Current mood:

creative

It is a beautiful city, almost as beautiful as Tírion (maybe more so, but you always love best what you left behind). It is teeming with life now, and it is full of goodwill and laughter, people happily reuniting and making new acquaintances.
He has not yet met many people, neither those he once knew nor new ones. He has had work to do. For his hands cannot rest for long; after the first few days he felt boredom and annoyance rise up in him at having nothing to do. So he has found himself rooms at street-level; and there he has begun to establish a workshop. Certainly the inhabitants of this city will need metalwork, ornaments, jewelry; and how can he better show his repentance than by working hard to create beautiful things for their (and yes, his also) delight?
After some basic preparations, he reaches a point at which he needs tools. And proper robes, he decides, glancing down at the simple off-white tunic he wears.
His nascent workshop is located in one of the side streets of the alley leading to the southern gate of the city; from there, he must but walk a short while to find a marketplace. It is no big deal to find cloth in fiery hues of red and orange; however, the vendor cannot tell him where to find a tailor, what with things still getting set up everywhere. With a sigh, he buys a few needles and yarn; even if he has to sew his robes himself, he will not walk around like a serving-boy in nothing but a loose shirt and trousers.
These matters attended to, he turns towards the acquisition of tools, searching for a black-smith's stall amid the vendors of fresh fruit and baked goods, cloth and crockery.