KriegAn original E.C.C Novel by Welikeike22 Prologue Krieg; From the German language, meaning ‘War’: see “Blitzkrieg”, “Religiöse Kriegsführung“, and “Klasse Kriegsführung”. War is something which has ravaged the very face of Mincraftia since its creation trillions of years ago. From the newest archeological records we can date, the predecessors to the modern day Skeletons and Pigs fought against eachother in massive battles. What primitive tools we have left, dating as far back as 2,300BN, tell us that the logistics of these wars haven’t changed very much in thousands of years we've existed on this floating cube. Yes, the tools which we have fought our wars with have changed over time, but the very reasoning for warfare has remained unchanged. To this day we see the remnants of those who battled long ago, their skeletons roam the hills in the late of night, and our genealogical ancestors, the very Pig-Men we have evolved from, still roam the fiery pits of Tartaros, ready to take their world back, side by side with Hades. In this modern world, time and time again we think to ourselves that we are above those who fought against eachother years ago. We believe that, for some reason, the inventions we have made to kill our fellow Steve have pushed us above those who fight with mere hands and golden sabers millennium ago. Are we really that different, though? The sword and saber still remain, though they are fought with side by side with machine and bow. Day by day we create newer, faster, better machines which we claim “technological breakthroughs”, whose sole purpose is to kill our fellow man. We marvel at massive vessels launched whose sole purpose is to annihilate entire coastal cities in one barrage, we cheer and jar at massive aircraft capable of wiping out an entire city with a sing bomb, and we are absolutely fascinated with every new weapon produced, every new sword enchanted, and every new type of arrow produced. Today, we march behind flags, and towards annihilation; a witty tune helping us along the way. Our bows light people on fire, our swords make people fly into the heavens, and the “best” of us have seemingly magical abilities after training for lifetimes. War has advanced, yet civilization has regressed. No longer do we pass on the tradition of wealth. Old money is rare, and new money is spawned, its worth meaningless. Our actions are driven by money, and convicted by - Krieg Feel free to comment. I haven't written a story in around a full year, so i'm a bit rusty.
Chapter 1Dawn The dawn awoke across the beautifully manicured grounds of a hundred year old manor. The landscape gave off an air of elegance and regality, every blade of emerald grass was perfectly kept, every bush carefully trimmed, and every tree perfectly symmetrical to all of the others. A smooth breeze floated across the grounds, opening the flags which were carefully being attached to the flagpoles by tall, sleek men clad in Jet-black uniforms. Every movement was regimental, their unfurling of the flags careful to follow military and national tradition as they raised them high into the sky. A brass military band broke the peaceful atmosphere, playing a song in honor of the flag as it rose. The steady drum beats rolled across the grounds, over hills and throughout the country side, just as they did every morning at the same moment. The glare of the rising sun glanced off the silver and gold medals adorned on the chests of every member of the military present, both in the band and slowly filing out of buildings surrounding the manicured garden. No second was lost in their rush to their posts, the morning had begun and soon their day would begin. The dim, blue lighting broke into a bright ray of sunlight as the flags slowly rose into the sky. Three bands of color broke the blue of the morning sky, their colors representing the whole of a people. The black and white horizontal stripes represented the Prussian people, and their empire. This Empire, the Prussian Empire, was one which had ruled across the whole of Minecraftia for centuries. Other forces had risen and fallen, but no force could match both the ideology and the will of the Prussian people. The quiet morning air was filled with nothing but the fluttering of flags, and the songs of the native birds which floated about the beautiful grounds. This was the sound of paradise to every Prussian, for this sound meant peace. This was a people who had fought for every inch it rightfully owned for the past century, and the sound of birds meant the sound of peace. This sound was soon broken, however, and the sound of the heels of a regiment of military boots could soon be heard throughout the grounds, the steady click, and the barking of orders from a man clad in a Black uniform, adorned with innumerable Glistening medals, broke such a beautiful calm. Inside this ancient, imperial manor, resided the King. The Prussian people referred to him as ‘Der Kaiser’, and he ruled the whole of the empire. His might and his power stretched far across the world; ever where his nation’s armies and language stopped, his reputation and the will of his people shaped unexplored lands. This undisputed leader had ruled for decades, bringing prosperity to his people, though the same could not be said for his enemies, and his allies. Behind these walls lived a man who had turned on his closest overseas allies time and time again. From betrayals in time of peace, to secret attacks against an ally when they needed him the most, he had proven himself un-trustable from the point of view of most foreign nationals. There were few people who didn’t live within his sphere of influence whom he hadn’t sailed down the river for a few more feet for his nation or another load of iron for his next great battleship. A young boy, No older than Seventeen, could be seen racing through the massive grounds of the manor. He, like all other men there, was inevitably a member of the military, though his age relinquished him to the duties of messenger boy. Never the less, he represented the “perfection” which the Kaiser demanded from his personal guard battalion; a perfect physical specimen who stood for the ideology of the Kaiser and would stop at nothing to protect him. This was the expectation of every member of the Liebgarde, or Life-Guard of the Kaiser. They were trained early on, as children, what their duty to their leader was. He rushed through the grounds at breakneck speed, jumping over hedges and almost slipping into the massive granite fountain which flowed clear, blue water from its peak. The teen’s steps could be heard throughout the grounds, and men from within his own regiment looked from their current actions as they saw the messenger boy they had known for years run at a speed never before seen. He carried with him a letter, halfway shoved into the Tunic of his uniform and held against his chest by a medal around his neck. Before him, a guard stood on either side of the large, carved doors of the manor. They shifted, one pulling the left door open as the other stepped in and made room for the charging messenger. He blasted through the doorway, pulling the paper from his tunic and holding it in the air as he burst past a group of patrolling guardsmen in the long, ornate halls of the manor. He rushed down the hallway, unflagging in his goal. Behind a large, wooden desk sat a man who seemed to reek of nobility. His very posture in the large, pine-wood chair would make one feel inferior to him, and that discounted the chest full of medals ordaining his tunic. He sat quietly, his fountain pen slowly skipping over paper after paper, jotting down notes to himself on a pad next to himself. A crackling record player projected the smooth music of a record clearly decades old, the woman’s rum-like voice sang about a woman named “Lili Marleen”. He pushed a sheet off of the desk, and picked up another, slowly reading line for line, slowly writing notes on what appeared to be a productive diamond mine running dry. Closer inspection of the notepad he wrote on presented more apparent bad news. Inefficient Cobblestone factories and inexperienced miners breaking the best tools available in the world were just a few to name. He slowly shook his head, setting the fountain pen down and slipping the pile of unread papers into a drawer in his desk, before rising from his seat. He moved across the room, picking up a military visor cap, slowly pulling it onto his head as he shouted “HANS” at the top of his lungs. The door to the office swung open, and a manicured soldier, just as all the rest, stepped into the room, snapping to attention and saluting before inquiring about his Kaiser’s request. “How may I assist you, My Kaiser?” The man stated. “How is the weather today? Do you think I will need an overcoat for my morning walk?” Hans slipped his hand into his tunic, pulling out a folded sheet of paper, and read it aloud. “Today’s weather calls for an 18-Degree high, with few clouds and a Five Kilometer per Hour wind to the west, Sir.” “Beautiful! I won’t require an overcoat. Thank you Hans, Dismissed.” The soldier snapped a second salute, and stepped out of the office, closing the door behind him. He slowly moved to the record player, watching it slowly rotate, coming to a stop as the song ended, and the arm rose, returning to its resting place. He picked the record up, slipping it back in its case and placing it beside the player, before turning to the door, preparing to leave. The second he stepped through the doorway, he was presented with a sheet of paper from a rather tired messenger boy. He received a salute, and took the paper from the boy, welcoming him into his office, though he grimaced at the thought of his morning walk being delayed. He sat at his desk, slipping his glasses on to read over the type-written letter, before inquiring about the message. “I haven’t seen you this tired since the Berliner Fußball-Verband won against the Aurorians. What could be so important?” “My Kaiser” the boy panted “There’s been a terrible incident” “You could not possibly be more nebulous than that. Give me the telegram!” He snatched the paper from the messenger boy, and dismissed him, setting the letter down on the desk and picking up his fountain pen, skimming over the letter before he froze. He shouted “WILLHELM” at the top of the lungs, and within seconds the same messenger boy whom he had dismissed seconds before was standing in front of his desk, the door being pulled closed by the guard infront. “How accurate is this information, Private?” He demanded “Sir, My Kaiser, Sir - We checked the information four times. Its one hundred percent accurate…” “Very well… you may go.” The boy saluted, and stepped out of the room, the door swinging shut behind him. The Kaiser sat alone at his desk, his fountain pen dripping ink onto the sheet below him. He kept reading the message over and over to himself aloud. “The Celestians have torpedoed and sunk the Badenweiler, flying under the flag of the green menace...” He set the pen down, pulling his glasses off and rubbing his face in angst. “What are you going to do now, Viktor…” Feel free to comment.
I personally love this story, I got to see it before and I absolutely love your style Ike, I hope you keep writing and continue to share it. I think you should go into historical fiction or historical writings because I know you love history and you are an amazing writer.
Lets gather round the canpfire and sing our campfire song. Our c-a-m-p-f-i-r-e-s-o-n-g song Our c-a-m-p-f-i-r-e-s-o-n-g song. Hören Sie sich den geliebten Führer welikeike22!
