Author's Note

hey guys! first story! let me know what you think.

Prologue: HOLD YOUR MUGS! I'M GETTING TO IT!

You know how these stories go, right? Average guy buys a thing at a con then unwittingly seals his fate to be tied with an Equestria and to become the character he was dressed as against his own will. It’s the classic song and dance except for two things.

I’m not your average guy...

And I wanted this.

Let me explain, my name is… was, Ark Kane, now, I am Orgran the Red. I am a human turned Dwarf, well… my version of a Dwarf. Now hold your hate, I didn’t change anything major! You see, my version of a Dwarf sticks with what made them great in things like the Lord Of The Rings and the Overlord series, meaning they’re a proud and gruff race that like to live underground, finding joy in precious metals and gems, and beer. Now in these cases Dwarves have also been known to be industrious, learning steampunk technology before anyone else, most likely because they have so much raw material to afford being inventive. Anyways, the major change I have made to them is that, with practice, they can perform earth magic because of how attuned they are to the land, and the second is immortality, a perfect excuse for how Dwarves can still keep a grudge with the Elves when simply generation after generation a normal aging species would eventually forget hating them in the first place. If these little tweaks to them are not problematic, I will continue.

One day, I thought I’d be really unique for an upcoming comic-con, dressing up as Orgran, the character I had made, since I was kind of one of those people who just liked to make characters and lore about them. I had everything that would make Orgran himself, a small axe, a much bigger battle-axe, a warhammer that doubles as his smithing hammer, and his pickaxe gauntlets, there was one unfortunate thing missing though.

His Trusty Ale Mug.

Now let me run down Orgran’s character. In order to prove himself good at something, he made himself good at EVERYTHING! Every profession from blacksmith and warrior, to master chef and brewmaster he had acquired all on his own, he had a wooden mug with iron bracings and lid, it was sentimental to him as it was in this mug that held his very first self-brewed beer. Of course it was also the main reason he was never normally seen sober, but in fact he made himself better at that too, he is the first Dwarf to not only be immune to the cruel side-effects of alcohol through vigorous training, but a side-effect of said training now made it so he could still be coherent even while absolutely shit-faced.

And I didn’t have any way to make it.

I don't really have anything on hand to make a usable mug and I had absolutely no substitutes, and while I was distraught, I still was a dwarf, so I could still have some fun with it. So I went anyway, did some in-character mingling, I even managed to win a costume contest! But really I had this itch about it and well, everything! I felt like I was incomplete and I knew it, so my heart jumped for joy when I saw the mug I needed on a nearby stand.

But then it fell.

Because behind the stand was that.

Mother.
Fucking.
MERCHANT!

I sat away from him and hid, not wanting to draw his ire while I had an internal conflict.
Should I? I thought to myself, it is a new opportunity… then again he’s the Merchant, the same Merchant that screws every other Displaced over… you know what? Fuck it! I’ll play his game! And I’ll play it the Orgran way!

With new resolve I walked over to the stand, giving him the cheery smile of a bearded stout bastard. “Hey there lad!” I call to him. “I see you found me ale mug, how much ta take it off ye hands?”
The Merchant looks me over quizzically, and smiles. “Ah, welcome stranger, I fear I do not recall where I found this item, but if it’s yours, I’ll happily sell it to you for a discount… and what is your persona?”
“Orgran.” I reply. “Orgran the Red, hailing from another realm!” my smile turns to one of cockiness. “But I think ye would know that, Displacer.”
Immediately his eyes go wide, and he charges at me, again, not being stupid I hit him over the head with my hammer to deter him, it may be foam and cardboard, but a good swing can still have foam and cardboard dislodge a guy.
“Relax ya moron I ain’t gonna tell! I just want to make something clear.”
He gets up shakily. “And what, pray tell, is that?”
“You’re a dumbass.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “I assure you I have much experience-”
“THAT MAKES IT WORSE!” I exclaim, him taken aback at the first one to not only figure him out, but be prepared to call him out on it. “Being in the same costume hundreds of stories put you in is one thing, but you have the perfect item for an OC, a fuckin’ OC, ya daft twat, d’ya realize how suspicious that is!?” he looks away nervously. “Just ‘ave some fuckin’ common sense next time so some other bastard doesn’t slap some into you again ye idiot!” I place the contents of my wallet, only cash, onto the stand “Keep the change, not like I’ll need it.” I pick up the mug, pop open the lid and make a drinking motion, the shock is what went down my throat was like a sweet nectar of an alcoholic beverage, causing me to black out.

My actual first taste of ale is what sends me to the land of magical ponies.

If that’s not some way to make people think you’re crazy I don’t know what is.