Chapter 2 - A New World

From Story Part*This article is an article of a chapter in the part Part 1 - Understanding the World of "Minecraft" (and thus has been automatically put in the Part 1 - Understanding the World of "Minecraft" category).*

**Part 1 - Understanding the World of "Minecraft"**
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***Chapter 2 - A New World***

## GoodReads Chapter

https://www.goodreads.com/story/show/1327145-a-minecraft-struggle?chapter=2

## Podcast

**S1 E2**

*The part number above is this episode's season number. The chapter number above is this episode's episode number.*

Read: https://qrco.de/bc01jl

Raw: https://vocaroo.com/1e7FZrdnaHVN

Quiz: https://forms.gle/FrUVUrAXjWk6Gg8a9

*Read along!*

## Content

I explored the area, looking for anything. Eventually, I saw a tree - it was an ordinary tree, brown trunk, and green leaves - there were also a few animals. The cow said, “Moo!” the sheep said, “Baa!” and the pig said, “Oink!”

I punched the tree with my right hand. I kept punching while the cracks grew ‘till the block shrunk to ‘bout a fifth of its normal size, and into my belt (which is called an inventory). I walked toward the dropped block, and it hovered into my right hand. “How do I craft?” I asked no one, only getting a cheerful “Moo,” from the cow. I looked at the sky. It was already noon. I needed to build a shelter, but I needed a crafting table. I was holding the oak log at the top of my right hand. I looked all around my right hand. Looking at the front of my right hand, I saw four squares, an arrow, and another square with “Crafting,” stained on top of it. This was how I could craft!

I placed the oak log in the upper-left square at the front, with the top facing down. I couldn‘t find a way to take the crafted item, so I turned my hand back to its normal position, and the crafted item teleported onto my hand. I placed the oak planks in a row to start building the walls of my shelter. I kept chopping trees, crafting oak planks, and placing ‘em as my walls ‘till I had a full wall layout. Then, I added three more layers. I placed one block on top of the fourth layer and built the roof. Finally, I broke that starting block on the fourth layer.

I punched out a two-block-high gap for the door. I collected more oak logs, just in case I needed ‘em. Then, I crafted a crafting table and placed it inside of my shelter. I continued to craft the door and place it.

It was getting dark outside. I didn‘t have any lighting - other than the door - in the shelter. I needed torches so the hostile mobs wouldn‘t spawn inside of my shelter. I could make ‘em with some sticks and some charcoal. I needed a furnace to burn some of the oak logs into charcoal. I crafted some sticks and used the planks with ‘em to craft a wooden pickaxe. I dug a staircase - only without stairs - and mined some stone. I ran back up and crafted a bunch of torches. I placed ‘em all around my house, and in my new mine. A zombie banged on my door so loudly that I could hear it everywhere.

On guard, I drew my pickaxe, almost petrified. The banging only got louder. I wanted to gather s‘more cobblestone to block the door, but I also didn‘t wanna become vulnerable. I jumped down into my mine to collect a few cobblestones - I didn‘t wanna break my floor - staying wary of the zombie. After I got enough blocks to cover up the door for a kill, it was already too late. I was face-to-face with the zombie, with only a pickaxe. I hit the zombie, but it punched me back right in the chest. I wasn‘t dazed ‘cuz I was ready for the zombie attack. After hitting it four more times, it finally fell from all the hits (it was easy to dodge ‘cuz it was slow).

Only one zombie left a dent so I needed more gear. I still had enough sticks leftover from the torches to make another tool. I could craft a stone pickaxe and collect iron, or I could craft a stone sword for my next encounter. I settled on the sword, knowing that every good warrior carries some sorta weapon at all costs. I didn‘t have enough wood to make a new door. The night wasn‘t gonna pass by awhile ‘till I made a bed. “*Crack!*” That sound was familiar - this was a skeleton!

I pulled out my new sword. The skeleton crackled its way into my shelter, firing arrows my way. I attempted to dodge all of ‘em, but I couldn‘t do it forever. The skeleton shot me right in my stomach. I charged at the skeleton with my stone sword. I jumped, spinning around my sword. I hit it again, then it shot me, after which I killed it. Dazed with fractured ribs, I staggered back ‘till I hit the wall, eyeing the no-longer-existing-door, keeping my sword drawn.

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