Exit kitchen

You grab six hard biscuit wafers and wrap them in a cloth. These will make up the bulk of your meals beyond the settlement. You hope that a few pigeons or an especially rotund rat will supplement the flavorless tack. If you do not succeed in hunting, these biscuits will probably only last you a couple of days. Returning home empty handed after only a day would be an embarrassment that must be avoided at all costs.

 

The thought of burning pigeon meat recalls to your mind the necessity of a cook fire. You stuff a flint & steel into a pocket in your cloak. Fuel is easy to comeby in the concrete wasteland when apartments filled with old furniture and drapings are at hand. Fire, however, is less common. How did humans make it before the advent of flint and steel? Rubbing sticks together? The human race is an enigma. There are some who possess the ability to conjure fire, but you certainly do not have access to such magical talent. Yours is much less useful.

 

Leaving the kitchen, you come to a pitch black stairwell. This shaft was built precariously without windows. That oversight is for the best, you think, as winters would be unbearable if the entire structure were drafty. Getting down the stairs without a candle is tricky business, though. Thankfully, you were born with a talent for navigating the dark.