The rain that fell burned my skin like acid. The overhanging cliff that sat over 50 yards away was my only hope for survival. I moved based on only my deepest primal instincts and bolted towards it.

The drops did fall sparsely but within only seconds that could develop into a downpour and end my life. The distance between me and my refuge grew ever smaller but it wasn’t happening fast enough, I increased my pace just as the raindrops did the same. Though they were still minimal, where they touched my body, agony bloomed. The burning liquid running down my skin re-opened barely healed wounds and my blood mixed with the water on my body.

I ran under the cover of the overhanging cliff without a moment to lose, immediately as I was safe, the meager drizzle became an all-consuming downpour. I watched with a sick fascination. The rain fell with a pounding patter that should have been a soothing sound but only was a signal of death and suffering to my ears.

Streams of water ran harmlessly off the ruin of a decrepit and forgotten town, the citizens of which were centuries if not millennia dead, killed, unsuspecting, by the first of the Poison Rain in this valley. Most have the common sense not to enter the Poison Valley, though to my advantage and disadvantage, I decidedly, did not.

A sharp pain in my side brought me out of my reverie. I looked down with a curse to see crimson blood flowing freely from a wound, opened from the rain and the movement of my sprint to safety. This was more of an inconvenience than an actual concern because it would heal in time and the acidic rain which caused its reopening would also ensure that an infection did not develop. It was painful but tolerable; the wound itself wasn’t incredibly deep, merely something I had gotten from a fight.

I took off the leather sack that hung on my uninjured side- or at least less so- and pulled from it a length of rough fabric. Slightly pulling up my tunic I wrapped the fabric around my abdomen and tied it off. Crimson quickly stained the fabric but it would serve its purpose.

Throwing the sack back over my shoulder, I straightened up and considered my options. The unpredictability of the Poison Rain was one thing that scared off people, stories could be heard about people trapped under cover from the rain for months while their resources slowly dwindled and they died of hunger and dehydration. There were also stories of deadly seconds of rain that killed dozens who couldn’t shelter themselves quickly enough and then immediately ended. Those were stories passed down for centuries and people no longer visited the Poison Valley because of fear for their lives. I decided not to waste time thinking that there might have been knowledge in the precedent and refocused my thoughts on making a plan. It suddenly occurred to me that testing fate by refraining from properly stocking my bag with food supplies may have not been an intelligent choice either though once again I decided not to waste my time on such a train of thought.

Stolen story; please report.

Recounting the food supplies I did in fact pack- a measly few pieces of salted, smoked meat that was good for long periods of time and a water-skin, almost empty because of sips taken when I had not been aware of the situation I would find myself in- I determine that with rationing as much as possible I can make it for a week at most. Even this was a huge stretch but looking at the pouring rain only a few feet away I know that is my only option for now. There was always the chance that the rain would stop within only minutes but I did not put faith in it, I preferred to stay realistic in situations such as this. I did not fear for my life however. I had been in situations where I most certainly should have been killed but instead survived, through some combination of ingenuity and- let's face it- dumb luck.

Since there was nothing in my power that I could do to change my situation I turned my focus elsewhere to the reason I entered the Poison Valley in the first place. Though I had acquired it only hours ago it had already become a familiar weight against my leg, as if it was always meant to be with me. I pulled it from the torn leather scabbard at my hip. In my hand the knife shined magnificently, not the golden glow described in tales of blades in heroes’ hands but a colder, darker kind of lethal beauty. The hilt was a black medal flecked with silver, forged into elaborate designs and inlaid with white marbled stones. The blade itself looked like starlight, a iridescent white mixed with hints of silver and even black depending on the light. It was absolutely stunning.

This knife was the reason I came to the Poison Valley- not it specifically but treasures left behind in this abandoned place. I had expected to find some fairly valuable objects but my find had far surpassed my expectations. My plan had been to sell my finds to various merchants though, despite this knife’s obvious value, I now choose not to. This didn’t mean that I wouldn’t make any profit from this trip however. Along with this knife I had found the other objects that could be sold for a decent amount, including a number of necklaces and earrings for which I had no use. Those currently rested at the bottom of my leather sack, under my more practical supplies. With a sigh I slid down against the stone wall behind me.

The rain droned on outside of my small sanctuary, I continued to turn the knife around in my hands, examining its splendor. The sun fell low in the sky until I could no longer see it. The orange glow that remained in my field of vision soon followed. In the darkness the falling drops of rain caught bits of moonlight. It was really quite beautiful albeit in a slightly twisted way. I slid my knife back into its sheath and simply looked out into the rain. After what could have been hours or minutes, I closed my eyes, assured in the fact that the deadly downpour which surrounded me would mean that I was utterly alone and therefore safe.