Diary of a Werewolf Steve, Book 2: (an unofficial Minecraft book) by Dr. Block

Author:Dr. Block [Block, Dr.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Eclectic Esquire Media, LLC
Published: 2019-09-25T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

I slept very poorly that night. Every groan of the earth or skitter of a cave spider made me think the pillagers had found me.

I had hoped I had done enough to throw them off my trail. But Ranger was an amazing tracker. I knew, eventually, they would find me. It was only a matter of time.

I assumed that if I couldn’t find a cure in the next couple of days, Ranger would lead the pillagers to me and I would not escape again. They wouldn’t give me the courtesy of speaking with me first again, not after I had escaped from their grasp. They would just kill me.

Somehow, near dawn, I managed to fall into a deep slumber. I awoke with a start to bright sunlight crashing against my eyes. I looked up and saw a shadowy figure standing in front of me. It looked like a villager. I assumed it was Ranger.

I prepared for a swift death, but then I heard, “My name is Trader Joe. I’m here to let you know that I have all kinds of great things, inside my llama’s slings. Only a few emeralds will unlock the trades, that I have in these llama bags.”

With a horrific sales pitch like that combined with his embroidered blue robe, Trader Joe could only be one thing: a wandering trader.

How he had found me tucked in away in a strange cave, I will never know. Yet, there he was.

“You don’t have anything I want,” I said crossly. I pulled a piece of bread from my inventory and chewed it. I was getting sick of eating bread for breakfast. I wanted cooked meat or cooked anything, but I didn’t cook anything because I did not want to risk the smell of cooking meat to lead Ranger and the pillagers to me.

Trader Joe rolled his eyes. “Oh, I’m sure I have something you want.”

I laughed. “Yeah, I doubt it. Unless you’ve got a werewolf cure in one of those sacks, be on your way.”

Trader Joe leaned a little closer to me and whispered, “Did you say you needed a werewolf cure?”

I suddenly had a terrible thought. Was he a spy for Ranger?

I pulled out my diamond sword and held the point to his neck. “Are you spying for someone?”

The wandering trader looked fearful. I saw sweat forming on his brow.

“Oh, no, it’s just that … hurrr ... I know someone who might help.”

I continued to hold the sword point to the wandering trader’s neck, but I thought perhaps he was telling the truth.

“What do you mean by that?”

The wandering trader smacked his lips. “It’ll cost you 100 emeralds to get that answer.”

I pushed the point of the sword closer to his throat. “How about this? You tell me the information, and if I think it’s worth 100 emeralds, I’ll give you 200.”

This kind of “double or nothing” possibility was irresistible to a greedy wandering trader. Trader Joe swallowed hard and then said, “There is a wise old villager in a nearby jungle village.

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