Hunter’s Adventure
This story take place right after Mission to the Moon, when the NPC’s return to their village. All they have is Weaver’s history books to remember, and Hunter is furious at what he put in writing. She stole that book and hid it, so no one can find it. Especially Gameknight.
Part One: Adventure
I impatiently watched out over the field, bow drawn. An annoying boy had told Crafter a horde of zombies were coming, and I told Crafter he was likely lying, but no chances could be taken. So I was positioned on the wall of the village to keep watch, and Stitcher was on another side. A Watcher was in an archer tower, looking out for danger.
Suddenly, a figure in a iron gear appeared over a hill. I set my bow down and smiled.
“Crafter, open the gates!” I yelled.
The young leader shouted for the gates to be opened, and in came Gameknight999.
“GAMEKNIGHT!!!!!” Topper, Digger’s son, yelled, jumping into Gameknight’s arms. Filler, his sister, climbed onto Gameknight’s shoulders, smiling in triumph.
Slowly, Digger emerged from behind a corner, and Gameknight smiled his way as he set Topper and Filler down. They ran over to a tree, and I climbed off the wall. Gameknight gave me an awkward smile, and turned away.
What was that!?!?! I thought. Gameknight would usually talk to me, not smile then look away.
“Gameknight!” Stitcher yelled and leaped off the wall into a pool of water at the bottom. She ran to give him a tight hug. I smiled wondering if Weaver ever told Gameknight about that thing in the other timeline. Oh great, what if he did! I would be so embarrassed! I do have slight memories, although they never happened to me in this timeline. And telling Weaver about that thing is one of them.
“Ah, Gameknight, could you come here?” Gameknight walked over, confused. “What? Is there a problem?” He asked.
“Yes. Did Weaver ever say anything about anybody to you at the end of your ‘adventure’?”
“No…”
I could hear the lying tone in his voice.
“He did. Who?”
“He wouldn’t say. He said ‘what someone thinks about you’.”
Not many people have gotten around to reading the end of Weaver’s adventure, so I was lucky to hide it before anyone read the end. Many people have went looking for the final installment of his series, but they never discovered it. I did first.
“Good, that person wants it a secret. So that is the way it will stay.” I said, glaring at Gameknight.
“THE ZOMBIE HAS ENTERED THE VILLAGE!” A boy yelled, and aimed a bow at Gameknight.
“Shut up, Runner. It’s Gameknight.” Stitcher growled. “That horde, the one you warned Crafter about, was fake. It was obvious. You should be punished.”
“Me?! Your sister hid one of the history books for herself! And you think I should be punished! We need knowledge!”
“I did hide the book, but even I don’t read it. I hid it for good reason. You wouldn’t understand. I did it at the dead of night.”
I spoke up. “Why was this child up anyway, Runner? Why?”
“Well, I heard noise from your house, so I got out of bed to follow you.” Runner admitted.
“Gameknight, this is the third time this week that a kid has bothered me. I’m done with this server. I want more adventure. This is BORING!” I complained. I pulled on my armor and walked through the doors of the village, drawing my favorite bow. I heard footsteps behind me. Likely my friends. Suddenly, a villager came out of the woods. It was Herder.
“Hey, Hunter!” What has you out here?” Herder yelled.
“I’m going to a zombie town. To a new server. One to restart. More adventure.”
“Well, I am going with you!” Herder exclaimed.
I turned around to see all my friends behind me. Gameknight put a hand on my shoulder. “We are too.”
“You are not alone.” Crafter said. “I want new adventure as well. Our first adventure prolonged my life, and I plan to make the most of it.”
“Let’s go!” Digger exclaimed in his booming voice.
We took off for the nearest zombie town.
“I never thought I would be purposely going to a zombie town!” Stitcher exclaimed. “This is kinda exciting!”
“Yeah!” Gameknight said.” I can’t wait to bust in there and slice through anything that tries to hurt my friends.”
We were silent for the rest of the trip. We walked through the woods, then started to walk down the twists and turns of a cave. Herder looked down at his wolves when we arrived. “Can they come?”
Gameknight shook his head. “Too many. On the new server we won’t have pens for them. You can bring one. Not the alpha, the others need a guide.” Gameknight pulled a paper from his inventory. “Attach this to the alpha’s collar.”
Herder took the paper, and looped it around the wolf’s collar.
“Once we are in the portal, send the wolves back. One can come with us.
“Wolfie!” Herder shouted. A wolf stepped out from the rest. Herder kneeled down, and whispered something in the wolf’s ear. The wolf moved closer to Herder. Then he whispered something in the alpha’s ear, and he barked to the pack. They all growled, Wolfie and Alpha at the front.
I pushed the block into the wall, and the door slid open. We dashed down the passage, and Herder sent his wolves down the passage ahead of us.
We ran, me and Stitcher at the back. I whispered a plan to Stitcher, and we began to dig an upward tunnel in the wall, one on each side. We eventually started to go up, and finally reached the destined point. Then we made a platform to fire from. About fifty blocks away, on the other side, Stitcher was on her platform, bow drawn. We fired at the same target, take them out with one arrow from each of us.
“Stitcher, make a bridge to the other side of the cavern!” I yelled over to her.
Using the stone we just gathered, we made a safe bridge to the other side of the large cave, firing as we went. We did not mean to destroy all the zombies, just get to the other side. We only fired at zombies close to our friends. I bridged over to Stitcher, having taken the farther side from the portal. Then we made stairs down, or Stitcher did. My bow hadn’t rested the whole time.
We joined Gameknight, Herder, Wolfie, Digger, and Crafter at the mouth of the portal chamber. Herder whistled loudly, and the pack stormed from the cavern, led by Alpha.
We stepped through the portal, to be met by silence.
No one was in the next cavern. Not a single zombie. So we rushed out of the area, and Gameknight informed us it was probably abandoned. The fountains wouldn’t spray, and the obsidian platform was missing blocks. Most of all, there were no crammed houses. The chamber was open. So we stormed to the passage, and ran form the abandoned cavern to open air.
Part Two: A New Server
We rushed out of the cave and into bright sunlight. Wolfie howled, eager that he could smell air and not rotting flesh. Although the cavern was abandoned, it was not clean of smell.
“Oh no.” Crafter gasped, looking through the trees into the distance. “This is not good. We have to go.”
Crafter ran in the direction he had been looking, and I was close on his heels. It was a village, but it was a wreck. The doors had been busted open. The water from the gardens and well were everywhere, as if the blocks holding them in had been placed elsewhere. Suddenly, a tapping noise came from in one of the more intact buildings. I notched an arrow to my bow and tiptoed inside. I almost fired when I saw two figures in the shadows, but they moved into a ray of light, revealing two villagers, their smocks torn with holes on their shoulders, knees, and elbows.
“I am Smithy, and this is Blacky. Our village was destroyed by a horde of zombies. When the sun rose, the village burned, taking lives- Undead and Alive.”
Smithy said, and he pulled a gold sword from his inventory. Blacky pulled the same weapon, but also pulled a wooden pickaxe.
“The weapon difference tells us apart.” Smithy said. “By the way, I am the older brother.”
“By 2 minutes!” Blacky wined.
Smithy grinned. “Still counts.”
Blacky scowled at his twin brother, and then muttered something under his breath.
“What?” Smithy asked.
“Nothing, just that Dad told me I was the favorite son.”
“DAD IS DEAD, BLACKY, shut up.” Smithy growled.
Blacky slunk back in defeat, tucking his weapons away.
“Boys, let’s go.” I said. “Now.”
We walked out of the room in silence, and I greeted Crafter outside.
“Empty.” He said, grief floating in his voice.
“Oh.” Stitcher muttered sadly, walking over.
Gameknight and Digger walked over. “Empty.”
“We heard.” Stitcher whispered, sadness and anger raking in her voice. “Let’s go.”
I watched my sister leave the village and sit down on the dirt. She had a depressed frown etched on her normally happy face, and a single tear ran down Smithy’s cheek, clearing a line on his face from dirt.
Wolfie barked and Herder turned to Gameknight.
“He wants to leave.” Herder reported.
“Then let’s go. We have to find a place for a base. We should go back the way we came, then look for a plains biome, then build multiple bases for shelter for everyone.” Gameknight said, looking back into the woods.
“What about an igloo, or a tree house, or a mini-base, or a FORTRESS!” Blacky wondered aloud. He pulled out a piece of paper and drew at an amazing pace, sketching out the plans for a stone fortress.
“We should re-name you Sketcher!” Stitcher exclaimed, peering over the tall villager’s shoulder. Come to think of it, his stocky form was similar to Digger’s, much unlike his older brother, who was muscular, but tall and skinny.
I smiled, not being involved much in this conversation.
“Uh, let’s go.” I said, making my point clear.
We left the village silently, except for Stitcher and Blacky chatting, like they’ve known each other for a lifetime but never met. Stitcher was just over half his height, making her look tiny. Blacky was slightly taller than Digger, and his brother could be deemed an Enderman in the dead of night.
Finally, we found a plains biome. Directly south of the cave we came from. Blacky showed around his plans, and we began to build. Then a treehouse, a mini-base, and a igloo came along for back up. A lot of backup.
When the final base was done, Herder set down some iron, snow, and pumpkins into two kinds of golems. An Iron Golem sprouted to life, then a Snow Golem, each deemed Iry and Bella. Herder said Bella sounded like bell, and in the winter he would ring a bell to call the animals through the snow. He managed to find a ocelot in a local jungle, and tamed it and named it Ocey. The team was growing, and quick.
“Hey, Hunter, I have to go.” Gameknight said. The building was done, so was defense.
“Okay. Uh, um. Uh-” I studdered.
Gameknight gave me a hug, then disappeared in a bright light.
Part Three: The Griefer’s War
I impatiently gazed into an empty room, Gameknight999 should of gotten here by now. He was late. Suddenly, a ball of light appeared and Gameknight came with it. The room we designed was meant for Gameknight to spawn.
Long story short, Gameknight and the crew left Crafter’s server in search of adventure. We found a village in wreckage, and there were two brothers underneath the wood. Smithy and Blacky. The looked exactly alike, so we gave one a gold sword and one a gold sword and a wooden pickaxe. Smithy only had one weapon. We found a flat area and we built a base and a backup bases to sleep in and hide if needed.
I tossed Gameknight his diamond gear and diamond swords. He pulled on his iron pants and boots, the rest was diamond.
“Thanks, Hunter. Um. There’s a problem.” Gameknight said, his voice trembling.
“What!” I exclaimed. Gameknight rarely is scared, telling me this was a serious problem.
“It’s Grief Week in the physical world. A bunch of griefers get together and destroy a server.”
“So?”
“I found the server IP address. It’s this one. The coordinates match the ones in the front of the fortress. I was in Grief Week once. We crashed the server and there was no land anyway. All water and air. No villagers either.” Gameknight said.
“They play in survival. They respawn. They re-stock. They fight again. They repeat. Mackerel668 is leading the army. He is my neighbor. His fighting tactics are simple. He will shoot arrows from the back, then hit his own troops with his bad aim. Hopefully he hasn’t changed much.”
“Oh.” I said. “We better warn everybody to be ready. Go grab Chestnut. Saddle her up. Me and Stitcher will be in the towers. Crafter will work with the TNT cannon.” Gameknight took off, and I left to grab Stitcher.
Chestnut was our horse. Since we only had one, Gameknight was always the rider. Crafter had built a TNT cannon. We were low on gunpowder, so he only had 4 pieces to work with.
“Stitcher!” I yelled. My sister ran over to me. I explained Grief Week, and how we needed to prepare. She nodded.
“I will get more arrows.” Stitcher said. She ran off.
Suddenly, I remembered Herder. I ran over to him and explained why we needed him. He had his wolf (Wolfie), a ocelot (Ocey), an Iron Golem (Iry), and his Snow Golem that liked warm weather (Bella).
“Ocey, Wolfie, Iry, Bella, come here! He called. His four friends were over in a second.
“Hunter, you are right. We need all hands -and paws- on deck. This is worth it.” Herder rushed off, and his team went with him. When each member was added to the team, they were given a job. Bella had all Nether mobs under her belt, while Ocey had creepers. Wolfie had skeletons, and Iry took care of the rest. If there were no skeletons, Iry and Wolfie were a tight team, and they always looked out for each other. I assumed with mostly users, they would be a team again.
I searched for Gameknight through all the chaos and trouble. The twins were running around, adding simple defenses to the lawn in front of the fortress. Smithy’s favorite was the 6-block-deep hole. Usually, multiple mobs (in this case, users) would fall in, and they can’t dig or place blocks because the others in the hole would be in the way.
Blacky liked tripwires equipped with arrow dispensers. They were annoying if you had armor, but if not, fatal. Smithy would then put his holes, known as Sixes, in front of the tripwires so the users cannot jump over them. Sometimes, Sixes were made with lava at the bottom. This would speed up the process.
After the Sixes were done, I walked up to the blacksmiths. “Guys, we needs dirt walls here and there. 3 by 3 should be good enough. Just to confuse them.” I assigned.
“Okay!” Smithy replied, and the brothers took off, making the walls.
I readied my bow, notching an arrow. Holding the weapon firmly in my hand, I ran over to Gameknight, who was discussing something with Stitcher.
“Hunter! Right on time!” We need you and Stitcher to-” Gameknight was interrupted by a small villager running toward the fortress. “Help! HELP!” he yelled, causing Digger to turn his head. He was talking with Crafter. Suddenly, the villager fell to ground, out of breath. Digger ran over to pick up the young boy. He carried him over to Gameknight, then set him down on the grass.
The boy looked up at Gameknight and said ” I’m Watcher, and my village has been destroyed by a group of about 50 users. The leader was on a horse in the back. His name was Mackerel, or something like that.”
“Watcher, I am Hunter. This is Gameknight, Digger, and Crafter. Over here is Stitcher, and out in the field is Smithy and Blacky, and Blacky has the pickaxe.” I said. I switched my gaze Gameknight. “One more warrior never hurt anybody.”
“Hunter, your right.” Gameknight said. He looked down at Watcher. “What is your best weapon?”
“Pickaxe.”
Gameknight tossed him an iron pickaxe, and Watcher caught it with one hand.
“You should play baseball.” Gameknight said.
Watcher looked up at him, confused.
“Never mind.” Gameknight said, but I knew that it was a sport in the physical world.
Watcher pushed himself up, and practiced swinging his pickaxe. His small form was a blur as he swung, narrowly missing Stitcher’s head. I pulled her closer to me, letting the small villager rush through the opening.
“Watcher, you have remarkable skill with that tool!” Crafter said, stepping over to the panting boy.
Considering he almost hit my sister, I ignored the praise he was getting and pulled on my armor. Stitcher followed me into the fortress, and we each climbed into a separate tower. At the front of the fortress, two archer towers had been built for us, in which we were standing.
As I looked down on the group, I noticed Digger standing apart from the group, looking ashamed and grim. Then he turned and trudged away. Stitcher looked over to me, obviously watching the same scene as me. I watched Digger sit down and set down his pickaxes next to him.
I looked over to Stitcher, and said “Digger is mad someone else is good with a pickaxe. Tell him to show off.”
Stitcher looked down the battle tower and said to Digger below: “Hey Digger, how about you show off to the group. That will show them.”
Digger looked up and smiled, then grabbed his pickaxes and jumped up.
“Hey Watcher, you want to see my pickaxe skills?” Digger offered.
Not waiting for a reply, he leaped into action, slicing the air and throwing himself toward Watcher, who was watching in amazement. Digger threw a pickaxe high in the air, sliced a blade of grass with his other one, then caught the first one and triumphantly held it in the air.
“Digger I…” Watcher said, but didn’t continue his sentence, as everyone began to clap for Digger’s show.
Watcher waited for the clapping to end, then said: “Digger, we should work together. Pickaxe and Pickaxes. We could save people…And this world.”
Digger didn’t even look at the boy. “That could work.”
“GAMEKNIGHT!!!!!! THEIR ON THE HORIZON! LET’S GO!!!!” Stitcher yelled, and readied her bow. I did as well, and quickly, below us, Gameknight had guided the group into a formation, and swords and pickaxes were drawn. By now, Smithy and Blacky had retreated to the group, Gameknight had mounted Chestnut, Herder had collected his friends, and got them into the formation.
“Gameknight, does Mackerel know you won’t be on his side?” I shouted to him.
“No, and hopefully that will help. But they will respawn, so we have to work hard.”
“How will we survive if they can respawn?” I asked, hoping his answer won’t be idiotic.
“Well, the easiest way to handle this is for you to get off the server and me to undigitize and delete the server, but I won’t do that. Another way is to kill them over and over again until all their armor breaks, almost impossible. The best way is to switch it so they can’t respawn, and we need a command block for that. Or, I could use a command.”
“Gameknight, if you do that, will they be kicked from the server when they die?” Crafter asked, waiting for the swarm to arrive.
Gameknight didn’t say anything. He was trying to switch the command. Finally, he looked at Crafter and nodded. “Let’s do this!”
The Griefers were about 100 blocks away when our side rushed forward, swinging blades and ducking under attacks. Me and Stitcher were firing a volley of arrows, aiming for one target at a time to take them out. We killed 4 or 5 before the front lines got to close to aim at. We both aimed for the troops around Mackerel, knowing Mackerel was armored better then the rest. All had to do was guide Stitcher to a target and fire.
We killed about 10 users before we had to aim closer to the fortress to help our side. We had expected about 50, but we got 150. By the looks of it, our team had killed about a third of the griefers, which was good. Only 100 left.
Me and Stitcher were too focused to break, so we were a whirlwind of arrows and a song of bowstrings. Me and Stitcher hadn’t taken a single bit of damage, because the warriors either didn’t have bows or were too focused on Gameknight and the other melee fighters to hit us. Or they didn’t care.
Me and Stitcher fired enough arrows to supply 50 skeletons for a lifetime. Arrow after arrow, griefer after griefer, death after death. We were winning, now there were only about 75 griefers left, and the numbers were shrinking by the moment.
With less and less, the griefers were putting less and less effort into the battle. Instead of dodging arrows, they calmly let themselves get hit, and they seemed to care less about where they were.
The only one not to follow this suit was Mackerel668. He sat on his steed with anger, glaring at Gameknight across the battlefield. He shoved his own forward, letting them take damage if they fell.
The lava Sixes proved effective. Many users had been killed from them. I glanced around the area, looking for a new target. I found one, and me and Stitcher let a volley of arrows, destroying him in seconds. The field was a litter of items and XP, and with only about 10 users left, our success was almost guaranteed. Now, me and Stitcher aimed at Mackerel.
“Girls, stop!” Gameknight called, as he killed the last of the users. “I have to talk to him.”
“What, Gamenoob?” Mackerel said.
“Us. We were friends. When you saw me defending the NPCs, who are my friends, I could see you fight harder. Were you scared? Were you mad? Why?” Gameknight said, anger pulsing in his voice. “Answer ME!!!”
“We never were friends. That was an act to get you on our team. You were a record griefer. We wanted you. So us griefer faked you, and now, we shall duel, for the best gamer title.”
“Mackerel, no gamer would let his troops fight while he sat in the background, letting them die! You are not a gamer! You will always be a griefer!” Gameknight yelled. “Girls! Fire!”
We let a volley of arrows fall on Mackerel, being careful not to hit his horse. He glared at Gameknight. But he couldn’t stop his doom. He went up in smoke, and his items spilled out into the horse.
“Yes!!!” Crafter exclaimed. I leaped off the tower into a pool of water at the bottom. I gave Gameknight a tight hug, then pulled away. But I found him giving me a small kiss.
I smiled.
THE END