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Gosh, I’ve been sick for almost all of January.  Not stellar.  Aaron’s been home all week too.

‘Tis a plague house, be gone, be gone!

To distract myself, I’ve been playing Minecraft again.  New worldtype: super flat.  It’s bedrock, 3 layers of dirt, and nothing else.  Oh, except for the pre constructed villages scattered about.  Most are about half a days run (a Minecraft day) from each other.

So I made a survival world to roleplay as a farmer (normal world type, not superflat).  He wakes up- in a snowy wasteland- with no knowledge of how he got there.  There are no other people to be seen.  Some pigs and cows are scattered about the sparse tundra.  He makes a crude shelter and rakes precious seeds from the frosty grass with his bare hands.

After a few terrifying nights spent in his snow shelter, he decides to set off to find a warmer place, where he could grow crops, and try and make a farm, like he had in the before-time.

He takes the meager possessions he’s accumulated and sets off north.  On the frozen beach, he makes a boat and sails, and sails, and sails for what feels like forever.  At last he makes shore on a sandy beech.  There is green grass, and a lush forrest.  He makes shelter in the woods and once again survives a few frightening nights.  The creatures that come for him in the dark fade to nothingness as he falls asleep…

At last he sets off and finds a nice, flat plains area to start his farm.

It was a struggle, but he wound up with a log house, a huge irrigated field of wheat, a pen each of sheep, cows, chickens, and pigs.

When he was content, he explored nearby areas.

There were strange people in a village nearby.  They wondered around seemingly aimlessly, giving him no notice.  The creatures that would attack him in the night disregarded these strange village people.  He explored their village and found books, which he borrowed, leaving them food and some metal in return.

He spent days pouring over the books.

He learned of a strange ‘nether’ place, where strange creatures lived, and glowing stone hung over endless pools of deadly boiling lava.

He learned of strange magics practiced using enchanting rituals and bizarre ingredients.

He even read of strange islands in his own world that were covered in a strange fungus and had giant mushrooms growing on them.  His heart sped up when he read of the ‘mooshrooms’ that roamed them in vast herds.

He prepared for a long journey, taking many tools, supplies, and food.

Once more he set off by boat, skirting continent after continent in search of the mushroom land.

When he found it he stayed the night and was delighted that there were none of the monsters he was now so used to.  Only the mooshrooms seemed to be able to live on the strange fungus land.

He got out his wheat and tempted a whole herd of the animals to follow him.

He swam, leading them back towards his farm.

He set out 9; by the time he ushered them into the pen he’d prepared for them, but 3 were left.

He bred them and made a nice herd of mooshrooms for his very own.

Several days of contentment followed.  But the farmers thoughts turned dark one night, durring a thunder storm.

He dug out a basement for himself and crafted a magical enchantment table.  He began tinkering with the arcane arts.

The farmer would emerge at night, roaming the desert to the west in search of the night monsters.  He slayed them all mercilessly, gathering power to use in his arcane experiments.

He journeyed to the nether and fought even greater foes.  The frustrations of being on fire almost drove him back to the safety of his farm, but he continued on, exploring a strange constructed fortress full of fiery creatures.

With new ingredients, he dared new, powerful potions.

With the eyes of one of the night monsters and the strange substance from one of the fire creatures, he crafted a curious device: when thrown, it hovered up in the air, flying away from him to the south-west.  He followed it, picking it up where it landed.  It took him to the ocean, and he again took to the sea and followed the strange eye-construct.

It led him deep into the earth, to a frightening underground lair.  There he found dungeons and chests and new strange bug monsters…  and the makings of a strange portal.  He’d read that he’d need many of the night-eye devices to activate it.  The books at back at home told of people going into these portals and never coming out…

He went home, still debating what to do about the ‘end’ portal.  He lives on his farm, tending his crops and animals, and taking shelter in his house at night, where the books that tell of the strange places sit on his shelf, staring down at him, tempting him to go back to that underground portal and finish it.

Heh, anyway, that’s the first of my Minecraft sick worlds.

…And then I got food poisoning.  Nothing like Minecraft to take my mind off of stuff like that.

My curent one is a flatland, where I ran from village to village until I had enough material to make an enchanting table.  I vowed that the village that gave me the final diamonds I needed would be transformed into a paradise in the flatland.

So far it has lots of light, is surrounded by trees, has a grassland plains, and a few mountains.  I’m working on a stone (stone!) hall, and have just sectioned off an area free from slimes and lit it well enough so monsters won’t spawn there.  Got a lot of crops growing, and have pens of chickens, cows, sheep, and pigs.  Things are going well.

I like my flatworld.  It’s on hardcore mode though, so if I die, it all goes away.  I’m holding out pretty well so far.  Pics will happen if I don’t die.  🙂