After the curly-haired woman had made her very shapely behind scarce, I stared into the space she’d recently occupied and scowled.

“What sort of bullshit is that?” I wondered aloud in my now wonderfully rich baritone.

There were some perks of this new existence, to be sure, and that short list included my advanced procreative-sounding timbre, but things like this—folks magically appearing and disappearing—were beginning to tap dance on my tension bone.

“Alright,” I said to myself, “fuck that. Fuck this. I don’t need to deal with magicians right now, I have a new body and a new world to explore.”

I looked down at the bag laying in the dirt and sighed.

“May as well check this out, but if I stick my hand in there and something bites it, I’m going to open untold pain on that woman.”

I’m not sure why I was speaking aloud—I wasn’t the type to do that, normally. However, with my new found range of depth and a sound like honey poured over thunder—if I did say so myself—I think I was just trying to get some mileage out of it. So, I continued.

“Alright, bag,” I said. “I don’t like you, and you don’t like me, but apparently you’ll be able to help me out in this world, and so I want to become allies. Savvy?”

I stared at the satchel, half expecting it to respond—it was a magical world after all. But, it just remained slouched against the earth, inanimate as the day it was stitched together—which by the looks of it was hundreds of years ago. It was worn, frayed and the color of sun bleached snake skin, and I had the sneaking suspicion that it would be stinky.

However, with no response from the obviously-not-a-secret-creature, I cleared my throat and called out while I reached forward.

“Here we go!”

Nothing happened.

I sighed and opened the bag, still trying to wrap my mind around the odd predicament I’d magicked myself into. I’d made the decision to just go with whatever it was that was transpiring around me, so this was--in my mind--going to be very interesting.

I was a little disappointed in the contents if I was being perfectly honest. Inside the hollow of the leather satchel were a few items, none of them particularly interesting or eye-catching. I removed the first object: a small yellow stone encased in bright silver. It was roughly the size of a gumball and the lustrous metal had a winged shape with ornate folds intimating fantastic detail that distinctly resembled a butterfly.

Cute.

However, the moment I laid my eyes on the glittering yellow gem in the center of the piece, I saw a curious blip in the corner of my vision. I focused on it--like I had done with the constellation--and suddenly, a banner appeared in front of me.

Kameas of Analysis

Rarity: Ultra Rare

Item Class: Enhancement

Durability: 1/1

Weight: N/A

This Kameas is one of many that confer an Ability to the user. Accessing this item will grant the Analysis Ability. Some gifts are not meant to be looked at in the mouth—however, this one is designed for that specific purpose. Hence why this is the first message of its type.

I rolled my eyes. At least this message seemed consistent with the type of visual effect I was used to in video games.

Another banner appeared.

Use Kameas of Analysis now?

Yes / No

“Well, I don’t see why not,” I said aloud and mentally selected “yes.” There was a musical confirmation and then the glinting object disappeared in a very dramatic flash of blue and violet light.

Congratulations! You have gained a new Ability!

Gained Analysis [F-Rank Level 1]

This feature grants the user the ability to view detail on low-level items. Raise the competency of this Ability to widen the scope of assessment.

I couldn’t help but let what I assume would be a vomit-inducing smile cross my orc face. This was very game-like, and I was glad that I’d grabbed this item before any of the others in the bag. Speaking of which, I still needed to know what other tchotchkes were inside of the goody-bag, so I decided to put my new ability to good use. I reached inside of the satchel and pulled out a coil of dirty rope. I wasn’t sure how long it was, but less than a second after I even considered that, another banner appeared.

Well-used Rope (30 ft.)

Rarity: Pedestrian

Item Class: Tool

Durability: 7/20

Weight: 1.4 lbs.

A worn thirty-foot coil of hempen rope. Good for climbing, lugging, carrying, or tying up enemies. Seems like it might only be good for a short adventure before it gives out.

I dropped the rope to the ground, and continued to pull items from the sack, looking over the details of each before letting them tumble to the earth as well.

There was a ratty fur cape, a smaller bag made of leather, an empty water skin, and a wooden box with parceled out pieces of dried meat.

Bedraggled Cloak

Rarity: Pedestrian

Item Class: Cloak

Durability: 10/15

Weight: 7.1 lbs.

Bonus: +1 versus chill

A simple garment designed to protect the user from some of the more inclimate weather of Regaia. Smells a bit odd, doesn’t it?

Simple Leather Coin Purse

Rarity: Pedestrian

Item Class: Pouch

Durability: N/A

Weight: .01 lbs

It’s for carrying your baubles and vittles, maybe even a coin or two if you get so lucky.

Lambstomach Water Skin

Rarity: Pedestrian

Item Class: Tool

Durability: N/A

Weight: .03 lbs

Don’t let the material quality deter you from taking a sip from this life-saving object, it actually holds quite a lot!

Rations [x5]

Rarity: Pedestrian

Item Class: Food

Durability: 5/5

Weight: 1 lb.

Bonus: -50% Hunger for 8 hours

A bit of dried deer jerky that will last a little less than a week if you only consume one per day. Doesn’t seem like much, especially for someone your size.

The snarkiness of the messages I had been receiving was annoying, but not surprising. My only two interactions since arriving had thrown a lot of salt my way. Why would this be any different?

“Fuck this place,” I said aloud, and dug into the sack for whatever else I could find. There was only one more item inside, but it made me smile.

Shoddy Hatchet

Rarity: Pedestrian

Item Class: Tool / One-handed Simple Weapon

Durability: 10/40

Weight: 2.3 lbs.

Damage: 3 - 4 Slashing

Bonuses: N/A

A simple workman’s hatchet, designed for little else but routine carpentry and forestry. I suppose you could hit someone with it if you really wanted to make them mad?

"Well, how about that," I said aloud and heard the empty echo of my voice return to me. I lifted the hatchet up so that it was level with my eyes, curled a tight, meaty fist around the handle, and squeezed. I could feel the texture of the wood's rough cut and the firmness of its unyielding shape. It was an ugly bastard, but then again, so was I.

"It feels real," I said, smirking. "Maybe ole Bubble boy was on to something?"

I gave the hatchet a few test swipes, listening to the whistle as it sliced through the air. It seemed dull, but it also looked like it would still hurt like a son-of-a-bitch to get hit with. I spotted a nearby tree and, getting an idea, hefted the weapon and then hurled it towards the trunk. The hatchet whipped end-over-end for a few feet before clattering uselessly into the dirt.

I chuckled.

"Still got it."

I retrieved the hatchet and, after returning to my previous position, tried throwing it again. The spinning projectile traveled roughly the same distance before crashing to the hard dirt with a loud clang. I sighed. However, as I moved to retrieve the piece once more, I saw a notification spring up in my vision.

Congratulations! You have gained a new Skill!

Throwing Weapons (F-Rank Level 1)

You now can use basic weapons designed to be thrown or those with the multipurpose use of becoming an emergency ranged attack. This is a Dexterity-based Skill and will become more powerful as you grow in that Attribute. The outcome for efficiency is Throwing Weapons Skill + Dexterity quotient. This skill does not work on non-traditional weapons. Aim accordingly.

"Huh, well, what do you know?" I mused. "I'm a fucking savant. Now I just have to figure out what any of that really means."

I wasn't stupid. Well, strike that—yes I was—but even being a moron, I knew that my Dexterity value was painfully low at the moment. But that was okay. I had the Constitution benefit from my spiteful selection. I'd be fine. Probably.

I decided to see if I could somehow increase my skill with the weapon further. It made sense enough to me. If throwing it caused me to gain the talent, doing it again should raise it, right?

After retrieving the hatchet once more, I got into position and lifted the hatchet for another toss. I noticed I could gauge its weight better, and it felt more firm in my hand. I smiled.

"Oh hell yeah," I said, happy with my perceived progress. "I'll be shaving ponytails from afar before sunrise!"

I chucked the hatchet again and watched as this time it went a few more feet than it had the last two. However, as it hit the ground in this instance, the blade struck the hard earth with a resounding crunch, and I watched as the hatchet head snapped in half.

"Are you kidding me?!" I shouted, marching over to the weapon to examine the extent of the damage. It was ruined. The edge of the bladed head had broken into jagged teeth, while the actual flat of it had split in two. Pieces of sharp metal littered the area around where the hatchet had landed, and I kicked some loose dirt over the mess with a grunt. Then I hunkered down—with much more difficulty than I used to due to the height disparity—and snatched up the handle. The middle and back of the head still clung to the wood, but it was loose and jingled around atop the shaft.

I tossed the pieces away from me and scowled.

"Well, that's brilliant," I said. "Now I don't even have a weapon."

"No weapon?"

I froze in place. The voice that had called out to me was a rough snarl, teeming with terrible mirth.

I heard some rustling behind me but didn't move. I listened intently, but while I knew more than one ‘somethings’ were approaching, I couldn't tell how many. My back was to the voice, so swallowing the lump in my throat, I decided the best course of action would be to face whatever it was that seemed to find my predicament so funny. So I did. I slowly turned, adopting as calm of an expression as I could, and scanned the trees around me as I searched for the source of the interruption.

It was easy to see.

Four shapes lumbered into view, each with a prowling gate that told me they were definitely not interested in a long conversation about mutual interests. They were bestial, in some fashion, but stood on two legs. They had long noses, upright ears and appeared very mouse-like in their presentation.

No, not mice. Rats. Sort of.

Each individual wore a motley of different clothing over coarse brown fur with black stripes creating a brindle-style coat. Their eyes were deadly golden slits, and as they drew near, one of them smiled, revealing two rows of razor-sharp teeth.

I shall dub thee, Smiley.

Smiley had a sword belted to his side, and I noticed the others had various armaments as well. These weren't your run-of-the-mill rats, to be sure. These particular creatures had figured out how to belt on their boots and britches, and what was potentially more problematic—open doors. They were all observing me with the same calculating look—and as I've established, I hated people that tried to size me up. I grimaced and stood to my full height and squared my shoulders.

No reason to show them that I'm not prepared for this sort of interaction so early on.

"Ah," one of them said. Of the four, this creature was the smallest and missing a piece of an ear. "He's a big pup, that one."

"Orc," noted another with a bit of gray around his muzzle.

“Right,” Small Fry corrected. “Big orc.”

These guys were really planting their flag on top of Mount Obvious, weren't they?

"Perceptive gents," I said, trying hard to ensure my voice didn't quake. "How can I help you?"

"Oh," said the Smiler, and I recognized his voice as the one who'd initially startled me. "We are merely passersby. We did not mean to frighten you."

The ratman's tone set me on edge. It sounded very much like I imagined a carnivorous creature might once it stumbled upon its prey.

"No worries!" I said, attempting a smile. "You didn't scare me. Your voice just bears a striking resemblance to my mother's."

Smiler seemed to find my comment amusing and grinned a little wider, letting out a small cough that I guess was meant to be a laugh.

"It is always interesting to see how creatures act," the ratman said, still moving slowly toward me but skirting to the side. "Curious."

"Am I?" I asked.

"Indeed," said Smiler.

"Care to elaborate?"

I could tell the group was trying to surround me, but it was likely they were cautious because… well, I was a big-ass fucking orc. I knew I would be damn sure to be careful as hell interacting with one, but maybe they thought they'd have strength in numbers?

"It is curious because we do not encounter many orcs here in the hill nest," he continued, his eyes still locked with mine.

"Yeah," I said with a sad nod. "Wouldn't you know it? I got lost. Would you believe a bird swooped down and snatched my map right out of my hands? Kind of rude."

"He talks well for an orc," said the fourth ratman who hadn't spoken up until now. His voice was almost an octave deeper than any of the others.

"That he does," Smiler said.

"Thanks," I said, trying to ease my own tension. "You all speak well too for… well, what are you exactly?"

That made Smiler laugh a little harder.

"You don't know the Grelok?" Deep Voice asked.

"Can't say I've had the pleasure."

"Oh," Smiler said, dangerously. "The pleasure is all ours."

I felt a sudden compulsion to turn and run but found that now they'd completed the circle and were closing in on me. Smiler's eyes shifted, but I couldn't react fast enough as he darted forward with astounding speed and struck at me with his blade. It pierced my abdomen, burying itself deep into my guts, and I felt a pain like none other.

I let out a loud bark of agony and saw my Health bar screaming at me in the corner of my vision, and below it was the symbol of a drop of red blood.

10 / 140 Health remaining!

Condition: Bleeding

Will continue to lose Health while suffering from this effect at a rate of 1 per 10 seconds.

A single hit had brought me down this low? What sort of creatures were these, and how powerful were they in comparison to my own level? Wasn't I supposed to be a lot tougher than this? I mean, what was the fucking purpose of adding all those Points into my Constitution score if I was just going to go out like a punk? I'd only been here for ten minutes, and already this place sucked.

The little rat-men chortled as their leader shoved the blade into my belly and the sound was agony to my temper. It reminded me of those toadies that sometimes hung around bullies. While the bigger one would twist your arm behind your back until you wanted to cry, the smaller ones--safe in their submissive position--would laugh at your pain. It made me mad.

Like, really mad.

I felt the familiar sensation of anger bubble up from my chest, increased by the pain in my belly until it became a hot fire that tore its way out of my throat. I was screaming, but not in pain or fear. No, as my vision began to tunnel, I saw a notification pop up, and I read what it said as another peal of thunder crackled loudly above us and released a torrent of rain:

PRIMAL RAGE