Head into town.

Your house is empty, and there's nothing to do here. Londinium is around two miles from here, but you can get there in around half an hour if you keep a brisk pace. You head back into your room and grab some tight-fitting leggings and your leather boots before heading out. Not many people live in the hills - it's primarily other people like yourself who own a portion of land, meaning residences are well spread out. As you walk down a dirt road, with Londinium just a minute or two away, you see two middle-aged men arguing over something. They both appear to be farmers, as one holds a sharp sickle, and the other points a dirty pitchfork towards him. They're each about 6' 0, and the farm work has definitely built up their muscles.
"You know you stole my fuckin' pig, so you've got an hour to return it or i'll gut ye like one!", exclaims the man armed with the fork.
"You really are as stupid as they say if ye think I stole yer bloody pig." the other man responds. The male who appears to have lost his pig proceeds to stab the other farmer with his pitchfork and turn to spot you.