Steven's boat had not survived the landing, so he had nothing. (note: he prefered the name steve, so let's call him that) he went on into the forest . he went straight to collecting wood, like his father had taught him. he continued this for a while, then noticed he could make an axe. he did so and continued chopping the trees. he went through 5 axes like this. he hadn't noticed that it was getting to be night. so did he find shelter? no. he always dreamed of fighting monsters. the day was finally here. he built 2 swords. the first zombie came. steve, being inexperienced, nearly died in the scuffle that followed, but fought valiantly. soon more monsters came. he took down every one. then, the moment of truth came. he heard a soft hiss, and knew he might not make it. he stared his worse nightmare right in the face. he slashed as if he was a seasoned warrior. the final blow seemed to go in slow motion for steve, as the creeper fell over before him. he had done it. he then noticed that the final blow was from his fist... he felt pride unlike any other. he felt as though he avenged his father.. almost...