Chapter 8: Flight
Chapter 8: Flight
I take back every nice thing I said about this place. Every. Single. Thing.
AND GET THESE MONSTERS AWAY FROM ME!
Now that I got that out of the way, onto the next piece of my chronicle.
I awoke in my chamber about an hour after dawn. I guessed it was an hour after dawn; I was not certain how to accurately measure time in this world. Other than having my body’s own internal clock thrown off balance, I felt well. I, fortunately, rested without dreams to plague my thoughts, be they good or ill. I needed the rest to calm my thoughts.
One of the lurking doubts I had before I settled myself in last night was that I would panic when I woke up the following morning. I would believe that last night’s experiences and trials were naught but a deluded concoction of my unconscious mind, abruptly revealed to be all-too real with a few moments of examination.
That was not the case. I awoke from my slumber with all my faculties intact. I was calm. I accepted my situation as reality without any noticeable error. I did not like what happened, but I was at peace with myself.
I had a lingering doubt that my calm state of mind would not last, that it was a product of pieces of my mind still shaking off the vestiges of unconsciousness. Even if that was the case, I had work to do. Since I was away from my supplies, I needed to catalog what I had.
I made short work of it; the motions were one of my routines. I had 126 blocks of cobblestone, 64 blocks of wood, 20 sticks, a worn set of flint and steel, 2 iron pickaxes, an iron shovel, an iron axe, a bucket, a workbench, a furnace, 15 lumps of coal, 20 torches, a bow, 25 arrows, 16 iron ingots, 25 blocks of unrefined iron ore, 4 blocks of unrefined gold ore, 12 loaves of bread, a single Potion of Swiftness, and a single Ender Pearl.
I’ve survived on less before. On the other hand, I had not faced such tenacious beasts like last night, either. My skills would be put to the test, stressed to their limit no matter the outcome. I needed to pay special attention to my surroundings. Only one more Pearl to spare. Only one chance to get out of death free. No more fear. Danger could be in every shadow. I must be strong, I must refuse to show fear like last night.
I quickly dug myself out of my makeshift sanctuary, stepped into the light of the forest morning. Due to the thick canopy, there wasn’t much light to guide myself, but it was plentiful compared to last night. I stretched my limbs to their limit and turned around, ready to examine my new surroundings in greater detail...
...And found myself face-to-ugly-face with a green scaled creature 50 times my size and growling with a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth.
Well... shit.
I immediately conjured my bow and fired an arrow, which harmlessly ricocheted off of its scaly hide. The creature looked surprised. Not that something attacked it, but something smaller had the gall to attack it. I did the only rational thing I could have done in that situation; turn tail and run like a coward.
The beast roared in fury and followed, not only keeping pace, but catching up in a few, brief strides. That’s not to say I was particularly slow; running from creepers for several millennia builds stamina. I am no doubt a swift sprinter, but the sheer size and girth of the beast made overtaking me an easy chore.
I flailed wildly as I was picked up in a large, scaly hand. The beast held me close to its snout, examining me like some bug under observation. My mind flashed back to the winged beast last night. It was shrewd, wily even. This creature, however, felt animalistic and primal. I detected an intelligence in its manner of movement, but it was, first and foremost, a creature of instinct.
I acted fast. One hand was pinned between myself and the creature’s scales, but my other was free. I conjured my pickaxe and, with a mighty heave, brought it down on the creature’s hand. I didn’t even scratch the scale, but the shock of the blow made it emit a cry of pain and open its palm.
I landed on my feet and started running for all I was worth. I knew I was fast, but the beast was far too large to fight on my own. I did not have the armor or resources to even contemplate how to vanquish such an intimidating foe. My only hope at that time was to flee deeper into the forest to the larger trees, praying all the while it could not maneuver so well in closer quarters.
The beast’s pain was inconsequential with its bulk, so it recovered swiftly. I had not gained much ground, only fifteen feet at best. I raced to the trees with every ounce of strength I could muster. I could always drink my last potion and flee, but I needed to hold out. These beasts were far more deadly than any I had ever faced. Their will, wiles, and strength matched or even surpassed my own. If I was not careful and partition my resources accordingly, I could easily end up dead. I felt a powerful need to use my potion or the pearl, but I couldn’t. Not yet. I must wait for the last possible moment.
The beast moved with haste now that I attacked it twice and escaped an equal many times. I heard the crashing of brush and trees and deep, guttural cries of anger as it pursued me. I could keep running, but the odds were not in my favor. I did not know this forest or the creatures inhabiting it. I was stumbling blind through every instance, every obstacle I encountered so far. What I needed to do was stop running scared.
I needed to fight back.
A plan formed in my head. I was smaller than this creature. It underestimated me once. It might do so again. I wanted to put that to the test.
Coming upon a particularly large tree, I replaced my pickaxe with my regular wood axe. I waited for the right moment and jump, using my axe’s magic to cut two chunks of wood out of the tree; just enough for me to squeeze through. If I could not shake the creature, I could make the path as difficult as possible to traverse. I jumped through the hole and immediately heard a large, splintering crash.
Taking a quick peek, I was rather stunned to find physics not working the way I expected them to once again. The sections of the tree I did not cut down did not remain stationary like they do in the Overworld, but had sunk to fill the void I created. The splintering had come into play when the tree started listing to far to the side and crashed down on the beast.
Well... that wasn’t supposed to happen. Not that I was complaining, of course.
The reptile groaned and started to come to, shaking its head to clear the daze my unintended blow inflicted. I did not wish to waste my newfound head-start on the beast, so I promptly performed the only rational thing I could have done: chop down another tree and make sure it falls on the beast.
I selected another one, this time with more girth to hopefully increase the creature’s recovery time enough for me to escape. After a few swings of my axe, the magic took effect. My axe embedded itself in the tree, converting the dense wood to energy for me to absorb. The bulky trunk crashed down to fill the void. The tree was listing dangerously, but I felt confident I could direct its fall. Gritting my teeth in effort, I pushed against the tree with all my might. My feet started to slide in the dirt, ripping through the tiny roots of grass that gave me traction in the first place.
I stumbled, but got right back up again. The beast was conscious and had its eyes on me once again. The creature would not be able to react, however; I had succeeded in tipping the tree in the proper direction. The massive oak came crashing down on the beast, causing it to issue another cry of pain and protest.
It lashed at the trees pinning its body to the ground. The smaller one rolled off with a little struggle on its part, but the larger and more recent tree proved to be more difficult to remove.
I did not overstay my welcome any more than necessary. As soon as I confirmed the beast was occupied, I continued my trek away from the beast.
...And straight into another one one hundred meters away. For having just defeated an impressively large creature, one far larger than I had ever seen, I was not willing to press my luck with any more duels or excitement.
A beast jumped out of the brush with surprising agility considering its bulk, which I barely had the time to dive out of the way to avoid. While the scaly beast was swift, that was only due to its immense size. The other beast’s muscles were taut and lean, preferring speed over raw power. It’s bone and musculature were oddly feline, but instead of a furred tail, it had an armored tail that ended with a barb.
The creature growled and swiped at me with a clawed paw that I narrowly avoided. The creature’s tail whistled through the air, the bard dripping with a clear, viscous liquid. I was reminded of the venom I would see dripping from the maws of the cave spiders. It was something that was prudent to avoid, then.
I ducked under the stinger and it crashed into a tree instead. The barb was wedged in deep; I wanted to keep it there. I conjured up some wood and placed it around the creature’s tail, locking it in place. It might force it out soon, but it would buy just enough time to escape.
The creature roared when it realized it could not escape my makeshift trap and swiped its clawed paw at me. I jumped over the attack and it left deep gouges in another one of the trees. I wasn’t going to press my luck and fight the beast.
I was running for a good three minutes before I accidentally kicked a chicken.
That sentence looks weird now that I look at it.
It gave a squawk of indignation and... slithered toward me.
Huh. Also weird.
It was a tiny creature with the head of a chicken a body similar in build to the scaled creature, only on a much smaller scale. The chicken was glaring at me... somehow, but it was far too small to be a real threat. I wished to keep my pace brisk, but my legs refused to work properly. I looked down and gasped. They were stone!
My left arm soon followed the same curse, turning a shade of gray and refusing to move. It was a fantastic notion, but I could not deny what was happening to me. I was being turned into stone.
Oh, you little cheater.
The chicken was my third consecutive monster in five minutes and I was sick of that crap. I swung my arm at the chicken in a wide arc. It was too far away to punch, so I conjured a shovel mid-swing and smacked it right in the head. It shouted a surprised squawk and fell on its side, unconscious. Without its caster to command the spell, the stone receded and my limbs returned to my control.
I’m going to break away from my recount for a moment, but come on! Is there anything on this planet not trying to kill me!?
I had enough of the monsters. I was sick and tired of being attacked all the damned time. Leaving the chicken where it lay, I started running once more before the ground collapsed underneath me feet.
Fate must have hated me. I hated it in return.
I landed in a crouch in a stone tunnel while dust and debris fell around me. It wasn’t that far of a drop, so once the debris halted, I lifted my head to survey my new environment. I was in a tunnel that extended deeper underground. I saw light leaking into the tunnel from above, but I was more than hesitant to return. What kind of hellhole was that place? What I didn’t accidentally stumble on that wanted to kill me was seeking me out to kill me.
And the allure of tunneling once more was indeed great. I felt at home under the moist ground and cold tunnels, digging for ore and diamonds. I’d swing my axe from side to side, not minding the grueling task and doing it for the sheer pleasure of it alone. That happened often: I would dig even if I didn’t need the ore.
It was settled. I would proceed underground.
I conjured a torch in one hand and set a course for the dark. There was nothing of interest for the longest time save for a scent becoming stronger and stronger I ventured deeper. It was dry and musty, almost stale, and mixed with the faint scent of moisture. I was still close to the surface, so I didn’t think much of it.
The contour of the tunnels, however, were of great interest to me. They were not structure with cubes, but with the same curves and contorted lines. The tunnel proceeded at a low downward grade and I started to see odd stone formations. They resembled sharp teeth, with one pointing up and another pointing downward directly at its twin. Odd indeed.
What struck me as even more peculiar was that, despite such an extensive tunnel, I did not see any coal. Coal was quite common at such a shallow depth. I couldn’t be more than five meters below the surface, but perhaps the different physics had something to do with it. Everything else operated on a different set of rules, so I do not see why ore should appear at depths consistent with the Overworld.
Stupid moon. No, I’m not over that.
At a depth of seven or eight meters, the tunnel widden and split into three paths. Wanting to not lose track of my path, I placed my torch in the dirt and conjured another. I took a step, and immediately stopped myself. So far, the beasts were intelligent enough to track me over large distances. If, by chance, my path could be tracked into the underground, I did not wish to help their hunt. Begrudgingly, I put my torch away and picked up the other one. I would just need to know my path by memory.
I have a terrible memory, so any mental exercise should be interesting.
The central pathway I had taken continued to grow wider and wider, as did that dry, dusty smell. Dust followed me in a fine cloud wherever I traveled, disturbed after a long and fitless rest. I could not tell for sure how long the caverns were unoccupied; there was always the chance that they were filled at some point. There was no way to know without more information pertaining to that new world. There could have been something behind me at that very moment for all I knew, quietly judging my every move.
I do not need the paranoia. Shut up brain.
The tunnel kept on widening, soon becoming a spacious ten meters in width. I had still not detected any signs of habitation. No lights, no sounds from the void, no marks on the ground. I was alone, and that time I wanted it to stay that way.
I progressed further still. The wall to my left opened up to a massive chamber, one so large I could not even fathom how far away the other side could be. I felt the faint compulsion to explore the dark, to light up the chamber with torches and decorate the walls with paintings and intricate patterns of stone and wood. I could create a massive structure to occupy the entire chamber composed entirely of the strong and healthy wood from the trees of the forest above.
But despite my longing to build, I knew in my heart that I could not. I needed sanctuary, and a permanent one for that matter, to fall back on. It needed to be sealed away from the monsters and madness above, away from the tall and regal sovereign, away from the cunning and deadly warrior.
Away from the Nether Portal, the last remnant of my home.
I needed to toughen myself. I needed to believe, not in my head, but my heart, that I would not be returning to the Overworld if I was to survive.
Could I? Maybe. I may yet in time. But while wandering those caves, I could not afford the luxury of hope. I needed to survive before I could hope. Hope would come later. I needed to steel myself.
I could not return home. I could not enjoy short days of mining and building. I could not rest easy at dusk, having neutralized the creatures stalking the night. I could not tame the beasts to provide my needs. I could not walk with faith that I could defend myself against any threat.
The world was a strange place that needed to be understood. After I build a last line of defense, I must study the beasts of the land and discover their ways. In time.
Oh crap, something found me.
I did not immediately notice the light coming toward me from the mammoth cavern. It was flying through the air on a direct course to me. With me holding the only other light source in the dark, pinpointing my location proved to be an easy feat. I set my torch on the ground and conjured my pickaxe, preparing to meet my next obstacle. Soon enough, the creature wielding the light came into focus.
The creature appeared to be a hybrid of the flying creature, and the grounded creatures I saw in town upon arrival to this world. It possessed the same basic musculature as all the other creatures, but where it differed was the wings. I’ve only seen two creatures with wings up close, the soldier and the sovereign. This creature was too small to be a kin to the sovereign, but it didn’t have the leathery wings of the soldier, either. The creature’s fur and feathers were all a bright white where it wasn’t covered by burnished gold armor with an accompanying helmet marked with three horizontal bars. It was quite similar to the soldier at the waterfall in terms of design.
I saw what was blinding me next: the creature wore atop its helmet a crown inset with a single glowing red gemstone that illuminated everything in twenty feet of the creature. Putting a hand to block out the direct light, I glanced at the creature’s face.
I stumbled back in terror. I didn’t know what I was looking. It couldn’t have been a real creature; nothing could contain the amount of misery and rage painted on that creature’s face. Pain, hatred, bloodlust, wrath, anger, revenge, loneliness, sadism; the creature locked eyes with me with enough horror to fulfill a thousand lifetimes. Its eyes held evil, its smile forged from pure, unrelenting malevolence. There was something... wrong with what I was seeing. That level of desire to inflict unrepentant torment could not be contained in the body of any mere mortal. It was not right. It was not natural. It was not a beast or creature as I understand them, it was a monster. It was an abomination born of sorrow, not blood and bone.
I was scared for my life. Every single fiber of my being screamed to run, but, alas, I could not. It was not like being back in the Darkness when I left the Overworld where some external stimuli prevented me from fleeing. No, it was pure, undiluted fear. I was too frightened to stay in this creature’s presence, but I could not muster the mental faculties to use my legs properly.
The monster folded its wings and landed in the tunnel. Without my hand blocking the light of its gem, I could no longer see its face. If I was to die, that would have been preferable; I did not want to gaze at the monster any longer than I must. I heard its hooves clopping as it drew closer. In the empty tunnels and gaping void only right in front of me, the sound was thunder in my ears. It matched my rapid pants and frantic heartbeat in a perverse rythme.
The monster tapped its gemstone crown twice and the light dimmed. The creature walked to a pace in front of me, but made no further movements. I was watching the ground, determined to not look back at the monster and see its terrifying visage.
I was going to die. No more acts of kindness to aid me. No--
NO!
No more whimpering Crafter. No more sniveling in fear. I had dealt with the monsters above, I could fight the monsters below. I have killed Endermen. I have tamed an entire world, shaping it to my will and desires. I’ve built empires and destroyed them, all with my own hands.
I would not fall so easily to the creature.
I conjured my bow and knocked an arrow in one deft movement. My aim was shaking horribly; I was more likely to fire a shot into the empty cavern behind the monster than at it.
The creature held a surprised but serene smile. Gone was the murderous desire and, in its place, the creature held the look of calm curiosity. Then, out of nowhere, the monster’s smile widened, it waved a hoof in greetings, and it turned around.
I was stunned. My arms were still shaking too bad to deliver a clean shot and the flickering light of my fallen torch proved to be less and less useful as it walked off, but I could have had at least tried to fire. Why did it walk away? Why did it spread its wings and fly off into the darkness, leaving a crying and trembling Crafter? Why come at all? What happened? What was that thing?
In short, why was I alive?
I counted to 100 before I finally lowered my bow. My muscles ached at holding the string’s tension for such an extended period of time. I shook it off; I needed to leave that place on the off chance that thing decided to return.
Instead of proceeding down the tunnel as I had before, I decided a more direct route was in order. Storing my bow, I picked up my torch and conjured my pickaxe. I was going to dig my way out.
I started swinging away at the wall of the tunnel, my pickaxe’s magic converting bits and pieces of stone into energy. I did not want to replace the smooth stone wall with cobblestone; that would be easily noticeable and I was tired of being one step behind these beasts. However, even though I had the materials necessary to create smooth stone, my recent experience with the monster in gold armor made the decision to flee a far more appealing option. I sealed the opening with cobblestone, but I would need to return eventually to perfect the subterfuge.
I kept on digging a horizontal pathway through the stone and earth, but it was not exclusively so. I encountered several mineral veins containing materials I had never seen before in my life. I discovered dozens, if not hundreds, of gemstones perfectly cut and ready to be mined, all just set in stone and waiting for me to take them.
Just how many types of stones where there, I did not know. I saw red ones, green ones, blue, white, violet; for any color I had ever seen, for every color under the sun, I discovered a gemstone matching its hue. Not a single one bore a flaw and it was a marvel to behold. Each discovery forced me to bring it up to the light of my torch for analysis, and each time I discovered no flaw and stored it away. I was not sure what I could use such stones for, but with a little experimenting, I could find a use like I had found for diamonds.
Speaking of, I was absolutely giddy with excitement over the sheer number of diamonds I was unearthing. I had accumulated hundreds of unidentified gemstones, and several of them were diamonds. I could create many good tools and armor out of diamond. After only twenty minutes of digging (and gem staring, to my embarrassment), I had uncovered fifteen diamonds. I could finally create a good sword to replace the one I lost.
My tunneling came to an end after my pick opened up a cavern thick with the scent of dust and stale air. I was only two meters above the closest stable platform, so I jumped down, held up my torch, and examined my surroundings once again.
At about 20 meters tall, 70 meters wide, and 100 across, it was quite the spacious cavern. The wall were lined with various ores and gemstones I did not recognize, along with a few veins of diamond ore. That got me excited; I was still not used to seeing diamonds this close to the surface. The light of my torch reflected off most of the gemstones, scattering its flickering glow to the farthest reaches of the cavern. It was quite the enchanting sight to see and gave me ideas for future lighting methods.
The terrain was rugged and difficult to navigate, filled with jagged rocks and a few precipices reaching deeper into the earth. The holes could be filled easily enough; all I needed to do was seal the cracks with cobblestone. The stone outcroppings would need to be cleared, but that was easy.
Deep under the ground, I began working once again, this time to build a home away from home.
Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
Chapter Commentary: LINK
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Edited by: Wolfmaster1337, Material Defender, Cor Thunder, Deathscar
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cool continue like this with steve
I'm going to take a wild guess and say that that wasn't a normal pegasus. Either that or the Crafter was suffering from temporary insanity.
Diggy diggy hole. Diggy diggy hole. Hehe.
GLORY UPDATE!!!
SO MUCH THINGS TRYING TO KILL OUR DEAR CRAFTER!!!!!
WTF PONY IS THAT!!!!!!
WHY AM I USING CAP LOCKS!!!!
Oh, right. UPDATE!!!!!
AWESOME CHAPTER!!!!
The description don't fit for a regular royal guard. I first thought it was Luna but she isn't white. it can't be Shining armor cause he don't have any wings. the best guess would be Celestia because of the crown and the wings but her horn and mane was not mentioned. so which pony it was I have no freaking idea.
1123168
It's too small to be Luna's size, but does not have the bat wings of the Night Guard, the only other type of pegasus he's seen. That narrows it down to a pegasus of standard size and most definately not Celestia.
There are only two types of ponies in the show that wear burnished gold armor, Celestia and the Royal Guard. Since Celstia is ruled out, that only leaves the latter.
1123258 sorry, missed that one. so it was a royal guard eh. interesting.
Okay, so he's finally taking the survival-oriented route.
On the other hand, it's great to see him finding all those diamonds... especially since they're far more common than coal in Equestria. And those other gemstones will certainly be useful.
1123266
Harmless mistake. Now can you guess which member of the Royal Guard? I left a clue in that paragraph.
1123273
Yeah, he finally figured out that he'd have a better chance of surviving if he returned to his element. Unless Gozer is in there somewhere.
1123289 hum, it can't be Shining, he wears purple armor. is it a fan made character or one from the show.
"All the diamonds."
wait till he finds out that all those gems are diamonds
I like this story a lot more from Steve's perspective.
Ok. I have something to tell you, The Journeyman.
Ebony Eilis is in the hospital, so she cannot preread/edit At The End. I am her closest brony friend, so could I take over for her while she's out?
CADENCE! ITS CADENCE!
1123712 Candance dosn't wear armor and is not white.
Awesome story, glad to see Steve getting so many diamonds, also looking forward to him experimenting with the new items he has at his disposal.
And just to make sure you know this, awesome story.
1123529 Nope.
1123336
Well I can't give too many clues. It would spoil the surprise.
1123529
While that would be a miner's wet dream, I don't intend for that to happen. There are more gems than diamonds in Equestria.
1123932
I think you fail to get the joke.
1123663
My best regards to Ebony. I hope she feels well.
If you wish to be an editor, I am always accepting.
So who might that be?
Is it a Changeling, perhaps?
Also, poor Steve?. Everything trying to kill him.
1127025 Alrighty, then. Send me the pre-completed chapter when finished
wait... I just realized something, ponies dont have hate or destruction in their hearts... HEROBRINE ?!!!!!
1131068
Who or whatever is responsible, let's just say there is more than gemstones and Diamond Dogs lurking in the darkness...
1131136 what, like zombies, creepers, Herobrine, skeletons and giant spiders ?
Make sure to include herobrine
My bits are on changeling
Beautiful. Just, Beautiful.....
*widen
What I find so odd about this, is that Crafter is surprisingly childish. Most beings of such age have reached a pinnacle of maturity and wisdom. It's unsettling to see him flip between philosophic meanderings to immature rambling cries at the sight of an unknown. I imagine the sight of a new world would upset him, but if seeing physics actually function, I'm speaking of the falling trees, is having little to no effect, then why do new creatures baffle him so? He has lived for Eons, built and sculpted a world with nothing more than the edge of his hand. He holds the power of a god, yet his control and mental faculties disintegrate into a fine powder the moment he is confronted by a technicolor equine. He has faced the undead and countless abominations for untold millenia, and more recently a dragon, manticore, and cockatrice, yet two different pegasi on separate occasions chill his heart and break his resolve? This confuses me greatly.
Society of Syntax Socialists,
-Onyx
Gotta say this chapter read far differently to the previous "Steve's Log" chapters. Swearing, less description, and the use of feet instead of metres for measurement as examples.
Nitpicking, maybe, but just thought to mention for the simple sake of mentioning.
2142755
I beg to differ on descriptions. Recall he's had time to examine his surroundings before, but not now. Yes, I could go into descriptions more, but that would clash with the context. He is under constant attack until he gets underground. If I kept going into detail, I have to slow down. An action scene has a faster and more frenetic pacing. When he's trying to not die, he's not going to take in his surroundings as freely as before. It's not because descriptions were lacking, it was because I was trying to set a mood.
Swearing is minimal and kept to extreme circumstances, just like in previous chapters: when he thinks he's in imminent danger:
He thought he was going to be attacked, which is just cause for a single swear. I've sen live footage of soldiers under fire, and you should hear what comes out of their mouth. When he was in town, all he did was run when stuff started happening. 2nd Lt. Chaser's attack caught him off guard and was his first experience with hostile threats where he was forced to fight. That set the context for future chapters on the deadly nature of the new world. The creatures in Equestria are smarter, faster, and stronger than creatures in the Overworld.
Lightning's attack and narrow escape set a dread in his mind. If creatures of the world are that strong and deadly, it's just cause for panic. The mere thought of another fight is enough to run away in the other direction. No, swearing is not going to help, but it's marginally cathartic and therapeutic, helping people get a grasp on their emotions. He doesn't swear often, but when he does, it's because he's afraid.
But yes, I did mess up on the feet part. My bad.
Am I the only one that thinks the "chicken" being hit with a shovel is a SlyFoxHound reference?
2214877
I'm tempted to play it now, but no, it's not.
cdn.broni.es/images/emotes/tommy.png
Kicking a cockatrice; slightly less dangerous than kicking a cucco
Is that a slyfoxhound reference in there?!
"When you see a chicken you got to hit him with a shovel! Hit that chicken with a shovel, shovel! Hit that chicken with a shovel, shovel!"
Sorry Fluttershy. :(
Is he going to run into the Diamond Dogs? They, Rarity and Spike are the only featured miners in Equestria (and Pinkie's parents based on interpretation). It would he a shame not to include an underground race in this story.
Hmm. Kinda reminiscent of Castleminer Z, with the human protagonist, blocky world, and being able to store and conjure blocks of material. Minus the guns, of course.
Nice read, by the way. Gonna try to finish this within the week.
2862207
Thanks for the praise!
I know of this Castleminer Z. From what I know, it was meant to be a Minecraft clone. Haven't played it myself, but I am an avid fan of Minecraft itself.
Anyway, glad you're satisfied with the story. Even if you do finish, I have a massive 15,000+ word chapter coming very soon.
Considering the geometry of where he came from, would "world" be a much more natural word for him than "planet"?
that would be me
SONG OF STORMS! I forget which chapter I grabbed that quote from...
Gemstore? Golden armor? um...a mystery pony. man...i have to re-read again.
At first I thought that was a random guard, then I thought Celestia, and then I thought Chrysalis due to all the anger and like... but now I have zero idea who the Crafter just encountered
I admit, I wasn't sold on this story at first. The amount of ridiculous verbosity and exposition within the paragraphs themselves turned me off of it for quite some time. Especially Steve in chapter 2, holy cow, the amount of time he spent describing that Enderman's eyes...
BUT, as I've continued I'm glad to report that, while the verbosity is still there, it's no longer quite as prominent. The pacing is steadily improving and I am quite interested to see what happens.
Also I haven't the foggiest idea what Steve just ran into. I mean, what.
-GM, master of Sweeties.
The way he act
exactly how I play,
only more runningIs that a SlyFox reference!?