“Just watch,” the warlord said, scowling at his general and silencing him with his gaze.
The skeletons watched the glowing projectile travel in a graceful arc, climbing higher and higher, then slowly descending. The zombies saw the incoming missile and all moved to the walls in hopes of getting out of the projectile’s path. But the arrow turned slightly, tracking its target on the left wall. The zombies, seeing this, all moved to the right wall. The arrow changed course again, staying fixed to its next victim. The zombies moaned in fear, uncertain what to do.
The arrow struck the lead zombie, pushing the monster back, onto the ground. The decaying creature just had time for a terrified moan, then disappeared, the single shot from the enchanted weapon powerful enough to destroy all the monster’s HP.
“You see? This magical weapon is incredible.” Rakir gave his general a satisfied smile.
“I want to try,” one of the skeletons said.
He snatched the bow from the warlord’s hand. Rusak made a move toward the offending monster, but Rakir raised a hand, stopping his general.
“Watch and learn,” Rakir said.
The skeleton pulled the bow string back. Instantly, the monster was overwhelmed with pain. He flashed red as the bow sucked on his HP. Flailing his arm about, the monster tried to drop the bow, but he could not make his hand release its grip. Flashing red again and again, the skeleton fell to his knees, trying to push the bow away with his other hand, but it was hopeless. The creature shouted in pain and fear as the enchanted bow slowly consumed him. Finally, the monster fell to the ground and disappeared, his HP consumed by the Fossil Bow of Destruction.
“I told you, only an ancestor of the wizards or warlocks can wield this weapon.” Rakir bend down and picked up the weapon. “I am a descendant of the great skeleton warlock, Ragnar the Tormentor.”
Rusak nodded in awe. “Perhaps his magical powers pulse through your veins.”
“Perhaps,” Rakir said. “But now, it’s time we destroy the rest of those pathetic zombies.”
He stared at the decaying green monsters in the distance, then pulled back the string and fired again and again. He launched a dozen quick shots, the last being released before the first even found its target. The glowing arrows streaked through the air like magical missiles, tracking the creatures with uncanny precision. They fell upon the zombies, each shaft taking a monstrous life. In seconds, all the zombies were gone.
“That weapon is incredible,” General Rusak said with a grin. “It will give us an unbelievable advantage against the zombies and spiders.”
The skeleton warlord nodded. “Tensions have been high since the disappearance of the zombie warlord. The spiders try to expand their territory while the zombie kingdom struggles in chaos. The Fossil Bow of Destruction will give us the advantage, allowing us to control the other monsters. Once we have enough relics from the wizards and warlocks, we’ll then move against the villagers.”
General Rusak smiled.
“Today begins the reign of the skeletons.” Rakir glanced at the other monsters around him. Quickly they began to cheer his name, lest they become the next victim themselves. “Soon all will grovel before us, both monster and villager alike. With this bow, we will destroy any that stand in our way.”
“Nothing will stop us, warlord,” General Rusak said.
“Perhaps you are right.” The skeleton warlord put the enchanted bow into his inventory, then lowered his voice so only the general heard. “The new wither king, Krael, gave me a warning.”
“What did he say?”
“He told that that the descendants of the great wizards can use this bow as well.” Rakir removed it from his inventory again. The purple light from the enchanted weapon threw a lavender glow on the cold stone walls. “Every one of those descendants will want to take this bow from us. Before we can begin our campaign to take over the Far Lands, we must first destroy anyone who might challenge us.”
“You mean the offspring of the wizards?” Rusak asked.
The skeleton warlord nodded. “Krael told me the descendants are similar to the wizards, in that they all have red hair and are expert archers.”
“Red hair?” Rusak asked, confused.
“Yes, the wizards had red hair, as did all their children.” Rakir waited for these words to sink into his general’s thick skull. “Spread the word; all skeleton scouting parties are to search for any red-headed villagers that show even the smallest bit of skill with a bow. They must all be destroyed, and their villages burned to the ground. None can be left alive, for the descendants of the great wizards of old are the only threat standing in our way of dominating the Far Lands.”
“It will be done as soon as we get back to the Hall of Pillars,” the general said.
“Good. Let’s get moving … there’s a world out there I must dominate and villages that need destroying.” The skeleton warlord laughed a hacking laugh which echoed off the walls of the long passage, making the very fabric of Minecraft cringe.
CHAPTER 2
Watcher peered over the edge of the massive hole, looking at the ancient watchtower that lay half-buried in the deep hole, the tower jutting up out of the cavity almost as if it were climbing its way into the sky. Along one edge of the massive pit, he could see a small group of skeletons leaping from block to block, slowly descending towards the bottom and the entrance to the watchtower.
They’d been following the company of skeletons through the forest since the NPC scouts had spotted them. Watcher wanted to know what they were doing so close to their village … and now they knew. They were looking for the old watchtower.
“Er-Lan does not like skeletons,” the zombie next to the young NPC whispered. “They came to Er-Lan’s zombie-town many times, raiding for supplies.”
“When was that?” Blaster asked. The boy moved next to Watcher. He was taller than both Watcher and Er-Lan, his curly black hair sticking out in all directions. “I assume it was before the zombie warlord started attacking our villages?”
Er-Lan nodded. “It was when this zombie was still part of the zombie nation.” He glanced at the two boys, then cast a quick look at Planter, her blond hair shining in the bright sunlight. “Now, Er-Lan is part of this family.”
“You got that right,” Planter said with a smile.
Watcher placed a hand on the zombie’s shoulder. “I don’t like skeletons either. In fact—” he leaned in close and whispered “—I’m terrified of them. From far away, I’m okay, but when they’re up close, they scare me, almost to death.” His voice shook a little. “I hate ’em.”
“Why does Watcher have so much hate for the skeletons?” Er-Lan asked.
The monster adjusted his chain mail, making a brief clinking sound that echoed down into the hole. Instantly, everyone froze and ducked behind a tree. One of the skeletons glanced back up toward the noise, but acted like it saw nothing.
“When I was very young, a skeleton attacked my mother and me.” Watcher’s voice took on a wistful tone. “We ran, but found ourselves cornered with a cliff at our backs. If it weren’t for one of the soldiers from the village, that monster would have … well, you know.”
The zombie nodded.
“That was when I decided I wanted to be a villager soldier, just like our rescuer.”
“And now you are a soldier,” Er-Lan said.
Watcher nodded and smiled. “But I’m just an archer. I don’t use a sword or have heavy iron armor or—”
“A smart person uses the tools that are best suited to their hands.” Er-Lan held out his hand and spread his green decaying fingers wide, the dark claw at the end of each one sparkling under the morning sun.
Just then, Planter moved next to Watcher and peered through the branches at the monsters as they moved deeper into the hole in which the ancient structure sat. Her hair smelled like sweet melons … he’d never noticed that before, but it was fantastic.
“Why do you think the skeletons are going into the Wizard’s Tower?
” Planter asked.
Watcher glanced at her. Sunlight streamed through the leafy canopy, and coated her blond hair, making the flowing locks seem to glow with a magical radiance. It seemed more vibrant than usual … in fact, everything seemed more vibrant than usual around Planter. She seemed different somehow to Watcher, but he couldn’t figure out exactly what it was.
Watcher glanced down at her clothing. Her green smock merged with the leaves of the trees, allowing her to blend in with the foliage, but the bright yellow stripe down the middle of her garment made her stand out. Gently, Watcher pushed her behind the trunk of an oak tree, so she would be well hidden.
She smiled at him, and Watcher felt as if he were melting. For some reason, a content and satisfied peacefulness settled over him when he was near Planter. It was as if, with all his faults and inadequacies, he was accepted by her, no matter what. He could just be himself, no pretending to be brave, no trying to look strong, no … nothing. All Watcher had to do was be Watcher, and that felt … fantastic.
“They must be looking for something,” Blaster replied. The young boy put on his favorite leather armor, which was dyed black. “Let’s follow them and see what they’re up to.” He turned to Watcher. “Your sister, Winger, should have made it back to the village by now. We’ll have help soon.”
Watcher nodded, then moved to the edge of the massive hole that had been excavated around the ancient tower. With an arm across his chain mail armor to keep it from making too much noise, he jumped onto the rocky surface, following the redstone torches that marked the safe trail down. The three companions moved along the roughhewn walls much faster than the skeletons, having the benefit of the flickering torches that showed the easier path.
“Everyone hide, they’re looking around.” Watcher ducked behind a block of stone, his three friends doing the same.
With his sensitive vision, the young boy peeked around the edge of the block. The largest of the skeletons down below them glanced up and around at his surroundings, the monster’s chain mail reflecting the few rays of sunlight that managed to penetrate the depths. With arrow notched and bowstring pulled back, the monster scanned the area, looking for an innocent victim to destroy.
“Do you think … they saw us?” Planter asked, her voice cracking with fear.
“If they had, they’d be firing at us.” Blaster adjusted his black leather cap, then glanced quickly around the moss-covered block. “They’re moving again.” He stood. “Come on, let’s keep following.”
Blaster continued down the rocky path, jumping from block to block, the others following closely. They finally reached the entrance to the structure. A hole had been carved into the ceiling of the ornately-decorated building, the multicolored roof stretching out into the darkened cavern that lay hidden under landscape above.
“Why do you think this building sank into the ground?” Watcher asked. “It’s almost as if it fell into some kind of sinkhole, then was buried.”
“Who knows why the ancient wizards did anything during the Great War? It was hundreds of years ago.” Blaster headed down the brick stairs that led to the ground floor of the structure. “I’m more interested in what the skeletons are looking for now. My dad and I searched this place a while back. I’m sure there are still passages in there that we missed; many were blocked off by cave-ins, fallen sand, and gravel blocking the way.”
“You hear that?” Watcher stopped on the stairs and cupped his hand around his ear. “It sounds like digging.”
“Let’s hurry and see what they’re doing.” Planter put on an iron chest plate, donned chain mail leggings and helm, then pulled out an enchanted bow. The magical power in the weapon bathed her in a lavender glow, shining light onto the walls and floor. She notched an arrow, then followed Blaster down the steps.
The three friends reached the last of the stairs. Before them stood a massive, cylindrical tower that stretched high into the air. Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, casting colorful beams of light to the floor. The last time they’d been here, Blaster had shown them his cache of weapons. That had been months ago, after the zombie warlord had invaded their village and taken most of the inhabitants captive. Watcher and his friends had traveled far to free the NPCs and stop the zombie-warlord from destroying any more villages. It has been a terrifying adventure that took them to the Capitol where they’d faced off and destroyed the wither king, Kaza. Watcher had hoped his adventures were at an end, and he wouldn’t need to come here again. But with the new enchanted weapons they’d discovered in the Capitol, at least they were more prepared for battle.
Watcher moved around the tower and followed the sound of the digging. Hiding behind the edge of a wide doorway, he spotted the skeletons at the end of a long corridor, each of them digging through a pile of gravel blocking the passage. As soon as the pale monsters created a large enough opening that refused to cave in on them, they moved deeper into the structure.
“Come on, let’s follow them.” Reaching into his inventory, Watcher pulled out an enchanted sword. The thin blade gave off an iridescent purple glow, adding to the light from Planter’s bow. Its shining, mirror-like surface reflected his own worried expression, as if the blade were seeing into his very soul. The blade was called Needle; it was the weapon that had been used to destroy the king of the withers deep within the ancient chambers of the Capitol. The blade had first belonged to Planter, but in that terrible battle with the wither, Needle had somehow bonded to Watcher. It would now only respond to Watcher for some reason.
They ran down the long, brick-lined tunnel, the high ceiling overhead lost to the darkness. In the distance, the skeletons moved carefully through the passage, a torch held high overhead. Occasionally, a trap of some kind would trigger, destroying the lead skeletons, but once each was identified, the monsters stopped and disarmed the tripwires or pressure plates, then continued, their numbers slowly diminishing, even though there were still many of the bony creatures in their party.
Suddenly, the skeletons took a side passage, abandoning the main corridor. Watcher ran forward, his leather boots making a quiet scuffling sound that echoed off the walls, the chain mail wrapped around his chest jingling softly. I hope they can’t hear us, the young boy thought. There are at least dozen skeletons in their party. If they attack us, we’d be in trouble.
Watcher reached the side passage and peeked around the corner. The narrow corridor was lit with redstone lanterns, the glowing cubes embedded in the floor and in the impossibly high ceiling. At the end of the hallway, he spotted the skeletons approaching an entrance to a large room bathed in darkness.
“Blaster, you ever been down here?” Watcher asked.
The dark-haired boy shook his head, causing tangles of black curls to slip out from beneath his leather cap. “My dad …” He stopped for a moment to remember his father. He’d been destroyed in the zombie attack that fell upon their village, led by the late zombie warlord. “My dad said there would be more traps deeper into the structure. We figured it wasn’t worth the risk.”
“Apparently the skeletons didn’t mind sacrificing a few of their own to get in here,” Planter added, shaking her head.
Another trap went off, causing the walls of the narrow passage to suddenly fall away, revealing a set of dispensers on either side. Arrows streaked out from the gray blocks, impaling the skeleton who had triggered the mechanism. The pale monster quickly fell to the ground, its HP almost immediately consumed. Once the monster was off the pressure plate, the arrows stopped and the walls moved back into place. With an iron pickaxe, one of the skeletons destroyed the stone pressure plate, then the group moved quickly into the large room. The light from their torches moved far into the shadows and away from the entrance.
“Come on, we need to see what they’re doing,” Blaster said. “We can’t let any relics from the wizards or warlocks fall into the monsters’ hands.”
“Skeletons will use all relics for evil,” Er-Lan whispered, a hateful tone in his voi
ce. “They cannot be trusted.”
Blaster nodded his agreement and slapped the zombie on the back, then gave him a smile.
Watcher sprinted down the passage, his keen eyes watching the ground with caution; they didn’t want to trigger any traps themselves. The footsteps of his three friends echoed off the walls, giving the young boy a feeling of security.
At the end of the passage, Watcher peered around the corner, looking for the monsters. To his surprise, he found himself staring into the stacks of a huge library. It was bigger than any library he’d seen in a village or stronghold. The bookshelves were stacked six-high, the spines of the books covered with dust.
“Er-Lan did not expect to find books.” The zombie gazed at the countless tomes in amazement.
“Wait here,” Watcher said.
Quickly, he dashed to the nearest stack and grabbed a book. Spinning on his toes, he darted back to the entrance. As soon as he exited the chamber, a purple glow enveloped the book in his hands, then it turned to dust and fell through his fingers, sprinkling the ground before him.
“I guess we aren’t taking any books with us.” Blaster kicked at the pile of dust on the ground. “Let’s get in there and see what they’re doing.”
Both Watcher and Planter nodded, then the friends moved quietly into the massive library.
High overhead, wooden beams ran the length of the chamber to hold up the stone ceiling. Along the center of the room, three huge chandeliers hung down, the structures made of dark wood and stained glass, their torches all extinguished. But where the chandeliers met the ceiling, a circle of glowing redstone lanterns cast faint illumination on the chamber.
“I see their torch at the far end.” Blaster reached into his inventory and pulled out a pair of long, curved knives, his preferred weapons. “Follow me.”
They moved through the library, hugging the shadows. Blaster’s black-leather armor made him nearly invisible in the darkness. But then Watcher noticed that an iridescent glow painted the walls of the passage; their enchanted weapons were making them easy to see. He put away Needle and had Planter do the same with her enchanted bow and their magical armor, and they moved forward using mundane weapons and chain mail instead.
Bones of Doom Page 2
