Hermitcraft 8: Moonfall (to be rewritten soon)

Boatem

(Pearl POV)

For the second morning in a row, I got woken up by people yelling, but this time with rumbling and the roar of an engine.

"What is going on!? I yelled, ripping away the tarp, and my jaw dropped. A massive vehicle that looked like a mixture of a boat, truck, and medieval house rumbled past, Grian directing it. An old, blue van followed closely behind it. But most curiously, it was dragging an old, upside down Spanish Galleon. Curious, I hopped down and watched as the truck pulled the ship and dropped it off about a hundred yards from the boat pole. The blue van split off, heading the opposite way. I could see Mumbo driving it through the dirty, sun bleached windshield. I ran over to Grian.

"What's going on?" I asked him as Scar emerged from the truck, sporting a red and green top hat. Grian looked exited.

"We found this cave along the shore with an insane amount of stuff in it, like Mumbos new van, Scars wagon, and this ship for you to make a base out of." He said.

"Swaggon." Scar corrected as I said, "Wait you're giving me the ship?" Grian nodded at both.

"Cmon, Pearl, I'll show you. Race ya!" Grian said, and bolted.

"No fair!" I yelled, laughing and running after him.

. . .

He was right about it being a jackpot. It was filled to the brim with chests, crates, and even bigger stuff like full on ships, and giant hourglasses. The walls shined with diamonds, rubies and gold

"We haven't opened any chests yet. You wanna check 'em out?" He asked, walking over to one. He frowned.

"Um. This one has your name it." Grian said, and stepped aside. I walked to it, confused.

"You pulling my leg right now?" I asked, but he didn't need to answer. I could see it. And right next to it was one for Grian. And another for Mumbo. One for Scar. Another for Grian. All of them had our names on it.

"That's... creepy." Grian said.

"No shit Sherlock." I said, rolling my eyes and drawing my knife. I slammed the hilt into the lock, putting a small dent in it.

"Hit it at the point between the handle and the main box of the lock." Grian advised. Sighing, I listened. Sure enough, it popped open. But what was inside was enough to make me forget about the names.

.  .  .

"What..." Grian said, eyes wide. A nervous lump sat heavy in my gut.

Guns. The chest was filled with guns and munitions. I gingerly pulled the top one out. Some kind of assault rifle with a Crescent Moon painted on it. The magazines inside the chest were already loaded.

"Mumbo, get down here. We have a situation." Grian said into his watch.

"What? What happened?" Mumbo said.

"Just get down here, dude!" Grian shouted. A minute later, Mumbos new van was pulling up.

"What's going on?" He demanded, now wearing shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. I held up the rifle, and his eyes went wide.

"It was in the chests. See, we have some too." Grian said, motioning to the chests. Mumbo swiftly made walked to one, and broke the lock. Sure enough, it was filled with the same as mine.

"Fill the van. We gotta hide these." He said, and pushed the chest to the van. Grian and I shared a look, and followed him.

.  .  .

We went airborne a few times trying to get to the cave at the base of the southern mountains. Grian had already started digging a hole, and had offered to use it to hide them. I had told them I was going to keep them in my boat, with no argument from them.