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I believe my captor was a head case. How could he not be? I'm just a little snowman with a Jack-O-Lantern hiding my face. I was scouring the Middle End Mountains for berries when I saw some hunched up madman, muttering to himself and throwing gold coins into a lava pit.

I shook my head in confusion and turned away, but I was shot in the back of the head by the madman. He roughly turned me over and I saw his face. Now that I could see him more clearly, I noticed the blue jacket he wore and the maniac-like smile on his face. The arrow he fired at me passed through my snowy body without hurting me too much. But I was irritated and began picking up snow and forming it into snowballs to throw at Weird-Smiley-Face.

Suddenly he cried "Hey, hold up bitch!" and threw me a nautilus shell, which isn't just a petty souvenir but also is a sign of peace. I frowned, and bent to pick up the shell. As I stared at it, I didn't notice the guy throw a slowness potion at me. Then he took an iron shovel and hit me on the head. I lost consciousness.

Iwoke up incide an cage if ice. As I scanned my surroundings, I notice that the ice was covered in obsidian, and through the door I could see lava pooling ovcr the sides. I was stuck in a prison! I hate prisons! I hate lava and fire and anything to do with the Nether! Did you know that snow golems are even more affected by fire than regular humans?

Totally unfair! But I must say, my new home in prison was very comfortable. I had a bed and some chests and a cauldron full of dye in it, and I found a tunic and some cake in the chest.

There were no windows, and the only exit was an iron door with lava behind it, so... no escape. Bored, I took out my tunic and dyed it white and put it on, then perused the walls for anything of interest. My eyes caught on a small unadorned photo of three young men, arms linked and laughing at the camera. One had a bandana, the other a colorful sweater. The middle one was my captor. The shadows of a tree covered their faces and highlighted their smiles.

As I stared at the picture in silence, someone entered my prison. "Ah, finally awake." It was the Head Case man! I frowned, obviously gearing myself up for the inevitable.

I frowned. "Would you care to explain why you kidnapped me, knocked me out, and trapped me in this... THIS PRISON!?"

Head Case sighed. "I'm Quackity. If you call me names, I'll show you how many curses I can spew from my mouth in one minute."

"Alright, Quackity," I glared. "What do you want with me?" He smiled that crazy smile and said:

"I've been watching you and your bunch of snowpeople farming. You guys know how to farm every fucking thing from wheat to radishes to melons to honey. I have a friend named George who demands compensation from me for letting my friend Tommy burn up his house."

"He would like me to find someone who can help him farm and prepare food for all of our hungry soldiers, and especially for the military leader Technoblade, who slaughtered a third of the invading army himself. George fears he will not be able to harvest enough crops, so he sent me to find someone with an increased amount of knowledge on farming techniques. If I had asked you nicely, you probably would never have come with me."

I silently nodded, understanding that lives were at stake here. If I refused to come with him and killed myself in the lava, I would be wasting plently of lives besides my own life. If I commited myself... well, there was the chance that I would never see my family and my friends again but, if it meant that I could help in the war, I was prepared to do my job at all costs. "Alright", I said, "I'm in."

Several minutes later, after Quackity finished briefing me on my job, I was riding my saddled horse alongside his as we traveled toward the town Manburg, where his other friends lived. As I got off my horse and unsaddled it, I wondered. Would I be accepted here? Would everyone realize I wasn't a mortal like them but a white snowgirl wearing an iron chestplate with a Jack-O-Lantern for a head? I wasn't even completely normal! I took twice as much fire damage and survived better in cold, icy, desered biomes where the only animals brave enough to survive there were polar bears and snowshoe rabbits and wolves and who knows what animals, and mortals could CERTAINLY not survive there.

Quackity and I pulled over at the sight of a young mortal man with dark tousled hair waving furiously at us, enormous framed glasses teetering dangerously on his forelock. I smiled as I sighted his hand behind his back clasping a Jack-O-Lantern head and thought "If this is the person I'm working with, at least he is actually sane."

"How many carrots are we supposed to harvest?" I asked George.

"Perhaps several stacks", he replied.

"Okay," I said.

We were working in the fields side by side armed with hoes, shovels, and axes. I was pretty upset to find out that I had been given wooden tools and not iron tools or netherite tools and had voiced my concerns to Quackity, who brushed me off with a mere "If something is fucking wrong with 'em, craft another yourself."

George was kinder, saying that since the armies requiered more profitting weapons, us lowly farmers had to stick with the old wood and stone tools. I sighed and resumed working, and by the time the sun had set, both of us had cleared away some of the enormous field stretching out for plently of blocks as far as the eye could see. There were radishes, potatoes, carrots, wheat, pumpkins, and melons. Tomorrow we would go after the cows for milk and butcher some pigs for meat. I smiled, knowing that this was what I had always wanted: To be able to supply and help people while doing what I loved the most... farming the soil.

As I trudged off toward my quarters, I noticed a green-robed man with golden hair. His face was hiden by a simple white mask, a childish smile painted on front with charcoal. He was clad in enchanted netherite armor and stood by his horse. He was brandishing a crossbow in one hand and an axe in the other. I froze in my footsteps, and I could hear my heart pounding.

Surely I was mistaken- Of course- No way- It was the legendary dragon slayer Dream the Avenger!

I frowned. I could never understand though, why he didn't assume the crown when it was so rightfully his in many ways. He was just like Technoblade, who preferred to serve as leader of his own clan of soldiers rather than assume control of all the soldiers.

I shook myself out of my stupor and ascended the steps to the stilt house. It was beautiful, built out of spruce wood and surrounded completely by lava on all four sides. I had grown quite attached to the stilt house in the short time that I had lived here. Just enough room for my pale grey bed, a chest, a furnace, and a crafting table. It was quite cozy, the only room lit by a solitary lantern. This was my new home.