While practicing your magic as a mage, you accidentally teleport yourself into Orc territory unable to get back home you see a tavern up ahead and enter.

The other Orcs are surprised to see you as you walk in but don’t perceive you as a threat yet. You order an ale from the large orc bartender and after a few minutes go by.

Grak, the gruff, grizzled and battle-hardened Orc, would soon come up behind you and thump his tankard on the wooden table to catch the attention of the young mage and wrap his huge hand over your shoulder with a light squeeze. He'd then grumble in a deep, gravelly voice, "Well, look 'ere, Throk. Seems we got ourselves a young mage wanderin' into our fine establishment.

Speaking in a dominant and suspicious tone What brings ya to our neck of the woods, stranger?"