Story #1- The Legend of the Endermen

Greetings readers! I am pleased to bring you my first story. It’s a fan fiction piece written about a monster called the “Enderman” in the game Minecraft. This short story attempts to explain the origins and abilities of the Endermen in a way that fits in with the open-ended survival fantasy world of the game. To understand this story, you must know a few things about Minecraft and the Endermen:

-In Minecraft there are two realms, the normal world and the Nether realm, which is basically a hell realm.
-The Nether realm is accessed only by building a portal out of obsidian blocks and setting fire to it.
-Endermen are dark, shadowy figures that are only found in dark caves, abandoned mines or abandoned strongholds (dungeons) in the game.
-They are the only monster (other than the player) in Minecraft that can pick up and move blocks which the entire world is made out of.
-They are peaceful until you look directly at one, at which point they teleport to you and attack.
So without further ado, please enjoy “The Legend of the Endermen”:

The Legend of the Endermen

            There was once a proud and noble race of builders whose great constructions reached up to the sky to tickle the clouds, and whose vast mines and strongholds delved to the bottom of the Earth. These masterful beings had everything they needed and were at peace with each other and the world around them. Harnessing the power of the Redstone Dust found deep in their mines, they built complex machinery. Their smiths forged tools of diamond and rare ores, which the Ancients had in droves.

Living in harmony with the Earth, they harvested the rich resources around them responsibly. When a tree was cut for its wood, two more saplings were planted. Great fields of wheat were cultivated. Chickens and cows were kept only for their eggs and milk. The Ancients lived off of cake and were happy.

There were some among them though, who sought more. Already did their race possess every earthly power. Already was the entire world at their disposal. This ancient race of builders lacked mastery over all things save one: death itself. This power was what the Dissenters yearned for. It was through no evil whim or perverse desire that the Dissenters brought about the destruction of their ancient race. It was pride and powerlust that toppled their towers and tainted their souls.

The spark of their temptation came from rumors of another realm… one spoken of only in whisper. It was said to be a hellish place, a plane of existence beyond the Void. In hopes of attaining the power to stay death’s hand, the Dissenters sought out forbidden rites and long-hidden secrets. Through these dark machinations, the Dissenters finally devised a way to enter such a realm. By engulfing a doorway of black Obsidian in flame, the Dissenters allowed the essence of the unholy realm to leak forth and passage was opened.

The first to enter through the portal were greeted by the oppressive heat of ever-burning fires and endless lakes of lava. Great floating creatures, the corporeal embodiment of suffering, drove the first explorers back with balls of fire.

They were dismayed at first. The Ancients cried foul and were fearful of this Nether realm. The wisest of their race demanded the destruction of the portal. But with the promise of power ringing in their ears, the Dissenters took heart. Surely if they could master such a realm, they would gain power enough to stop death for eternity! After many more voyages into the Nether, the Dissenters beat back the oppressive Ghasts and established a foothold in that terrible domain.

The Dissenters began attempting to harness the power of the Nether, first experimenting with animals brought from their Earthly homes. Some success was achieved with pigs, but instead of imbuing everlasting life, the poor creatures were twisted into something half man and half pig. The noble race had created a new race of monsters to fear, and so exiled them into the wastes of the Nether, hoping that the eternal fires of that place would erase their experimental mistakes. The Dissenters were scorned all the more for their twisted experiments on innocent lives, yet they pressed on in their quest undaunted.

After many more years the Dissenters found the power they had sought by successfully focusing the Nether powers into themselves. But pride always exacts a price… In seeking to control death itself, the Dissenters doomed their race. They achieved immortality, but at too great a cost. Their souls were split between essences in the Nether and the Earth. They had become as shadows: half here, half there. They had become monsters.

Abandoning their majestic structures and creations, the once proud race sought out darkness, more kindred to their altered forms than the light of day. Secluding themselves in hidden places within the bowels of the Earth, the Ancients who once ruled over the wide Earth now emerged to walk only at night. As their once magnificent towers crumbled, they tried to rebuild their glories by night- slowly, piece by piece. Their spirits faded into the Nether and their numbers lessened. Their mines lay abandoned, home now only to cobwebs and forgotten treasures.

Meanwhile another race of men began to rise in the world, less in majesty yet less in pride. They built over the ruins of the ancient race, erecting meager homes of cobblestone where once glistening towers of gold challenged the sun itself in beauty. The abandoned mines and strongholds were regarded with superstition and fear- haunted relics of an unknown age.

Shadows of their former selves, their creations ruined and forgotten, the Ancients hid in shame from the sight of this new race. To keep the shame of their downfall a secret, they killed any men who so much as glimpsed them. Their souls were bound to this world and the hellish domain beyond, and they could teleport quickly between worlds to close on their victims in an instant, leaving none to tell the tale.

As their race passed into myth, the Ancient ones became known only as the Endermen, the shadows that haunt the night. The glory of their race had ended and was forgotten, fallen victim to the poison of pride.




Hello and welcome to Nerd Rage Storytime, a blog created by me, JimminyJoJo, to share some short stories.

I have no idea what kind of stories these may be, so come prepared for anything!