#mod endstone

[ask-elementalhermitcraft]

A New Dawn - a collaboration piece between Mod Al (top) and Mod Endstone (bottom)

Our ask box is officially open for elemental!hermit asks! We’re very excited for your questions.

[ask-elementalhermitcraft]

The Problem with People

Hurt/Comfort

Pre-Architech Architechs, Mumbo and Grian

These new people on the island are hard to get a grasp on. Too bad the wind is going to force Grian into every social interaction possible.

Grian paced around the wooden deck of his ship. His footsteps echoed off of the walls, muffled by the water that clogged the wood. The walls felt too closed in. His skin itched to escape to the surface above the water, fly around the empty landscape that once was only a few days ago. He heard the sound of water rushing in his ears, the sound of his footsteps, the sound of dolphins distant. He felt trapped under the ocean.

Chest heavy and head aching, he plopped down on the stairs, putting his head in his hands, thinking about everything that head happened within the last few days.

The portal on the respawn island swirled sickeningly at him every time he visited. No one was around anymore, spread across the world as soon as they appeared. He watched them spread from afar, having run off as fast as the wind once his heart rate went too fast and his head started to spin. He ached to go talk to them but he couldn’t.

The weeks he spent alone in this world tugged at him. His only friends were the animals strolling the land and the whispers in the wind. He had heard it whisper of something new but he ignored it. The nervous energy the week before they arrived was pushed to the side.

He felt a fleeting bit of excitement at the thought of more people to talk to, other than the whispers in the wind. That excitement got dampened with fear.

They were too close-knit he told himself. There were too many. They were loud. They didn’t like him. They had their own things to do.

But he knew he was wrong. There was space for him, some of them head even tried to talk to him before he flew off. He was loud, he was energetic, and he saw them goofing off every single day.

Instead of face his actual fears, he hid under the water where the whispers of the wind wouldn’t urge him to make a connection with the people who had suddenly shown up on the little island he thought was his. The wind knew what he was scared of.

“They aren’t like pets or memories,” the wind whispered to him when he left his ship. “They aren’t going to leave.”

Grian refused to believe that. There was no proof they wouldn’t leave, he would tell himself. He could wake up one day and they’d go back through that portal and he’d be left with just the wind and the animals.

It was better not to make connections that could just disappear.

He was getting claustrophobic so quickly. He couldn’t stay down here forever. Reluctantly, he got into a small boat in the basement of his base and rowed into the dark ocean that surrounded him. He hated the feeling somewhat, being covered in cold water as the whispers of the wind carried him up. He felt a push and shove towards the mainland as he surfaced.

He grabbed hard on the oars of the boat as he felt the wind push him roughly through the water, ruffling and drying his feathers as he attempted to gain control over where he was going. It threw him towards land, salty sea air plastered into his hair, pushing against his back as he tried rowing the opposite direction with all the strength he could muster, which wasn’t much compared to the force of his element on his side.

His eyes were screwed shut, using all his might to push himself along. He felt his heart in his throat as the front of the boat slammed into shore. The force at which it threw him tossed him out of the boat and onto the sand. The wind lightened up quickly, but it had done its damage. Grian slid across the shoreline, sand cutting into his hands and the side of his face as he tried to stop himself from going too far. Sand caught in his hair, in his sweater, in his wings. His shoulder hurt from impact and he had no clue where he was.

He pushed himself off of the sandy shore and open his eyes. They stung slightly from the salty sea air around him, slightly bloodshot from lack of sleep. His skin itched terribly and his sweater was covered in sand, sticking to where the wind had yet to dry it. He looked over to where his boat was. It had turned completely over, upside down in the sand two feet from the water. The oars had gone flying, one next to Grian where he had dropped it and the other ten feet down the shoreline.

He stood up and assessed where he was. Probably somewhere in what the others on the island called the shopping district. He already saw a few shops popping up, built quickly for how little time these people have been here. He looked down at his sweater, covered in sand and sea water. The wind brushed up against him lightly, an apology as well as trying to dry his clothes.

“Just leave me alone,” he grumbled quietly

He took the sand covered sweater off and walked towards the water, ignoring how his t-shirt was also sandy in some parts. He knelt by the water and started to wash his sweater in it, hoping that it wouldn’t be covered in sand forever. Halfway through cleaning it, he felt a presence behind him. He didn’t want to deal with the whispers in the wind right now, his eye twitching in annoyance.

“I said leave me alone!” he exclaimed, turning at the waist and looking up towards the sky.

As he finished his sentence, he actually saw what was behind him. Instead of the ever-present wind pushing against him, it was one of the newcomers to the island. Of course, they were in the shopping district. Grian stared open-mouthed in horror as his eyes met those of a “hermit.” Someone wearing a suspenders in the middle of the summer and with something red covering the cuffs of his dress shirt.

“Are you alright?” the person said after a time.

Grian’s entire body felt cold. He hadn’t seen this person before. As much as he had been watching the hermits from afar for the past few days, this one hadn’t shown his face. That was a problem. He had a game plan for most of them come to any interaction. Doc he would end up running. Scar he would give a quick wave and hello before flying off. Stress he was forced to engage in small talk for five minutes (hence why he stayed out of the ice spikes). He didn’t know what this new person was like.

It was fight or flight.

He was choosing flight.

He quickly took off, brushing off the sand that had stuck in his wings. The sweater flying out of the water splashed the unknown man with a splash of seawater and salt, ruining his clothes somewhat. Grian disregarded upsetting the people who he didn’t care about upsetting (he kept insisting that he didn’t care like if he said it enough times it might be true) and started to fly down the shoreline.

He only got so far before the wind hit him harshly in the other direction, a change of mind of what was on his side only seconds ago. He tried to push past it, bracing himself as he went against the strong winds that made it hard for him to even see. Unable to see and working with all his might against the wind for the second time that day, he felt something clip his wing.

Grian cried out, falling back into the sand as his wing curled inwards in pain. He tumbled head over heels, everything pulling inwards as to not injure himself further. He stopped rolling a couple of feet down, covered in sand once more and his sweater somewhere in the sand out of reach. He brought his wing close, looking over the sandy feathers in disappointment.

He bent it slightly, pressing on the area where it hurt. Nothing felt out of place, nothing was broken in the hollow bone. He was lucky, but it still hurt like hell. If luck was serving him right, he sprained it. His heart dropped to his feet as he realized he couldn’t fly. The wind was blustering around him, a whirlwind that ruffled his feathers and hair. It picked up sea water and swirled around him.

He heard footsteps coming closer and tried to push them away. He heard them falter, the tornado pushing them away. Determined, the person pushed through into the eye of the storm where Grian sat. His face stung, salt water coating it as it swirled around him. He closed his eyes in pain and to protect them from the whirlwind he created.

Something thumped in front of him, making him jump, opening his eyes to the person who was so insistent on their approach. It was the man in the suspenders. He was saying something but it was hard to hear over the wind and water rushing through Grian’s ears. Panic was setting in quickly, spiking as the man touched his injured wing.

The wind concentrated in the tornado shot out towards the man, sending him sprawling backward in the sudden burst. The thump was audible, along with the pained groan.

“Don’t… don’t touch me,” Grian said quietly as he lied to himself.

It took the man a second to get back up. He was only blown about two feet away. He stood up and walked over again. He crouched down in front of Grian, closer to the injured wing than he was to the rest of him.

“Can I see it?” he asked politely, nodding to the wing.

Grian looked between him and the wing, looking like a scared puppy. Slowly, he moved his wing outwards, hesitant to get any help. The man looked at it for a bit, seeing the swelling that was already starting around the joint.

“May I touch it?” he continued.

Grian nodded, though he shifted slightly, ready to run. Gently, the man started to inspect the wing, moving it slightly to see where the sprain was without putting too much pain in the actual joint.

“Can you relax it?”

He did as told and let the joint relax to it natural state. The man held it in place, digging through his pocket for something. Out of the pocket, he pulled a red tie. Quickly, tightly, and securely, he wrapped the tie around the sprain, keeping it in place.

“There,” he said with confidence. “Just take it easy and it should heal up in no time.”

Grian looked at the wing, stretching the joints that weren’t sprained, examining his wing. His brow furrowed. How long would he have to wear this? How long would he be unable to fly?

“What’s your name?” the man said, standing up and brushing sand off of his dress pants. “I heard there was a new guy but nobody could tell me who you were.”

“Grian,” he said, standing up. He looked around for a second, trying to find where his sweater went.

“I’m Mumbo,” the man responded.

Grian spotted his sweater in the sea, about fifty feet out. With an annoyed expression, he pushed the wave closer, scooping under to lift the sweater along with it. A sizable wave formed, carrying the sweater to shore before the water waned once more into the sea. He picked the soaking piece of clothing up, grimacing at the sea smell it carried.

“Water?” Mumbo asked.

Grian raised a brow, almost dumbfounded. He pointed to his wings, and then gestured outwardly and tilting his head. Mumbo took a breath in like he was about to say something, but then stopped himself, nodding and looking somewhat embarrassed.

“Thanks, by the way,” Grian said, willing himself to talk.

“Oh, no problem!” Mumbo exclaimed. “Don’t want anyone seriously hurt around here.”

Grian’s brow furrowed. “Oh,” he said quietly. “Right. Well, thank you, again. It’s good to know someone’s looking out for me.” It was a low blow at the wind, but Mumbo wouldn’t know that. “I’ll be sure to stay away from flying for a bit.”

“Have a nice day!” Mumbo called, rushing away to do other things around the shopping district. “Don’t hurt yourself!”

Grian waved slightly, summoning a wind to dry off his sweater. As he put the warm clothing back on, he considered that maybe connections wouldn’t be horrible if it was more reliable than the whispers in the wind.

[ask-elementalhermitcraft]

Ask Box is Open!

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When Hell Freezes Over

Reposted for formatting issues.

Genre - Frustration/Comfort (when it’s not angsty enough to be hurt/comfort) 2674 words I spent too much time on

Stress, Iskall, Ren, and Grian (aka, the god squad)

This had to be the worst day Stress has had in a long time.

Early in the morning, she filled a backpack full of water from around her fortress and froze it into solid ice. It was freezing cold against her spine, water seeping through her cardigan. With the cold water seizing up her muscles, she leaped through the nether portal in the basement of her fortress.

The effect was immediate as the purple haze cleared from her brain. Any water on her clothes evaporated quickly away, but the ice in her pack stayed frozen. She knew as long as she stayed away from any fire or warmth, she would be just fine, at least for a long while. The bag constantly sizzled as anything that melted off of the ice evaporated quickly, making her constantly look like she was on fire from a distance.

There were chests in the nether that lined the walls, filled with concrete and carpets and glass. End be damned if she couldn’t at least help a little with the nether hub, even if she wouldn’t be using it very often. She grabbed a few stacks of glass, slowly feeling the weight of her heavy bag push down her shoulders and started to ache.

She had gotten through three stacks of glass before she was starting to sweat much more than what was healthy. Her mouth was dry as a desert and she could feel bile in her throat. The ice was not working. She felt like she was going to throw up.

She dropped the bag of ice on the ground, hearing it sizzle as she sprinted towards the nearest portal. She felt light headed and dizzy. Her skin felt like it was melting.

Stress leaped through an unlabeled portal without checking where on the map she was, landing on the overworld with a thump as her chest made contact with the ground. She suddenly felt cold, but still massively dehydrated. She struggled to stand dizzy and nauseous.

“Stress?” a voice called from somewhere that she could make out with her mind in a haze. “Are you okay? How long were you in the nether?”

The voice was getting closer and she could hear footsteps on grass. She braced herself on the portal, feeling the cool obsidian glass on her fingertips that slowly froze at the touch again. She opened her eyes, not remembering when she closed them. Walking towards her was Grian. She sat in front of iTrade, the building towering her in her dizzy state.

“Stress, are you okay?” Grian asked, putting a hand on Stress’ shoulder.

“Um,” she muttered, her voice quieter than normal. “No? Don’t think so.”

“Sit down, don’t throw up,” he said quickly, making an attempt to guide her towards the ground.

She sat on the grass in front of the portal. There was still morning dew on the ground that soaked her. She quickly froze it over, not wanting to get her clothes wet. She heard Grian rush away to who knows where as she sat there. The only sound was the fluctuation of the portal.

Grian didn’t take too long to get back. By the time he did, Stress at her knees pulled up against her chest and the entire ground around her had covered up with a layer of frost that mad the gravel crunch under his feet as he ran back to her.

He crouched down next to her, the morning dew melting at his touch, and handed her a glass bottle of cold water. “Drink it slowly or you’ll throw it back up,” he told her.

Stress barely managed to control herself from drinking all of it at once. She nursed it slowly, her head was still light and was starting to ache, but she took that as a good sign. She slowly drank it down and eventually, Grian brought her a new bottle of water before telling her that he had to go work on something and that she shouldn’t overwork herself at all. She only gave a mute nod and continued to drink the cool water.

About thirty minutes after she left the nether, she felt much better than she had, the moisture in the air and the ice at her fingertips helping her more than she thought it would. She still had a headache that pushed against the back of her eyes and she was a bit dizzy when she first stood up but she was able to quickly take off with her elytra. She wondered if the wind felt bad with her, considering it only took one rocket to take off.

She felt incredibly frustrated. The ice was supposed to work. She’d tested it before for shorter periods of time and she never felt any effects. She wasn’t able to help more than the smallest fraction with the nether hub. She was at a loss. A loss of daylight and a loss of resources.

As she flew over the shopping district, she remembered that she was out of quartz and quickly landed in the central area of the stores, just at the foot of the pond of dead coral and just out of reach of Captain Etho.

She first checked the Grian’s shop, it was the closest. All bought out. She then checked Zedaph’s. Nothing left. Her headache was getting worse as she realized that she would have to find some other way to get quartz, and there was no way she was going back into the nether.

She grabbed a small device out from her pocket and started to type out.

StressMonster101: does anybody have quartz? I can pay.

She didn’t expect a response, so she went to take off back to her base. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she was in the hair, unable to grab anything from her pack. She felt a buzz in her pocket too, indicating that someone was all texting the device. She sighed and quickly landed somewhere in the medieval district. It was hard to see anything past the forest that surrounded her.

rendog: I have some quartz I could give you for 2 diamonds per stack.

Rendog: Not blocks.

StressMonster101: Thank you! Are you at your base?

rendog: At the village I’m working on.

Stress pursed her lips. She, firstly, didn’t know where that was and, secondly, didn’t know why Ren would think that she would.

StressMonster101: I don’t know where that is

rendog: Meet me in the shopping district

She gave out a slight sigh and took off again straight up. The rush of the air in her ears made her head pound and she squeezed her eyes shut as she ascended. She could just barely hear the faint sound of a firework going off as she broke the tree line and shot up into the sky. As she felt the cold air rush against her and throw her air back, she also heard a faint yelling in the distance. Unable to open her eyes against the wind, she turned down for a slow dive and opened her eyes once more.

She only got a fraction of a second to see a red and brown object speeding towards her and making an impact with her side, sending her and the object falling to the ground. Judging by the familiar screaming it also gave as they began to fall, the object that hit her was indeed Ren colliding with her midair.

Both of them tried to pull up, but the tug Stress felt on her shoulder strap that kept the Elytra on her made her quickly realize how quickly Ren and she had gotten tangled up in their wings. Looking down at the quickly approaching tree line, she also realized how quickly they were descending into the trees.

They weren’t very high off the ground in the first place, making their fall through the trees quick, but not as painful as it could have been. In the blink of an eye and the snap of a few tree branches, Stress found herself back on the forest floor, all the wind knocked out of her and her elytra still strapped securely on her back. She couldn’t say the same for Ren. There was groaning coming from a few feet higher in the trees and when Stress looked up, she could see her fellow hermit draped over a tree limb, missing both his elytra and his bag.

It took a few seconds for Stress to compose herself. Pushing herself off of the ground and trying to clear her head of the headache that was only growing. The ground was covered in frost already, some reaching up against the trunks of the trees around her like climbing vines. Her elytra felt much heavier due to the fact both Ren’s elytra and bag were attached to it. Slowly, she detached it from her back and untangled the items before readdressing the RenDog in the tree.

In her busy work, Ren head started to get up and was leaning against the trunk of the tree. The light around him was darker than it should have been like a shadow was cast over him that wasn’t actually there. He held his head in pain, along with his stomach where he had hit the tree branch.

“Are you alive?” Stress asked, still sitting on the grass inside of standing.

“Barely,” Ren joked, opening his eyes. He was quick to compose himself and jump down from the tree, barely wincing at the pain that shot up through his legs from the rough landing. “So, you needed some quartz?”

They both laughed the pain away, commencing a small and quick trade. Stress’ head still was splitting with pain, though, so the quicker that transaction could take place, the better. More than ever did she wish the railway was finished so she could take that inside of trying to fly back to her base without crashing into the side of buildings. Which is something that she did several times. She clipped against the corner of one of ConCorp’s farms and one of the icebergs around her and Iskall’s base. Eventually, though, she landed on the top of her base.

She decided that it would probably be best to sleep this headache away rather than do any work, lest the odd lighting of the lower tunnels send her head spiraling in pain more than it already was. She descended down to the basement, where most of her things still were as she hadn’t moved much of it since finishing most of the actual base.

As she reached the ground, she looked out on an entire mess of things. As usual, there were snow golems everywhere, but significantly less than normal as the nether portal was still open.

“Damn it!” she yelled in frustration, her headache peaking in pain. The frozen ground rippled and wavered, sending shock waves up the wall. Where the ripples concentrated, towering spikes of ice grew from the walls and floor and ceiling. It skewered golems, broke the portal, and threw chests onto their side.

She immediately felt an incoming call buzzing in her pocket. She quickly clicked the button on the side, sending the call to her earpiece. At first, all she heard was rushing water, the sound easing her head temporarily before a voice cut in.

“Hey, Stress,” Iskall said in a slightly nervous tone. It was very hard to hear him, he seemed to be underwater. “The surface of the water above my base has seemed to frozen over and I can’t get out.”

“Are you okay?” Stress asked quickly, her bad mood turning to panic that made the ice spikes shrink and twist into sharper, spindly shapes that curled into thorny vines. “I’m coming right over.”

“Hey, chill out,” he joked. “It’s super cold down here but I have a conduit. Calm down for a bit, I just wanted to see if you were alright.”

Stress sighed, her shoulders dropping in relief. She sat down on her bed and flopped backward. Her legs dangled off the side as she laid horizontal with her bed. She pulled a pillow over from the top of it and set it under her head, feeling almost immediate relief.

“I have a really bad headache and some of my snow golems wandered into the nether because I didn’t close the portal,” she complained. “I also wasn’t able to get enough quartz and almost passed out in the nether… It hasn’t been a great day.”

She heard ice breaking on the other end, making the pain in her head spike suddenly. She visibly winced, but the sound of water went away and the sound of the cold wind replaced it.

“That sounds like a horrible day!” Iskall sympathized, no longer muffled by water. “I’ll be over soon with soup and healing potions.”

Stress laughed and curly up in her bed, throwing a few blankets over herself. “I’m fine now, getting some rest,” she assured. “You don’t need to come over.”

“If you say so…” Iskall said, trailing off slightly. “Talk to you later, Stress.”

“See you later,” Stress said, hanging up as she drifted off into sleep.

Stress awoke to whispers and she thought she was going crazy. Her eyes snapped open to the cold, open area of her basement and quickly scanned over every inch of her base. Chests were still thrown to the side but the ice spikes that head grown from every available surface head melted into slightly risen ice humps that made the floor uneven and bumpy in some places. It hadn’t been the first time this had happened.

She sighed, calming down from her surprise of waking up. She laid back down, staring at the ceiling of her base and the imposing height above her. She saw wings flapping at the ceiling as she closed her eyes to go back to sleep.

Her eyes snapped open and she sat upright in bed, looking up towards the flapping wings. High above her head were three figures, trying poorly to blend into the dark ceiling. Flying up there was a Grian holding an Iskall and a Ren in hand. Iskall was shushing both Grian and Ren, who were whispering, a sound that echoed off of the walls of the basement without much effort.

“Quiet, quiet!” Iskall tried, exclaiming it a bit too loud.

“Guys, she clearly sees us,” Ren said.

Ren was the first to let go of Grian, gliding down on his own elytra and landing on top of the messy pile of chests that Stress was going to have to clean up. Grain flew down, bringing Iskall with him as they both landed on the semi-solid ground of ice.

“We brought soup!” Grian exclaimed, fishing a canister from his pack, along with a couple of bowls.

“And cookies!” Ren added, grabbing a small sack from his side bag.

“And quartz,” Iskall said, taking a shulker box out and setting it on the ground next to her.

Stress swung her legs out of bed, taking the blanket with her as she sat on its edge. She tapped twice on the shulker box and looked inside. Inside was 19 stacks of quartz slabs. Just what she needed to finish the tunnel.

The smile on her face was as bright as the sun. She threw her blanket off, the fabric landing in a pile at the foot of her bed. She leaped over the shulker box and threw herself at Grian and Iskall, who were the closest to her, being actually on the ground and not on a pile of chests. The hug was clunky, Grian and Iskall’s shoulders making hard contact and Stress hitting her forehead against Iskall’s ear, but her chest bubbled with happiness from everything that surrounded her.

“Awe, I don’t get a hug?” Ren asked, climbing down from the pile.

“Get in here you dunce!” Stress exclaimed, laughing along with Grian and Iskall.

So, maybe it wasn’t the worst day she’d ever had.

[ask-elementalhermitcraft]

Question: Why do three people use Fire and why did two different people have Nature for a bit (before Scar became Chaos due to the Vex.) Another question, why did you choose these powers for the Hermits?

To answer your question, a lot of conversation went into deciding everyone’s powers. Though some of the reasons are really arbitrary. I’m gonna explain each in the order that it’s in the notes.

Grian got his powers by being the best flier on the server. That one’s pretty obvious. We also considered that he is the most likely to fall when flying, so having his element be autonomous for the most part was our reasoning. Then Mod Al drew a comic with Grian with wings and we went wild with it. If you wanna see that comic you’re gonna have to ask Mod Al for it.

Stress’ was pretty self-indulgent for the most part. I (Mod Endstone) would not shut up about Bedrock-To-Buildheight’s jukebox night art of Stress ice skating for two days until we decided it worked well with the ice queen

Ren’s was a chain of associations that were… a lot of these are pretty stupid, actually. Ren’s was wolf -> werewolf -> nighttime. We went wild from there and built up more powers on top of it, creating it into something else entirely.

Cleo’s is also easy to track where it came from. Miss Zombie quickly got necromancy based on her obvious association. The ability to control them came from her armor stands on the boat. Consider those… puppets really. Easier than a book, at least.

Scar is one of the two nature involved, though he is both nature and water, dulling them both down to make the power even with the other hermits. It’s mostly linked to his terraforming. Being able to manipulate nature and water to go where you like is so much easier when terraforming and makes the whole process much easier, plus it feels like that when he terraforms anyway.

Cub’s power was one of the last powers we made because it was really hard to find one. I, being very much into the idea of superpowers as a personal default, had a few powers on standby. One I worked with in detail was the ability to manipulate impacts dealt to a person. This would come very much useful for two things: Golf and flinging cakes as far as possible.

Falsie’s is also a progression like Ren’s was, but a lot less weird. False has her association with mirrors and symmetry, obviously. Symmetry isn’t a power though, not that we could think of. The next best was the ability to mirror attacks. We also gave her minor reflection and glass breaking under strong emotions, because we thought it fitted well.

Joe’s major power was brought on by another person’s AU who was involved in the creation. The magic of order would have the ability to heal and fix things around them into the proper order. We decided that it would fit Joe the best. We also gave him the power of instant communication because if anyone had that power, it would always be Joe.

The reason all members of Team ZIT have the power of fire in different variations because… Well, they’re just kinda like that? All of them are destructive, fiery men who like to burn things. To go into more detail, though: We have Tango more melting orientated because we thought it was funny for him to just… eat iron. Mostly because he has the iron farm. We have Impulse as heat because we thought it would be much more precise for redstone uses. Zedaph got lava because of him using lava more than the other two and his current nether base. Considering we mostly came up with these ideas during the civil war, we also accounted for the fact that instead of being in the war, he just built a lava cave in the nether.

Mumbo got redstone because… Listen, do I have to explain this much? He had to lag bust his base because of redstone, I don’t think I have to tell you why we gave him redstone.

Doc got lighting because as soon as he got channeling on his trident he went buck wild. Like immediately. What happened to caring about animals Doc?

TFC ended up getting earth because of him… literally being in a vault the entire season. He’s just been building a cave. The only true hermit.

Python got nature, mostly involving flowers and vines because he’s!!! He’s such a flower boy!!! Sorry, I’m in charge of Python and I might have a slight bias. Python has always been known for his flowers and flower pots. It just made sense.

Biffa is robot man. We needed a reason for robot man. Soul manipulation and moving your soul is a terrifying power and general ghost powers are always fun. But we also needed more combat power for him, so we added astral weapons for power even outside of a possessive body. A lot of people suggested a gun as a joke so we added a crossbow, mostly because we knew it would be added in the next update.

Iskall. Iskallium. Slime Boy. We did need to expand upon it so it wouldn’t be super weak. We… some of us slightly regret not giving him ice considering “Ice Cold” being his name but… Slime Boy man.

Jevin! Jevin. So as far as I can remember this was started around the fact of a slime man having to hold up his own body with his power. As much as we love the bone boy, the idea of him just falling apart if he loses his power for some reason was just very funny to us. We probably talked about this extensively afterward over him just sending everyone flying to the ground if he got upset.

Wels has metalbending because of the fact that he’s a knight. Iron armor and fighting specialty. I’m pretty sure we just thought, “Oh this would be cool.” Some of these aren’t very extensive. Also, Tango bothering him for iron on a daily basis was very funny.

Xisuma’s was predicted by quite a few people actually. The ability to reset the server was a very expected power because of his actual ability to do so. It would also be very important in the case of… emergencies

Evil Xisuma though…We’ll address that at a later date.

[ask-elementalhermitcraft]

Are we allowed to submit writings? I did a short story about Grian having a bad day and the Wind trusting to comfort him, as well as Joe :p

Yes! We have had a few writings submitted to us before and we’re always willing to post and reblog them!

[ask-elementalhermitcraft]

Shot in the Dark

Genre: Another war fic

Characters: Stress, Ren, Impulse, Jevin

Summary: War is stressful and sometimes you just need a little break. The problem is that the other team is unlikely to agree.

The air was chill, colder than the nights before it. The moon was gone from the sky, stars taking its place on the new moon. The ground was covered in frost, reaching from its central point, a silent, seething figure on the sandy river shore.

The fight had started as a skirmish, another chance encounter. She had only been about fishing, something she used to calm her nerves during trying times such as a war. She heard the footsteps, felt the chill down her spine reach the dew covered grass and spread in tendrils. She watched the river freeze over, her fishing line stuck in place as she set down the fishing rod to her side.

The footsteps had stopped when she started to get up, the tendrils of frost reaching outward from where her hand touched the ground. Her observations had been as sharp as cracked ice, ready to strike like an icicle set into an awning.

She turned calmly, her face not one of anger but expectancy. She knew she should’ve done this by her own base, where the fish were sparse but the night was quiet. She was scared to fall too far from the G-Team base, though, worried that they may need her at a second’s notice. She wasn’t very surprised that she was the one that needed them.

Her brown eyes tinged blue met with two pairs in the unlit night. She could hear zombies groan and skeletons clatter in the distance, but none of the three humans made a noise.

There was Impulse, standing with his hands clasped behind his back and glowing brighter than normal. A yellow aura surrounded him, wavering with the heat that came off of his form. He was ready to summon his weapon from behind him at the drop of a hat, the smirk on his face threatening and cocky.

Behind him, a few meters back was Ren, in his prime. His eyes glowed slightly, a charged power inside him giving them a silver tinge. His lips curled up in excitement, teeth bared and legs ready to sprint. He carries a sword with one hand, the blade gleaming in Impulse’s bright aura.

“Hello boys,” Stress said sweetly, testing a smile. “Great night for fishing.”

They could all see the reaching tendrils of frost covering the ground. The wide break it had around Impulse wouldn’t go unnoticed either, though it was only some frost.

“Would only be better if it was raining,” Ren joked, Stress understood the implication.

Her hand, still next to her side, slid into her right back pocket. Inside sat a little button, one she pressed with a simple click. She kept her hand in her pocket, attempting to not look suspicious. It was a 1v2, the odds against her. She needed help, any that would come. She knew she would still have to stall.

“What have you come all the way out here for?” she asked, her voice as relaxed as she could force it.

“To send an ice queen out of commission for one, maybe two days,” Impulse said matter-of-factly. “Think you know anything about it?”

Stress licked her lips, sliding her foot to the side and widening her stance as she removed her hand from her pocket. “What’re you planning for tomorrow?” she played along.

“Nothing yet,” Ren replied.

She saw him start to move but she struggled to catch the movement. A trail of ice started to follow him, nipping at his heels as he sprinted circles around her. She knew better than to take her eyes off of Impulse, though. She saw that glow burn brighter, a red-hot light coming from behind his back.

Preparing her other hand, she glanced quickly to Ren. She immediately glanced back at Impulse, throwing her left hand up into the chilly night air. The frost that had surrounded him solidified and strengthened, shooting upwards in a series of tightly knit spikes that reached their peak mere feet above Impulse’s head. A jail cell of ice, layers upon layers keeping them solid to the ground. It would do little to cage one of the three fire elementals without a little help.

She pulled away the hand that chased Ren’s movement and clasped it with her other. They unclasped, slowly moving apart, matching the pace at which the layers of ice thickened, turning a crinkled blue with frost covering its edges.

With her attention drawn away, Ren changed direction sharply, pushing up grass in the pivot. He kicked off into a sprint again, shining iron sword extended as he held it ready in his right hand. Stress heard his approach, turned too late as she caught the gleam of the sword in her eye before it caught in her side. Iron as cold as ice sliced through her side. Blood soaked her cardigan, though the wound was ultimately superficial. She was still blown back, moving away from the blade and doubling over. She set a hand on the wound, her hand and clothes tacky with blood.

The frozen cage was melting, water flooding the ground as a hot yellow glow came from the inside and through the cracks. She heard the whip crackling and sizzling against the ice. Stress straightened up and faced Ren. She just had to buy some time.

Ren was now about fifteen feet away, blade out and dripping, held carefully in one hand. His stance was wide, one leg more bent than the other as he readied himself to sprint again. He wasn’t at his strongest, but just barely. The new moon only hindered him slightly, but he was still stronger than any of the rest of them.

His leg bent more, he was ready to sprint. As he kicked off, Stress flung her hand towards him, watching a sheet of ice cover the ground between her and Ren. He attempted to stop short but quickly felt the ground come out from under him and his stomach drop to his feet. His back hit the sheet of ice, sending a resounding smack echoing in the night air.

A louder crack came from Impulse’s direction. She snapped her head back to him in time to watch several of the spikes that the cage was made out of slide from their supports and shatter on the ground. Dull light came from Impulse’s form, sending Stress’s heart going ten times faster.

Rapid footsteps came from her left, Ren’s direction. His boots crunched the frost they walked on. She needed to focus on Impulse though. She stepped back, trying to create some more distance between him and her. She saw the light of the G-Team base glimmer in Ren’s sword again, a warning she appreciated but ignored. Her eyes were trained on Impulse. Out of panic or determination, she wasn’t actually sure.

Ren stopped short of Stress, yelling out in pain. He hit the ground, spun backward by his arm. Her eyes tore from Impulse. Ren was flat on the ground, groaning and holding his shoulder. He had let go of the sword so it was sitting at his side.

There were footsteps running rapidly from the G-Team base, armor clanging that reminded Stress that she had left the base without it. She didn’t have time to address them as Ren started to get up, propping himself up with the arm that wasn’t in intense pain.

Stress ran up to Ren and kicked the sword away by the handle. She knelt towards the ground, pressing her knee against his chest to keep him in place. She aimed her hands down at his wrists and shot, forming bolts of ice into restraints that would keep him much longer than they would Impulse. Speaking of… She heard the crackle of fire the clang of sword against iron. She pulled her attention away from Ren, confident that the restraints would hold.

Only one had joined her on the battlefield, at which she sighed in relief. The others needed their rest. Most had been injured in a recent battle. Although they were quick to recover, it wouldn’t be smart for any of their injured to run out onto the battlefield again. Instead, Jevin had joined her, swinging his sword with more force than was normally possible. Impulse was glued in place, feet stuck to the ground and unable to move his limbs with as much accuracy as he usually would have. He lobbed heavy blows of fire in Jevin’s direction, barely missing each hit as Jevin dodged out of the way.

Stress ran back to her fishing outpost and threw open a chest. Out of it, she yanked a quiver of arrows and a loosely strung bow, which she was quick to tighten. She shoved an arrow into the notch, brushing over the flinthead and feeling it chill and sharpen under her fingers, ice coating the tip. She let the arrow loose, watching it fly towards Impulse at top speed. As it entered the area around him, it dropped with the sudden change of gravity. She was lucky when hit his thigh. This time she aimed high, hitting him the right arm. A smile pulled at her lips, knowing they had the upper ground.

A flash of light to her left blinded her, and from the surprised noise, it seemed Jevin as well. There was a distant thump, a few feet away from where Impulse once stood. When Stress’ eyes readjusted, she saw Impulse thrown against a knoll, though with almost no physical side effects besides being thrown off for a second. He quickly recovered, pulling himself to his feet as Jevin continued to try to recover his vision.

Impulse sucked in a breath. Stress’ heartbeat skipped. He blew outward, holding a finger in front of his mouth like a whisper. The resulting flame carried outwards in a cone of fire, encompassing Jevin in the blast.

Jevin yelled out in agony. Stress could hear bubbles pop sickenly, making her stomach churn. When the fire cleared, Impulse having run out of breath, she saw the slime that made up Jevin’s form bubble and steam, boiling in the intense heat. He was grimacing in pain, kneeling down with a sword in one hand and the other on the ground as he pushed himself up. Impulse looked cocky for a few seconds before Jevin made a sharp nod upwards.

Impulse flew into the air, turning upside down at first in surprise before gaining control over his position again. He looked down to see the ground far, far below him. If he fell now then he would be fine, but if Jevin used his power further…

He sucked in another breath subtly, watching Jevin get up and look away temporarily. He was weak, it was clear.

“Doing alright Stress?” Jevin asked, though from the grimace he still held and the fact his form still bubbled and steamed it would be smart to worry for himself.

“Yeah, I’m-” she started, her brow knitted in concern.

A yellow-hot light caught her eye. She pushed off from her standing position, sprinting towards Jevin. The ground under her turned to ice, spreading out like vines with each step, reaching the river in her speed and power. Heat drew closer, making her sweat profusely, her head started to get light. Her breathing was quick and she barely worked up the energy to keep sprinting.

She jumped, the step where she took off spreading ice that quickly shot up into sharp spikes to follow her feet. She felt her hands connect with Jevin’s shoulder and push off, sending him sprawling against the ground and barely out of the range of the cone of fire that was quickly incoming.

> StressMonster101 went up in flames

> ImpulseSV experienced kinetic energy

[ask-elementalhermitcraft]

Imagine, tango has bone replaced with lava

Well, we tried…