I am often asked why we did not fire that wood, why we did this or that, or followed the river upstream to the camp that served the Kamajeen as a capital.
And my answer is simple; we were soldiers, and those were the orders. A grim pall of the death march had long ago settled on us. Most didn't think we would survive.
I knew I didn't have the 1500 development points to be born again; I didn't even have access to the ability, according to my System.
With statistics far below what I needed to be an effective combatant... well, I could handle one of the riding lizards. One.
We learned that first day to wash our forage; the Kamajeen were urinating on the food sources. We came across a camp of them logging dead wood to the stump, in an attempt to deprive us of fires. The river water needed to be boiled.