The Edge of MINECRAFT (Being the Second Volume of the Minecraft Trilogy)

Most Unusual Discovery

Marching alongside the rest of the monsters, Israphel carried himself confidently. After a night of festivities, the leaders of the various groups that had assembled met to discuss their next move. Israphel had explained Herobrine's message and the leaders came to the consensus to send a group north. Of course, this consensus hadn't been reached without plenty of arguing, threats, injuries, and even near-death experiences (This particular incident came about when one of General Five's lieutenants had gotten into an argument with a rough creeper from the south. The zombie had almost broken the creeper's neck when three of its bodyguards had pulled out the perfect deterrent: knives.).

Regardless of opposition, Israphel had convinced the group to pack up. The next day, the group dispersed. This trek hadn't been why they had assembled and naturally the leaders had still discussed their original intentions for getting together. Israphel grinned at the thought. They had big plans ahead. Big plans.

And now that idiot Steve was dead. Israphel had relished the news as Deadbones had told the story. The warrior had had spirit, but in the end, he was just an annoyance. Another complication to be dealt with. Israphel paused. He realized that he hadn't told Herobrine about Steve's demise. Oh well. He was Herobrine. He would learn somehow.

The creeper glanced down at his now-growling stomach. "Whelp, I'm hungry," he proclaimed to the group. "Let's sstop for a nice breakfast." Israphel lived a luxurious lifestyle, and that included lots of indulgent meals.

"Stop now?" grumbled Five. "Just a few hours ago, you were chomping at the bit to get moving!" Israphel glanced over at the zombie general. The latter had been critical of every move Israphel made, and he was beginning to dislike this man. But then again, creepers and zombies rarely got along. The brutes thought of creepers as conniving cowards while creepers thought of zombies as simple, stupid dregs. Israphel had known some useful zombies, but never ones that seemed to think beyond the mantra Stab First, Ask Questions Later.

Israphel gave a grandfatherly smile to Five. "Yesss, I would like to eat now. I'm hungry, and I'm ssure I'm not the only one."

General Five snarled, "Why didn't you eat before we left?"

"I did," replied the white creeper, "and now I am ready for more. It'sss a natural process of life." Five growled, a deep menacing sound. Normally he would have a sarcastic man beaten on the spot. But he hadn't gotten to his position without some brains. He knew he couldn't just attack the monster.

Israphel continued to smile, his red-pink eyes level with Five's fiery crimson ones. He could see anger flashing behind them. In fact, General Five was thinking up fifty ways to kill the old creeper.

But Israphel had already thought of exactly three hundred and forty-seven.

"Fine," groaned Five, giving his ground. "One hour. We stop for one hour. And then we keep moving." Israphel nodded.

"You heard the man," he ordered. "Let'ss eat!" As aids began preparing a meal, Israphel smiled to himself. All was still going exactly according to plan. Exactly.

~~~

Jack's eyes wandered over the deserted field. A few fires still burned, and the ground was littered with food scraps and the skeletal remains of tents. He kicked a log out from under one of the fires, extinguishing the light.

"Nothing?" he asked Dakota, the man approaching him.

"Nothing," he answered. Dakota was a big dark bear of a man. His limbs were rippled with muscles and every part of him looked dangerous, even his braided hair. He was a mason who had lived in Rivenholm and served at Applewood before Lucas had called in reinforcements.

"I can't believe it," Jack sighed weakly. "Eight thousand monsters vanished without a trace."

"Dey're smarter dan dey look," Dakota remarked. Jack nodded. The scouts had slipped back into camp around two in the morning, when it seemed that the monsters had fallen asleep. By Jack's estimate, they couldn't have moved any later than five. It was seven now.

Jon, the navigator, approached the two of them. "Well, based on my estimates, those suckers left three hours ago." Jack nodded. Just as he suspected.

"Lucas isn't going to like this," Jack remarked.

"Are you kidding?" Jon exclaimed. "He's going to shifting explode!"

"Jon, language," Jack cautioned.

"Sorry, Jack," Jon mocked. "I'll try to watch my shifting language." Jack sighed inwardly. Jon was an expert navigator and an invaluable team member, but he was loud and, quite frankly, very crass. However, he was right. Lucas would not like this. He had sent Jack out with a team earlier to try and figure out what the monsters' next move would be. None of them believed it when they first arrived to see nothing but an empty field.

"Spread out, guys," Jack ordered. "Find something, anything, that could be evidence." The thirty men he had brought with him broke up and began to search. Sifting through the embers of a fire, Jack felt little hope. The monsters had proved that they had brains, and Jack knew they wouldn't just a leave a note. Just as he was about to give up, though, something caught his eye. Quickly, Jack pulled a smoldering piece of paper out of the ashes. Some of it was burnt, but he could make out the important details.

Someone had drawn a makeshift map on the parchment, and Jack recognized several landmarks on it. Whoever had drawn it had been trying to plot a path somewhere. So many lines had been drawn that they had smudged together, which, Jack predicted, is why the paper had been scrapped. But Jack saw one astounding similarity: all the lines led north!

"Jon!" Jack called. The other villager hurried over. Jack handed him the map. Jon stared at it for several minutes. His brow furrowed, and then his eyes widened.

"Well, shift a bat," Jon muttered, "they're headed north."

Jack nodded. "My thinking exactly."

"But why?" Jon wondered aloud.

"I suppose that'll be the next task Lucas dishes out," Jack replied coolly. Inside, though, he was jumping with joy. This was a big lead! They had been sent to see what these monsters were doing, and they were closer than ever. If only Steve-

"Hey Jack!" called William, another one of the villagers who had come with the team. Jack looked up, his train of thought interrupted. "You need to see this!" William continued. His voice was strained with urgency. Jack jogged over. One discovery after another.

"What is it?" he asked, breathing heavily. William and Dakota were standing in front of a gigantic wooden tub. The thing was easily five or six meters high. Several holes had been cut into it, with little plugs in each one. Dakota pulled one of the plugs out, and a brownish-black liquid ran out. Jack recognized the pungent smell of grog almost immediately. "You wanted to show me a grog cooler?" he asked almost incredulously.

Dakota shook his head. "They dragged in big ice blocks from the river nearby," William explained. "We think something's frozen in one of the blocks, but we can't tell."

"Well, then, crack it open," Jack ordered. Dakota smiled. Jack knew it was what he had been waiting to hear. He grabbed one of the boards and pried it from the tub. The liquid gushed out of the gigantic tank.

"Dat's a lotta grog," Dakota said. By the time the tank had emptied, the ground was flooded with the monstrous beverage. Several large blocks of ice had also fallen out. Jack looked them over. William was right: they must have come from the river a mile from here. Large ice drifts had been coming in from the north as of late.

Jack examined each block. They seemed normal, but his eye caught on the last one. It did seem like something was in it. He looked closer, then gasped.

"What is it?" asked William, as the others crowded around.

"I think," Jack stammered hesitantly. He looked closer. "I think it's a girl."