replied with a smile. “I don’t need any help.”

  “OK, the rest of you. We need fortifications around this spot. Hunter, you tell them what you want. I have the feeling that as soon as we enter the stronghold, Herobrine will know where we are.”

  “I’m on it,” Hunter said, then spun and started giving commands, her curly red hair flinging about as she turned her gaze from here to there.

  “What about me?” Monet asked.

  “Not yet,” Gameknight answered. “I need diggers. Anyone not building the fortifications, I want you to start mining. We need iron, just like before.”

  A dozen NPCs put away their swords and pulled out shovels. They chose a spot and all started digging, burrowing into the soil first with shovels and then with picks when they hit stone.

  “What about me?” Monet whined.

  “Not yet . . . I’ll get to you.”

  Turning, he found Herder.

  “Herder, I need your wolves out there sniffing around for monsters,” Gameknight said. “I need the Wolfman to be ready. Here’s what I want to you to do.”

  Gameknight explained his plan, sketching it out with the tip of his sword in the snow.

  “I will do what you need,” Herder said, a huge smile on his face.

  He then put his fingers to his mouth and blew, making a loud shrill whistle. All of the wolves in the camp howled, then came running, following Herder as he headed away from the Father. After moving about ten blocks, half the pack headed to the north while Herder and the rest of the wolves headed to the south.

  “Gameknight . . .” Monet said, her voice filled with frustration.

  “Not yet!” he snapped. “Cavalry, I need mounted warriors.”

  Twenty warriors leapt onto their steads and galloped to him.

  “Guard the perimeter and watch for monsters . . . they’ll be coming soon. If it is a small party of monsters, then destroy them.” Gameknight looked at each NPC in the eyes as he gave the commands, knowing that these instructions would likely lead many of them to their deaths. “If it is a big party, then some of you have to stay and slow them down while the others get back to camp and warn the others.”

  Gameknight lowered his gaze, and his voice filled with sadness.

  “I’m sorry that I have to ask this of you, but . . .”

  “FOR MINECRAFT!” one of them yelled, then the others took up the battle cry as they road out.

  “Gameknight . . . what can I do!” Monet asked, her voice now sounding desperate.

  Turning, the User-that-is-not-a-user focused his gaze on the blacksmith and his apprentices.

  “Smithy, I need you to place some of those arrow bombs out there in the open field,” Gameknight explained. “That will probably be where the attack comes from.”

  The blacksmith nodded then ran off with his assistants, shovels in their hands.

  “Gameknight . . .” Monet whined. “TOMMY!”

  “Alright!” Gameknight snapped as he turned to face his sister.

  “What do I do? I want to do something . . . I need to do something,” she said. “This is my family now, too.”

  “Fine, here’s what I want you to do,” Gameknight explained. “You see that ice spire there.” He pointed to the Father. “I want you and Stitcher to build steps up the side and find a good height from where you can see the surroundings. You are to then use Hunter’s bow . . .”

  “What?!” Hunter shouted.

  “I said, Hunter will gladly give you her bow because she will be down in the stronghold with me and her bow won’t be much use there.” He glared at Hunter. She glared back, then smiled and handed Monet her enchanted bow. “Good, now, you and Stitcher are to watch for monsters, and when you see them, you are to shoot the arrow bombs. Do you understand?”

  Monet smiled as she nodded her head.

  “This is an important responsibility,” Gameknight explained, “and dangerous. If you fall from up there . . .”

  “I know, I’ll ‘hit the ground too hard,’ right?” Monet said, reciting the message that Minecraft says when you fall . . . and die.

  “Right,” Gameknight answered, then moved closer to her and spoke in a low voice. “You don’t have to do this, but it’s just that we’re kinda short of people and have a lot to do.”

  “I can do this . . . you can trust me,” she said.

  It sounded like something he would say to Dad when he was asking for responsibility, like when he’d been made responsible for his sister in his father’s absence . . .

  Why can’t he be home!

  He then thought about his friend in the physical world . . . Shawny.

  SHAWNY . . . Is the digitizer working yet? he said in his mind, sending his thoughts out into the Minecraft servers, hoping his words would appear on his computer monitor.

  Still dead, came the answer. I’m taking apart some of the other contraptions in the basement, looking for some replacement components, but so far, I haven’t found anything that can replace the fried parts.

  Keep at it, Gameknight thought to his friend. We may need you real soon. Are there any users around?

  Everyone got disconnected but me, Shawny answered. Some kind of shout or screech came through all the servers and kicked everyone off. Some of the Minecrafters thought they heard your name in the screech but no one is sure. All we know is that nobody can get to your server from outside of your house. I’m the only one here.

  Maybe you can send out the IP address using the forums and open up my dad’s computer to them. Gameknight thought. We might need some help before this thing is over.

  I’ll be here, his friend replied.

  Good!

  He then turned to say something to the builders who were constructing the defenses when he heard Digger’s booming voice echo from the curving stairway.

  “I FOUND IT!” he shouted as he came running up out of the ground. “The stronghold . . . I reached the stronghold.”

  “Then it’s time,” Gameknight said. He turned and noticed that all the building and preparations had stopped, and all the NPCs were staring at him. “I’m going to only take a few of you with me down into the stronghold, but any of you can choose to stay up here and wait for our return.” He paused to let his words sink in and to let the NPCs make their choices. “Any of you who are willing to go with me, and likely risk your life, raise your sword over your head.”

  Instantly, a hundred swords shot into the air, their razor sharp points gleaming in the sunlight. Even the children raised their wooden swords high over their heads, Topper and Filler, Digger’s children, standing on their toes, trying to be noticed and selected.

  Gameknight’s heart swelled with pride. All of these NPCs were willing to face extreme danger. They could have chosen to stay on the surface and wait until they returned, but instead, they’d rather stand by his side and face the same danger that he was going to face.

  Family truly does take care of family.

  “OK, you and you and you . . .” Gameknight went through the camp and selected a handful of the best warriors, and headed for the stairway, Hunter, Digger, and of course Crafter close on his heels.

  “Here we go,” Gameknight said as he started down the steps.

  Moving quickly, they descended downward, following the path Digger had carved into Minecraft. As they descended it grew cooler, the subterranean blocks sucking all the warmth and courage out of them. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they found the pathway sealed by blocks of mossy cobblestone; it was the wall of the stronghold. Pulling out his pick, Gameknight broke the cobblestone. As soon as the block crumbled, a bat streak
ed out of the opening and headed up the curving stairway.

  “Stop that bat . . . stop that bat!” Gameknight yelled.

  But all the warriors, including Hunter, had their swords out. There was not a bow or arrow to be seen amongst them. And as the bat flitted up the staircase, Gameknight sighed. He looked at the NPCs who stood with him, and he knew that the die had been cast, and the real battle was about to begin.

  How many of them will perish because of my mistakes . . . my failures? he thought. I hate this responsibility. I just want to hide and be a kid again.

  But then a voice filled his mind. It was a voice not from within himself, but rather, it was from the very fabric of Minecraft.

  You can accomplish only what you can imagine, the voice said.

  Chills ran down his spine as the words echoed in his head for a moment, then disappeared.

  Glancing around frantically, he looked at his friends.

  “Did any of you hear that?” he said.

  “Hear what?” Hunter replied. “You mean that squeaking bat . . . of course we all heard that.”

  “No, that voice,” Gameknight said, a look of confusion on his face. “That strange voice . . . it was in my head.”

  “What did you say?” Crafter asked.

  “I said I heard a voice,” Gameknight asked.

  “I always knew you were a little crazy,” Hunter said. “But now you’re creeping me out.”

  “Hunter!” Crafter snapped. “What did the voice say?”

  “It said, ‘You can accomplish only what you can imagine,’ and then it disappeared.”

  “Wow . . . that sounds kinda smart,” Hunter replied with a chuckle. “I wish I’d thought of it.”

  “Hunter, can’t you ever be serious?” Crafter chided.

  “Not if I can help it!”

  “Enough! Time to focus,” Digger said with his booming voice.

  “Let’s do this,” Gameknight said, then stepped into the stronghold, fear nibbling at the edges of his courage.

  CHAPTER 11

  THE STRONGHOLD

  As soon as Gameknight999 stepped into the stronghold, he could sense the immense age of the place. It had a feel and smell of something that was ancient; it was likely a hundred years old if not older. Maybe it was part of the very first pre-alpha version . . . or maybe it was part of Notch’s very first prototype. Gameknight wasn’t sure, but he could certainly tell that this stronghold was different.