I am now going to hunt for cheese.
I know that there are going to be many deaths
I assumed that I would die soon, if it were in a pit, in the air, or from one of the ones who believed me, now named trollers.
We meet the anvil god.
He strikes several of us to death. One of my friends was barely hit (the one who suggested I write this), and yet she bleeds to death from her injured neck.
I become saddened. I am the only survivor.
I make it to the cheese;
I run back and enter, crying.
I stay there for a long time.
They give the places numbers.
I purchase a book that includes the places with their numbers.
I eventually go out to hunt for more cheese.
I recognize the map and go towards the fake cheese.
I wait by it; I am trapped, suddenly.
I close my eyes, lie down, and await my eventual death.