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Released December 2nd, 2015.

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The Leather worker Edit Edit

Steve was the ordinary. He spends his mornings with his cat and a big hit invention; the Shickaxe. It was only invented yesterday, February 23rd. The rest of the day was ultimately spent chatting with the villagers, adventuring and crafting items. One morning, he did the usual; waking up with his cat, Frisco, his most beloved pet. He owned a dog named Penny, but the poor dog was lost, and found dead just days later. He stretched, and walked out of his bedroom. He was comfortable with his house; it was huge, much bigger then the village beside it; It wasn't the ordinary Minecraftian's house. It was more than one room. It is a design that is being spread around the world today. He opened his Sleeping Room to the Living Room, and finally the Kitchen. He never had much for breakfast; his favorite was bread, but a Minecraftian favorite was berries with caramel apples. His cat shifted around, until deciding to eat along with Steve. Steve sits at the table and eats, thinking about trying something new. I have been doing the same thing everyday, I need to try something different, Steve thought. He didn't think much of it. After a few quick bites, he got up from his table. He glared out the glass window. His eyes were then set on an Enderman. Steve's biggest nightmare was the Enderman. The myths about them terrified Steve, especially in his younger years. That is why he hated adventuring, and also why he disliked living in the desert. He knew that mobs, especially the Enderman were easy to avoid, but the thought is intimating, and the pain is unbearable; one day, years ago, Steve was almost killed by one. Steve stood where he was. He totally forgot! His villager friend, Charles, asked him if he could buy a horse for him. He couldn't really buy a horse, but the village definitely had a well supply of saddles. Steve opened his door leading outside. He decided to visit the village earlier to trade the saddle with Gordan, the Leather worker. He resigns in the closest house by Steve's. Gordan was also the only Leather worker in all of Copeland, so lines are usually packed. "Hey Gordan!" Steve yelled. Gordan turned to face Steve. "Long time no see my friend!" He exclaimed excitedly. They were decent friends, and it has indeed been ages since they confronted. "What can I do for you today my man?" He said, with his Urmese accent. The Urmau was a country somewhat close to Minecraftia. Steve slammed his hands together, and as he was about to speak, Gordan took over, "Are you in need of more emeralds? You have lots of leather, yeah?" Steve actually doesn't own much leather. But he can see why Gordan would think that, one time a group of trolls failed a prank, which resulted in Steve accumulating stacks upon stacks of Leather. But not long ago he was unexpectedly sued for, "Vandalism." "Well, not exactly Gordan, I need a saddle." Steve corrected. "Oh gotcha man." He said. "So how much for one?" Steve asked. "Well my man, it should cost about 7 emeralds," he replied. "Oh thats a good deal." Steve remarked, pulling some of his emeralds out his backpack. Backpacks in Minecraftia terms are called the Inventory, but Steve still considers them Backpacks, because that is what they are. He handed Gordan the emeralds in exchange for the saddle. "Thank you for doing business my bro." He said. "Oh thank you, take care."

Finally, Steve found a horse lying in the sun. He got on the horse, but it stood up, resulting in Steve falling back. He got back up on the horse, attempting again. The horse repeated the move, but Steve held the horses neck, making his hands sore. He couldn't hold on any longer, and he fell back again. "C'mon, horse!" He complained, getting back on a third time. The horse started the same move again, but steve didn't fall for it. He got out an apple, and the horse went bonkers. Steve smiled. He gave the horse the apple, and hearts popped up, indicating the taming of the horse. Finally steve placed the saddle on the horse. He strapped it and got on. He never rode a horse before, this was going to be fun! He rode the saddle down the desert hills, going up and down, away from the village. He felt lucky; he tamed a fast one. It ran so fast, that it felt like a few minutes before they were already at his friend's house. He slid off his horse, and jogged up to the front step. Steve walked in to his friend Pat's house, which was totally normal and acceptable in the country of Minecraftia. "Hey!" Pat exclaimed. "Your here." Steve smiled. "Yep, depositing the horse, uh, where should I put it?" Steve asked. "Well..." Pat thought. "I constructed a stable over by the side of my house, so you can just ride the horse in there." He informed. He got out his emeralds from his chest, and gave it to Steve. "Thanks Pat." Steve replied, counting the 40 emeralds he asked for. He went back outside, and got on the horse. He rode it into the first stable room he saw. He got off and walked out. Then, in realization, he remembered that he was going have to walk home. He rode the house hundreds of blocks. He could not walk there by himself. He attempted it anyways, and it drove him insane. It was hot out, and without any food, his hunger bar was going down. Steve got so worn, that he had to stop and sit. He was extremely dehydrated and hungry. He sat on the side of the sand hill. Suddenly, his eyes closed. He woke up again, it felt like minutes gone by, but it has been hours. He could tell, because it was pitch black. Zombies moans and skeleton battles woke Steve up. Once they caught eye on Steve, they aggravated on him. "No.. please!" He yelled. Steve tried to dodge every arrow, but he was not paying attention. When he looked up, he saw a big cave; ravine.

He turned around. The mobs were gone. He had outrun them. He was breathing heavily, mostly from being in shock. He never felt so much danger before; even in the most dangerous caves. Once he just calmed down, he looked behind him. A big hiss was heard. Steve went wide-eyed, he whipped around, and it was too late, the creeper exploded on Steve, sending him flying backwards. He landed right before the ravine. He got up. Sand was in his eyes. Disgusting. Then, Steve remembered, he had a pickaxe in his backpack. But he didn't really care. He was out of there. He sprinted the other way, back to where he came from. After minutes, he caught eye of his house. His legs were sore, and he was out of breath. He slid around and jumped into his house, shutting the door. "Phew," he said. He jumped into his bedroom, and threw himself on the bed. The next morning he woke up. He was still hurting from the explosion. He never even ate when he got home that night. He knew his hunger bar must of been full, so he got out of bed and walked out into the kitchen; pulling off the same routine. He looked at the newspaper, which was on his front step, and closed the door. Glancing at it, he noticed something. The annual games was the following week.

Note that in Chapter 3, the story changes from third person to first.

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