His in game clock told him he’d only been sleeping for 2 hours, when a cracking sound awoke him. The length of wood he’d used to hold the hatch closed was cracking, as something was forcing it open. Rolling to his feet, Jicker drew his sword and hoped that whatever was coming in was even weaker than he was. This proved unlikely as the hatch finally gave out, and a goblin armed with what looked to be a crowbar dropped down.

“Thought ya could hide down ‘ere did ya? Well I saw ya diggin’ didn’t I? Now, hand over your things before I brain ya!” The goblin shrieked in a high pitched voice.

Jicker had always thought of goblins as weak little pests, and apart from the odd one or two that had always held true. But when you had to look up at one of them that was no longer the case.

“I don’t have anything!” he said quickly, trying to get it to leave.

“Psh, all you gremlins got things. I seen ‘em! Now gimmee!”

“I really don’t! I only got thrown in the Pit today” he exclaimed, trying to put distance between them as the goblin slowly advanced.

It paused as he said this, cocking its head to one side. “What, really?” it asked, sounding unsure.

“Yes.” Jicker said relieved he’d gotten through.

“Gah!” it screamed. “Spent all day spyin’ on ya, and ya got nothin’!”

“Sorry.”

A dark expression fell on the goblins malformed face. “Maybe you do have something after all.”

“What? I told you I only came in today, I haven’t had time to find anything.” He said confused.

“Haven’t had fresh meat in a while, have I?” It cackled, revealing its sharp teeth, raising its crowbar high.

Leaping quickly out of the way, Jicker drew his sword, keeping it between them. He knew he was in trouble, even if they were the same level; a goblin would naturally be stronger than he was. Without the perception skill, there was no way to see an enemy’s level, but this one, by the way it lazily avoided his panicked swings, was clearly several levels higher than him.

“Come on, let’s make this quick, ye? Don’t want you to get stringy, do we.” It laughed; batting away his swings at it came closer.

But this game was more than just numbers, though it took most people along time to realise it. Because while your stats and level dictated how fast, how strong and how tough you were, they didn’t dictate what you did with that strength. So as the goblin closed in, Jicker threw a handful of muck he’d picked up while he’d been swinging ‘wildly’, into its eyes. Screeching in surprise, it dropped its weapon, trying to wipe its eyes clear. Taking the advantage, he gripped his sword, and drove it through the goblins chest.

Or at least, he tried to. Instead, less than an inch in, the blade stopped as it hit bone, Jicker lacking the strength to force it in any further. Having cleared its eyes, it knocked the blade away with one hand, sending it clattering away. Reaching over, it grabbed him by the throat and began to strangle him.

“You’ll pay for that, wretch.” It snarled in a guttural tone, all traces of mirth gone from its face.

Clawing at the hands around his throat, Jicker was unable to move, them the goblins grip on him to strong. Only managing feeble slaps against his attacker, Jicker desperately tried to think of something, anything to get loose. His vision began to go dark from lack of oxygen, his mouth filling with saliva, as his throat was crushed. An idea suddenly formed in his mind, something he prayed would work, otherwise, he was out of options.

Keeping his mouth shut, he focused as hard as he could. This would work, he thought to himself, feeling himself growing dizzy, it had too. Precious moments passed, the sounds of the goblin grunting as it tried to crush the life from him filling the ships hold, when suddenly...

Mother of Invention! You have discovered how to replace water in some of your recipes with gremlin saliva! These versions are only 50% as effective, and will only work for you.

Finally! Jicker thought, and spat into the goblins face. For a moment nothing happened, the goblin not even flinching, dealing with worse in the Pit every day. Then the skin where the spittle had struck began to blister and crack. Shrieking, the goblin dropped him, clawing at its face in pain and suprise. Sucking a lungful of air, he pushed himself to his feet, knowing the goblin would be on him again him again. Staggering, he retrieved his blade and struck at the goblins back, which was crouched on the ground, rubbing at its face with dirt. Crying out again, the goblin turned to him, murder in one eye and the other sealed shut from the swelling in its face. Not willing to give it an opening, Jicker renewed his attacked, repeatedly striking at it, aiming for its now blinded side. He knew he didn’t have a lot of hitpoints left, and one good shot from it would finish him. Eventually, the goblin slowed, unable to keep up, not having been prepared for an actual fight. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the goblin fell.

Goblin has been slain. You have received 338 EXP! You have reached level 2!

You have 5 points left unassigned. Assign points now?

“Yes.” He croaked, rubbing his throat. He really had to find some source of water.

The sheet opened up before him, giving him five points to distribute amongst his stats. Strength would improve his ability to do melee damage, as well his carrying capacity and overall physical might. Dexterity governed his accuracy and hand eye coordination, plus his natural agility and speed. Constitution was his physical fortitude, which determined his health and resistances. Intelligence controlled his skill with spell casting and crafting, and allowed him to collect and retain information more easily. Wisdom was based on your spirit, determining your mana and your ability to resist magical effects.

Looking at his options, Jicker decided to drop every point in intelligence. While his lack of strength and constitution were problems, increasing those would take twice as many points as normal. Besides, he figured, intelligence was going to the most important stat he had, and it had saved him before.

Sitting down to catch his breath, he stared up the ceiling as he tried to get his heart rate under control. The rational part of his mind knew that if the goblin had won, he wouldn’t have really died; he’d have just lost a level, some skills, and be locked out for a day. But in the heat of battle, with the feelings of fear, anger and pain being so realistic, that part of your brain found it hard to make its self heard.

He stared blankly at the body of the goblin, that moments ago had been trying to kill him, and struggled to his feet, sighing as he did so. Some games of the genre had it so all of the creature’s items just appeared in a little pile in front of it when it dies, but Genesis prided itself on realism. So despite a lot of initial protests and complaints, collecting loot from a kill required you to actually go and search the body, with the exception of bosses or monsters where it would be just impractical.

Going through what could technically be called its pockets, Jicker managed to find a few silver coins, which disappeared as they were added to his inventory. The only other things it had were its rusty crowbar, a weapon worse than his sword, and a piece of slightly rotting fruit.

Grimacing, he ate the fruit, needing the food one way or another, and dragged the body into the corner. Bodies degraded pretty quickly in game, turning to bones in just a few days. He’d get rid of it in the morning, once he’d slept and recovered some hitpoints. Re-barricading the hatch, he went back to sleep, figuring that things would be quiet for the rest of the evening.

The low hissing that awoke him however, proved him wrong. Opening his eyes and reaching for his weapon, he was confronted with a rat. Already scarred and wounded, a rat shouldn’t have been a threat to a player, but not only was Jicker still injured from earlier, but this rat was easily two feet tall at the shoulder.

Giant rats weren’t unheard of; in fact they were fairly common in some areas. But at his size, this was the equivalent of a wolf, not something you want to wake up to. For whatever reason, it hadn’t attacked him yet, instead just staring at him hissing.

“Shoo? Don’t eat me?” He said hesitantly, hoping that wouldn’t provoke it to attack. He did not want Jicker’s first death to be being eaten by a giant rat. Fortunately, the rat didn’t react and just continued hissing at him, not moving from its place in the corner of the hull, near what looked to be a tunnel through one of the spots where the wood had broken open. But it didn’t just stare at him he noticed, as he watched it. Its eyes would also flick over to the corner past him, over where he’d put the body...

“Do you want that? Are you...hungry?” He wondered aloud. If that was the case, it must have followed the smell and found its way in. It didn’t look like it had much fight left in it, so it was probably avoiding any conflict, even though it could definitely take him easily. Getting up slowly, he moved over towards the body, the rat tracking him, but so far not moving from its spot. He wasn’t strong enough to move the body very quickly, so instead, gritting his teeth, he pulled out his sword. The rat flinched for a moment before settling back down again when he brought the blade down on the body. After a few swings, he managed to cut off an arm, which he quickly threw towards the rat. It eyed the limb suspiciously for a moment, then decided it was worth the risk and fell upon it ravenously. The sight of the rat gnawing on the piece of goblin made him want to throw up, but he didn’t know when he’d next find food, so he forced himself to keep it down.

After a few minutes, the rat had finished eating the arm, even crushing and swallowing the bones, and began to once again eye the rest of the body. Not wanting to cut any more pieces off, he backed away from the body, leaving a clear path for the rat. Slowly, keeping watch of him as it moved, it dragged itself towards the body, and began to rip into it, eating as quickly as it could. Only when it had moved did Jicker realise the one of its rear legs was broken, likely the main reason it hadn’t wanted to fight. He thought about trying to leave since he could outrun it, but odds were, even with the rat, he was safer in here than out in the open.

Looking at the rat, he decided to try something. It might get him attacked, but it seemed happy enough just eating the corpse, and he wasn’t going to sleep while it was here. Slowly moving closer, he triggered his anaesthetic ability, spitting into his hand. It gave off a light blue glow, as he did so, illuminating the room, and alerting the rat. It stopped eating for a moment, turning to look at Jicker who froze, before returning to its meal. Taking a deep breath, he moved closer and applied the salve to the rat’s leg.

As soon as he made contact it twisted around, hissing and spitting at him, causing him to fall back. For a moment he thought it was going to tear him to shreds, but then it paused and sniffed at its leg where he’d touched it, then resumed eating. Jicker breathed out a sigh of relief, moving back to his own spot in the room. The weakened version of the salve would only heal five hp, not nearly enough to fully heal the rat’s injuries, but any form of healing triggered the body’s own healing, letting it get to work on restoring its functions. He wasn’t sure it was the best plan to heal a creature that might try and eat him later, but he had time to kill, and it would help him increase his skills.

Once the rat finished eating, leaving only a few splatters and bits of gristle around, it moved back towards its tunnel then curled up and went to sleep. Seeing that the rat didn’t have any plans to try and eat him, Jicker gave up and tried to get some rest himself, hoping to actually be able to do so until morning.

Light broke into the hull as the sun rose, slipping through the cracks in the upper deck that had become his roof. Yawning as he stretched, he scratched his neck, considering just going back to sleep, when he suddenly remember his visitor. Looking around quickly, the rat was nowhere to be found, apparently having left in the night at some point.

“Well, I survived the night, so I guess I’ll call it a win.” He said to himself, his voice hoarse and scratchy. While his hitpoints had recovered, water was becoming an urgent requirement to survive, and was now priority one. Making sure his sword was secure, and grabbing one of the sacks to carry what he found, he pulled himself up through the hatch, covering it up with loose trash to disguise it.

He tried searching around the edge of the Pit when he’d been looking around before, wanting to avoid the more populated centre. But water ran down hill, so if he wanted to find some, he’d need to head lower into the crater. Keeping an eye out for both threats and things of value, he made his way down, using the tall ship mast as a way of keeping his bearings through the maze-like junk.

Hours had passed, and he’d all but given up, when he slipped and fell on a strip of mud hiding under some rotting leaves. He was about to curse his luck, when logic jumped to the front of his mind, telling him that mud meant water. Following the trail down its slope, he spotted more and more Pit dwellers skulking through the twisting paths. There had to be something here, he figured, to attract all these people. Eventually he found it: a murky, brown pool of water, with chunks of rusting metal and other pieces of garbage floating in it. He thought he must have missed the real one, when he saw an orc approach the pool and drink a few handfuls before moving on.

Making sure he was unseen, he approached the pool, keeping to the shadows as much as he could. Taking a handful of the foul water, he hoped his disease resistances would be up to the task. It tasted exactly as he’d expected, foul, gritty and pungent. But it was water, beautiful live preserving water, and that was the important thing. Drinking his fill, while spitting out the odd leaf or wood chip, he moved away from the pool, now needing to find some food as the fruit he’d eaten yesterday was doing nothing to fill him.

Apart from the garbage that was thrown down the sides of the Pit, he didn’t know what other food sources were down here, but he assumed there was something. The memory of the goblins attempt to kill and eat him however, didn’t reassure him about his chances.

Slinking through the garbage, he spotted a few birds perched on the garbage, looking to be somewhere between a seagull and a crow. He was wondering how he could try and catch one when an arrow came out of nowhere and pierced one, sending the rest of its flock scattering. A goblin climbed to where it had fallen carrying a crude looking crossbow, making Jicker glad he’d stayed hidden.

“A bow, sure, I can do that.” He whispered. There had to be some things around he could make one out of, he thought, beginning to rummage around. There plenty of lengths of wood that, with a bit of work, could make a rough bow, but finding the string was proving far more difficult. Cloth and other fibres didn’t appear to survive very well down here, so a sturdy enough cord was almost impossible to track down.

His searching bore other fruit however. A plank of wood he picked up turned out to be a broken lid of a crate, half buried in the muck, its contents still inside. Apparently it had been a box of some kind of preserves, which had expired a long, long time ago. While most of the jars were cracked and broken, half a dozen of them were still sealed. Once he managed to get rid of their current contents, it gave him away to carry some water back to his home. If he could find a way to filter it, he’d be set he thought happily as he carefully put them in his bag. As he slung it over his shoulder, he decided he really needed to get himself a proper pack. Without one, everything apart from currency was its normal size and weight, but a properly made one could contain literal tons of items using an inventory system while still being functionally portable. As it was now, his feeble strength meant it was an effort just carrying the jars of water back home.

As he dropped into the ship hold and barred the hatch, he turned to find the rat had returned. Sitting in the corner near its tunnel, the rat stopped what it was doing and stared at him. It had apparently caught several of what looked like giant cockroaches the size of chickens, and been eating them before it was interrupted by his arrival. Looking at it, Jicker was surprised at the changes in its appearance. While its leg was still badly damaged, a large meal, some healing and night’s sleep had apparently done it wonders. Its fur, previously matted and patchy with small injuries, had smoothed out becoming almost silky, its gaunt frame now having filled out to look far more solid. It didn’t appear to consider him a threat, and just continued to eat as he made his way to his normal seat.

When he opened one of the jars to grab a drink however, its head lifted its head up, focusing intently on the open jar. Jicker looked at the jar and shrugged, pouring most of it in to a piece of broken barrel. He slowly moved over to the rat, keeping the bowl between them. Putting down the bowl, he saw that the roaches did look like they contained a fair amount of meat...

“Trade?” he asked the rat. He didn’t expect an answer but it seemed to agree, happily drinking the water while he grabbed one its prizes. While he was nearby, he used some of the water and applied another dose of healing to its leg, watching the wounds slowly close up. It sniffed at its leg, licking at the remains of the water, and then sniffed at Jicker who tried to remain very still, before returning to its water bowl.

You have unlocked the Handle Animal skill!

Current level: 1

Allows for greater understanding between you and animals, increases your respect with neutral animals, and increases effects of abilities on animals.

“Neat.” He said surprised. Most skills required a trainer to get the first level and teach you the basics, but apparently you didn’t need one for this. Skills were a core part of the game, and while you could get as many as you wanted, they took a long time to train, so people generally only picked up the ones they felt were necessary. A free one was a big win this early on, and would be a big help, even if he didn’t make much use of it. Now all he had to do was-

You have been playing for more than 12 hours.

It is recommended by Masquerade Entertainment that you take a break.

-Take a break apparently. It was very easy to lose track of time in game, more than one person becoming dangerously dehydrated while playing. Since then they’d add these time warnings to remind people that eating in game didn’t actually feed you.

Seeing that the rat had gone to sleep, he decided now was as good a time as any to log out for a while.

~~~~~~

Taking off the head set, he was greeted by bright sunlight streaming through the window. Checking the clock, it was 11:30, too late for breakfast but just fine for an early lunch. Throwing some noodles in the microwave, he grabbed a quick shower and cleaned himself up. He might be planning to sleep all day, but a person, Matt felt, should have standards. Besides, you never knew when men in suits would come and drag you away for a meeting. Sitting down at the table he browsed the news, as he ate, seeing what the real world had been up to since last night.

Apart from a bit about the continued effects of “Maser’s Upheaval”, the rest was fairly standard. There were a few murders, a robbery, some political slander and a piece about cats in costumes, the usual. At least his actions weren’t the entire networks main focus anymore, but he’d probably make an appearance for the next few months.

Going out to check the mailbox, he found a small box sitting by his front door with a small, unmarked letter sitting on top. Taking it inside, he opened the up the envelope and reading the short note inside.

“Mr. Harper,

As per our discussions, I’ve taken the liberty of securing you one of our latest products, the PK4 virtual mask. This is top of the line model we produce; in fact it doesn’t go public for several more weeks, so I’d appreciate you not sharing it with anyone. In addition, the first part of your remuneration has been sent as per the agreement.

Looking forward to seeing your results,

August Fronz”

“Bastards definitely good at sounding polite.” He muttered as he opened the box. Inside was a sleek white mask with the company’s logo on the front. The back, lined with thin but firm foam, fitted to his face as if it had been moulded for it. Considering the person it was from, he wasn’t a hundred percent sure it hadn’t been.

Deciding to be productive, he put the mask away and went to his email to have a look at the contract he’d been “asked” to sign. Most of it was in legal jargon he didn’t really understand, but the main aspect of it was clear enough: he was to cause large amounts of chaos and disruptions, suitable for the company’s interests, without involving them in any way, shape or form. As long as he did so, and maintained the secrecy about his actions, he would be reimbursed each month based his actions plus a retainer. If he hadn’t been forced into it, it was honestly a pretty good deal, but the reasoning for it gave Matt a sour taste in his mouth.

Thinking about the meeting, he remembered that they said they’d reimburse him for his old character for a fairly ridicules amount of money. He’d had about fifteen grand put aside; he thought as he opened up his banking online, I wonder if they actually plan on...

Balance: $314,234.92

He refreshed the browser, and refreshed it again. “Not a glitch then,” he muttered to himself, a catch in his throat, “They actually paid me...Right.”

He sat staring at the screen for several minutes, unsure of how to react. One thing was for sure though, as he picked up the phone to make a call.

“Hello, Greenmart produce, how can I help you?” a gruff voice answered when they picked up.

“Hey Steve, its Matt, I'm calling to-“He began.

“Matt! How are you? Let’s see, you’re not scheduled for today, and I told you last week I can’t give you anymore hours, so what’s this about then?” Steve replied. Steve had been a great boss, always looking out for his employee’s best interests. But with robotics becoming cheaper and more efficient every year, it was getting harder and harder for him to justify having as many employees.

“Actually, I’m kind of calling to, um; give my two weeks’ notice?” Matt said awkwardly.

“Great! If you want, I can take you off the roster now instead of two weeks.” He said cheerfully.

“I... What?” Matt asked, confused.

“It’s about time you found a better gig than this one, bright guy like you. That is the situation, right? Your arts picked up, or you’ve found somewhere better?” he said, sounding hesitant.

“Ah, yeah, that sort of thing.”

“Good, good.” He said relieved. “I’ll sort out the paperwork on my end, but this is great news. I’d had to cut your hours back for a while now, so I’m glad you’re moving up and out. So, do you want to work for the next two weeks or...?”

“Nah, it’s probably easiest if I end now if you think its fine.”

“No problems at all, just drop by some time before then to sign the papers and pick up your things. I’d talk longer, but I’ve got an old woman demanding to see me at register three. Good luck out there Matthew.”

“Thanks Steve.” Matt said, relieved it had gone so smoothly.

Hanging up the phone he leaned back, covering his face with his hands. He had now officially put all his eggs in one basket, one not even really controlled by him. Still, he already had enough to pay off his loans, his university debts, fix up his car... That damned CEO might have him on a leash, but at least it was an expensive one.

Since it had now apparently become his full time job, he spent some time looking into information on his class and race. The company had always refused to give out any information towards the game, so all he had to go on were the words and reports of other players. Gremlins, as he’d expected, got a bad rap from pretty much everyone, with more than a few people saying it had cheated them of being able to play the game. Apart from that, the only redeeming feature was the racial ability mother of invention, with a few people saying it had saved them alot of money over the years.

The Dark Chemist class however, was a different story. It took almost half an hour for him to find any mention of the class, and when he did so it was a forum page from several years ago. Most of it was complaints and questions, people unable to figure out what to do with it.

“What the point of this class? You can buy potions that are better for pretty much the same cost.”

“Why do the poisons do more than the healing, but still have you build like a healer?”

“Why would anyone be this over a normal healer or assassin?”

And above all, something that appeared in almost every second post:

“How does the Adaptation skill work?”

He could agree with that sentiment. He’d read and reread the skill, but couldn’t make heads or tails of it. It looked vaguely like some kind of longer term buff with some weird requirements, though why you had the option to buff an unwilling creature was weird. Eventually, down near the bottom, almost two years after the last post about the class, there was one last post about it.

“I don’t know if anyone will bother to look at this, or if anyone but me was still trying to use the class, but Adaptation is not what we thought it was. I used for ages as a way of making some animal look weird and be tougher, and make it go in as distraction. But eventually I got the permanent trigger to actually go off. The damn thing, a bear I’d covered in spikes and armour plates, became a unique mob that I could name. I still didn’t get control over it but I made a mob! Now, the ‘Spine Bear’ as I called it is considered a low level boss for the forest I made it in. It’ll even respawn when it gets killed; it’s got loot, everything! It’s crazy! I didn’t want to put my name on it to begin with since it looked a bit derpy, but I wish I had now. I can’t believe no one else managed this, though I suppose it took me 3 years to pull it off. And now that I've done it, I'm going to change class. I swore I wouldn’t give up until I got it to work, and now that I have... I want to go and have some fun instead. Maybe a fire mage! Ka-boom!”

Matt read through it again, making sure he hadn’t missed anything. They wanted him to change up the game? Well apparently he could really make some lasting changes. It wasn’t what he’d initially planned, but the idea of creating some big boss monsters to get people’s attention appealed to him.

He remembered the Spine Bear from his own time playing; it had simply shown up one day, wiping out a small party of players that hadn’t been expecting it. Afterwards, players came in droves to defeat it and get the rare bone shards it dropped to craft weapons with.

Grabbing a glass of orange juice he lay on the couch, his imagination running wild with ideas of crazy monsters he could make. His face screwed up however, when he realised he couldn’t do it yet.

“Still got to get out of the damn Pit.” He muttered, swearing. He tried looking for tips online on how to get out, but while there a few bits and pieces on starting in Mount Kaloh, the closest he got to dealing with the Pit was one goblin players report.

“I ate garbage for three weeks, reached level ten, and was still no closer to getting out. Give up and restart. I did.”

“If it can be thought of, it can be done.” He said to himself. It was the mantra that had kept him going during the last two years, which he’d held on to no matter what. It was possible to get out of the Pit, so he would do it. Now he just had figure out how.

~~~~~~

Dropping back in, it was still evening, though the rat appeared to have moved off again. He looked at the cockroach in his hands, his stomach growling. Whether it was because of hunger or disgust he wasn’t sure, but he had to eat. Rather than eat it raw like the rat had, he decided he’d spend some time and try to sort out a fire.

The hard part wouldn’t be finding something to burn, or to light it. That would be simple; in fact Jicker was surprised half the pit wasn’t on fire at any given time. No, the hard part would be figuring out a way to hide the light and smoke it gave off. Prying up a few hull planks with his crowbar, he dug a hole down below, only a foot down, but low enough that it would be far enough from the rest of the wooden ship, before lining it with some rocks and bits of broken pottery. Going out of the ship he gathered a few armfuls of wood that, combined with what was left in the hold, should keep him going for some time. Travelling further out for the day, he found a few length of old cord he believed would suit his needs, when he spotted something. Standing near the lip of the pit was an orc, bellowing insults at passersby, but from the way people ignored them, this was nothing new in Mount Kaloh. For a moment Jicker wondered why he was risking provoking retaliation, before figuring out that that was the whole point. Pit dwellers couldn’t leave the Pit, so if you wanted to challenge someone for the right to leave, you had to get them to come to you.

After a few minutes the orc’s shouting drew someone in, who began shouting back but remained outside the Pit. The insults grew worse and worse, attacking the others appearance, their smell and even their family, until the orc from above had had enough, and stepped in to silence him. This was what he’d been waiting for though, as the Pit dweller surged upwards, desperately trying to get over the lip of the crater, before the other. He’d made it almost to the top, when an axe the outsider had drawn buried itself in his back. Falling like a puppet with its strings cut, the orc fell only be stopped by the other. Leaning down, they appeared to whisper something to the dying orc before tearing free their axe and kicking the body further own hill. Laughing as the body bounced around as it struck various objects on its way down, the orc climbed back out of the Pit, while others went about as if nothing had happed.

Jicker was just beginning to head over to see what had happened to the orc when various shouts and cries began to echo around. Ducking under some debris, he saw dozens of goblins, gremlins and orc’s running towards where the body had fallen, pushing and shoving each other to get to it, and whatever it held, first. One larger orc, he spotted, didn’t seem to care about it for the same reasons, instead reaching down to a goblin who had lowered their guard and instantly broke their neck, sending a second wave of panicked frenzy through the group.

As quickly and quietly as he could, Jicker made his way back before sealing the hatch and curling up into a ball. It took almost an hour to get his emotions under control from the sudden panic, the weight of his situation hitting home. Any one of them could have killed him in seconds, and even they were too weak to fight those up top. He either needed to become much, much stronger, or find another way out. If he was even going to survive down here, he need to improve, which meant he need to figure out a way of storing his potions and poisons. He spent the rest of the day scratching designs in the dirt and making doses of his abilities, trying to find a way where he could secure them for later. Several ideas would work, but they all required things he simply didn’t have. If he had started out anywhere else, things would be so simple, but no. The AI had given him one of the worst races, in one of the harshest starting points. He understood why it didn’t like him, if that really was the case, but what about other players that ended up here? How could they survive under these conditions?

Eventually night fell and he was willing to risk a fire, hoping the dark would hide the smoke well enough. Scraping his swords and the crowbar against each other, he managed to get enough sparks to get a small flame going in his new fire pit. Cracking open the cockroach, he pulled out the largest pieces of ‘meat’ he could find and put them on sticks, hanging them over the fire. By the time they were cooked they still smelled pretty bad, but a lot better than they had when raw. Taking a bite, he found it had a surprising sweetness, leaving it tasting like an overripe melon but with the texture of burnt chicken. It as satisfying though, as ate the rest, managing to get through it all before the rat returned again.

Apparently it had decided that this made a good nest, and it didn’t seem to mind if it had a roommate. It approached the fire hesitantly, but eventually it stretched out beside it like a dog, chewing loudly on another roach it had brought down. Again it was willing to trade a cockroach for a bowl of water, giving him food for another day. He wasn’t sure if it was the handle animal skill, or whether he’d just gotten used to it, but the rat seemed far more relaxed around him now, not even moving when he applied a healing salve to its now almost restored leg.

As he sat quietly in the ship, watching the flames as he fed it more wood, his mind turned to the information he’d gotten on his abilities online.

“Adaptation huh?” He muttered, twisting a stick in his hands. Deciding to take a risk, he got up and fetched a bottle of water. Pouring some more out for the rat before taking a drink himself, he approached it.

“Can I try something on you? It won’t be bad, just ... don’t attack me okay?” he asked it quietly. It stared at him for a few moments, and then drank the water he’d poured for it and closed its eyes. Taking that as its consent, Jicker grabbed a handful of ash from the edge of the fire and applied a dose of tranquiliser to it, wanting to ensure it wouldn’t move around while he was trying this. Already tired, the rat immediately fell into a deep sleep, letting out low, nasally snores.

“Ok then Snuffles, let’s do this.” Jicker said to himself, before laying his hands on its side and activating the ability.

Immediately he was hit by a barrage of menus and screens, gauges and prompts. Having underestimated how detailed this would be, he was taken aback by the sudden information overload. After a few minutes he eventually figured out the majority of what they did and meant, and attached labels to a few of the various menus. Some were simple, like a dial that could make it bigger or smaller, others were less so, like one that apparently could adjust the creatures blood type. A bar on the side seemed to dictate how many changes he could make, with each addition or enhancement emptying the bar proportionally. Weakening it seemed to refill the bar, but not by as much as it should. Eventually he stopped playing around and got to work. A lot of options were currently locked out, from level restrictions he assumed, but there was still a massive amount to work with. After around half an hour he locked in his choices, and looked at his creation. The rat, once smooth and sleek, now sported a large pair of curling horns on it brow. An additional set of legs sat at the back of its extended body, before a tail taken from a scorpion curled over it. The fine fur had been replaced with a thick, rhino like hide giving it the overall appearance of...

Jicker sat back and wondered what had come over him. He had drawn up plenty of weird animals over the years on commissions, but those made a sort of sense. But as soon as he’d started messing around with the skill, he’d felt a driving need to create some twisted abomination, which explained how that person in the past had ended up with a spine bear. Apparently you needed to really focus or you’d end up with some weird freakish creation. Fortunately, it hadn’t been permanent, and after its duration expired, the rat shimmered, and took on its normal appearance, never even waking up during the experience.

While he needed to practice the skill, he also needed to be careful. The achievements the AI had given him gave him a much higher than normal chance of the changes becoming permanent, so he’d need to make sure that when he changed something, it was in a way he was happy with. But he’d figured out how it worked, he thought proudly, and it was something he could use. Now he just needed a way to get some use out of the rest of his skills. A way of storing up doses of his abilities, of using his poisons without getting beaten to pulp, perhaps a way to use them at range...

Considering that train of thought, Jicker decided to log off, and went go and see how you made a blowgun.