Here we go again.. (No Adjectives/Adverbs)

Matt stopped to rest. His body was heavy and dripping with sweat as he viewed the gates of stone and mortar. Trekking through monster-infested terrority alone for days with no food or sleep could get to a man, and Matt hurdled the fury into defined, developed rage. The man's eye twitched at the observers, who stared at his appearence. He was covered in dirt and dried blood.
He needed to remember to wash himself before entering populated areas.

Matt walked through swinging doors, and looked around the bar; it was a powder keg, but he had seen his share of fights. He walked through drunks and dancing mercs to the bar. He sat on the stool, spinning himself in the padded seat before facing the alcohol.

"Wiskey, and skimp on the water, would you?" He uttered, slumping over the bar. His breathing slowed and relaxed. Matt reveled in the placidity, which was pleasuring with drinks at the ready. Hand reaching out, he grabbed the speeding mug and placed it to the rim to his mouth. The drought slowly funneled down the glass to the top of his tongue; he savored the fermented grain sloshing in his throat before he commanded it with a satisifying gulp.

It was a good day.