...Thinking of nothing but the beautiful red-headed ranch hand, you work yourself into a frenzy of desperation.

If I can only run and find some clothes, then maybe I'll have a chance!

Without even knowing whether or not your legs will work correctly, you make a mad dash toward the dark tunnel, straight in the direction of your unseen jailkeeper. You have faced unseen terrors before, so why be worried about this one? It's best to just put your head down and charge the problem.

Right away, running is difficult and the jagged rocks of the cavern floor lacerate your poor bare feet nearly to the bone. But you don't forget your training. You keep running through the pain.

But the Troll smelled you coming. Had you known that it was a Troll you would have known better than to allow the smell of Human blood to invade the air. In a dead sprint you run straight into the huge, stinky pile of flesh. A single stroke of the Troll's gnarled club is all it takes to crush your skull and turn your world red.

You're dead.