Saving Crafter Read online

  “That seems pretty … violent,” Monkeypants said. “You know, sometimes there’s a better way other than the sword.”

  “Yeah? You tell the monsters that when they attack,” Gameknight replied.

  “Son, you will have to make choices in life when faced with challenges,” his father lectured. “You will have to decide if you’re going to do the right thing that will help the most people, or take the easy path and do the wrong thing. Violence is almost always the wrong path, for it just leads to more violence. Maybe we need to think of another way.”

  “Dad, you still don’t understand Minecraft. Any monster you see will want to attack you over and over until all of your HP is gone. For us right now, we’d just respawn back near our hidey-hole, but for the NPCs, it means death. So we have to look out for them and make sure that they’re safe, and the only way we can do that is if we’re alive … you understand?”

  “Well … yeah, I guess so,” Monkeypants answered.

  “So if you see a monster, like that spider over there,” Gameknight said, pointing to the top of an oak tree. “You attack it before it can attack you. That’s how you stay alive in Minecraft.”

  Monkeypants nodded his head, but Gameknight999 could tell that he still didn’t get it.

  Hunter veered to the right; she’d seen the monster hiding in the tree branches. As they skirted around it, Gameknight kept a watchful eye on the creature. The spider sat atop the leafy canopy, glaring at them with its multiple red eyes, a look of anger in those tiny glowing orbs. Monkeypants drew an arrow back and aimed it at the monster but did not fire. Instead, he only watched it as they passed.

  Spurring his horse forward, Gameknight followed Hunter’s stead, moving from a trot to a gallop. As he rode, his thoughts went to his friend in trouble. I won’t let anything happen to you, Crafter, he thought. I’ll take care of everything.

  He tried to make his thoughts sound confident and strong, but he knew that things must be dire to warrant Hunter looking for him. Driving his horse even faster, he thought about all of his friends while his soul filled with dread.

  CHAPTER 3

  THE VILLAGE

  The trio rode across the landscape in silence, pushing the horses as fast as they could go. Glancing nervously at the square sun overhead, Gameknight followed its progress as it slowly crept down toward the horizon. They had to make it to the village before sundown or they were in trouble; in Minecraft, nighttime was monster-time.

  Shifting his eyes from left to right, Gameknight was on high alert. He could hear the clicking of spiders echoing across the land, but he didn’t see any of the fearsome creatures.

  “What is that sound?” Monkeypants asked.

  “Giant spiders,” Gameknight answered.

  “I’m sorry I asked. Where are they?”

  “They’re hiding. Usually they would attack anyone found on the surface of the Overworld, but that was before.”

  “Before what?” Monkeypants asked.

  Gameknight brought his horse up next to Hunter’s and looked at his friend. She turned her head and gave him a knowing smile, then turned and looked forward.

  “Before we killed their queen, Shaikulud,” Gameknight said proudly.

  “You killed their queen?” his father asked. “Why?”

  “Well, she was trying to kill all of us,” Gameknight999 explained. “The spider queen was leading a massive army against everyone in Crafter’s village. I did what I had to so that my friends would be safe.”

  Monkeypants nodded his head and said nothing. Gameknight couldn’t see the look of pride on his father’s face.

  “So what do you think is going on now?” Monkey-pants asked.

  “I don’t know. Hunter said it was something about Crafter,” Gameknight said as he turned his head so that he could look at his father over his shoulder. “He’s my best friend, Dad, not just in Minecraft, but … in the whole world. I have to help him.”

  “Well, I guess we will found out soon,” Monkeypants said as he pointed a stubby square finger forward.

  Gameknight turned and could see the village in the distance. A tall cobblestone wall ringed the collection of wooden buildings, a watery moat surrounding the fortification. A narrow wooden bridge spanned the moat, stretching across to the iron gates embedded in the barricade. The orange light from the setting sun reflected off the metallic doors, making them appear to glow as though heated from within. It was beautiful. Tall archer towers loomed high up in the air, positioned near the bridge to give the warriors a clear field of fire upon those foolish enough to cross the walkway uninvited.

  “We have to hurry,” Gameknight said as the sky darkened, the bright orange slowly blushing to red.

  As they approached the village, they could hear the sad growling moans of zombies in the nearby forest. Glancing at the dark collection of trees, Gameknight could see the decaying creatures gathering near the tree line. Those with leather caps stood out in the sunlight, their head-covering keeping them safe from the burning rays of the sun. Those without were hiding in the ever-darkening shade.

  “Are those real zombies?” Monkeypants asked, his voice filled with excitement.

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s go closer. I want to see them.”

  “This isn’t a game for these villagers, Dad. The zombies are going to try to break into the village and destroy everything. We need to do what we can to help them, and that means getting inside the village as quickly as we can.”

  Spurring their horses into a sprint, they headed straight for the wooden bridge that led into the village. When they neared, Gameknight jumped off and landed gracefully on the ground.

  “Monkeypants, go into the village!” Gameknight shouted as he ran toward the zombie mob. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “But what about—”

  “Just trust me and follow Hunter. I’ll be right behind you.”

  Not waiting to see if his father listened, Gameknight ran straight toward the tree line. Looking up, he smiled as the sparkling faces of stars emerged on the darkening sky. He stopped at a place he knew was still within range of the archer towers and pulled out blocks of TNT. He placed them on the ground in plain sight and spread them out across the battlefield. Running toward the bridge, he placed more of the striped blocks on the ground. As he crossed the wooden overpass, he placed four explosive blocks right in the middle and then ran for the iron doors. When he passed through the entrance, he looked for the person who he knew would be nearby—Stitcher. He found her on the top of the cobblestone wall. Her bow was likely tucked away in her inventory, her arms linked across her chest.

  “Stitcher, shoot the TNT if you need to drive the zombies back,” he yelled to her. “Destroy the bridge if you must. It would be better to rebuild it rather than let the monsters reach the doors.”

  He knew she wouldn’t respond, so he turned and sprinted for the cobblestone tower that stood at the center of the village. He found Hunter standing near the entrance, Monkeypants at her side. As soon as she saw him, she walked through the open doorway and moved into the building.

  “Come on, Monkeypants,” Gameknight said as he streaked past his father.

  Moving to the far side of the room, he pulled out his pickaxe and dug into the corner block. After three strong blows, the cobblestone shattered, revealing a dark vertical shaft, a ladder clinging to one wall. Without waiting, Hunter stepped onto the ladder and disappeared into the darkness.

  “Follow me,” Gameknight explained. “We’re heading for the crafting chamber. That must be where Crafter is.”

  Gameknight stepped onto the ladder and began his climb down. He could hear the footsteps of his father above him, though he could see little in the darkness of the tunnel. As he descended, Gameknight looked down and could see a faint circle of light in the distance—a torch marking the end of the vertical descent. Slowly, the tunnel grew brighter as he drew near the end. Jumping off the ladder, he found Hunter waiting for him, a look of annoye
d impatience on her face. Gesturing him to follow, she sprinted down the horizontal passage. After running a dozen blocks, she stopped and placed blocks of stone in front of her, closing off the tunnel ahead. She then turned and closed off the passage behind them, enclosing her and Gameknight in darkness and blocking out his father. Pulling out a torch, she placed it into the wall, then turned and faced her friend.

  “We need to talk quick,” she said in a low voice.

  Gameknight could hear the confused shouts of his father from the other side of the stone blocks, but ignored him.

  “What’s happening?” Gameknight asked.

  “As you have already guessed, the Council of Crafters have instituted the rule about users again,” Hunter explained. “NPCs cannot talk to users or use their hands when a user is around.”

  Gameknight nodded his head.

  “That’s not why we are here, is it?” he asked.

  “No. Crafter is sick … he’s dying.”

  “What?!” Gameknight exclaimed.

  “Something is attacking him, consuming his HP and slowly killing him. We’re able to keep him alive, but just barely. If the attacks continue, we fear he may not survive.”

  “What is it? Cave spider? The zombie-king?”

  “We don’t know,” she answered. “We’ve been calling it a shadow of evil. It moves across the surface of Minecraft like a dark shadow. When it finds Crafter, it attacks with mysterious jagged things that are shaped like swords, but appear to be made only of shadows … and evil. This thing has come back twice, and each time it has been able to find Crafter and take more of his HP. At first, healing potions helped him recover, but after the last attack, the potions seem to have less effect.” A worried look came over his friend’s face. “We can’t stop this thing and there seems to be no defense.”

  “Where is he? I have to go to him.”

  “He’s down in the crafting chamber,” she explained, “but I have to warn you, he’s very weak and barely conscious. I don’t know if he can talk, but just after the first attack, his last words were to bring you to him.”

  “Then what are we waiting for?”

  Pulling out his pickaxe, Gameknight broke the blocks filling the passage.

  “What’s going on? That was kind of rude closing off the tunnel right in front of me!” Monkeypants said.

  “Sorry,” Gameknight replied as he put away his pick, “but Hunter needed to tell me what is going on, and the NPCs aren’t allowed to talk with users or use their hands. If she were seen by anyone else, she would be kicked out of the village. NPCs that are expelled from their village and have to live out in the wild don’t last very long…. It’s a death sentence.”

  “So what is going on?” Monkeypants asked.

  “Crafter is sick and something in Minecraft is attacking him,” Gameknight explained as he turned and headed down the passage. “They don’t know what it is. It’s not a monster; it’s something within the fabric of Minecraft.”

  “That sounds serious,” his father said.

  “Everything in Minecraft is serious for NPCs,” Gameknight said as they reached the end of the passage and entered a large chamber, an iron door on the opposite wall.

  This was where Gameknight999 had met Crafter on his first adventure into Minecraft. He could still remember how his friend had looked back then, his old wrinkled face framed with long gray hair, a look of ancient wisdom within his bright blue eyes. After that first fateful battle with the monsters of the Overworld, Crafter and Gameknight had stopped the horde at the cost of their own lives. When Gameknight respawned on the next server, he’d kept his same appearance, but Crafter’s had changed from a body bent with age to that of a young boy, the same timeless wisdom still showing in his bright blue eyes.

  He’d been through many adventures with Crafter since then, the pair of them defeating monstrous hordes to save Minecraft again and again. Gameknight just couldn’t believe that his friend might be dying.

  What would I do without Crafter? he thought.

  “You OK?” Monkeypants asked.

  Gameknight looked up at his father and could see concern in his eyes.

  “Yeah…. I’m just scared for my friend. What if he dies? What if I can’t stop this thing that is attacking him? What if—”

  “Focus on the now,” his father interrupted, “not on the what if.”

  “You’re right.”

  Gameknight looked at his father and gave him a nervous smile, then turned and stood in front of the iron door. Drawing his diamond sword, he banged on the door with the hilt. The sound resonated like gigantic gongs, filling the room. Slowly, the doors swung open, revealing Herder on the other side. The young boy looked at Gameknight with worry in his eyes, his long black hair painted to the side of his blocky face.

  Reaching out, Gameknight placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder and stepped through the doors and into the crafting chamber. Instead of being greeted by the sounds of fifty NPCs crafting everything Minecraft needed, as he would usually hear, he heard thunderous silence. All of the NPCs in the crafting chamber were looking up at him, the same worried look that Herder had in his eyes was visible on every square face. These villagers were terrified for Crafter and expected Gameknight999 to save him… .

  But what if I can’t?

  Pushing away his doubts, he headed down the steps and into the crafting chamber.

  CHAPTER 4

  CRAFTER’S FATE

  NPCs stood throughout the large room, a crafting bench in front of each, but they could not craft while a user was amongst them. Each had their arms linked across their chests, but Gameknight could see the same fear he was feeling within the rectangular eyes of the NPCs. They were all scared for Crafter.

  As he sprinted down the steps, Gameknight could hear his father and Hunter following close behind. As they descended, Monkeypants fired question after question about the purpose of the chamber. He asked about all the minecart tracks that wove past the crafting benches, each disappearing into a dark tunnel. They could see weapons lying in minecarts as well as armor and arrows. Monkeypants asked if the NPCs were still preparing for war, but Gameknight’s only concern right then was Crafter.

  He ignored the questions, looking straight ahead toward the small room that had been carved into the stone wall of the chamber. A bed was placed in the room, with a chest and table nearby. Crafter lay motionless on the bright red sheets with Digger standing at his side. As he approached the room, Gameknight could hear the rumbling of TNT detonating far overhead; the zombies must be attacking.

  That wasn’t important right now—all that mattered was Crafter.

  He stepped into the room and looked down at his friend and was shocked at how pale his skin appeared. It was almost as white as a ghast. Reaching out, Gameknight tried to feel his head for a fever, but of course he couldn’t feel anything. He wasn’t in the game; he was just playing it as a user.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Monkeypants asked.

  “I don’t know.” Gameknight answered. “Do you think—”

  Before he could finish his question, Digger moved away from Crafter and gently pushed Monkeypants out of the room, leaving only Gameknight999 and Crafter. Quickly, someone filled in the entrance with cobblestone blocks, sealing Gameknight in the room with his infirmed companion. On the table, he noticed a bottle with a reddish liquid in it—a healing potion. Gameknight picked up the bottle, pulled out the stopper, and moved to Crafter’s side. He carefully lifted Crafter’s head and poured the liquid into his friend’s mouth. Instantly, the color of Crafter’s skin changed, fading from bone white to something closer to normal, but still pallid and sickly.

  Crafter coughed and slowly opened his eyes. Gameknight sat on the side of the bed and carefully placed his friend’s head in his lap. He looked down into his now dull blue eyes and knew that his face showed the fear that filled every fiber of his being.

  “Crafter, what’s going on?” Gameknight asked. “Nothing personal, but you look terr
ible.”

  “If it’s any consolation, I feel much worse than I look,” he said in a weak voice.

  Crafter managed to show a faint smile, then groaned as a shadow seemed to pass over him. When the dark stain touched Gameknight’s leg, he flashed red as he took damage, but he felt no pain. He wasn’t in the game, he was just an observer, a user out for fun. But this wasn’t true for Crafter, who was overcome with agony as the shadowy thing stabbed at him with dark, jagged shades of evil.

  Drawing his sword, Gameknight hacked at the dark stain, but his sword just bounced off the stone, doing little but chipping the ground and damaging his weapon. Casting his blade aside, Gameknight reached down and picked up his friend, holding his limp body high over his head. The evil darkness slashed at Gameknight as it tried to reach his friend, his own HP decreasing, but he didn’t care. He had to help his friend. When it realized it couldn’t hurt Crafter, the shadow of evil stopped its attack and moved to one corner of the enclosure. Gameknight felt sure the thing was examining him, inspecting its next prey, but then it slowly evaporated into nothing, the diseased evil blemish leaving behind untouched stone.

  Carefully, Gameknight set Crafter on the bed. The young NPC’s brow was creased in pain. Leaning down, Gameknight opened the chest and was glad to find it filled with healing potions. He pulled one out, then brought the glass bottle to Crafter’s lips and poured. The magenta liquid flowed into his mouth, and instantly, Gameknight could see his friend start to breathe easier.

  “They come about once every other day now,” Crafter mumbled, his voice weak. “But sometimes they are more frequent.”

  “Crafter, what’s they? What was that?”

  “It’s Herobrine.”

  “What?!”

  Crafter nodded his head.

  “I can tell by the feel of it,” Crafter explained. “Herobrine has somehow managed to let his evil hatred leak into the fabric of Minecraft. And now his evil can move like that shadow across the landscape to strike out at people.” He coughed, then took a strained breath. “They are calling that thing a shadow of evil, because that is what it feels like to all the NPCs. None of the other villagers believe me, but I know that it’s Herobrine.”