The half-elf looked at the individual who had invited him to his table. This was not how he expected it to happen. In his mind, he had created the illusion people would go to him and ask 'what job are you offering?' and he'd say 'suicide!', afterwards they'd look at him strange and go back to their seats. He did not expect to be be beckoned by a visibly drunk, imposing man with a beard older than most of the children the unwilling recruiter had seen. 

 Concerned, but hopeful on the down low, he started making his way to the drunkard. He took note of the fact his body appeared a little strange, as if it was strained, but also relaxed. Could it be that this man was a warrior? Passing by other drunk individuals, unintentionally kicking outstretched legs, the half-elf reached the empty table. It was empty, save for the beckoning one.

"I'm Urdal." Introduced himself the reluctant participator, as he pulled out one of the chairs and sat down. The barmaid made her way to him, but with a wave of his hand he dissuaded her from servicing him. The half-elf's brown eyes focused on the drunk man.