Tranquility

It had been a long journey to make his way here. He wasn't even quite sure where here was, since he'd managed to travel past the maps he'd acquired long ago. He stopped now to strip a handful of leaves off a grapevine into his mouth and calmly chewed, his pale eyes taking in the landscape before him. Pretty enough, he supposed, for what it was. He wasn't looking for pretty, though, but rather a place to set up a forge and anvil, to begin once again his work in the iron arts. He could almost imagine setting up here, in the quiet dark confines of this elegant land, but the idea of the rhythm and the beat of his art jarring so with this land's dignified silence bothered him at a level he couldn't quite express to himself. No - as much as he could feel himself nearly at home here, this place would not hold his art but would reject it. It would do for now to rest and recover from a long journey, though. He settled in the well of a great oak, leaning his pack and hammer against it, and stretched out his great burly arms to loosen tired muscles. He stripped off another handful of leaves, then, to chew meditatively.