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This is some quality pasta!
You are looking at a well-written and chilling story. Do not edit unless it needs to be done or you are the author.

Note

This is part one of a tetralogy (including a possible spin-off made by deadlock).

Part Two: Donjon

Chapter One

Ralaigh the Blighted walked into the Council of Adventurer's meeting room. It was time to overview major events in the land that the players and their own race knew as Minecraft.

Ralaigh had been known to always be the first person to meetings. Then it was the Archduke of the Yonivan Province, Arachen Clannister. Then it was Harab Knez, the Ambassador of Helena, what the Villagers call what we call Minecraft. All 10 of the members of the council filled in, including xXnoobslayerXx, the ambassador of the Players.

"Alright, we shall begin discussion." the leader of the council, Zaron Auroa began.

"There was a murder in the Yonivan Province. A player killed one of our major politicians." Archduke Clannister proclaimed.

"This is why we should just ban players from Helena!" shouted Raliagh.

"yoyo you can't ban us" objected noobslayer.

"We can do whatever we want. This is our land." Zaron said to him.

"you would cut a lot of trade bruh" noobslayer said, visibly annoyed.

"Get the hell out of here." said Zaron, "Or we shall force you."

"Hahahahaahah, you're funny." laughed noobslayer.

Two iron golems approached him.

"wut is going on here" said noobslayer worryingly.

"You leave or you die." said Zaron.

"kill me then" said noobslayer. The iron golems smashed him, turning him into rising smoke particles.

xXnoobslayerXx was killed by an Iron Golem.

The council got up.

"Do you realize what this means? We're finished!" shouted someone.

"You idiot!" jeered another.

"What?" questioned Zaron.

"You started a war, you big dummy." said Bend Errod, an adventurer.

Two weeks later, seven villages had been wiped out by the players. They were closing in on The Acropolis, the capital city.

"We want Zaron burned alive!" they shouted.

Zaron had locked himself in a closet, trying to barricade it.

"GET OUT OF THERE!" demanded villagers. They broke the lock and grabbed him.

"No, please!" shouted Zaron. They dragged him outside, presenting him to the players.

"Finally, justice. That's the last time villagers kill a player." said the commander of the player army, WalrusTime. They tied Zaron to a wooden pole and lit it on fire, players and villagers cheering.

"NOO-" Zaron stopped shouting and started crying in pain from the searing fire. His skin was turning black. It was only a matter of time that he would die.

Eventually, he turned into a pile of smoke.

Zaron Auroa burned to death.

The players rode back to Minecraft.

"Our leader is dead!" shouted a civilian.

In a fit of rage, the villagers formed an army and cast Ralaigh the Blight as their leader.

They traveled to Minecraft and destroyed buildings and stole emeralds.

"The rebellion is here!" they shouted, "We shall kill all of you!" they shouted.

And sure enough, they did. Not all of them survived, but they left 50 players captive and the rest dead.

Out of the 50 million villagers, there were 543,134 left.

The rebellion was over.

The villagers had won.

They burned WalrusTime at a stake, sharing the same fate of Zaron. And that's not the end of the story.

Soon, I shall tell the rest.

Goodbye.

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