I am traveling across the world of Minecraft, not sure what I will find. I’m finding this world is far more populated than I expected, which brings me solace, but the horrors are multiplying, which brings me sadness.
This is my journey. My only goal is to tell a good story.
I’ve walked for a long time now, a long time. Ten kilometers by my estimate. It’s been days since I saw anybody. And while I never seem to get along with the people I find, I do long for their company.
High noon I came to another desert. This one was encroaching on the surrounding hills. Perhaps this world is decaying faster than I thought. I walked into the desert, knowing it was hot and dangerous, only to break the monotony of the grasslands.
It wasn’t long before I found another town, a true desert town: Param. The town seemed in order: no out of place buildings, a full and bloated well, and irrigated crops. This place might be worth something.
I crafted myself some armor and cleaned up my inventory, waiting for night to fall. I asked the village priest about the encroaching desert, and he confirmed my suspicions.
Then he told me a story. He said that seven witches sent from beyond had entered this land and were terrorizing it. They came with powerful magicks, and they were raising an army of undead warriors.
Beyond where? I asked.
Far, the priest said.
When I asked what they needed this army for, he could not say. But he warned me to stay away from them. This desert was the result of one witch’s handiwork, the witch Talia. She had attempted a powerful summoning spell, hoping to raise to life every soul that had ever died on this fertile plain. She was weak, a lesser witch. And when her spell failed, the land rejected the souls of the dead, cursing the soil forever.
That’s why a desert was here now, in the middle of these fertile plains.
I was suspicious, though, of his story. Could a witch really turn an entire land into a desert?
I stood on the roof of an abandoned house, watching the sun set, shining through the church windows. Where was God, and why was He letting this happen?
Night fell and I surveyed the town, hoping for peace. I was wrong.
Zombies came out, and spiders, and skeletons. I fell many. I hid around the corners of buildings, strategizing against the mindless. But then I saw something I never expected. A skeleton shooting a zombie. The skeleton killed the zombie, then came after me.
These monsters are upset and rebelling. Why would they kill each other?
I killed the skeleton and went to my temporary shelter.
And then I saw her: Talia. The witch who turned this land into desert. Witches were powerful; what was I to do?
I went inside the house and watched through the window. She was getting closer, and bringing creepers along with her. She intended to destroy this town!
I climbed to the roof and shot her with arrows. I only had four, and didn’t kill her. I had to finish her by sword. Her creeper bodyguards would be a challenge, but this town needed to be protected.
I rushed her and caught her off-guard. In a matter of moments, she was dead.
I told the village priest, and he said that witches always have a home base, a temple where they practice their magick. I told him I would dispose of that haunt and protect this land. He called me Foolish Witch Hunter and said I would die. Maybe.
I left town to search for Talia’s home. The desert was full of monsters, but I avoided most of them. Once the sun arose, they burned to a crisp. If the witches were going to raise an army, they needed to protect them from the sun.
I walked miles across that desert all day long. I saw nothing around me. No animals. No people. No buildings. This desert was larger than I thought. Much larger. I crisscrossed the land in no particular pattern. If this temple existed, I would find it.
After midday, rain started to fall. In the desert! This was a sign, a sign of my blessing. God would redeem this land and refresh its dryness. The death of Talia was only the start. I don’t know how, but this land would be fertile once again.
The day grew long and I wearied of ever finding the temple. Perhaps I was a foolish witch hunter.
When I was about to give up, I saw it. A pyramid rising from the desert sands.
I quickly dug a hole and hid away. If I was going to take down this witch, I needed to protect myself first. I couldn’t go into this blind.
I built a shelter and slept with one eye open.
Today, my assault on the witch’s temple. Was this really Talia’s home? Or was there another witch inside? I had to be careful.
I combined the gunpowder I’d been saving up with sand and created TNT. Before I left this place, I was going to blow it to bits to make sure no witch ever took up residence in here again. I deposited all my treasures in a chest, just in case I died.
I approached the hut slowly, bow held at the ready. If a witch was in here, I needed to strike quickly.
I entered the pyramid and checked all the corners, then the towers. Fortunately, I was safe. The witch really was dead.
Before I blew the place up, though, I needed to see what treasures she’d hidden away. I’ve heard of these secret locations. It was under the floor. I busted away the floor and found what I was looking for: a pit, and at the bottom, four treasure chests.
Before I could open the chest, though, I made a mistake. I stepped down on the floor and heard the familiar click of a pressure plate. I’d triggered a trap! Before I could do anything, the basement exploded all around me! Explosion after explosion; I saw stars, and then red. Talia had gotten the better of me after all.
Because I’d created a place of rest the night before, I spawned nearby. If I was quick enough, I could recover my weapons and items. I went back to the temple and slowly made my way down the pit. It was much deeper this time, and dark.
At the bottom I found a huge cavern. A few bits of cobblestone lay scattered here and there, but that was it. My armor, gone. My weapons, gone. My TNT, gone. And whatever was in those four chests, also gone.
I climbed back to the surface, dejected and embarrassed. There are six more witches out there, ruining this world. I will find them, and when I do, I will be more careful.
The priest in Param had called me Foolish Witch Hunter, intending it as an insult. This dead witch did insult me, but that won’t happen again. What was intended as a slur will now be my moniker.
I am Witch Hunter, and I have six more witches to end.