Here in Phandalin

The small town life was something altogether different from the bustling cities where you needed to keep one eye over your shoulder lest you be run over by carriage or catch the favor of a swindler. There was a base level of trust here that was comforting, even to strangers. And yet, despite traveling to such a small town, the world had a bit of magic in bringing acquaintances together. Elizette, an Eldarin he had met on his travels and exchanged pleasantries with, and Validus a warrior he had been commissioned by had both found themselves here.
 
He nodded and gave a short wave, unsure if his entrance drew any sort of attention but wanting to provide the minimum of politeness should it have been. Grabbing a table in the corner he poured out the contents of his satchel, and began to separate the scraps into piles. There were a few other weathered faces that had brought themselves here. It gave some credence to the rumors, this would be something he would need to write back about.
 
A furled brow manifested upon his face. He began to flip through the different tools on his gnomish army knife, piecing together different spockets, gears, and gizmos. It felt like he was close to getting past a roadblock. Maybe a dragon... or whatever beast the locals here mistook for one, would help push him just that little bit further.