Korxal stepped off the boat and immediately felt the intensity of the jungle's sun beat down on him from underneath his purple hooded cloak. He admitted to himself that it was probably silly to wear such a garment with weather like this, but he wished to keep concealed from anyone who may recognize him in this seedy city, or at least that's what his ego told him. In truth, he was nothing more than a simple Warlock and it was highly unlikely that a single soul would know his name let alone recognize his face, though that never stopped him from believing otherwise.<br/><br/>Korxal wandered the streets aimlessly for what felt like hours, observing the way the Bilgewater ran their city. He wondered how the people here managed to live in these conditions. The smell of the freshly brought in fish, the seaweed hanging from the docks, the -- he was pulled from his thought as he heard a loud bang to his left. His head darted to the origin of the sound and what his gaze fell upon caused a toothy grin. Behind the window that had apparently been pushed open was a perfect specimen of the Female Orc fully exposed. Korxal felt his pants tighten as his eyes soaked up the image. He felt his hands instinctively begin to slither to lift up his robes, but consciously pulled them away, thankful that what he tried to do wasn't visible from underneath the cloak. 'That must be the infamous Bobbing Head Tavern, maybe it's worth visiting? Nothing else in this city seems to be worth a damn' Korxal wondered to himself as he averted his eyes from the Orc and continued along.<br/><br/>Making his way to the lower levels of the city he eventually found the entrance. It was guarded by thugs who he could only guess were supposed to be intimidating. Upon finding his way inside he saw what he expected, a seedy bar with seedy people doing seedy things, and he was ready to embrace it. Korxal pulled his hood back and ran his fingers through his hair in attempt to bring the spikes back to life. He grumbled as he let his hand go and the spikes sagged slightly. Removing his cloak he pulled out a tome he had stashed inside it before hanging it up on a nearby coat rack. As he made his way over to an empty table he took appreciation to the smell of sex and the sound of the creaky floorboards. Grabbing a chair he hoisted himself upon it, 'Why the hell don't they make chairs for normal-sized people?' he wondered as he situated himself. He contemplated laying the tome on the table, but thought better of it and instead  perched it up against the edge of it, beginning to read over its contents as he kept an eye on the events around him.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>