Thunk

The dart sunk in to the side of the crate he’d set up as a target, only half an inch, but for his purposes it was more than enough. Since he’d decided to make it a few days ago, Jicker had spent a lot of his time practicing with his blowgun. He had reached a point where he could now consistently hit a target a few dozen meters away. Made of a length of copper pipe he’d found and altered, it stood at four feet tall and could double as a quarterstaff if the need arose.

Rough copper Blowgun

Item type: Weapon

Grade: Common

1-2 damage

This crude pipe can deliver small darts at a distance.

The darts had taken some work, but he’d had success with one made from nails he’d cleaned up and sharpened, some adhesive he’d managed to scrape off some furniture and reheat, and tufts of rat fur that fell out as it groomed itself. Combined with a dose of poison, he was able to routinely take down the roaches that the rat ate, following it when it went hunting.

The rat, which he had taken to calling Snuffles, had become more and more at ease with him, even getting him to cook some its food as well. These changes had improved his handle animal skill to level two, an impressive feat for a level two character. For his part, Jicker had continued practicing on the rat, managing to now make fairly sensible decisions when altering its shape, though the desire to make it breath fire was still strong.

So far he’d managed to avoid anymore Pit dwellers, though he knew that wouldn’t last forever, and he dreaded his next encounter. While he had a way of attacking at range now, he could only make one batch of poison every ten minutes, and with no way of storing them, that left him with a single shot. The one other time another goblin had stumbled upon his hideout, Snuffles had been home, and took only a few seconds to rip out its throat. He wasn’t sure how strong it was exactly, but it was clear that Snuffles was at least a dozen levels higher than he was.

Eventually, he was going to need to fight, otherwise he’d never get strong enough to get out of here, but he wasn’t sure how to go about it. The one real fight he’d had, he’d won true enough, but only through surprise, luck and overconfidence on their part. If they’d tried to kill him straight away, he’d have died plain and simple.

He had gone out to refill his water jars, something he had to do more often now that snuffles had figured out how to open them, and heading home when he saw the orc. Like the previous time, this orc was bellowing near the edge of the Pit, but unlike the other which was yelling insults, this one was declaring a straight challenge. Jicker recognized the orc; it was the large one that had so easily killed the goblin last time. Since this orc was at pretty much the top of the food chain in the Pit, he was curious to see how the fight would go. Getting closer, he found a spot where he could hide and watch, and waited.

After a few minutes of shouting, an orc came down and accepted his challenge. Shorter than the Pit dweller, the orc wore heavy armour, and carried both a thick shield and a longsword. Compared to the challenger, who was wearing some scraps that looked like rat pelts and carried a cobbled together axe, it didn’t look anywhere close to a fair fight.

As soon as the other stepped into the Pit, the dweller went on the offensive, charging forward faster than Jicker had expected they could manage. It was also apparently faster than the armoured orc expected, who barely managed to get his shield up in time. Unleashing a series of heavy blows, the Dweller kept on the attack, circling around until he had his back to the edge of the Pit. Not so that he could try and escape it seemed, as he pushed his foe further down, but so that his opponent couldn’t. Unable to match the outsider in their equipment, the orc seemed to be focusing on skill, strategy and rage. But that strategy could last forever, and eventually the armoured orc found the rhythm and began to hold his ground, even getting a few of his own blows in. But dweller’s frenzied blows had already given it a strong lead, and seemed inevitable that it would win what had become a drawn out trading of blows.

At least, until the outsider backed away suddenly, before drawing and drinking a potion from his belt. As his wounds healed before his eyes, he gave a wild howl and grinned madly at the larger orc, and jumped back into the fight. Where once he’d held the advantage, the orc now was trying to fight on even ground with a healthier and better armed opponent. Each blow mattered more and more as their health dropped and their wounds built up, but it seemed that the outsider would win this time as well. Unless...

Reaching for one of his darts, he dipped it into a handful of water, applying a dose of Anaesthetic to it. Loading the dart, he lined up the shot as best he could and, giving a short prayer to whomever would listen, fired. The dart flew through the air, and struck the dweller in the back of the shoulder. Whatever damage was done by the dart was over powered by the healing effect, and more importantly, applied a level of damage resistance.

Flinching slightly in surprise as the dart struck, the orc narrowly avoided an incoming blow, then gave an exuberant shout and returned the blow full force. While that would help him match the others armour, Jicker realised, it still couldn’t put out the same level of damage. Pulling out his sword, he cut open his palm, and pouring water on to the wound, created a dose of adrenaline. Loading it into his blowgun, he waited for an opening in the fight, and fired again. Not flinching this time, the orc seemed to have been ready for it, and engaged as soon as it struck. The extra speed and restored stamina, seemed to be enough to swing the fight back in his favour, and pushed forward.

Not liking the sudden turn of events, the outsider snarled and retreated slightly, going for another potion. But not having lived in the Pit, it was unused to the loose and random footing; it slipped and fell back, the vial flying from its hand. Snatching it out of the air, the dweller downed it immediately before advancing on his downed opponent. They tried to raise their shield to defend themselves, and appeared to make some kind of mercy plea, but the fight was done. Bring his axe down in a wide swing, the dweller severed his opponent's head, raising it high and screaming to the heavens. Throwing it down, he turned and began to climb out of the Pit when he paused. Reaching up to his shoulder, he pulled out one of the darts that was still embedded, and looked at it. He stared at it for a moment and then looked around, trying to spot its source. Despite being hidden in shadow, the orc spotted Jicker and met his gaze for a few seconds, before nodding, dropping the dart and climbing out the Pit.

Jicker didn’t even bother trying to go for the body or his darts this time, already there were cheers and cries of people racing for the fallen orc’s remains. Whoever got a hold of the armour and weapon would have a much better chance of getting out, so the competition would be fierce.

Heading home, he was filled with a sense of triumph. He hadn’t gotten out himself, but he’d proved it could be done.

The trick was, he realised, wasn’t to fight on their terms but to play to your strengths. It seemed incredibly obvious in hindsight, but with everyone else down here being some kind of warrior or thief, he’d lost sight of that. You didn’t need to be the best fighter; you just had to be the best you...

Looking at Snuffles, who was currently gnawing on jar lid, trying to open it, he realised where he’d been going wrong. The reason why rats lived and thrived in these sorts of conditions, was that they had grown and adapted to suit their environment. He didn’t need to try and create some new sort of monster; he just had to make a better rat.

Going over to Snuffles he opened the jar for it and filled its bowl, scratching it behind its ears until it settled down. Once it was calm enough to stay seated, Jicker activated his ability. Fighting off the various impulses, he got to work, following a plan. He didn’t try to add limbs or spikes; instead just working to enhance what was already there. This proved far more efficient than his other attempts, and by the time he was done, Snuffles had grown into a monster. Standing over four feet at the shoulder, it was over a dozen feet long, its tail looping around for another ten. Its muscles had been built up, though retaining its sleek build, and its claws and teeth were hardened to a point where they’d give iron a run for its money. The only addition he made was a foot long spike at the end of its tail, with edges sharp enough to cut through flesh.

When he’d first started experimenting, he’d been surprised how much he could do at such a low level. However he realised that through a combination of his skills, achievements and Snuffles’ higher level, he had a lot more to work with than he normally would.

Finishing off with a change to its fur colour, making it a pure black, he locked in the changes.

Ding!

Adaptation has become permanent. Unique creature created.

Type: Modified male giant rat. Level: 21

Do you wish to name this creature?

He’d done it! He’d made a new creature, all on his own. He wasn’t sure if the better choices increased his chances or whether he’d just gotten lucky, but right now he was too happy to question it.

“The creatures name is Snuffles.” He said proudly, not minding if anyone else would think it weird.

Name accepted, Snuffles the Pit rat has been created.

It will receive additional stat points as a unique monster.

This creature is now able to respawn, and will drop items proportional to its level.

Do you wish to be identified as its creator? This cannot be changed afterwards.

Right, there was this question. He’d thought about it since he saw it mentioned, about what would be the better choice. On the one hand it would be awesome to be known as the creator of monsters, but in the end, the last thing he wanted was people looking for him or information about him.

“No, leave it as anonymous.”

Creator will remain unknown. Now applying changes to creature.

A pale green glow appeared around Snuffles for a moment, waking him from his rest. Shaking himself as he got up, Jicker got a proper look at just how big he’d become and realised he, and it was a male, he now realised, wouldn’t be able to fit through his tunnels anymore. Towering above him, the rat looked around as if seeing its surroundings for the first time. Focusing on Jicker, he could see there was intelligence in the rat’s eyes that hadn’t been there before. He got up to go and have a better look at his work, when another system message came through.

You have unlocked the Evolution Statistic.

Do wish to accept?

Each point of Evolution increases the capacity for adaptation, unlocks additional options and adds Bonus stats equal to your level of the stat, as well as reducing the cost of abilities targeting these creatures.

For each point of Evolution you will earn 0.1% of the experience earned by unique creatures you create and chance of permanency will be increased by 1%.

Synergy - Handle animal effects will be increased by 10% per point on created creatures.

Warning: Once a statistic is selected it cannot be removed. You have 5 Stat slots remaining.

Jicker paused, unsure of what to do. The other person hadn’t mentioned anything about this, but if it had been three years since they started, they’d probably filled all their slots by then. It would use up a precious slot, but it would be a substantial bonus for what looked like could be his main trick to shake up the world. The experience part though, didn’t seem that useful. Snuffles would need to kill a thousand cockroaches for him to earn the experience from killing one. But on the other hand, he would eventually kill that many and combined with any other creations he made, plus if he could increase the stat somehow...It would build up pretty quickly.

“I Accept” he told the AI, seeing the statistic entered into his character sheet, and triggering a second wave of glowing on Snuffles as he received its enhancement. Blinking, the rat moved around him, picking up one of the caught roaches and swallowing it whole.

“Well, aren’t you the impressive one.” Jicker said to him admiringly. Despite the physical changes, Snuffles maintained the same attitude it had always had, going back to sleep now that it had eaten something.

Checking the time, he saw that it was still only midday. Not wanting to risk going outside while people were still fighting over supplies, and not feeling sleeping through the day, he signed out.

~~~~~~

Removing the mask, he went through his normal routine of food and a shower to clear his head. Seeing he was low on a few things he went down to the supermarket, figuring he could sort out his leaving papers while he was there. Steve spotted him immediately, offering him a drink and getting his forms, before having to duck away to sort out one problem or another. While he was always in a rush, Matt had never known Steve to be anything but happy with his work, and hoped that one day he could find a job that brought him that level of contentment.

Getting home, he went to check his phone for the time but realised he’d forgotten to charge before he’d started playing yesterday, letting it run flat. Plugging it in he was greeted with four missed calls and two dozen messages from Sarah, all asking where he was. He was about to reply when his phone rang, the caller ID showing that it was her fifth call of the day.

“Sarah, hi, sorry I missed-“he began as he answered the phone.

“Where the hell have you been? I've been trying to reach you for the past hour, and don’t say you were in game because I can see on my screen that you weren’t.” She shouted back, cutting him off.

“I- wait, you’re watching when I play? Isn’t that a bit stalker-ish?” He asked.

“It’s my job Matt.” She sighed. “At this point in time, tracking you is part of my job. Anyway, Mr. Fronz wanted to speak to you as soon as you next got out, hence my calls. Now hold on a second while I try to put you through.”

“But I don’t want to...” He said before giving up, already hearing the sounds of hold music.

His mind was beginning to go numb after listening to some tweeny pop music for ten minutes, but eventually it cut out replaced by the voice of August.

“Ah Mr. Harper, it’s so good of you to find the time to speak to me.” He said in a calm tone of voice.

“Sorry, my phone wasn’t charged and I forgot to plug it in.” Matt said cautiously.

“I knew there’d be a reason. You didn’t seem the type to reject a person’s calls, certainly not important ones. And while I was slightly annoyed from having to wait for this call, not something I deal with often I assure you, I'm calling with good news.

“I'm not sure what you mean.” He said, hoping they hadn’t found a way to tack on more to the contract he was in.

“Its’ your new Monster, of course! When I heard you’d been dropped into that hole in the ground I admit I was concerned we wouldn’t get much out of you, yet here we are. Playing less than a week and already creating a new enemy for the area, a feat that has only been achieved... three times since the games launch. An impressive feat indeed, though I'm not sure I understand the choice of name, but overall, I’m very pleased with your progress so far, and look forward to seeing you continue.”

“And the rest of the board members? What’s their opinion?” he asked.

August chuckled darkly. “Hmm, I’ll let you in on a little secret, something most people don’t seem to realise. I own over sixty percent of Masquerade Entertainment, since I never wanted to lose control since I started this company. I can assure that they don’t matter in any real sense; I am the one that owns you. Understood?”

“Crystal.” Matt replied bitterly.

“Good. In that case, keep up the good work Mr. Harper.” And with that he hung up without another word.

It was a good thing Matt hadn’t gotten used to having plenty of money around; otherwise his phone would have found itself buried in the drywall. As it was it took all of his self control to not throw it across the room. All the joy he’d gotten from his accomplishments had been stripped away in seconds by a single phone call.

Needing to zone out for a while, he grabbed the carton of beer he’d picked up at the store and turned on the stereo. As the sounds of metal washed over him, he lay back and tried to get the thought of the smug suit wearing bastard out of his head.

And after drinking a dozen cans, he didn’t think much about anything.

An incessant buzzing, which turned out to be his phone, woke him from his bed, which turned out to be the floor. Rolling over, he felt around and eventually found it buried under what appeared to be his pants.

“Hello?” He mumbled out, his head feeling like it was going to split open.

“Matt? Hi, it’s Sarah and, wow you sound terrible. You ok?”

“Just trying the old experiment of drinking my problems away.” He replied, staggering to his feet.

“Been there, definitely been there.” She said sadly. “Anyway, I’ll make this quick, but I just wanted to apologise for yelling at you yesterday. It wasn’t really your fault that I couldn’t get a hold of you, so I shouldn’t have been angry with you.”

“I'm, a little hung over right now, but I don’t really remember you yelling at me. Are you sure it was me?” He asked. There was a moment of silence.

“Have you...Listened to the voicemails I left you yesterday?” she said awkwardly.

“No, I pretty much just attacked my liver as soon as I got off the phone with your boss. Should I?”

“No! Just, um, delete them. It’s not really important anyway since I got through to you in the end, right?”

Matt chuckled, then wished he hadn’t as a new wave of pain went through his head. “Okay, I’ll believe you. Anyway isn’t that a little emotional to be getting for just a phone call?”

“Are you kidding? Mr. Fronz decided that you need to be monitored, and said that if I failed in that, or you didn’t achieve his goals, then he’d ensure I’d be blacklisted to every game company he could contact. Which, considering who he is, is all of them.” She said bitterly.

It was Matts turn to pause. “Isn’t that...wrong? How can he hold you responsible for my actions?”

“Like I’ve mentioned before, I'm required to give you any assistance I can, as long as it’s within the rules of the game. Otherwise, it’s back of the unemployment line for me.”

“That sucks, but it could always be worse.” Matt said sympathetically.

“You’re right, obviously. I know it’s not my life on the line here, but it’s still my future. I’ve never wanted to do anything else since I was a little girl.”

“Then...ugh, I need to go back to bed. We’ll just need to ensure we pull this off. So what help can you give me anyway?” he said, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

“Not a lot, if I'm honest here. There are pretty strict laws about people who work on the game playing it, insider information and all that. So I'm fairly limited to just collecting information that’s been released to, or written by, the public.” She said, sounding apologetic.

“Well, its more help than I had before. Hmmm, feel like getting started?” he asked, an idea slowly forming in his misfiring brain.

“Sure, it’ll give me something to put in my report, what do you need?”

“See what you can find on creature creation, as well as things on biology, ecology, that sort of stuff. Basically anything that can help me understand how monsters work in the game, like skills and things. You following me?” he asked.

“Yeah, ok I can do this.” She replied, the sounds of a keyboard hammering away in the background. “It might take me a few days to get things together though.”

“No problem, just get it to me when you can.”

“Done, and for your side, go drink some water and eat some food. Seriously, you sound terrible.”

“Ha, yes ma’am.”

“Take care of yourself Matt, bye.” She said, ending the call.

Taking her advice, he went and got himself some breakfast, managing to hold down some dry toast long enough to get into the shower. Getting rid of the smell of booze that had soaked into him, he began to feel like a person again.

“Right then, time to get back to work I guess.” He said to himself, and went looking for where he’d put his mask.

~~~~~~

When he logged back in, Snuffles had already headed out, carving an even larger tunnel through the side of the boat, wide enough that Jicker could walk along it without even having to bend over. Deciding to do just that, he went exploring, wanting to see where the rat’s normal hunting grounds were, and where his new back door led.

Running his hand along the wall to keep track of where he was, he wandered through the darkness, wondering where he’d end up. After several minutes he saw a glimmer of light, finally having reached the end, and exited the tunnels. A small cavern, slightly larger than his ship, had been broken open, one of the walls seeming to have collapsed when some of the debris outside had shifted.

Apparently, some Pit dwellers had decided to make it their home recently, with several box’s of old clothes and various objects littering the ground. But he had a feeling that was no longer the case when he saw a severed arm lying at the edge of the chamber. Stepping out, still unsure of his exact location, he was greeted by a scene of chaos. Bodies littered the ground in various states, some armed, some not. He was trying to understand what he was seeing when a voice called out behind him.

“Runt, Get out of there, the beast is still around!”

Turning around, he saw an orc armed with a long harpoon crouched on top of the cavern he’d come from. The orc seemed to be scanning the surroundings nervously, not looking at him at all.

“What beast?” He asked up to the orc, drawing his blowgun.

“Dunno, no one ever got a clear look at it, not for long anyway. I’d get to higher ground if I was you.” the orc replied, shifting his grip.

“If there’s some big monster here, why didn’t you leave?” Jicker asked as he climbed up the side an old cart, scanning the area but not sure what he was looking for.

“My group only moved in here a few weeks ago, cleared out the rats nest and everything. All our stuff was in there and it was fine. But then some time yesterday this...thing has been picking everyone off in the area. I think that....Oh god, I think I'm the only one of us left. Where’d you come from anyway? I didn’t see you approach.”

“I came through the tunnel underneath this place.”

The orc turned to him. “What tunnel? What are you talking- Oh no.” The orc stopped suddenly, going pale as it looked past him. Jicker turned to see what he was looking at as a shadow flew over him, ending in a wet, crunching sound. Twisting back around, he saw Snuffles, with his jaws currently wrapped around what had been the orc’s head.

“Hey Snuffles, I guess that explains things doesn’t it?” He said, putting his pipe away. “They drove you out of this place, so you came back to return the favour huh? Well I’d say you’ve succeeded.”

Snuffles gave a happy wag of its tail in way of a response, carving lines in the debris as the spike whipped around.

“We’ll I'm going to have a look around and see what I can find, but then we might need to cover up that tunnel. Don’t want any one sneaking in now do we.” He said, patting the rat. Snuffles then gave a snort and began to walk off, not interested in this place anymore. No one else seemed to be approaching the area, perhaps not wanting to cross paths with “the beast”, so Jicker had time to search the area, as well as most of the bodies.

Most of what he saw was the same as his, cobbled together weapons, rags for clothing and the occasional piece of food that was still almost good. There were a few finds though that really stood out. One orc had managed to get a hold of a cloak that was in good condition, or it had been until Snuffles had torn through, and his legs as well. The damage was all on the lower part however, and since the orc had been more than twice as tall as him, it would serve him well, the dark grey cloth much thicker and finer than the rags he wore now. He also found several more jars and tins, either empty or holding water. His greatest prize however, was a pack. It was a smaller one, and not very well made, but it meant he could actually carry all of his equipment properly, and not need to drag a hessian sack everywhere when he wanted water.

Climbing to the top of the cavern where the orc had died, he began to jump around, trying to loosen up the garbage and bury the tunnel entrance. He had shaken down a good amount and was going to try and lever some more free when a shout caught his attention.

“Gremlin!”

He whipped around, trying to find out who’d spotted him as he drew his pipe. Unable to see anyone, he wondered if he’d imagined it.

“Gremlin, get up here!”

Looking up, he saw who was calling out. Standing at the lip of the Pit, was the orc who had gotten out, staring down at him. They hadn’t been out for long, but it showed just how different the conditions were. Gone were the rags and gaunt expression, now the orc was wearing high quality armour, looking in their prime.

Warily, Jicker began to climb up and see what the orc wanted. He knew it could be a trap, but he couldn’t see a reason why someone outside would bother messing with a Pit dweller. He approached the orc, and stopped a dozen feet before the edge. The orc glared at him for a few moments before speaking.

“This was you.” The orc held out one of the darts he’d hit him with, no hint of question in his tone.

“Yes, it was.” He replied cautiously, not seeing a point in hiding it. The orc grunted and through the dart to him.

“Why? Why help me fight? You gained nothing from it.” The orc asked, frustrated.

“I just...” Jicker paused to get his thoughts in order. Why had he done it? “I needed to know that it was possible to get out. I had to see it for myself.” He said, hoping the orc would understand. For a moment the orc just looked at him, before slowly nodding.

“It has been... a long time since one has left the Pit, it’s true, so I suppose I can see why you had doubts. I can only remember two others getting out since I was tricked into here three years ago.

“You survived this place for three years?!” He asked incredulously.

The orc laughed at his reaction. “Amazing is it not? But in truth I did not survive all this time. No, I am one of those known as a strong soul, blessed or cursed to return upon my death. Over a hundred time I fell and was returned to the Pit, and not a day went by I did not curse the one who put me in there.” The orc went silent, staring hatefully at something only found in his memories.

“You were beaten by someone from the Pit? I kind of doubt that.” Jicker said, hoping he didn’t offend the orc.

“You would be right. Before I fell, I was Morthoc, warden of the Pit! None could best me in combat, and none dared oppose me!” Morthoc grinned, remembering better times, but the expression didn’t last. “But then Grolug, may the gods take him, betrayed me. Even though he is a strong soul himself, he had been jealous of my status and strength, but he knew that even if he defeated me, I would rise again and take my vengeance. Instead he had one from the Pit challenge me, and in my arrogance, I accepted.

As I toyed with them, Grolug somehow struck me from behind, leaving me crippled, and allowing the Pit dweller to best me. When I returned, I had become bound to the Pit, and Grolug had taken my role as warden. He ensured that none would approach or fight me for two years, ensuring I could not escape. At first it was simple, I was far more powerful than any other down there, but two years of no real food, sleep or rest weakened me to the point you saw, until I could no longer fight my way out, not against the advantages those outside possess.”

“Bah!” he said suddenly. “This gets me nowhere. I did not call for you to tell you old tales. No, while I do not care for it, I am...indebted to you, for your aid. Since I wish to be free of this debt, what do you seek?”

“I don’t suppose you’d take my place?” Jicker asked jokingly, then instantly regretted it as Morthoc face went black.

“I owe you a great deal it is true,” he began in a low voice, “But there is no power on this world that would have me willing enter that place again, and I would destroy you should you try.”

Jicker raised his hands in apology. “A poorly chosen joke, you have my apologies. I wouldn’t wish this place on anyone. Well, almost anyone.” He said, thinking of the CEO that was the reason he was in this mess.

Morthoc relaxed. “I know how you feel. If I could find a way to get Grolug to be trapped down there...Hmm, if you could ever find a way to best him, I would reward you greatly, not the least of which would be your freedom.”

Ding!

Quest: Defeat the traitorous warden.

Morthoc has asked your aid in banishing Grolug to the Pit in vengeance.

Success: Defeat Grolug in combat

Reward: 2000xp and Morthoc’s favour

Failure: N/A

“I would gladly help cast him down Morthoc, but in my current state...” Jicker said gesturing to the rags he was wearing.

“Indeed, you would be no match for him now it is true. Dreams for another day I suppose. Regardless, I must clear my debt with you...” Morthoc paused.

“My name is Jicker” he said helpfully. “And if you don’t mind me asking, you don’t exactly sound like the others I've heard around here.”

“...Jicker.” He said nodding, “In the past I spent a few years playing diplomat for the cavern, I suppose some of that stuck with me. So, what do you seek? If it is in my power I will do what I can to get it for you to balance things.”

Jicker thought about it. There were plenty of things he could do with, but what did he really need?

“I need... a way of storing medicines and poisons, if you can find one.”

“That’s all?” Morthoc said, raising an eyebrow. “Very well, though there are few who practice such crafts within this cavern, I will seek out an answer for you, and give it to you when I can. Of this, I give you my word. Now I must go. It is seen as weakness talking to those of the Pit.”

He gave a small wave as he walked away. “Should you manage to get out however,” he said, calling over his shoulder “I will be happy to buy you a drink.”

Returning back to his home, he considering trying to board up this end of the tunnel, but realised it would be knocked down the next time Snuffles came in. Getting to work, he pulled the cloak from his pack and carefully cut off the unheeded length before some of its loose thread and a large splinter of wood to sew the rest into a rough tunic. The result was...

Grey hobo’s garb

2 defence

This poorly made clothing was once quality fabric

Special: +5 cold resist

Fortunately he wasn’t planning to become a tailor; otherwise he’d have a problem. Otherwise his new clothing was fine, a massive improvement over his old rags, both in stats and in comfort. He started to go through the jars and containers he’d picked up, and realised he now had had far more than he needed. Filling up one of the larger cans with water, he put it over the fire to boil, hoping to drink water that he could see through. Once then he’d have something better to drink at least, though he was still stuck eating roaches since there was nothing else around.

As Snuffles came in and curled up by the fire however, an idea started to form and, taking his blowgun, he went out to hunt.