Chapter 6: Skilled (1/2)
Sunlight brought a slurry of new experiences.
The first was a serious migraine and a bone-deep fever.
You are suffering from mana poisoning.
Endurance +1
“It’s like slapping me then kissing me.”
Viv climbed out of the tent and packed the camp properly in one minute.
“Oh, Viviane tres chere, what’s for breakfast? The same fucking thing as last breakfast, and last lunch, and last dinner Viviane you silly goose, edible brick with a side of powdered dust, and can you guess the wine pairing? That’s right! Tepid water!”
The constant pain and general feeling of being fed up were finally getting to her.
Your skills have been assessed!
Some of your skills have been designated as ‘alien’ and do not match this world’s magic. They will be listed for your convenience.
Some of your skills have been decoupled from ‘alien’ skills.
Congratulations! Thanks to your relentless efforts, the skills:
…
The list was long. It was cool to know that her preparatory school experience and her bachelor in history were finally going to be useful. Fucking joke that she had to go to a magical world for it to happen.
…
Have all been merged into the full skill: ‘Polymath scholar’!
Fan-fucking-tastic.
//You have a brilliant mind, Your Grace, as expected of the heir. Long may you live!
“None of this matters because we’re in the middle of the bloody desert.”
Or rather, at the edge. Bah, it did not matter.
//There is more coming, milady.
Congratulations! Thanks to your relentless efforts, the skills
Have all been merged into the advanced skill: Householding
“Daddy would be so proud.”
//…
“Not much to say about that one, hey?”
//When we are done, Your Grace, we will make sure that you never have to touch a broom again in your life.
“Aw.”
//Unless you wish to swat someone, Your Grace.
“Or ride it.”
//Your Grace?
Viv’s image of flying at high speed under the moon in the company of strapping young lads and lasses while wearing fancy school uniforms evaporated like snow under the sun. She was too old to be admitted anyway.
“Nevermind. There is more.”
And there was more indeed. She gained advanced skills in athletics and survival. Survival was useful in helping her orient herself, as well as finding and identifying natural resources. Just like the rest, it was completely fucking useless in this wasteland. Athletics was the true treasure here as it would help her walk faster and drag the cart for longer without taking breaks.
Outlander-specific note.
The gods Nous and Maradoc come to your aid in your hour of need!
Skills have been separated in tiers and levels of control for a better grasp by the human mind. The numbers represent how well you understand a skill and how deeply you can draw on magic to assist you in your endeavors. The magic of skills is deeper than the magic you cast. They are bound to concepts.
Basic skills consolidate into advanced skills, which consolidate into full skills. You do not lose your abilities by consolidating skills, so no two advanced skills are identical.
You need to reach a threshold in required skills to consolidate them.
If one of your skills was already consolidated, it will be counted as still existing for the purpose of further consolidation. For example, [Archery] can be consolidated into the advanced skills [Sharpshooter] and then [Scout] at a later date.
Individual skills progress over seven thresholds from novice to divine. Progressing past the master threshold (4) requires skill and a lifetime of dedication. Each grade is further divided into 10 ranks for the convenience of your human mind.
“What the fuck? Do they think we love math?”
//Human minds categorize and separate more than other sentient species’ minds.
//Human minds also like to compare themselves to see who is the best.
“...Fair enough.”
General skills
Polymath
Beginner 3
Athletics
Beginner 9
Survival
Beginner 9
Householding
Novice 8
Hand to hand combat
Intermediate 6
Pain tolerance
Beginner 9
Small blades
Beginner 7
Meditative Trance
Beginner 5
Basic music
Beginner 5
Mana manipulation
Novice 2
“Twenty four years of study and hard work and I got ten skills,” Viv commented as she finished packing her meager belongings.
//It takes effort and purpose to obtain a skill at the novice rank.
//Most skills should be taken with the objective to consolidate them.
//One full skill and three advanced skills at your age are nothing to scoff at, Your Grace. //For a commoner.
//Your world had no magic and many of the skills you acquired are no longer applicable.
//We will now work towards the acquisition of [Mana Mastery] and [Genocidal Maniac].
Viv’s hands freeze on her harness.
“There is a genocidal maniac skill?”
//This unit intends to find out. Glory to the heir! Long may she live!
“Okay calm down buttercup. Get your priorities straight.”
//Diagnostic in process.
//Priorities are already straight.
Viv started walking. There was a tab with ‘alien skills’ which included the Special Forces Training consolidated skill and other stuff like computer science and even modern accountancy. They were shown as temporarily deactivated.
She focused on her memories of assembling and disassembling a FAMAS, her standard assault rifle. She could still visualize every component including the tripod she never used. Her memories were not gone, this world simply did not know how to add magic to the mix.
“Do you know why my advanced skills are stuck at Beginner 9 by the way?”
//Advanced skills all incorporate the magic of the world at higher levels.
//You will keep progressing now that your soul has a greater influence on the world.
One hour later, Viv had to stop for the dreaded, inevitable moment she had expected ever since realizing that all the toilet paper on Harrak had long since disintegrated.
//You should allow me to use all sensors at all times, Your Grace.
//This unit cares not for your weak form’s biological imperatives.
“Shut up and watch the dunes.”
Life was hell.
Trying to move her mana gave her the only solace she could find. The meditative trance skill must have been at work. The absence of notifications indicated that she had gained it back on earth, along with pain tolerance. She remembered that sometimes, it felt like her body was past its limit and only willpower carried her forward. The altered state she had reached then came much more naturally now, as if she had turned into a super buddhist monk.
It really helped her deal with the fever and the ever-present migraine.
Later, they went past the Harrak west gate. It, too, had a couple on each side and led to the central pyramid. She now realized that the explosion had angled towards the south where she was now going. What little she could see in the distance looked completely demolished, and that was only the side of the blast.
Power +1
You have reached a milestone! You can now increase your strength dramatically for a single movement at the cost of increased fatigue.
“Progress.”
//Your nature as an outlander and your low physical stats will lead to rapid increase of values.
“But so far I have mostly gained mental stats?”
//I believe that you have not gained anything per se. Your body just acclimated to magic and the interface now accurately represents your intellect.
“The relationship between stats, what I really am and magic is a bit confusing.”
//Human interface is designed to be useful and accessible even to the illiterate and the stupid.
“You mean, people who cannot read don’t see letters?”
//No. They perceive the concepts directly.
//It is a much slower process.
“Does the god Nous really look down on us like that?”
//Have you met the average human?
“...”
//Perhaps the average human in your native world is a balanced, rational individual with empathy—
“You don’t have to finish that sentence.”
//It is through no fault of your own that you were born in an imperfect fleshy vessel, Your Grace.
“Thanks.”
//Empathy expressed, returning to the main objective.
//For the next segment, I would like you to recharge me while walking.
“Really?”
//This unit—
“Ok, got it.”
It kind of annoyed Viv that she was willing to just do anything the golem told her to do. On the other hand, it was clearly for her own good and if she did not like to do what she was told, she would never have joined the armed forces.
Come to think of it, her act of rebellion against being told what to do by her dad had led her to a career path where she was told what to do by random folks. There was a Freudian message there somewhere.
She did not particularly want to find it.
At least Mouq had the qualifications to order people. The Berber woman had also once killed a man by punching him to death with a ceramic plate. It was hard to say no to someone who had done that, then cleaned her face with a hanky and gone on with her day.