"Eeuugghhh"
Cliff shot up in bed, eyelids blinking in rapid motion in order to adjust his eyes to the surrounding darkness. He scanned the room searching for intruders, anxiety on edge knowing that the presence of any would spell his death. He discovered that everything was in order; the birch wood door remained in its closed position; the cobblestone walls still retained their former integrity. He grumbled to himself as he slowly laid back down, and then nearly had a heart attack as his gaze fell upon the zombie staring at him through the window. He stumbled out of bed and prepared to run, but when he realized he was in no apparent danger he let out his pent-up breath in the form of a long sigh. He noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, and whirled around to find he had woken his roommate Bryce, apprentice to the local priest and all-around bookworm. He looked at Cliff through bleary, but concerned, eyes.
"You all right? Sounded like something spawned in here", he said to the effect of "Why did you wake me up?", but still carried a note of apprehension at the thought of a hostile mob being present.
"I thought it was something along those lines too, but it was just a zombie jump-scaring me through the window", Cliff reassured him, trying his best to add a light-hearted chuckle to lighten the mood. Bryce peered past Cliff and looked at the two-block wide window at the far side of the room.
A confused look came across Bryce`s face. "What zombie?" Cliff turned around and almost jumped when greeted by the bulky form of Christopher, the local village Iron Golem. He was gazing off into the distance with his blank stare shared by all Iron Golems, the evidence that the offending zombie had been present was a single piece of rotten flesh eerily floating over the ground. Cliff looked around to find Bryce stifling a laugh. Cliff managed one stern look before bursting into laughter, Bryce soon following suit.
"Real smooth, B., real smooth", Cliff commended after the laughing spell had subsided.
"Nah, your just easy", Bryce said through a smirk.
Cliff gave out a snort," You just keep telling yourself that. I`m gonna get you back big time."
"You said that last time. And the time before that. And before that".
Cliff set his face in the most hard-nosed expression possible, "Well, this will be the time that I ge…"
"…And the time before that", Bryce concluded with a renewed grin. Cliff gave a small sigh of defeat. He was inept at anything along the lines of quick-thinking, whether it be dealing with a pig he angered while shooing it away from the garden or coming up with comebacks to Bryce`s quips.
Cliff decided that it was time to end the conversation. "Okay, I`m going to bed now, so save any further abuse for the morning."
"Just be glad I`m still tired," Bryce said while heading toward his room. Cliff laid on top of the crimson-red covers and looked back out the window. Christopher was gone, probably to dispatch another zombie that came stumbling into the area. Cliff stared at the ceiling and gave a thought of appreciation to the giant. Christopher helped keep the town safe at night. No, rather, he kept the town safe at night. None of the townspeople were ever brave enough to help him.
They were villagers, after all.
Cliff began the next morning with the usual routine. He fumbled out of bed, Changed into his normal brown robe, and then went and prepared himself breakfast. Bryce was already gone; He liked to get up early to finish the chores he did around the watchtower so he could begin his lessons earlier in the day. Cliff did otherwise, staying inside for most of the morning so that any mobs that Christopher missed would have burnt to a crisp by the time he stepped outside. He prepared himself some rabbit stew and ate it slowly, savoring the flavor of the meat. Once he was finished, he put the bowl back in the chest on the back wall, grabbed his hoe, and set off to work. He walked outside to be greeted by a clear blue sky, the familiar square sun, and the annoying stench of burnt rotten flesh. He shut his door behind him and began the trek to the far side of the village. Along the way he was, as usual, greeted by most of the village inhabitants. First of all was Mikel, the village blacksmith. He already had both of his furnaces ablaze, probably smelting some second-rate armor in order to collect some ingots of whatever material to make some ingots to trade.
He pulled some ingots out of his bottom furnace when he saw Cliff walk by, "Hey, Clifford! Going to check on your carrots?" He shouted while somehow managing to maintain a straight face. Cliff turned around and glared for a moment at his fellow villager. Like all Testificates, Cliff received his name at random and the name given to him left something to be desired. He had decided to shorten it to Cliff, much less affable and more unique. Mikel, however, had decided to make sport of his full name and Cliff, ever the slow thinker, never sees it coming.
However, Cliff knew that Mikel meant no harm by it, so Cliff always decided not to make a big deal. "Your never gonna get tired of that, are you?" Mikel let out a hearty chuckle as he shook his head in confirmation. Cliff smiled and bid his fellow villager farewell and continued his walk through town. His next encounter was with Stacy, the best cook in town. Cliff and Stacy often traded with each other, making this stop along his way very convenient.
"Hey, Stacy," Cliff called out while passing by, "What are you in the market for today? I`ve got several crops that should be harvestable today."
"Hi Cliff!" Stacy gave Cliff a wave of acknowledgement and then creased her eyebrow thoughtfully. "Well, I could use some wheat for some more cookies, so if you have any wheat, come by and see me later."
"Will do, Stacy", Cliff replied as he walked on. He smiled to himself. Cookies were his favorite treat and he could probably guess what he would get in return for the promised wheat. He continued on and rounded the next corner to be greeted by Hamilton, one of the three village librarians. He was walking in a hurried pace, apparently looking for someone. At the sight of Cliff, he stopped suddenly and opened his mouth to speak, but Cliff cut him off.
"Let me guess, you want some sugarcane to make some paper." Cliff didn`t have any problem remembering his interactions with Hamilton; sugarcane was the only thing he ever traded with Cliff for.
"Well," Hamilton began, wanting to get this over as soon as possible, "What do you need at the moment? I`ve got some books that Bryce might be interested in…"
Cliff gave a small sigh, "Sorry pal, all I`m in the market for right now are emeralds." A familiar feeling of dread fell over the young librarian. He, like many other villagers, had emerald fever, a condition that makes them drawn and very obsessive over the jewels. It couldn`t be helped, and it tended to make trading uncomfortable on occasions. This time, though, Hamilton only hesitated for a second or two before reaching into the folds of his white robe and revealing a small cluster of emeralds.
"What, is there some kind of emergency?" Cliff asked while retrieving a bundle of sugarcane. Due to his emerald fever, Hamilton was usually reluctant to trade his emeralds for other resources.
"I was just finishing up arranging some books at Quill`s place," Hamilton explained, "when Virgil came in chasing another one of those pigs. The pig knocked down several books off the bookshelf and then hightailed out of there. I need to replace those books before Quill comes back, or I`m toast." Cliff nodded in understanding. Virgil was a hand-for-hire, as he called himself, and recently he had been rounding up pigs for Gary, the village butcher. Virgil was a bit of a klutz, and usually caused accidents whenever he worked on anything, pig-chasing no exception. And Quill, the village`s head librarian, was notorious for his temper flares and always took it out on whoever was nearest to him, regardless of who`s fault it was. Hamilton and Cliff made their exchange and went their separate ways.
After a few more minutes of walking and greeting neighbors Cliff finally reached his garden. He was the village farmer, a profession he enjoyed more than anything. Besides eating cookies, of course. The garden was parked right next to Virgil`s house, a cause for annoyance at times. Cliff can`t even begin to count how many times Virgil had trampled his crops for who knows what. However, Virgil had been doing his best to keep the crops intact, and he was really useful for keeping pigs and other critters from eating the merchandise. Cliff started to walk toward the garden when he stopped and peeked over at the overhang created by Virgil`s roof. Mob`s sometimes remained under there during the day to keep from burning up, and once Cliff walked in on a trapped skeleton… that had hurt. A lot. However, inspection proved that no mobs had taken advantage of the shade, so he continued to begin his normal, everyday work. It was nothing more than a standard garden, a wood rectangle filled with rows of water and dirt. The dirt was hoed and planted in with whatever seeds that Cliff had on hand. The past season had been a good one for Cliff, leaving him with a large supply of leftover seeds. He checked on all the crops that had yet to finish growing. The radishes he had planted yesterday were making slight progress, and the carrots from a few days ago were almost ready, but not quite. He gave a nod of satisfaction and went to check on the crops that should be ready today. And found none. He stood stock-still for a moment, and then began frantically looking around. He didn`t understand it. There had been a bunch of wheat, beetroot, and potatoes here when he left yesterday and there had never been a mob hungry enough to eat all that. He had a feeling that Virgil knew something about this. He stormed off the find the fool when he stopped in his tracks. There was something just past the next couple houses. It looked like a villager, but instead of a robe he wore a pair of blue jeans and a cyan shirt. His head was just a little shorter than a villager`s, and his nose was practically non-existent. Cliff squinted as he tried to figure out who this stranger was when he figured it out, and couldn`t believe it.
It was a player.