Peter rushes through the bunker door on the west side. He looks around frantically, spotting a few familiar faces. But not the one he's looking for.

“Adam! Where's Adam!” He calls, looking from frightened face to frightened face.

“I d-don't know!” Anna cries, gripping her bag. “He said he'd be here in a half hour! He said not to send anyone in!”

Peter curses, pulling a sword from his belt. “That piece of fermented mistletoe! He's going in by himself!”

Several elves gasp, and a few cover their mouths. They all know the numbers. 23 skeletons, and 3 on spiderback. 20 zombies, and 5 with extensive armour. It's almost like they organized this attack. Adam can't take all of that by himself!

Jackson looks worried, and starts to chew his nails. His eyes widen.

“Dale! Veronica! Jackson! Kaylee!” Peter calls, watching as the elves step forward. “I need you all to get weapons and prepare to assist!”

They scramble off, but two of them bump into something big, white, red, and fluffy.

“What's ho ho happening here!?” The white blob, Santa, questions with a stern glare.

“Sir!” Peter exclaims. “Adam's gone to attack the forces on the east side, by himself!”

“He has, has he? Well, we do have an armory. Am I accurate to assume that you are gathering an assistance?” Santa asks.

“Yes sir, Santa Claus.” Kaylee confirms.

“Be careful! I know you've gathered authority Peter, but you are no general.” Santa advises.

A door pushes open, revealing Dale, equipped and ready to go. “Yes sir, but I am!” He cries. “Peter asked me to go too!”

Santa smirks. “Alright then, be careful.”

Peter smiles, drawing a bow and arrows from chest by the wall. “Will do Santa!” He confirms.

Kaylee stands by Peter, equipped with a long iron mace. Dale is at her side, holding a diamond sword and an iron shield. Next to him is Veronica, who holds a long sword that looks like a fencing sword. She holds a small dagger in her other hand. At her side is Jackson, equipped with several potions and a bow with arrows.

All are wearing iron armour, and all are prepared to battle. Dale takes the lead, allowing Peter to suggest commands here and there. The squad of small elves leave the bunker, and head out into the snow.

“Alright team.” Dale says seriously. “We want the archers, Jackson and Peter, to stick to the roofs!”

Peter and Jackson nod, and fist bump before heading to the nearby buildings. Most of them are workshops, but each one is equipped with a ladder around the back.

“Our ground fighters, Veronica and Kaylee, you stick with me!”

The girls nod, and the three rush off to the North Pole’s border. A small force field is around it, something that elves may never cross. Not until their 100 years are up, at least.

No, they stick near it, but not close enough to risk being pushed through. Once an elf falls through, they are transformed into a human again. Humans can pass into the North Pole without issues, but elves cannot leave.

Veronica adjusts her grip on her sword, and sticks with Kaylee and Dale. The three face the shimmering purple border, the only visible enchanting done in the poles. Enchanting is seen as dark magic to the elves, and so there isn't a single enchantment table in the entirety of the north pole.

Any signs of enchanting, or the purple and pink shimmer on an object, are harshly punished. Of course, none have been seen since enchantment tables were banned from the premises. Not even Herobrine’s sword was enchanted in the North Pole. He got it from elsewhere.

Peter faces said border, and looks at his own hands. His bow is across his back, and he faces the roof that Jackson sits on, opposite him.

He stares at the forest beyond the border. He can see the occasional flicker of something white, like a skeleton, but none actually enter the border.

Then he hears mumbles groans and clicks. They don't sound like they're from a monster, which disturbed Peter greatly.

He glances at Jackson. He mouths, “A human?” and waits for Jackson's reply.

“I guess?” Jackson mouths, shrugging.

Peter ponders this. Humans can't speak with monsters, and monsters can't communicate period. They don't have a complex society like humans do. No kings, or presidents, or leaders. Just individuals with an instinct to take blood.

He listens closer to the human sounds. They sound familiar, but Peter can't put his finger on who it may be.

And then it hits him.

“Adam! It's Adam! Look!” Peter mouths, catching Jackson's attention. He points.

Right beyond where the three ground fighters are standing, is another small group. Behind a clove of short trees stands Adam, in all of his stubby and short elf glory.

But, he's making the noises. In front of him is an armoured zombie, and next to that is a mounted skeleton, on spiderback. “Is he insane!?’ Peter thinks, wide eyed.

Adam is talking to mobs. How is that possible!?

~~~

Adam stomps through the snowy square, now empty of people. His hand is on his dagger, but he ditched his golden boots in the middle of the square. They were getting too heavy, considering he is trying to stomp through inches of snow.

He keeps his golden helmet, as it has sentimental value. A friend gave it to him, back when he wasn't an elf yet. A very… unique friend. Expert in light magics, and creator of light enchanting. Of course, not many know how to do this, so enchanting is still widely regarded as dark magic.

Adam smiles at the memories. This friend gifted him this helmet, knowing he likes the gold ore that he calls “budder”. They even lived together for a while, along with some other friends.

But, all but a few of those friends have long since died. Several of them are not human, so there are a few exceptions. Those who are alive think Adam is dead, though. That’s one of the rules to being an elf.

You have to leave everything behind.

Adam sighs, and trudges through the edge of the square. The border is in sight, and so are the skeletons and their mounts. Three are in the lead, on spiderback, just passing through the border. Most of their forces are still on the other side of the enchanted wall.

“Hey!” Adam calls.

They don't stop.

“Oh, right. I gotta speak their language.” Adam groans, rubbing his temples.

He makes a guttural groan with his throat and stomach, and then repeats the message in clicks and clunks with his tongue and teeth. The message says, “Hey! Stop!”.

The mounted skeleton, which is also in armour, seems to be leading. It, or she, stops her advance, and approaches Adam. Following her is a male zombie, who is also armoured.

The skeleton and the zombie follow Adam behind a short trove of trees, and glare at him. “Who are you?” The zombie asks, in his groaning language.

“Someone you should listen to.” Adam replies bluntly. He tips his sunglasses up ever so slightly.

The skeleton clicks in alarm, and her eyes widen. The zombie takes a few steps back.

Adam flips his sunglasses back into place, grinning. He leans against the nearby tree, ready for business. “Alright then.” He says, in both languages.

“Don't attack here again. Ever. I defeated Herobrine, and I will defeat you. Got it?” Adam says sternly, watching the mob leaders shiver. “Relay this to the Skeleton queen, and the Zombie king.”

They nod, and start to turn around. “Oh.” Adam starts. “And the spider queen, as well as the creeper president, while you're at it.”

The two mobs nod quickly in fright, running off into their ranks.

The mobs disappear into the trees, taking Adam's message with them. Being one of the only Minecraftians, let alone eleves, that can talk to mobs, gives him an advantage when dealing with an attacker.

Attacks don’t come around often, but now that Adam is alone, he had a chance to stop them for good. Of course, if the mobs find out that his hundred years are about to be up, they could get some funny ideas.

Adam turns toward a second trove of trees, along the border, and decides to go for a walk. His thirty minutes aren't up yet, and as far as he knows, everyone thinks he is at his house, in his quarter.

He sighs, and traces a hand along the border. He could never cross it, even if it wouldn't do as much to him as it would to other elves. All it would do is bring out his human form again.

His foot bumps into something squishy.

A zombie head rolled in his path.

“The hell?” He frowns, not using elf curses for once. He rolls it around, and kicks it back into the trees.

“The hell!?” A louder voice cries.

“What?” Another voice questions the first.

Adam freezes in place, trying to discern how far away the voices are. He assumes they are close. He doesn't dare move, and risk making noise.

“Dood, this head I kicked rolled back!”

“Maybe you hit something?”

“No, I know I didn't! I heard it slow down!” The first voice cries.

“Hold on, let's just go check it out.” The other voice says.

Adam starts to look around frantically. Where's he going to go? What's he going to do? His brain is working at a mile a minute, and he doesn't know what to do here. He's running out of time to--

Too late.

“Woah, who goes there?” The first voice says, from behind Adam. Adam freezes, stiffening up. “And what's with the get up?”

Adam turns around slowly. “MOTHER OF FROSTY!”

========================
I abandoned the manual italics this time, ugh!

Anyway, thoughts? You like? Mwhahaha!

Chapter 4 isn't quite ready yet, but it will be soon. After that, the action and the end of this book will start. I guess you could say that the snow ball will start rolling.

Snickers out!