Weston's Theme Tune https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=muVzci6jn88

A well trimmed beard, the sparkle back in his eyes, whatever had dragged Weston so close to the point of despair previously was now a thing of the past. His time split between the wilds and the cities of the Outer Isles, it wouldn't be unusual for those keen eyes to be watching over the docks of Nim.

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Time settled in one place appeared to have brought a change to Weston though. Still always with a drink in hand, be it his engraved, silver flask, or whatever whiskey the local taverns or his usual haunt of the Devil's Pilgrim in Darkmist held in stock.

His language still colourful, his wit mostly intact, but no longer found about the local brothels, often more serious, cynical or contemplative than before his arrival as well. Perhaps too much time out in the cursed, corrupted forests? Or was he finally having to face up to the consequences of letting his guard down around others?

What didn't tend to be so obvious was a keen eye and sharp mind. A light step with only the lingering scent of alcohol leaving any clue he'd passed through at all if subtle was his intent. His generally lackadaisical attitude did return to a more relaxed one when stepping outside the city and into the wilds. Nature more a home from home than even the bars he sank so much of his gold into.

Whatever had brought on this change, it was something he was trying to 'master'.