To hopefully forget about this awful cheese taste, I should go over everything I've gleaned from my conversation with Greg. First, we're heading towards a town called Ensart. Definitely a fantasy name and these guys look like dwarves to me. But they're hunters, from a farming village? Doesn't sound very dwarfy. Besides that, the mentioned skills? There was an odd weight to the way Greg was talking about building and such when referring to a bandit group. Then, he mentioned skill-less, as if that was some subset of people. So there are skills, but some people don't have any? Sounds pretty much like home, honestly. Wait, didn't Jaren say I would be given some special ability or something? 

After getting more than a few odd looks from Greg and his 'mates', it became clear that I didn't have any special magic powers. At least, not ones triggered by fancy hand gestures. If only there was some easy way to know. Maybe I hallucinated that whole thing? But then how in the hell did I end up here? I can still feel that pain...

Sigh. It couldn't have been easy, could it? I couldn't just say, like, Skills, and a sheet would pop up. Or... think like, Status. That's when the blue screen appeared in front of me. I almost fell down face first, and by that I mean I only smashed my forehead into a tree. After assuring my traveling 'companions' I was fine and trying to hide my indignation at their laughter I studied the display in front of me.

Name: Tom Stevens Title: Otherworlder Class: N/A Health: 4/5 Stamina: 2/10 Mana: 1/1  Skills:  Lucky [Unique]  

Wow... I suck. Like, those are some really low numbers. I think. I have nothing to compare it to. Wait, did I take one damage from hitting my head on the tree? Would hitting my head on four more trees just kill me? Am I that fragile? Oh gods, how much damage could one of those arm-wolves do with one scratch or tackle? I think I'll watch my footing more from now on. But, I guess I figured out my 'special ability'. Lucky, huh? I sure don't feel lucky. I wonder what it does?

Lucky [Unique]: Improved chance of things going well. (This skill cannot level. This skill cannot evolve.)

Well, that's useful. If I ever get any more skills, at least. 'Improved chance of things going well', huh? I guess things are going okay for now, I think. As long as these nice hunters don't murder me. Actually, maybe I shouldn't go with these random men I found in the woods? Ah, but they probably would have already killed me by now. I'm pretty weak. I think. Although, maybe this 'skill' means that they have okay intentions. I haven't noticed anything shifty about them yet, and they are bringing back these arm-wolves so they probably really are who they say they are. Maybe I can get one of them to tell me some of their skills, and I can get an idea of what kinds there are. Also, maybe I could figure out what the class is, or maybe what my title means?

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Otherworlder: Brought here through unknown means, the holder of this title experiences faster growth and can understand the language of any that they meet.

 Oh. That was easy. But it didn't tell me anything about the class box?

N/A: The user lacks a class.

...

I don't know what I expected. Maybe I should use my font of knowledge hidden in Greg here.

"So, Greg. If you don't mind me asking, what skills do you have?"

"Got some balls on you at least. Might help if you do end up working for Ms. Jenson, though she might cut them off."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Nope, he's just stupid.", Simon joined in for the first time and responded to my obvious confusion. "Asking someone their skills is like asking how to kill them."

"Oh! No, no, sorry, I was just curious. Ha! Where I come from it's not like that. People like to brag about their skills, honestly. You know, to show off." I quickly back-tracked and tried to hide my lack of knowledge. 

"Definitely sounds stupid. But I don't think there's much harm in telling you a few things. Skill-less are usually interested, anyway." Simon gave a 'go on' motion to Greg.

"Fine. Not the first time I've told others, anyways. And I get to show off to these two fucks. All right, I've got a few skills floating around. No class, clearly, but that just leaves me like most average folk, if a bit more handsome."

"As handsome as a horses ass!" John showed off his comedic timing.

"Fuck off, John. And stop your sniggering there Simon, you're nothing pretty to look at either. Now, where was I? Ah yes, well recently I've gotten [Shoot], that's my archery skill, up to level six. Not feeling so funny now, eh John?" 

Simon and John went silent at that, looking at Greg in seeming awe. I guess that meant level six was high.

"I uh, actually have you to thank there. Got it from that shot that saved you. That mayhaps have been why I was so nice to ya." Greg blushed a little and kicked his leg out. An odd thing to see, on a man probably twice my age and could kill me very easily. 

"Anyway, I've also got [Cook], level two, [Sight], level three, and [Track], level one. I have more, mind you, but those are the ones that I'm comfortable sharing. Those two also have those, it's up to them if they want to tell you their levels. But I meant it when I said average, earlier. These are just some of the basics, as I'm sure you know. Any two-bit hunter can pick up a bow and get [Shoot], but it takes a lot of work to get to level six. My wife, bless her soul, has level six [Cook]. The things she can make - ohhh, makes my mouth water just thinking about it. Speaking of, we should be getting back to the town any minute now. See the smoke in the trees?"

I definitely couldn't see through the thick branches above us, but I nodded along. Thank goodness we're almost there, my feet are killing me.