When I first started playing Minecraft a few months ago, I played with a rule: if I die, I have to delete the entire world. Then, I decided to go to hell and back. This is the fourteenth entry in the diary I kept of that experiment - the first is here .
< Day 13
Day 15 >
Shit. There's a Creeper guarding my stuff, directly between me and the sweet sweet lava I need to finish my portal to hell.
In the ongoing war between me and the violently exploding Creepers, the score is three nil: they've killed me every time I've tangled with them. So even with some armour, I'm not betting the whole world this guy won't kill me the second I drop down there.
I need some way of killing him from up here, or shooing him off so I can make a trap or brick him up in a corner. I think bows are a thing, but they're not a thing I have or know how to make. There's no chance he'll wander off on his own - the second I peered over the edge he looked up at me with his horrified expression, and has been staring at me ever since.
What else do I have? A sword, some gravel, a bucket of water... a bucket of water! The deadliest weapon of all! I'll make a waterfall and wash him away. In fact, there's a pool of lava a way behind him, I might even be able to wash him into that.
He has the saddest face, as the current drags him away from me and I quickly lay down a barrier in case he can overpower it. He can't, he just thrashes armlessly as he stares miserably into my eyes, drifting slowly backwards.
He's not going to reach the lava, though, and soon he wiggles his way out of the stream and hops up to the barrier to stare at me some more. I look around the safe zone I've created, spot some lava and scoop it up in my empty bucket.
Sorry dude. If you weren't already wearing your dismayed face, I'd suggest you put it on.
He wilts with a hiss in the magma, I scoop it back up, take down the wall, and get back to spelunking.
I only need one more trip-worth of lava to finish my portal, but I also want to find some more metal to make a complete set of armour before I go to hell.
I'd like to say "I'm not taking any chances," but I'm taking a huge chance - I'm going to hell. There isn't really a safe way to do it, but I'm certainly going to stock up before I leave.
Before long, I have enough metal to turn myself into a walking tin can, and I'm on my way to being ready.
Just so long as I don't fuck up my-