Coming up with a new mod called "Creeper" that grows and kills people. I wrote this during a game while everyone else was playing, and thought I should put it somewhere, because I rather liked writing it.
We angered something. Something ancient. Something in the deep, far below the reckoning of man. This infernal storm grants us no respite or hope of escape from our nether foe. I scrawl in the dim candle-light below deck as my crew desperately seeks to curb its wrath, in vain. I do this so that this parchment might bear witness, as log and warning to the horrible thing we have so foolishly awoken. Our weapons can barely scratch its tumultuous and cancerous hide. It grows as though it were a mold but hundreds, thousands of times faster.
Redluib: "Make sure you tell 'em about the 'orrible, 'oribble smell, arrr!"It reeks of death. It reeks of our doom.
Redliub: "It reeks like that time I had scurvy! Arrr!"Rainwater makes a slick sheen on even the lowest deck, making men trip and fall helplessly in the roiling storm. My crew is the finest on the ocean. Never have there been assembled more talented mariners. And yet I know it is naught. A poke here, a prod there, the savage, unthinking consumer creeps its way into the cracks of the hull. Indeed I have come to think of this being as "The Creeper", dastardly and deadly. The barest touch with The Creeper afflicts a man immediately with a kind of paralysis, and he is soon completely dead. One by one my crew is brushing against this or that small dollop of the monster and succumbing. Only our most foul and poisonous substances seem to phase the beast and slow its multiplication.
Redliub: "I'm beset with fear."The crew is beset with fear. I have never been a man of fear and always led with courage - yet this unknowable, implacable beast has driven from me all hope.
This is Captain Wallet. If you're reading this, get away from here as fast as your means will take you. And pray.
Kaphonaits: "Sir! Come on! We need to get to higher ground!"But think not to pray, to hope or resist, should The Creeper clutch you in its grasp.
Wallet: "Go on without me, Mr. Kaphonaits. I have business to attend to here."
Kaphonaits: "I'm not leaving you, come on. We have to get up to the bow!"
Wallet: "That's an order, Mr. Kaphonaits."...
A PISTOL RINGS OUT(DeathLogo) Mr. Wallet
