Saving Crafter, page 5
“And where is that place?” his father asked.
“I don’t know … but Crafter does.”
“So we just ask him and put the pig there…. Is that right?”
“Sort of,” Gameknight said. “I’m not sure Crafter can tell us anything. He was so weak when we left the game before. I don’t think he’ll be able to tell us what we need to know.”
“Then what are we going to do?” Monkeypants asked.
“I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out.”
“I’m glad you are so confident,” his father said.
“I have to be. These people are my friends and my responsibility, and Crafter is my best friend. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure he is safe. I have no choice. If he gets any sicker, he may die. I’d never be able to handle that kind of guilt.”
Monkeypants was about to reply, but instead stayed silent and just nodded his head.
“Keep your eyes open, Dad. The village is just over this hill,” Gameknight said.
The two riders crested the top of the hill and were greeted by the sight of an NPC village lit with torches. A tall cobblestone wall surrounded the community, defenders walking along the barricade, bows in their blocky hands. Gameknight could see that the villagers had deepened the moat that surrounded the wall, making entrance into the village possible across only a narrow bridge. Archer towers had spouted up next to the wooden crossing since the last time Gameknight had been there. Narrow bridges arched from the towers to the fortified walls, allowing warriors easy access to the towers without having to go outside their protective stone cocoon.
“Wow, did you show them how to build this?” Monkeypants asked.
“No,” Gameknight answered. “It was really Shawny. He designed the defenses for the village.”
Suddenly, the growling moans of a zombie horde drifted out of the dark forest surrounding the area.
“What’s that?” his father asked.
“Zombies—lots of them,” Gameknight answered. “Come on, the time for stealth is over. Now we need speed.”
Digging their heels into the horses’ sides, they sprinted toward the village gate. As they streaked down the hill, Gameknight could see archers running to the towers, their prickly shafts pointing out toward the dark trees. Warriors were mounting the walls, their shining metal armor reflecting the light of the moon, making each appear to glow as they readied for battle.
“Two riders coming in!” shouted the watcher from the tall cobblestone that stood at the center of the village.
Gameknight could see the iron doors on the other side of the wooden bridge slowly open. Hunter and Digger stepped out and waved, then waited for the pair’s arrival.
Not slowing to say hello, Gameknight shot through the gates with his father right on his heels. Once they were inside, he leapt off the horse and motioned for his father to do the same. Turning to the iron doors, Gameknight took a step toward the entrance, but suddenly started to hear the murmurings of the villagers.
“The User-that-is-not-a-user has returned,” someone said.
More villagers were coming out of their homes, weapons in their hands. They ran for their assigned places, each having a task to do for the defense of the village. But as they headed for their positions, they saw Gameknight999 and stopped, smiles showing on their blocky faces.
“He’s back!”
“The User-that-is-not-a-user is here!”
The NPCs slowly approached him, some of them gently touching his arm or shoulder in greeting.
“It’s Gameknight999!”
“He’s here again!”
More villagers approached until Gameknight was completely surrounded. They crowded so close to him that he could barely see anything. A voice rang out from the village wall, a high pitched voice that he knew well.
It was Stitcher, and she was yelling at the top of her lungs.
“The User-that-is-not-a-user has returned!” she shouted, raising her enchanted bow high over her head.
The villagers cheered.
“FOR MINECRAFT!” Stitcher screamed.
“FOR MINECRAFT!” the NPCs echoed, and the village filled with shouts of courage and joy.
“Hey! The reunion is over!” Hunter yelled from atop the fortified wall. “Get to your positions! A mob of zombies is attacking and they weren’t invited to this party!”
The villagers shouted as they ran to their positions, ready to take up the defense of their home once again.
“So much for the celebration,” Gameknight said as he drew his diamond sword, a look of determination on his square face.
CHAPTER 9
ZOMBIES!
A growling, moaning horde of zombies charged toward the village. The sound made little square goosebumps form along Gameknight’s spine. He would have been happy to never hear that sound again. Glancing over his shoulder, Gameknight looked at his father.
“Come on, let’s get to the top of the walls,” Gameknight said.
Not waiting for a reply, he ran to the steps and climbed them until he was atop the fortified wall and standing next to Hunter. Her curly hair now looked as it was meant to appear—like coils of crimson springs glowing in the moonlight. She had her enchanted bow out and was firing arrows out into the open plain. The arrows instantly lit aflame as they left her magical bow, for she had the Flame enchantment on her weapon, as well as Infinite.
Suddenly, Monkeypants was at his side. His monkey-face looked white when he looked over the edge of the tall fortified wall to the ground below. Gameknight could tell that his father’s acrophobia made this difficult for him.
“You OK?” Gameknight asked.
What’s wrong? Is Dad OK? Jenny asked through the chat.
Yeah, it’s just his fear of heights, Gameknight thought, his words appearing on his sister’s screen.
His father nodded and turned away from the precipice. Trying to ignore his fear, he faced the other NPCs.
“This must be the real Hunter,” he said in a shaky voice. “Pleased to meet you.”
“No time for pleasantries right now,” she said. “We’re kinda in the middle of a battle. If you want to make yourself useful, then grab some buckets of water and dump them against the walls where zombies are trying to climb.”
“Water?”
“It will push them back down the wall,” Gameknight explained.
“Ahh,” Monkeypants said, nodding his head.
The zombies advanced across the open plain and were within range of the archers. Countless arrows flew through the air toward the creatures who were unfortunate enough to be part of the initial charge.
“I wish you’d left some blocks of TNT out there when you came in,” Hunter said to Gameknight999.
“You didn’t leave me any in my hidey-hole,” he chided.
“Do I still have to do everything?” she replied, smiling.
A zombie splashed across the watery moat, drawing her attention. Hunter turned, aimed, then fired three arrows in quick succession, each of them hitting their target. The creature disappeared.
Suddenly, Gameknight felt someone tugging at his sleeve.
“Gameknight … Gameknight … GAMEKNIGHT999!”
“What?” he snapped as he turned.
In front of him was Herder, his long black hair dangling down to his shoulders, the sweat-soaked strands sticking to his forehead and neck. The lanky youth was out of breath.
“Slow down, Herder. What’s wrong?”
“It’s Crafter,” the young NPC said. “I think he’s getting worse.”
“What do you mean?” Gameknight asked.
“The shadow of evil just attacked again and he’s really weak,” Herder explained. “We need to do something.”
“Did you give him a potion of healing?” Stitcher asked as she approached. The young girl was half the size of the other warriors on the wall, but they all bowed to her as she walked by; her skill with the bow was legendary and she’d saved many lives with it on countless occasions. Everyone respected Hunter’s younger sister.
“The healing potions aren’t doing much good anymore,” Herder said, a look of fear on his face. “I don’t know what to do.”
Digger now approached, having seen the discussion from below.
“We need to do something,” the big NPC said. “Crafter was attacked so suddenly that he didn’t have time to transfer his crafting power to me. If he dies, so does our village, and every villager will become Lost.”
“What is Lost?” Monkeypants whispered to his son.
“If a village loses their crafter, then the NPCs are called Lost, and they must strike out across the land to find a new village. Few survive.”
“Oh no,” his father said.
Gameknight nodded his head solemnly.
“If I can interject,” Monkeypants said. “I have some rules I’ve taught my son over the years.”
“Daaaad,” Gameknight whined, embarrassed.
LOL, Jenny typed.
Hunter looked at Monkeypants, then glanced above his head.
“That’s right, my dad came with me into the game,” Gameknight said. “He likes computer games, alright? He’s been playing them since he was young and wanted to see what Minecraft was all about.”
“Uh-huh,” Hunter replied, not listening to her friend’s explanation. She giggled then gave the User-that-is-not-a-user a mischievous smile. “Your family seems to enjoy coming in here with you. One would think they don’t trust you very much.”
“It’s not like that,” Gameknight complained. “He plays my favorite games sometimes and I play his.”
“Like Wing Commander,” Monkeypants blurted out with pride. “Only the greatest first-person space dogfight game ever when it came out in 1990.”
Gameknight cringed with embarrassment as Hunter laughed.
“Hunter, don’t goof around right now and be nice,” Stitcher said.
“Please, Mr. Monkeypants, share with us your rule,” Hunter said with a grin.
“Rule number two—If something isn’t working, try something different,” Monkeypants stated. “If the potions you are making aren’t helping Crafter, then you need a different potion. Who makes them for you?”
A huge growling roar suddenly came from the tree line. Gameknight knew who made that sound. Glancing at the trees, his worst fears were confirmed: Xa-Tul stepped out of the shadows just as the sun’s square face was rising from behind the eastern horizon. On his head, the monster wore a crown that looked as if it were made from golden claws. It sparkled in the morning sunlight.
“Great. Just what we need … Him,” Gameknight said.
“Brewer,” Stitcher said.
“What?” Gameknight asked.
“Your dad,” she looked above his father’s head and read the name, “Monkeypants271 asked who makes the potions. Brewer has been doing it, but he’s running out of Nether Wart and that’s the main ingredient.”
“It seems to me,” Monkeypants said, “that you need some stronger medicine for Crafter. Where do you go to get stronger healing potions?”
“We’d have to go the Nether to get more Nether Wart,” Stitcher said.
“No, that would give you the same thing you have now,” Monkeypants said and pointed to Herder. “This fine young man here said that your healing potions were not strong enough. We need to take it up a level. Where can we get stronger healing potions?”
“We need potions of rejuvenation for Crafter,” Herder said. “And I know only one source for those.”
“Where?” Digger asked.
“A witch,” the young NPC said, his voice edged with fear. “We need a witch.”
“A witch?” Gameknight asked.
Witches were dangerous NPCs with ideas of their own. It was never clear whose side they were really on: the villagers or the monsters. They can’t be trusted.
“I don’t like it,” Gameknight said.
Just then, Hunter notched an arrow and fired it at another group of zombies storming the village. Across the battlefield, Gameknight could see Xa-Tul sitting atop his zombie horse just out of bowshot, his golden sword pointing directly at him.
“I see you, Fool!” the zombie king bellowed. “Why don’t you come out here and play?” Xa-Tul urged his mount forward a step, then glared up at his enemy. “Xa-Tul holds the User-that-is-not-a-user responsible for what happened to the Maker! GAMEKNIGHT999 WILL BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE!”
“Son, that large zombie seems to know you,” Monkeypants said.
“We run into each other from time to time,” Gameknight said.
Hunter laughed.
Looking across the grassy plain, the User-that-is-not-a-user could see that the archers were keeping the zombies at bay. None of them were able to cross the bridge with the hail of steel points raining down upon them. The village was safe … for now. Gameknight headed down the steps and to the ground and the others followed.
“I guess we have no choice,” Gameknight said. “We need to get Crafter to the witch. Do you know where one is at?”
“There is an old witch in the southern swamp,” Digger explained. “We’ll go there.”
“But how do we get past all those zombies?” Gameknight asked.
“Don’t worry,” Digger said, “I’ve already taken care of that.”
Then Digger did something they didn’t see very often: he smiled.
“Everyone collect what you need,” the big NPC said. “I’ll get Crafter.”
His friends disappeared, leaving Gameknight and Monkeypants standing there, listening to the moaning zombies. When his friends returned, each had a horse in tow. Herder pulled two mules on leads, a chest strapped to their backs, as well as a mount for himself. The last to arrive was Digger. He came pulling two horses, a large gray for him and a white horse with Crafter lying across its back. Ropes had been wrapped around their friend, holding him firmly to the saddle.
Swinging up onto his mount, Digger tied the lead from Crafter’s horse to his own saddle and faced the main gates.
“Come on!” he shouted to the party. “We get out this way. Smithy, you take command of the village and the battle.”
“Just like the old days,” the blacksmith said, his sword held high over his head. “Except I can only hold one sword.”
“Like the old days,” Digger agreed and headed to the rear of the village.
Gameknight and his father leapt up onto their horses. They followed Hunter and Stitcher, who were right behind Digger. Herder moved up next to Gameknight999.
“I wish it were happier circumstances bringing you back to us,” Herder said.
“Yeah … me, too,” Gameknight answered. He glanced at the pack mules, then back to Herder. “What do you have in those chests?”
“Well, potions for Crafter, as well as stuff that we might need,” the young boy explained. “I’d been studying with Crafter before he became sick, and he taught me that there are always things you need when you leave the village.”
“Like TNT?”
The lanky boy nodded.
“As well as buckets, rope, and some of his fireworks. Crafter taught me that you could never have enough of these.”
Gameknight nodded and looked toward Digger at the front of the party. The NPC seemed to sink down, going lower and lower until both he and Crafter disappeared. Kicking his horse to trot faster, Gameknight moved up next to Hunter and then understood what happened: a massive set of steps had been carved into the ground wide enough and tall enough to allow a mounted rider to descend down into the shadowy depths. Pulling back on his mount, he let Hunter and Stitcher go down the steps, then waited for Monkeypants and Herder to follow. After the pack mules moved past, Gameknight brought up the rear.
As he descended, the dusty, damp smell of the tunnel filled his senses. It was much cooler in the passage, but that was to be expected. He did not expect the secret passage to seemingly stretch out forever. Gameknight could see torches glowing in the distance, the flickering flames casting a circle of light that lit only a portion of the tunnel. He watched his friends disappear into the darkness between the warm glow of the torches, only to reappear again a few moments later.
Where is Digger leading us? Gameknight thought.
He’d never seen this secret tunnel before, and he’d been in their village a hundred times. But then something that Xa-Tul said suddenly resonated within his mind:
Gameknight999 will be held accountable.
Once, just once, he’d like to come into Minecraft and not have an army of monsters chasing him all across the server. Sighing, he urged his horse forward into the darkness.
CHAPTER 10
THE KING’S DISAPPOINTMENT
Xa-Tul sat atop his zombie horse, watching the battle unfold. Before him stood the village of the User-that-is-not-a-user. A thick wall of cobblestone surrounded the wooden structures, denying the zombie-king the vengeance he rightfully deserved. Twin towers stood like giant sentinels on either side of the wooden causeway that spanned the watery moat, balls of XP and piles of zombie flesh littering one side. He had sent a company of zombies to take that bridge, but the last of them were now perishing at the foot of the crossing, none of them having even set foot on the wooden planks.
“General Ur-Kil, send a squad of zombies through the moat,” he commanded. “Let’s see if they can get close to the doors that way.”
The zombie shuffled off to his warriors. Xa-Tul watched the newly promoted commander and laughed when he reached his troops. He was a small monster, and his diminutive height compared to the other zombies looking comical. But this Ur-Kil had two things all the other monster lacked: courage and intelligence. The other zombies followed him willingly, his compassion winning over their hearts and loyalty.
Xa-Tul must watch this Ur-Kil; he could be a threat, the zombie king thought.
The zombies shuffled off to the edge of the battlefield, then moved toward the moat that encircled the NPC village.
“General Ta-Vin, send a battalion of zombies across that bridge,” the zombie king ordered.
