As Robert approached, he got a closer look at the pair of people currntly flexing their arms, trying to beat the other. The two people could easily be seen as muscle-bound and physically active people - unless they were exceptionally well-conditioned Wizards or scholars.

One of them was a bald Dwarf, his thick arm practically bursting with muscle as he flexed against his opponent. Despite him being seated, Robert could easily see he was big for a Dwarf which put him around an even 5 feet tall and a few inches above every other Dwarf in the room. The only thing that gave him away as a Dwarf was how wide he was, the thickness of his arms and the mighty braided red beard he was growing on his face.

His opponent was a tall Human, about 6'3" and he was equally as muscular. Despite the height disparity, they seemed in the same weight class - Dwarves being notoriously heavy despite their short heights due to their width and muscle mass - and because of this, they seemed quite well matched in terms of strength with the Dwarf pulling ahead of his Human opponent by a small margin. While just as muscular as the Dwarf, the Human man seemed to lack the hardened edge the Dwarf held - a flicker of silver caught Robert's eye and he looked to the Dwarf's chest to see an Adventurers Tag.

'Silver,' he thought to himself, the system for ranking adventurers appearing in his mind, 'Wood, Iron, Steel, Bronze, Silver, Cobolt, Gold and Adamantine...that'd put that Dwarf in the upper middle of the pack in terms of ranking,' he reasoned, looking down near the Dwarf to see a pair of waraxes held between his feet and under his chair. Next to it, a pack filled with what Robert presumed were the Dwarf's items and such.

"Just give it up, ye wee little bugger!" the Dwarf exerted himself, forcing a mocking laugh through grit teeth as he stared over his and his opponent's fists, his dark eyes filled with confidence, "Ye think yer twig arms cannae be broken, lad? Aye, keep it up and I'll be proving that bloody wrong!"

His opponent just narrowed his eyes before sighing and finally giving in to the groans and cheers of the surrounding crowd.

The human man looked at his subtly shaking hand and Robert could see the redness around where the dwarf had been holding and squeezing. 'That'll no doubt hurt in the morning...why go that far--' Robert stopped himself as the man threw a few silver coins onto the table and toward the dwarf opposite him, '...Of course the answer would be a bet.'

Looking around at the small crowd surrounding the table, Robert saw being swapping coins, some with scowls, others with joyous smiles.

Working his way into the crowd, Robert decided it couldn't hurt to join in on the fun. Especially considering he could earn some money from it. Which brought his thoughts to 'Could he win?', however the answer was pretty easy to figure out. His strength stat was at 19. Robert had designed this character for D&D and had gotten considerably lucky with his rolls for his stats. Now, some things had changed and been added - the weapon and shield mastery, for one - but he was quite confident that his 19 in Strength was still a high number. Even if it wasn't, his recent level in his Tank class had made his Strength and Constitution stat even more effective than it already was. His Orcish Heritage had also gifted Robert with a passive skill in 'Powerful Build' which made him even stronger.

Thinking like that, Robert thought about just how strong he really was right now. Much stronger than he had any right to be, he assumed.

"Do you mind if I have a round with you? A few gold from each of us for the wager?" I asked as I took my shield off my arm and laid it up against the side of the table, my spear going right next to it as I sat down despite only having asked to sit. The Dwarf regarded me with an inquisitive look, his dark brown eyes curiously looking me over before settling on my eyes as he smiled wide.

"Half-Orc, huh? Bet ye wanna show off like most of yer kind does, aye?" he laughed, joking in good-nature before he held up his open hand, "Let's get it done then, lad. I've got a meal comin' anytime soon," he hurried Robert along though the Elf Orc noted that the Dwarf was using his other hand.

'Good to know he can at least be worn out,' Robert joked before smirking and bringing his own hand up to the table and locking it with the Dwarf's.

The Dwarf, despite being big for his race, was still only five feet tall at most. Even when compared to the Human man from earlier he was dwarfed, pun intended. So, when opposite the giant physique of Robert, he looked thoroughly out of his depth. Yet the confidence in his eyes never left his expression as he smirked, squeezing the bigger man's hand.

Robert prepared himself, feeling deep down like he was going to lose instantly. Despite seeing his new body, it hadn't quite sunk in just yet that it truly was his body now. That he wasn't the 20-year-old British Human Robert any longer. He was the 20-year-old Elf Orc Robert who'd spent his days as a young teen plying the fields of his village while he wasn't receiving training with weapons by the town guards who'd taken a liking to him. The difference between the two different Roberts was too much for him to really deal with so quickly, however.

Which meant he was woefully unprepared for what happened when the Dwarf signalled the start of their match and began pushing against his hand.

'...What?' Robert found himself confused as he looked at the Dwarf pushing and flexing his arm. On reflex, Robert had flexed and pushed as well but he'd put nowhere near the same level of effort into it as the Dwarf was doing. He was barely doing anything, in fact.

Yet the Dwarf's veins bulged along his thick forearm and from across the table, Robert could see the man's face go red from pure exertion.

And, when he'd finally recovered from his stupor, Robert put some effort into it and the Dwarf's hand slammed down onto the table. The Dwarf's eyes went wide as he stared back and forth between Robert's eyes and his hand which was placed firmly against the table. The crowd were suddenly just as quiet as they watched with muted looks as the reigning champion who'd seemed unbeatable was beaten just like that. The crowd, however, recovered much quicker than the Dwarf as they erupted in thunderous cheers.

Many of the crowd had bet against Robert but the shock had completely made them forget about the loss of money. They were just taken along with the atmosphere of the underdog winning the arm wrestling match and kept on hooting and hollering, even when they had to pay up some coin to those they'd wagered with.

Hearing the sounds of the crowd and realizing what'd happened, the Dwarf finally composed himself. Yet instead of looking annoyed or upset, he actually looked quite happy.

"Bloody hell, lad!" he exclaimed, smiling wide before laughing and banging his free hand off of the table before pointing at Robert, "Ye sure yer not Half-Ogre instead of being a Half-Orc? Felt like I was trying to wrestle a bleedin' Mountain Dire Bear's paw to the table!" he joked, getting laughs from the surrounding crowd. Some of which went on to even make jokes about Robert's heritage and how he must be half-Bear as well. A few of the crowd even slapped Robert on the back in congratulations.

The Elf Orc in question simply gave a bashful smile, his heart hammering away in his chest at experiencing this situation. It was an entirely new experience to him. 'Being at the center of the crowd--Being in a crowd and willingly interacting with them,' Robert mused as he let go of the Dwarf's hand who held it out again soon after but for a handshake this time.

"Rurik Stone, a pleasure to meet ye, halfbreed," he said with a welcoming tone, despite the words he used.

Despite being called a halfbreed, Robert didn't take it to heart and after a moment he took the offered hand with his own, breaking out in a small smile as he replied, "Robert Scartooth. Got my dad's family name, sadly," I joked, feeling the past Robert's annoyance with having to use such a weird family name.

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Yet there was little he could do about Orc naming tradition. His father had apparently had a penchant for scarring people with bites and his tusks during his youth spent with an Orc tribe to the south. Which net him the family name of Scartooth.

'A joy, I'm sure,' Robert remarked with little enthusiasm as he shook Rurik's hand before letting it go. Just in time, it would seem, for his food which was placed in front of him alongside a jug of water and a key for what he assumed was his room.

"Your rooms on the first floor. Enjoy your meal," she said the first part to Robert specifically but he figured the last part was said to both him and Rurik because the Dwarf had also had a meal placed in front of him. Though it was much more hearty than his own meal which consisted of a few chicken breasts and was surrounded by different kinds of vegetables. Rurik's meal was a plate of different kinds of meat - sausages, pork, beef, all piled onto a plate. Said Dwarf looked over at Robert's before cocking an eyebrow up in confusion.

"Damn near every Half-Orc I've met have been more meat eaters than into their veggies...ye one of them Half-Orcs who takes more after yer other parent or sommit?" he asked before shovelling a piece of food into his mouth, expertly missing his beard with the dripping juices.

By now, the crowd around them had left, going to their own tables or to their rooms and leaving the two to eat and talk.

Shrugging at his question, Robert gave a noncommital answer as he cut into his first chicken breast, "My mother was an Elf, so I probably took after her," he said before realising what he'd said. He'd admitted he was a Half-Elf to a Dwarf - and Dwarves were renowned for disliking Elves. Yet, to Robert's surprise, Rurik barely even reacted other than nod of understanding. Which of course prompted Robert to speak, "I'd have thought you'd have something witty to say about me being Half-Elf. You being a Dwarf and all," he commented with a light laugh, trying to keep the mood jovial in case what he said offended the man.

"Nothing really to say, lad," Rurik shrugged, "Yer only half anyway and I can see from yer green skin and them muscles that ye take more after yer Orc side. Only thing that gives away that yer a Half-Elf, now that ye've say it, are those extra pointy ears and the fact ye face doesn't look like a smacked arse like most other Half-Orcs," he gave a humorous laugh and Robert found himself laughing as he saw a Half-Orc not far from them scowl, obviously having overheard the Dwarf. Rurik caught Robert's gaze and followed it to the Half-Orc before holding up his hands, "I ain't wrong, Havgar. He's a much better-looking lad than ye or any other Half-Orc'll ever be," he laughed again and this time the Half-Orc cracked a small smile before going back to his drinking.

"Well," Robert intoned as he stopped laughing, lifting his fork which had a sizable piece of chicken on the end, "To a Dwarf who doesn't dislike Elves and a Half-Orc who likes vegetables," he made a joking toast and Rurik grinned before lifting his own fork, which ended in half a sausage, completing the toast before the two of them burst out laughing.

The merriment of the little chat so far had done wonders for Robert. For one, it allowed him to push his situation and what it meant to the back of his mind for a moment and just focus on having something to eat and talking to an interesting guy who looked like he could tell a few good stories.

As if to prove that he could distract Robert from his own problems, Rurik swallowed a mouthful of food before speaking again, "I cannae see a tag around yer neck, lad, so I'm guessing ye ain't an Adventurer?"

"No," Robert replied with a shake of his head, having a mouthful of water before continuing, "But I'm planning to become one. Or, I was, anyway. It's why I left my village," Robert gave the reason why this body's original owner had left for the nearest big town yet he felt unsure whether this body's original goal was now his or whether there was something else he'd rather do.

"I coulda guessed ye weren't one...but it's still bloody surprising. Yer already as strong as ye are and yer not already an Adventurer? By the Crafter's Beard, yer practically built for fighting and adventuring, lad," Rurik shook his head, seemingly in disbelief, before continuing on with narrowed eyes, "But ye don't seem very sure about becoming an Adventurer. You cannae be going into this sorta life without being sure, Robert. Yer've gotta make sure yer head's on straight and yer resolved to do it otherwise yer'll get yourself killed," he seriously warned Robert, none of jovial tone from earlier present in his voice.

Robert was a little taken aback by the sudden shift in the Dwarf's tone but composed himself soon enough and answered, "I know that much, Rurik," he nodded before sighing, "I...I guess you could say I'm a little lost at the moment. Do I want to go out into the world as an Adventurer? Or would I be more happy just being a farmer? Or a guard? I guess leaving my village has given me a little more perspective," Robert told a white lie, 'It isn't because I left my village, it's because I left my home and now I'm seemingly stuck in another world with a new identity and body. It's messing with my head a little and I sincerely don't know what to do,' Robert mused to himself yet he couldn't exactly say that to the Dwarf. He'd probably think he was mentally unstable.

Seemingly sensing Robert's distress, the Dwarf gave a reassuring smile, "Look, lad, yer don't need to rush into becoming an Adventurer. Live yer life a little more, if you need to. I'm not saying you cannae be indecisive about such a big decision, Robert. I'm just saying that ye need to be sure about yer decision, no matter what it is," he said before chuckling, "Anyway, ye don't wanna be hearing this sorta nagging off an old Dwarf, do ya? How about I get us a few drinks to lighten the mood?"

"...Yeah," Robert nodded, taking in Rurik's advice as he continued, "I'd like a few drinks after my journey here. Got ambushed by a pack of bloody wolves halfway," he shivered, remembering the event.

"Then it's settled, lad," Rurik nodded before turning to the bartender and lifting his arm to signal him, "Two of yer strongest ale, barkeep!"

Before long, two big jugs of a particularly potent smelling liquid were placed in front of Rurik and Robert. Robert's keen senses making him somewhat recoil at the overly strong smell of the ale. Nonetheless, he picked up the ale and brought it tentatively to his mouth before taking a sip. Surprisingly, it wasn't as strong tasting as it was smelling - it definitely had a strong taste but it only made the drink nicer. Robert could taste a fruitiness in it that he hadn't expected but it also had an earthy nutty tone that made even nicer. Taking a few bigger gulps of the stuff, Robert finally put the mug down and spoke up, "It's surprisingly nice for a such a strong smelling ale."

"Aye, it better be," Rurik, who'd already finished his mug and had ordered another, said with a proud smile which was elaborated on by what he said next, "It's Dwarven made, no doubt about it. So ye better have found it nice or I'd have started disliking ya!" he joked, laughing. Robert joined in, chuckling as he began eating again.

They ate and drank in silence for a little longer before Rurik finally spoke up again, "Where's yer destination then lad? Cannae be this little village if ye were thinking of becoming an Adventurer."

"Right," Robert replied with a nod as he swallowed another mouthful of food, "I was heading for Thornedge Town. You know, the town outside the Blackthorn mountain range?"

"Aye, I would do. I was born in that mountain range, after all," Rurik laughed, getting a raised eyebrow from Robert, so he carried on, "I belong to a clan of Mountain Dwarves who live on and in the Blackthorn mountains. It's where this here ale is sourced from," he raised his nearly empty mug, gesturing to the light brown and foamy topped liquid inside it. "Pretty sure I can taste who made this batch, in fact," Rurik said, more to himself than Robert before downing the last of his mug and finishing his plate of food, "I'm heading to Thornedge as well. If ye wannae, ye can travel along with me and me party. Maybe meeting some other Adventurers would help ye sort out yer decision."

Robert was somewhat taken aback by the suggestion but soon settled into a thoughtful state of mind. He realised that travelling with a group of strangers had it's cons and it's pros. Con, they could be slavers who look for naive people like him who lack common sense. Pro, they could just be good people who wanna help a naive person like him get to their destination without getting killed along the way.

Regardless of the pros and cons, Robert shook his head as he replied, "I would but I'm going to stay here for a few days before continuing to Thornedge. I think a few days of peace to think about my decision should do me some good."

"Aye, could do, lad. Do what you think is best," Rurik nodded before standing up and putting out his hand again, "It was nice to meet ya, Robert. If ye do get to Thornedge, I'll be in the Adventurer's Headquarters there so stop by if you wanna become an Adventurer."

"The pleasures all mine, Rurik," Robert said, taking Rurik's hand in his own for the third time tonight, "I'll see you in Thornedge if I head there. Have a safe journey with your party."

With that, Rurik left and Robert was left alone to finish his meal and the rest of his ale. Thoughts of what to do slowly began to plague Robert now that he wasn't distracted by Rurik and talking to the Dwarf. Yet, at the same time, Robert felt much better than he had before so he knew he'd be able to sort his head out and get to making a proper decision by the end of his stay.

After all, speaking to the Dwarf hadn't just distracted him. It'd put some things into perspective for him.