I awoke this morning and felt the world around me had changed. The grass outside my current mining operation was a little darker, the trees a more lush green.
Since we last spoke I moved out. Took a boat trip to a new area, new caves to explore and all that. I’ve begun constructing a series of waypoint and destination towers, and found a rather efficient way of lighting them with falling lava.
I’m still in awe of the way water and lava flows in this world, seemingly for infinity.
I found a book. In it were passages that spoke of a gate to another world. I thought to myself that perhaps this world was home and I could finally return. I followed it’s instructions, a doorway of Obsidian four across, and five tall. With a special incantation, and a spark from my flint and steel, a shimmering violet mass filled the gate. I stood in it for a moment to inspect its strange liquid properties when suddenly I was taken not to my home but a strange Netherworld, terrible and awesome in the same breath. The searing heat sent me scurrying back to the unfamiliar gelatin, hoping it would return me to the place I must now call home.
How wrong I was.
I write this now by the faint violet glow of the shimmering abomination. That obsidian monument to all my hopes and dreams. All I know is that I am underground. Perhaps this portal was here all along, perhaps it was created by some evil magicks of the Netherworld. This matters not to me.
Perhaps if I were to slay myself, I could be returned to the surface, as often happens in the strange place. I dare not return to the Nether for fear that my death there would have undesirable or permanent effects. I wonder what lay in the blackness surrounding me, that great Mystery. Maybe one way leads to a shaft deep enough that I might shatter my bones and return to the surface? That may be the only option left open to me.
Damn my curiosity.