The sun beat down on my back and neck as I walked up and down the Arid Hills. I was dehydrated and hadn’t eaten or drank since midday yesterday.

I walked for another mile or so, focusing only on the shifting sound of my boots on the dry, cracked ground. I had come to the conclusion that my only option was to search the area and find something to loot or kill.

Over the next three or four hours I searched the hillside for a bandit outpost or something with food.

I searched for a while longer and my mouth felt drier than the ground I was walking on. I eventually came upon a cave, it’s entrance gaping open and dark like a bottomless pit.

I had no portable source of light with me, so I hesitated at first.

I also tried to swallow but my throat just scraped against itself and my stomach roared within my abdomen as I fought the urge to vomit.

With my mind still resisting my bodily urges for sustenance, I gripped my revolver knowing that my only chance of survival is in that cave.

I took a breath and went in.