Scuttlebutt Brightly and the Creeper's Fuse Trilogy

By Mark Mulle

This is the diary of Scuttlebutt Brightly! A dashing, swashbuckling treasure-hunter who spends his time looking danger in the face and laughing. Only problem is, Scuttlebutt is a teensy bit of a COWARD.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mark Mulle
• Release date: May 23, 2024
• ISBN: 9798869393593

Book preview

Scuttlebutt Brightly and the Creeper’s Fuse

Book 1: The Adventurer from Bilgewater

Mark Mulle

PUBLISHED BY:

Mark Mulle

Copyright © 2016

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Book 1: The Adventurer from Bilgewater

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Book 2: The Rising of the Redstone Sun

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Book 3: The Admin Key

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Book 1: The Adventurer from Bilgewater

Chapter One

Well done. You’ve started to read this book. That’s a good sign, reader. Settle down. I’m sure we’re going to become firm friends by the end of this.

Perhaps introductions are in order. My name is Scuttlebutt Brightly. Perhaps you’ve heard of me? No? Well, you have now. I’m known throughout Minecraftia as the most cunning, courageous, and charming renegade ever to call himself an adventurer. However, dear reader, I’ll let you in on a secret. I am none of these. I am, quite frankly, as cowardly as a skeleton at sunrise and as weasly as the greasiest slime. However, I’m also as sneaky as a Creeper in slippers.

So settle in, reader, and I’ll tell you the story of my adventure to Creeper’s Fuse. The time I met with quite a colorful bunch of adventurers, went on a perilous quest to the far reaches of the earth, and faced dangers – the likes of which you can’t imagine. I know that doesn’t sound like the cowardly, fraidy-cat I just described, does it? Well, let me tell you the story, friend. And I promise that every word I say is the truth. No lies or tricks with you, dear reader, only the honest facts.

The story of Creeper’s Fuse began, rather curiously, with a chicken. I’d been spending some time around the town of Bilgewater, a busy seaside port where all manners of unsavory folks gather to trade stories, and goods, and (more often than not) lie through their teeth about the brave adventures they’ve had. My kind of place.

I got friendly with an innkeeper there, a fellow by the name of Steerpike. Steerpike ran The Mossy Cobble Inn with a kind face and a warm smile. All the warmer, once you’d paid him for a room. Only he was having some trouble. His prized chicken, Betsy, had gone missing. Chased off by wolves, he said. I, being the upright noble hero that I am, volunteered to track the chicken down. And, naturally, claim a handsome reward for my trouble.

So it was there I found myself wandering over the hills north of Bilgewater. Crying out Betsy! or Where are you? You miserable sack of feathers! and other such things. I was so busy searching for the chicken, that I didn’t notice that the sun was going down.

I was standing by some beech trees, wondering how a chicken could be worth all this trouble, when it happened. Somebody hidden behind the trees yelled Duck!

I’m not looking for a duck, I said, irritated, I’m looking for a chicken.

No! Get down!

A figure came charging out of the woods towards me. My stomach somersaulted. A creeper. Those explosive devils haunt every Minecraftian’s nightmares. His eyes were black as obsidian, and his face a hideous snarl.

The creeper crashed into me, sending me toppling backward. Seconds later, an arrow flew through the air. Had the creeper not pushed me, it would have hit me square in the head. Instead, it slammed harmlessly into a tree with an ominous twang.

The creeper turned towards the source of the arrow. A pair of skeleton archers, hiding in the shadows. It stared at them with those fearsome eyes, sizzling quietly. Then (and I promise you, reader, every word of this is true) the creeper began to speak! A soft, calm voice that sounded like rustling leaves.

Get out of here, hissed the creeper, Or I’ll blast you into pieces and make a xylophone out of your ribs.

Skeletons are not the smartest of creatures (they have no brains, you see). But even they understand that a talking creeper is quite unusual. The skeletons didn’t need telling twice. They turned tail and ran, disappearing into the forest.

Now as I said before, despite my dashing good looks and heroic charm, I am not a brave man. Quite the reverse. So I’ll be honest, when the talking creeper looked at me, I screamed like a squealing pig.

Pull yourself together! said the creeper, Do you want more of them to come?

You…you…you can talk?

Yes, I know, said the creeper. He sighed, Relax friend, I’m not going to explode. I promise.

How can you be sure?

We creepers only explode when we’re scared, he said, with something that might have been a smile, And I’m not the one who’s shaking.

I clambered to my feet. A talking creeper? Whoever heard of such a thing? Not only that but a creeper who’d saved my life. And I still hadn’t found that chicken. This was too much for one day.

My name is Soot, said the creeper, I’d offer to shake your hand, but…

You don’t have hands, I understand. I tried a hearty laugh, Sorry I, uh, panicked a little bit back there. You know how it is. Creepers don’t normally stop to say hello before going the full ka-blam, am I right? I’ve had too many close calls recently. I’ve just got back from the Driftwood Islands, they’re crawling with the little green devils…oh, uh, no offense.

None taken, said Soot. His eyes had lit up, Did you say The Driftwood Islands?

That’s right, I said, Just come back from a daring voyage over the stormy seas. That was mostly true. Only the seas had been nice and calm, and the mission wasn’t very dangerous – I’d gone to deliver wheat to the islanders.

Soot gave that sort of smile again, Are you looking for another job?

Is the pay good?

Very good. What did you say your name was?

Scuttlebutt Brightly.

Alright Mr. Brightly, listen up. You get me inside Bilgewater, and I can offer you a job that’ll make you rich beyond your wildest dreams.

I’ll admit, I had my doubts. It was, after all, a job offer from a talking creeper. Can’t say I was comfortable with the idea of going on a quest with a fellow who might explode if he ever got frightened.

But there’s something you’ll soon learn about Scuttlebutt Brightly. I might be as chicken as a creeper in cat country, but there’s very little that my love of gold won’t overcome.

Chapter Two

Two hours later I returned to The Mossy Cobble Inn with a chicken in tow.

Oh, Mr. Brightly! Steerpike beamed, You’ve found my Betsy! Thank you, Mr. Brightly, thank you!

You’re very welcome, I beamed.

Where did you find her?

In the hills just to the north. I had to fight off a horde of skeletons for her, I lied. I still had no idea where the real Betsy had gone. I’d bought this chicken down in the market. A bargain at three ingots.

You’re a brave man, Mr. Brightly, said Steerpike, However can I repay you?

Well, I coughed, A few gold ingots would be…

Steerpike laughed, Oh, I don’t have any gold.

No gold?!

No, he smiled, I’ll cook you some pork chops as a thank you.

Yes, I said slowly, Pork chops. Fine.

Steerpike beamed, Florabel! Come see this, Mr Brightly has found Betsy for us.

Florabel was Steerpike’s daughter, who worked as a barmaid in the inn. Pretty girl I’d always thought, with long blonde hair and eyes like fresh emeralds. But she was clever too. That could be a problem.

Florabel took one look and shook her head, That’s not Betsy.

What? scoffed Steerpike, Don’t be silly, child. Of course, it’s Betsy.

That’s not even a chicken, said Florabel, That’s a duck, look!

Quack, said the chicken.

Ah… I said, Well, uh…ducks lay eggs too you know. Bigger ones, better than chickens do.

They do not! said Florabel.

They do, I lied, You ask my opinion, Steerpike, you’re better off with this fellow than you are with Betsy anyways.

Quack! agreed the chicken.

Maybe you’re right, nodded Steerpike, ignoring his daughter. He was almost too easy to persuade. If you told Steerpike the sky was green he’d say he’d always thought so.

That’s rubbish, said Florabel. You might as well say that cows can race mine carts. Or Creepers can dance the tango!

By the way, I said to Steerpike, before Florabel could say anymore, I don’t suppose you’ve seen some friends of mine today, have you? A tall fellow with a diamond sword, and a man in a red coat?

Those two? said Steerpike with a trademark bartender’s frown, I saw them, yeah. Strange looking like a pair. They went upstairs, and rented out room four.

Thanks, friend.

Quack! said the chicken.

I left Steerpike and Florabel to argue over the chicken. Or the duck, it didn’t matter. She’d served her purpose and distracted the pair for just long enough for me to head over to the tavern’s back door where, as we’d planned, Soot was waiting.

The coast is clear? asked Soot.

As planned.

What about Professor Fairweather and Mr. Cantankerous?

Upstairs, room four, I said.

Excellent, said Soot. He crept towards the tavern stairs. Being a creeper, he was very good at it. Follow me, Mr. Brightly. I suppose you’ll be wondering what this is all about.

Chapter Three

When we reached room four, Soot paused at the door. He turned to me, Uh, Mr. Brightly, could I ask another favor?

What?

Could you knock on the door for me please?

Certainly.

I gave the door a polite tap with my fist. Soot jittered from side to side impatiently. It must be irritating, having no hands.

Who’s there? a gruff voice asked, What do you want?

Lapis Lazuli can be used to dye things blue, said Soot.

A pause. I know, said the voice, Why are you telling me?

Ernest, that’s the password! said another voice, this one smart like a schoolteacher. It means it’s Soot.

We have a password now?

Open the door!

The door swung open. Room four looked like any room at an inn might look. Made of wood planks with a woolen bed and a small chest for storage. Inside were Soot’s two companions. A towering fellow with a diamond sword and fearsome scowl, and a bookish man with glasses and a red coat. Both stared at me as we entered the room.

Who’s this fella? asked the gruff one. He shut the door behind us at once. We couldn’t have some passer-by notice a creeper in the inn, could we? Innkeepers don’t take kindly to creepers.

This is Mr. Brightly, said Soot. I met him on my way here. He’s an adventurer, he knows the way to the Driftwood Islands. He’ll be our guide.

The gruff one looked me up and down, Aren’t you a bit small for an adventurer?

All the better for death-defying jumps, I grinned. And all the better for hiding, too.

Mr. Brightly, said Soot, turning to me, These are my companions, he nodded to the gruff fellow. This is Ernest Cantankerous, an adventurer like yourself.

A fellow rogue, I smiled. Ernest did not. It was like his mouth was stuck in a frown position.

And this is Professor Dinglebert Fairweather, from the Stonewall Academy.

Dandelioned to meet you, Mr. Brightly, he smiled, Positively dandelioned.

Don’t you mean delighted? I asked.

Delighted, yes, said The Professor, That’s cricket.

The Professor has malapropism, explained Soot, He has problems with long words.

So, I said, as brash and brazen as possible, You wish to travel to the Driftwood Islands, yes? Why, may I ask? There’s nothing there but palm trees and angry creepers.

I wasn’t always like this, said Soot. I used to be an ordinary creeper, just like any other. But I was found by a sorceress. One with powers, unlike any normal human. Using her words, she gave me the power to speak and think.

I see, I said. Sorcerers and magic were fairy stories to me back then, but I couldn’t deny what my eyes were seeing. If the talking Creeper was real, then perhaps there was some truth in this sorceress too.

We’ve heard that someone similar now lives in the Driftwood Islands. On the island known as Creeper’s Fuse, said Professor Fairweather, Someone with spatula powers.

Spectacular, Ernest corrected with a grunt.

Indeed, said Fairweather, And not only that, the reports also say this sorcerer has collected a vast Trevor!

He means treasure, said Soot.

My ears perked up, Treasure?

Yes, said Soot. Our quest is a simple one, Mr. Brightly. I wish to go and find this sorceress.

What for?

That’s not important, the Creeper said. You will guide myself and Professor Fairweather to Creeper’s Fuse, to talk with this sorceress. Ernest will act as our bodyguard. In return, the pair of you may take your fill of any treasure we find.

I’ll admit, I had my doubts that day. Could I work for a Creeper? It’d be dangerous, a trip to Creeper’s Fuse. There’d be many perils to