Previously on Hounded Out: I have brought food, and have made peace with the townies. But after spending the night in the cursed place, my precious dog, Goat, has been taken to Hell.
I'd never been to Hell. It seems obvious, right?
I never go to hell because of course I don't. Why would I want to? Spare me your "endgame" nonsense. My endgame is mapping the sea. It's leaping from a mountain into a natural lake. It's a purely decorative mine. It's saving my goddamn dog.
]]>Previously on Hounded Out: My dogs and I narrowly survive a heroic rescue of the townies in their sinister underground excavation. Our generosity rebuffed, we head North, seeking peace in the wilderness.
Travelling with three easily distracted dogs makes it difficult to get lost, as you retread your path every few minutes to retrieve them. This has probably saved me from getting lost for months, although it has happened before and since.
]]>Previously on Hounded Out: Outraged by a fence, I abandon my post as the town's resident Wynonna Earp, gather my dogs, and head North, away from the cursed settlement.
We didn't get far. However nomadic you are, Minecraft is simply too dangerous at night to travel for long.
]]>You may have noticed that some of us have been playing a lot of Minecraft lately, topical, finger-on-the-pulse website that we are. Nate set up an unofficial RPS server, prompting everyone to clack together wood and stone and iron to carve their creative path through the chasm-marked green idyll we appeared in. We'll turn the dangerous ravine into a harmless water feature, the gang said. We'll drive out the monsters and tear down the trees they shelter under, and civilise the land, they said.
Well not me, my friends. Not bloody me.
]]>
