With a groan, I rolled onto my side. From the sun and sounds outside, it was later than I would have liked, and I was sorer than I wanted to be. I'd fallen asleep in my gambeson, which as pajamas went, was about as far from comfortable as I could imagine.

Memory pieced itself together, prodded along by the sticky sensation of unwashed sweat and the smells of woodsmoke and crisping meat that wafted in from somewhere outside.

Bubbles. Our disagreement the previous evening came to the forefront of my mind. I looked around the small hut, but she was nowhere to be found.

As if in response to my rising panic, the 'ding' of a new message sounded in my mind.

[Bubbles] OMG AZZY. IT'S REALLY GOOD. GET OVER HERE!

She was back to her normal, bubbly self.

[Alex] Morning. Breakfast?

[Bubbles] Duh! We're in the big hut, come on!

I stretched and tried to bring some order to my muddled thoughts. The summoning. The camp. The monsters. It hadn't occurred to me yesterday, but wasn't it strange that they were all so... recognizable? Kobolds, Goblins, Orcs. They were all common fantasy races from games and stories on Earth. One of about a hundred mysteries that needed answering.

Looking down at my breastplate beside the bed, I let out a sigh. The thought of donning the restrictive armour first thing in the morning appealed not at all, but going without the protection seemed worse. Until I figured out the magic of this world, I would be vulnerable.

[Alex] On my way.

Exiting my hut, I began to trace my way back to where we had eaten the night before. In the light of the new day, the village was almost unrecognizable. Walking along the dirt path between huts, I spotted a small circle of orcs seated on rocks and stumps outside one hut ahead of me. As I neared, I realized several held babies wrapped in small bundles, while others picked the rooty ends off a small green plant resembling chives. And another was de-feathering a goose-like bird.

As I moved closer to the group, one of them spotted me and drew the others' attention to the strange foreigner. Their chatter immediately quieted, and 5 pairs of black eyes stared silently at me.

Never one to bear silence, I summoned my courage and greeted them. "Good morning!"

"Borg ni nalathet" one murmured.

"Ta ting bu dong" another replied.

Their words were unintelligible. Evidently, without Seressha nearby, the Naga's translation magic was no longer working.

"Sorry, I don't understand. Uh...Have a nice day!" I replied, hurrying past them with a wave.

Internally, I was kicking myself. 'What sorry. What Have a nice day. You're a Dread Lord, Alex. Get it together! If I can't even act the part in front of a group of Orc... housewives? how will I convince anyone?' Resolving myself to commit to the roleplay, I continued toward the meal hut.

Right...right... left... I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere in my haste because I soon arrived at an unfamiliar open clearing. Unable to ask for directions, nor wanting to diminish my stature by admitting I was anywhere other than where I intended to be, I straightened my posture and cast my gaze out across the area. 'See here the powerful Dread Lord as he assesses his domain! Quiver, ye mortal labourers before my might and majesty.'

I felt the gaze of a few nearby Orcs settle on me before resuming their tasks. In reality, they seemed closer to mildly curious than awe-struck.

Just as I was preparing to message Bubbles and ask for directions, I spotted Krelnar on the far side of the clearing, conversing with a group of 4 Orcs.

The Kobold Priest had mentioned a book of prophecy that held the summoning ritual. Figuring this was as good a place as any to begin investigating this world's magic, I made over to ask him about it.

As I neared, I noticed something off about the situation. Krelnar's tail was between his legs, his head bowed, and his body language submissive. Krelnar was accompanied by two smaller Kobolds who I thought of as his aides, and all appeared equally cowed. Meanwhile, the leader of the Orc group appeared to ooze menace.

I paused a fair distance away. I certainly didn't want to get involved in any conflict, and I reasoned that without a means to communicate any attempt to intervene would only complicate matters.

One of the smaller Kobolds must have seen me because it scuttled up and hissed something to Krelnar, whose eyes momentarily flicked to me. A few more words were exchanged between Krelnar and the Orc, but whatever was said was not to his liking, because with a growl it reached out and snatched Krelnar up by the neck. The priest's legs danced in the air as he was lifted and brought face to face with the snarling Orc.

The smaller kobold stepped forward to paw at the Orc's leg, presumably begging for mercy. The leg, which was thicker around than the Kobold's torso, kicked out, sending the small Kobold flying into a nearby hut's wall. The other 3 Orcs let out grunting sounds. Laughter?

Before I knew what I was doing, I found myself stepping forward "Hey, Stop that!" I called out.

The Orc turned to face me, its lips drawn back exposing tusks and teeth in a fierce snarl. Its eyes locked with mine, and I almost took a step back upon seeing the intensity of fury they held.

Shit. I looked around the clearing. Wasn't anyone going to step in and stop this? Suddenly, I realized there was no one else nearby. They had subtly retreated inside and were now peering out from behind the fur entrance flaps of their homes. The few who remained outside seemed to be actively not looking in this direction, intently watching out of the corner of their eyes while pretending they were unaware of what was going on. Fucking cowards. Fine.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

I turned back to face the group of Orc thugs and took another step forward. Still several meters away, their leader's body odor slammed into me like a physical wave. It was all I could do not to gag as the sour scent soaked my naval cavities and pushed down my throat.

"Put him down" I choked out, my eyes starting to water. I gestured at Krelnar, and then to the ground. I knew the Orc wouldn't understand my words, but hoped my tone and gestures would be enough to convey meaning, and my authority as a 'Dread Lord' would be enough to make it obey.

I felt myself shivering. Had the air gotten colder? No, I realized. I was having a mild anxiety attack. How could I be so confident and play this role perfectly in-game, but now it was a reality I was falling apart? I felt my teeth begin to chatter. I clenched my jaw tight and hoped the Orc wouldn't see what a nervous wreck I was inside.

The Orc's tense posture seemed to relax slightly, then its frown shifted into a grin of malicious compliance.

"Bie guai wo bu ke qi le." the huge Orc grumbled in a low tone as if speaking to itself.

The next moment, Krelnar was sailing through the air. Tossed away like a used tissue, his tail whipped around in the air as he attempted to land on his feet, but I heard a distinct 'crack' followed by a whimper as he hit and rolled on the hardpacked dirt.

I winced. That had to hurt, but I had my own problems to deal with. Undaunted by the fact he was facing down a supposed 'Dread Lord' the avalanche of flesh was advancing towards me, its elephant-like legs eating up the distance between us in moments.

I reflexively took a step back. It was only small, but I recognized the mistake as soon as it was made; I'd just admitted weakness in the face of a threat that demanded a show of strength. The Orc realized it too. It's eyes flashed with sadistic pleasure. It was a look I'd seen all too often on the faces of my schoolyard bullies. The memories stirred feelings of powerlessness and frustration that I thought I'd left behind decades ago. It pissed me off.

"Enough" I snarled. Pushing off my back foot, I reversed my momentum and stepped forward instead. If there was ever a time for me to unlock my magic, wasn't this it? Yesterday I was tired. Now, anger honed my focus to a pinprick. I cast my hand out in an aggressive gesture, and casting all the frustrations of the past day into an image of flames, I spoke: "Ignis!"

For a moment, the world paused.

I, with my hand outstretched.

The Orc, one step forward into its advance.

The Orc's eyes widened, looking side to side.

I held my breath.

Then the moment passed; nothing happened.

The Orc's grin returned wider and darker than before. Oh Crap.

The Orc took another step closer. 200 kilograms of fat and muscle was bearing down on me, all of it filled with the intent to do me harm. A sensation like ice jolted from my palms up to my armpits. It was a sensation I would feel many more times in the years to come; that of absolute terror. Of witnessing a plan go so catastrophically wrong, and having no way to avert the coming disaster.

I stood frozen like a deer in headlights as the Orc's hand reached for me. Nay, a deer is too elegant a descriptor; I was a rabbit frozen as the talons of an eagle descended to break my neck. My eyes flinched closed, my face screwed into a grimace in anticipation of the imminent pain.

I felt the brush of calloused fingers on my cheeks as they made to close around my face. But then suddenly the Orc roared. The hand jerked away, and I opened my eyes to see a ghostly wall of purple-white fire roaring to life between us.

"WO DE SHOU--- MY HAND! MY BLOODY HAND! You Piss-swilling spellslinger! you burnt off my bloody hand!' the Orc roared.

I stood stunned as the Orc's unintelligible screams took on meaning. I turned to look behind me and saw Bubbles zipping towards us, with Seressha and Grunt, the tribe's leader, following up behind.

Seressha's arrival explained my sudden comprehension of the Orc's words. For a moment, I questioned the validity of the translation spell that had turned the creature's grunting into 'you piss-swilling spellslinger', and was that an Irish accent? ...Another mystery for the list.

"Leave Krelnar alone!" Bubbles said, coming to float above my right shoulder.

I turned back to the Orc. As quickly as the wall of flame appeared, it was gone, leaving him kneeling on the ground clutching at his forearm. It didn't appear to be burned but was evidently causing great pain.

"That fire... that was you?" I asked in a quiet aside to Bubbles.

"Mmm-hmm. Gucci AF, right? Praise me more."

"Yeah..." I replied in a daze. That she could do magic--powerful magic--while I was stubbornly unable to... it made me feel both reassured and strangely uncomfortable.

"Father, my hand!" the Orc cried out to Grunt as he and Seresha reached us.

"Father?" I asked, looking between the two. I didn't recognize the Orc from our dinner yesterday, but there was a clear resemblence.

Grunt frowned down at the kneeling Orc, apparently his son. "Grog, what is meaning of this?" he asked.

Still clutching his forearm, my assailant--Grog--rose to his feet with teary eyes. "He attacked me, is piss-swilling spellslinger!" he accused.

Well, actually that was Bubbles, but I saw no reason to correct the misunderstanding.

"You hurt Krelnar." I replied coldly. I looked over to the old priest, who was only now rising unsteadily to his feet.

The Orc sneered. "He is [Kobold]."

I blinked. The word felt heavy in my mind, pregnant with meaning. I grabbed ahold of the slippery sensation, and layers of nuance began to unfurl; the word the Orc had used was Skal'shruk; a derogatory term for the Kobolds, meaning something like 'trash lizard' or 'servant lizard.' It held connotations of derision, contempt, and an inherent belief in Orc superiority over the weaker races.

Returning my attention to the present, I felt a lingering understanding in my mind. This translation spell was a lot more useful than I'd given Seressha credit for.

"Enough. Go." Grunt said, dismissing his son.

"But father--!" Grog began, a hint of whine entering the otherwise intimidating Orc's voice. A thought struck me. How old was this mountain of meat? Was this the Orc equivalent of a teenager? That was a frightening thought. In some fantasy games, Orcs and Goblins matured far faster than humans... Had I been about to get my arse handed to me by a child?

"Go! Now!" Grunt continued, his voice taking on a steely tone. "You attack a guest? A Dreadlord? No. You will leave. I will not see you again today. Go. Go see healer. Bring no more shame to Hollow-Trunk tribe today."

Grog growled back and replied through gritted teeth "Fine, we go." He turned from his father and addressed his 3 lackeys "Come, this place stupid anyway. Stupid stinking spellslinger and stupid stinking Kobold."

The Orcs left, and Krelnar limped over. He picked up his cane, then dropped into a deep bow before me.

"My deepest apologies, Dread Lord. I have shamed myself with such a display."

I took him in for a moment, my lips pressed tight. I found it uncomfortable to be apologized to so profusely, but that was Alex the computer guy talking. How would Alex the Dread Lord reply in this situation? I thought for a moment before speaking. "Stand, Krelnar. You have nothing to apologize for; the fault lies with the Orc."

I turned my gaze to watch the group leave.

"Thank you, Lord. As ever you are most gracious with this servant." Krelnar replied.

As the Orcs made to round a hut, Grog turned back one final time and met my eyes with a dark look. It was a look that told me this was not over, and a promise of pain to come.

I'd made an enemy that day. He would be the first of many.