The Miner King
Once, long ago, there was a Minecrafter who did nothing but mine. Sure, he had a wheat farm and he sometimes went to trade with villagers, but all he did was mine and mine. He was doing as his father had done, as his father had done and as his mother had done.
One day, the kingdom the miner lived in went to war with another. The King sent out groups of recruiters, to make his army stronger. And one of the people they recruited was the miner, who wanted a change. As part of the army, he fought in many battles and rose fast through the ranks. Soon he was a general, and dined at the table of the king himself. The King had no son, and he saw what a brave and cunning leader the miner was, so he named him his successor. Then, in the final battle of the war, the King was killed and the miner was named king.
The miner ruled fairly and justly, making the kingdom a better place for all. He took away the titles from the corrupt nobles, and then gave them to those who disserved them. He organised support to the poor during famine, and personally hunted down groups of creepers. He took a beautiful wife, and had a handsome son. Yet, he was… bored?
Everything he wanted was given to him, and any monsters that came into sight of his castle were dead before he heard about them. He had no proper challenges, and felt himself grow weak. He longed for the mines, where challenge was behind the wall, and diamonds were raw. Where Creepers and Zombies crept up behind you and you alone had to fight them off.
So one night, he took off his fine clothes, his jewels, and his crown, took one last look at his wife and child then crept away, taking nothing but his old pickaxe, which he had carried with him all this time. He went back to the tunnels, the mines, found gold and diamonds, fought creepers, and lived as he had wished. And no one has heard of him since.