Invidere





Lith8

Races

 * Woodlanders - Forest dwelling; scholars; archers; rogues
 * Oceanics - Island dwelling; largely exploited by other races; slaves; duelists
 * Nords (Mountain People) - Mountain dwelling; brutish; dense; forgers; mercenaries
 * Moordwellers - Marsh/Moor dwelling; isolationist; tribal; migrant workers
 * Celestials - End dwelling; also known as Gods; praised for their powers; dying race
 * Orc - Nether dwelling; grotesque in appearance; former servants of The Wild Emperor
 * Raptus - Plains dwelling; ancient creature once tamed by Herobrine; exceedingly rare; also known as Mobzillas

Characters

 * Herobrine - Celestial Male; The Wild Emperor; brother of Notch
 * Notch - Celestial Male; the Architect; brother of Herobrine
 * Vitiate - Human Woodland Male; roguelike assassin; seeker of lost knowledge
 * Cannonwalker - Human Mountain Male; famed hero; slayer of Herobrine
 * Ned Edgewalker - Human Moors Male; trusted friend of Cannonwalker
 * Sam Darkwalker - Human Woodland Male; master archer
 * Zoomer - Human Oceanic Male; seasoned duelist
 * Vex - Human Mountain Male; bounty hunter
 * Vexa - Human Mountain Female; bounty hunter
 * Archibon von Oedifex - Human Woodland Male; Lord Protector of Aragon
 * Captain Connery - Human Woodland Male; Captain of the Aragon Guard
 * Lord Cenum - Orc Male; The Dark Lord; former officer of Herobrine; ruler of the Orcs and Nox
 * The Mad King - Human Mountain Male; identity unknown; fallen tyrannical ruler of the Overworld; defeated by Notch and Herobrine; presumed dead
 * The Lords of Penance - Six Dark Entities; identities unknown; rulers of the Nether

Terms

 * Zombie Plague - A recurring sickness in Minecraftia; turns victims into zombies
 * Aurum - Essence of the Gods; highly saught after by mortals; some beings are attuned to it
 * Elvish - Expletive; slang for Woodlanders
 * Coalcoke - Expletive; unknown origin; common among miners and Nords

Places of Interest

 * The Crag - Site of the legendary duel between Herobrine and the Four Heroes; northern Kilran
 * Camp Dengar - Bounty Hunter encampment; northern Kilran
 * Aragon - Woodland citystate; ruled by Lord Protector von Oedifex; eastern Kilran
 * Nox - Ancient Orc city; ruled by The Dark Lord; the Nether
 * Thel Olihim - Pre-Human city of the Celestials

Prologue
The world was as a forest as the news was like wildfire. After a year of turmoil, what remained of The Wild Emperor had supposedly been eradicated by the same entities that had been opposing him for so many months. As the four heroes traveled across Kilran searching for their foe, they gained the attention and praise from all they passed by. When they'd finally caught up with Herobrine on the first day of Autumn, the gossipers of Aragon were the first to hear.

The corrupted village named in honor of its founder had many questions. Who were these heroes? Why did Herobrine target them? Did they even have a right to be the ones to have the honor to slay the evil spirit? Kilran's united military had been disbanded centuries ago after Herobrine virtually obliterated it before his death, leaving the world in a state of anarchy. In response, villages across the world began to declare themselves citystates, taking matters into their own hands to defend against the ever growing monster hordes.

Aragon was among the largest and most powerful of these citystates. Ever eager to be the city responsible for the permanent death of Herobrine, they formed their own miniscule military to follow the tracks of the roaming heroes and do away with them so they could claim the glory for their own. Try as they may, though, the military never caught up with the heroes.

The bitter man looked upon the events with both unwavering interest and abject rage. Not even born with the right to have a surname, Vitiate spent the better part of his life attempting to learn as much as he could about The Wild Emperor and his fallen brother, Notch. Scouring the land for lost knowledge, he learned that their power was very much tangible, and could perhaps even be transfused from their blood and consumed to grant unimaginable power. He'd heard legends of the famed Golden Apples, saught after by kings and emperors across Kilran for their untold power. Soon, innocent curiosity evolved into envy, and eventually, jealousy. With each passing month, Vitiate grew more angry, enraged that he was not special in the way his idols were and had no way of obtaining the priceless relics.

Attempting to match their power, Vitiate tried in vain to delve into the dark arts, twisted magic that had been rumored to derive from the power of the Gods. But only a handful in any generation even had a spark of that kind of power within them, and Vitiate was not gifted like they were.

Soon, Vitiate began to erect shrines across the world in an attempt to communicate with Herobrine. At these shrines, he did unspeakable things - led a herd of swine into a lake of fire, convinced mothers to slaughter their own children under the threat of murder, and mutilated his own body, anything that might grant him an audience with the disembodied spirit.

When reports across the world began to detail the inevitable return of Herobrine in a vengeful spirit form began to spring up, Vitiate waited patiently, confident that the dark entity would reveal himself and offer to share his power. But as the months passed and more and more towns began to fall to him, Vitiate realized Herobrine had no interest in him.

He knew that the proverbial heroes would eventually slay Herobrine - it was inevitable. Given their alleged accomplishments, he began to suspect that they, too, were Gods. By gathering as many rumors and whisperings as he could, Vitiate began to narrow down the possible sites of Herobrine's death, using a combination of the heroes' travel routes and traces of their passing to pinpoint a precise spot.

Traveling far and wide across the land, Vitiate finally arrived at the site of Herobrine's death - an eerie crag, corrupted with purple overgrowth and lined with sharp, jagged rocks. Sure enough, at a small clearing beneath a massive cliff lay a simple memorial, marked only by a small rock with a crude message scribbled on to it:

"Let it be known that on the first day of Autumn, in the 42nd Harvest Year,

The Wild Emperor, AKA Herobine,

a wicked marr on the fair land of Kilran,

was slain by the greatest of friends who only saught to protect each other.

Each friend was given an equal share of Herobrine's prized heirlooms,

and his famed Apples of Gold were bestowed upon those who deserved them the most."



Chapter 1 - Chimalus
"We're going to need a bigger boat," Ned said as he gazed upon the crude raft and the massive river beside it. The four figures inspected their surroundings, each adorned in gleaming diamond armor battered from their most recent skirmish. The oldest, who took up an unspoken "leader," role, carefully removed his blue mask to reveal his scraggly beard, looking cautiously to the south.

"Maybe you could've spent the better half of the day making something functional instead of this admittedly beautifully crafted piece of flotsam," Zoomer condescended, looking upon it with disdain. Ned scoffed. "Why don't you make a boat then, since you obviously know so much about them."

"Maybe I will."

"Do it then!"

"Guys, I need food," said the third voice. The second youngest and least well built of the group, Samuel seemed clueless about most situations to the rest of the group, though could be useful enough when armed with a well crafted bow. Indeed, it had been several hours since the group last searched for helpings, all of their effort devoted to fetching Ned enough lumber for him to craft his famous "Trout Facecutter," Sloop. Evidently, the details of his craftsmanship were severely exaggerated.

Zoomer and Ned both turned over to Sam, both preparing to raise a finger and yell before the bearded man stepped in. "Enough," Cannonwalker said. "Sam's right. The boat can wait until morning. Right now, we should focus on setting up camp for the night. Besides, who knows what kind of raiders could be waiting for us down the river? It's best we go with plenty of daylight left," he concluded.

The others begrudgingly agreed and set about fulfilling each of their own designated scavenger hunts; Ned and Zoomer ventured into the roofed forest to the south of the river bay to search for wildlife and firewood, Sam scoured the moor for herbs and fresh streams, while Cannon stood watch on the coast, taking care to keep them all in his sight.

The sun began to retreat from the group's view a mere hour later, just as Cannon had suspected. As if searching for cover, the sun appeared to descend into the valley, swallowed up by the ever growing shadows at the bottom. The apexes of the massive rocky crags began to fade from view as well, obscured by the same shadows that had consumed the sun moments later. The only sounds that could be heard were the constant rumbling of the forest, the low hum of the recently erected fire, and the unmistakable chirp of a bluebird, refusing to retreat into the shadows with his brethren.

The intensely blue avian looked over the humans with consummate intent, keeping both eyes on Cannonwalker just as he watched his group. Every few moments, the bluebird would let loose a graceful cry and then retreat to another vantage point, never allowing the group to trace his calls and lay eyes on him. The bird felt an ounce of smug pleasure, recognizing that he was flawlessly winning this futile game of cat and mouse.

Finally, the moon began to creep into view - the jealous and smaller counterpart to the superior sun that, despite his mightiness, still craved peaceful slumber on occasion. When the sun slept, the moon took its place, leaching off its grace to appear mighty in its own right. Despite the deception, the moon still had a purpose to fulfill, just like the sun, and could be equally protective in nature.

The group began to close back in to their camp, all of them gathered around the healthy fire and savoring their few pickings. Sam relaxed on to his knapsack. "It's weird. Hero's dead, but... I don't feel any different. Like nothing changed. Was something supposed to change?" he inquired rhetorically. Cannon straightened his back and began to grasp the hilt of his enchanted golden sword, the metal emanating a sinister ancient power that was strangely calming to him.

He nodded. "I slew him with his own blade," he said. "Well, I suppose it's mine now. I sliced him right through the heart. Saw him fall. But I can still feel him. Nothing's changed..." Cannon trailed off. When he raised his head again, he noticed no one had been listening. Had he even been talking? The others carried on their conversation, excluding him entirely. Typical.

The moon rose higher into the sky and the fire dimmed further, prompting the group to begin to doze off. They decided it would be best if they rotated in and out of guard duty, one person standing watch at a time while the others slept, waking the next person in line when their hour-long shift ended and then going back to sleep themselves. Not a perfect system, but it was functional.

Three hours past midnight, it was Sam's shift, who'd been waiting all night in anticipation for it to be his turn (not quite realizing that he was the only one who wanted to do it). Half asleep, Ned approached him and slightly nudged him on the shoulder, making sure he was fully awake and then collapsing on to his makeshift bed made of foul-smelling bug infested sheep wool. Overwhelmed with joy, Sam leapt from his knapsack pillow and fetched his oak bow and a quiver of arrows, eager to prove himself a worthy archer.

The fire had all but faded, and now the only consistent sound that remained was the persistent laugh of the bluebird. Sam walked back and forth long the river's coast the camp had been situated along, flincing at the smallest sound, nearly pulverising several trout that hadn't retreated from the shallow waters when night fell. With each flinch, the bird seemed to laugh as if on cue, mocking him for his cautious nature. With each passing minute, he began to hate the invisible bird more and more.

Thirty minutes into his shift, Sam was fed up with the bluebird and made it his mission to find and kill it (or just flop his arms around to scare it away). Seeking a vantage point, he climbed to the top of a low hanging crag, perching himself on top and squinting his eyes in search of his target. He swerved his head back and forth, following every sound and movement searching for the bird.

Sam began to doze off, frowning with apprehension when he began to realize he'd never catch the bird. Just as he began to lower his bow, however, a fluttering could be heard in the distance, and lo and behold, the marvelous bluebird rose up into the sky, visible only through the dying flame, but still clear as day in the hunter's eyes.

Instinctively and with unmatched speed, Sam drew his bow back once again and shot an arrow in the bird's direction almost as quickly as it had taken flight. After a moment, he heard the unmistakable sound of an arrow meeting flesh, an effect he'd heard many a time in his past. He grinned wildly for only a moment before he felt a piece of sharp metal meet his neck and fainted.

Chapter 2 - Melophobia
"Soon, you will see that it is not the bird that laughs... only yourself."

Vitiate, covered in a loose fitting charcoal cloak that blended in seamlessly with the shadows of the night, stalked the group of iron-wielding bounty hunters and their unconscious captors with unwavering attentiveness as they moved through the roofed forest. Moving with infallible swift and cunning stealth with a sharp dagger in hand, he followed their every move from the safety of the thick canopy covering almost the entirety of the forest, taking care to muffle each step he took as he taught himself to do as a young boy.

From the wooded ground, Vitiate heard a distinct group of voices, less dialogue and more babbling fools disagreeing over something (likely trivial). With age, he'd grown to look upon men such as these with particular disdain; they were the typical idiotic brutes, hired to do the bidding of any citystate that paid them enough coin. Counterfeit or legitimate, as long as they received something shiny for their troubles, they were satisfied. He had nurtured his hatred for them since he was a youngster, watching them drag off innocent victims to the dungeons, completely oblivious to what they were doing.

These bounty hunters had to die.

Clutching his freshly sharpened dagger tightly in reverse grip, the cloaked Vitiate leapt directly over the hunting party's woodland caravan from a massive darkwood tree to an overgrown red mushroom, nearly collapsing and falling over to the ground before steadying himself on the almost alien texture.

One single hunter noticed the rustling from overhead, aiming his torch upwards to the source of the noise. Illuminated, the red fungi shriveled slightly, attempting to block out the sudden influex of light. A female hunter who had been standing adjacent most of the hunt approached him by his side, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Vex, what have you seen?" she asked. The man lowered his torch, finding nothing in the shadows. "Nothing, Vexa. We carry on," he responded quietly. Judging from their similar complexions and rusty hair, they were likely mountain people, spawned from the same mother.

Mountain people (or Nords, as they preferred to call themselves) were known for their brutish nature, making the bounty hunting profession common among their kind. If Vitiate despised hunters, he might as well hate Nords; for almost their entire once-great culture had seemingly lost their way and resorted to the mercenary business. Vitiate was no patriot for his kind, but he certainly preferred their company over Nords.

Vitiate breathed a sigh of relief from the safety of the thick canopy he had dived into at the last possible moment. Before he could regather his senses, his ears caught wind of yet another set of voices attempting to converse. Judging by their hushed tone, they were likely the prey the hunters had been searching for. Restrained in poorly woven nets and tossed into the wooden wagon transported by the bounty hunters were the four heroes he'd like very much to meet. Everything was going as planned.

"Ned... see if you can reach my knife... it's in-"

Vexa glanced over to her captors from the front. "Stay your tongue or I'll cut it off, swarmbate!" she interjected. Cannonwalker fell silent from her words and then realized that the hunters had likely picked them clean of any weapons or valuables. ''The sword! ''he realized. If the bounty hunters realized just what they'd snatched, there's no telling what they might foolishly do with it.

The wagon abruptly grinded to a halt, stopped by another man adorned in rusting iron armor. Directly ahead, Vitiate noticed a mid-sized encampment; a mass of various sized tents built around an ancient stone building. Of course. These four fools had wandered directly into Nordic territory - the famous crags of Northern Kilran, likely crawling with crazed mountain men and bloodthirsty mercenaries.

"Halt! Where are your papers, filth?"

The two Nord siblings looked at each other, nodded, and proceeded to spit simultaneously at the man standing on guard. The man laughed.

"Welcome back, you cretin. What's your cargo today?" he inquired.

"Four prisoners, wanted by the Aragonians. Just a few runaway thieves," Vex said.

"Runaway thieves don't usually run about with diamond armor," the guard acknowledged.

"They probably stole it," Vexa suggested nonchalantly.

The guard nodded and signaled his colleagues up top to open the bridge on the side of the crude stone wall built around the encampment. The wagon began to move again, the two siblings in front with three other hunters flanking. Vitiate groaned. The entire camp had been completely shaven of any trees. Not even a touch of overhanging canopy extended beyond those walls. Vitiate was a master assassin and rogue, but light feet wouldn't help fight an army of disgruntled mountain people. He needed a plan.

The wagon was pulled into the camp and carelessly pushed into the wall of the stone building, its contents spilled on to the podzol ground and promptly seized by their captors. Upon having his net cut open, Zoomer bolted for the exit, only to be shot down by one of the hunter's crossbow dart. Cannonwalker attempted to run to his aid, his path halted by one of the guard's swords.

Vex chuckled. "He'll live. The dart was tripped with a small dosage of Silverfish poison. All that's going to die is his senses for a few hours. Hey, you're all Nords, right?" he asked as if he didn't just knock someone out. The three remaining captives exchanged looks, and then glanced at Zoomer. "I'm so sorry for your loss," Vex giggled. They hoped it was a joke.

"Come on. Into the dungeons with you until the representatives from Aragon arrive in the morning," Vexa said. Ned cocked his head. "So you're taking us to Aragon, huh? Too scared to go yourself?" Vexa scoffed. "I could walk into that Woodland hippie lovefest, violate every man and woman there, and come out without a bounty. Course I'm not scared. Those creeps just gave his very specific instructions about how to... handle you," she said with a grin. Ned gulped.

The three were pushed inside while Vex went back to fetch Zoomer, slinging him over his shoulders like an oversized sweetroll. Looking back over his shoulder to see if Zoomer was breathing, Cannonwalker was shoved back into line by Vexa as the group began to descend down the ancient stairs leading down into the dungeons. The door behind them closed a few moments later. He hoped the sound had marked his friends' late arrival.

After a minute of walking, the group finally made it into the central dungeons. Decrepit and dilapidated beyond repair, the dungeon looked as if it might collapse at any moment, only held together by a system of oak wood beams infested with termites. Lined with iron barred cells on every angle, one large cell towards the rear was cracked open just a sliver, welcoming its new inmates in with open arms. Vexa shoved them toward the cell. "Go on, then. Or it's the hole for you," she ordered.

Sam and Ned looked to Cannon. Sighing with apprehension, he began to walk into the cell, motioning for them to follow. Sam lowered his head and obeyed while Ned looked on Cannon with shock, refusing to believe he'd given up. Vexa nodded and slammed the door behind them, the iron bars locking in place with the sealing mechanism. "Try not to make too much noise," the bounty hunter suggested. "The dungeon will probably collapse on you if you yell too loud. Sound waves. Probably," she concluded before walking off.

Chapter 3 - Why the Caged Bird Sings
"WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!" wailed Sam from inside the cell. Ned slapped him. "Keep your voice down! That bounty hunter was probably right. If we're not quiet enough, we could shatter those beams and be crushed.... maybe! So quiet, already!" he scolded.

Sam crossed his arms with contempt. Cannonwalker stepped between them, breaking up the fight. "Enough already," he whispered. "We need to find a way out of here. I don't know what they've done with Zoomer, but if they're taking him to be executed..." he trailed off. "That's great," Ned chimed in. "But how exactly are we going to get out of here without bringing the place down on your heads?"

"With these," said a fourth voice, stepping in from the shadows without making a noise. Without hesitation, the cloaked figure pulled out a ring of keys and unlocked the fragile cell door, the sound of the iron bars moving masking the sound of the dungeon guardsman falling to the ground in a pool of his own split blood.

The cloaked man pulled the cell door open with care and motioned for them to follow him out. "Hey, wait a second... I'm not just going to follow some random dashing rogue out the door just because they have some keys," Ned said, refusing to budge. "Actually, you're going to do exactly that!" Cannonwalker interjected, following the lead of the stranger.

The group sprinted up the stairs under the guidance of the cloaked man, abdicating the direct and dangerous path of the main stairs and instead taking an alternate route through the twisting dungeon hallways. Approaching a doorway, the stranger detected a guardsman on patrol through the next hallway by his heavyset leather boots, whose sound resonated throughout that section of the underground complex. In the few moments of silence and stillness, the stranger's eerie mask - that of a dark crow with glassy eyes, resemblant of a Zombie Plague doctor - could finally be made out. Sam wasn't sure whether it was a mask intended to hide his identity or a true physical feature.

The guard was fast approaching, about to turn a corner into the small path the group was hidden in. Ned turned to the stranger. "Any more bright ideas, rogue?" he condescended. Sam, directly behind the stranger, rose his fists in anticpiation as the guard drew near. Immediately as he turned the corner, the stranger leapt from the shadows and stuck a piece of sharp metal through his throat and threw his falling corpse to the ground, uncomfortably close to Sam.

"Hey, watch it!" he exclaimed, though the stranger had already begun to move, beckoning them to follow. Cannon admired his style. Finally, the group reached the end of the hallway, where a sealed door presumably leading to the surface had been situated on the wall. Sifting through his keychain for a moment, the stranger located the door's specific key, turning it ajar and beginning his ascension up the twisting spiral stairs.

The faint sign of light began to fill the room, accompanied by the welcoming scent of fresh air. Hours must have passed since their abduction - it appeared to be the earliest hour of the morning, the sky a calm blue as the moon began its retreat back into the shadows. Indeed, after a moment of climbing, the group arrived inside the hollow tunnel turnning through the encampment's walls, likely used as easy transportation for roaming guards, though none could be heard in the immediate vicinity.

The stranger relaxed against the wall, finding comfort on its hard surface and taking a moment to rest. He was quickly joined by his new friends. Panting for breath, Cannonwalker turned towards the rogue. "You owe us an explanation," he said, searching for air. The stranger nodded, throwing back his hood and gently removing his plague mask, revealing that he was in fact not a winged demon from the Nether, but a simple man much like them.

The man was slender in size, as Cannon had observed earlier. Beneath his mask and charcoal hood, he sported modest light brown hair, common among Woodland humans. His eyes - the most distinct of his features - were very oddly colored, one of them blood red and the other a golden yellow. Aside from his strange eyes, he appeared to be quite plain in appearance, lightly built and light on his feet like most from Western Kilran.

"My name is Vitiate," the man said, shaking his low hanging hair from his eyes. "I'm an apostle of Notch. He's sent me here to locate you, but he didn't mention anything about you being in the custody of barbarians," he explained. Cannon cocked his head. "But Notch is dead, just like Herobrine is," he interrupted. The image of Herobrine disintegrating into ashes flashed before his eyes for a moment and was gone just as soon.

"Gods are not so easily killed," Vitiate explained. "You got lucky and caught Herobrine napping. But The Architect is... resourceful. He has methods of retaining awareness of his surroundings, even in death. I would have guessed you'd known that by now," he continued, rising to his feet and peering out of a small crack in the wall to the encampment.

"How do you know about all this? How did you know Notch has talked to us?" Ned asked in disbelief. "Did you really think your efforts had gone unnoticed? All of Kilran knows your faces by now. And Notch is hyper-aware of your exploits, as well. He needs you. He's being secretive about it, but let's just say that Gods prefer to be able to strangle people themselves than just fling energy at them from afar," Vitiate explained.

Ned gazed wildly at Vitiate. "I wasn't implying he wanted to kill you," Vitiate said, waving his hand at Ned. "What I meant is that I think Notch wants to do what Herobrine did. Live again. Sure, it's hard to really be killed in spirit form, but when you have a physical host, your powers are virtually unlimited," Vitiate cited and stopped for a moment. "This world needs order again," Vitiate continued. "And we can't have order without Notch's help. Killing Herobrine has helped, but people have funny ways of screwing themselves over without proper guidance," Vitiate said decisively.

Sam shook his head. "I don't believe a word of this," he said with his arms crossed. Vitiate rubbed his eyes in frustration. "I just sprang you from a Norse prison and killed a dozen people for you and you don't believe me. I frankly don't care if I seem like a knight in shining armor to you or not, but you have an obligation," Vitiate said. "What do you mean obligation? What do I owe Notch?" Ned asked. "When a God calls upon you, you don't turn them down, especially when they want something. If you won't come with me willingly, I'll haul you all to Thel Olihim myself, but no matter what you say, Notch will get what he wants."

Cannonwalker rose from his resting place. "He has a point, Ned," he agreed. Sam chimed in. "You said something about Thel Olihim. What is that?" he asked. "It's an ancient temple, far from Kilran and in the heart of The Architect's old empire. There's a device there that runs on the power of the Gods themselves. Herobrine spent years searching for it, but could never locate it. I believe the device there can be used to restore Notch to his former glory. The only thing we'll have to do is get there, activate the device using those Golden Apples you fetched from Herobrine, and Notch will be on his way back to health," Vitiate detailed.

Cannon shifted awkardly. "Well, there's one small hiccup in that plan..." he said.

"And what is that?"

"Well, we had the apples... but they're elsewhere now."

Vitiate stared coldly at Cannonwalker. "Where is elsewhere?"

"I gave my share of the Apples to Zoomer, and I don't know they've taken him. Sam sort of... fed them to his dog. Mut died from obesity after a few days," Cannonwalker explained. Vitiate reattached his hood and mask. "Then it's imperative we find him. Besides, I believe you're missing something."

Chapter 4 - Serendipity
"We really ought to just do away with him already. He's a lost cause."

"Quiet now, I think he's waking up."

"And what do you intend for him to do once he wakes up? Follow your every whim, make him play your little game? Really now, I'd like to hear just what you had in mind."

"What would you have me do, then? Give up, let him return home? You know I can't do that. This has to come to fruition. If it doesn't, who knows what might happen?

"Who are you trying to convince? Me, or you?"

"Both of us."

The sun, no longer desiring to wait patiently for its counterpart to flee, forced its way into the skyline, its imposing image frightening all of the night's shadows back into hiding. In the day, Vitiate and his entourage may be safe from the victims of the resurgent Zombie Plague, but they would have to take extra to not be seen by their foes, blending in with the night being their best method of avoiding detection.

Vitiate wondered if the night had betrayed them or the sun saught to hinder them. In the past years of his life, he wondered if either of them had truly been on his side. Nevertheless, adaptation was key, especially when the fate of the world was at stake.

Moving with haste, the rogue led his newfound allies into a shrub adjacent to the encampment's outer wall and began to survey the area, searching for any sign of Zoomer and their secondary target, the armory. Crouching his head just under the open air, Vitiate squinted through his mask and swept his eyes to and fro across the visible camp, landing on a large circular stone building to the southernmost point of the area near the entrance.

"I'll bet that's the armory," Vitiate said, pointing to the structure in the distance. "If they're keeping your supplies anywhere, they're probably in there. And I'll assume you won't want The Wild Emperor's sword in the hands of those dense Nords," he continued. Cannon roofed his eyes with disdain at Vitiate. "You'd do well to hold your tongue, thief. I don't take kindly to strangers with big mouths," he defended.

Vitiate realized his error and chuckled. "All apologies. I suppose you wouldn't want that thing in anyone's hands but yours at this point. You'll need to take your friends and get in and out as quickly as possible. There will be guards. Stick to the shadows, however many of them are left at least," he instructed. Sam chimed in. "You aren't coming with us?" he asked. Vitiate shook his head. "We have one more objective to tend to and we don't have enough night left to do one after the other. I'll sneak into the infirmary and revive your friend. With any luck, I'll be able to get him awake and back on his feet. If not, then you have my condolences."

The rogue signaled for them to get moving, and thus they went their seperate ways, the three heroes making for the armory while Vitiate bobbed and weaved between the scattered tents on his way to the infirmary. The trio was able to to bolt for the armory with relative ease, taking cover behind the massive rectangular tent that stretched across the eastern wall and hitting the deck whenever a guard came within range on the wall patrol. It seemed at least one of them had paid particular attention to Vitiate's artful dodges and movements.

Vitiate, conversely, took a much longer route to the other side of the camp towards a smaller building, marked by a dozen bandage-wrapped soldiers laying on the grass outside. It was the infirmary, no doubt. Luckily, nearly all of the wounded Nords seemed to be sleeping like babies, getting their much needed rest they'd need to stand around like idiots again as soon as possible.

The thief sprinted across a small clearing to an unseen spot behind a small clay building situated on the encampment's northeastern edge, using the window ledge to ascend to the top of it and use the boost to leap to the top of the wall. With only a moment left before detection by the crossing wall guard, he leapt from the wall's highest point to the roof of the infirmary, his boots and light feet only barely minimizing the ensuing sound enough so as to not wake the sleeping hounds.

Taking only a moment to rest his nearly broken leg, he recuperated almost instantly and dropped to the grass below, sliding open the slightly ajar side window and climbing inside, to his great pain and discomfort resulting from his prior fall. Thankfully, the interior seemed to be completely empty of hostiles; anything less would have surely resulted in an untimely demise.

To the end of the room was the prize the thief had been pursuing the entire escapade: the heavily sedated Zoomer, lying deathly still on a rough bedroll with an array of crude tonics to his side. Vitiate shook his head. "No, those simply won't do," he said as he walked over and knelt at his side. It was time to put his skills to the test.

After fidgeting around in his pockets for a moment, Vitiate retrieved a small vial no more than an inch in size filled with a strange green liquid. Taking Zoomer's hand, he carefully poured the liquid into his mouth and began to mutter an incantation.

"Rise, child, and see the truth."

Zoomer began to shake violently back to life the moment he spoke, coughing and wheezing up nothing but his own air. Vitiate placed a hand on his shoulder, attempting to calm his fit. Beneath his mask, a small smile wormed its way on to his face, filled with glee as he began to manifest his powers. Soon, Zoomer relaxed and rose to his feet with Vitiate's help.

"Come on. Your friends will be on their way soon. We need to get moving," Vitiate said, starting back towards the window. Zoomer emitted a brief moan when he began to move, clutching his head as his eyes flashed red for a mere moment before returning to normal. "As you say..."

Climbing out of the window, the two looped back around the side of the infirmary to the shadows in the corner and almost immediately spotted the other three dashing towards the infirmary being pursued by a small army of Nords and a handful of regally dressed soldiers very different from their Nordic counterparts.

Cannonwalker led the group, once again brandishing his gleaming golden sword and using it to cut open the stomach of any Nords in his way. "We've got our weapons, let's go!" he shouted. Vitiate nodded and motioned for the restored group to follow him to the main door, once again brandishing his bloodied dagger.

The Nords were relentless. Soon, a group of archers began to gun them down, forcing them into a zigzag postion as they rounded about the central bulding and towards their exit. Just as they began to turn the corner, however, a massive group of brown and green cloaked soldiers blocked their path. Attempting to run back the other way, they instead ran into more Nords flanking them.

Their leader, a heavyset man standing in the center of the line brandishing a drawn back longbow, stepped forward and addressed the escapees. "Stop right there or I'll shoot you down where you stand!" the man exclaimed. "I am Captain Zed Connery of Aragon under his Lordship Archibon von Oedifex. You and your brutish friends will be taken to Aragon where you will face the judgment of the Lord Protector, given a fair trial, and subsequently executed. Understood?"

"That doesn't sound very fair to me," Ned said.

"I agree," Sam added.

"I can see where you're coming from," one Nord said.

The five of them and Captain Connery all turned to the clueless Nord for a moment, the latter of which was especially bamboozled at the prospect. Taking the chance to strike, Vitiate drew out a smoke grenade with lightning speed and threw it on the ground twice as quickly, all of the surrounding guards and soldiers temporarily thrown off by the sudden movement while the escapees knew precisely what they had to do - run.

Vitiate and the others bolted with unrelenting haste towards the exit, not bothering to cut down any of their pursuers. Connery drew back his bow and aimed it directly at the fleeing Sam. "Stop it, I said! Or I'll shoot!" he threatened. Vexa, who had been watching the entire ordeal from afar, lowered her head in thought for a moment before drawing her crossbow and shooting Connery in the chest, penetrating his armor and sending him to his knees.

"I've had about enough of your damn antics, Connery! Come on Vex, let's teach these elvish pricks a lesson!" she shouted, prompting her brother and other assorted allies to rally to the cause, mowing down the squadron of Aragonians and allowing the group to escape. In disbelief, Cannonwalker halted and glanced back, staring at Vexa. "GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE OR WE'LL CARVE YOU, TOO!" she yelled, prompting him to mouth a quick "thank you," before rejoining the others in the chase.

Chapter 5 - Curmudgeon
The five heroes, once again reunited in their singular cause (that cause being run like hell) ran harder than any of them cared to recall, their primal instincts kicking in as disregarded the fact that they were all likely to collapse at any moment after several moments of running. None of them cared to look back, instead focusing their sights completely on their target. As the seconds ticked by, they drew closer to the exit, savoring in the notion that they might just make it out alive.

From the distance, a faint screaming could be heard, indistinct among the shared symphony of yelps, the sound of swords clashing together, and that of hot steel sinking into human flesh. Before Cannon could make out the voice, however, he and the others had already reached the exit, ducking behind the trees surrounding the massive encampment. Scanning the area, Vitiate spotted no sign of pursuers.

Sam, desperately choking on his own air, rushed to Zoomer's side. "Zoomer... we thought you were dead! What happened?" he asked. Staring off into space for a moment, Zoomer offered no clear response, only uttering an indistinct phrase from a tongue none of them could clearly identify. Vitiate gazed at him for a moment before returning to attention, setting his sights towards the horizon.

"We need to find the rest of those Apples. Without them, I don't know how much longer this world's going to survive. Aragon sending their puppets after you is just another sign that we're running out of time," he said impatiently. "We've had plenty of towns come after us because they could have profited off of killing Herobrine themselves," Cannon said. "Surely that's the only reason they're after us." Sam shook his head. "But Herobrine's dead. They hired Nords to hunt us down... what could they want with us?"

"Whatever it is, we can't risk them finding us again. When Connery and his goons don't return to Aragon, they'll know something's up," Vitiate concluded. Walking over and kneeling before Zoomer, he too had a lineup of questions. "Where did you last see the Apples, Zoomer?" he asked calmly. Oddly, the entire time Zoomer appeared dazed, unable to offer sufficient responses. The moment Vitiate spoke to him, however, he perked up, yielding an answer obediently.

"I last saw the Apples when I traded them to an Orc for 32 Diamonds. The Orc said he was working for the Dark Lord," Zoomer said without emotion or hesitance. Cannonwalker perked his eyebrows for a moment and then realized the gravity of the situation. "Zoomer, you dense spore! The Dark Lord is two dimensions over in Nox, and he's got an entire empire wrapped around his fingers! What were you thinking?!" he asked, shaking his head.

Sam stepped between them. "Wait, what's Nox? And who's this Dark Lord?" he asked. "Nox is an ancient mass of ruins in the Nether," Ned explained. "Millions of people are buried there. Our friend the Dark Lord led his legion of Orcs there after his master Herobrine vanished from the public eye. They've been building there ever since, but most people just pretended they were all dead after Hero disappeared. Evidently, they weren't," he finished.

Vitiate sighed. "The time for the blame game is long past. We need to find a way into the Nether, but it won't be easy," he said, stretching his arm. "Last I heard, all the Nether Portals were sealed off after Cenum led his army in there, and we don't exactly have the resources to make our own. Do you know of any others in existence, Vitiate?" he asked, trying to remain calm. Vitiate scratched his chin in thought. "There is one," he said. "But it's in the last place we want to be. I wish there were another way, but... we need to go to Aragon. The Lord Protector is keeping one in his little palace for safekeeping. Why he needs it, I have no clue. But it may be our only way to Nox," he said with a sigh.

Cannonwalker decided it was best before Ned could raise his hand to protest. "It's our only way," Ned. "I know you didn't sign up for this - none of us did. But if we don't, and if what Vitiate says is true... there's no telling what might happen if we don't get those Apples. You can stay behind and be escorted to Aragon forcefully if you want. But I'm going with the rogue," he said decisively.

Ned hesitated, but finally rose in agreement. "I won't let you do this by yourself, it just wouldn't be right after all we've been through. I've got your back, Cannon," Ned said, joining his side before Vitiate, crossing his arms waiting for the others to join. "Come on, Sam," Ned said, reaching an arm out towards him. "For old time's sake." Almost immediately, he took his hand and lept to his feet, eager as ever. "You too, Zoo-" Ned started, only to find that Zoomer had already risen, staring blankly at Ned expectantly.

"I guess you're as ambitious as Cannon is," Ned said jokingly, shaking off the awkwardness of the situation. "So, rogue... what's the best route to Aragon?" he asked, turning to Vitiate. "I thought you'd never ask. We'll need to head east towards the Great Plains, quick as we please. There shouldn't be much resistance on our way there. Most of the traffic in those plains is just wandering merchant caravans," he said. He had to strain himself to avoid showing any outward emotion. Because deep down, he knew that wasn't true. It was for their own good - if they knew what was waiting for them in the Plains, none of them would follow him.

"Righto. Plains, huh? I guess it'd be a welcome respite from these... mountains," Ned said, looking suspiciously at the towering crags. "If we're lucky, we'll be able to find some wild horses along the way and ride to Aragon in half the time. For now, though, we'll need to travel on foot," Vitiate said grimly.

The heroes traveled far and wide as the wooded valley eventually faded as all things did, eventually fading entirely as the flowery plains emerged from their shadows. The vast plans consumed the entire horizon, nothing but grass and beautiful flowers for miles. In some places for dramatically than others, the plant life prevailed, though not a single tree or animal could be seen. Ponds and lakes were just as scarce, none of them spotting a single solitary body of water until they were nearly six hours into their journey.

"Guys, over here! I found water!" Sam exclaimed. Cannonwalker was the first to begin running towards him, thirsty beyond belief and craving even a single drop of water. Upon setting his eyes on what Sam had found, however, he was stricken with grief. "It's disgusting... and only a foot long! I could drool this much!" Ned said. Cannon sighed. "We need to do anything to survive. I'm going to dehydrate soon..." he said in desperation.

Just before he could reach his face into the miniscule pond, Vitiate came up behind him and stopped him. "Don't drink that! Look at the algae in there. Not to mention how stagnant it is. If you drink it, you'll sure as hell die quicker than if you didn't," he warned. "How do you know? Are you some kind of water expert?" Sam asked. Vitiate scoffed. "That would be Zoomer," he said, pointing to the deathly still Oceanic standing atop of slightly elevated hill overlooking the horizon.

"Even if it is tainted.. we have to try. Besides, Sam's right... it might not even be-" Cannon's train of thought hit a brick wall as he heard a rumbling in the distance. "Everyone... over there!" he shouted, pointing into the distance. Indeed, four distinct shapes could be made out on the horizon, rapidly sprinting towards the group. Bracing for a battle, Cannon drew his sword and stood valiantly, prepared to face the attackers.

"HORSES!" Sam yelled. The beasts raced towards them with lightning speed, nearly passing them by before Vitiate made a strange whistling sound to halt them. All four of them obediently stopped, staring with bewilderment into the eyes of their new human masters. "Finally..." Ned said quietly as he began to climb atop one of them. "Wait," Vitiate said. "Considering how spooked they are, don't you figure they were running from something?" he inquired. "Nonsense," Ned said. "These things were probably just... migrating. Yeah, migrating. Nothing to worry about. So who's sharing?"

Cannon raised his hand. "I'll share with Zoomer. He looks like he could collapse at any second," he said, grabbing hold of the Oceanic and hoisting him atop the brown steed. The rest of them followed suit and designated their horses and continued their perilous journey towards Aragon.

Chapter 6 - Monster
A sickly feeling fell upon the heroes as their skin began to crawl as if bugs lingered inside them and their bodies felt crushed under the weight of the strangely augmented air. The formerly eerily calm plains had abruptly shifted from their constant tranquil state into something almost unnatural - the sky, gray as the eyes of a Woodlander, looked as if it might split open at any moment to swallow the lot of them whole.

The horses began to stir, their pace dulling just as the atmosphere around them. "Hey, wait up a second!" Sam yelled from the back of the group to get the attention of his fellows. "My horse... stopped," he said, quickly jumping off as the others fell back towards him. Taking a quick whiff of the air, Cannon realized something was amiss. Just as he began to turn back to his steed, he noticed that Zoomer had vacated it as well, now staring blankly up into the charcoal sky.

Vitiate was the last to leave his mount, taking ample time to observe his surroundings. He'd read about such things happening during great apocalypses in the past, centuries ago during the reign of The Mad King, but nothing like it within the past dozen decades. This was a poor omen to say the least.

Cannonwalker sensed Vitiate's distress as he joined the group. "What do you think it is? Is it... him?" the Nord asked. Vitiate shook his head. "No. Something much older. Something much more primal," he explained as the first drops of rain began to fall on his ears. Cannon looked at the rogue expectantly, but he offered no explanation, instead briskly walking towards the spooked horse.

Removing the glove from his right hand and placing it on the beast's snout, Vitiate quaked at the subtle messages he began to pick up. "This is bad," he started. "I warned you we shouldn't have taken this route. These horses were running from something. And whatever it is, we've walked right in its path," he warned. Before he could elaborate, Sam began to yell, pointing up at the sky curiously. "Look! A storm's coming!" he exclaimed.

The wailings of Sam masked the initial sound of the terrified horses bolting in the other direction, though not even the loudest scream could outshine the ensuing symphony of thunder accompanied by a daunting alien roar in the distance. "That's no storm," Vitiate said, gazing into the all consuming hurricane formation in the sky. "That's a monster."

The roar sounded again, this time much closer, and forcing the entirety of the group to cover their ears in pain. "WHAT IS THAT THING?" Ned yelled over the sounds. "I should have known," Vitiate said. "I thought these plains had been cleared centuries ago. Wiped of all remnants of Herobrine's Infinite Empire. Wiped of all those... things. But one must have survived... a-a Raptus!"

"You led us to a Mobzilla and you didn't even WARN us?!" Cannon yelled. "You've heard the stories, Cannon! Everything but his name had been eradicated over centuries! I had no way of knowing!" Vitiate yelled. Sam yelped. "Uh... guys?"

The ground itself felt as if it might collapse into a great hole, all sound but the dreaded rumbling of the gigantic beast before them completely annhilated, along with the spirits of its prey. Finally, the silence was broken in the most terrible way possible - through the infallible roar of the Raptus, shredding the heroes' ear drums as hurricane force winds knocked them off their feet.

"RUN LIKE HELL!"

The entire group did so even before hearing Cannon's yelp, including Zoomer, whose survival instincts finally seemed to kick in, but only in the face of imminent death. The beast, at least 50 blocks tall, began to give chase, remnants of its great and terrible roar still rippling across the plains. In desperation, Sam pulled out his restored bow fetched from the Norse armory and fired a single shot at the towering beast, the arrow harmlessly landing on its neck, prompting only a low growl of annoyance.

Ned turned back for only a mere moment and was completely mesmerized by the great beast before him, taking each step carefully and savoring the fear of its prey. Standing completely still in a trance not unlike Zoomer's, Ned gazed directly into the beast's eyes, completely dazed by their hypnotic yellow hue. Vitiate swore he saw the leviathan grin wildly for a moment before it began to hold its breath, its nostrils bleeding fiery black smoke. Just before it unleashed its hellish barrage, the rogue leapt at the mesmerized Ned and threw him out of the way, the two of them only narrowly avoiding the Raptus' flame breath.

The ensuing barrage of savage fireballs completely ravaged the landscape, annihilating the patch of ground the heroes had been standing on and revealing the hidden layer of bedrock below. The affected area caught fire and burned for only a moment before the drenching bleak rain extinguished it. Tired of the humans' games, the beast let loose yet another great roar, shaking the landscape only slightly lighter than his previous flame blast.

Ned drew his shortbow and joined Sam in attempting to wither the beast down, firing precious arrow after arrow and lining its black scaled body with unnatural bloody pores. As the Raptus began to turn around to face his attackers, one stray arrow from Sam's bow met its devillish eyes, prompting it to shriek wildly and begin to charge at him. Enraged as he was, however, he was unreasonably tall and fat and couldn't keep up with his prey.

Attempting to catch them from a distance, the Raptus began charging its flame breath once again, its razor sharp spikes located on its back beginning to glow a sinister crimson. In anticipation, the beast drew open its gigantic mouth, the faint light of the fire within beginning to emanate from its throat. Thinking quickly, Ned shot an arrow directly inside, meeting the roof of its mouth and causing it to choke on its own flames, desperately coughing up a fit of black smoke.

The beast attempted to roar, though all that came out was a shrill shriek and another puff of smoke. Vitiate ran to Cannonwalker and the others who had regrouped once the beast had been momentarily stunned. "We've slowed it down, but we need something more powerful. Something forged specifically to tame gigantic beasts," he said, pointing to Cannon's stowed sword hanging off his belt.

"The Blightsword," Cannon said, clutching it closely. "I've climbed worse things in my life, Cannon. Loan me your sword and I'll finish that thing off in a heartbeat," he promised. Cannon clutched the sword harder, silently unwilling to part with it. "Please, give it to me!" Vitiate begged urgently as the beast began to regain its senses.

Reluctantly but confidently, Cannon unsheathed the golden blade and handed it in Vitiate's gloved hands carefully. While he expected the rogue to quickly run off to slay the beast, Cannon instead noticed him slip into a momentary trance, almost outwardly ecstatic to wield the blade as a thousand senses awoke within him at once.

Finally, Vitiate properly took the sword and began to sprint towards the beast, quickly slipping out of his trance. Being a mere human, Cannon expected the rogue to have trouble leaping on top of the towering Raptus, though instead of taking his time to carefully select a route to take, he simply leapt an incredible distance directly on to its shoulder with speed that he'd never seen a mere mortal achieve.

Not even taking a moment to ground himself, Vitiate sprinted to the cranium of the now rising Raptus, regaining its senses after being wounded by the arrow. Not even noticing the rogue sneaking around on top of its head, it attempted to charge towards the four remaining attackers. Momentarily stumbled, Vitiate briskly stabbed the blade into the beast's massive head, penetrating directly though its skull and into its pea-sized brain.

The beast roared a mighty roar and began to attempt to shake off the rogue, only to be punctured once again in another soft spot. Now reeling in pain, the beast made a last ditch effort to scare off its killer by launching a barrage of fireballs into the air, but by the time they left his mouth he'd already plunged his blade directly into its one remaining good eye, permanently blinding it and forcing it to fall over violently.

Before it could recuperate, Vitiate quickly leapt to the ravaged ground and plunged the blade directly into its neck one last time for good measure. With one last desperate growl, the Raptus lay dead on the grass, slain by the assassin with supernatural speed and agility no man could ever reach.

"I believe this is yours," he said, tossing the Blightsword back to Cannon as he walked over to inspect the beast's corpse.

Chapter 7 - The Halls of the Woodland King
Six hours later...

The streets of Aragon were lit only by the dim shine of the city's few streetlights. Woodlanders were notorious for their hatred of disorder and were proud advocates of absolute silence during the dark hours. Not a creature was stirring on the hazy streets of the town... that is, except, for the five bumbling fools jumping from rooftop to rooftop, four out of them all having no experience with such roguelike maneuvers (one of which hardly even coherent).

Situated on the outskirts of the vast flowery plains on the line where the grass began to fade into woodland, Aragon was heavily defended from the ever growing hordes of plague zombies; in fear, the Lord Protector ordered that a great cobblestone wall be constructed around the town, though rumors persisted that there were creatures in the wilds that could perhaps penetrate their defenses. The Protector quickly dismissed all these claims, though he himself as a former Knight of Notch knew better. Vitiate understood that keeping these rumors under wraps was best so as not to send the people of Aragon into a frenzy - though perhaps, if given the chance, he would do it a bit more gently.

"In the three days we've been together, you've done some crazy crap," Ned said, struggling to hold on to the dangling rope. "But I think this is the craziest!" he exclaimed, finishing his ascension. The method of "climbing to the top of the wall and then throwing a rope over the side," seemed like a reasonable plan for ascending the outer wall, though the same couldn't be said in turn for the Rising Sun House, the home of the Lord Protector, the most heavily guarded place in Aragon.

"Yeah... don't you think they'll spit us?" Sam inquired from below. "They surely will if you keep whining so loudly! Now climb, dammit!" Vitiate said with cuffed hands from the top of the roof. Three of the group had made it to the top; Vitiate, Ned, and Zoomer looked from above as their comrades followed their path. After several minutes of struggling, the entirety of the group finally steadied themselves on the roof of the Protector's house.

"How exactly were you planning to get inside, now that we're on top of his house?" Cannon asked, looking to the cloaked assassin expectantly. "Simple. Come, and bring the rope," he said, walking over to the back of the house. Taking the rope and tying it around his waist, the rogue handed the end of the rope to Cannon, instructing him to hold on tight.

"See you on the other side," Vitiate said before abruptly hopping over the side, causing Cannonwalker to nearly keel over from the sudden force. Danging from blow, Vitiate gave a quick thumbs up, signaling him to lower the rope for a few more moments before making a throat-cutting motion to stop. From the rope outside, Vitiate peered into the back window, likely into a bedroom of sorts.

Straining himself to look for any signs of movement or a clue to the portal's whereabouts, he began to hear the faint sound of footsteps emanating from the hall outside the bedroom. From the roof above, Sam poked Cannon invasively. "Hey Cannon, why are we here again? Also, whose house are we breaking into?" he asked. "Yeah, I've been wondering that too," Ned said, walking over to Cannon and leaving his lookout position.

Cannon sighed in frustration. "The portal, remember? We need to get to Nox because you sold an Orc a bunch of golden apples. We need those apples," he said, looking to Sam. "Okay, but why do we need the apples?" he asked in return. The four of them continued rambling as the dangling rogue below began to desperately tug on his rope, noticing the sound of keys growing louder and louder.

Ned was first to notice the tugging. "Uh, Cannon... you're getting a rope burn," he said, motion to his hands. He gasped, quickly pulling the rope back up as Vitiate vanished from the man's sight in the nick of time. "Really captain, I must object," the voice said. "Why should I have to retreat to my living space just because a few thieves were spotted on the town premises? What harm could they do to me?" he asked. "It's for your own good," a second voice said. Cannon and Vitiate recognized it instantly - Captain Connery, the commander of the Lord Protector's guard. He must have survived the skirmish at the Nord camp...

"Captain, I will be fine!"

"Lord Protector von Oedifex, I must insist you stay here, at least until we have the thieves in custody. The risk is too great. There is talk among the guards... they say it's them, my lord."

"Who's THEM?!"

"Them."

Archibon raised his eyebrow for a moment and then gasped in realization before nodding. "Very well. Take your guards. Find these prisoners and bring them to me... alive," he said. Captain Connery nodded. "It will be done, my lord," he said, vacating the room and closing the door behind him. Archibon gave a heavy sigh as the captain left, plopping down on his luxurious bed and quickly closing his eyes.

Vitiate pulled back from the building's edge. "Well, now what do we do?" Cannon asked. "The portal is probably in the dungeons, deep underground," Vitiate said. "But this may be our only way in. This better be the last time I have to climb through a window," he said as he peaked back over the edge. "Don't tell me you're going back down there," Ned said. "It's a tiny room! Nobody falls asleep that fast! We'll wake him for sure," he said. "Do you have a better idea?" the rogue asked, looking back and forth between him and the remainder of the group. "Then let's go."

Sam volunteered to surrender his one diamond sword and firmly plop it into the house's roof, tying to the rope to it and hoping that the dense gem would keep them supported. Vitiate went first, descending from the roof and unlocking the bedroom window from the outside. The dulcet tones of the Protector's snoring could be heard from the roof. Hopefully, they would be able to mask the footsteps of the intruders.

The rogue sheepishly stalked into the bedroom, staying as far away from the sleeping noble as possible as he waited for the remainder of the group to arrive through the window. Finally, the last one - Ned - made it through the window, and Vitiate once again led the group through the house's winding corridors to the dungeon below.

The group arrived in the main room of the house, avoiding the detection of the sparse roaming guards. Connery and his elite hunters were nowhere to be seen, likely searching for them elsewhere outside the home's walls. The black and white checkered floor was remarkably mesmerizing, likely polished daily by the "indentured servants," of the Lord Protector and his goons. Vitiate was all too familiar with the ways of Aragon.

"There," Vitiate said, pointing to an out of place spruce door on the side of the main staircase. "Do you reckon that door leads to the dungeons?" Cannon asked. Vitiate nodded. "It's out best bet. I don't exactly see any secret passageways of libraries in this place," he said. The rogue quickly made way towards the door, followed by his entourage.

"Not locked," Vitiate said as he approached the door. "Strange." Ignoring his intution, he pushed open the door and motioned for everyone to follow him inside to the dark rooms below. Indeed, the group had located the dank dungeons; it contained all of the normal atmospheric features of such a place, but it was strangely empty, as if emptied only moments ago.

"Come on, quickly. We need to find that portal before-" Vitiate was halted in the middle of his statement by a sudden low growl and a sudden purple flash emanating from the next room. Vitiate started to signal the others, but found that they had all already gathered around the obsidian portal, now quickly stirring to life as it sensed a mortal presence nearby.

"I guess this is what we're looking for," Ned said, awkwardly walking around the still-dazed Zoomer. "It appears so," Vitiate said, joining them. "But if we don't want to end up in a random cave thousands of miles from Nox, we'll need to configure it somehow," he explained, rubbing his chin in thought.

"Cannonwalker, stick your sword in there."

"What?"

"You heard me. Portals don't work off of anything tangible, but the best way to steer their cosmic controls is through requirement. Your sword is the closest thing we have to apples made of gold, so..."

Cannon nodded reluctantly, carefully placing in sword inside the wavy purple thread in the portal. Almost as soon as the portal met his sword, it began to tug on it, as if something on the other side began to pull as well. Within moments, the sword slipped out of Cannon's hands and into the other side.

"I suppose we don't have much of a choice now, then," Vitiate said, walking towards the portal. "STOP RIGHT THERE! STEP AWAY FROM THE PORTAL!" Captain Connery said as he entered the room.

"RUN!"

The five of them lept into the portal, narrowly escaping Connery's blade. "Captain, shall we pursue?" an officer asked urgently. "No," he said. "Leave them to die themselves. No one enters that awful place and comes back alive. They will be their own doom," he concluded, stowing his sword.

Chapter 8 - Inferno
The first thing the group felt was fire, and shortly after that, terror. The portal had formed on the edge of a massive lake of fire, the sound flowing lava overbearing and accompanied by the shriek of a legion of Pigmen. Cannonwalker fell to his knees, the sensation hitting him the hardest after his previous experiences in the Nether. Vitiate, steeling himself from the darkness, pulled him to his feet and shook him back to consciousness.

The sight of the infernal realm was more unsettling than the thought of it. The synphony of a thousand souls screaming while lords of darkness played in rivers of blood was overbearing, driving all but one of the group to a temporary state of complete insanity. Vitiate dashed between them in attempt to restore their minds one by one, but it was a useless gesture - his mind was thoroughly protected, though the same could not be said about his allies. In the corner of his eye, six figures began to form; shadowy entities that reeked of death, faceless and nameless.

"We are the Lords of Penance. You have come to our realm, utterly unprepared. Tell me, you who would intrude on our perfect plane of existence - what are your names?"

The figures spoke in unison, though they sounded more numerous than just six reapers. Each distinct voice spoke as if thousands of more voices accompanied it, countless indentured souls obeying their masters' every command. "I see no reason to divulge my name to servants of The Dark Lord. Bring me your master and then we will speak," Vitiate said. In unison, the entities raised their cloaked hands and reached towards the rogue.

"We are no mere servants of the Orc fool. He has deceived us as he deceived so many before. Took our homes from us, drove us out... all under the protection of that Celestial fool, Herobrine. You will give us your name or we will pry it out from your gaping mouth."

"My name is Makrozoia. Thief in the shadows. Rogue of the night."

"Makrozioa... long life. We have heard your name before. And what of your cowering friends?"

"These people are Melampus, Stultus, Diuinator, and Percivil. We have been wronged by the Dark Lord. He has something of ours that we would like back."

The Lords of Penance showed no outward reaction, but Vitiate faintly heard the sound of communication. Not of any language he had heard before, but the sounds sounded distinct. If they weren't words directly, they must have been an incantation, or perhaps just the ambient cries of the Nether. The leftmost Lord nodded to the rightermost, and then returned their gaze to the rogue.

"We see the truth in your words. We will aid you in your quest to spoil the reign of the Dark One. We will give you safe passage into his city and guarantee your escape, but on one condition."

"And what condition is that?"

"We sense that you seek something from the Dark One. When you kill him - and you will kill him - we request that you retreive the amulet around his foul neck and return it to us. Do not wear it. Do not look directly into the gem inside. And most importantly, do not tell your friends of us. Simply return it to us when the time is right, and we will never speak again. Do we have a deal?"

Vitiate considered the offer for a moment and nodded. "We have an accord," he said, reaching out his cloaked hand to the figure in the center. The apparitions did approach him, but not in the way he had hoped - instead of shaking hands politely, they converged on him, their dark forms absorbing into his body seamlessly. He swore he could feel a bit colder...

The rogue returned his attention to his hysteric allies and continued to comfort them, and after a few healthy purges, the lot of them had returned to a stable state of mind. "You were out for about five minutes," Vitiate said. "Come on, we need to find Nox." Cannon darted his eyes back and forth in the magma cavern. "Where exactly are we going to find this lost city? It could be anywhere..."

To the side of the cave, the crusty and ancient Netherrack began to split open, revealing a dark path leading upwards to an unknown source of light. "Or there," Vitiate said, pointing to the clearing. Ned stumbled forward, only just regaining a clear state of mind, and began to head towards the cave, not offering a single word. The remainder of the group promptly followed him, unsure of what might lay ahead.

Gradually, the cave began to split open more dramatically, eventually becoming quite spacious as the light from above grew more apparent. "Quick, over here!" Vitiate said as he hid behind a natural wall just before the hole opened. "I can hear voices from above. I think we're close," he said, leaning to the side to get a better listen. Cannon nodded. "Not human voices either," he said. Ned quaked. "Orcs."

Vitiate took a few cautious steps toward the surface above, peering out to the scarred landscape. Strangely, it hardly seemed like the Nether anymore; no sign of the massive cave or any lava lakes. "I think... I think we're above the Nether," Vitiate said while keeping an eye above. Ned scoffed. "That's impossible. There is no 'above the Nether.' People have tried, but there's no way to get above that layer of bedrock," he said. Vitiate motioned for him to follow. "Then come take a look at this."

The rest of the group soon joined, lying on their stomachs and peering out to the ruined city before them. It was built almost entirely out of cracked stone and seemed close to total destruction, only a few buildings remaining amongst an entire region of destroyed buildings. Closest to them was the largest, a massive square temple with spiked sides, each corner producing an alien beam of red light into the dark sky. Such technology was completely beyong any of their understanding.

"I don't see any Orcs near here," Sam said. "Well, there's plenty. But it's almost as if we're invisible. How can they not see us?" he asked. Cannonwalker raised an eyebrow to Vitiate then returned to lookout. "We'll have to get moving fast," he said. "I suppose our best bet would be that temple there. It must be where The Dark Lord is hiding." Ned chimed in. "Hold on, why would The Dark Lord have them? Didn't Zoomer just give them to a random Orc back in the Overworld?" Vitiate shook his head. "All Orcs are part of their Lord's hivemind. They have no possesions. Their lives belong to Cenum," he said grimly.

Vitiate began to move, taking cover behind a cobblestone wall near the hole. Signaling that the coast was clear, the rest of the group followed, not daring to take a step out of order to avoid detection. Orcs were vicious warriors and infallible protectors. No man could stand against them without a severe number advantage.

The rogue was given pause. "The entrance to the temple is relatively sparsely guarded," he said in a worried tone. Ned shrugged. "Maybe we've caught The Dark Lord napping," he said. "Maybe it's a trap," Cannon added. "Do we really have a choice?" Sam asked rhetorically. The group momentarily turned to Zoomer for his two cents, almost forgetting that he'd been dazed for several days now. They'd have to take care of that eventually.

The group was on the move once again soon enough, approaching the massive temple and hiding on the side of the grand entrance's staircase. "Here goes nothing," Vitiate said, climing over the wall and approaching the grand door, and, as expected, with no resistance. With haste, he pushed open the grand stone doors and stepped inside, revealing the grand interior; the entrance room was dotted with elegant statues of great and powerful Orcs, each one wielding a unique weapon. The walls were lined with red and black banners sporting strange arcane designs and Orc guardians stood on guard at every corner of the grand room, paying no attention to the intruders.

Finally, and most obviously, at the very back of the room was The Dark Lord's grand throne, slightly elevated from the temple's ground level by a set of wide stairs. The back wall was additionally lined with ornate display cases, exactly 5 on both sides of the throne. Of the ten, two of the display cases were completely empty of their contents. But the use for the display cases became obvious quite quickly, as in the remaining eight stands lay one Golden Apple each, gleaming with an intense purple aura and emanating an unnatural amount of power. Atop the grand throne was who Vitiate assumed the ruler of this ruined city was - Lord Cenum, The Dark Lord. Cannonwalker observed the Apples with equal fascination, but was stricken with unwavering anger the moment he met the gaze of The Dark Lord.

"YOU! IT WAS YOU THE WHOLE TIME? YOU'RE THE DARK LORD? I SHOULD KILL YOU, YOU BASTARD!"

Vitiate looked at Cannon in shock. "You know this person?" he asked suspiciously. Cannon nodded. "This slimey sack of coalcoke is Arcifex. He's been a thorn in all of our sides since we came to Kilran," he said, looking at the iron-clad figure on the throne with disdain. The realization quickly hit Ned as well. "Hey... that IS Arcifex! Or at least someone in his armor," he said. Sam gasped. "Someone kill him!" he exclaimed as Cannon drew his blade.

Arcifex laughed and clapped his hands as he made a slow descent form his throne. "My old friends, it truly is good to see you again," he said, removing his spiked helm. "I knew from the moment you sold one of my dear friends those Apples, I would see you again. And now, here you are, together at last. And you've brought a friend! Who might you be, friend?"

"My name is Vitiate. You have something of ours that we would sorely like back."

"Ours, you say? Forgive me, but I don't remember hearing anything about a man named Vitiate being part of the brave quartet that slayed The Wild Emperor all those nights ago..."

Arcifex grimmed with smug satisfaction, delighted with himself that he'd been a step ahead of them the whole time. During the brief pause in conversation, however, something else caught his attention. Wrapped around his neck safely was the Amulet the Lords of Penance had told him about, gleaming brilliantly in stark contrast to the rest of his dark iron armor. The gem had an odd beauty to it; it shined an eerie purple and oozed a strange dark power that seemed to be the embodiment of chthonic power.

The Dark Lord looked curiously at Cannonwalker and the rest of the group. "Ah... you carry something else with you as well. Something dark. Something... ancient," he said with a wolfish grin. Now within feet of them, his eyes peered down to Cannon's blade, fascinated with its golden color and obvious immense power. "Oh, yes. The Blightsword. The slayer of legions. The favored blade of Herobrine, that is until it was so wrongfully taken from him."

Arcifex stalked around the group mischievously. "Herobrine was a good man, if he can be called a man. After serving under him for so long, it pained me ever so deeply when I heard that he'd been banished from this world," he said, clutching his chest melodramatically. "Oh, it almost brings a tear to my poor, poor eye. The only thing he left me... was this," Arcifex said, slowly and carefully drawing a great blade from his waist.

The room instantly felt colder and darker, as if all the warmth had been drained from it. Perplexed by the blade's power, Arcifex held it up triumphantly, revealing its shining golden cast. Like the Blightsword, the blade's base danced with enchanted power as if it could barely contain the immense energy stored within it. In shape, it was much more elegant than that of the Blightsword, appearing like a devilishly long katana with an obsidian handguard.

Time felt strangely warped as Arcifex drew closer with the blade, as if it had some sort of ability to warp the fabric of the realm. Its elegance and dark power was haunting. Arcifex smiled as he noticed the interest the group showed. "Remarkable, is it not? One of Herobrine's heirlooms, conceald for centuries and uncovered just to bestow upon his greatest officer. Its repertoire grows, and most of its names would mean nothing to us - but most identify it as Invidere. I've always had a sneaking suspicion that somewhere out in the world, a twin of sorts existed, and for years I've researched the arcane properties of the blade looking for any sign of tangible energy. But the power of the Celestials is... intangible," he explained. "Please, tell me you've used that old artifact for more than just smashing people's heads in. It can do so much more, you know..."

Arcifex cackled wildly and aimed the blade at Zoomer, causing him to shake wildly for a moment and then levitate harmlessly up in the air, incapable of moving even an inch as time was slowed around him. He allowed the shock to sink in for a moment before releasing him, sending him to the ground, still dazed. "Hmm. You may want to get that.. checked out," Arcifex taunted.

The group moved back in fear of what else The Dark Lord may be able to do. Instead, he simply reached into his pocket and retrieved a single Golden Apple, gazing upon it for a moment before taking a quick bite out of it. Vitiate looked with disdain, prompting him to chuckle. "You want this, don't you, thief? This is why you came, is it not? To steal back your precious prizes and use them to restore your precious God? Ah, but you don't look like a man of Notch. No, you look like a man with your own goal. A very personal agenda," he said, chuckling as he took another bite.

Vitiate knew the tales of the Golden Apples all too well. Even one of them could make a man powerful beyond belief. If this was his second, he had no idea how powerful he might have become. "I know a great deal, thief," he said, drawing back a few steps. "You see, I have been fortifying. Preparing for what lies ahead. My minions watch over my city. They watch over my realm. My forces... are building. My army is laying in wait. I know what is to come. I know what is rising...

Death."

Vitiate drew his dagger and pointed it at Arcifex, poised to attack. Sam drew his enchanted bow in turn, knocking an arrow into place. Ned, freshly armed, drew a diamond and iron sword and aimed them both at the figure before him. Finally, they were joined by Cannonwalker, whose blade began to shake to life as it sensed its brother. The Dark Lord cackled once more and disappeared into a cloud of smoke and reappeared behind them just as quickly, launching a wave of dark energy at the group. Shaken by the blast, Zoomer joined in the battle as well, drawing a rapier that none of them realized he had been carrying. "Come! Embrace death!" Arcifex yelled, charging at the heroes.

Instantly, Arcifex locked blades with Cannonwalker, the Invidere and the Blightsword colliding with great force with the impact producing a wave of bright red sparks. Neither blade budged, causing Arcifex to fall back for a moment and expose himself to Sam's bow, all but one of the ensuing arrows missing him. The arrow met his chest, and although he gave a quick grunt, he didn't appear to be harmed. Ned charged in, first striking with his iron sword and blocking the parry with his diamond, saved from the death blow only by Zoomer's intervetion. The two of them engaged in open combat for a few moments, their blades repeatedly crashing together in a flurry of strikes before the Invidere sliced clean through Zoomer's repair, cutting it in half and stumbling Zoomer back with a wave of blazing hot sparks that singed his arm.

Vitiate leapt behind him and attempting to stab Arcifex in the back, the latter narrowly blocking his attacker's dagger strikes with the Invidere's unrelenting protection. Not wishing to foolishly clash blades with his target, Vitiate dashed to his side and struck him with lightning fast speed and repeated the process for several moments with each strike coming centimeters closer to meeting Arcifex's stomach. When the rogue's dagger inevitably met the side of his stomach, he was hardly able to scream in pain before yet another arrow met his backside, opening him up for another one of Cannon's enchanted blows.

The Blightsword sliced across his lower chest, causing him to temporarily burst into flames before being extinguished, now seething with anger. Cannon charged in again, his blows quickly dodged by Arcifex before raising his blade to send him hopelessly into the air, allowing him to return his attention to Sam. Quickly, he attempted to knock another arrow, but Arcifex performed an open slash that only just met the center of the bow, instantly disintegrating it into flames and washing away all of its enchantments.

Sam darted to the edge of the room and hid behind one of the grand pillars. Attempting to finish him off, Arcifex sprinted after him only to have a piece of sharp metal lodged in his back - a throwing knife, produced from Vitiate's utility belt. The anger caused him to lose focus, lifting the curse on Cannonwalker and allowing him to walk on his own two legs once more.

The rogue sprinted at Arcifex even quicker, throwing another series of knives at him and chinking his armor with each hit. The Dark Lord swung around and slashed at Vitiate, who elegantly ducked just below the blade and slid to safety behind another pillar. Arcifex grunted then began laughing again, carelessly removing each thrown knife from his armor. "You think you can kill ME? A GOD? I HAVE THE POWER OF A CELESTIAL IN MY HANDS, BOY! AND I WILL SLAY YOU JUST AS I SLAYED SO MANY OTHERS!" he yelled.

Cannon, quick as he was, could not run to the other side of the room quick enough to stop the attack. He didn't have a bow, and Zoomer was still reeling in pain from the fiery blow. He had to think of something...

''Please, tell me you've used that old artifact for more than just smashing heads in. It can do so much more, you know...''

Without thinking, Cannon aimed the Blightsword directly at Arcifex and allowed its darkness to consume him, and in turn, empower the blade. For a mere moment, it shined like Invidere did, and just as the blade began to sizzle with heat, an overwhelming flash of light appeared in the other end of the room directly on top of his target, smashing several pillars to pieces and blowing a large hole in the roof. As it happened, the blade was good for more than just headsmashing... the very blade held the power of the Gods. Lightning.

Arcifex fell to his knees and dropped the shining golden blade, emanating waves of gray smoke, his armor completely melted. "What... sorcery... is THIS?!" he wailed. As the others looked in awe, Vitiate ran from behind the crumbling pillar and snatched up the blade, slicing Arcifex through the chest and quickly throwing a knife at his throat for good measure. His face filled with shock, and then was wiped of any expression at all. The Dark Lord fell to the ground, the stink of death coming off of him. He had been utterly eradicated.

The temple began to shake, the massive damage done to it causing it to finally buckle over after standing for thousands of years. "The temple is coming apart... we have to grab the apples and leave, quickly!" Vitiate exclaimed as he stowed the Invidere away, running towards the display pedestals on the other side of the room. Each person grabbed their share and stowed them away quickly before making a run for the exit. A stray piece of debris fell from the ceiling and nearly crushed Zoomer, prompting Cannon to push him out of the way and quickly helped him up. The five of them leapt from the exit in the nick of time as the entirety of it came down, collapsing on itself. The beacons atop the temple faded as their inner workings were destroyed. Nox had fallen.

The group expected resistance from the Orcs, but found none. Instead, the few of them outside the temple simply stared in awe as it collapsed, never moving, never blinking. As the group walked directly in front of them, they paid them no attention, their minds seemingly destroyed. Of course - Arcifex had been controlling their individuality, nay, their entire thought process. There was nothing left of them now.

"What's our exit route again?" Ned asked.

"The same way we got out."

Chapter 9 - Fall
to be continued...