There was a burning sensation all around my body and a weightlessness that was ever present. My eyes fluttered wildly as the rest of me came to life, shifting a grain-like substance around me. Sputtering awake from some kind of nap I was taking, I was greeted with an intense light and an intense parchedness. I could not hold back a dry cough, an action that let me clear up my throat and made me realize just how much I needed water to solve my crisis. Not an unusual situation for me, mind you, I would often forget to hydrate every now and again, but this was ridiculous compared to all those other times.

After blinking more than a few times after my cough, I couldn't help but move a hand up to block out some kind of light above me. With my eyes freed from that oppressive light, it was revealed that I was within… A desert. A full-on Saharan-esque desert. I could not even begin to hold back my thoughts as I vocalized audibly out loud.

"Oh. Oh no," I began, just trying to take in the full brunt of what was happening. I lifted my hand lightly to see a scorching sun and moved it back before commenting, "This wasn't where I…" I couldn't finish my statement, knowing for sure this was not where my nap began. If this was a dream, it wouldn't be so vivid and real. If it was a prank by my coworkers… No, they're a bunch of lazy pricks, they wouldn't go through all the effort to haul me several hours out into a desert.

Then I noticed the pangs. The utter striking hunger I felt. I needed to grab something to bite. Maybe I had a snack in my pocket or… As my hand naturally went to my pants, I found nothing but some plain underpants on my body, nothing even I would wear. I felt a gust of wind and several grains of sand across my bare chest. I moved my hand back up to my head to block out the sun, but I'd probably need to protect my face against sand flying into it. I could probably use both my arms as shields against…

Where's my arm? I immediately then noticed the root cause of my weightlessness: I was missing an entire arm, a stump in its place at the end of my left shoulder. I suppressed a need to yell out in a massive panic, not wanting to open myself up to sand flying into my mouth. However, I could not stop my honest assessment of everything up till now.

My voice full of despair, all I could say was, "I am so fucked."

This was it. One second, I'm head on my desk, the next, I'm in the Sahara, armless, probably kidney-less, and drier than a raisin. This was the worst kind of dream, assuming it even is a dream. I was beyond dead meat. If I had even a paper clip, I could make this somehow work, maybe, although that would still take a metric ton of luck to pull anything off with. I have nothing and I'm already hungry. I want to give up, but I know that's the slow and painful way out.

Almost reluctant to, I peer around to see if there is anything even remotely in the area. Sands as far as the eye can see and even what appears to be dust storms kicking up. Fantastic, just what I wanted to-

Civilization. Buildings towering off in the distance, a wall of some kind. From here, it looks like something, and I'll be damned if I won't take that. Maybe they have some kind of homeless shelter or some kind of work or service or SOMETHING for me to help me get on my feet.

Speaking of getting on my feet, I try desperately to use my single arm to get myself to my weak feet. My legs are looking like toothpicks compared to when I last remembered them. Bear in mind, I am a skinny guy, but now I flat out look like a bone dry skeleton of a man.

An embarrassing amount of time later, sand filled out my toes and made everything at least 20 times more uncomfortable. Not to mention my feet burned. A lifetime of shoes and socks have spoiled me beyond all usefulness for this current situation. If I had known I- Actually, scratch that, who in their right mind prepares for this exact scenario? It's not like anyone would just make an easy step by step 'underwear only desert guide'.

I began an awkward shuffle to the walled settlement, at least I hoped they were walls, and embarked upon my 'epic quest' in earnest. I slowly began to pick up my face, not wanting to scorch my feet too terribly by standing in one spot for too long. Nothing was more encouraging for movement to the hungry than the burning sensation sun-dried sand will give them.

The dunes, at least I think that's the term for them, started to pick up in height, but scaling them gave me a better view of just where I was. Looking about as best as I can, I could see some clouds of sand blowing around, obscuring a lot of what I could see, although I saw what appeared to be mountains or cliffs of some kind off in the distance. If I knew my geography well enough, on the other side of those should be more hospitable lands. Hopefully. I had no way of knowing for sure without wandering over.

First, however, came the settlement. Just as I was attempting to look upon it, a cloud of sand started blowing on through right in front of me. I was quickly assailed by a storm of granular sands flying at decent speeds. If my feet were getting hot, at least this was slightly more cool, but no less uncomfortable. Seriously, how do people stomach living around here? I stopped thinking and got into a solid run through the storm.

One misstep, however, found me blown down by the storm and sent rolling down a dune. In retrospect, it was pretty fun, but terrifying at the time just to find myself rolling with no clear end. A mouthful of sand and underwear filled with the uncomfortable rocky cargo that littered the area, I debated simply accepting my fate right there. I was so close that I couldn't give up, but it was tempting.

Getting back up and scaling another dune with a hand helping me, not covering my eyes was a mistake as sand blasted my poor face in all the irritable ways it was prone to do. After making it to the top of the dune, I quickly covered myself with my only arm and began the run again.

A fair bit of the way there, I thought I saw something in the clouds of sand. Some kind of arthropod, like a bug, that vaguely reminded me of some kind of deformed antlion. Worse yet, it appeared to be of terrifying proportions. The details were incredibly difficult to make up, and it only appeared for perhaps a second before the storm continued. I don't even know if it was real or if my brain was making it up to scare me into moving faster.

All I know is: I shouldn't be here. I needed to keep going. Nothing was going to stop me from making it to the town, phantasmal giant antlion be damned. Skimming across these sands would bring me to that one settlement, and, assuming I make it, all will be well. Or, at the very least, better.


I don't know how much time passed in my run. After making it to within a better visual range of the town, the storm finally cleared up enough to let me see the salvation I was looking for: sturdy looking walls that looked like they were some weird fusion of modern architecture and medieval. The walls lined up with a round tower that poked out and looked constructed of concrete. A large gatehouse that followed this same sort of style was at the… Front? Side? I don't know, the settlement didn't really seem like it was oriented any sort of way from this view. I think I saw a windmill, too, which is a great sign, even if it did look kind of like something I'd see in a Fallout game.

Alarmingly, however, I finally saw people for the first time since I woke up in this utter hellscape. Inspecting them from here, they looked like trash samurai. No, I cannot come up with a better description. They had little samurai helmets that looked like garbage and had antennae sticking out of them. Their 'armor' plates were uneven in a lot of places, although they'd probably still work well enough. It just looked sloppy. They had scratches all over them, probably from being out in the sandstorms all day. Underneath the armor, I thought I saw plain shirts. Their pants seemed armored, at least like samurai armor and junky in style, and they had segmented boots. All in all, it looked kind of silly. However, they all appeared to have sword-spear things that they were holding out. I'm not super knowledgeable on weapons, so I didn't really know what to call them besides that. They were just about the most intimidating part of their appearance.

Most importantly, looking at their exposed skin in a few places and at their general body structure, I could tell they were human. Probably. It looked like some had dark skin, some had light skin, so all was hopefully well in terms of stuff regarding race. I had no real idea, but these guys looked like guards. Actually, one looked like a woman, so guys and gal. There were five of them stationed out there. More importantly, however, it looked like they had taken notice of me just as I did of them.

That's the part I hate most: Them noticing me. It's all fine and well to observe people, but the moment they catch you, it just becomes awkward, and nothing is more awkward than five highly equipped people in medieval suits of metal noticing you eyeing them the wrong way. At the very least, none of them are brandishing their weapons at me, so evidently, I'm not a problem to them. Actually, I don't think an armless naked man in the desert who is starving is a problem for anyone.

No time like the present, I suppose. I took my tentative steps towards the first people I ever laid eyes on in this sorry state and beheld the gate that prevented scum like me from getting in nice and easy. Thankfully for me, I'm very good at talking my way into things. I open my mouth to speak and quickly realize how parched I am before I let out an involuntary cough. I probably looked pathetic. Regardless, pressing on, "Hello!" I began.

The guards seemed to stand guard for a moment, as if simply observing me. One of the guys, the one in the middle, replies, "Traveller."

Great! They speak English! This makes everything so much easier! And to think I thought of giving up at the first hurdle. I'll be in there in no time, and I can get my bearings and whatnot.

I continue moving forwards, but stop right before the steps as the guards move a bit, moving into a more aggressive stance. I put my hand up slightly, trying hard not to focus on the burning sand as I laugh lightly, saying, "You know I'm not here to cause trouble, right?" Best to appeal to their defensive nature.

The guy in the middle talks down to me, "We can't let you in looking like that." Huh?

"Excuse me? I've just had a pretty bad day, man. That's all. I swear I normally look better than this." It's true, I normally have ten fingers.

"It's not that," the guard waves, "You do know poverty is illegal in the United Cities, right?"

"What," is all I could respond with. I'm pretty sure it's illegal to be homeless where I'm from, but there's at least some fancy wording about it. This is just a straight up 'poor die' policy. "What the hell? How does that even work?"

"It just does," the man stamps his foot down, "Now get. I'm sick of looking at you."

Here I thought my charisma would carry the day, but legal matters have once again stopped me in my tracks. "Wait, hold on," I interject my thoughts, "Where am I even?" I finally had a person who I could interact with and learn details about this place.

"Sho-Battai. If you want scraps, I advise heading west," the leader tells me very bluntly. His tone was not even remotely friendly by this point, but I needed more info.

"What's west?"

"A direction," the guy points his spear-sword staff off behind me.

"Yeah, I gathered as much," I mutter. Alright, nevermind, there was nothing for me here. At the very least, I know which way was west. If I were a wiser man, I'd have studied up which direction the sun is supposed to rise from, but evidently, I was never wise enough to predict me landing here. I've never heard of a Sho-Battai ever, and I've never seen such a people in my life. Might be Asian, like Mongolian? I don't know.

However, something that definitely didn't line up here was how they were using medieval looking stuff. Last I can recall, every military nowadays used guns, but this was strange. Wait a second…

"So…" I begin to ask, "What year is it?"
"What's it to you?" the guard responds with hostility.

"And so we've met an impasse…" I intone out loud, throwing out my hand while groaning. "Fine, fine, I'll get out of your hair," I concede. Turning about, I realize quickly this is going to be harrowing.

Poverty is literally illegal. I'm in a medieval land with half my elbows and no grease for them. I have no means to protect myself. I am hungry, like really hungry.

My face felt like it was sagging downwards as I let loose a gust of air from my lungs I had been holding in, and I began to walk, commenting on my current situation in order to sum it up, "This blows."

Back my hand went up to my eyes just to protect them from the occasional winds of sand. I'd need to get back on the move once again. This time, though, I'm not particularly in a hurry anymore. Not like there's much reason to be in one, besides the scorching sands.

Walking now, however, I realize that maybe trying to jog was the best policy. I was not in great shape, admittedly, but I could at least try to run a bit at a time. Wandering west under the scorching sun was my… I don't really want to say my best bet since the obviously best bet was getting in that city any way possible, even being arrested, but it was a better bet than starving in one spot till I could no longer move.


My lack of athleticism struck at the worst of times. I was deep in a cloud of dust and sand when I came face to face with another group of people. I could hardly even see them approaching, like a massive fog was in the area, before it was too late and I was standing about 20 feet away from them. At least, I think it was that far away. They had what appeared to be solid armor looking cobbled together armor with clothing underneath. Most notably, however, was their helmets, which covered their faces from the storm. They were made of metal. Every single one of them had what appeared to be some kind of club at their side, just dangling off in the sands, blowing with them.

Looking onto them, I could see one with horns coming out from the side of their helmet, a big guy with… Boney arms? Weird armor, I suppose. But the more I observed it, the more it appeared like the guy's skin sort of melded with the bone, as if it wasn't actual worn armor but instead some kind of exoskeleton. But that didn't make sense…

As I sat there pondering this, I heard through the storm a chatter amongst them. I couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but I felt some kind of tension between the two of us. Well, I say two, but it was one of me and however many of them there were. I started to back away instinctually, my body starting to enter panic mode.

They started to grab at their clubs and started moving towards me in the sands.

"Nope," was all I said before turning tail and sprinting as fast as I could away from them. There was no way in that heavy-ish looking armor that they'd catch me, but I had to outendure them too. I'd already been jogging, and I think they had shoes on. Odds are, I'd need to find some stuff to hide behind. I thought I saw stuff poking out of the sands, but I wasn't too sure about much in the distance besides the towns. I imagine being out in the sun all day messes with you.

Running across the sands filled me with a sense of peril but safety. I knew I could outpace these guys, I just had to outlast them. That's all it would take. Surely, everything would end up fine if I… Perfect plan: Make it back to Sho-Battai. I think that was its name. They would never pursue me when… Actually, nevermind, the guards would not give a damn.

In my brainstorming process, I peered back to see if they even thought of still chasing. I probably wasn't worth the effort and…

They were faster than me?! They were closer than before and kept chasing after me.

"Oh sh-" was all I got out before I felt a crack on my foot, probably a rock or something, and started to tumble down the dune like I did before.

I threw my one arm out to try and stop my descent, but it was worthless without a second arm. In my rolling, I occasionally saw the huge guy with horns and bones and whatnot sliding down towards me, club in hand.

I let out a scream of desperation for help, but somehow, I knew it was going to be pointless. These guys were literally about to kill me out here in this desert. I was going to die, and nothing was going to stop that fact. It was a good run, at the very least. Well, at least until this part.

I eventually hit the ground and before I could even try to get up, I saw boots press down in front of me. My head wandered up, seeing the large leg of my soon-to-be-killer. I could see inside the helmet that there were actual bones around this guy's eyes. They were on his cheeks and on his brow. Yet, they were moving with his expression, as if just part of his biology. It looked so uncanny and frankly disgusting to me.

"Don't get up," the thing's rough and deep voice said as it seemed to put away its club at its side.

It wasn't going to kill me? That was a plus, but I decided to warn it, anyways. "I have nothing to steal. Just let me go, and we can forget this ever happened. It's not worth your time." Being calm under pressure is difficult, but I wasn't about to let nerves dictate a bad action.

The thing just laughed as it brought out… What appeared to be shackles.

"Oh," I commented out loud, "Oh, that's much worse than what I thought you were doing."

Just as I said that, three more pairs of boots appeared around me, and peering around revealed humans of different shapes, colors, and sizes with clubs around me, I think talking with each other.

The horned thing clicked the shackles in place while I was distracted.

I wanted to shake and fuss, but I felt a weakness overtake me. My stomach grumbled heavily as I felt a fading sensation. Adrenaline was only keeping me awake for so long, I suppose.

The horned thing chuckled once more as my vision faded, explaining loud and clear for me, "Say goodbye to your freedom, chumbo."