Sean pulled his black blade out from the head of a massive reptile with a wet shlick, then pulled himself up out of the mystery-water he was laying in and leaned it up against the wall of the sewer for Gel to clean after his meal. He had known immediately what this particular monster was the second they had seen it, and the prompt showing its defeat had only confirmed it.

You have slain a Sewer Crocodile! You have gained 10 experience points. 

“You know,” Sean began, dipping his hands into his stomach and allowing the slime to dissolve the grime that had almost caused his sword to slip through his fingers at the end there. The muck on the rest of his body didn’t bother him as much given his inability to smell anything, but as that battle had just proved, he needed to remember to keep his hands clean when holding weapons. “Back where I’m from, there are jokes about crocs living in the sewers. It’s a bit of an urban legend. Something nobody really believes, and yet–” 

The gelaton gestured at their defeated opponent with his hand as if to say: “Here we are”. 

“Is it really that strange?” Gel asked, sounding actually curious as the slime began consuming their downed foe. “It’s basically the perfect shape for this place. Long. Thin. Wide mouth… I’m just curious how it turns around if it wants to go another way.” 

“You and me both.” 

It took some time for even the slime to actually dissolve his way through the sewer crocodile’s leathery flesh. Gel hadn’t managed to do so during the fight. Not with his whip, and not even with his axe. In the end Sean had gone for the truly Florida Man-solution of wrapping himself around its jaw to keep it from opening up to bite him. What had followed involved more flailing about and rolling in liquids he was certain were not supposed to be flailed about in, but the tactic had eventually worked. 

When I got my sword through its head, at least. Sean thought, sizing up their latest kill with no small amount of pride. He reached over and patted the slain reptile on the snout. You were a tough bastard, I’ll give you that. 

Rough burning orb measurement told Sean the sewer crocodile was at least 12 feet long, and taller than he remembered ever seeing one being on nature documentaries. It was hard to tell musculature on a reptile half-submerged in sewer filth, but Sean thought it looked thicker, too. Like it had never skipped leg or tail day once in its entire life. Then there was its teeth… 

Sean rubbed his left forearm with one hand, remembering the part of the fight where the crocodile had tried to crunch down on his arm while they wrestled only for his bone shield to get in the way. The shield had broken, but thankfully his arm had not. 

That might have been a closer fight than I gave it credit for. Sean reflected, acutely aware of how even his heavy investment in toughness hadn’t given him the damage resistance to ignore croc bites. Not that he had expected it to. Now I know why people make necklaces out of their teeth. Always thought it was kind of tacky, but I suppose if you’ve wrestled one then you’ve earned it. Wait. Don’t people make gumbo out of sharks? Maybe we should save some…

Sean watched Gel dissolve his way into the creature’s skin even as a small wave of brownish-green water rolled up the reptile’s side. A few stray indistinguishable lumps of something rolling over its heavily muscled leg.

On second thought, we can find another one. Not feeling ‘use sewer water as cooking broth’ vibes today. 

The sewer crocodile was the latest and greatest of their encounters down here so far, at least those of the monster variety. After working out the specifics of their deal with Saren and assuring the paladin that they would do their part, the pair had left the owlen behind to recover while they went about finding a way into the city. Theoretically there were any number of grates leading up to the city above they could use, and they had in fact already found several of them. 

Problem was, Sean was absolutely certain that emerging from a sewer grate as a 7 or 8 foot tall skeletal horror wrapped in all-consuming crimson liquid was the swiftest way possible for them to find themselves on the wrong side of Dervash’s city guards. There was also the matter of his own injuries and bare-minimum remaining health to deal with. Not to mention that they would need a disguise convincing enough to let them walk around street-side without raising suspicions if they were to have any hope of visiting the city’s spice stalls. 

Something the pair of them were both very keen on doing, and Sean had a solution he hoped would get them there. 

All he needed, or at least all he hoped he needed, was a little more experience. 

Come on… Sean mentally encouraged the prompt he knew was coming as Gel finished slurping the sewer croc’s insides. Didn’t happen at fifteen, didn’t happen at sixteen, seventeen has got to be it. We’ve got to be close by now. Come on. Give it to us, you know you want to.  

Come onn… 

The prompt for Gel consuming the crocodile came, netting both of them an additional 10 experience points and 4 mana each. Sean barely noticed it. He was waiting for something else to appear. The same thing he had been waiting for after every one of their kills the last few hours. 

Come onnnn….

Fireworks of every color shot off in his vision, and Sean’s skull nearly split in half with his grin despite his less than sanitary surroundings. A familiar prompt appeared a second later, its celebratory gold interior with silver trim sparking joy deep in the undead gelaton’s heart. Vicious black lettering spelling out the words Sean had been waiting days – no, weeks – to read. 

Congratulations, by accomplishing feats remarkable even to the patient notice of Death itself, you have reached level 17! As a Gelaton you gain 1 point of Might, 1 point of Adaptation, and 2 points of Toughness with every level. 

As excited as he was for it, Sean closed that prompt in record time, hoping for–

– and there it was. 

Congratulations, you have earned your next evolution!

Gel stopped moving. Sean actually heard the sizzling and bubbling stop as the slime registered what had just happened at the same time he did. 

“Sean– Sean!” Gel all but shouted at him in sudden excitement. “Did you see!?” 

“You’re damn right I did!” Sean held up his right hand, and Gel gave him a high-five with his crimson whip in a motion they had been practicing as they crossed the desert. Sean pulled up the next prompt.

Now, to see what our options are… 

As the next prompt opened, the gelaton had to admit: He was not disappointed. 

Congratulations, Initiate of Death! Upon reaching level 17, you have earned the right to evolve into your next form! As a sentient creature, you are unique amongst your undead brethren in that you have the right to choose which of the following unlocked third-tier evolutions you would like to become: 

• Skeletal Commando

• Dry Knight

• Skeletal Carriage

• Bonemass

• Geladin

• Arsenal Chef

“Got… damn.” Sean whispered through their bond as he read. Just the names of his options alone were tantalizing. Well, most of them anyway. He already knew he wouldn’t be choosing ‘skeletal carriage’ no matter what benefits it offered. The rest, though…

Wasting no time, Sean pulled up the first option. 

Evolution: Skeletal Commando

Tier: 3

Rarity: Surpassing

Description: Terrors in the night who bring the end to their enemies as often as they inspire nightmares, skeletal commandos are infiltrators down to the very bone. Just as adept at disguise as they are deadly in close-quarters combat, these undead are amongst the few known (and feared) to be found inside the settlements of living races. Even if their presence is only discovered after the fact. Skeletal commandos possess the ability to adopt the flesh and guise of those they have recently slain for a short time. 

Special Traits: Skinwalker

Sean slowly pushed his jaw back up with the back of his reaper’s hand. He stared at the text, marveling at the description. This is… exactly what we need. It’s morbid, sure. Morbid as hell. But this is exactly what we’d need to get inside the city… and it’s only the first option! 

Ordinarily, Sean made a habit of writing off the first picks for evolution that came up. They were normally interesting, but a bit bland overall and he preferred to really go all-in on ‘wow factor’ on something if he was going to evolve into it. 

Looks like the third-tier options aren’t playing around. Sean hadn’t missed that his first option had also been surpassing rarity – just as his current evolution, Gelaton, had been. Maybe one of these will be the next step up in rarity, then? 

Excitement surging despite his undead nature’s best attempts to calm it down, Sean pulled up the next option. 

Evolution: Dry Knight

Tier: 3

Rarity: Surpassing

Description: Often found roaming the world’s deserts leading packs of its lesser brethren on journeys only the undead find succor in, dry knights are the heavily armored cousins of dry bones. Capable of taking blows that would shatter their lesser kin, these undead use their characteristically long reach to retaliate against and desiccate their foes. Dry knights drain both health and mana from their prey, leaving only husks behind wherever they go. 

Special Traits: Advanced Desiccation

“Advanced Desiccation”? Sean thought incredulously. They drain both health and mana?

The utility from just that benefit alone was almost enough to convince Sean that this option was in the running. Draining health from their kills would solve one of his greatest recurring issues. But it… wasn’t enough. Sean remembered reading the description for the ‘Dry Bones’ variant this one referenced in one of his earlier options, and he felt much the same about this one as he had back then. While appearance didn’t matter as much to him these days, choosing this option with its ‘characteristically long reach’ was as good as writing off the chance to explore Dervash entirely. There would be no chance at disguise if he was dragging his knuckles across the ground, or looked like some kind of tall, thin Splenderman-reject. 

 

Nope. He decided. Not for me. Next! 

Evolution: Skeletal Carriage

Tier: 3

Rarity: Surpassing

Description: Found serving the needs of great necromancers and powerful undead alike, skeletal carriages are amongst the more premier ways to travel for those who serve Death. Perfectly capable of providing a comfortable travel interior as they are at rolling over the crunched bones of would-be interlopers, skeletal carriages are every bit as offensive as they are defensive in nature. Skeletal carriages lower travel costs and show off their flair by integrating the bones of slain opponents into their frame, a practice used for repairs as often as it is for show. 

Special Traits: Wheeled Vehicle, Parts Swap

“Now… just hear me out–” Gel began, but the gelaton had never cut his friend off so fast.

“Nope. Not happening.” Sean asserted flatly. 

“But–” 

“You so much as think about selecting that option, or any hybrid option you may have that’s similar to it, and I will add a copious handful of salt to every single meal I ever make you in the future.” 

Both of them were quiet for a moment, with Sean doing his best to convey through their bond that he was wholly and truly serious about that threat. He was already planning on adding a little bit to most meals anyway as it was practically a prerequisite, but what was a little more?

“... carry on then.” Gel said after a second, and Sean simply nodded.

That particular line in the sand drawn, Sean skipped down to his fourth option.

Evolution: Bonemass

Tier: 3

Rarity: Surpassing

Description: A hybrid slime-skeleton evolution that transforms the slime into living musculature to suit an ever-growing frame, a bonemass is a rarely seen, but actively recognized threat to many remote communities. Typically appearing only years or decades later at the site of great battles, these undead tend to rapidly out-compete other natural predators in whatever region they appear. A bonemass has a greatly magnified upper limit on its ability to absorb mass from other creatures, and will convert nearly all of it towards becoming one of two things: stronger, or harder to kill. 

Special Traits: Mass Expansion, Muscle Conversion 

Sean let out a long, slow whistle through his teeth. Mentally, of course. Then he re-read the description, feeling himself get more convinced as he did. 

This one… might actually work. If I can turn Gel into muscle, then making a disguise for us will be even easier. We won’t just be a bag of bones in a cloak, won’t clatter when someone bumps into us, and if someone catches a glimpse underneath they might be more concerned than scared. 

There was also the fact that Sean was really digging the whole becoming ‘harder to kill’ part, too. Extra strength was nice and all, but he was real hard on ‘not dying again’ for an undead. 

‘These undead tend to rapidly out-compete other natural predators’. Sean stole a glance at the crocodile – mother nature’s perfect killing machine for millennia – that the pair of them had just slain to gain their next level and this chance at evolution. Pretty sure we already have that on lock, actually. 

Like all of his other options so far save ‘Skeletal Carriage’, ‘Bonemass’ was actually a pretty good choice. So far, it was about tied with ‘Skeletal Commando’ in his mind. 

At least, until Sean pulled up the next two options. Then, if it were possible for his eye sockets to grow any wider, they absolutely would have. 

Ho-ly shit. Sean thought, staring blankly at the space in his vision where the next prompts had appeared side-by-side this time thanks to his inadvertent mental command to do so. How is that–

“Gel, are you seeing–” 

“Ohh-ho-ho, yes.” The slime cackled madly. “Yes, I am indeed. Now the only question is…” 

“Which one do we pick?”