He frowned at his meal, a serviceable stew, as he sat alone in the room. Conflicting thoughts were running through his head on multiple fronts. The adventurers had taken his words seriously. That was good. It meant he was someone they could take seriously. They would help the town, clear the road, and, you know... good things.<br/><br/>On the other hand, they were excluding him. That was fair, he guessed. He was just starting as a wizard. Even if he was able to handle himself in a fight - especially now with weapon and armour - he wasn't Cohan or Mikael the Dawnsword. And he absolutely didn't want to go back to that skeleton without backup and friends. The apprentice rubbed the bandage around his middle. It needed to be checked when he got back to three-streams.<br/><br/>And the fact that everyone else was avoiding him - well, it stung a little. Here he was, in the big city, at the Golden Wench, and... nothing. He wanted to be drinking ale, swearing loudly and cheating people at dice. A fistfight and an evening run-away would be fun too. But at the same time, he was glad that he was being ignored. Because, well, he wasn't Arran. Something in the magic may have made this body seem fairly natural, but it wasn't his. He was weaker, slower, softer and, well, shorter than he'd been. And people didn't treat him the same way.<br/><br/>If he'd been caught sticking the bones three weeks ago, he'd have been beaten up and thrown out. Today... He grimaced as he thought of his first time as a woman, and the times afterwards. Today they wouldn't earn their money back with a beating - though there'd still be flesh slapping. So maybe being ignored, and not being drawn into carousing and bad habits wasn't the worst thing in the world.<br/><br/>Oh, there was another thing that was bothering him, Arran thought as he smothered a blech and looked down at the barely half-finished bowl of stew. He couldn't imagine finishing that. Thankfully, the same wasn't the case with his ale - though the Wench's brew seemed stronger than the tavern back home.<br/><br/>Arran grumbled to himself, a little off-kilter, as he tried unsuccessfully to hear what the adventurers were saying. Eventually, in unmolested, his tipsy bad-mood would drive him up to his room, where he planned to get an earlyish night's sleep.