Hello everyone, I wanted to create something for the spooky season, so I started creating a short story based on a certain creature coming up next summer. Hopefully you enjoy this and ask for part 2!
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You have heard of many of the darkest stories told within these old mines, brethren. You’ve heard of the terrors upon our kind that the desolate dragon cast upon us. You’ve heard of the slaughters that were caused by the tampering with life and death itself. And of course, you have heard the stories about him, the one who has remained cloaked in the shadows themselves. But tonight, I tell you a tale like no other, one that is much more intense than these simple stories. It started back in a place that no one mentioned or even remembered its name. Mostly because they thought that uttering the very name of it would summon the terror that slaid most of the occupants there. It was a dark little town, smack dab in the middle of a dense forest. The people there lived off of lumberjacking and mining in order to make places for their crops. It was a peaceful place and life for these folk. But lurking way below was a terror that would make this little town disappear off the map permanently. This, my friends, is the story of the War at the Den. The horror story that tells of the fearsome creature who lived in this den, that reached so far down in the darkest depths of the Overworld you would have thought it would have come from the Nether itself. The common folk always summarized the story with three simple phrases: “It knows every step you take. It hears you when you breathe. Beware the coming of the Warden.”
A group of children charged across the green grass of the forest, looking for a suitable clearing for a picnic. The overhead canopy dangerously shaded the small party, but it was not dark enough for the average monsters that they were warned about, the ones that the warriors fended off on the night watch with relative ease. The little ones had not but a care in the world as they leaped over fallen trees, ducked under leafy overhangs for a brief matter of seconds, and dashed with reckless abandon through small canyons that would entrap a golem for a matter of weeks. Soon, the small troupe halted and set up things for their outing. The eldest ones set up the small bundles of food that were brought from the village on alternating patterns of carpet while the smaller ones frolicked nearby, taking notice to a couple of wild foxes and squealing in delight at the reveal of a small pup.
However, a small little girl named Emily started wandering farther from the lovely scene as she followed a wandering bee. She was always fascinated by the small creatures, and picked flowers as she bumbled around with the flyer. Many said that she was more of a person to wander first before worrying about where she was. She usually had a person who would follow close behind her to keep her out of trouble, but no such luck happened today. And as Emily walked away from the troupe, she got closer and closer to a large den, overgrown with moss and vines on the outside, so wild it seemed as if Notch himself made it. The bee flew off, and before Emily could follow after it, she heard wails of agony sound from within the mouth of the cave. They continued to increase in number, the twang of crossbows filling the air and the roar of a creature that sounded out as if it came from a nightmare. And almost as soon as it began, the wails and sounds of battle stopped. Curious as ever, Emily went inside the cave, tiptoeing as if she were getting into the village cookie pot like so many times before. She went deeper and deeper, passing the dripstone formations on either side of her with almost no attention to them as she progressed. The sounds of water dripping from the rock formations was the only sound besides the soft clicks of the iron heeled shoes. Emily continued downward, not paying attention to how far she came from the entrance. She continued into a large cavern with crystals that lit up a scene worthy of a crime. Emily saw a bunch of figures who looked as if they were asleep with spoils of war and various weapons spilled on the floor around them. Within a few minutes, she came across a torn banner on the ground, and she lifted it up into the light. If Emily were educated in the banners created by the races of the Overworld, she would have known that she was holding the remains of an Illager patrol banner, glimmering and ripped even in ruin in the small lights emitted by the underground crystals. Emily stepped backward very slowly to admire the banner she was holding and accidentally stepped on a fallen crossbow that shot off a single bolt that embedded itself into an iron lined shield with a loud thud. Startled, Emily sat down with a small cry of alarm. Suddenly, the cavern grew darker exponentially, and the soft, slow rhythmic pattern of heavy footsteps filled the air. A soft moan filled the air that made Emily hurriedly get up and glance around her. A gold bar from one of the bundles that the raiders had possessed fell down and hit the floor with a resounding clang on the cold stone floor. Another moan emitted from down the corridor, and Emily turned towards it to shockingly see something that she had never seen before. She made the mistake of screaming. The roar that followed seemed to shake the very cave itself, and Emily closed her eyes as the thing charged forth with gigantic arms outstretched. And the party on the surface never heard any commotion whatsoever, too far from the mouth of the cave to hear the fate of young Emily.
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You have heard of many of the darkest stories told within these old mines, brethren. You’ve heard of the terrors upon our kind that the desolate dragon cast upon us. You’ve heard of the slaughters that were caused by the tampering with life and death itself. And of course, you have heard the stories about him, the one who has remained cloaked in the shadows themselves. But tonight, I tell you a tale like no other, one that is much more intense than these simple stories. It started back in a place that no one mentioned or even remembered its name. Mostly because they thought that uttering the very name of it would summon the terror that slaid most of the occupants there. It was a dark little town, smack dab in the middle of a dense forest. The people there lived off of lumberjacking and mining in order to make places for their crops. It was a peaceful place and life for these folk. But lurking way below was a terror that would make this little town disappear off the map permanently. This, my friends, is the story of the War at the Den. The horror story that tells of the fearsome creature who lived in this den, that reached so far down in the darkest depths of the Overworld you would have thought it would have come from the Nether itself. The common folk always summarized the story with three simple phrases: “It knows every step you take. It hears you when you breathe. Beware the coming of the Warden.”
A group of children charged across the green grass of the forest, looking for a suitable clearing for a picnic. The overhead canopy dangerously shaded the small party, but it was not dark enough for the average monsters that they were warned about, the ones that the warriors fended off on the night watch with relative ease. The little ones had not but a care in the world as they leaped over fallen trees, ducked under leafy overhangs for a brief matter of seconds, and dashed with reckless abandon through small canyons that would entrap a golem for a matter of weeks. Soon, the small troupe halted and set up things for their outing. The eldest ones set up the small bundles of food that were brought from the village on alternating patterns of carpet while the smaller ones frolicked nearby, taking notice to a couple of wild foxes and squealing in delight at the reveal of a small pup.
However, a small little girl named Emily started wandering farther from the lovely scene as she followed a wandering bee. She was always fascinated by the small creatures, and picked flowers as she bumbled around with the flyer. Many said that she was more of a person to wander first before worrying about where she was. She usually had a person who would follow close behind her to keep her out of trouble, but no such luck happened today. And as Emily walked away from the troupe, she got closer and closer to a large den, overgrown with moss and vines on the outside, so wild it seemed as if Notch himself made it. The bee flew off, and before Emily could follow after it, she heard wails of agony sound from within the mouth of the cave. They continued to increase in number, the twang of crossbows filling the air and the roar of a creature that sounded out as if it came from a nightmare. And almost as soon as it began, the wails and sounds of battle stopped. Curious as ever, Emily went inside the cave, tiptoeing as if she were getting into the village cookie pot like so many times before. She went deeper and deeper, passing the dripstone formations on either side of her with almost no attention to them as she progressed. The sounds of water dripping from the rock formations was the only sound besides the soft clicks of the iron heeled shoes. Emily continued downward, not paying attention to how far she came from the entrance. She continued into a large cavern with crystals that lit up a scene worthy of a crime. Emily saw a bunch of figures who looked as if they were asleep with spoils of war and various weapons spilled on the floor around them. Within a few minutes, she came across a torn banner on the ground, and she lifted it up into the light. If Emily were educated in the banners created by the races of the Overworld, she would have known that she was holding the remains of an Illager patrol banner, glimmering and ripped even in ruin in the small lights emitted by the underground crystals. Emily stepped backward very slowly to admire the banner she was holding and accidentally stepped on a fallen crossbow that shot off a single bolt that embedded itself into an iron lined shield with a loud thud. Startled, Emily sat down with a small cry of alarm. Suddenly, the cavern grew darker exponentially, and the soft, slow rhythmic pattern of heavy footsteps filled the air. A soft moan filled the air that made Emily hurriedly get up and glance around her. A gold bar from one of the bundles that the raiders had possessed fell down and hit the floor with a resounding clang on the cold stone floor. Another moan emitted from down the corridor, and Emily turned towards it to shockingly see something that she had never seen before. She made the mistake of screaming. The roar that followed seemed to shake the very cave itself, and Emily closed her eyes as the thing charged forth with gigantic arms outstretched. And the party on the surface never heard any commotion whatsoever, too far from the mouth of the cave to hear the fate of young Emily.
cool :)
