Jerome wakes to the sound of birds, and though they sound strange and are unfamiliar, they still make for a peaceful alarm clock.

He sits up on the bed and rubs the sleep from his eyes.

I decided I wanted to stay in Nesk for a few weeks, not only to get my bearings in my situation but also to learn more about the world I am now a part of.

I have only been hear a few days so far, but already I am starting to adjust. It helps that so far everyone here have been very kind and helpful, I am even considering working downstairs in the kitchen of the tavern to help bring in more business as I have knowledge of recipes that do not exist in this world.

I am glad that Nicholas has helped me so much thus far; he called in a favour to get me this room and has even started trying to teach me archery.

Jerome gets up and walks over to the bucket of water that rests next to the window, splashing his face a few times, and gets dressed.

Heading down the stairs, he sees that the tavern that he is staying at is doing quite well for itself. It is still quite early, but there are many people seated at tables eating. It seems this place is a local hotspot for breakfast.

Jerome walks over to Moko "Good morning, Moko. I just want to thank you again for allowing me to stay, even if as a favour to Nicholas."

She smiles back at him brightly, "Nonsense, of course you are welcome here, are you looking to feed yourself, little one?."

So strange been called 'little one', I suppose in my past life I was above average height, however, that would make no difference with Moko. She is over seven feet tall and built like a tank; she is, however, extremely sweet, especially for an Orja, I was told by Nicholas. She looks kind of like a mix between an orc and an elf.

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"Thank you, Moko, I would love some; I am starving after all the training with Nicholas yesterday," Jerome laughs as he sits down at a nearby table.

After a while, Moko returns with a wooden platter and a few bowls, one full of a tomato-based soup and another with what appeared to be rice with some herbs neatly sprinkled over the top. There was also a big hunk of hard bread that was actually very tasty and quite easy to eat with a little help from the soup.

I, however, did want to practise using my new skills, so I did just that.

Jerome stared at the bowl of soup and whispered to himself, "Analyze."

A small window popped into Jerome's vision.

—Analysis Complete—

- Designation: Tomato Soup

- Grade: C

- Harm factor: N/A

- Temperature: Warm (22 °C)

This gives me far more information than I initially thought I would get, not that I am complaining.

After finishing his food, Jerome makes his way out of the tavern, waving to Moko as he leaves. After a few minutes of walking, he enters the forest and finds Nicholas waiting for him.

Nicholas looked up, brushed a strand of hair out of his face, and smiled. "You are finally here. I thought you may have decided this was too hard. I am glad to see I was wrong."

Jerome shrugs a little and looks to Nicholas: "I had considered it, but I thought about it for a while and realised it would not be in my best interests; after all, out of the three skills I have, zero of them having any offensive capabilities."

Nicholas nods "Yes, that is why I believe you should learn some form of defence, be it bow or sword, cudgel or dagger. I am sure I can teach the basics."

After a few hours of training with Nicholas and failing miserably, We decide to make our way to the tavern for some lunch, however Nicholas puts a hand out and notions for me to stop, I remain quite, the look on Nicholas's face is serious and it seems he is listening to something.

"We need to get back to the village; I must speak with Liana immediately." Nicholas is sweating, and his eyes are starting to dart between the trees.

I nod slowly, not wanting to make too much noise, not exactly sure what has him so on edge. Halfway back to the village, I hear an audible crack behind us and to the left. Nicholas froze, so I did as well.

"Well, look what we have here," a feminine voice cooed.

It made the hair on the back of my neck stand up; the voice itself was sweet-sounding, but my senses knew better than me because all I felt was fear. which only grew worse when I turned my head to look in the direction of the voice.