According to his status, he still had the better part of two days before he could try and put his plan into action. Fortunately, there was no trouble in finding something to do to kill time, since the road always needed to move forwards. Spending his time producing batch after batch of poison wasn’t the most exciting thing he’d ever done, but it kept him occupied and managed to raise his apothecary skill, bringing it up to five. It wasn’t the most exciting time he’d ever had but it went quickly enough, and gave him time to think.
Once the days had passed he began part two of his plan, namely annoying the crap out of a Woodsman by the name of Tidus. While he looked like a warrior elf, he acted more like a middle manager, the kind that would take every bit of credit they could find while avoiding responsibility like the plague. It was a sad truth of the world, but every organization that got big enough tended to end up with a few people like this, but right now it was something that played into Jicker’s favour.
For Tidus to claim any of the progress as his own achievements, he first had to at least participate to give himself something to stand on, and since he didn’t want to actually do anything, that amounted to shouting orders at all the conscripts.
“Chop faster!”
“Move those logs!”
“Clear that ground!”
And after giving a couple of orders he’d retire to his tent for the rest of the day, having technically led the conscripts in their work. At least that’s how it had always gone before now.
“Where do you want them moved to? And which trees should we cut down?” Jicker asked innocently.
“It doesn't matter, just...get rid of it.”Tidus said through gritted teeth, red in the face.
The problem with claiming all of the work as his own meant that not only did he get the success, but any failures would also be left at his door as well. And since the punishment for failure could be execution or worse, he couldn’t risk not answering any questions about orders he was asked.
It didn't matter how inane or useless the question was, he had hear it out just in case it was something that mattered. If he didn't, it could end up coming back to bite him, they both knew that Jicker would ensure that it did. Over the course of the first day of putting his plan into action, Tidus had gone from confident, to annoyed and the on to frustrated, and since on the second day some of the other conscripts had caught onto his game, it was only getting worse.
“Is my axe sharp enough?”
“Should I go from the right or the left?”
“What’s the time?”
The last one had proved a crowd favourite, and a few people had put down bets that it would be the one to break him. Until Salt, who seemed to take far too much joy in messing with the poor man, raised the bar.
“How long has it been since the last time I asked you a question?”
That one seemingly simple question was the straw that broke the camel’s back, sending him running to the other side of the camp. After that incident, Tidus did everything in his power to keep away from the rest of them. He’d come out every now and then to do his job, but would rapidly retreat afterwards as he was harassed with questions, forced to either leave or be stuck checking the clock every minute.
Once waiting for Tidus to come to him had no longer become an option, Jicker went on the offensive and started seeking him out at all hours, asking whatever he could think of at the time. It after the third time he’d awoken him up in the middle of the night that Jicker finally got the result he was looking for.
“You know what?” Tidus snapped as he threw open his tent. “I don't care, do what you want! Just leave me alone!”
He chuckled. “Now that you’ve written a blank cheque like that? I think I will.” And before the woodsmen could question him or give any other orders, he triggered his Rageform.
Getting around orders could be a tricky business, especially when the game system helped to reinforce them. But in the end it was a computer, and followed a fairly logical train of thought, in this case that commands in front are higher priority than ones that come after. A smarter person would have closed off these gaps with a few more specific commands, but this sort of thing could happen when you start handing off that job as well. As it was, he wasn’t supposed to use any abilities to try and get free, but now he had do what he wanted, and what he wanted right now was to leave.
The change this time was no less painful, but since he knew it was coming he was able to brace himself as his body began to tear itself apart to make room for the extra muscle and features.
As his bones creaked and snapped during the process, he was dimly aware of Tidus shouting at him while backing away, probably ordering him to stop or seeking help, but it was already too late. If he could still speak he might have tried to warn him to run, but he was too busy focusing on what he need the Rageform to do, namely escape with all his belongings. Right now he wasn’t even close to a person, and he could feel the collar lose its hold him, becoming normal metal that quickly snapped as his neck swelled to several times its normal size. By the time the transformation had completed, less than half a minute had gone by, yet already several Woodsmen had been alerted and come to surround him as well as a few conscripts who’d been ordered to assist.
Normally, the fight would have been extremely one-sided, since he was both out manned and out levelled. But seeing that it was the middle of the night, and that conscripts shouldn’t have been able to fight at all, they were caught completely unprepared. The conscripts were somewhat more organised but they were hardly giving it their all to protect their captors. He also had the advantage of not caring about damaging his surroundings, letting his Rageform get some distance by bull rushing its way through the tent behind him.
As his body was left to its own devices, Jicker was left to think about his next move. Whether he’d manage to escape from this situation was still up in the air, but whether he survived or not, he was still free of the collar and could move on with his own plans. Opening up his menu to make a few notes, he saw that he’d received a notification.
You have unlocked the Inner Rage Statistic.
Do wish to accept?
Each point of Inner Rage increases and refines your Rageform abilities based on user’s intelligence and wisdom, also reducing its cooldown and chance of permanency. Also provides an amount of influence over the Rageform’s actions based on the level of Inner Rage.
Warning: Once a statistic is selected it cannot be removed. You have 3 Stat slots remaining.
Once again he’d come across another statistic he’d never heard of, though he wasn’t surprised that this one had slipped his notice. His Rageform, while a potent ability, was only a lesser variation of something it seemed he pick up at a higher level, and not something he should have access to at his current state. Which meant that for a player to come across this stat, they’d need to reach a higher level of a class people couldn’t easily access, with the help of trainers no one could find, all while keeping a slot free for something no one knew about. In short, it was unlikely to happen, and left wondering again just how powerful a gremlin’s ability was if they could get around the system like this.
It was a harder choice than he’d had before, but he had to admit that while it was rough picking up a statistic that would only affect a single ability, it was one that so far was proving extremely potent. If he could work on it, he thought as he saw himself rushing through the camp, his Rageform could become a real trump card further down the line. With that in mind he accepted the ability, feeling the effects wash over him, even visibly changing his appearance to a small degree. His skin had previously been a chaotic mass of scar tissue and skin, but now it had began to balance itself, becoming a somewhat more uniform layer of hide. His body still had far more muscle that it should be able to sustain, but it had lost a small portion while becoming leaner, heading away from the shape of a bodybuilder and towards that of a fighter. He also had a suspicion he’d a grown another inch or two, but while he raced through the campsite he couldn’t really tell.
Putting aside thoughts of his own appearance, he watched as his body rushed around the campsite, knocking over tents and anyone who in front of it who wasn't paying attention. It seemed to run aimlessly, but after a few moments he realised it was searching for something. He’d wanted to get his things and leave, but apparently the Rageform wasn’t the smartest of creatures, and couldn’t remember where he’d left his pack. Unable to find his belongings, it was left confused and began to lash out; tearing tent posts out of the ground and launching them like spears at anyone unfortunate enough to be within sight. Jicker sighed from his mental seat, watching as it ran amok in frustration, wishing his body didn’t remind him quite as much as a chicken with its head cut off.
His new stat was supposed to give him some control right? He thought to himself as he watched. So how was he supposed to do that exactly? After spending a minute straining his brain trying not move a leg he wasn’t connected to, he gave up on that approach. Looking through the Rageform’s eyes, he could see that the woodsmen were slowly beginning to put themselves together, getting over the shock of a monster appearing in the middle of their camp. Already orders were being given and weapons were distributed amongst soldiers, though curiously their words, while easily within hearing range were garbled and distorted into something unintelligible. If he couldn’t get his body to leave the area, with or without his supplies, he’d be killed and sent to respawn, defeating the whole point of escape.
“Come on you bastard, its right there!” he mentally screamed in frustration as they went past his tent yet again. But unlike every other time, it didn’t keep stomping through the camp but instead paused, tilting its head as if it had heard something.
“Can you...I...It? Hear me?” he said, looking for a reaction. The Rageform scratched at his ear curiously before beginning to move away again.
“No! The stuff is in the tent, go back and get it!” he said, trying to mentally point towards where his pack should be.
Again it paused, but this time it turned in the direction he’d ‘pointed’ and moved towards it, tearing apart the canvas tent with ease to look inside. Sure enough, his pack sat neatly at the end of the cot he’d been using, packed and ready to go for the moment he could get free. With somewhat more precision than it had shown so far, it carefully picked up his small pack in one hand before tearing the rest of the tent apart and hurling at an approaching Woodsman.
Apparently this one wasn’t as easily surprised as the others, blocking to mass of cracked timber with a shield before thrusting a spear towards they’re midsection. Hopping backwards, the Rageform avoiding the blow but didn’t retreat, standing its ground and growling menacingly at the challenger.
“No, don't fight, we need to leave!” Jicker shouted, trying to get them dumb beast to escape. He’d caught them by surprise with the transformation, and they’d only had light defences ready in case someone else stumbled into their campsite. But this was no longer the case, and most of the camp was now awake and arming themselves to ensure he was dealt with. There was still a good chance to get away if he left now, the nature of the Blightwoods making difficult to pursue anyone effectively.
But every second he was still there that chance became slimmer, and soon it would vanish all together. That all seemed irrelevant to the Rageform however, which seemed more than happy to stick around and duke it out with its new opponent. While he could influence its actions, Jicker realised, he couldn’t control it, not to any real degree. Like a car that had lost its breaks, he might be able to steer it around a few things, but he sure as hell couldn’t stop it. The only hope he had was that it would either give up and flee the area, or manage to beat the fighter in front of it.
Whoever this person was seemed to be in charge or close to it, as they began to shout out orders to the people surrounding them. The conscripts nearby were moved away, being placed under guard by a few Woodsmen, probably in case they managed to pull off something similar to what he’d done.
Twirling his spear in his hand, the fighter threw out a rapid series of jabs, more trying to get a sense of the Rageform’s behaviour than trying to put out any real damage. For all its flaws, slow reflexes wasn’t one of them, as it deftly avoided the strikes before swinging a heavy blow back in return, forcing them back. Happier to be on the offensive, it pressed forward, lashing out with a series of wide sweeping attacks, taking more ground as it tried to force its way past the fighters shield. From his place as an onlooker rather than a combatant, Jicker noticed that the warrior seemed happy enough to give up the ground, almost like he was letting him move in closer... As that thought sunk in, Jicker shouted to the Rage form trying to get its attention.
“It’s a trap! They’re trying to surround us!” he cried, causing its head to spin around and look the other way. Sure enough, several other fighters had been carefully moving around to pin them in, trying to cut off their way out. Snarling, it threw itself back towards them, ignoring the damage they inflicted and drove one of them to the ground, trying it’s best to bite their throat out. Gagging, Jicker tried to ignore the taste of blood that filled his mouth as he watched the Rageform’s actions, trying to distract himself from seeing swallow what used to be a piece of the enemies flesh. In the corner of his vision he saw a piece cloth flapping around, swinging as his head twisted and turned. His shirt hadn’t come free this time, and had been heavily damaged but was attached, which his pockets were still there as well.
“The vial on your right side,” he said, trying to nudge it towards the pocket in question. “Smash that and escape.”
In between bites of its victim, it growled but seemed to decide it had had enough being stabbed and cut by people while it was trying to eat. Flexing one arm, it pushed back a dwarf that was doing their best to cut off its head and struck itself in the chest shattering the vial that was hanging in the pocket. Almost instantly a cloud of gas began to seep out and fill the area, blinding everyone around them, giving them time to pick up what was left of the Rageform’s prey and escape. Leaping over the panicking Woodsmen, they made their way to the edge of the camp as quickly as they could before the gas dissipated, and began to sprint through the trees. As they ran, Jicker decided to leave his body to its own devices for a while, logging off for a short break.
~~~~~~
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
As Matt removed his headset, he set himself an alarm to make sure he’d back in time, not wanting to leave his character sitting aimlessly in the middle of nowhere. Making a quick bite to eat, he poured himself a drink and went to sit down at the table, studying a blank piece of paper. As he ate, he jotted out a few notes, trying to formulate a plan of attack of what to do next.
* Escape from the woods and reach civilization.
* ???
* Profit.
He let his head sink, thumping onto the table. Why couldn’t things be simpler? Sure, just reacting to things was no way to move forward but at least he knew what to do. But now, with every avenue of approach open to him, he had no idea of what to do next. The only thing he knew he wanted to do was to track down a teacher for his class but everything else was still up in the air. Rolling his head stared blankly at the note he’d made. Profit was key, he realised, sitting back up. He was in this mess because people with more money, and therefore more power, than him started pulling on his strings, forcing him to do things or reveal him to other people with money. That what it all boiled down to in the end, what all of his problems came down to. Everyone who he’d spoken to about the upheaval that’d played the game for nothing but fun didn’t have any real problem with what had happened, apart from some annoyance at being killed. The only ones who were seriously angry were the ones trying to make money off of it.
If he could get some decent money behind him, stabilize his position some more, then he might be able to get clear of some of the people who’d come after him. It was, after all, harder to make someone disappear if they left a big enough footprint. Even if it was nothing more than being able to pay off any hired guns that came after him.
Rubbing his face, he wondered at how rapidly his life had entered a tailspin, making him try to come up with actual ideas of how to deal with people trying to kill him. Then there was the mystery person who’d managed to create enough leverage to pull august of his back, though what they were getting out of it he had no idea.
But all of that was a problem for later, he decided as he cleared his plate. Right now he had to get back in to Genesis and see what he’d been up to.
~~~~~~
Logging back in, he saw he still had a few minutes before he regained control of his body, and spent them going over his current status.
Name:
Jicker
Level:
43
Race:
Gremlin
Class:
Dark Chemist
Hp:
580
Mp:
760
Stamina:
170
Statistics
Equipped weapons
Damage:
Equipped Armour
Defence:
White Pipe of Striking
22-34
--
0
Long serrated Scalpel
11-43
Core Statistics
Other Statistics
Strength:
16
Enigma:
4
Dexterity:
73
Evolution:
6
Constitution:
16
Inner Rage:
1
Intelligence:
135
Wisdom:
34
Resistances:
Poison:
50%
Cold:
5
Shock:
5
Disease:
50%
Fire:
5
Skills
Mother of Invention - Level 2
Apothecary - Level 5
Handle Animal - Level 6
Anatomy - Level 1
Herbalism - Level 3
Weapon Skill - Blowgun - Level 2
Stealth - Level 1
Weapon Skill - Small Blades - Level 1
Achievements
Grand Genocide
Kill over 20 million sentients within 1 hour
Unique-Effect:
30% damage and ability effectiveness against sentients
Force of Change
Destroy and create over 1000 dungeons
Unique-Effect:
Creating or altering areas or creatures will be 100% more effective
World Shaper
Permanently alter the geography of the world on a grand scale
Level-Max-Effect:
Effect: Permanent effects will be 100% more effective
King Killer
Kill 50 leaders of states, royal or other.
Level-Max-Effect:
Boss and Leader resistances reduced by 60%
He’d been growing steadily of late, with the siege of Ardenvale giving him a bit of a boost, but he still had a long way to go. It also let him know that whatever information his body was currently running on, it had nothing to do with his stats, since they apparently hadn’t changed at all, despite the fact he was currently sprinting along faster than a gremlin could possibly move.
By the time the Rageform had expired, he’d put a good amount of distance between himself and the Woodsmen’s campsite, but not as much as he’d have liked. The Blightwoods themselves were slowing him down, forcing him to manoeuvre around the trees or risk getting trapped and digested. There had been a few close calls as he’d attempted to leap through the treetops, only to have his feet catch in the sap, leading to him desperately claw at it as more sap crept towards him. He’d gotten free and continued to escape, but now that his ability had expired, he had no doubt they’d catch up to him. Not only did they know these woods far better than he did, but a number of them certainly had the necessary skills for hunting him down no matter where he hid around here.
But they had to move slowly through here as well, which gave him sometime before they closed in on him. So if he could leave something behind to slow them down, maybe stop them all together…
Taking stock, he looked at what he had to work with. His pack had managed to come through unscathed, which was good since he didn't know what he’d do if it had torn and dropped all his belongings through the woods. His clothing hadn’t fared as well, and was now just some loose rags that hadn’t quite fallen off yet. But he still had his weapons in his pack, meaning he could get to work.
Drawing his blade, he carefully carved off a piece of fungus to work with. He’d have preferred to have an animal to work with while he was under pressure, but beggars can't be choosers, and activated adaptation.
It was strange trying to make an animal out of a plant, even if fungus sat somewhere in the middle. It lacked any bones, organs or any real points to build around, its structure being pretty much the same the whole way through. He had no idea how to build something that could be considered threatening out of something that the average person could effectively lean through. But plants and fungus were capable of hurting people, many even considered dangerous in the real world. So how did they normally do it, and how could he apply those methods here?
Slowly he began to shape an idea, refining it as he went, until eventually he had something that should hopefully stop any sort of pursuit.
~~~~~~
“Keep looking! The tracks went this way, and something that size doesn’t just vanish!” Tidus shouted as he stepped over an exposed root, waiting for his forward scouts to return. Tired, stressed and angry, he hadn’t been having a very good night. First he’d pestered constantly by a bunch of lousy conscripts, who wanted nothing more than to annoy him, and then this happened. That new weird one goes ahead and turns into a freaking monster, and of course he gets the blame, he grumbled to himself. How was he supposed to know it could do that? Weren’t the collars supposed to stop that sort of thing happening in the first place? Then Larry got...eaten, which meant it became his job to lead a bunch of people to hunt the damn thing down. If it were up to him he probably would have just let the damn thing go, but apparently the people upstairs didn’t like the idea of anyone messing with their stuff, and wanted to keep their operation quiet.
And because of that he’d spent the past six hours trudging through the dark, trying to avoid tripping over and getting killed by these damned woods. At least, he thought on a positive note, when they saw that it was his team that had caught the damn thing it should make up for losing it in the first place, and maybe get him a promotion in the Woodsmen ranks. Buoyed by the idea of possible rewards, he picked up his pace and marched determinedly onwards
He couldn’t say what he noticed first, whether it was the sound, the smell or just feeling that something was wrong, but whatever it was it made him spin in place. By the light of the torch in his hand he saw one of the scouts he’d sent out, or at least what used to be one. Covering most of their face and coming out of several open wounds were thin grey mushrooms, turned red by the blood still sticking to them. Tidus couldn’t remember what the man’s name had been in life, but now the game was calling him a level thirty six Fungal Zombie.
He was sure he could defeat it, being a far higher level, and obviously a superior warrior to any walking corpse. But on looking at the animated remains of one of his guild mates, he made the executive decision to flee back to camp, since clearly this new information was more important than him defeating a single enemy. In his haste to return to camp however, he failed to notice the slight difference in the grounds appearance, too busy trying to stay away from the approaching monster. As he stepped on what should have been solid ground, he found his foot breaking through a thin crust of leaves, dirt and dried sap that had been formed to cover the pit.
Falling, he landed in soft liquid that frightened him more than if it had been a pit of spikes, since his torch had landed in such a way that it had stayed lit. The bottom of the pit had been filled with a foot of the Blightwoods sap, and already it had begun to harden around his body, locking him in place. His head had luckily stayed above the sap, otherwise he’d already be suffocating, but that left him little to do other look up to see where the zombie would approach from. Instead of the zombie however, he saw something that looked like it should be in a children’s show rather than in a place like this. Standing only a foot tall, a small humanoid figure stood looking down at him, its shape round and bulbous. Its stubby arms and legs ended in little more than wiggling nubs rather than actual appendages, working awkwardly to climb down to the bottom of the pit. As it came closer to the torch, he could see that it had the same reddish colourings as the forest around them, with the exception of a large mushroom-like hat that sat atop its head. Under it hat was an extremely simple face, two holes for eyes and a larger break for a mouth, all lit from within by a dim purple glow. Reaching the bottom of the pit it wobbled about but somehow managed to stay standing, walking along the surface of the still liquid sap towards him. Tidus would have yelled at it to drive it off, but was concerned about attracting the zombie’s attention in his condition. He wasn’t too concerned by it however, since the apparently the ‘Greycap’ was only level three, and could be defeated with a light tap.
But, he realised, he couldn’t even do that, and was currently at the mercy of the little pest. As it reached him, he tried to head butt it, swinging as closely as he could, but only succeeded in splashing some more sap on himself. Waiting until he’d worn himself out, the Greycap approached closer, going as far as to start prodding him with a small shovel-like stick it was holding. Nodding to itself, it moved closer and grabbed him, leaning closer as it put a hand on either side of his head.
“Leave me alone! What are you trying to-” he began as it filled his field of view, but before he could say anymore the Greycap’s mouth transformed in to perfect circle and a fine stream of grey smoke slowly poured out over his face. He tried to hold his breath and keep away from it but he was in no position to escape, and the monster seemed to be willing to wait him out. After a minute his lungs gave out on him, forcing him to take a choking breath of the smoke.
Warning! You have been infected with Greycap spores!
You will receive -20% to strength, dexterity and constitution for the next three hours.
If you die while under this effect you will be raised as a Fungal Zombie loyal to the Greycap.
This is what happened to the other guy, he realised as he coughed trying to clear his throat. One of these things must have gotten to him, and then he’d been killed. He tried in vain to pull his arms free as the Greycap hopped back down, but the sap held firm, being far stronger than he was. Looking on hopelessly in horror, Tidus watched as it filled its shovel with liquid sap and began to pour it on top of him.