"Excuse me, sir!" I said to the Elf, using my imaginary microphone hand.
"Hi, I'm Silas. Quick question for the audience at home, on a scale of one to ten, how much is this action ruining your vibe right now?"
The Elf blinked, his long ears twitching from shock. He looked from me to the camera, and then to the angry Orc in the end.
"Uh... eleven?"
"Eleven! You heard it here first, folks!" I spun around to face the Orcs, who were now staring at me like I was a mental patient who had escaped the asylum.
"Now, let's get a comment from the aggressors. You, the big green gentleman with the breath that smells like old wine!"
I got right in the lead Orc's face. The camera zoomed in tight on his confused, angry pores.
"Is it true that you're bullying this Elf because of deep-seated insecurities regarding your own insecurities? Or is it just the classic 'I peaked in high school' syndrome? Chat wants to know!"
The Orc's face turned a darker shade of green.
"I'm gonna rip your head off and feed it to the rats."
[Views: 450]
[Donation: 5 Gold Coins from 'Chaos_Lover69']
[Message: LMAO, is he suicidal? Do it again!]
A warmth filled my chest. I never received a donation in the real world.
[DING]
[System Alert: First Donation Received.]
[Skill Unlocked: 'The Troll's Dodge' (Level 1) - Increases reflex speed by 200% when mocking an opponent.]
I grinned. A real, genuine grin this time.
"Rip my head off?" I laughed, checking my nails. "That's a bit cliché, isn't it? I expected better writing from a guy wearing that much leather."
The fist came flying at my face with the speed human eyes couldn't see. Okay, maybe it was actually fast, fast enough to flatten a normal person, but my brain did a weird thing.
A weird sensation felt up the back of my neck, like a sudden shiver or the feeling you get when you realise you forgot to turn the oven off, but physically helpful. It was the "spider tingle," except powered by pure internet sarcasm.
I just leaned my body back.
The Orc's knuckles breezed past my nose, disturbing the air but leaving my beautiful, average face completely intact. It's momentum carried him forward, and he stumbled, looking at his own hand in betrayal.
"Missed me!" I said, pivoting on my heel to keep the camera, the giant, unblinking eyeball, focused on the Orc's baffled expression.
"Chat, did you see that hook? You could have written a letter in the time for your missing father it taken to wind up! Zero out of ten for technique!"
[Views: 1,200]
[Chat: LOL is this guy for real? He's got moves! Is that a skill?]
The view count was climbing faster than the blood pressure of the Orc in front of me. He shouted, a sound that was less 'fearsome predator' and more 'toddler denied candy,' and scrambled to regain his balance.
"Get him!" he screamed to his buddies, spit flying everywhere.
"Smash him into nothing! Break the fucking camera!"
"Whoa, whoa, parental guidance!" I yelled, wagging a finger at the lens.
"Can you believe this, folks? Is there no law in this city? No constables? No guards? Just three oversized bullies trying to assault independent media? This is why our property values are dimming! I am just a humble reporter trying to expose the truth, and this is the thanks I get?"
The other two Orcs, who were definitely not hired for their brains, cracked their knuckles and charged. It was like watching a swimming routine performed by angry mixers. They came at me from three sides, fists flying, boots stomping, chains rattling.
But the Troll's Dodge was no joke. I realised the trick: as long as I kept running my mouth, my body moved on its own. It was like being possessed by a ninja who was also a stand-up comedian.
One Orc swung a heavy iron chain at my head, but I ducked, shouting, "A little off the top, please!" and the chain wrapped around his friend's neck instead.
The friend choked and tried to kick me, but I sidestepped with a graceful pirouette, and he put his combat boot straight through a rotten crate of fish heads.
I was weaving through the chaos like I was dancing in a club, except the music was the sound of grunting Orcs and the squelch of garbage.
"Too slow!" I shouted, sliding between the legs of the biggest guy like I was stealing second base.
"You call that a punch? My grandmother hits harder, and she has arthritis! Come on, put some back into it! The people want a show!"
I popped up behind them, totally untouched, while they collided in a heap of tangled green limbs and leather jackets.
They were huffing and puffing, looking at me with genuine fear now.
"And that, ladies and gentlemen," I panted, flashing a peace sign to the floating eye while standing over the pile of groaning Orcs, "is why you never skip cardio day."
Suddenly the pressure increased on the alley.