Carrie had learned for the roughly year she's been in this world that skills are a lot more then they look. While they certainly have a game like aspect to them, as far as she could tell, they were far more integrated into the world then she had first expected. This wasn't like some VRMMO she had played in the past, where skills were basically just a list of actions you could take. Here, skills were intrinsically tied to how the world functioned. They weren't just abilities; they were extensions of the laws that governed reality. And depending on what type the skill was, like active or passive, what it does and a wide varity of other factors, they could interact with each other in unexpected ways.
Her Experienced Butcher skill is a good example. Carrie learned that it is a skill that evolved from Novice Butcher. It is a passive skill that not only makes it easier to butcher animals, but also allows her to intuitively sense the weak points in prey. She discovered this when hunting a horned rabbit. It was not just a passive skill that made her knife work faster, but a subconscious understanding of anatomy that guided her hand. Her knife slid between vertebrae without conscious thought, severing the spinal cord with surgical precision. And to get the skill, she of course had to butcher a lot of dead animals just to get the basic verson of the skill. And evolving it require more then just how many she has butchered.
Its safe to say, skills are far more complex then she had first thought. Carrie's Experienced Butcher skill doesn't just passively guide her knife; it whispers insights into creature anatomy that feel like second nature. And then it was how it effected her other skills, passive and active alike.
Ingredient Knowledge, Touch of the Chef and Basic Cutting Technique are all passive skills for her class as cook, and mostly likely gained through her experience when she was still back on earth and alive. These four passive skills alone gave a type of synchronicity that Carrie never expected. Experienced Butcher whispered weak points and anatomy insights, while Ingredient Knowledge flooded her mind with edible flora properties as she gathered wild onions near the creek. Touch of the Chef made her phalanges tingle when she brushed sage leaves, sensing their peak freshness. Basic Cutting Technique guided her bone fingers in precise, efficient motions as she diced tubers back at her makeshift campfire. The skills weren't separate buttons on a menu; they flowed together like muscle memory, amplifying each other without conscious effort.
This was only considering the skills she has for her cook class. She has racial skills for being both undead and a skeleton type. Passive and active both. Being fire varient also gave her skills and two spells. There was a lot to consider.
And much like how she levels up, so those her skills one way or the other. Active skills like her Pan Strike—which should have been clumsy at first since it was on level one but given she have had to hit people before she came into this world to defend herself or hit someone accidentally due to surprise, it was just like riding a bike. And giving some solid hits if how Thalmor had anything to say when he had asked her to hit him a few times.
Anyways, for skills to evolve there are requirements or conditions. Leveling the skills to its current max is a must, but then you have to do something else to make it evolve. Carrie had learned that much. For Experienced Butcher, it wasn't just butchering more corpses—one also needed to butcher different sizes of corpses, types of corpses, and even different species to get it to evolve. Along with learing a bit of atonomy. Her skill came already evolved however, but if she wanted it to evolve again, she had to do just that. Expect now she had to focus on getting magical animals, beasts or monster corpses instead of more normal ones. Along with one more thing.
That sudden battle they had a few days ago, had leveled her up to her own max level as she found out when she returned in the morning after dealing with corpse clean up. Gathering the dead soliders and dealing with those things that had attacked them as best as she could. When she had asked the team about the odd blinking her level was doing as well as what SP was, she had gotten some answers she had not expected.
As a lesser skeleton, she had a level limit at 5. Meaning she can't go any higher until she had evolved into a normal skeleton, a thing she was working on. The blinking on her level cap was bascially telling her she had a lot more experience that has basically been put into 'storage' by the system for later alloction to leveling up once she had a higher level cap at 15. She may have not killed any of the things that attacked them, but what she had done in the battle had still counted enough she'd gained a lot more exp then she would have thought.
The SP though? That was the last thing she needed to evolve her skills or even spells to more advance and even speicalized versons. Also know as skill points by some but most called them SP for short. Thing is, SP are only gained every fifth level and often somewhere between 1 to 10 SP is given at random. She had been lucky enough to get 7 whole SP when she reached level 5.
But the thing is, she has few skills or spells to evolve. At least right now. Several of her skills and a few of her spells has leveled enough she can evolve them, but the rest of them are on the basic level and as Thorgrim and Grommash had explained to her, SP is rare to have so early. She has SP to spare and almsot nothing to use it on. Which she found was fine cause why waste it on skills she might evolve naturally? Unless she really wants to specialize a skill.
As for the skills or spells she she can evolve? She was having a bit of a hard time with some of them. Her Sling Mastery skill had leveled enough it can evolve, but it came with options to what she wanted it to become next. Nothing too fancy since this was the first time it was evolving and both dwarf and orc had made sure to explain that the more powerful or rare options will not be available till it evolved again.
The options she had for the skill? There where three of them, each having their advantages and disadvantages. She could choose Sling Mastery to evolve into Slinger's Precision, which would increase accuracy and allow her to hit weak points more consistently. Or she could pick Rapid Volley, letting her fire stones in quick succession but sacrificing some power. The last option was Heavy Projectile, enhancing damage per shot but slowing her reload time significantly.
Sling Mastery was not the only skill that was ready to evolve either. Her Dash skill had also reached its requirement thanks to all the dodging she had to do to survive. It too came with three options as well. Fleet Footed, which would increase her speed significantly for short bursts. Endurance Runner, which would allow her to maintain a steady pace without tiring for longer distances. And Burst Charge, which would allow her to close distance quickly with a powerful charge attack.
Her Pan Strike skill could also evolve. It has only two options: Heavy Swing for crushing blows or Quick Jab for rapid, weaker hits. She is gonna hold off on it for longer since any cooking skill that can be used for attacks or defense are rare to get, even on a basic level and she don't fully know how things work on that yet. Ironwing had told her before she left with the reinforcment that he would be looking more into cook class skill set to help her once she returned form her assignment.
She also had a passive skill to as well to evolve. From her race based ones, and one she had not look into too much. Aside from Bone Durability and Slash Immunity, both passive skills that can't evolve, she also had Bone Structure. She had not read much into the skill due how lack luster it where at the time nor seemed to be very important. She is regreting it now as she reads the options for Bone Structure evolution options are.
In essence, this passive skill is vital for a skeletal undead as herself. Bone Structure, which she had assumed was just a basic reinforcement of her frame, actually formed the foundation of her entire physical integrity. She had neglected it initially because it seemed insignificant—just a minor boost to durability—but now, as she examined its evolution paths, she realized its critical importance for a lot of things. Its her bones that not only allowed her to interact with objects, walk around and such. But it also where her magic is stored and channeled through. Without Bone Structure, she would collapse into a pile of bones unable to move.
So while she only had two options to evolve this passive skill, with the cost of a single SP as she notice as she read further, she knew Bone Structure was the one she had to evolve first. One option was Compact Frame—a reinforcement that condensed her skeletal mass, boosting durability against blunt impacts but slightly reducing flexibility. The other was Flexible Joints—enhancing articulation for smoother movement and evasion, but leaving her more vulnerable to crushing blows. Carrie weighed them carefully, phalanges tapping her femur in thought. Glad that Snikk had taken over wago duty as she needed time to consider all her new options and the team at a whole has said she deserved some time to think while they when they where on the move again.
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Which happened yesterday. The previously strong 100 reinforcment was now at 78, thanks to the ambush attack a few days back. With 20 of them still injured enough they had to be in the wagons and carrges they had with them. Thankfully they had plenty of wagons for the wounded and supplies. Carrie was riding in the one she was incharge off, holding what little was left of their basic supplies.
"Still thinking about it lass?" Came Thorgrim's thick accent from the wagon bench beside her. Carrie jerked, her phalanges clacking against her femur where she'd been unconsciously tapping it. The dwarf's weathered face crinkled in amusement as he gestured at her idle hands. Letting out a sigh and a nod made the dwarven earth mage actually crack a smile.
"Its always the hardest the first time, especially when you don't have anything planned before hand on what you want a skill or spell to evolve into." Thorgrim said, his voice rough but warm. He shifted on the wagon bench, the wood creaking under his weight. "Which one are you thinking of this time?" He asked, having been for the past few days helping with understanding the basics of skills along with Grommash.
Carrie let her phalanges rest on her femur, the bone cool and smooth under her touch. She focused inward, pulling up her status screen—a faint, ghostly overlay only she could see. "Bone Structure," she replied, her jawbone clicking softly. "Compact Frame or Flexible Joints. One makes me tougher against crushing blows but less agile. The other... faster movements, but easier to shatter." She paused, recalling how she'd nearly lost an arm to one of those bear things. "I'm leaning toward Compact Frame. Last ambush proved blunt force hurts worse than blades."
Both Snikk and Thorgrim nodded at that. They also knew she already had a good skill that basically made her immune to any slash related attacks. But skeletons are know to be weak against blunt, smash and piercing type weapons. So Compact Frame would lessen that weakness. But Flexible Joints would also have its own advantages. "Well, lass, if you're leaning towards Compact Frame, go for it. You have to live with it after all." Thorgrim said, leaning back against the wagon's side.
Snikk, their thiving goblin also put in his two cent. "Beside, from what I understand with undead, having a tougher frame is a good start. Specially for when one evolves the first time, as it'll help with forming a stronger base for the next evolution for most creatures. Even undead." Carrie nodded at that point.
"I'm not that well versed in undead myself" Thorgrim admitted, scratching his beard. "But Snikk's got a point. A sturdy foundation serves ye better in the long run. Especially when yer bones are yer armor, yer limbs, and yer spell conduits all at once." He gestured at her ribcage. "A little less bend might mean a lot less break when a warhammer comes calling."
Carrie's phalanges twitched as she visualized the options—the dense, interlocking plates of Compact Frame versus the fluid articulation of Flexible Joints. A memory surfaced: her left radius snapping clean when she'd blocked a falling boulder during the ambush. The pain had been abstract, more like a sudden absence where stability should've been. She flexed the now-repaired bone experimentally. "Compact Frame," she decided aloud, and the SP vanished from her reserves like smoke through ribs. Luckly it only cost two of them so she still have five left.
But she felt the change immediatly, even under her learther armour, the bones her skeletal body was made of shifted subtly. The sensation was less like transformation and more like her very structure remembering a forgotten truth—her marrow humming as calcium lattices reconfigured with audible clicks. Carrie exhaled sharply (a habit retained from life) when her vertebrae realigned with military precision, each joint now reinforced with microscopic ridges that locked together like puzzle pieces. Even her fingers felt heavier, the delicate phalanges gaining density without sacrificing dexterity—until she tried to twist her wrist backward and found resistance where there'd once been fluid motion.
"Definitely less bendy," she muttered, rotating her forearm with mechanical precision. Thorgrim chuckled and tossed her a copper coin—she caught it midair, but the impact resonated up her ulna with a dull chime, like striking tempered glass. Snikk whistled through his jagged teeth. "Good pick, Bone-bag. Next time some meat-head swings a mace at ya, you'll ring like a church bell instead of cracking like a teacup." The wagon hit a rut then, jostling them all, but Carrie's posture remained rigid, her spine absorbing the shock without the usual rattle.
"And don't worry too much about being less flexibile at the moment," Snikk said, leaning forward with a grin that showed too many teeth. "Once you evolve to a proper skeleton, you'll have plenty of room for more specialized adjustments—undead evolution isn't a one-time deal, yeah?" Carrie nodded her head, thinking back on all the option she'll have once a proper skeleton and not a lesser one.
"Yeah, and I'll need every advantage I can get," Carrie said, flexing her newly reinforced fingers with a series of audible clicks. The wagon lurched again as the convoy hit uneven terrain, but her grip on the bench remained steady—no more accidental splinters gouging her metacarpals. She glanced at her status screen again, watching the remaining SP flicker mockingly. Five points left. Enough to upgrade a skill or two more, but not much more. Not that she was going to use more now anyway, not when she is asked something else by Snikk.
"By the way," Snikk said, his grin turning sly as he leaned closer, "where did you get those poitons you used during battle. They tasted less like death rolled over a stump and more like..." he hesitated, his nose wrinkling in rare hesitation, "...something almost palatable."
"Oh I make those myself." Carrie answered, phalanges absently tracing the empty vials at her belt. The faint herbal scent still lingered from the used lesser healing potions during that ambush days ago. She had used up half her stock on helping the wounded from dying even if all a lesser potion was good for was minor injuries and staving off death for a few moments more. It wasn't much but it was better than nothing.
Snikk's yellow eyes narrowed, his pointed ears twitching forward with sudden interest. "You made them?!" He hissed, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as he leaned in closer. "But I thought undead couldn't...you know." His clawed fingers mimed retching motions. "Unless you found some way around the whole 'no digestion' issue?" His nose wrinkled again, this time in morbid curiosity.
"The imps back at the fortress was my taste testers. And no I don't have the alchemy skill yet, I only know how to make lesser healing, stamina and antidote potions. Hardly enough to gain the alchemy skill." Carrie's jawbone clicked in amusement as Snikk's face twisted in horrified fascination. She tapped her skull where a brain would be. "I used some tricks from my past life to make them a little more easy to drink but I'm still working things out."
"Can I get a few of those stamina and antidote potions, pretty please?" Snikk asks, rubbing his hands together with a grin that borders on manic. His eyes dart to her belt where the remaining vials clink softly—half-empty from their last battle. Carrie tilts her skull, weighing the request against their dwindling supplies and the way Snikk once stole her last copper coin. "Only if you promise not to pawn them off," she says, watching his grin falter for a fraction of a second before he nods too quickly.
"Well, we won't have to worry too much abotu supplies and such." Torgrim said suddenly, breaking the moment between Carrie and Snikk as he pointed ahead. Carrie turned her skull to follow his gesture—the winding forest path had given way to a steep decline, revealing a sprawling military outpost nestled in the valley below. Smoke rose from dozens of campfires, and the distant clang of metal echoed faintly. "Fort Marrow," he continued, scratching his beard. "Welcome to the outpost nearest to the great wall and its battlefields."
Snikk whistled through his jagged teeth, his earlier greed momentarily forgotten. "Looks like they're expecting trouble," he muttered, pointing to the clusters of soldiers drilling beyond the palisades—far more than a frontier garrison typically housed. Carrie's phalanges tightened on the wagon's edge as she spotted the banners: not just the local lord's colors, but sigils from three different noble houses, their standards fluttering in uneasy proximity.
Not help by the fact half of the whole fort was missing thanks to serious damage done and what Carrie is pretty sure is dried blood staining parts of the outer stone walls a dark brown. Along with signs of heavy fighting and repairs hastily done. "We're not just reinforcing them," Carrie murmured, her hollow voice carrying an edge of grim realization. "They're barely holding." Thorgrim nodded, his knuckles whitening around his magic book and Snikk taking out one of his many daggers to twirl it nervously between his fingers.
"Well, Carrie," Snikk begins, as small smile that was not quite honest on his lips. "Nothing like walking into a slaughterhouse to make you appreciate reinforced bones, yeah?" The wagon wheels hit a rock, jostling them all in their seats as they descended toward the battered fort—Carrie's newly fortified frame absorbing the impact without so much as a rattle. Below them, a squad of soldiers in dented armor jogged through the gates, their movements sharp with the kind of exhaustion that comes from too many battles in too few days. One of them looked up, spotting their convoy, and Carrie didn't need living flesh to recognize the slump of his shoulders—relief, yes, but also the weary dread of men who know reinforcements just mean the fighting isn't over.
Carrie just lets out another sigh and mentally perpare herself. For whatever comes next she was sure was not gonna be a happy one.
