Sometimes you dig a hole in the wrong place and the zombies pour in from above your head.
It’s raining, which means it’s dark out, which means the monsters are in full force outside.
I chased a vein of iron ore up to the surface, where I found six zombies, one skeleton, a pony spider, and a giraffe corgi waiting for me. Had I been lucky, the giraffe corgi would’ve blown up the others, but I was not. Everyone (except me) was eventually killed but I fear my iron sword may be beyond saving.
It’s a good thing I found all that iron so I could ruin my sword and need it.
I need a drink. I wonder how hard it is to distill my own alcohol without poisoning myself.