Out of Character:
Underwood was a transient town. A place where hungry travellers could grab a meal and a night's rest on their way from just about anywhere on Corone to anywhere else. Joshua had departed from Radsanth that afternoon, travelling as the tone of his enchanted metal boots on the city's cobblestones echoed in his mind. By the time the sun went to rest and the moon peeked through foreboding fingers of cloud, he'd arrived at the sparsely wooded fringe where Concordia gave way to Underwood.
The bed-and-breakfast town represented chaos to Joshua. Last time he'd leased a room at the Peaceful Promenade he'd ended up in an argument with a young girl and a fist fight with a pair of scholarly ogres. The girl, Lillian Sesthal, had later been instrumental in his defeat during the great battle in the adamantine-walled Cell. He could have thanked her, for his soul had chosen enlightenment over death that day and risen from his broken body to explore the wonders of the Eternal Tap.
The streets of Underwood were mostly silent, intriguing the Ascended. He had heard whispers from informants in Radsanth that agents of the Rangers and resistance for freedom could be found in that sleepy forest town. Yet Joshua did not see a single Watch patrol, nor any of the elves and men who moved with the wolflike confidence so common in Corone Rangers. Many of the villagers carried staves and wore long daggers on their belts, yet the buzz of their conversation was peaceful to the extent of naivety. Underwood smelled right, though. Radasanth reeked of corruption and wickedness, as did all villages touched by the taint of the Coaltion and their Wraiths from the former Scarlet Brigade. The districts where the Empire showed dominance were no better; the stench of fear gushed from the masses like a ruptured sulphuric geyser. He found little of interest in the darkened streets of Underwood, and eventually the roar of the crowd at the Promenade drew him to it.
Ever since Joshua re-embodied physical form on Althanas, memories seeped into his mind like rainwater finding cracks in the ceiling. Only some of them came from his life; others originated in his time spent as a being of pure energy, sensations and perceptions he could barely decipher now. At times those ethereal moments gave him a sense of purpose or direction, of destiny, but mostly they felt like reading a book written in a foreign language and unknown alphabet.
The stream of consciousness expanding his memory was a blessing after having the demonic Breaker-persona in the back of his mind for so long. It seemed the more he remembered and the more he learned, the more his capacity to learn increased. And his desire. Perhaps that desire for stimuli was what put his hand on the door and pushed his body to the raucous interior. He was no longer a man of preservation. He had become a being of purpose.
If only I could figure out that purpose...
His six senses snapped to work like hyperactive hunting dogs. Scented candles and oily incense couldn't cover the odour of alcoholic sweat. Josh found a current moving through the crowd and slid into it unnoticed. People pressed close but didn't come in contact with him as his penetrating eyes and direct walk carried him to the bar. Over the laughter and screams of the crowd, through the twangy pub music, he heard the bartender utter something to one of the serving crew about the Dwarven whisky.
"... the finest I've ever tasted..."
Joshua's tongue wet his lips. A long time since he'd felt the pleasure of a good scotch on his palate. His eyes, sharp as any falcon's, picked out the bottle, hidden where only customers who knew to ask for it would see. Well conditioned vocal chords ordered two glasses of the fine whisky, using its Aleraran name. The barman's pupils dilated, but any notion of deception vanished when he saw the weight of the gold coin those callused hands left on the counter.
Aside from his wardrobe which consisted of a black collared shirt, black pants, and the black Breaker Boots, Josh blended with the crowd well enough. He could feel the energies of the people all around him, and detected no malevolence. Even so his eyes roamed the tangle of arms and legs diligently, looking for body language cues of violence.
Guided by something more than his will, Josh smiled at a nearby woman who had long dark hair. Not quite handsome enough that she'd have asked me to dance, he thought as he handed the woman the second whisky and sipped his own. But just enough that she won't say no. He leaned in close and whispered in her ear, caught the aroma of roses from her hair and a recent pressing from her pleated dress.
The raven-haired woman pulled Josh onto the dance floor and pressed herself close. As they swayed to the music and sipped their drinks, he guided her on a path between the other couples that kept everyone out of eavesdropping range. And as the minutes slipped away she told him everything she knew about the constantly changing population of Underwood.
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