Valetni paced along, he had three destinations in mind, he knew the general location of the first, the specific location of the second, and almost no chance of finding the third without asking directions. The third was not quite something he wanted to ask just anyone about, unless the standards of decency in pikewall had changed since he had last been here nearly eight years ago.<br/><br/>Deciding to visit the first item on his mental list, and the only one that was truly time sensitive, he began making his way towards the artisans quarter. Stumping along the cobbled streets, keeping well clear of the carts as they made their rounds, his ears were soon introduced to the sounds of industry. Voices hawked their wares, hammers were swung, cart wheels clacked along the cobbles. The sound of progress, of civilization. This was what had propelled humans to the forefront of the species. If Valetni could be said to feel pride for his species, it would surely be for this and this alone. It appealed to something within him, the application of intellect to solve and overcome. Valetni had fond memories of his childhood, sneaking down at night to watch his father, a joiner, laboring in the workshop by lantern light. The smell of freshly cut wood was one of the few things that could bring an involuntary smile to elderly monk.<br/><br/>It didn't take him long to locate the rhythmic clanking of a metalsmith hard at work on some project or the other. Valetni had debated the problem in his mind, and decided that the services of a blacksmith would be in order. Valetni approached the shop, the cherry glow of a forge informed him of the location of the owner, as well as the rhythmic pounding. Valetni paused out front, before entering through the open door.