Lore/Story The Corrupted Cave

A snippet of a story I was intending to write a while back, but never finished. My intent was to explore what Wynncraft could look like if approached with a bit more grit and realism.

Enjoy, maybe.

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“Well then, here we are, laddy!” the burly man exclaimed, giving Peter a hefty pat on the back. “Your very first corrupted cave, this is!”

No response came from the boy beside him, who was staring open-mouthed at one of the many skulls mounted around the entrance of the dark hole. The skull gazed back with a stare equally open-mouthed.

The man made a clucking sound with his tongue. “Not fazed by this, are we? I thought you knew what you were signing up for. What did you expect from corrupted caves? Sunshine and flowers? Surely your mum and da must’ve told you something about the Corruption.”

Peter seemed to regain his senses slightly, closing his mouth and swallowing hard. He stammered, “I—well, I know, sir, but—it’s just the first time that I’ve ever seen something like this—”

“Well, you better get used to it quick, then,” the man interrupted, giving the boy a hard stare. “Because if there’s one thing that you’ll learn about the Corruption, it’s that it loves death. It’ll take every moment to emphasize that in its little…projects, let’s call ‘em.”

As if on cue, a particularly foul odor of decay wafted out of the cave.

The man sighed, adjusting some of his weapons. “Sure you’re up to this, laddy?” Peter blinked, his gaze toughening.

“Yes sir.”

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo​

Peter’s first proper step into the cave cracked another skull. He swallowed again, and forced down the buzz of fear that ran through his body. I can do this. I will not disappoint my father.

He reached the bottom of the rough steps and looked around, getting his first few impressions of the cave.

A cold wind seemed to blow through the chamber—odd, as the weather outside was sunny and only the lightest of breezes had been blowing. Hollow echoes whistled, creating a constant background moan. For a short moment, Peter almost thought he heard screams.

The cave itself was oddly small for a chamber containing such evil. Vines hung against slick dark rock, and moss covered rocks and other small objects that Peter didn’t want to think about. A small mound of rubble covered the darkest and most dimly lit section of the cave. It was there that the miasma of decay seemed to be strongest; Peter wished that he could drink a potion to turn off his sense of smell.

For whatever reason, the man seemed oddly interested in the pile of rocks. He was hunched over, turning them over with his hands and muttering to himself.

Suddenly, Peter felt an inexplicable surge of anger rise up within him. He wanted to kill the man—stab him with his own spear—rip the flesh from his bones—watch him scream—

A guttural growl escaped him seemingly of its own accord, breaking his dark train of thought. Peter reeled back in surprise. What had just happened?

The man had turned around to regard him at the sound. “You’re feeling it, then,” he said tersely. “Strongly too—that’s not good. Means mental weakness, vulnerability to dark magic…laddy, with each passing moment, I’m not sure that you’re suited for this.”

Peter felt the wave of anger surge again with this new insult. “Feel what, sir?” he asked through his teeth. His eyes widened slightly. He hadn’t meant to be disrespectful…

“Well, there you go, you see,” the man said, indicating Peter’s clenched fists and teeth. “Corruption magic. It’ll make you feel angry and scared—exactly what you don’t want when fighting this. At least you’re not the weakest you could be…”

“What?”

“If you were one of the weaker ones, you’d be trying to stab me with my own spear and rip my skin clear off right about now.” The man sighed. “Well, if you really want to fight the Corruption, there are workarounds for this type of thing. Training, protective enchantments. For now, though…take this.” He rummaged in his pack for a moment, and then extracted a murky-looking potion.

Peter stared at it in disgust. “What is that?”

The man gave the potion a vigorous shake. It cleared and began to glow slightly, now resembling some form of angelic fruit juice. “Ah, there we go. Sorry about that, it ends up looking a bit dodgy when I leave it in my pack for too long. This ‘ere’s a potion that will help block the magi—”

A howl rang through the cave, loud enough to cause small showers of dust to rain from the ceiling.

Glancing back at the pile of rubble and then returning his gaze to Peter, the man said, “Drink it. Now.” He thrust the potion into Peter’s hands, turned again towards the rubble, and turned to Peter, as if he’d forgotten something. “Oh, careful with the first few sips, there’s a bit of a—”

Peter had barely taken a sip of the potion before it burst out of his mouth in a fine spray. He bent over on his knees, coughing uncontrollably.

“—kick.”

Peter managed to shoot him a glare through his coughs.

“Should be fine now,” the man remarked offhandedly. “Now, when you’re done choking the rest of that down…I want to show you something.”

--

That's the end of the snippet. If you've made it this far, thanks for reading. Try and tell me what you think!

 

No, I am ackro

Good story though, really kinda hooked me in

 

Thanks, Ackro.

That makes me really kinda feel good!

 

Kept me on the edge of my seat til the very end.
Don't do stories kids!

That's a really good piece of writing. And the cliffhanger... :(
Also, wat's the: oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

 

*Laddie

 

tru

 

Fantastic imagery, great choice of words to tell this story. I can't wait for more!