So there I was, surrounded by mobs, standing next to a talking fox, when I heard a zombie die. There were two people and a wolf fighting the zombies.

The zombies tried to fight back, but either got shot by an arrow, stabbed, or gotten their leg bitten by a wolf.

It was pretty epic, not gonna lie. When the last zombie fell dead, the warriors looked at us. They studied us for a long time, then spoke. "You're welcome."

Their dog barked. "Yes, Bruce." One of them said. "We did just save their butts." "You talk to your dog?" I asked. "Who doesn't?" He answered. "I'm Ivan and that's Shawn." Shawn waved. "He doesn't speak. He only uses sign language."

"I'm Frosty, and this is Steve." Frosty said. "The most unusual thing just happened to us in the nether." "Did you get attacked by a three headed creeper?" Asked Ivan. "Yes." I answered. "How did you know?" "It happened to us, too." He said.

"There's a village nearby." He said. "We can get food there. You two must be famished." "You just read my mind." Said Frosty. "Mine too." I said.

When we got to the village, It was pure chaos. People were chasing each other. People were fighting each other. And people were greifing each other. A man pulled me aside. "Hey, noob!" He said. "Fight me!" "Well, okay." I said. I didn't know if this guy wanted to fight to the death or anything, which I did not want to do.