I discovered this when spelunking in a goblin fortress with an elf archer who was one of the first (and last) of his kind. He left the few forest retreats of the last remaining elven civilization in the world, slaughtered a few goblins who were miraculously hostile, and escaped down a very strange construction. He found himself on an underground road, and used it to flee his would-be killers.
Unfortunately, being an elf, he didn't come with the resources to survive down there. After a day or two of walking, he was dehydrated and quite willing to lick up some of the blood on his armor to sate his thirst. He eventually got hungry, and I can only assume he would have eventually gladly eaten the vomit on his boots. (or maybe that's something he would drink; I don't know.)
He was lucky enough to happen upon an another fortress, and smacked some goblins meandering down the underground road. Despite all the popular claims, he refused to do anything more than lick the corpses, much to my dismay. Now both drowsy and hungry, he attempted to climb up to the surface, only to be waylaid by a peasant (whom he quickly dealt with), and then have his upper body splattered by a goblin thief and his exceptional iron dagger.
I suppose it was appropriate, since his last name was something along the lines of 'Thundersplattered'.
Anyway, the moral of the story is any adventurer with a sufficient covering of blood and guts can also last a while underground.