4 First Contact (The goblin doesn't count)

So while I have an epic staredown with the owner of this cabin, all I have to say is "tsk". The other person said, "Did you click your tongue at me?"

"No, no, I'm just overly disappointed."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" they exclaimed.

I replied, "Sorry, I was hoping for a hot elf who rescued me, instead, I got a grumpy old man." I said back. "There goes the dream, I guess". 

He says it sternly. "One that was rude, and two is that gratitude you show someone for not only saving your life but also for healing you," he explains. "Did you strike your head when you hurt your leg? That would account for the foolishness."

I angrily shot back, "Hey, what is that supposed to mean?"

In response, he said, "I not only discovered you screaming in the woods like a banshee, drawing in who knows what. There you are, screaming like crazy and carrying only a friggin stick—a fucking stick—as you prepare to battle a goblin. Who the hell makes a goblin their nemesis? You told me that after I killed it, saying, "Oh, I stole your nemesis." And the first thing you say to me after all that is that you're upset, I'm not a fucking elf, a female in particular. Not only did I waste my time carrying you back to my cabin, mending up your leg, and wasting my limited supply of healing potions, even if they were poor grade. All I'm left with, is this strange urge to go back into the past and smack myself for even helping you."

I open my mouth to give back a smart-ass reply, but I pause. He's right, Why the hell am I antagonizing the man who saved my life and who probably has most of the answers to all my questions? I close my mouth, take a deep breath, and punch myself in the face.

He says without making a face, "Are you trying to give yourself a concussion or are you planning to hit yourself, thinking you're going to get a hot elf instead of me? Sadly to disappoint, that's not happening, brat."

I take a breath. "No, no, I was just trying to get my head in the game. First off, I owe you a deep apology and a big thank you. I just had a long, long day, and I was not dealing with it well. You were right; you helped me and healed me; I shouldn't have acted like an idiot." I scratch my head and say, "Sorry once again, sometimes I act like a dumbass when I'm nervous or don't know what to say."

He lessened the frown. "At least you're humble enough to admit when you're wrong, I guess. But just please refrain from hurting yourself further. I don't have many health potions left, seeing as I live in the middle of the woods, and they are only for emergencies." He walks over to the couch to take a seat after putting his stuff away, which I think is some bows and arrows. He keeps his sword with him. Smart, he probably hasn't trusted me enough, seeing as I'm still a stranger.

Well, he sits down, stretching and popping his neck. I take the time to look over this old man. He seems to be in his late 50s because of his gray hair and wrinkles. He has a huge beard, and from the look of it, I can tell he has bulging muscles that can probably snap my neck or pop my head. I'm not sure, because of his size, if he's a dwarf or just an old man who shrank.

"Did you think something rude, just now?" he says warningly.

"No, sorry, I was just thinking, Are you a dwarf by chance?" I replied to him.

"Oh, you can tell, what gave it away?" he says curiously. I answered, "Probably the badass beard. Sorry for the smartass comment. I couldn't help myself. Also, I generally want to know if that's racist or not for dwarfs. The second would be the bulging muscles since dwarfs develop more muscularly, I think, and probably your stature, and I'm not making a height joke; I'm just curious."

"Well, first off, thank you. I guess for the compliment about my beard, I grew it myself." He starts to scratch his beard. "And about that racist comment, I generally don't know. We males usually do have majestic beards, but don't ever say that to the females of our kind; they beat the shit out of you, no question asked."

"And yes, dwarfs generally have bigger muscles than other races. And good thing you clarified the height thing. We may not be the smallest race compared to the Pallums, but we still take offense to our height."

I looked him in the eye and said, "Look, I think we both got off the wrong foot. Let's start over. I want to thank you again for saving my life and also for healing my leg the best you can. My name is (blank)." I tried to see if I could use a different name, if not my original one.

"What was that? I didn't quite catch it."

I sigh, "Never mind, my name is Odr Friggs."

"That is probably the stupidest name I have ever heard in my life."

"Buddy me too; it's not like I got to choose it."

"Well, your parents probably gave you the name for a reason; who am I to judge?" He's completely wrong since it wasn't them who gave me this stupid ass name.

He introduces himself. "Well, as you know, I'm a dwarf, and my name is Rudra Wolfgang, but you call me Wolf or Rudra; I care not for formality. So no, Mr. or sir, shit."

"Well, once again, thank you, Mr. Rudra." "Brat, what did I just say? Enough with the mister; I'm not that old."

I gave him a deadpan look, and he saw it: he raises his right hand and says "Go ahead, make a comment about my age. Watch how this hand strikes righteous justice upon your face."

I raise my hands and surrender, "Okay, okay, no, I got it. No height or age jokes, got it."

After we're done with the introductions, the old man rests both his arms behind his couch and rolls his neck one last time, getting a satisfying pop. "Since we're done with the pleasantries, can we get to why you were injured in the middle of nowhere?" he says with a serious look.

I'll also put on a serious look. 'Okay, it's game time, I thought to myself. Now is the time for me to make sure I make a great connection with this old man, so he's willing to give me the information I'm looking for.

"Fine, I'll answer your questions, and if it's not too much trouble, if you can answer mine,"

"Why should I? If you don't know, I've done more than you did for me, so why should I really answer any of your questions?"

"Because despite knowing you for what I don't know for what 20 minutes, I know you're at least kind enough to help a complete stranger, and I did compliment you on your awesome beard, did I not?"

"Smart-ass, fine, let's play a game. We take turns answering questions, and if we don't want to answer, we don't."

"Seems fair," I replied.

"Let's get started," he says, and I get ready to answer all his questions the best I can, even if i have to lie. Also making sure I know what I'm going to say that doesn't make me look like crazy idiot.

A/N

Finally, our mysterious savior is revealed to us. Regretfully, it was a grouchy, muscular, brain dwarf rather than a gorgeous feminine elf. Not only that, but a geezer who will resort to violence in response to being called old. He was willing tonteach humility to our MC, and for that, we are grateful.

Let's see if our beloved Odr finds what he seeks—hopefully, the answers he seeks. Questions and answers for next time. I believe?

What era does he belong to?

Is Orario far away?

Who is the best familia right now?

Will he train him?

There are still a ton of questions.

Stay tuned until the next time.