A fist. It crashed into his face with so much force Malcolm was surprised his newly formed nose didn't break.

It materialized out of nowhere, giving Malcolm no time at all to dodge it. He reared back, a stream of curses flowing from his mouth as he grabbed at his already bleeding nose. At the corner of his vision he could see that his health bar dropped by 10 points.

"Did ya see that? Little bugger jumped right at me!" A gruff voice said above him. "Oh, isn't he a pretty one."

Malcolm squinted his eyes against the sun and could barely make out the man who had assaulted him. It must have been a trick of the light, but he could have sworn the man had dark green skin. But as his vision began to focus, he knew exactly what he was looking at, an orc.

The man was over 8 feet tall. His skin was a dark shade of green, his eyes were bloodshot red, the hair on top of his head was muddy red. There were also a cluster of festering pimples and lumps decorating his face. A set of two yellow fangs jutted from his bottom lip, giving him a wicked underbite.

"Oi, what's this? Ain't dat a human?" Hollered a shrill voice.

"Ain't never seen a human with such dark skin!"

"Must be some kind of variant, could be worth a lot of gold."

Malcolm's eyes bulged as he noticed the other four towering orcs behind the one that had hit him, they all had similar builds and the same shit-eating grin on their lips that showed off their crooked fanged teeth. They reminded Malcolm of Shrek, if Shrek had moved from his swamp to the local gym and drank a gallons' worth of muscle milk. Wait, Shrek was an Ogre not an Orc.

"Nah," Grumbled the orc with the lumpy face. It dug a finger into its pig-like nose and flung a lump of snot against the cave wall. "Can't be no human, they are all extinct. Must be a mirage or something"

"Now, hold on! I am real, and I'd appreciate it if you would back the hell up off me!" Malcolm spat a wad of blood at the orc's feet. The green bastard had just socked him in the nose for no good reason and now they were all talking around him like he wasn't even there.

"What the?" One of the orcs grunted in confusion. "How is it talking to us? We're speaking Orcish!"

"Ain't no way a human could understand our language!"

"Must be a demon is disguise, lets peel its skin!"

"Finally, some meat! Getting sick of eating weevils!"

"Save me a piece of the neck meat!"

"Neck meat? No, it's the inner thigh that has the best meat!"

"You are both morons! It's all about the meat around the ankles, fucking delicious!"

All the orcs began to close in on him, closing off any chance of escape. Malcolm took several steps back. Quickly he brought up his status and read his skills. His eyes scanned the window until they locked on to what he was searching for. Oh, shit. Time to be diplomatic!

"Wait! Hold on, it's just my Gift of Tongues ability! I'm not a demon! Just let me leave. "

His Gift of Tongue ability was apparently automatic and allowed him to instantly understand and learn whatever language was spoken or written around him. A useful skill, if it wasn't going to be the main reason he was about to get jumped by a gang of orcs.

The orcs standing around him seemed to all gasp in surprise and stared down at Malcolm with a strange glint in their eyes that made him feel uneasy.

The lead orc, the one with the lumpy face, raised his hand to halt the others. It squinted its red eyes at Malcolm, as if by glaring it could discern whether he was telling the truth or not. Then a crude smile spread over its lumpy face.

"A human with such a rare ability would sell for a lot of gold. Pack him up. We'll take him back to camp with us. Barolo will decide what we do with him." The orc turned to leave the cave, nodding to one of the others that had pulled out a net.

"Sell?" Malcolm said in bewilderment. In his mind's eye all he could see was himself standing on a stage as a crowd shouted out miniscule amounts of money for his life. "No. No fucking way! You aren't selling me to anyone!"

He drew his hunting knife and slashed at the air in front of him, the orcs closest to him stepped back slightly. A small bud of confidence began to bloom in him as he began to think he stood a chance.

He didn't.

The difference in level was just too much. With a grunt of frustration, the lead Orc turned on Malcolm. The large orc moved with such power and ferocity that Malcolm didn't even see the brute draw his own blade.

Malcolm yelped as his hunting knife was forcibly knocked out of his hand. His chest tightened as he watched the knife fly and embed itself in the sand on the other side of the orcs. He'd have to somehow get through the heavily armed orcs just to reach it now.

"P-perhaps we could just talk this over?" Malcolm gave them a wavering grin. His heart was hammering wildly in his chest, he was beyond terrified. This was not how he envisioned his new life ending. Hell, he'd just started! Could this have anything to do with his low level in the Luck attribute? Was he now just extremely unlucky? Figures.

To Malcolm's surprise a small prompt appeared in from of him.

You have attempted to use Persuasion on Orc Group Leader.

Persuasion is a perk that is part of the Speechcraft skill tree.

Congratulations you have learned Speechcraft level 1.

Your level in Speechcraft is not high enough to use Persuasion effectively. Increase your Charisma attribute to better improve your Speechcraft.

Persuasion Failed.

"Oh sh-"

A fist crashed into his jaw, the sheer force of the blow caused him to spin. Before he could regain his feet, another orc grabbed him by the shoulders and bashed his forehead against Malcolm's face. He could feel his nose breaking with the new explosion of pain.

Whimpering in pain, Malcolm cradled his ruined face. Blood drained from his drooling mouth and now crocked nose. A shriek filled the air and one of the orcs lunged towards him, its foot connected with Malcolm's gut. He gasped as he was lifted off the ground and crashed into the cave wall.

A chorus of joyful laughter erupted from the orcs as they saw tears beginning to flow out of Malcolm's eyes. They all closed in on him then. All Malcolm could see was an avalanche of feet as they began stomping him.

With a whistle, Lump Face called the others off Malcolm, he then leaned in close. A lopsided grin on his lips. "Not so pretty now, are you?"

Malcolm tried to speak, to scream defiance at the hideous orc, but his jaw wasn't working right so he did the next best thing. He spat a gunk of blood onto the orc's face.

The orcs face turned a shade darker as he wiped the spit off his face. "Ya shouldn't have done that."

Again, a fist filled Malcolm's vision, then everything went black.

The orcs camp was large and dusty. The scorching heat of the desert and the crowd of sweaty bodies made a potent stench that hung heavily in the air.

When Malcolm had regained consciousness, he had found himself chained to a stone hitching post. Right in the middle of the orcs camp. They have me chained up like a fucking animal!? They had even set a bowl of murky water and a plate of moldy bread beside him.

He spat venom at the orcs and nearly managed to bite one of their fingers off when the bastard tried to pet him. From where Malcolm was chained up, he could see that he wasn't the only captive being held by the orcs. There had to be over a hundred-people crowded in iron barred cages.

To his surprise, he could see that none of them were human. It seemed that most of the caged slaves were elves. They had long pointed ears and sharp angular faces. There was also a speckle of shorter people mixed in with them, Malcolm guessed they were Dwarves. They looked like what you'd expect a dwarf to look like, short, burly, and hairy.

He also noticed how the slaves were separated by age and gender, his stomach flipped in disgust and dread as he saw a cage full of children. He could see a small elven girl slumped in the corner of the cage, cheeks stained from old tears and eyes vacant. By god, this world is beyond fucked up.

All the captives shared the same broken expressions, dirty clothes, and emaciated body frames. When Malcolm had first seen them, a sense of dread and panic took hold of him and he tried to break out of his bonds. His resistance was futile, the iron cuffs were old and rusted but more than strong enough to hold him.

The orcs had left him by the post and told him that they'd be back soon with the one they called Barolo. Over an hour had passed, the sun was still high in the sky and intense heat was beating down on Malcolm with considerable weight. His throat was beginning to dry, he eyed the murky water bowl with weary suspicion. With his hands cuffed behind his back towards the post, he'd have to bend over and lap at the water like a damned animal. This was not how things were supposed to turn out, Malcolm thought to himself. Got to get the hell out of here.

The chains connected to the cuffs were thick iron, so he knew he wouldn't be able to break them, but the post was stone. The post was a cylindrical slab of rough stone with a metal ring that the chain was latched to, the chain may have been thick but the ring that connected it to the post was thin.

"Don't even think about it, boy." A deep voice spoke up behind him. "That's Elder steel, far stronger than that chain. It'd take more than double your meager level of strength to even warp the shape of it."

Malcolm snapped his head around to face a towering orc. This one was nearly a head taller than the others and twice as wide. While the others were mostly muscle, this one was a blubbery mass. Even now the green slob was stuffing its mouth with an oddly large roasted turkey leg.

This must be their leader, the one they called Barolo.

"Also, it's magical properties will disable that magic bag of yours," Lump Face spoke up. "We can't take it from you, but now you can't access it either."

"A bag of holding?" Barolo eyed the bag still strapped over Malcolm's shoulder. "Yes, a very good catch." He turned to Lump Face. "Feel free to pick yourself a playmate for the night from the cages". He patted the other orc on the shoulder.

Malcolm wasn't sure what that entailed, but it made his skin crawl just hearing the way Barolo said it.

"Yes, Chieftain!" Lump Face said with a notable hint of delight in his voice.

Barolo dismissed him with a wave, then got close to Malcolm and examined him shrewdly, his eyes were a deeper red than the others. His skin was also a tad darker shade of green, and his two fanged teeth were larger making them look more like tusk.

"So, you're the special human, eh?" Barolo's hot breath washed over Malcolm.

Malcolm's eyes started to water as he gagged on the orc's rank breath.

Barolo laughed when he saw Malcolm's reaction, then brought up the turkey leg he held in one of his meaty fists and chomped into it. Juices from the roasted meat and slobber dripped from the Chieftains chubby chin.

"Answer me, boy! I know you can understand me!" Spittle sprayed from the large orcs mouth showering Malcolm. "A slave with such an ability-"

Malcolm spat at Barolo's feet, then looked the orc in the eyes. An adamant glare locked on his face as he spoke. "I'll never be your slave! I'll never be anyone's slave! NEVER."

My ancestors didn't go through hundreds of years of slavery, just for me to get sent to another world must deal with it myself. Fuck that nonsense! Malcolm's glare deepened.

The large orc looked stunned for a moment, beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he took in Malcolm's fierce stare. Barolo looked around uneasily, he could feel his fellow orcs watching him intently looking for a sign of weakness.

As an Orc Chieftain, to show any form of weakness or fear would be sending an invitation for another orc to overthrow him. Not to mention the countless sets of eyes peering in their direction from the slave cages, he couldn't have them seeing a mere human cause him to pause.

"You've got grit for a human, I'll give you that," Barolo said with a slight nob, then continued. "But you'll be a slave if I want you to be a slave!"

Barolo kicked Malcolm in the jaw causing a spray of blood to fling from his mouth. Malcolm tumbled for a distance until the chain that was latched to his cuffs forced him to stop.

"And no, you won't be a slave." Barolo huffed, then took another bite out of his turkey leg. "You'll be entertainment! Leave him here at the center of the camp, make sure the others can see him! Let's see how long you can hold on to that grit, human."

Barolo turned to leave, an entourage of orcs following close behind him. One single thought branded itself in the forefront of Malcolm's brain, he had to escape as soon as possible.

New Quest available!

Quest: Bound by Chains

Info: You have foolishly gotten yourself captured by a tribe of Orc Slavers. Escape before you are sold or killed.

Objectives:

() Free yourself

() Kill "Lump Face" (Optional)

() Kill Barolo (Optional)

Reward: 5000 XP, and your freedom.

Malcolm glared intensely at the lead orc as he wobbled away. A wicked sneer crumpling his face as he spat out blood.

Quest Accepted!