How to Steal from a Fantasy Deathworld - Chapter 4 (Patreon)

Debuffs:

• Chronic Cervicalgia - Pinched nerve within the spine. Causes pain on movement. Decreases vitality.

• Chronic Sciatica - Pinched nerve within the hip flexors. Causes pain on movement. Decreases vitality.

• Chronic Malnutrition - General lack of nutrients. Causes fatigue and slow thinking. Decreases vitality and stamina.

• Astigmatism - Abnormal shape in cornea. Causes impaired vision. Decreases dexterity.

• Mania - General impaired judgment. Causes extravagant behavior and abnormal fixations.

Almost everything was hitting his vitality. Dexterity and stamina were also down a stat point each too. Was this his subconscious trying to tell him to see a doctor or something? No, that would require asking for time off, and he'd need to dig into his wallet. And besides, he'd decided to treat all this as real life for now.

Wowowow, that's a lot of debuffs  (；￣Д￣)

"You're just learning that now?"

Learning it for the first time, same as you are.

The notion boggled Wade's mind. "How could you not know? Aren't you supposed to be a god?" Weren't gods supposed to be all-knowing or something?

Here you go being mean again (≖､≖╬)

I am a god. Specifically of games and stories. This wouldn't be a very fun game or interesting story if I already knew how it goes right? Where's the adventure, the shared discovery? 

"If you wanted to win some stupid game, pick some jock or olympian MMA fighter. Or some spec ops military hero, I don't even know. There's hundreds of people better fit for this. Why me?"

Cause Market picked you. And he's the god of fortune and trade.

"I don't follow."

If the god of gambling picks red forty-three, I'd put all my money on red forty-three too. He found earth by sheer luck, ofc I'd pick who he ended up going to. Market's waaaaay stronger than anyone thinks.

Another text appeared under.

Also, I owe him a lot for the whole finding earth thing. Figured I'd help his little champion out a bit too. Don't tell him I got soft (￣▽￣*)ゞ

"This is what you call help?!" Seriously, whoever or whatever Play was, it seemed more hellbent on annoying him.

You got the game system didn't you? The system that turns everything into game logic? The system that can warp reality itself around you? That little system? Kind of a big deal Michael, you should use it~

Wade sighed, Play had a point: There was a system, and surviving whatever shit this was, he'd need to use all of it.

The stats were nice to know, but there wasn’t any way to add more stat points right now. The buffs were as enigmatic as ever. And the debuffs just made him more depressed about life in general.

But there was one more thing he could check in this demented world: That boon he got. He brought up the menu with a single thought, and there ramrod in the center was the description. There might be more to it now that he could use identify.

Skyviper Archer (Common) - Damage dealt by ranged weapons such as crossbows, slings, and bows are empowered with corrosive when used in a jumping attack. 

"Identify"

Corrosive - Damage over time. Effective against any target with a physical body.

Jumping attack - Any attack initiated while user is vaulting or suspended in the air.

He felt his left eye twitch. “How much damage over time, you stupid god fucking da-" He let out a string of insults. What was the point of identify if it couldn't even tell him the most basic information? Knowing how much damage he could do with the boon was the most important part of the entire thing. What stat did it scale on? Could it be affected by anything else or just flat damage? Could consumables increase the damage, or debuffs on the target? If he wanted to build on this, he needed to know how it worked under the hood.

Out came the phone, but no matter how hard he stared at the screen, no texts from Play came.

He sighed, getting his composure back. Maybe his identify ability was still just common tier trash right now. And behind him, there were leveled mobs too, were they some intro fodder or something worse?

He was a level one and these were level ten and higher mobs.

In some games, a level one couldn't even so much as damage a higher level opponent, while in other games, higher levels might just mean one or two extra hits before death.

A deep crack in the hole snapped Wade's attention, and the stone shifted an inch backwards. While he’d been having a mild existential panic and talking with a god, the skeletons hadn’t been idle.

Dust spilled through the hole like a small gasp, flowing over one of the leering skull silently watching him deeper inside. Then the stone that had been holding this entire defense gave one giant crack, and split into smaller sections. A few dozen skeletal fingers instantly started prying them all backwards, like some kind of infernal undead power drill eating up rocks.

This was it. They were coming for him. He was out of time.

 Wade grabbed a fallen pick from the ground, readying it to bash in the first skull that came through. The moment a head poked out, he swung with all his might. Unfortunately, he noticed at the last second his pick was aimed at the skeleton's mining helmet.

Clang

Level 13 Undead Nathir Slave - 98%

The red health bar above the skeleton flashed for a second, dipping down two percent. The skull rattled and went still. Then it's attention snapped up to face him. Eyeless sockets staring.

As if the monster was insulted to have been attacked.

It started thrashing in place, trying to squeeze through the opening, silently biting away at the air.

He went for the skull again with his pick as hard as he could, causing it to bounce off with a loud clang that left his hands tingling. His first hit on the helmet hadn't been a fluke, this thing was using it's gear to protect itself, tilting its head to block hits.

When had skeletons ever been intelligent in any game or movie!? "That's illegal! How are… you fuckers… intelligent!?" He threw two more hits in between sentences, and each time the skeleton used it's helmet to protect itself.

Wait - what if the skeletons weren't the ones that were intelligent, but instead puppets? That meant necromancer. Which meant he was extra fucked.

He stumbled back as more helmeted heads pushed through the widening gap like mushrooms sprouting off the wall.

Hand and arms came out next from the hole, four or five, all shoving and pushing against each other in their haste to get to the tasty human screaming on the other side. Only reason they hadn't was because they were each getting in the way of each other. At this point, the entire mass of bones was more of an obstacle.

Maybe not a necromancer. No teamwork anywhere in all this. Small blessings.

Wade slammed the pick down again, three more times, each time blocked by the skeletons using their helmets, until the final third hit got halted by something else: One skeletal arm had jabbed up and wrapped three still working fingers around the shaft of the hammer, and yanked it wholesale out of his hand. 

He stumbled backwards, a crazed crackle coming from his mouth. The skeleton crew were now making use of the stolen pick, bashing at the stones around. Like a multi-armed, multi-headed hydra trying to wiggle through too small of a hole. Another hand was reaching to the ground trying to grab a discarded pick there. Wade had the good sense to kick that weapon out of the way before turning around and looking for something more dangerous: One of the two sledgehammers he'd brought out.

Then he went to town again. The lead skeleton fought back, almost annoyed at having to swat him away again. The other bony arms tried for another grab but Wade was wise to the tactic.

He deftly dodged, twisted on himself and landed the attack down hard on the helmet.

Wade heard a snap. The skull and helmet rattled off, rolling onto the ground, jaw extended open and lifeless. The health bar flashed bright red - and finally went down a solid chunk, hovering at 87%.

“Thank fuck, that’s what yo-” His words were stopped halfway as the skeleton’s headless body reached down and grabbed the discarded helmet, lifting it off the unmoving skull, while keeping the stolen pick in the other hand. Then it continued trying to dismantle the stone behind it, the arm moving in ways the body naturally shouldn’t be able to.

Wade swung once more, screaming all the while, and saw to his growing horror that the skeleton was using the discarded helmet like a shield. Not a great one, but good enough to blunt his hits.

Worse, the other skeletons were all steadily squeezing through, arms and fingers getting good grips on the rocks, pulling forward only to get stuck once more against each other. The moment the stone fully broke way, they were going to pop out of this hole like a pimple, and he didn't want to be anywhere around when that happened.

Attacking the mass wasn't working, Wade changed his tactics and swung his hammer straight down on the lifeless exposed skull, hoping that by destroying it he might snap some kind of spell. That's what the skulls usually were all about in movies, right?

The weapon landed hard on the skull, driving it into the mud. The health bar flashed red again from the skeleton stuck in the hole, but only a few percent down. The skull remained intact.

Wade stared at the skull, then to the heavy weapon in his hand, and then back at the skull. This sledgehammer weighed a good ten pounds and made of solid metal. There is no possible chance in hell a regular human skull could survive impact against this.

He swung again. Once more the skull refused to shatter, the health bar equally going down a few percentage points. This must be what's keeping the skeleton going if it's so hard to break. It had to be. He did another swing down but it glanced off the domed head. More out of panic he swung a fourth time. Something changed. A notification flashed across his vision.

Luck triggered: Critical hit!

The skull that had resisted his earlier hits suddenly crunched down exactly like it should have, fracturing into dozens of shards and flying teeth.

The red bar above the headless enemy went down to 66%.

 The skeleton seemed to shudder, freeze as if confused, but resumed its mission to murder Wade, one swing of the pick at at time.

Maybe whatever spell wasn't yet completely broken? He tried to smash the smaller pieces of the shattered skull further, but after pulverizing the additional fragmented pieces, he could see the diminishing returns. Eventually, not even the health bar flashed with each hit.

64% was the best he'd done to the skeleton's health. Only one plan left for all this:

He turned and ran for it, praying that he could identify enough things to get that quest done and something new to work with. Keeping a weapon on him was useless, it already wasn't doing damage. So he dropped it and kept his hands free with his phone light to guide the way into the darkness. Ahead there were plenty of tunnels to pick from and run. Once he got deep enough, he'd find somewhere to hide and turn the light off.

Halfway into the cavern, a small red health bar appeared.

The Blackrot rat that had raced past him earlier had been hiding under a rock. And it certainly spotted Wade racing forward. The rat scrambled away with a tiny shriek far faster than he could limp after it, jumping over a few rocks, zipping over the mud, then squeezed through something that let it drop down out of view. He could see the red health bar through the walls fall with the speed of gravity.

There was an exit there. He raced around, pointing his light all over it. Just mud and stones everywhere, deep black pockets of darkness from shadows where the rat could have snuck into. But he did have something he could see things even his light couldn't reveal: "Identify, Identify, Identi-fucking-fy!"

Stone. Dirt. Mud. Pickaxe. Stone. Hidden Rebel Tunnel.

Glasses of the trade: Identify targets 29/30