6
((Note From the Author: Alright, well this is it! Minecraft building procrastination be damned, I actually managed to finally writeup a story PMC worthy, that of all things... Is about Minecraft! Almost all the rest of my writings up to this point have been rather unnoteworthy, not minecraft related, and little more then time wasters. And thus this is my first truly serious posted work, and due to a sudden case of writing block is going to be part of a short series detailing both my interpretation of the final minecraft boss fight between Steve and the Ender Dragon and the background behind it all in the first place, written out for your enjoyment from the semi-psychotic recesses of my mind. So hurry up and check it out below!))
Requiem For an Ender Dragon
o A dying man needs to die, as a sleepy man needs to sleep, and there comes a time when it is wrong, as well as useless, to resist.o
(Stewart Alsop)
If any minecraftian would ever dare to tread into the deep caves and dark caverns of a dragon's lair, they would, upon close enough proximity to a dragon, find among such creatures the treasures they protect. What these treasures are, most can only venture to guess. What man would dare to brave such a hazardous journey, to seek out, and to enter the realm of the fire-breathing behemoths, a race of creature not known for their calm temperament or well mannered disposition? Not even the mightiest of minecraftiao s heros, with their blades of sterling silver, armor of gleaming steel, and unfathomable courage are a match for a dragon.
No, what these dragons hide in their caves and caverns is not for the likes of mere men to know. It is only a very lucky few, or the very privileged few, whom have ever made contact with a dragon and lived to tell the tale, or to speak of the treasures they hoard. "Gold! Mountains upon mountains of gold!" one man may have proclaimed a hundred years ago, "ruby red jewels, for as far as the eye can see!" another may have written in a book a millennia or more ago. It is only these snippets of truth mixed in with hearsay, gathered through the ages, from one source or another, that even this much is known. The mind of many a man is emboldened by plots of easy riches or attempts to trick a dragon from its fortunes. It is for not, and once more, more often then not, it is the life of the lusting minecrafter that is taken.
So a man may conclude that dragons, these monstrous, enormous leviathans of the land and air, only rivaled in size by the even more fearsome and savage entity mankind has labeled with the title of the "Giant", are nothing more than greedy brutes. And perhaps it is so! After all what else should they be deemed? Call them as such and leave them be!
So the majority of minecraftia label them as such and hope to never come across a dragon. At least not a full grown dragon anyway, young baby and adolescent dragons have been found to be far more docile than their adult counterparts, as well as much smaller, and actually proven to be rather decent companions, so much so as to be favored as company by those of true godly fraternity, though their favor is of course dependent on the time period, and dictated by the fickleness of such a long lived regality.
All this is said so that you may understand, without the deficiencies and inaccuracies of rumors and old minecraftian tales, of what is to be told next. Deep in the darkest, most unexplored realms of the fabric of Notcho s creation there dwells a dragon of mighty size and age. If one were to see him, in fact, one might truly consider him the mightiest of all dragons. And perhaps he is; even among the race of dragons his size and long life are as astonishing as they are terrifying. This dragon, unlike the many before him, and many after, does not hold out in a cavern, but in a field of reality all his own, broken into and built up by his own claws. In his prime, characteristic of dragons, he was nomadic, moving from place to place, from home to home, taking with him the growing size of his golden and glittering bounty.
But this is not written to tell of his glory days. For you see, it is not in the prime of this dragon's life that we meet him, but rather at his final moments. This particular creature has spent the last thousand years within his realm, preserving himself through hibernation and sleep, dying a slow death that only the likes of a dragon can possibly draw out for so long. A normal person may consider a thousand years to be extraordinary, but for a dragon, it is merely the last tiny fraction of a life that has known and experienced ages long since forgotten by any other living creature.
Except of course, for one particular being, and his guest...
The footsteps are what awakened the slumbering dragon for the last time. Though his eyes opened, he could not see; his sight had begun to deteriorate almost five thousand years ago, his ability to smell had begun to fade almost three thousand years ago, his considerable wingspan was last used almost a full century ago. Still, he could hear the sound of those footsteps, though once again, not with the clarity he once knew.
"Who goes there?" growled the dragon, raising his head with all the strength he could muster.
"Why, have you forgotten me already my trusted friend?" said the minecraftian.
The dragon smiled, lowering its head upon the gold and diamonds in his possession. "How could I ever forget? Even in my advanced age, how could I ever forget the Creator of all Minecraftia?"
Notch smiled. The dragon could not see it, but he could tell. "Oh, it has been too long, far too long," he continued, "it must have beeno ¦ five hundred years nowo ¦."
"I come from time to time, though unfortunately I always find you sleeping. I could never bring myself to be so rude as to awaken you, I hope you aren't offended," said the creator.
The dragon chuckled. "Noo ¦ I thank you for leaving me to my resto ¦ you know how cranky I geto ¦ without my beauty sleepo ¦" his breaths were labored now, how difficult it was becoming for the creature, even to breath.
"I got your message, and came as soon as I could."
"Messageo ¦?"
"That you sent to me, I was so glad to hear from you, though in the back of my mind I knew what it meant."
"I don't remembero ¦"
"Oh, my good Endero ¦" the creator brushed against his friend's worn scales. Long had it been since his formerly red and tan hide had gleamed brightly and fiercely in the sunlight or glimmered in the pale white of the moonlight. With Ender having long since began to sink into the ash of his new home. Choking on the white sando s as they pulled him below, tasting of sulfur as what he dreamed now sounded of roaring flames. Then transformed by the flames and cursed by the void, Ender was now changed, armor fused to his skin, formerly clawed hands turned to obsidian blades, and beast fur had seen it fit to now coat his entire form, the only feature to tell he was still the Ender Dragon was his face, even though twisted into the shape of a skull he was still recognized as who he truly was...
"Ender, yeso ¦ that was my nameo ¦ is my name. Don't worry yourself.. my memory has been fading for many a century nowo ¦ it's all coming to an endo ¦ at least for me it is... the world will go on of course, so long, as long as the creator of Minecraftia continueso ¦ the eternal protector, my King, my friend. Am I to rightly presume that not a single hair has grayed on that magnificent head, of neither yours nor of Jebo s? Not even in the entire duration of my thirty thousand years have the ravages of Time worn you, neither in body nor spirito ¦"
Notch merely set himself against the labored dragon, his youthful, eternal body soft to the touch. Even he could still feel it, though just barelyo ¦.
"I found a gray hair the other day. Shocking, yes?"
"Indeed, the sky must be falling!" bellowed the dragon, his last laugh as the creator laughed along side him.
"Yes, that's righto ¦" he continued, "you have come to collect it theno ¦ the treasure you tasked me to guard so long agoo ¦ the Breath of Creationo ¦ as a loyal servanto ¦ as your friendo ¦ I sadly must inform you, I can no longer keep it on my watcho ¦"
o Indeed I have...o his creator muttered, "you've done a wonderful job protecting it, I'll handle ito s security from now on. Let's not discuss it further. Instead, let us be as two friends, with our reminisces of the days long passed by. And whato s to come..."
o The ceremony you mean?o Questioned the dragon, his failing but nonetheless inquisitive mind recalling back to the day the Breath of Creation had itself, been bequeathed to him. o The battle... So a champion has arisen then?o
o You are quite right...o The creator smiled, petting the pitiful behemoth as he did.
And true to his word, the champion was there, had been there... watching it all in silence. Whether or not the dragon ever knew he had been there all along Steve did not know, and probably never will. The lone individualo s enchanted diamond armoro s ivory gloss gleamed in the glorious voido s starlight as he watched, and served as a symbol of minecraftiao s purity, both in the land and in the hearts of its people, the hilt of his blade releasing a satisfying shing as he unholstered his holy diamond blade at this cue.
And so when he did, Notch shed a tear, fared his goodbyes, and gave the most precious of the treasures the dragon Ender could bear, the weight of over thirty thousands years of silent vigil being lifted from his shoulders in a magical instant. It burnt upon his contact with it, but warmed his entire body. Gradually as the feeling spread, the aches and pains of age disappeared. He flapped his wings experimentally. The cold of the void and Notcho s restorative powero s had done their work.
o No pain!o said Ender, tears in his eyes o not all of them from the icy chill.
Ender rose from his deathly resting place like any sleeping giant would, the feeling of speed, the exhilaration of movement enfolding him like a cocoon. He spread his wings and felt the atmosphere bite. The magic was strong. An entire yearo s worth, all at once. Dangerous levels, borderline poisonous, even for a creature of such advanced age as himself but Ender had no choice. One last flight. One last show of strength. One last battle... He powered upwards, picking up speed. As he dived over the worldo s edge, spread his wings, and went into a power-dive.
((Closing Remarks: And that's it, I cut off just before the real fighting starts because I really need to think it out, and I really wanted to get this part out as I start working on it's continuation and the epic boss battle that's to follow. So... Read it, love it, hate it. Tell me your thoughts about it.))
((Also, looks like I'm pulling a Duke Nukem with the "La Couturière" I mentioned earlier. I JUST got started on it actually, over a month after I promised it'd be done by halloween... (._.) That's high school and massive amounts of procrastination for yah, I already built the "air", ballon... thingy... part of it though! So I'll surely be done with it eventually...))
Requiem For an Ender Dragon
o A dying man needs to die, as a sleepy man needs to sleep, and there comes a time when it is wrong, as well as useless, to resist.o
(Stewart Alsop)
If any minecraftian would ever dare to tread into the deep caves and dark caverns of a dragon's lair, they would, upon close enough proximity to a dragon, find among such creatures the treasures they protect. What these treasures are, most can only venture to guess. What man would dare to brave such a hazardous journey, to seek out, and to enter the realm of the fire-breathing behemoths, a race of creature not known for their calm temperament or well mannered disposition? Not even the mightiest of minecraftiao s heros, with their blades of sterling silver, armor of gleaming steel, and unfathomable courage are a match for a dragon.
No, what these dragons hide in their caves and caverns is not for the likes of mere men to know. It is only a very lucky few, or the very privileged few, whom have ever made contact with a dragon and lived to tell the tale, or to speak of the treasures they hoard. "Gold! Mountains upon mountains of gold!" one man may have proclaimed a hundred years ago, "ruby red jewels, for as far as the eye can see!" another may have written in a book a millennia or more ago. It is only these snippets of truth mixed in with hearsay, gathered through the ages, from one source or another, that even this much is known. The mind of many a man is emboldened by plots of easy riches or attempts to trick a dragon from its fortunes. It is for not, and once more, more often then not, it is the life of the lusting minecrafter that is taken.
So a man may conclude that dragons, these monstrous, enormous leviathans of the land and air, only rivaled in size by the even more fearsome and savage entity mankind has labeled with the title of the "Giant", are nothing more than greedy brutes. And perhaps it is so! After all what else should they be deemed? Call them as such and leave them be!
So the majority of minecraftia label them as such and hope to never come across a dragon. At least not a full grown dragon anyway, young baby and adolescent dragons have been found to be far more docile than their adult counterparts, as well as much smaller, and actually proven to be rather decent companions, so much so as to be favored as company by those of true godly fraternity, though their favor is of course dependent on the time period, and dictated by the fickleness of such a long lived regality.
All this is said so that you may understand, without the deficiencies and inaccuracies of rumors and old minecraftian tales, of what is to be told next. Deep in the darkest, most unexplored realms of the fabric of Notcho s creation there dwells a dragon of mighty size and age. If one were to see him, in fact, one might truly consider him the mightiest of all dragons. And perhaps he is; even among the race of dragons his size and long life are as astonishing as they are terrifying. This dragon, unlike the many before him, and many after, does not hold out in a cavern, but in a field of reality all his own, broken into and built up by his own claws. In his prime, characteristic of dragons, he was nomadic, moving from place to place, from home to home, taking with him the growing size of his golden and glittering bounty.
But this is not written to tell of his glory days. For you see, it is not in the prime of this dragon's life that we meet him, but rather at his final moments. This particular creature has spent the last thousand years within his realm, preserving himself through hibernation and sleep, dying a slow death that only the likes of a dragon can possibly draw out for so long. A normal person may consider a thousand years to be extraordinary, but for a dragon, it is merely the last tiny fraction of a life that has known and experienced ages long since forgotten by any other living creature.
Except of course, for one particular being, and his guest...
The footsteps are what awakened the slumbering dragon for the last time. Though his eyes opened, he could not see; his sight had begun to deteriorate almost five thousand years ago, his ability to smell had begun to fade almost three thousand years ago, his considerable wingspan was last used almost a full century ago. Still, he could hear the sound of those footsteps, though once again, not with the clarity he once knew.
"Who goes there?" growled the dragon, raising his head with all the strength he could muster.
"Why, have you forgotten me already my trusted friend?" said the minecraftian.
The dragon smiled, lowering its head upon the gold and diamonds in his possession. "How could I ever forget? Even in my advanced age, how could I ever forget the Creator of all Minecraftia?"
Notch smiled. The dragon could not see it, but he could tell. "Oh, it has been too long, far too long," he continued, "it must have beeno ¦ five hundred years nowo ¦."
"I come from time to time, though unfortunately I always find you sleeping. I could never bring myself to be so rude as to awaken you, I hope you aren't offended," said the creator.
The dragon chuckled. "Noo ¦ I thank you for leaving me to my resto ¦ you know how cranky I geto ¦ without my beauty sleepo ¦" his breaths were labored now, how difficult it was becoming for the creature, even to breath.
"I got your message, and came as soon as I could."
"Messageo ¦?"
"That you sent to me, I was so glad to hear from you, though in the back of my mind I knew what it meant."
"I don't remembero ¦"
"Oh, my good Endero ¦" the creator brushed against his friend's worn scales. Long had it been since his formerly red and tan hide had gleamed brightly and fiercely in the sunlight or glimmered in the pale white of the moonlight. With Ender having long since began to sink into the ash of his new home. Choking on the white sando s as they pulled him below, tasting of sulfur as what he dreamed now sounded of roaring flames. Then transformed by the flames and cursed by the void, Ender was now changed, armor fused to his skin, formerly clawed hands turned to obsidian blades, and beast fur had seen it fit to now coat his entire form, the only feature to tell he was still the Ender Dragon was his face, even though twisted into the shape of a skull he was still recognized as who he truly was...
"Ender, yeso ¦ that was my nameo ¦ is my name. Don't worry yourself.. my memory has been fading for many a century nowo ¦ it's all coming to an endo ¦ at least for me it is... the world will go on of course, so long, as long as the creator of Minecraftia continueso ¦ the eternal protector, my King, my friend. Am I to rightly presume that not a single hair has grayed on that magnificent head, of neither yours nor of Jebo s? Not even in the entire duration of my thirty thousand years have the ravages of Time worn you, neither in body nor spirito ¦"
Notch merely set himself against the labored dragon, his youthful, eternal body soft to the touch. Even he could still feel it, though just barelyo ¦.
"I found a gray hair the other day. Shocking, yes?"
"Indeed, the sky must be falling!" bellowed the dragon, his last laugh as the creator laughed along side him.
"Yes, that's righto ¦" he continued, "you have come to collect it theno ¦ the treasure you tasked me to guard so long agoo ¦ the Breath of Creationo ¦ as a loyal servanto ¦ as your friendo ¦ I sadly must inform you, I can no longer keep it on my watcho ¦"
o Indeed I have...o his creator muttered, "you've done a wonderful job protecting it, I'll handle ito s security from now on. Let's not discuss it further. Instead, let us be as two friends, with our reminisces of the days long passed by. And whato s to come..."
o The ceremony you mean?o Questioned the dragon, his failing but nonetheless inquisitive mind recalling back to the day the Breath of Creation had itself, been bequeathed to him. o The battle... So a champion has arisen then?o
o You are quite right...o The creator smiled, petting the pitiful behemoth as he did.
And true to his word, the champion was there, had been there... watching it all in silence. Whether or not the dragon ever knew he had been there all along Steve did not know, and probably never will. The lone individualo s enchanted diamond armoro s ivory gloss gleamed in the glorious voido s starlight as he watched, and served as a symbol of minecraftiao s purity, both in the land and in the hearts of its people, the hilt of his blade releasing a satisfying shing as he unholstered his holy diamond blade at this cue.
And so when he did, Notch shed a tear, fared his goodbyes, and gave the most precious of the treasures the dragon Ender could bear, the weight of over thirty thousands years of silent vigil being lifted from his shoulders in a magical instant. It burnt upon his contact with it, but warmed his entire body. Gradually as the feeling spread, the aches and pains of age disappeared. He flapped his wings experimentally. The cold of the void and Notcho s restorative powero s had done their work.
o No pain!o said Ender, tears in his eyes o not all of them from the icy chill.
Ender rose from his deathly resting place like any sleeping giant would, the feeling of speed, the exhilaration of movement enfolding him like a cocoon. He spread his wings and felt the atmosphere bite. The magic was strong. An entire yearo s worth, all at once. Dangerous levels, borderline poisonous, even for a creature of such advanced age as himself but Ender had no choice. One last flight. One last show of strength. One last battle... He powered upwards, picking up speed. As he dived over the worldo s edge, spread his wings, and went into a power-dive.
((Closing Remarks: And that's it, I cut off just before the real fighting starts because I really need to think it out, and I really wanted to get this part out as I start working on it's continuation and the epic boss battle that's to follow. So... Read it, love it, hate it. Tell me your thoughts about it.))
((Also, looks like I'm pulling a Duke Nukem with the "La Couturière" I mentioned earlier. I JUST got started on it actually, over a month after I promised it'd be done by halloween... (._.) That's high school and massive amounts of procrastination for yah, I already built the "air", ballon... thingy... part of it though! So I'll surely be done with it eventually...))
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I really enjoyed reading this, it was so detailed and descriptive. Good cliffhanger as well, I know what you mean with procrastination, I get it whenever I want to write or draw. I think you should write more in the way of fan fiction, hell, you could even do the first written lets play!
:D
(Diamond)
But yeah, I am so glad someone else enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it, prolonged laziness with a sprinkle of procrastination has literally been the death of me this last few weeks, it just feel's good to finally get back out here and do something. Especially with an audience like PMC to give me this kind of feedback. And don't worry I fully intend to, :3 hopefully this is only the beginning. *Make's a note about trying out a "written" let's play.* *Possibly in journal format?* But yeah in the next few weeks hopefully I'll be coming out with even more written goodies.