(Author's note: This is my first shot at actually writing and putting up a proper story. Feedback is much appreciated. And if it sucks, please don't hold back with telling me; I'd rather know.)

You are Karec Alc-Falac-Paraloc. Fortunately for your human friends (if you had any, which you most assuredly don't), Karec on its own is fine.

You're an orc, specifically a mountain orc, with smooth grey-green skin and piercing yellow eyes. Standing around 5'9" tall, you're a fairly average female of your species, though you're a little more slender than most, and lithe and well-muscled from your years of training as a hunter for your clan.

Things didn't really work out that way, however. Your biological father was killed in a rock slide and you were adopted, as was custom, by the clan chieftain. Unfortunately, the clan chieftain turned out not to care much about you, and arranged for you to be married to a knight of a neighbouring clan. Having met said knight, you were having none of this, and fled.

Now you're a wandering ranger, living off the land. With a quick wrist and a pair of threateningly large knives, you've found that you're fully capable of surviving and thriving anywhere on the continent of Endarion, though you've never found a place stable enough to call home - so, for the moment, you live as a nomad.

It's mid-morning, and you are asleep. Sort of. Orcs don't sleep as humans do; they enter a sort of trance which grants them rest while keeping them alert to sounds.

Sounds such as the one which now awakens you from your stupor.