This is my first story, I had fun writing it. And Edward Wesson is not me, when I first created my account I thought of a grim and sickly man in the mid 1860s named Edward Wesson, and I guess that's why I have this username, so I thought it'd be fun to create his story. I enjoyed writing this, I hope you do too, pal. If I like it and if you like it I'll make more, probably with better plot development.
The Town of Trinity
Wind blows harshly in this desolate desert town. Here joined a sickly pale man, he carries a pocket watch in one hand and flask of whiskey in the other hand. Hell calls for him, meet Edward Wesson. He is a queer creature, he studies the players and he sees their ominous dread and worry. He knows that this must stop or it will lead to their inevitable deaths.
The moans of Hel (Norse mythology, she is the daughter of Loki, the God of chaos) can be heard from this town. Their apprehension dooms them all, Edward knows this, and yet he does not say a word about it, as he would like to see them pay for their actions, but will not admit it. Half of the men used to spend most of their time in the bar, either fighting or drinking themselves to death, the other half did their jobs, went to church, and spent time at home. And the women usually stayed at home, did their jobs and went to church with the men. Folks felt fine about life till Ragnarok (Norse mythology, it talks of the battle of good and evil.) took over. Raids and grief seemed to be the norm when they joined. They shot players to death, they burned homes down, and they raided homes of defenseless players. The town of Trinity was a broken one.
These poor fools couldn't do anything about it, not even the sheriffs, who eventually gave up after they realized there wasn't much they could do about it. The sun eventually set and Edward realized how distracted he was, the gangs and monsters would come out sooner or later. He stole a damaged stone axe and trekked through the desert to find a forest. By then, it was night. He hurriedly ran into the forest when he found it, and swung his axe repeatedly till he got enough log to build a home. He cut two trees before a pack of the undead came to kill him. An arrow flew by his shoulder and a zombie had tackled him, he had no way of defending himself now. "Help!" the fool cried as the zombies continued to devour him. "This is it, death is won" he thought as his health was drained slowly and painfully. Until suddenly a pack of wolves found the undead shooting their arrows into Edward's weakened and bleeding body. The wolves pounced on the skeleton and it's bones were ripped off of it's body. As Edward picked up these bones he saw his chance to survive, he had quickly tamed one of the wolves and saved himself before he had died.
Edward and the wolf's teeth tore through the zombie's corpse like the poor tore through sick meat. Being saved at 3 hearts, he shared the flesh with the dog. The dog stared at him with his cold grey eyes as they ate. They gathered wood and they returned to Trinity to build the home that Edward had planned. By noon they had nearly built their small cabin about 100 blocks away from Trinity. "We did it, dog." Edward said. They were safe; for now. It seemed that their lives started to become normal. The roof was unfinished, but it would be completed the next day after. They had hunted for food and their health was restored. By night they rested, but were awoken by a gang of three players who were dressed in black leather garments and carried sabres of iron in their hands. "Who're you fellas?" asked Edward. "You stupid fool, we're the Sons of Nod. And if you want to live, you're gonna have to pay us a bit of those goods you have in those chests" said the man. "A-Alright, pal, I'll give you it all" said Edward as he signaled his dog. He put his axe in his inventory, and swung his axe into the chest of the man. They began to stab Edward until the dog pounced upon one of the men and sunk his rotting teeth into the arm of the man, scaring off the other man. Once Edward and the wolf had killed the two players, they noticed a third player was running. They quickly dashed towards the man but they could not catch up. They knew Hell would unleash upon them.
They had to prepare for the bloodshed they would soon face. After they built the roof of their small cabin. They stumbled around the area till they found a cave to mine in, it's dull and grey darkness had overwhelmed the area, the ore was barely visible. They wandered around and found a structure that appeared to be a mineshaft. They stumbled on to see what else they could explore and they found many riches, iron, gold, saddles, and bread could be found in the chests in these mineshafts. "These riches are mighty shiny!" Edward exclaimed. They had then explored deeper into these dark and desolate mineshafts, and to their expectations, they had found creepers. They were ambushed by creepers, they hissed hideously as they exploded, Edward had flew into the wall and his health had been drained, and more mobs had came. Two zombies and a skeleton began to dash angrily at Edward and his dog. They had quickly stood up and prepared for battle once again.
The dog had the skeleton scurrying off, and Edward had torn these zombies in two with his axe. They snickered viciously as they sunk their teeth into the flesh of the undead. They had also figured that they were prepared enough, fourteen iron ingots and 7 more ore, 5 gold ingots, and 27 blocks of cobblestone. As they crawled their way out of the mineshaft Edward had realized, the dog was nameless. "Huh, what should I call you?" he asked. But of course he could not respond, they returned home and he had thought of a name. "Good night Ymir." said Edward as he got into his bed. The next day they had woken up early enough to craft an iron chestplate, sword, leggings, and some boots. They had then went to town so they could buy a splash potion of poison, a bow, and five arrows. Then he disappeared soon after.
The entire gang had returned to the town but Edward and Ymir were nowhere to be seen. They asked the cowardly townsfolk and they swore they did not see him. They thought he had run off, little did they know he stood at the top of the roofs of the homes with a bow in one hand, and a potion of poison in the other. "Stupid coward" said the gang leader, Dead Man Bill. "Hey, up there!" cried one of the players. Edward tossed the poison down unto the Sons of Nod. The poison had weakened them and they hid for cover under the homes. Few archers did have the courage to go out in the open. Him and Ymir ran from roof to roof dodging arrows, but eventually they could not outrun them. An arrow pierced Ymir's leg, as Edward stopped to help him an archer shot his shoulder and they both fell off the roofs defeated. Ymir yelped and Edward cried in pain. "Learn your place, fools" said Dead Bill as he beat them both slowly to death. Dead Man Bill begins to say something until he is interrupted by an arrow shooting through his chest and into another weak gang player. The sheriffs had defended the two grim heroes as they were near death. Arrows flung over Ymir and Edward's vulnerable skull. The death of players and the destruction of homes was avenged, and Edward's thoughts about the townsfolk had changed. Despite their injuries, Edward and Ymir had got up to join their bloodbath. They sliced through and feasted upon the unholy flesh of the Sons of Nod and their victory was won.
The Sons of Nod was dead. The townsfolk had recovered and their two gruesome heroes were rewarded with a top hat, horse, and 10 gold ingots. "Thank you, without you we would not live in peace" said the townsfolk. "You're welcome" said Edward in a selfish tone. The next day they had decided they wanted to wander off and find a new home due to boredom. They rode off as if nothing had happened before.
A God that holds you over the pit of Hell, much as one holds a spider or some loathsome insect over the fire, abhors you, and is dreadfully provoked. - Jonathan Edwards
Wow! I love the somewhat dark atmosphere you managed to create here, and I think it is enhanced by the simplicity of the story and the characters. Keep writing and have fun doing it, and I'll keep reading and have fun doing it!
Wow! I love the somewhat dark atmosphere you managed to create here, and I think it is enhanced by the simplicity of the story and the characters. Keep writing and have fun doing it, and I'll keep reading and have fun doing it!
Thanks. I don't feel as embarrassed about it anymore. Since this is my first, I wanted to experiment a bit and see what I like to write. I suppose.
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A God that holds you over the pit of Hell, much as one holds a spider or some loathsome insect over the fire, abhors you, and is dreadfully provoked. - Jonathan Edwards
This is my first story, I had fun writing it. And Edward Wesson is not me, when I first created my account I thought of a grim and sickly man in the mid 1860s named Edward Wesson, and I guess that's why I have this username, so I thought it'd be fun to create his story. I enjoyed writing this, I hope you do too, pal. If I like it and if you like it I'll make more, probably with better plot development.
The Town of Trinity
Wind blows harshly in this desolate desert town. Here joined a sickly pale man, he carries a pocket watch in one hand and flask of whiskey in the other hand. Hell calls for him, meet Edward Wesson. He is a queer creature, he studies the players and he sees their ominous dread and worry. He knows that this must stop or it will lead to their inevitable deaths.
The moans of Hel (Norse mythology, she is the daughter of Loki, the God of chaos) can be heard from this town. Their apprehension dooms them all, Edward knows this, and yet he does not say a word about it, as he would like to see them pay for their actions, but will not admit it. Half of the men used to spend most of their time in the bar, either fighting or drinking themselves to death, the other half did their jobs, went to church, and spent time at home. And the women usually stayed at home, did their jobs and went to church with the men. Folks felt fine about life till Ragnarok (Norse mythology, it talks of the battle of good and evil.) took over. Raids and grief seemed to be the norm when they joined. They shot players to death, they burned homes down, and they raided homes of defenseless players. The town of Trinity was a broken one.
These poor fools couldn't do anything about it, not even the sheriffs, who eventually gave up after they realized there wasn't much they could do about it. The sun eventually set and Edward realized how distracted he was, the gangs and monsters would come out sooner or later. He stole a damaged stone axe and trekked through the desert to find a forest. By then, it was night. He hurriedly ran into the forest when he found it, and swung his axe repeatedly till he got enough log to build a home. He cut two trees before a pack of the undead came to kill him. An arrow flew by his shoulder and a zombie had tackled him, he had no way of defending himself now. "Help!" the fool cried as the zombies continued to devour him. "This is it, death is won" he thought as his health was drained slowly and painfully. Until suddenly a pack of wolves found the undead shooting their arrows into Edward's weakened and bleeding body. The wolves pounced on the skeleton and it's bones were ripped off of it's body. As Edward picked up these bones he saw his chance to survive, he had quickly tamed one of the wolves and saved himself before he had died.
Edward and the wolf's teeth tore through the zombie's corpse like the poor tore through sick meat. Being saved at 3 hearts, he shared the flesh with the dog. The dog stared at him with his cold grey eyes as they ate. They gathered wood and they returned to Trinity to build the home that Edward had planned. By noon they had nearly built their small cabin about 100 blocks away from Trinity. "We did it, dog." Edward said. They were safe; for now. It seemed that their lives started to become normal. The roof was unfinished, but it would be completed the next day after. They had hunted for food and their health was restored. By night they rested, but were awoken by a gang of three players who were dressed in black leather garments and carried sabres of iron in their hands. "Who're you fellas?" asked Edward. "You stupid fool, we're the Sons of Nod. And if you want to live, you're gonna have to pay us a bit of those goods you have in those chests" said the man. "A-Alright, pal, I'll give you it all" said Edward as he signaled his dog. He put his axe in his inventory, and swung his axe into the chest of the man. They began to stab Edward until the dog pounced upon one of the men and sunk his rotting teeth into the arm of the man, scaring off the other man. Once Edward and the wolf had killed the two players, they noticed a third player was running. They quickly dashed towards the man but they could not catch up. They knew Hell would unleash upon them.
They had to prepare for the bloodshed they would soon face. After they built the roof of their small cabin. They stumbled around the area till they found a cave to mine in, it's dull and grey darkness had overwhelmed the area, the ore was barely visible. They wandered around and found a structure that appeared to be a mineshaft. They stumbled on to see what else they could explore and they found many riches, iron, gold, saddles, and bread could be found in the chests in these mineshafts. "These riches are mighty shiny!" Edward exclaimed. They had then explored deeper into these dark and desolate mineshafts, and to their expectations, they had found creepers. They were ambushed by creepers, they hissed hideously as they exploded, Edward had flew into the wall and his health had been drained, and more mobs had came. Two zombies and a skeleton began to dash angrily at Edward and his dog. They had quickly stood up and prepared for battle once again.
The dog had the skeleton scurrying off, and Edward had torn these zombies in two with his axe. They snickered viciously as they sunk their teeth into the flesh of the undead. They had also figured that they were prepared enough, fourteen iron ingots and 7 more ore, 5 gold ingots, and 27 blocks of cobblestone. As they crawled their way out of the mineshaft Edward had realized, the dog was nameless. "Huh, what should I call you?" he asked. But of course he could not respond, they returned home and he had thought of a name. "Good night Ymir." said Edward as he got into his bed. The next day they had woken up early enough to craft an iron chestplate, sword, leggings, and some boots. They had then went to town so they could buy a splash potion of poison, a bow, and five arrows. Then he disappeared soon after.
The entire gang had returned to the town but Edward and Ymir were nowhere to be seen. They asked the cowardly townsfolk and they swore they did not see him. They thought he had run off, little did they know he stood at the top of the roofs of the homes with a bow in one hand, and a potion of poison in the other. "Stupid coward" said the gang leader, Dead Man Bill. "Hey, up there!" cried one of the players. Edward tossed the poison down unto the Sons of Nod. The poison had weakened them and they hid for cover under the homes. Few archers did have the courage to go out in the open. Him and Ymir ran from roof to roof dodging arrows, but eventually they could not outrun them. An arrow pierced Ymir's leg, as Edward stopped to help him an archer shot his shoulder and they both fell off the roofs defeated. Ymir yelped and Edward cried in pain. "Learn your place, fools" said Dead Bill as he beat them both slowly to death. Dead Man Bill begins to say something until he is interrupted by an arrow shooting through his chest and into another weak gang player. The sheriffs had defended the two grim heroes as they were near death. Arrows flung over Ymir and Edward's vulnerable skull. The death of players and the destruction of homes was avenged, and Edward's thoughts about the townsfolk had changed. Despite their injuries, Edward and Ymir had got up to join their bloodbath. They sliced through and feasted upon the unholy flesh of the Sons of Nod and their victory was won.
The Sons of Nod was dead. The townsfolk had recovered and their two gruesome heroes were rewarded with a top hat, horse, and 10 gold ingots. "Thank you, without you we would not live in peace" said the townsfolk. "You're welcome" said Edward in a selfish tone. The next day they had decided they wanted to wander off and find a new home due to boredom. They rode off as if nothing had happened before.
A God that holds you over the pit of Hell, much as one holds a spider or some loathsome insect over the fire, abhors you, and is dreadfully provoked. - Jonathan Edwards
Wow! I love the somewhat dark atmosphere you managed to create here, and I think it is enhanced by the simplicity of the story and the characters. Keep writing and have fun doing it, and I'll keep reading and have fun doing it!
Thanks. I don't feel as embarrassed about it anymore. Since this is my first, I wanted to experiment a bit and see what I like to write. I suppose.
A God that holds you over the pit of Hell, much as one holds a spider or some loathsome insect over the fire, abhors you, and is dreadfully provoked. - Jonathan Edwards