The town of Thandor 

The town of Thandor was a bustling hub of activity. Streets were lined with market stalls, each one a kaleidoscope of colors, with merchants proudly displaying their wares. The aroma of freshly baked bread and roasted meat wafted through the air, enticing anyone who passed by.

Amukelo, while unfamiliar with the terrain, had a certain confidence in his step, a mixture of newfound wealth and the knowledge of his skills. The money he had received as a reward felt like a small fortune in his hands.

The first stop was the renowned blacksmith of Thandor, whose forge was famously known as 'Fire's Embrace'. The front of the establishment was adorned with an array of weaponry, from swords with intricate designs to shields bearing the crests of notable families. The heart of the forge, however, was alive with sparks flying and the rhythmic clanging of metal on metal.

Pushing aside the heavy leather curtain at the entrance, Amukelo was met by the sight of the blacksmith. A behemoth of a man, his muscles gleamed with sweat as he worked the molten metal. His beard, streaked with gray, hung down to his chest, and his eyes were a sharp blue, assessing Amukelo as he approached.

"Young warrior," the blacksmith greeted, placing the metal he was working on into the cooling water with a hiss. "What brings you to Fire's Embrace?"

Amukelo stepped forward, drawing his elvish blade. "I seek to upgrade my armor and need a proper sheath for this," he explained, holding out the sword.

The blacksmith took the sword, examining the craftsmanship. "Elvish make, I reckon. Beautifully balanced, light as a feather, and sharp as a razor's edge. You have a fine weapon here." He looked at Amukelo with a newfound respect. "Not many come into my shop wielding such a masterpiece."

Amukelo smiled, "It was a gift from a mentor. But it's not just the blade that makes a warrior, it's how you wield it."

The blacksmith nodded in agreement, "Wise words, lad. Now, let's get you suited up." Over the next hour, they discussed armor options. Amukelo settled on a set of flexible leather armor reinforced with metal plates at vital areas. It was dyed a deep forest green, blending seamlessly with the surroundings, making it perfect for stealth. For the sword, the blacksmith crafted a sheath from dark leather, accentuated with silver embossing that matched the hilt of the blade.

Amukelo's next stop was the Thandor Adventurers Association. Housed in a grand two-storied building, its walls bore emblems of different guilds and factions.

The Association was always bustling with activity – mercenaries discussing contracts, mages seeking rare ingredients, and adventurers sharing tales of their exploits.

Inside, Amukelo approached the main desk, where a woman with spectacles perched on her nose was registering new quests. Her nameplate read 'Mira'.

"First time here?" she asked without looking up.

"Yes," Amukelo replied. "I heard this is the place to find quests and opportunities."

Mira looked up and appraised him. "Indeed, it is. Depending on your skills and experience, we have various tasks and missions. Everything from monster hunting to treasure-seeking."

After a brief discussion about his abilities and his recent encounter with the bandits, Mira recommended a few beginner quests that he could take on. She also handed him a bronze membership card. "This will allow you to access our job board and take on quests. As you complete more tasks, your rank will increase, granting you access to more challenging and rewarding missions."

Amukelo thanked her and proceeded to the job board, scanning through available quests and making mental notes.

After leaving the Association, he went to restore herbs and food for future travels. The streets of Thandor led him to a bustling market square where vendors peddled their wares. The scents of herbs, spices, and roasted meat wafted through the air, drawing him towards a particular stall.

A middle-aged woman with a warm smile stood behind a table filled with jars of dried herbs, fresh vegetables, and other provisions. "Good day, young man," she greeted. "Looking to stock up for your travels?"

Amukelo nodded, picking out a few essential herbs known for their healing properties and some dried meat and fruits for sustenance. As he paid for his items, the woman added a small sachet to his bag. "A little something for your journey," she said with a wink. "It's a blend of calming herbs. Brew it in hot water and drink before sleep. It'll help with the nightmares."

Surprised, Amukelo could only murmur his thanks. As he made his way back to the inn, the weight of the memories of the recent fight, the lives he had taken, pressed heavily on him. He hoped the herbal blend would give him a night of peaceful sleep.

The inn's room was dimly lit by a solitary candle on the wooden nightstand. The soft glow cast dancing shadows on the walls as Amukelo prepared a small pot of boiling water. Taking out the sachet the market woman had given him, he carefully poured its contents into the pot, letting the herbs steep.

As the aroma filled the room, he poured the brew into a cup and took a hesitant sip. It was a comforting mix of flavors; slightly sweet with a hint of earthiness. Holding the warm cup in his hands, he took a deep breath, hoping the concoction would ease his restless mind.

Minutes turned to hours, and while the herbs did soothe his nerves, the haunting images of the bandits' eyes, the fear and anger he saw in them, the memory of his sword striking flesh – all refused to fade. Each time he closed his eyes, the scenes replayed, as vivid as if they were happening in the present.

With a frustrated sigh, Amukelo sat up, realizing that while the herbs might help with physical weariness, they couldn't erase the weight of the actions he'd taken. He would have to find another way to come to terms with the path he'd chosen. For now, though, sleep remained elusive.