• 4

    posted a message on 1.6.4 what in gods name is dis
    He no longer develops. Notch still owns Mojang and all games made by Mojang AB.
    Posted in: Recent Updates and Snapshots
  • 2

    posted a message on Best Minecrafter Ever
    Me, because humans are Cthulhu.


    Yes they are.
    Posted in: Discussion
  • 2

    posted a message on Team Evil - A Story that pictures Herobrine from a different angle (Necromancy is useful for puttin out Chapter 4. This is not D
    Herobrine does not exist, never has and never will.

    Ah Hello and greetings, I proudly present to you my first fanfic. As said in the title, this story pictures Herobrine from a completely different angle.
    The idea for this story came to me while watching the Animation "Gods don't bleed", from dillongoo. This guy made the BEST fighting scene in all of Minecraft :

    I would also like to add that scythes are awesome !1!

    I hope you like it.Or else my lil' friend behind me will visit ya ;) !
    Also, point out any spelling/grammar errors I might do. I will fix them. Or you can give feedback. Or hate it. Or,or,or ..... sniff sniff.... (cries in a corner for no apparent reasons).

    Ahm yes xcuse me.


    He would have preferred not to do this.
    Murdering his lord, the entity he admired and hated the most.But if he didn’t do it, his reign would cost many more lives.
    Even though his lord was a lord of monsters and savage beasts, his minions did have souls of their own. A mortal soul. Forever lost if they died. And with his current way to rule, many would fall. His kind too…
    No, it must be done. For the good of all Monsters. It had to be done. It was necessary. And his faults had already taken away many from his people.No, he had to pay for this. He had to free them of this blind fool, that enjoyed eating cookies more than he cared about his responsibility he owed to them.

    Gripping his scythe with a sudden anger, the Enderman made its way to the part of the castle Herobrine lived in.

    Wasn’t it his fault that he lost the ability to teleport ?
    Wasn’t it his fault that his right eye was blinded by a swordstrike ?
    Yes, it was. And he would pay for everything. And he would pay now!

    Plain agony. It consumed every thought. Every second. It swallowed him.
    He tried to move. A spike of pain shot up from where his stomach had to be.
    It would be so inviting, so nice to follow the invitation of sweet unconsciousness.
    "NO!” a voice shouted. “Get up and move. I didn’t help you stand through this so you can die just before your destination.” it demanded.
    “Leave me alone!” I responded.
    “Who are you even ? What destination ? Standing through what ? And why does my stomach hurt so badly ?”

    “You want to know who I am ?” The voice chuckled. “ Hahaha, YOU of all people should know me best! But I suppose Balance is doing his old tricks again. Well then Herobrine, I am your brother, Notch.”
    I remembered when he told me. I remembered my brother’s name, I remembered my name.
    Herobrine. The ultimate evil, master of nightmares, destroyer of sanity, manifestation of fear and Lord of Monsters.
    I also remembered that my brother was an annoying moron, always playing the good guy,snatching away the feeling of success, if one of my ideas to bring evil over the world worked!

    Always gnawing on my plans making them useless, embarrassing me all the time and smashing them into pieces with his so called heroes.Everyone of his heroes was named Steve, and if this lack of fantasy wasn’t enough, me being defeated by these mindless idiots who didn’t even understood my reasons definitely was.

    “Notch !” I screamed angrily. “ Why the Hell and Nether are you intruding my comatose dreams ? Why do you even help me , and why are you speaking about destinations and stuff ? I AM NOT ONE OF YOUR PATHETIC HEROES THAT GOES ON A QUEST TO DEFEAT EVIL !!!” I now was really mad.
    “Sorry bro, It’s a habit you know ? But about that quest thingy you are raging about : you really are kinda , well, on a quest to defeat evil.” He answered.
    In return, I said grumpy: “You do know that I AM evil, right ?” I asked. “So with that logic I would be rather on a quest to defeat good, and we both know that you are the last person to help me with that, right ?”

    “Yes we are.” My brother responded. “So, may you please be quiet whilst I go on with my miraculous speech. Otherwise Master Balance will cut short my salary. So where was I ?”

    “You stopped at the part where you admitted that I am just way more awesome in any way than you could ever be.” I suggested, slowly getting annoyed by this. “Or you could skip to the part where you answer me why my stomach is getting eaten by acid.”

    “You were always impatient and very … narcissistic. But anyways, let us continue, shall we ?”

    “Absolutely not.”

    “Ah there is my script!” He sounded like he began reading off of a sheet of paper. I should also mention that he sounded extremely bored.

    “Valiant Hero blahblah etc. etc. my name is Notch, your brother and so forth. You’ve been overthrown by your personal bodyguard, an Enderman with a scar on his right eye. He always carrys a scary looking scythe, and is now that you are supposedly dead, in charge of all your former minions including skeletons, zombies and so forth rhabarber. His skin color is of a very dark, no, pure black. By the way, your stomach has been impaled by the scythe's blade. Too bad you are immortal and didn't die. Whatever, to aid you on your quest, I have chosen a companion for you. He is a Mad Scientist. Wears a white lab coat, red goggles, eye color unknown, 2,05 metres tall, haircolor grey, 23 years old. You find him in the building that you will see at your left when you wake up. His name is Tonton.
    I should also add, that he is, like you, very sarcastic. You’ll get along nicely, although I don’t hope you do - “

    A plan had begun to form in my mind. A plan, how to entertain myself a bit.

    “Little brother” I interrupted him, “I know how hard it is for you to accomplish such challenging tasks as reading stuff from a script, hell, even just being able to read ! But you really have to work on your narrating skills! I lost you at somewhere around “Valiant Hero”, due to your lack of an understandable voice. Although, that is a nice compliment.”

    “Herobrine !” Notch warned, “Herobrine, shut up and listen to me! And stop mocking me. Now let me finish.”

    He continued talking, I continued not listening.

    If I knew what I was up to, I would have.

    Notch came to an end “It is important that you remember all this, or the World is doomed.”

    According to his voice, he couldn’t have cared less about it.
    “Oh before I forget it” he added “ I hate you, die in a fire.”

    “Now what a nice ending that is ! I return all your good wishes, Notch”

    “Be quiet and wake up, Herobrine!” he said with a bit of anger in his voice.

    “But I want to sleep another, like 1000 years.”

    “Herobrine…” He definitely was angry now.

    “I would check on your apple tree.” I answered, with an evil grin. “The one that grows golden apples. I think I may have set it on fire. Accidently, you know…”

    “You did what?” he asked. His head now looked like it has been soaked in Redstone dust. “You did what?! HEROBRINE YOU TROLL !”

    But I was fading away, leaving behind my raging brother. If my stomach wouldn’t have hurt so badly, I would’ve laughed my head off.

    When I woke up, I almost blacked out again from the pain. I waited until I could see clearly again.
    Tears had filled my eyes. I tried to get a better look at my body. Then I saw the injury.

    Well, calling it injury would be an understatement. Notch had mentioned that this illoyal enderman had stabbed me with his scythe.
    Seeing it now, It seemed like he had been slashing at my whole chest.
    Knowing the temperament and fury of the endermen, he probably did.
    It really was a horrible sight, even for me, and I was used to ripping off heads from cute, innocent humans all the time!
    My upper body was basically one giant wound. My ribs were pulverized, my liver torn to pieces, my heart shredded and half of my intestines were apparently missing. Not to mention that my spine has been cut into three. It wasn’t the most appetizing thing.
    I managed to groan. It would take months for my regenerative abilities to fix this all up. But for that I needed to eat.
    Managing to get hungry with a crushed stomach. That was my kind of luck, alright.
    First things first, I reminded myself.
    Get healed up enough to be able to walk, find this Mad Scientist that was supposed to help me, eat something, return to your kingdom, retrieve your throne and listen to a concert of tortured enderman screams, preferably b-flat.

    That was a good plan.

    I summoned all my concentration to close the gaping hole in my chest. After that I repaired my spine as good as I could. The result was rather moderate. My intestines were still agonizing me to the point of paralysis, and I looked like I had the biggest humpback in existence. It would have to be enough, until I had the time to do better.

    So far, so good. I checked my surroundings. It seemed like I had been washed ashore.
    I thought of what my brother had said. My help would be to my left. I turned this direction, to see what looked like a warehouse.
    What kind of Mad Scientist would live in a warehouse at the beach ?
    I hoped that he was one of these Mad Scientist who tried to get world domination, not like those nice old men that helped the good guys with crazy-mad gadgets.

    Stop right there! I live on an island in an archipel that is still in medieval age! Why do I know what a Mad Scientist is ? WHY do I know what the medieval age is ? Why do I know what TV means ?! Why am I asking these questions ?

    I felt confused. Someone or something was messing with my mind, giving me memories of things I have never heard of. And I had the feeling that I knew this someone.

    “Master Balance !” I exclaimed.

    “Indeed, it is me that is giving you the knowledge about this world” Balance answered.
    His voice didn’t sound high or low, not loud or silent, neither tired nor full of energy. It sounded, well, balanced. And old. Age old.

    I think I should explain who Balance exactly is. He is Notch’s and my employer, The spirit of balance and the oldest being in the World. Also, the most powerless. To have at least some influence, he created me and my brother. We do his biddings, in exchange for the secret of immortality and magic (and NO , I am NOT going to tell you what it is. I have been fooled way too many times into that. Who am I, Notch ?) He is not good and not evil, he just looks that everything is going the way it should be. I never ask about why he does it, I am just happy to do what I enjoy most. That is, being a diabolic villain.

    “Master Balance, I know you have your reasons, but why am I here, stuck who knows where and half dead ?”

    “To teach you a lesson, Ar’Ubrinai. You where always very reliable, but lately you showed no responsibility to your minions.”

    Here we go again.
    You don’t know what Ar’Ubrinai means , do you ? Would be surprised if you did.

    It is a name in oldest language in the world, called "The First Words".
    Now Ar’Ubrinai means as much as “Star Eye”.
    It is the name I have been given by Balance, but through all the years it slowly became Herobrine.

    “May be, but I am supposed to be evil, right ?”

    “Ar'Ubrinai, there is a big difference between being a bad person and being a shortsighted idiot ! It was just a matter of time before someone had enough of you and would try to replace you with a better ruler. With success, as you might have noticed.”

    He was right.

    Balance continued with his moral lecture :”I will not help you or speak with you until you retrieved your throne. I also erased parts of your memory, so you actually learn to use your brain. But I chose the best help you could wish for. Now go and meet him ! Farewell Ar’Ubrinai.”

    I could sense he was gone.

    I had no other option than to do what Balance told me.
    Walking was almost impossible, but I’ve been through things more rough.

    Like the one time I got decapitated (by Steve), or the one time my castle ceiling fell on top of me ( because Steve blew it up with TNT) or the one time I fell in lava (because Steve threw me in).

    I finally reached the entrance of the warehouse. It was wide open. If my mind had been clear, I would have seen the trap coming. But I didn’t. Instead, I smelled the best cake that I ever had the pleasure to smell. Everything else was irrelevant. I entered, and soon found the cake.

    It stood on a small steel table. That were the good news. The bad news were wearing a white lab coat and were whacking something with a screwdriver, whistling the Main Theme of LoTR (another strange detail that I remembered).
    But that didn’t interest me. The cake did , though. I reached for the baked good, when suddenly the Mad Scientist turned around and mentioned in a casually tone :” Surprise ! The cake is a lie !”

    And then, a bright red boxing glove hit me in the face.

    Tonton was very content. He almost finished his new invention, a somewhat portable sound cannon that could be adjusted to various strengths, like slight queasiness, stunning, K.O and of course the mandatory, blowing up skulls.
    Adding on to that, he even managed to get a test subject from his cake trap. The cake had been baked in a special oven that increased the taste and the flavor of his products by more than 4 times. No one could resist that. He allowed himself a little smile.

    “Now what do we have ourselves gotten here ?” spoke the Mad Scientist, as he examined the body of his victim.
    He looked pretty beat up.
    In fact, he looked like he’d been thrown into a mincer.

    Tonton looked closer. Now he saw, that someone had slashed at the guy’s upper body with a sword.

    “Or a scythe…” a voice in his head said. “Of course not, personality 057. Nobody uses scythes to attack someone !” he answered. This schizophrenia was sometimes really annoying.

    Whatever he had been through, it didn’t matter to him. Tonton had to test his newest invention.
    First though, the man needed to be fixed up.

    “Surgical Roboter Unit 001, I want a full listing of which injuries this person has received, as well as a simulation, in film and in writing how he did. Now begin !”

    A spider like robot with a wide variety of medicinal gear attached to his body came out of the many shadows in the not so well lit house. It grabbed the man with a pair of pliers and pulled him to an OP room. The robot attached the man to an operation table and began checking blood pressure, heartbeat and the outside wounds and scratches.
    Tonton watched it do his work. It was one of the first medical robots he invented, but still working like on the day he built it.
    “Such a precise machine, and I created it.” He thought.
    “Now back to work !” He chided himself.

    I awoke to the sound of spider feets clacking on the ground. At the first moment, I thought I was still in my castle.
    I was not.

    A tall figure loomed over me.
    The Mad Scientist Tonton, who was supposed to help me. Not much of a help yet.

    Before, I didn’t take the time to look at him closely, but now I was seeing that he was indeed tall and slender.He was wearing black boots and black gloves, made of latex. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of giant red goggles that emitted a light glow. He wore a long, white lab coat and white lab pants (Is that a word ? Lab pants … maybe).

    “This guy reminds me of an Enderman”
    It freaked me a bit out. When I tried to move, I discovered that I was tied to a small OP table. Tonton now noticed that I was awake and stared into my eyes. I stared back, hoping that my ghostly white glowing eyes would scare him. He didn’t move one inch.

    “Interesting, very interesting ! Unit 001 was right.” He spoke with a weird English accent that almost sounded forced. His voice though was ice cold. The voice of a man that decided with logic and through calculation.

    He suddenly took out some kind of lamp and shone me in the eyes.
    “No pupils, everything indicates that you are blind. But you are not. How is this possible ?”
    I didn’t respond , I couldn’t : my tongue was very dry.

    “Oh, I forgot. You are probably thirsty. Well then, have some water.” He gave me a glass.
    I drank it quickly.

    “Now, could you answer my question, please ?”
    “No”, I said.

    “Those are no manners ! Especially after I saved your life. True, I wanted to test my newest invention on you but still !” he sounded shocked.

    “I appreciate you helping me, but I can not die, so I do not owe you anything.” As soon as I said these words I wanted to punch myself. Saying that I was immortal ? How dumb am I !?

    “How very intriguing !” Tonton exclaimed ! “A man with white glowing eyes and hybris. May my worthless being atleast know your name,oh grand emperor of the heavens ?”

    “Emperor of the heavens ! Are you trying to insult me ?” I shouted. “I am Darkness, Despair, Fear, Contempt, Grief and Lord all in once ! I am many things, but certainly not from the heavens. And, no, thy despicable entity may not know my name.”

    “Now you are getting unfair.” He sounded amused. “Well, your high Darkness and so on, if you don’t immediately answer my questions, I am going to test my newest invention on you. Full-scale !”
    “I thought thou would test it anyways at me ?” I threw back at him.

    “Of course, but it adds to the drama this story must create to unfold properly.” he finfished.

    “Would you atleast free me of these bonds ?” I asked politely. I didn’t expect him to fall for this but he did. As soon as he loosened cords, I grabbed for his throat.
    His reaction was almost at the speed of light.
    “OUCH!” I screamed. Tonton held my left hand in a weird way. It hurt like hell.

    “I would be incredibly pleased if you would discontinue your pathetic try to flee my testing area. You are a particularly interesting subject and I still have so many inventions to try out. See you then.”

    „He is still alive!“
    „No he is not! Nobody could survive that. I ripped his organs apart.“
    „He is Herobrine. Ar’Ubrinai. The star eye. Immortal! And out for revenge…“
    „He can not harm you. You are now Lord of all Monsters! You command them.“
    „But what I did… He is my Lord, still my Lord! I vowed to protect him and now I am the one to kill him.“
    „He deserves it. Didn’t he let the humans grow strong enough to kill The Enderdragon? Didn’t he let the humans grow strong enough to pose a threat to The Endermen, a threat to extinct your kind ?
    It was his job to not to. Instead he eats cookies!“
    „Yes, yes you are right! And if he is still alive and coming, my monsters will dispose of him like the junk he is. Herobrine didn’t fight any strong enemy in a long time, he is rusty!“
    Void unsheathed his scythe. A three metres long hilt made of the metallic rods of a blaze, and cooled down in the eternal cold of the End,leather strips wrapping it up to give a better grip.
    The blade forged from Soul silver, looming over its victims, making their last sight a true Nightmare.
    He was not unarmed. The scythe could do much more than cut into flesh and decapitate everything he wanted. It was much more than a usual weapon.
    It was the scythe that gave him his Name. His true name: Vothir’Oid Scythra’krol.

    He walked out onto the balcony that was attached to the throne room.
    „Hear me, Monsters! Enaitri’or Makhinkol!

    Herobrine is on his way to this island! When he arrives, make sure to give him a welcoming that he never will forget!
    Ar’Ubrinai allir’it-it idleun tei-tor wigraru! Cantomt aknoerem’it satuit’int it-dearo kinen var-amerau!“

    „How nice that we came to an agreement. I always enjoy making deals with me!“
    Posted in: Literature
  • 1

    posted a message on (Character Apps) Back to the Cave game: A tale about quests, villains and beaurocratic debacles, aswell as saving the world (Cha
    Hello, and welcome to the tale about quests, villains and beaurocratic debacles. I am MadScientist, your generous host. Worship me, NAOW!

    Also, please note that Herobrine does not exist. AND NEVER WILL EXIST. AND NEVER HAS.

    Factions in "Back to the Cavegame"

    The Notchly Department:

    The Notchly Department is the secret beaurocratic administrative body of Minecraftia, under the leadership of ???. The Notchly Department for Epic Quests Ages 11-21 is a subsection of this administrative body that distributes quests all over Minecraftia. Sir Fertig is employed here.

    Character applications and things that must be noted in connection with that

    Once you apply a character, I, and only I decide if it gets accepted. To accept a character, he must fit in this story, the application must be written with a minimal amount of grammar (punctuation and not-1337speak), and I must like him. Once the character gets accepted, I can let him die by the purple flu if I want to, you loose all rights fir that character. You may suggest what he does, but it is ultimately me that writes this story, understood? Furthermore, I reserve the right to cap character applications if the characters reach an unset limit (my decision) or if people whine about me not accepting characters. Understood? Thank you.

    Appearance: (must be written in a way that I can picture him before my eyes. He wears a green shirt does not suffice. Is it grassgreen, are there any damaged parts, is there something depicted on the shirt)
    Bio: (please write as exact as you can)
    Profession: (what does he do)
    Gear: (may be anything from a minigun that shoots purple ten-ton hippos (will not be accepted, I don't want assault rifles and the likes) to an ordinary sword.)
    Moral orientation: Good or Evil or Neutral (neutral characters will help both sides/ be not helpful to both sides. A neutral character should have a reason to be neutral, he should be a Han Solo so to speak.)

    Legal things

    Minecraft is property of Mojang AB
    I do not own Minecraft, although I claim ownership of this fanfiction and all characters in it.
    This story isn't affiliated with Back to the Future in the slightest.
    Have a good day.

    Now, here comes the story, but first a quote for no reason: "Beaurocracy fixes problems beaurocracy caused." (I do not have negative feelings towards beaurocracy).


    Chapter 1: In which weirdness happens and I forget to write a prologue.

    The forest was dark. The branches and twigs of the many, many trees intertwined, creating a roof that blocked out even the small amount of light the stars and the moon may have provided. I could hear the zombies groan in the distance, thankfully. There would be zombies no matter what, so hearing them would give me an advantage, if they did find me.

    I suffer from somnambulia. You know it probably better under the name sleepwalking. I actually am a very heavy case, I once ended up 500 metres away from my house.
    But this forest, I have never seen. I could be anywhere, from the farlands up to my house. I had no idea how I should find back.
    Then I turned around, and things escalated. Behind me was an Enderman. A prime-example of an Enderman. Three and a half metres tall, skin like obsidian, so slender, he could have fit through my room's window (which is really quite small), these creepy overly long limbs, the feets that ended in tips, the hands with the three claws, with edges that outmatched that of a razor. The mouth with these unnaturaly sharp teeth, needles moreso, that looked like a wound rather than something a living being would have. But the scariest were those unnerving, bleak, purple eyes. They knew things humans shouldn't see, and had this cruel, unorganic glimmer in it. The worst is that they try to kill you once look at them.

    You probably expect me to have an epic battle to the death with this dark reaper of the night, this harbinger of the void, this ambassador of bad stuff and yadda yadda. I didn't though, which people may view as a tragic mishappening of fate, that these sharp claws would probably tear my insides out. Which did not happen, otherwise I wouldn't be telling you this. That was for various reasons, valid and logical reasons I assure you. Maybe not logical. The first was, that I am about 14 years and a couple months old and didn't have anything resembling a weapon in the slightest, and the second, that this Enderman didn't mind being stared at. How did I know?

    He was wearing a snow white tuxedo with a bright red scarf. A tuxedo, for Notchs sake. A snow white tuxedo, fitting pants, a monocle in the left eye, no shoes and a ridiculously big white topper with a crimson hatband. This Enderman dressed up especially for being stared at. Did I mention he was sipping tea out of a porcellain cup, decorated with flowers? Leaning against a tree? Not to forget the overlengthy iron scythe that he apparently used as a walking cane. All in all, extraordinary.

    And then he spoke:" Why are you staring at me? Do I have a slime in my face?"
    I didn't know what I expected, a deep growl, a sinister whisper, but definitely not this refined british accent and smooth baritone.

    "Now what is that scared face there? I don't bite!" His voice sounded calming.

    Nonetheless, I was shivering from fear.
    "But are you not an Enderman, a harbinger of the endless void and-"

    "Cut that garbage!" He interrupted me.
    "I am no harbinger of nothing. After all, I am Sir Fertig. The only suit-wearing, tea-sipping and timetravelling Enderman in the darn universe! That should count for something I believe."

    "Can you really, uh, "jump" through time?" I wanted to know.

    "Of course! It is easy. You just wait till you get older. BAM! Timetravel!" He nearly killed himself laughing over his mediocre joke.
    Naturally, I put on my Not-amused face. My Not-amused face was quite ordinary, like so many other Not-amused faces people put on everyday. It was nothing fancy, but it did the job, and it did it good.

    Sir Fertig frowned:"You seem not amused."

    "Oh really?"

    "That shall be fixed!!! With another joke!"

    "Please kill me now, Notch."

    Fertig seemed sad. "You are unfriendly. I will cry now." And so he did, purple tears.

    Of course I couldn't let him just there, so I apologized:"I am so-"

    "I TRICKED YOU!!! HAHAHAHAAA YESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYES! DÜMMY!!!1!" Sir Fertig was going down my I-respect-you-scary-individual scale rapidly, and now I was near crying, because of the absurdness.
    "You are below me, and so is your humor. I am outta here."
    I turned to leave.

    "Please don't depart. I am sorry, I will troll you nevermore."

    "Too late."

    "I implore you. If you go, I will be fired." He was crawling through the grass, grasping my ankle.

    "I. Hate. My. Life." I sighed, and asked what this had to do with his job.

    Sir Fertig seemed re-energized immediately. He shot into his standing position and buried me under an avalanche of way too fast spoken words.

    "Good question. I am employed at the Notchly Department for Epic Quests, age 11-21. You wished for an epic quest at your birthday. Today is your birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" He squealed in delight. If he would clap his hands, it would be perfect.

    There was just an ever so slight problem: I didn't wish for an epic quest.

    The Enderman shook his head in a reproachful way.
    "Of course you did. I noticed myself. You clearly wished for an epic quest!"

    "I did not. I wished for the epic adventures of St. Que. The novel."

    "Close enough. Every boy wants an epic quest, right?"

    "I don't. Questers usually die or get nearly killed, whilst experiencing severe agony. Something I don't want to pay emeralds for."
    I read enough books. I know my quest stuff, so don't look at me like I am a chicken, yes?

    "Our service is free."

    "A bucket of water in your face is free too."

    Sir Fertig let out an earthshattering laugh. "My dear customer, a deal with a bunch of eldritch gods that costed me the sight of my left eye, which is also the reason you may call me Odin of Minecraftia, made me absolutely immune to liquids. Very practical for drinking tea. Luckily -" his head bowed down to my ear, and he continued his sentence in a more silent manner."I found a way to trick them. This monocle is actually an implant that acts as an eye replacement. But don't tell them. They might resurrect my former employer, Sarro Hien Elvestevesz Bre, more known as Elvestevesz, whom I accidentally dropped a ceiling onto. Do you want to know under which name he was even more known?"

    I did not.
    Fertig made a sad grimace. "But surely you would like to know about your epic quest?!"
    Slowly but surely, this was infuriating me:" I don't know what kind of netherwarts you ate, but even with that you should be able to recognize a simple ******* NO!" I believed that now only swearing would prove my point. Nope.

    "/start stackcommand, /cuelightning, /booming voice, /execute stackcommand!"

    Apparently that should have done something, atleast, that was what I could hear from the annoyed "Darn, the console is off".

    "As you wish, boyo, but remember, I WILL kill your pet zombified dog if you do not want to conform to the rules of our service! Which include it being a must to be fullfilled if the universe shall not be destroyed by an armor wearing villain that may or may not open rifts to destroy the universe and it not being refundable. The latter of the rules I do not understand, for we are not taking payment.""Highly peculiar. I should do research on that." He scratched his chin.

    I raised my brows in amused confusion.
    "Are you sure you aren't mental?"

    Fertig was baffled. It took about ten seconds until he found his voice again, only to let out a very sure "I AM, DÜMMY" shout. Just. My. Luck.

    "So" he asked,"any questions?"

    "What is a console?"

    "A stuff you mustn't know" he replied with his so ever posh accent.
    Why do they always say mustn't? I think about mustard then and get hungry.

    The Enderman swiftly fished a small book out of a pocket in his jacket. How did a whole book fit in it? It was a very big pocket, and a very tiny book. He then flew through the pages until he found what he was searching for:

    "Dear customer, you have been chosen to be given a quest by the Notchly Department for Epic Quests Ages 11-21™. We are the best sorted (and only) quest-gifters in all of Minecraftia. Our assortment is highly customizable, you can, for example, choose to fight your after your exact psychogram -"

    "What is a psychogram?"

    "I don't know. Although yours would probably contain the word uneducated."
    I know his would then contain the word hypocrite.

    "Your after your psychogram created villain" he continued "on a volcano, deep under the sea or high up in the air. You may also choose the weather conditions (we recommend meteor showers for authenticy), or to fight with blade or arcane spells. We hope you enjoy the narration/lore our highly trained and not at all demented and/or mentally ill personnell will provide. And happy questing!

    The Notchly Department for Epic Quests Ages 11-21™ and affilliated Logos such as The Notchly Department for Epic Quests Ages 11-21® are property of the Notchly Department. All rights reserved. We are not responsible for eventual loss of limbs, traumatic experiences such as causing new phobias of various words, elements and animals, smiting, possible infections and painful death."

    I felt a bit cold.
    "You are in knowledge of the fact that the whole we-are-not-responsible-for-death-thingamajig does its best to make me the opposite of eager to go on this quest?"

    "I am not and am not willing to acquire it. And if you do die, do it in silence, yes?" He nodded his head in approval.
    "I am just going to assume you agreed with me, so I can say thats the spirit. Thats the spirit!"

    What was I doing here, why was I not in my bed? Why didn't I think of locking my door? Why? Because it would have spared me a lot of trouble.

    "Don't I need a sword or something?"

    Fertig facepalmed.
    "Thank you kind person for reminding me. Exterminatus!" He clapped his hands and everything went dark. The last thing I heard was that Sir Fertig mumbled something about wrong words and death curses.

    Chapter 2: In which our hero apparently died and got clonesurrected.

    Darkness. The endless black pitch. Then a voice. A british accent. A light. I was swimming through water. Icecold water. It froze me from the inside out. I couldn't move, was sinking. Airbubbles were flowing up from my mouth."No", a voice shouted in my head, "swim up.". So I fought myself the way back to the surface, and then, then I awoke.

    And looked right into the face of a grinning Sir Fertig, which is a creepy sight indeed.

    "Iiiieeh!" I screamed.

    "You sound like a three year old girl.", he noted headshaking.

    "I did not. And where am I, may I ask you?"

    Fertig smiled. "This", he exclaimed proudly as he turned around himself, arms outstretched, " this is the Ma.Trix."

    I was confused to say the least. I seemed to have been laying on a white floor in a seemingly infinitely wide and tall room. I could only assume that the ceiling and the walls were also colored white. It wasn't cold, but it wasn't warm either. I didn't know where the light came from.
    "The Matrix, so so. And where is this so called Matrix?"

    "It is called Ma.Trix., dummy" chided the Enderman, "or with its proper name, Magical Trix and simulation room of the Notchly Department, and is situated in a pocket universe which is situated in my pocket. Understood?"

    "Barely not. Rather no. Is it important that I do?" was my disinterested answer.

    He shrugged. "Not really."

    "How did I come here anyways?"

    "Oh", responded Fertig dangerously cheerfully," I accidentally killed you and then cloned you with foul magic, and your life-force is only bound temporarily to your body now except in this dimension and if I would want you to serve me some plates with lobster ragout you would serve me because you are now technically a zombie but I am not cruel, so I will only use this to force you to go on a dangerous quest. Which is probably deadly. Actually, this quest is rated impossible, which means that if you succeed you will be granted immortality which is what you need right now. Great, isn't it?"

    That was, in no way at all, great. Not. At. All. Nada. Niente. Nope.

    "Are you serious? You killed me? YOU KILLED ME?!!!??" I have never been angrier than now in my hole entire life. This madenderman or however one would call that just walks up to me and kills me out of accident! When I still had a lot if years to live a happy life, I wasn't even finished with school, and I didn't sit through all these hours just to now DIE.

    "Yes", he said aghast," please try not to spit."

    But because saying don't to a 14 year old boy that has just been killed by an idiot through his idiocy is the perfect way to make this 14 year old boy do the things he shouldn't, I spat. In his tea.

    "Great" was his remark," now it is spoiled! Have you atleast calmed down enough?" He threw away his cup.
    "So, to go on this quest, you need gear! Me dona!"

    Nothing happened.

    "Me dona!" Said Fertig, more energetic this time.

    "It isn't doing anything." There was still only the whiteness of this extremely large room.
    Fertig had seemingly chosen to ignore me.

    "/create physical GUI questgear" he commanded.
    Suddenly, a large shelve with all weapons you could imagine plus a bit more appeared in midair, where it stayed floating.
    "The realtime latin commands plugin is still buggy."

    "May I know what a command is?"

    "You mustn't."

    "I want mustard. So, what did you summon this impressive array of killing tools for?"

    Fertig regarded me with a gaze like I was a total imbecile:"To equip you for helping you survive this quest, of course?"

    "Do you have radishes in your ears? I will not go on no quest."

    "Then be mine guest forever, for in thy first day on Minecraftia after your death thou shall speak in the tongue of thy arthropods, thy second day thou shall speak in thy tongue of thy creatures of thy Nexus Nether, thy third day in thy tongue of thy undead, the fourth in thy tongue of thy scaled stalkers, thy fith day in thy tongue of thy ghosts of decay, thy sixth day in thy tongue of thy dragons, and on thy end of thy seventh, thou shalt roam the earth forever as an unliving thing, no more a human, but a shadow if thyself. You could say as an Enderman. I don't know why it is a punishment though, I like being me."
    That was quite the monologue, but I did not understand what the hell he was talking about.

    "I am talking about the fact that you will slowly turn into an Enderman and be stuck in that form. Which should give you pain without relent, for human minds can't handle the dimensional planes an Enderman exists on. Or you stay here in this pocket dimension forever. Your choice only!"
    Suddenly, the cheerful smile of Sir Fertig was triumphant, even a bit sinister.
    "This accident is really convenient for you, is it not?"

    "Oh my, the amount of vitriol in your voice could melt bedrock! But yes, I can't deny that your sudden death is an overly tragic event for my cause. Which is to save the multiverse from utter destruction, so if you had guts you would help me anyways."

    "I hate you." With these words I threw myself at him. He evaporated in a puff of violet smoke and I landed hard on the white floor. My jaws crunched together and my teeth hurt. Red dots danced over my vision. I forced myself to stand up. Then I examined the shelf with the weapons.
    "There is no use to that. You won't even touch me. Now, let us look at the problem with reason! You are going to die permanently after 7 days. If you go on this quest and complete it, The Notchly Department for Epic Quests will fix this. It is a win-win."

    "Or you could give my life back now. There is no real danger anyways, am I right?"

    Fertig sighed." Usually, the quests are simulated. But not this one. This one is not. How should I explain this." He searched for words.
    "The Notchly Department is more like a security. The quest-giving is just something that we do out of, passion you could say. Now, there is a prophecy-"

    "Keep away with prophecies." I demanded.

    "There is a prophecy that says that the living dead who is not born in the year must travel to the gate of Altropius and travel back to the Cave Game. So, I have done research about you. You were born on the 31th of February, a day that will never ever happen again, and you are a zombie, technically. You fulfill the prophecies description of the valiant hero."

    I did not feel valiant nor heroic.
    "What is the Cave Game, what does this have to do with me and who is Altropius?"

    "Questions, questions, questions. These will be answered soon enough. But one thing before I bid you farewell. Here." He gave me a dented sword with a dull blade. This is Smite. Speak [reason],and whoever is guilty will be struck by lightning and banished into the void where he or his soul shall never return. And be good to Mr. William."

    "Wait, a second?! Mr. William-"

    Fertig clapped his hands, and the white room faded away, to make place for a forest. It was nothing alike the forest I awoke in. This forest was filled with light, and animals and it was day and tgere were no zombies. And a saddled pig. It grunted. It had a name-tag around his neck. I assumed it to be Mr. William.
    "A pig." Mr. William grunted, obviously pleased to meet me.

    "A pig." I said again. "My steed is a pig. Great. Now my artist name shall be Sir Porky from the Pigforest." I had this sudden urge to laugh maniacally, but a high pitched scream interrupted me:"Heeeeeelp, a smelly dead thing wants to eat me!"

    Chapter 3: The Undead rises and a five year old testificate saves me from certain doom.

    I sprinted into the direction the scream came from. Mr. William sprinted in the opposite direction, as soon as he saw the zombie.

    "Real nice buddy."

    I couldn't blame him though. The zombie was really yucky and scary.
    Its one eye that it hadn't lost to decay was hanging out of its skull, which only a third was covered in skin. Its flesh had a brown tone, like beef jerky, and its blood was a dark rotten green. There were only bones left from its right hand, and its left had no thumb. It wore a torn chainmail shirt with a lot of holes in it that was covered in the same goo of rot and blood that was its face. Its feet were stumps, the color of its trousers was grey, but not from fabrication than moreso from the clay that clung to it. And the smell. I can't describe it really, you must have smelled a zombie to understand how bad it is. Foul eggs, old fish, it was the scent of putrefaction. Every other while it let out a degenerate, hungry growl that was twisted by his decomposed throat into a wet, sickening noise.
    It was trying to climb a thick old tall oak with a wide protruding crown. I almost felt sorry for this pitiful creature, until I saw the 5 year old girl it was trying to eat. She was sitting on a branch that would be just out of the undead's reach if it could stand up. She had a muddy torn skirt that was white under the dirt and grass stains and an evenly muddy red shirt. Her face was cute but dominated by an absurdly big nose. She had to be a testificate. Her eyes were green, like all of their people, but there was a spark in them that I had never seen before in one of them. Which wasn't often, to be honest. I had only visited twice a testificate village, and that was in school, so my mind hadn't been focused exactly. Like not. But now all I saw was a five year old girl that was in danger of being eaten by a zombie. I did the sensible thing.

    "FOR GREAT JUSTICE!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, charging with Smite drawn over my head. My feet flew over the ground. And then I stumbled over a root and fell on my face for the second time this day.
    The zombie turned around and opened its mouth. It was filled with black teeth.
    It slowly started crawling towards me, and I had the impression that it grinned. It was a knowing grin, knowingful of its victory it was. I was its next meal, and nothing would change that. I frantically tried to stand up but my head was filled with hammers ringing on anvils and the world was spinning around me. I searched for my sword, but it lay behind the zombie, out of my reach.
    The Zombie reached for me with his skeletal hand. In return, I squashed his eyeball with my foot. I expected it now to wail and growl in pain, but the loss of his left eye had as much impact on him as a mosquito on steel.
    It arounded himself and again clawed for my face. I gripped his arms and tried to hold it away from me. Then they both broke off and fat worms and maggots fell on my shirt. They were white and squishy and they squirmed and wiggled and squiggled, deprived from their feast as they were. Blank horror overcame me. I tried to swish the parasites away. The zombie crawled onto me. He opened his mouth to take a big nice bite of fresh meat. And then a sword split his head right in half.

    "I saved your life. Now you must serve me!" the five year old girl ordained. Of course, I heavily protested, because not only did I run to her rescue in the first place, but I am also in no way going to be a five year olds servant.
    "Sorry, but no matter how much you rescue me from certain doom, I will not read you bedtime stories or the like and be commanded by a small child."

    She held the tip of Smite under my chin:" Who has the sword here?"
    That was an argument. Still I disagreed:" Even if you had a lightning bolt, you don't have the guts to use this sword on a person."

    She made an angry face:"I killed more growlers than I have fingers and toes."

    "Those aren't people."

    "Yes they are!" She shouted with trutz. "Yes they are!"

    She raised the blade again.
    "Now come with me or I poke you!"

    "Hah. You can barely hold this sword and I am 9 years older than you." I remarked derogatory.

    "Shut and stand up." she commanded.

    And so I did.

    "Good jimmy!" she praised me.
    That confused me.

    "My name is not Jimmy!"

    The girl didn't seem to care much.
    "Be quiet you jimmy!"

    "I already told you that my name is not Jimmy!"

    We began walking in a direction I deemed to be south. In the meantime, Mr. William had returned.

    "I needed you over there, piggy. Where were you?"

    The pig grunted playfully.

    "Is that your pig, you jimmy?" asked the little testificate intrigued.

    "My name is not @&/;$£# Jimmy."

    "Then what is it?"

    I immediately saw my chance.
    "I am Sir Porky of the Pigforest, and this is Mr. William, my mighty steed!"
    I exclaimed with pride.

    The small girl scratched her head.
    "He is a pig."

    "He is a fearstriking boar! Wild and savage and blood-addicted."

    As I was saying that, Mr. William began chasing a butterfly around in circles.

    "He doesn't seem very boarlike. Do you think I can pet him?"

    "Yeah" I sighed discouraged," go ahead."
    Mr. William licked the girls face.

    "Anyway, my point is that I am a valiant knight that came to the rescue and now you treat me like your slave. I must ask you why!"

    "That is the way the rules work. You are a knight, you should know them."

    "Well, I do not, apparently."

    "My mummy used to tell me the old legends of Minecraft. About Notch, the first human and his friend Steve and Steve's shadow Herobrine, and how the evil people of the darkspires were punished because they were His servants, about the river of ghast tears that flows in the Nexus Nether where the souls of the dead must cross the border, about The High King Altropius that burned because he tried to tame the fiery lands of the Nexus Nether and take back his queen and-"

    "Wait a second!" I shouted.

    "And the point is that in the legends, if someone has his life saved then he must serve his savior. Case closed."

    "No" I retorted, "you said something about Altropius. I was actually on my way to the gates of Altropius when I had the unpleasant honor of trying to save you."

    "Well, mummy never told me about some door."

    "Maybe she knows someone who has a map with that location marked on it."

    "She won't." snapped the small girl.

    "Well, then maybe your daddy?"

    "They won't tell you anything. They, they, they don't like me."

    "Ah. You ran away? May I ask why?"

    "Just. Be. Quiet." She growled through clenched teeth.

    "So, could you kindly bring me to someone who knows where these gates are? Because I have about one week until I die a second time. It was a quite unpleasant sensation."

    She just stared at me, like I had emerged from lava.

    "Undeath." She whispered.

    "Excuse me?"

    "You know what?" She said with false enthusiasm, "I do remember someone who knows anything. Now let me sit on your steed and you walk!" And she waved the rusty and way too heavy sword at my face.

    Okay. Sudden change of mood? Lucky turning? I hoped for it. Because, I had this distinct feeling that she somehow was exploiting me. And nothing is as evil as a five year old person outsmarting you.

    Chapter 4: In which I walk and find out nobody cares about me.

    It was about 4 o' clock pm, the sun was descending from its midday throne, and the moon would soon rule the sky. We had been riding for about 5 hours. Well, "she" had been riding, I had to walk the whole time. Why do these things never happen to the people that deserve that kind of treatment instead of a 14 year old boy who never even fathomed something like this? Maybe I had been a naughty child and santa had thought of something new? Whatever the case, I hated it. That is still not counting the nonstop comments and questions from "her". I still refuse to tell you her real name, mainly because I still want to write a lot of "'s. But then, if you want so: her names is Myna, she is indeed 5 years and 7 months old, she likes poking cows with sharp sticks and climbing onto trees to drop small stones on people she seems unfit to exist without a massive headache, be it for petty revenge, pure "I-do-what-I-must-because-I-can" logic or just by a very vile destiny and accident. And she likes burning things, too.

    Great. I am travelling with a psychopathic, pyromanic and sadistic 5 year old girl, and she has the sword (and the right to tell me how much I suck). I ask you again: why does this happen to me? Quantum science, reasons, killer bunnies from space? Nope. A very certain Enderman in a suit. And his oversized topperyness was standing right infront of me right now, just suddenly materializing and giving me a heart attack, aswell as causing several questions a la "Is this the grim reaper that has come to take away Mr. William?". Oh, how I would love to close my hands around that slender throat and squeeze until his eyes popped out.

    Please refrain from calling me a hypocrite. I did indeed just judge Myna, and basically in the same breath, admitted my wish for brutally slaughtering Sir Fertig. Just let it go. By doing that, you take away from the epic story. And you will probably miss the Zombie Ninja Mechas. I don't know how they fit into here, but I will make it work. Promise.


    I expressed my anger in an appropriate manner.
    "So, you dare show up again? Could you make yourself a bit useful for once and get my sword back from this pest?"

    Fertig looked back and forth between me and Myna.
    He did not really believe what he saw.

    "Look, I have probably napped away, but in case that this is real, you my friend, are a moron. I gave you a magical sword and a fierce steed! And you loose it to the first bandit that crosses your way!"

    He turned to Myna:"So, you are a bit puny for a bandit. Did you summon a giant skeleton with four arms and explosive arrows or something along those lines? Because if you didn't, then he really deserves getting robbed, or you are a demon. And because I apparently am classed as a demon, which I don't understand because I am friendly and stuff, I can see that you are not. Which means our friend is an idiot."


    That was me.

    Myna hopped off Mr. Williams back.
    "It was really easy. He fell on his nose. And then I saved him from a zombie." she said casually, like she did that for a warm-up for her day that included evil-god slaying.

    "Whatever." answered Fertig,"I am just here to supervise. Carry on!"

    "So, you are coming with us?" I asked, hoping the contrary would be the case.

    "Indeed. But act like I didn't exist."

    That wouldn't be particularly hard for me.

    I turned to Myna:"So, your pettyness, how far is this person that knows so much?"

    "Actually, he lives just behind the hill where you found me, but I have lead you around in a big circle so I could ride longer."

    That was mandatory, of course. Just keep making me angry. It is allright. I can take that. Apparently.

    And onwards we went. Me at the front, Myna in the middle and Sir Fertig last. He did his best so we couldn't ignore him, admiring every single square metre of grass, praising all the trees in the forest for asthetical superiority and all that other crap. The landscape was gorgeous, I must admit in retrospect, but at that time my vision was shrouded by a big cloud of violent thoughts and good ol' rage.

    "So, Sir Moron, you ruin peoples day often?" I asked with appropriate acid-dripping speech.
    "Or have you even considered informing my parents about my untimely demise?"

    Sir Fertig finished examining a rose petal and exploded into purple before re-materializing right behind me.
    "Only on mondays, Jimmy, only on mondays. And about your question, I have deleted every memory that your parents have of you, and given them a bonsai instead to take care of. So they won't miss you if you die, far far away without friends and in agony and probably very stupidly. I am great at handling social stuff, am I not?"

    There is only so much weirdness a mind can take. This border had just been nuked down into the Void. It was almost comical. I just slumped my shoulders in resignment and continued walking, as if walking would bring me back to my warm fluffy bed, my pillow and my room. My lovely room, where I would wake up at a lovely summer morning and spend a lovely day at my lovely school... Yes, I am that desperate.

    "You seem depressed?!"
    Sir Fertig blurted out.

    "Just leave me alone."
    I responded reluctantly.
    "And my name is not @))€(636&€*#>£#} Jimmy."
    Posted in: Literature
  • 2

    posted a message on Minefic: Legacy—Story List and Writing Help (Reformatting Help Needed, Check Thread)
    To answer tze question: your story has to have a connection with Minecraft. Anything can be written. If Minecraft is in there. Anything.
    Posted in: Literature
  • 1

    posted a message on Destroy the Godmodder 2: Operator!
    Not really.

    I summon forth, the Tesla-Steampunk army of giant robots. The Rules of Steampunk say that they are invincible unless a hero climbs ontop of them and plants a bomb in their brain. Good thing that there are only villains on the godmodders side.

    I have the robot army bow down before the Dino thingy. The one we are bribing.
    Posted in: Forum Games
  • 1

    posted a message on Star empires [futuristic RP] [space] NOT A SERVER

    "Noble goals do not justify crimes. I will help with whatever has to be done. About your question, in my youth, I used to believe. Not anymore now. I would prefer not talking about it."


    The new anti-proton beam strips have been installed. Although puny in comparison to their Mothership, they will help increase the ships defense against small-ish ships a lot.
    Posted in: Forum Roleplaying
  • 2

    posted a message on New Evil Characters in Minecraft
    He/She is his/her friend, lazz99. If you insulted one of my friends I'd get annoyed too. So just stop hating.

    Posted in: Literature
  • 1

    posted a message on Before I Die...
    Before I die, I want to:

    1. Write a full length book.

    2. Design the art for a videogame.

    3. Learn to play very evil music on an organ.
    Posted in: Literature
  • 1

    posted a message on TF2 VS Cod Series?

    There are tons of games out there that actually have good character design, instead of just hats.

    Modding is true, I guess.

    Free games only attract f2p newfriends.


    The personalities are shallow and uninteresting, they only exist to market the game as ''quirky''.

    I don't know that much about character design to decide about that.

    I personally didn't think any of the jokes were funny, I don't really like toilet humour.

    So do I. I still find it funny.

    The variety in gamemodes is also offered by games like CSS, except CSS has less 12 year olds and is actually skill based.

    Even being a Heavy requires skill. It is very easy to be heavy, but bei g a good heavy is something different all along. And what gamemode is there in CSS were you launch a rocket with a monkey in it into space

    >Le valve is jezus!!1!!1!, just stop it. They have put out some good games, but they aren't gods you know?

    Atleast they care about their consumers a very big tad more than for example Ubisoft where you have to not only buy the game but a new license for every new computer that you want to install it on.

    There are even more kids in TF2 as there are in COD, the community is horrendous.

    Being a child doesn't make you a demon.

    Updates only add hats, maps, and guns with a slight stat difference. they aren't advancing that fast, and if TF2 stopped making profit the updates would stop.

    If CoD would stop making profit they too wouldn't develop the game. TF2 (after you) gets the same amount of updated content for free instead for 60 bucks each.

    TF2 actually requireing strategy? Ha ha oh wow.

    Yep. You must think, buddy, otherwise a sentry will mow you down. It is chaos and mayhem, but controlled chaos and mayhem.

    Are you talking about the Meet the team videos? You do know those are ads designed to get the game sold. Right?

    Even though some of them came out AFTER the game went f2p?

    Posted in: General Gaming
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