Rich people hanging around chatting, fancy sculpted hedges, well-tended flower beds, servants in dark professional outfits wandering around with trays of snacks and drinks offer her some. The orchestra seems to be playing in a big central sort of area.

She catches snatches of gossip while walking by. Ignoring the inane or personal bits and focusing on gossip that sounds relevant:

"...hardly a luxurious trip, but it's very cheap, see, even common workers will be able to afford a ticket once in a while..."

"...You looking forward to the fireworks? My father says they can just replace the fuss- er, the phosphorescent chemicals with iron balls and make shells to fight the demons with!"

"I'm just glad we managed to petition them to move the station to the north end of the city where it won't be so noisy..."

"...The Crown's money contributed as well, and I made an investment into the rail line myself, but..."

"...They say the whole of Britannia will be criss-crossed with rail lines in twenty years." "If the Neuroi don't get us first." "Oh, toss, that's negative thinking. The war effort is really getting into swing lately, what with all the new taxes..."

So, it's definitely some sort of transport device, and it might be noisy? Just because rich folk say something's noisy doesn't mean it is, but it still might be.

And they're optimistic about the Neuroi. That's something.

She wanders around a bit, to see if this railway is actually here, or if this is just where the party for it is.

This is just where the party is, apparently.

There's a sort of podium set up in the central area, near the orchestra and near long tables with fancy silverware. Behind the podium is a fairly large painting that shows a big, steaming iron box towing boxes with windows in them, and people gathered around.

It's a... fire powered... wheeled thing?

...that's actually not any weirder than the heavy wing brooms.

She goes to grab some finger food, and maybe find a conversation to insinuate herself in.

Interesting choices for a conversation to insinuate include a bombastically dressed man with tanned skin telling some kind of exciting story involving wide gestures to an audience of a dozen or so, three middle-aged men who seem to be discussing how the railway works, complete with technical diagrams, and a pack of young ladies walking around loudly judging all the food, wine, plants, and other guests, carrying several bottles of drink with them.

Oooh, options!

The 'how does this work' discussion is definitely what Misho would do -- but she's not Misho.

Plus, it'd be easy enough to get into the back of the bombastic dude's audience.

"-And then a thunderous explosion as the witches' attack hit home. The demon's black and red form shattered into countless glittering shards! They'd killed one of the foul things, but there was still another, and gaining. We could see the red glint as it prepared to fire again. Our sister ship had already lost a mast and was listing. Our captain was determined to aid our comrades... But we had no cannon, and muskets would have no chance of hitting such a distant target. Desperate for anything we could do to help, I hatched a plan. We had barrels of oil and tar in the hold - and I know from unpleasant personal experience that burning tar makes a voluminous, noxious, thick, black smoke. It could hide us as the witches formed up to fight the second demon! But we had to act fast, for it fired again and again every few seconds, smashing timber and lighting fires, or missing by only feet and sending up spray and steam... The Captain ordered rudder hard to port, sails let out to full, so we would come around behind our friends, exposing ourselves to the demon..."

The story continues with a little bit of blundering and a scare when the impromptu smokescreen fire threatens to spread, but the two sailboats are ultimately saved. When it finishes, everyone claps pretty enthusiastically. He's a good storyteller.

Yeah, he is. And possibly a good source to mine for info on what demons actually are-- if he was anything resembling a reliable source. Which he isn't.

But still.

She wanders up close. "So, do you have any other stories of dashing adventures?"

"Nothing quite as dramatic as that! I like my head where it is! There was this one incident involving one of the princes of Istanbul..." He gives a smirk and looks around - about a third of the audience is still here. "But I couldn't possibly bore you all with another long-winded tale without getting a drink first! Shall we go track down a server?"

Someone fairly enthusiastically volunteers to do it for him! He warmly thanks them as they go off.

"He seems like a nice lad. Hello, miss, you only caught the tail end of that story, unless I'm mistaken? You can call me Rost."

"It was a good tail end though. I'm Marena."

He smiles near-blindingly. "Thank you! A pleasure to meet you, I'm sure. I've only been in town for a few days, but I don't recognize you, I think - And I think I would have remembered you. Just passing through and liked the look of the party?"

"Well, I've only been in town less than a day, so it's not surprising you haven't seen me. Parties tend to be interesting events, and if they aren't interesting they can be made interesting. That's why I'm here."

"Truer words have never - well, have probably been said, but not that I've heard today," Rost jokes. "There are interesting people here. I can only presume you are a witch, my lady. Mr. Corveau there is a merchant from Gallia who's here to invest in the future. And Ms. Engelhart here helped manufacture the fireworks - they're beautiful, I think, and moreso for how they do not last."

"I'm not that subtle, am I?

I'm assuming the fireworks will be happening at night? Kinda hard to have day time ones."

"And it's always better to flatter and be wrong, than the reverse, of course." He winks. "Yes, I believe they're scheduled just after sunset. It's an all-day affair, speeches and socializing now, a tour of the station and railcars later, and then back here for dinner and fireworks."

Too bad she's supposed to fly back in about two hours, then.

On the one hand: fireworks. On the other hand: money. ...yeah, money wins that fight.

"Yeah, and there are a lot worse things than looking like what you are."

"Presentation can do wonderful things. Showmanship! Though I'm sure such a beautiful lady as yourself has little need to fake it."

The guy who ran off to fetch him a drink returns. "Ah! Thank you, good sir! Now, the thing you have to know about Persia..." He launches into another story, clearly enjoying the attention.

"Heh, no reason not to gild the lily."

She sticks around for the Persia story. She hasn't heard of Persia before, and it'd be worthwhile to know something about it.

He paints it as an exotic desert landscape full of rich spice traders and lush oases and beautiful old cities and bored royalty. It's also "the gateway to the Far East," apparently.

So pretend it's the South, and she won't be too wrong. ...Her south, not their south. This is going to get confusing.

"What's the far east like?"

"It is a land of dense jungle, high mountains, peninsulas and archipelagos. Mastery of the ocean is power in the far east. And halfway around the world, at the edge of the great Pacific Ocean, is the Empire of Fusan, a powerful island nation, rich with goods and culture and history, that exerts dominion over the waves."

So it's... like the West. She does her best to not go cross eyed trying to keep track. It's starting to sound like this place doesn't have Elemental poles, the geography is juts not matching up-- but she can't really ask that.  At least not without sounding stupid.

Which does not bode well for getting back home.

"Sounds like a fascinating place. Do they have much trouble with demons?"

"From what I hear, they've lost many ships and a few islands, but the homeland is safe. I haven't been in person since before the war, so that's just what I pick up from the news and rumors, mind."

"From what I've heard, rumors is most of what everyone has to go on."