Chapter One

The Threat

Santar awoke from his long slumber to a large crowd in town square. Unsure of the predicament, he squeezed into his dark leather shirt and stained jeans to go and see. Large groups of petrified villagers stood by a hovering figure.

“I am Stonebrine,” The figure started, “And I am here to warn you that if you do not hand over your village, and your lives, you are to be eternally punished by my master, Herobrine, and tortured until we kill you ourselves! You have a week to build a sacrificial altar for me so I can final-“Enough!” Our priest yelled “Your evil is not welcome here!” Stonebrine answers back, “Who is to stop me, as Herobrine has already slain your precious hero Steve!

Santar gasped, as he had heard legend after legend of Steve, that he was the first warrior ever in Minecraftia, And that he had defended their world from Herobrine’s many dangers.

Knowing what to do, Santar ran to his house and grabbed supplies for a journey, to a village east of his to warn them of the impending threat. He grabbed his stone sword and a ranged contraption he made, which he called a crossbow. It was like a bow, yet attached to a stick and with the handle of a sword. He grabbed his leather satchel and the three emeralds that he stored in case his sword broke.

Not owning a horse, Santar knows that his journey will take three days on foot, so he MUST pack rations. Ugh, I might not have enough food. He thought, although this was no keen timing for a trip to the shopping district.

He raided his pantry for the pleasure of unspoiled food, but took what he could find. Soon the time was nigh and he must begin, and return from his journey before the weeks end. Stonebrine was still giving her speech as he slipped through the village silently.

Santar took a long hard look at his village and ran into the deep, threatening wilderness. A few hours later, he stopped to camp out by a dark oak tree. Santar took a moment to enjoy the forest, its deep lush bushes and intoxicating smell.

He noticed that the sun was dropping from its peak and night fall would be coming soon. He began to climb a tree in hopes that no hostile mobs would come for him. Then, out of the blue a strange man clad in leather armor yelled to him, “You! Turn back now, you are entering the undead woods.” “I… I can handle myself” Santar replied tensely.

Santar knew he had no time to waste and jumped from tree to tree through the canopy hastily, the rough wood sometimes scratching his ankles and arms.

But, after jumping to a tree, the branch supporting him snapped under his feet sending him plummeting down into the underbrush. Santar heard a snap, like one of a broken bone, but he felt no pain. He looked under him to find a dismantled skeleton on the ground, with a few arrows beside it.

Seizing the opportunity, he snatched them off the ground, loaded one into his crossbow and attached the rest to his belt.

A spine tingling moan sounded behind Santar, as he glanced behind himself he saw a shape that he knew could only be a zombie. It was still fairly far from him, but he didn’t want to take any chances. He took his crossbow and pulled the trigger, unlocking a mechanism which held back the string and arrow, launching it into the walking piece of rotten flesh’s head.

Before he could walk away, Santar saw a sparkling piece of iron in its pocket. Eagerly, yet carefully he walked toward the corpse and grabbed it from the tight pocket it was held in. Feeling a tingle of joy, Santar began to get back on his way.