Hey everyone, this is the first short story I've ever done (Based on a game that is), so comments and advice are appreciated. Side note, the hyphens in the title are placeholders. I'm not really sure what I want to put there, right now I'm torn between "Saves" and "Dooms" although, as it goes along if any of you have a better idea for a title, feel free to speak up. As for the slight, "plot hole" regarding the fact that there is a journal entry in the prologue before he was even on the island, this was a different journal completely lost to the waves. And, the narrator of the story put it in the story purely from memory as to provide background.
When something is underlined, that means I have decided against putting it in the story. The (text in parenthesis) following it will be what I have replaced it with.
Prologue - Some time in June 1756.
I read over the letter again. And for what felt like the eightieth time went over my options. I could either go on this foolhardy journey to the new world and set up a new life for myself in the colonies; or, I could sit her and rot in this stagnant pool of filth Great Britain has come. I shall decide the fate for the rest of my life on the morrow.
I have made my decision on the matter. I shall risk it all and go to the Newfoundland to start my new life. Today I shall board the ship.
The ship is tossing and turning in this dreadful storm I have not written in many days and I fear this might be the last time I ever do.
Day 1
The sound of the waves, the smell of salt, and... the mooing of a cow? These were the things I woke up to this morning. Groggily, I dragged myself to my feet and opened my still sleeping eyes. What I saw, shocked me.
I appeared to be on a small island, part of the surrounding archipelago. In the center of my island was a mountain, its peak arcing high above the clouds. This wasn't what had shocked me though, what shocked me, was the appearance of the world around me. It was blocky! Everything, the sand, the dirt, even the cows were cuboid in nature! After I had gotten used to this, I surveyed my surroundings. A way down the beach I saw a crudely made leather pack. As I walked down the beach towards it, I began to ponder about my arrival here. I remember that I was taking a plane to Hawaii to visit the folks (ship to the Newfoundland), a white flash; then, nothing. I decided I could figure out how I got here later. Right now my main priority was survival.
I reached the pack and fumbled, trying to open the latch. When I had finally opened the bag this journal tumbled out. The only other thing in the bag was a small square labeled "Crafting" which was divided into four equal sections. I opened the journal to find some of its pages torn out and a pre-written entry in it. That entry follows:
Day 97
I finished my trek through the underworld with minimum harm. Perhaps I'll be safe here. I quickly destroyed my portal so HE could not follow me. As I've done so many times it's second nature, I beat down a nearby tree with my fists and using the log, quickly crafted a workbench using my pack, and prepared some tools to protect myself from the creatures of the night. Currently, I am taking a break, in the process of setting up my base. I hear a pig outside and I am going to slaughter it so hopefully I may have some sustenance before resting for the night. Before I go I want to once again state, if someone else is reading this, whatever you do DON'T ever trust a man named<The remainder of the entry was torn out of the journal.>
Back to Day 1
As I finished reading the entry, I realized with a shock, how deep into trouble I was. I decided to do as I read in the journal and attempt to craft some tools. After chopping down some trees, and playing around with the crafting square, I soon had made a crafting bench which was similar to the square; although, it was 3x3 instead of 2x2. I then crafted a sword, pickaxe, and shovel out of wood. After searching for a shelter, I eventually decided on a small cave in the mountain. I boarded up the entrance with some planks, then using some sticks and coal I had found I proceeded to craft some torches to place around my cave and light the place up a bit. I was certainly glad I did as I most likely would have gone mad as the sound of the undead filled my ears and I went to sleep.
Day 2
I woke from what seemed to be, but a few minutes of sleep. Truth be told, it probably was. All night, the growls and screeches of the creatures outside had broken through the thin wall of planks I had placed in the entrance to my abode in this cave. As I pulled down a few planks and exited the cave, I heard a hissing from behind me. Something deep and primal in my brain awoke telling me to run. As I took off I managed to catch the barest glimpse of something behind me before the hissing stopped with a large explosion launching me into a nearby pond. Climbing out of the pond, I saw many of the same animals I had seen the day before chickens, cows, pigs, and sheep, but I also saw what seemed to be two bow-wielding skeletons and a zombie. All three apparently on fire in the morning light. Nearby was a giant spider coming slowly closer to me, pulling out my stone sword (from a night's worth of expanding my cave) I readied myself for a fight. The spider though, wasn't coming to fight apparently and just walked by ignoring me. It was about this time, I believe, that I realized I was famished. Walking towards a nearby pig I pulled out my sword and slaughtered the pig. Its body disappeared in a puff of smoke and what seemed to be a raw pork-chop fell to the ground. Curiously I picked it up and took it back to my cave. Placing it in my furnace (made from a night of experimenting with the crafting bench) with a bit of wood to fuel it, I waited for my breakfast to finish cooking. While I ate, I pondered how I would spend my day, eventually deciding on building up the defenses around my living area so I might venture out at night without needing fear the creatures of the night and any natives of the island there might be. After spending all the first half of the day procuring lumber and planting the saplings, I found doing so in rows outside the entrance to my cave, I spent the remainder of the gathering cobblestone and building a twelve foot wall surrounding the entrance to the place I have come to call home. After lighting up the area I began to
That's all for now folks. Your constructive criticism and comments are appreciated, so please let me know what I should improve.
The sound of the waves, the smell of salt, and... the mooing of a cow? These were the things I woke up to this morning. Groggily, I dragged myself to my feet and opened my still sleeping eyes. What I saw, shocked me.
This is what kills 90% of the stories out there.
Please refrain from writing anything about a person waking up on a beach.
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The sound of the waves, the smell of salt, and... the mooing of a cow? These were the things I woke up to this morning. Groggily, I dragged myself to my feet and opened my still sleeping eyes. What I saw, shocked me.
This is what kills 90% of the stories out there.
Please refrain from writing anything about a person waking up on a beach.
Yes, I know it is a tad cliche, but that is pretty much how you start out in Minecraft, other than the occasional desert spawn location that is. Thanks for the tip though, I get where you're coming from, and I will attempt to avoid cliches later in the story, but there may be the occasional one that I feel is necessary.
On a side note, I tend to use more of a British-English spelling style. So if I say armour, colour, grey, or something else of that nature, I am not misspelling, I just tend to style my writing that way.
No. I am strongly against the use of Herobrine in a story. There will be NO references to Herobrine. Once again, I plan on using as few cliches as possible. Who "HE" actually is I can't give away without ruining the plot, but I will say that is neither Notch or Herobrine.
No. I am strongly against the use of Herobrine in a story. There will be NO references to Herobrine. Once again, I plan on using as few cliches as possible. Who "HE" actually is I can't give away without ruining the plot, but I will say that is neither Notch or Herobrine.
Alright mate =D
That sure took away a huge stone from my soul
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Like stories of action, drama, romance, and redemption? Click:
First post edited. Added a prologue and will soon add a few more days to the story. Sorry I have not been updating as often as I like I have been sick and not in the mood to write. As usual I appreciate your comments and constructive criticisms would be appreciated.
When something is underlined, that means I have decided against putting it in the story. The (text in parenthesis) following it will be what I have replaced it with.
Prologue - Some time in June 1756.
I read over the letter again. And for what felt like the eightieth time went over my options. I could either go on this foolhardy journey to the new world and set up a new life for myself in the colonies; or, I could sit her and rot in this stagnant pool of filth Great Britain has come. I shall decide the fate for the rest of my life on the morrow.
I have made my decision on the matter. I shall risk it all and go to the Newfoundland to start my new life. Today I shall board the ship.
The ship is tossing and turning in this dreadful storm I have not written in many days and I fear this might be the last time I ever do.
Day 1
The sound of the waves, the smell of salt, and... the mooing of a cow? These were the things I woke up to this morning. Groggily, I dragged myself to my feet and opened my still sleeping eyes. What I saw, shocked me.
I appeared to be on a small island, part of the surrounding archipelago. In the center of my island was a mountain, its peak arcing high above the clouds. This wasn't what had shocked me though, what shocked me, was the appearance of the world around me. It was blocky! Everything, the sand, the dirt, even the cows were cuboid in nature! After I had gotten used to this, I surveyed my surroundings. A way down the beach I saw a crudely made leather pack. As I walked down the beach towards it, I began to ponder about my arrival here. I remember that I was taking a plane to Hawaii to visit the folks (ship to the Newfoundland), a white flash; then, nothing. I decided I could figure out how I got here later. Right now my main priority was survival.
I reached the pack and fumbled, trying to open the latch. When I had finally opened the bag this journal tumbled out. The only other thing in the bag was a small square labeled "Crafting" which was divided into four equal sections. I opened the journal to find some of its pages torn out and a pre-written entry in it. That entry follows:
Day 97
I finished my trek through the underworld with minimum harm. Perhaps I'll be safe here. I quickly destroyed my portal so HE could not follow me. As I've done so many times it's second nature, I beat down a nearby tree with my fists and using the log, quickly crafted a workbench using my pack, and prepared some tools to protect myself from the creatures of the night. Currently, I am taking a break, in the process of setting up my base. I hear a pig outside and I am going to slaughter it so hopefully I may have some sustenance before resting for the night. Before I go I want to once again state, if someone else is reading this, whatever you do DON'T ever trust a man named<The remainder of the entry was torn out of the journal.>
Back to Day 1
As I finished reading the entry, I realized with a shock, how deep into trouble I was. I decided to do as I read in the journal and attempt to craft some tools. After chopping down some trees, and playing around with the crafting square, I soon had made a crafting bench which was similar to the square; although, it was 3x3 instead of 2x2. I then crafted a sword, pickaxe, and shovel out of wood. After searching for a shelter, I eventually decided on a small cave in the mountain. I boarded up the entrance with some planks, then using some sticks and coal I had found I proceeded to craft some torches to place around my cave and light the place up a bit. I was certainly glad I did as I most likely would have gone mad as the sound of the undead filled my ears and I went to sleep.
Day 2
I woke from what seemed to be, but a few minutes of sleep. Truth be told, it probably was. All night, the growls and screeches of the creatures outside had broken through the thin wall of planks I had placed in the entrance to my abode in this cave. As I pulled down a few planks and exited the cave, I heard a hissing from behind me. Something deep and primal in my brain awoke telling me to run. As I took off I managed to catch the barest glimpse of something behind me before the hissing stopped with a large explosion launching me into a nearby pond. Climbing out of the pond, I saw many of the same animals I had seen the day before chickens, cows, pigs, and sheep, but I also saw what seemed to be two bow-wielding skeletons and a zombie. All three apparently on fire in the morning light. Nearby was a giant spider coming slowly closer to me, pulling out my stone sword (from a night's worth of expanding my cave) I readied myself for a fight. The spider though, wasn't coming to fight apparently and just walked by ignoring me. It was about this time, I believe, that I realized I was famished. Walking towards a nearby pig I pulled out my sword and slaughtered the pig. Its body disappeared in a puff of smoke and what seemed to be a raw pork-chop fell to the ground. Curiously I picked it up and took it back to my cave. Placing it in my furnace (made from a night of experimenting with the crafting bench) with a bit of wood to fuel it, I waited for my breakfast to finish cooking. While I ate, I pondered how I would spend my day, eventually deciding on building up the defenses around my living area so I might venture out at night without needing fear the creatures of the night and any natives of the island there might be. After spending all the first half of the day procuring lumber and planting the saplings, I found doing so in rows outside the entrance to my cave, I spent the remainder of the gathering cobblestone and building a twelve foot wall surrounding the entrance to the place I have come to call home. After lighting up the area I began to
That's all for now folks. Your constructive criticism and comments are appreciated, so please let me know what I should improve.
This is what kills 90% of the stories out there.
Please refrain from writing anything about a person waking up on a beach.
Yes, I know it is a tad cliche, but that is pretty much how you start out in Minecraft, other than the occasional desert spawn location that is. Thanks for the tip though, I get where you're coming from, and I will attempt to avoid cliches later in the story, but there may be the occasional one that I feel is necessary.
On a side note, I tend to use more of a British-English spelling style. So if I say armour, colour, grey, or something else of that nature, I am not misspelling, I just tend to style my writing that way.
Let me guess. Herobrine?
sigh
No. I am strongly against the use of Herobrine in a story. There will be NO references to Herobrine. Once again, I plan on using as few cliches as possible. Who "HE" actually is I can't give away without ruining the plot, but I will say that is neither Notch or Herobrine.
Alright mate =D
That sure took away a huge stone from my soul