Concrete Walls.

John the Blacksmith.

The family of cod weave though the weeds, escaping the undead mindlessly disturbing the peaceful landscape. I wonder who they used to be. The Drowned Zombies weren't always zombies, right? They were people. And now, people kill them, not even pausing to think that maybe, just maybe, they still haves souls. They just want freedom, like everybody. They had families. They had life's. I dig my toes into the sand, grateful to be out here, instead of struggling down there. I pull myself up, kick on my sandals, and walk away. The biome turns from a sandy oasis to grassy plains, a d eventually to flowering mountains. As I progress up the peak, I hear the sounds of the village in the distance. Sweating, I grip my fingers onto the next boulder, pushing myself to the top, and I get a view of the village. Citizens move throughout the town, dealing goods on the streets. I scan the crowd, searching for the blacksmith's building. There! I spot it, and run over. I step up onto the porch.As I get closer to his little lava pool, sweat drips from my forehead. I enter the store, and see another girl at the table with him, who he is probably bargaining with.I wait patiently, listening to their conversation. “A family heirloom? One rich family you got. Too bad it doesn't have a scabbard. I'll give you three emeralds,” He offers, and the girl nods. She's holding a diamond sword in here hand, and suddenly my iron sword feels worthless. She takes the emeralds and leaves, then John turns to me. “ Back again, Elle? Tommy send ya?” He grins at me, and I smile. “Nah, he ain't the boss of me, y'know? I'm here for a good sword,” I say, eyeing the magnificent weapon he slipped into his weapon belt. “This one, I'm guessing? Four emeralds, and that iron sword of yours will do.” He replies.“I look at him in shock. “Four? You said it was worth three! You don't even need my sword, either. You've got yourself plenty!” John rolls his eyes. “Need a way to make a profit, don't I? Everybody needs a way to make money.” I reluctantly agree to his deal. I take my emeralds out of my leather pouch, and place them on the table. I unclip my scabbard from my belt, and put it with the lot. “Here you go, I got a scabbard for it as well,” He turns and rummaged in his chest, and then pulls out a scabbard. “Got this a couple years back, that girl probably dropped it, she's the only person in this town except for me who has diamond tools,” He grins. “You sick bastard, that was her property, you should've given it back,” He hands me the scabbard, and the sword slips inside perfectly. I clip it on, and leave the building. He doesn't deserve my thanks. The girl is nowhere to be seen. Too bad, I wanted to give her the scabbard back. I turn away, head out of the town, and begin the climb back down the mountain.

520 words.