You want another story?

Ah, fine, but listen well, for I'll only tell it once.

It was with tentative steps that I left my hovel in the ground after cowering there for my first night. My encounter with the creeper seemed more of a dream than a reality, but I was anxious that such an event not happen again. I left that bloodstained place far, far behind, and set out once again to find my calling. I knew then that my previous views of grandiose buildings were overly ambitious, and so I left my shattered dreams with the scant remnants of my inventory in the bottom of the ravine where I had so recently met my demise.

Now wiser for my struggles, I was more vigilant in my observance of the world. It served me well, and saved my skin more times than I can count. I pressed onwards, learning and changing, the wild lands wrathful but beautiful, savage but breathtaking. Though I stuck to a policy of non-aggression when it came to mobs, sometimes I found myself with no choice but to fight. As a result, I became quite adept at using the bow, and nearly as good with a sword. However, as I was constantly on the move, my crafting resources were limited. Otherwise tired of my nomadic lifestyle, this was the final straw in my decision to settle down a bit.

Over the next few weeks, a home began to take shape. It wasn't beautiful, and the effects of several accidental fires was obvious on the wood, but I was proud of my dwelling none the less. I had constructed a few tunnels and a singular deep mineshaft that had yielded two diamonds. I guarded the gems jealousy, keeping them with me at all times. When my iron sword gave out, I planned to craft a new one of this glistening stone. However, my natural tendencies for avoidance gave unusually long life to the lesser metal sword, and so I found myself dedicating most of my time to improving my humble abode.

I was performing a simple roof repair when I first felt it. Hunger. Not a gentle tickling that merely suggested that I eat soon. No, this was much worse, a tide of nauseating, burning pain. There was no choice, I had to eat now before my starvation could sap me of all of my strength. I stumbled indoors and looked for food, finding only a single cooked porkchop. I devoured it with the hunger of a monster. Only somewhat sated, I knew that I had to go and gather more food.

I set out with my long-lived sword and my bow. An hour of walking produced only a single chicken, which scuttled off into the underbrush, safe from the reach of my bow. I knew not why the wildlife was so scarce at the time, but in hindsight it was probably my indiscriminate slaughter of any and all living things near my house. I returned home, my stomach churning. the porkchop hadn't lasted long. I had no clue what I would do, and it was in helpless anger that I swung my iron sword, decapitating several tall stalks of grass. The seed-heads fell to my feet, and I knew what I would do.

I gathered the seeds carefully, and went about setting up a farm. Soon, I had done everything but the actual furrowing of the ground, for I had no hoe. My stomach was complaining loudly by this time, each sound accompanied with a sharp pang. Through my hunger-induced dizziness, I knew the last step that needed to be done. I headed inside to craft a hoe.

I wish that I could blame my hungry delirium for what followed, but really it was just a mistake.

Leaning heavily on my table, my hands worked on autopilot, throwing together sticks and other materials to craft what I needed. Only when I hefted my new tool did I realize the grievous error I had committed. My starvation-addled mind had completely ignored the stone and iron that was abundantly available. Instead, my two diamonds meant for a sword had gone into the less impressive blade of a hoe.

At least I didn't really have to worry about ever crafting another hoe again.