Bleep. Bleep.
The cashier quickly scans your groceries and you put them in the basket as he pushes them toward you.
"Twenty-two ninety-nine." he says with a tired voice as you pass him the card.
"It says credit limit reached." he frowns.
"Ugh, this is embarrassing," you respond, searching your pockets.
The only thing you can fish out is a twenty-dollar bill.
"Only got twenty, can you cancel the beer, please?"
"Sure." he presses a couple of buttons, but then...
"HOW DARE YOU??" a girl wearing an armored suit jumps onto the counter.
You are quite surprised at how agile she is despite being clad in full plate.
"To deny our King a beverage, is a second-grade offense!" she yells and kicks the poor man in the jaw, making him topple to the ground.
"Wha- what?" you step back in confusion.
"No longer shall you suffer the disrespect of these filthy humans, my King." she looks at you.
You can only blink at her, dumbfounded by her words.
"Hear me, humans of this disgusting kingdom. For years have you offended our king with a lack of respect and due reverence. For this, and many other transgressions, I, princess Drana Silverhammer of Galah Tor declare war on your kingdom! Suffer the wrath of justice!"
At this time a security guy reaches the commotion and screams "Get down from there!", but a group of six armor-clad dwarven warriors all point spears at him.
"Don't come any closer to Her Highness." one of them grunts.
"Wait a second, what do you mean by this?" you address the girl.
"This means that finally, the day of judgment has come! We have seen all that these people did to you and diligently recorded it all." she takes the giant book strapped to her back and opens it.
"The reckoning time is nigh!" she shouts again "At year 8764 of the Age of Amber, 17th of month of Harvest, when your mockery of a teacher dared to grade out beloved King he gave him D where his answers clearly were more than enough for a C grade!"
"What? That was, like, years ago. I thought that was the case, but how did you know that?"
"Our mages watched closely as we were preparing the means to arrive in this world."
"Don't tell me you watched my entire life..." you are horrified by the prospect.
"Don't worry, I haven't shown them the embarrassing parts." an elven woman, who you haven't noticed until just now, whispers in your ear as she gently puts her hand on your shoulder.
"What are you scheming, Helena? Stop whispering behind my back." the dwarf girl looks annoyed "Don't listen to her. In fact, don't trust any elves at all." she points accusingly.
"Aww, so mean." Helena feigns being offended.
"But, you can't start a war over this..." you turn to Drana again.
"I can and I will! Do you, as our righteous King, wish to officially decree that your decision comes into the opposition with that of mine?" she looks at you sternly.
"Emm, no, I..." you are taken aback by her determination.
"Good! I would hate to gather a council of those old idiots."
"Y-your Highness, please stop calling elders this way." a dwarf in ornate armor says.
"Whatever. Come." she jumps down from the counter and grabs your hand, starting to lead you outside.
"But how can I be your king... I am a human." you question the situation.
"Formalities." she says as you two get out of the store and see a huge chariot with a giant golden throne on it, pulled by a team of six rams.
Animals dig at the earth with their hooves, eager to move, as golden rings adorning their horns gleam in the sun and golden chains tying their velvet caparisons chime softly.
Drana climbed onto it and reached for your hand. With surprising strength, she pulled you up into the chariot and pushed you onto the throne.
The seat was made with exquisite craftsmanship, other than a few hack job "alterations" to the feet and head areas, that looked like someone hastily made it accommodate a person much taller than what it was originally designed for.
Dwarf princess sits on your lap and yells, as she likes to do, in her assertive, yet girlishly cute voice.
"Back to the Galah Tor!" she points with her finger.
The dwarf couch hits the reigns, and the team of rams starts to slowly move the huge chariot along the street, gawkers from all around starting at the spectacle.
The rest of the dwarven contingent marches alongside, their armored suits clanging loudly as their heavy boots hit the tarmac.
Drana, who is sitting on your lap, hums happily with a smug look on her face, clearly satisfied with her accomplishment.