The towering mountain of muscle and armor that had spent a long and unpleasant voyage huddled on the deck of the fishing boat (mainly from being far too tall to fit below-decks), finally rouses and stomps off onto relatively safe, dry land. Nine feet tall and change, and what seems like that same distance wide, he has the stocky proportions of a dwarf, but with grey pebbled skin as if someone had rolled him in glue and gravel, plus a bestial snout and curling bull's horns protruding from holes in his helmet. Clad in dark iron plate, with a metal tower shield on his back and a massive metal chain (each link the size of a man's forearm) wrapped around his waist, he lumbers off in the direction of the indicated inn. While he doubts that it will have a bed for him, whatever the captain thinks, it will at least have something to drink.