Eventually the snowfall thins enough to see the sun, a pale glow just above the horizon. The outlines of rocks and stunted trees peek out from the drifts, and distant screams and shouts float on the wind.

If she sensibly keeps going towards the screams rather than away, she will eventually come to the lip of a small valley. There are buildings down there, unimposing one-story houses tucked away in the lee of the wind, and around ten people running around shooting arrows and jabbing spears at a flock of flying creatures who keep trying to land next to them. It's not clear whether the people on the ground or the flyers are doing most of the screaming, but it sounds very heated.

The flying creatures look like giant birds with a human torso and a pair of arms separate from their wings. Whenever they manage to land, they start dancing like demented ballerinas, and possibly singing as well (it's hard to hear over the general racket), but the humans quickly drive them off.

Some of the flyers hit by arrows have had enough. With angry screeches, they divebomb the three archers and carries them off bodily before the spearmen can close in, arms and clawed feet awkwardly wrapped around the men who gamely try to stab them with daggers. After gaining enough height, they drop them. Amazingly, one of the archers gets back up; he wisely staggers into a nearby house rather than continue fighting.

The other humans scream angrily and redouble their attack, but they seem to be on the back foot now.

Screams mean people in trouble- People at all. Even if trouble finds her, it's better than being lost in the snow alone.

-Shit! There are evil constructs attacking people. She can't not help, risk of discovery to the city, or not.

She flips a switch, and the armor clangs and groans as mechanisms open up further. She can do more than just walk now- She leaps off the lip of the valley, trusting the shock absorbers to hold up the huge bulk of her armored suit, then runs. She's not an amazing marksman, she'll have to get closer.

The flyers notice her first. They break off their attack and fly towards her; a lone target looks more enticing. There are no archers left, and the spearmen follow at a distance but seem reluctant to approach more closely.

-Clawed constructs flying at you is SCARY! Even if you have armor! Now seems like a good time to stop and unsling her shock blaster, leveling it at the nearest one and snapping off a hasty bolt of lightning! Nice thing about lightning, it's easy to aim if you don't care about friendly fire.

The lightning obligingly hits the nearest flying monster; it sizzles around it before dripping off, leaving it unharmed and looking quite smug. The other monsters screech triumphantly.

Oh fuck, of course the constructs are immune to lightning. 

She freezes for a bare moment, then drops the lightning blaster, though it's still attached by a thick cable, and fumbles slightly to bring up the blunderbuss with her left fist instead. The right one has a mining drill attached to it and can't hold anything.

Two of the monsters land next to her, and try to grab her with their claws. The other three land some distance away and start dancing again (it looks even weirder up close). Seeing this, the spearmen break into a sprint towards the dancing monsters.

The suit is not exactly very mobile, but she steps back in a clumsy dodge and swings at one construct defensively with the drill arm, which is spinning viciously. (The drill misses, but might force it to back off a bit, at least.) The other one clawing at her gets a boxy weapon pointed at it, center mass almost directly touching its torso, and there's a loud KSSHHHHHHH, as a dozen steel balls are flung out at five feet of range, along with a jet of superheated steam.

"AAAAAAAH FUCK YOU, GET SOME!"

-No, don't swing wildly again. Go back to neutral stance, trust in the armor. Don't fall over. Don't fall over. Don't fall over. Steady stance.

That monster now has a dozen huge holes through its body! It looks surprised more than anything, and doesn't fall over, but it does jump back and keep a respectful distance.

The other one keeps circling around Waltana, trying to get her from behind. They might be underestimating the range of her steam shotgun.

The remaining monsters have been surrounded by spearmen, who have them at a two-to-one disadvantage. This time, though, they stand their ground and keep dancing despite being stabbed.

And then lightning explodes from the monsters, and strikes everyone indiscriminately.

Two of the spearmen fall over, and don't get back up; one of the bodies is smoking. The others yell and keep stabbing until the monsters reluctantly take off again. Both sides seem wounded and exhausted; the monsters don't try to land again.

The mania is taking over now. She's in 'the crazy place'. The constructs scratch at the steel armor, tear open thick leather coverings, damage conduits and connections as they attack her joints, making her more furious by the second. Swinging her drill arm as it extends and thrusts and lashes into flesh, and screaming, blood singing in terror and exhilaration.

She notices the crazy, but she doesn't care because "You STUPID CONSTRUCTS think you can zap me?!? Ha, I'm grounded too you FOOLS! My steel and steam will RUIN YOU! FLEE like the GUTLESS COWARDS YOU ARE!"

Slap the blunderbuss against the port on the armored suit's chest, that loads another dozen projectiles into it. Aim and fire with another KSSHHHHHHH. 

They probably mostly miss. It's a short range weapon. She could make something to strike them down, a long enough tube could launch the drill arm like a spear of justice into their cowardly backs and-

-They're getting further away by the second. "And don't come back, lest you taste the STING of DESTRUCTION!"

Now. What ELSE is around here that might IRRITATE her, HMM?

The monsters are getting away, flying up the slope where the spearmen can't follow easily. They yell angrily and shake their spears, but are quickly forced to give up the chase.

One of them tends to their fallen comrades. He pours a vial into the mouth of one body, which immediately sits up and smiles the smile of a man who knows that today, at least, he's done his fair share and can take it easy. Then he picks up the other casualty (still gently smoking) and carries it back towards the houses. He saunters along like it's no big deal to lift two hundred pounds of armored dead weight, and neither is facing the apparent death of your comrade-in-arms.

The remaining three watch her cautiously. Incomprehensible, incomprehensible incomprehensible? one of them calls out in her direction.

OH, so THESE GUYS are sparky TOO. Constructs themselves? Or merely inundated with some sort of device.

"I definitely cannot understand you. The Captain warned me about this. Outsiders and their outsider tongues... That's not even Baltemic, or the Europan tongue..."

HMPH. The flying ones were obviously aggressors to outside appearance, but she should CHECK to MAKE SURE in the future.

She turns, winces at how something worryingly hitches in the mechanisms, and puts her blunderbuss away, then reaches for the lightning gun dragging on the ground and looks it over for damage, before doing the same.

She feels cold and sweaty as the energy of the fight leaves her. And now... She's lost, out of contact with the city, in contact with a bunch of outsiders. A lone spark, who may well be mistrusted and put in danger by the warring powers out here.

...She doesn't know much about the outside world, aside from how Sparks like her fight and kill each other basically all the time. Shit. But she can at least thumb the canopy open, revealing the top half of her face and red hair, and have the suit wave and nod reassuringly at them?

"Greetings! I'm lost."

Excited incomprehensible! This construct has a human in it! Or at least half a human head, but the rest is probably inside somewhere too, unless - incomprehensible numeria?

After trying several different-sounding phrases to no effect, they beckon her to follow them back toward the houses.

...She may as well follow. Carefully. Man, these guys aren't doing so great, are they? The city's housing is at least solidly built, with nice roads and the odd park and electric lights.

Her huge armored suit makes a scraping sound whenever the right leg moves forward, but she follows at a solid jogging pace easily enough.

The houses are either very low-technology, or successfully masqueraded as such. They're made out of stone, brick and wood, and the windows are firmly boarded up against the wind (and possibly the flying monsters).

More people come out as they approach; most of them seem to be walking wounded, greeting the returning fighters. Everyone crowds around a woman in shining armor (it glows in a pleasant off-white color) with a bright blue butterfly painted on the front.

Once Waltana has come close, the woman says something that seems to cheer everyone up. They begin moving much more energetically, with clear purpose and a spring in their step.

If Waltana had any minor aches or wounds, she may notice they have mysteriously disappeared.

Also in the crowd is a man, the only one not wearing metal armor, who is holding up a page covered in handwriting and glancing rapidly between it and Waltana's face. Incomprehensible, he says when he catches her attention, and then seems to settle on pantomime.

He points to his mouth, Waltana, his ears; shakes his head sorrowfully. Then he holds up the page, stretches his other hand as far as he can towards Waltana's face, wiggles his fingers, and says uncomprehend incomprehensible! in a triumphant tone. 

He goes through the pantomime again. This time when he touches his head, his metal headband starts glowing, just like the woman's armor. He makes an exaggerated happy face, and nods rapidly.

Then he stretches out his hand again, and cautiously approaches. Will Waltana let him touch her cheek?

"Woah."

Weird area-healing effect? Not that she was particularly injured, just the usual scrapes and aches from suit usage. She's still sweaty and tired, too. But it was clearly some form of ENERGY that suddenly rushed through everyone, she SAW wounds and pains vanish suddenly she WANTS that same energy for HERSELF and needs to OBSERVE it happening some more-

...She's not very keen on letting a strange man touch her face. She holds a metal fist in front of herself in warning. Manic paranoia runs through her head, but if she can't trust the people she just fought off evil constructs with, who can she trust? What if she - pops open the right side collar, in the way she'd normally use to scramble up and out of the suit, and raises her right arm out, wearing leather gloves and a full-covering heavy leather coat?

That will do! He taps her leather armor, and - finger wiggle! The writing on the page he's holding sparkles and disappears, leaving it blank.

Knowledge floods her brain: a new language (Taldane), a new alphabet (Jitska), words and concepts all mixed together. She can understand what everyone's saying now! Not the proper nouns, and she lacks a lot of context, and has no idea how she knows all this. (The disappearing writing used some other alphabet that remains as opaque as ever.)

"Testing, testing, can you understand me now?" the man says, and continues without giving her a chance to reply - "I'm Otho, and we're the Black Spears adventuring company out of Andoran" (a country name, her new knowledge supplies). "Thanks for the assist! Viatrix over there is our leader" - he points to the woman in shining armor.

"Only when I have to be," she agrees cheerfully, "for talking to stuffy types who insist on seeing someone called 'commander'. What's your name? I've never seen armor like yours before, is it some kind of construct or golem?"

"I obviously couldn't just stand there, lost and confused or not!"

She pops the other half of her collar, so they can see her head and shoulders, but doesn't actually climb out. 

"Waltana Hampson."

Should she imply she's not, personally, a Spark? Would it be better to be known as such, or more an anonymous minion using someone else's creations?

She feels a rush of indignation and pride. They're HER creations. And she won't be able to hide the mania for long anyway.

"Yes, behold! The power and force of steel and steam, and of course the Spark to make it all work."

"The Spark? That didn't translate. Is it magic? A god? A metaphor?"

"I heard some people in Numeria animate constructs with lightning", Otho volunteers, "lightning is pretty sparkly." And she used lightning, so it's an obvious guess.

"The Spark? Why, it's nothing less than... The Spark! You're sparky," she points at the paper-wielding man. "Brilliant and a tad scary, whatever you did! And the healing! A new form of energy, yes, to harness, for mighty devices! I want to learn it!"

"That's just magic", she says casually.

"There's nothing 'just' about magic!" Otho objects. "Magic is the most important fundamental force of the universe, and also the most beautiful! You don't appreciate it properly, because you're used to having it done for you!"

"I appreciate Desna, for giving me magic! The magic itself isn't anything special, even you can do it!" This has the sound of an old argument.

"Let me try to explain," Otho says to Waltana, "the spell only does words, it's not great at meaning. So, lots of people use magic in different ways. Those who are smart enough to actually understand what they're doing, to invent things and write books and learn from each other and build Civilization, are called wizards. Like me." He grins smugly.

"Other people have magic powers because they're just a magical kind of creature, or had magical ancestors. They can use them instinctively but they don't understand them, like children learn to walk without understanding mechanics. These are called sorcerers, or whatever kind of creature they are."

"And some people get magic as a gift or a trade from powerful entities. Clerics like our friend here get them from gods. Then there's druids, shamans, oracles, witches..."

"Ignore him," Viatrix whispers loudly, "he likes to show off knowing lots of words."

"...mediums, paladins, summoners, rangers, familiar spirits, and many others," Otho goes on pointedly. "How does your 'spark' work? Did you learn it, or inherit it, or find it, or get it from Someone?" The last word uses the grammatical case for 'gods', but this doesn't tell Waltana what 'gods' are, exactly, beyond apparently deserving their own set or pronouns.

Honestly, Otho has the right idea! The powers of the world are worthy of appreciation, especially the act of harnessing them!

"I'm beginning to think I've been lied to about the outside world-" wait shit that implies the existence of the city "-even more than I already suspected. I hope some of it is a lie, honestly, it would be really quite depressing if Sparks - magic people - really do constantly murder each other... There's so much POTENTIAL! Why waste it with something as stupid as DEATH and BETRAYAL and POINTLESS BACKSTABBING! A shame, I say! With the power of the MIND and the natural forces of the world there should be NOTHING we cannot achieve!"

This seems to have been the right thing to say! The members of the Black Spearmen crowd around her excitedly. "Hurrah for the potential of the human species!" someone shouts, and "the stars are our destiny!"

"What are you, an Arodenite? Desna says the stars are our destination" -

"What about elves, don't they get some stars?" objects a man with pointy ears.

"They've been interplanetary for ages, if they haven't gotten to the stars yet, I don't think they care," opines another.

Viatrix ignores the babble with aplomb. "I completely agree! Where are you from? We Desnans are born travelers, so I've probably at least heard of it. And if the place has more people like you, it's probably worth a visit!"

"I don't think people with magic try to murder each other more than other people do," Otho says thoughtfully to himself, completely ignoring the other conversations, "we just have more power, so we end up killing more people. But they - we - also help and save more people with magic! Magic is, like, the most important multiplier to anything you do. As the saying goes, not all important people are wizards, but all powerful wizards are important."

"If only, if only! The strong could refrain from stepping on the weak! But sadly, if you are strong, and nice, someone less strong and mean will win! -I don't know any of these people. Have you heard of Wulfenbach? Albia? The Heterodynes and their Jaegermonsters?"

"No."

"No."

"Not yet!"

"What country are you from?"

"Ah, that! I think is a secret for now. We'd rather not be noticed. There was some-" she frowns, "-Magic, in that snowstorm, I think. Maybe all for the best that I don't look too hard."

Viatrix grins. "I won't judge you for leaving home behind, travel is a sacrament! And I won't pry if you want to keep it a secret. Instead I'll ask, where do you want to go next? It sounds like you don't know your way around here yet." Any  proper Avistani adventurer would know at least some Taldane.

She pulls out a map of the continent and a compass ("travel sacrament, very important"). "We're here, on Mendev's Worldwound border. The wardstones are about five miles west, that way" - she points - "Kenabres is south. Pretty much nothing of interest north - that I know of! - unless you go all the way over the Crown of the World and to Tian Xia. I really don't recommend it, better to take the long way round, or save up for a few plane shifts."

"Also if you have any interests other than traveling and seeing stuff and moving on without even getting a good night's rest" - glare at Viatrix, but without much force - "I recommend you speak up before she sends you packing to Arcadia."

    "Sleep in all you want, it's your loss if you miss the sunrise."

"I don't get up to see you watch the sun rise, I get up to make sure you're not watching it three miles away!"

    "You're just jealous because I climbed another wizard's tower to watch it."

"You snuck into a wizard tower and the most interesting thing you found to watch was the sun rise! How can you be so blind?"

The other men turn their heads back and forth rapidly, like watching a spectator sport.

"Anyway," Viatrix says when Otho seems to run out of steam, "what would you like to do?"

"Well the worldwound sounds somewhat concerning and I can ASSUME it was the source of those CONSTRUCTS so I'd like to make a WEAPON that will serve a little bit better than LIGHTNING as glorious as it is, perhaps some kind of ACID SPRAYER, but then, my WORKSHOP is nowhere to be found and where would I even GET acid at this time of day. There's always a nice STEAM EXPLOSION, very good stuff, or some SPINNING BLADES, yes, something that extends but that requires continuous power input and- BAH! I'm ranting again!"

"Demons aren't constructs. I mean, no-one makes them, they just - appear in the Abyss? Grow out of the poor souls sent there, is the common understanding."

"And yeah, demons are immune to lightning, anything else is better. They're usually resistant to acid and fire and so on too, but that's easy to solve, just use more acid. The spinning blades should be cold iron to really hurt them, or enchanted Good if you can afford that." This translates as - magically imbued with the one of the fundamental forces of the universe, which is metaphysically the same as being nice to people.

"What do you need in a workshop? Kenabres is the closest city - a big walled town really, it's no grand metropolis." Otho finally got to see Absalom last year, and he will judge all other cities from now on. "It's got smithies, alchemists, probably nothing fancy. No famous wizards, although I think Terendelev is one? She's their local silver dragon."

"We're headed to Kenabres ourselves, we need to raise Cinna and Corvus - the archer who got dropped, and the fighter caught by that lightning. I'm not strong enough to do it myself yet. They're insured, we all are, so we need to find a church of Abadar and then any fifth circle cleric who'll take our coin. You're welcome to join us, but of course if you do want to go somewhere else we'll try to help you anyway."

"Oh, good, you can get them back!"

Phew! It makes her feel less guilty for not having done enough in the fight. And it makes perfect sense that they'd only reanimate people in certain places. Sparks specialize, and reanimation sounds like tricky business. She definitely couldn't reanimate so much as a rat.

"Right... I'm still pretty confused by like three quarters of the things you say, but hey! Bold new world, adventure of a lifetime because it's the first one I've ever gone on! Let's ignore the shakes I still have because those things were damned scary! Giant moles don't really count. Uh. If you all don't mind, having shot at 'demons' together sounds like a nice beginning to- An alliance. Logistics wise, I'll need to make my own workshop soon, but being able to buy, like, furniture, and bar stock, and glass, will help. Not that I have any money. I'm going to have to do maintenance on this thing and maybe a nap before I go anywhere. Oh, I'll need a bunch of coal or I guess firewood. To charge it."

"We have firewood. And fireplaces, and I think there's an old smithy but it hasn't been used in decades."

"This place was an abandoned old village, now it's way station behind the border - the Wardstone line. We weren't expecting to be attacked here! The demons can't cross the wards, they kill them or knock them out and the patrols mop up the ones who make it. This lot must have been very lucky. Too bad we couldn't finish them off; they'll go harass civilians who can't fend them off." She looks glum. "Tracking flyers is hard. Otho's got a flight spell but it only lasts a few minutes."

"Now we have to go back to Kenabres for the raises, and then back out here because we still haven't seen the 'wound. Not that it's a great sight, but we do want to do some Good along the way, at least help the patrols out for a bit."

She frowns and crosses her arms, still standing in the huge armor.

"...If flying enemies immune to lightning are common I'm sure I can come up with some IDEAS given time and money, but RESOURCES are always a constraint. I'm sure there are people like you who might buy some of the wonderful things I can make- If a smithy is notable, well, steel armor and spears, yes, like the age of the Storm King. If nothing else I can make a ton of steam guns or lamps or powered carts - or my mining drill - though with this terrain it might be easier to do full WALKERS, there's not a lot of snow to sled on... I just don't know what yet! But uh. Frankly, I'm gonna need money for any of that and would appreciate tips on how to get some. We didn't trade much. And like. Doing good is good and all, but doing good with a stick and your underwear..."

Eh, if these people are going to murder her for being a Spark, they're being pretty subtle about it. She clambers up and out of the wide armor suit, wearing thick full-covering leather, though its style is very odd. She walks around to the back of her armor and hisses in displeasure at the damage. Torn leather, bent steel, mangled rubber and wires, especially at the joints, particularly the right knee.

"And maybe point me to that smithy to work on this, if nothing else it's out of the snow."

They back off a bit. "What's that about the Storm King?" Otho says carefully. "Far as anyone's heard, he's still in Iz, ever since the crusade broke his latest army. It's been a few years, though..."

"Might be a different Storm King. The time of the Storm King was thousands of years ago."

She is fussing with latches and bolts and cursing under her breath.

"Oh. Well the - current - Storm King is Khorramzadeh, leader of the demon horde. He's a balor, which is about as powerful as demons get before they're demon lords. Known for using lightning, which is how he got the name. People round here have a lot of recent bad memories... Demons are immortal, so I guess it could be the same one from thousands of years ago?"

"Anyway. You can get paid for fighting demons and patrolling, but that's make your way money, not get rich quick money. You can do stuff for people, but you can't always find the right job quickly. Or you can go fight demons and cultists and take their stuff. The main problem with that is needing money to make stuff to fight demons with! It can be a virtuous circle, but it's slow to start and you might have to stick in one place for a while." That's another reason being a cleric is the best, you don't need to buy as much stuff.

"Maybe you can sell knowledge. Or get loans! I'm sure a lot of people will want to buy your guns, I just have no idea who might pay before you have guns to sell." The word is a bit obscure but she knows they're some kind of projectile weapon. "We don't stick in places around long enough for business ventures."

"If you want to stick around with us - I don't want to commit yet, let's spend a little time together first, get to know each other better." She ran a surreptitious Detect Evil earlier and Waltana's not that, but there's lots of other things she could be, what if she's Lawful or has weird dietary restrictions or something. "Then if you join, we can share some expenses and front you some money until you're up on your feet. But, fair warning, if you're the type who needs to set up in one place with a workshop and so on, we'll be a poor fit, we do want to travel a lot."

"I definitely agree not to decide for good right away! This snow-licking- Ugh. Well it sounds like going to Kenabres with you is a good first step anyway!" CLANG. "Are you leaving now-now, or like tomorrow morning?"

"Tomorrow", Otho says firmly, "I'm out of spells and I want to ride in style, not tromp through forty miles of snow. And this place is more defensible if the vrocks come back."

"Will you be alright walking that far? There's a pretty good road along the river but it's all snowed over now. I can conjure light horses and carriages, your armor might not fit inside unless you can take it apart." He considers and adds, "the armor, not the carriage."

"I'm not going to walk forty miles. My armor will do it for me!"

They'll prepare for a long, restful night. The biggest house is warmed and aired, with blankets laid out and a guard set. 

The sun sets early in the subpolar winter; they sit for hours around the fires before going to sleep. The conversation naturally turns to the new arrival, but if she's still reticent, they'll regale her with stories from half of Avistan and second-hand stories from most of the planet, with a healthy dose of legend and myth thrown in.

Waltana is still... Hesitant, to talk too much about her home. But she'll talk about people. Her dad is distant at best, she likes her mom a lot better. They're both farmers, but the way she talks about them doesn't make them seem poor or ordinary for it. Her friends all wanted to join the scouts, the only ones allowed to leave, or get a job in the Center Ring. The Captain is mysterious and at least a hundred years old. The place has rigid schedules and roles, based on her anecdotes- Work goes by the clock, not the sun, for everyone. Housing is assigned, and every child goes to school from ages eight to twelve, then apprentices from thirteen to seventeen.

-And then she'll tell a Heterodyne Boys story, one of the rare books brought in from the outside world by a scout who thought it was useful history, not probably-greatly-exaggerated fiction. The Heterodynes are a famous lineage of powerful Sparks, and Bill and Barry are the first "Good Heterodynes" after a notoriously cruel family. The Heterodyne Boys and the Fog Merchants is about Bill and Barry tracking suspicious figures across their town, with a dozen unlikely hindrances getting in their way- 

"Of course! Though they may be INTANGIBLE, their forms can still be disrupted by ENERGY- Bill, get my LIGHTNING CAGE!"

"We can't use that in these tunnels- The current will ground in the river! But what if we ALTER it to produce a NEW ENERGY-"

...Until it turns out in the end that the Fog Merchants were kidnapping people who owed them money in a defunct currency, so after Bill and Barry beat them in battle, they negotiated alternate payment, then hired the Fog Merchants as guards.

Telling this story seems to have... INSPIRED her.

She seems more and more distracted, fidgeting and ranting. "Yes, CLEARLY all that is really needed is to CHANGE the energy! Mutable form, force is force and power is power... Three times three and three more, acceleration, I wonder if-" And this is when she walks out of the biggest house and back over to her armor, more and more excited by the second!

"-Now is the time for SCIENCE! And fire! Lightning is not ENOUGH? Fine, the grand SYNTHESIS shall make it WORTHY of being called a true weapon!"

...And, uh, there is a lot of mania in her right now. She doesn't have much of a mind for anything that's not her tools and parts, all taken from the armor or the two weapons attached to it. And is kind of... Cackling.

"I'll show them ALL! My new PLASMA BOLTER is more than mere fire, more than weak lightning! More than the sum of its parts!"

...She'll be at it all night unless someone stops her, honestly.

This is kind of impressive but also a little worrying! 

"Is it something we ate?"

    "Are you sure vrocks don't have venom?"

"No, they have spores, we dealt with those -"

    "Maybe she's having a bad reaction to the spores -"

Viatrix will do a belated Bless and, when that has no visible effect, plant herself in front of Waltana's face where she can't just ignore her. "Are you alright? You seem overexcited. Don't take your armor apart, you need it to be in walking shape tomorrow!" 

"I've never been better! The Spark is flowing wonderfully today! I'm away from the stupid rules, the suspicious glares! The city was TERRIFIED of my potential - but now I don't need to hold back! So many IDEAS, yes, more than ever before! I don't have much to work with, but recombination is just a BRACING CHALLENGE! Experiments on your positive energy will have to wait, I don't have sensors built for it yet, nothing but the mining suit and making a WEAPON is more important-"

She is waving around something that used to be a hammer, laughing.

Alright, that's differently concerning. She considers using her held-out slot for Calm Emotions, but Waltana probably wouldn't thank her for it after it wears off.

"As long as you're enjoying yourself! But do make sure the armor can walk tomorrow morning, and so can you." And she'll just ask a few more people to stand guard, the impromptu workspace is close enough to where they're sleeping and there's enough of them no-one will be short on sleep.

She prays to Desna, that She will see and love and help this young woman who seems so happy to have left her home behind, and always send her among true friends. And then she goes to sleep herself.

After a lot of work and going through a large quantity of firewood, the lightning gun with its big metal coil is no more, and significant portions of the armor look different. The right leg bears signs of repair, but the left one has apparently been partially disassembled for parts, the complicated internals showing through a plate that was removed and - bent and stretched, somehow, without a forge, into a pair of long metal rails. The drill-hand on the right arm seems to have acquired an additional nozzle, and there's a new weapon is attached directly to the suit's shoulder where a light source was yesterday, a big boxy shape with lots of wires and tubes sticking out of it, with two long metal prongs coming out the front. She has stenciled 'CAUTION - DO NOT BE THE PATH TO GROUND' in a foreign language on it.

She eventually does fall asleep, nestled inside the armor's piloting compartment, with an open panel in front of her.

They let her sleep as long as they can, but all good things must come to an end.

"Morning! There's food and tea. No water for the bath today, melting enough snow takes too long. Try to be quick, we really want to make Kenabres before nightfall, the roads aren't great for the carriages in the dark. Can you walk OK with your armor like that?" Dubious glance at the exposed leg innards.

"....Mmph? Ah!"

She is briefly alarmed before remembering what happened. A bunch of emotions flit across her face, then she rubs her forehead.

".....Uhhhhhh should be fine for marching. Not great in a fight. Thanks for waking me."

Food, yes, where is it? It's a bit weird not to have a specific assignment.

They have trail rations: dry bread and meat and fruit, and lots of spices for flavor. "It's expensive to carry fresh stuff," Viatrix explains, "and game's poor here, we eat better when we visit cities." 

Otho is sitting in a quiet nook with a big book open in his lap and his fingers twitching spasmodically above it. He takes the occasional a bite out of anything the others put in his free hand without seeming to really register what it was; a small cake is followed by a sausage and then half an apple.

"Don't bother him," someone tells her, "if he loses focus he'll need to start over, it takes him an hour every morning. Other wizards learn to do it quicker but he just doesn't like to be hurried."

Viatrix appears bearing two steaming mugs. "Drink this, it'll wake you right up! What was all that last night? Your armor has a lot more, uh, moving parts inside than I thought constructs did." Not that she knows how to make constructs, but she helped, uh, deconstruct some golems before, and they weren't anything like that.

"Stimulant?" She accepts it. "Thaaaaat was, uh, the Spark. It's well known at home that Sparks have - episodes when they're working. The stronger the mania the better the result... I would HOPE that I can make use of it properly at least!"

Oh good, it's something she knows and is used to. "That's good to hear! I was a bit worried last night. So, what'd you make? I thought you were going to need a workshop before making stuff."

"Quite! And, well! I was reusing parts from other things, and that seems to have done well enough! The lightning blaster is no more and neither are the quaternary leg extension boosters. Instead, I can use the energy of lightning to create a hot plasma- There's nothing to hold it together for long but the rails will launch it forward until the resulting energy sphere loses cohesion and explodes in the air- Impact detonation as a convenient side effect. Those demon things are not immune to force and heat like they are lightning, are they?"

"You're describing something like a fireball, but with force as well as heat? That should work great! Only the strongest demons are immune to fire, and I don't think anything at all is immune to force. Except ghosts, probably." She looks briefly thoughtful. "How many times a day can you do that?"

"Great!" Huh, that's a bit of an odd framing. "...Well, as long as my core pressure is above twelve hundred, I think, though moving and the blunderbuss and everything else all draw from the core too. It'll take a bit between shots. After a dozen shots I might need to go in and clean and realign things, I suppose. And a dozen shots would be pretty draining on the core too. That's what I was doing with all that firewood by the way- Burning it to raise core pressure."

"A dozen fireballs! You hear that, Otho? Why can't you do a dozen fireballs per day?"

Otho has closed his book and is gulping down his tea. "I would," he says with dignity, "if we spent enough time fighting. Instead I waste my skills conjuring horses, only for us to turn around and ride back the very next day."

"We're not riding back, we haven't been to Kenabres yet! You're just grumpy because you didn't buy that flying carpet in Sothis."

    "The pursuit of knowledge is more important than the pursuit of flying. I made the right choice."

"Your new hairtie looks great," she says mollifyingly. To Waltana: "he's just annoyed because he spent all his spells on horses yesterday, and didn't have any fireballs left for the vrocks. We thought we wouldn't see demons until we reached the actual border. Now we have to spend a little more time going to Kenabres first. But that's fine! We were going to go there eventually anyway. Maybe afterwards we can visit the Lastwall border instead."

"Construct mounts- Or conjured mounts I should say- Are also really impressive! Not that I've seen them yet, but I can't do anything I haven't built something for. What's Lastwall?"

Nom, nom. Sausage!! Meat is a rare luxury, takes too much space. The food's not bad. The spices are neat.

She gets her map out again. "To the east of the 'wound is Mendev. To the south is Ustalav. But the south border is mostly held by Lastwall's army, even though Lastwall itself is way over there" - she points. "Ustalav doesn't have a proper army, for good and for ill."

"Lastwall's a Lawful Good country run by the church of Iomedae. They're nice people, by all accounts, overworked with a hundred pressing problems. It's said to be good for your soul to spend a season or two helping them."

"We came up the River Road to Egede, then went west until we got here. Now we can detour a bit north to Kenabres before going back to the border, and eventually down south to Nerosyan - that's the capital - and then we can go west to Lastwall's border, if we want."

"...Hmm. Yeah, someone needs to keep the demons in, right? Damn, still stinks I couldn't get them yesterday. I wonder if I could sell powered wagons. Those aren't too bad. Or walker wagons."

"You definitely can! If not in Kenabres, then in bigger cities for sure. And helping people travel is good in itself."

"Ready to move out? We can talk more on the road, we have the whole day ahead of us!"

"Yeah, sure, lemme just scarf something down-" 

She's ready to march in another five minutes. The armor's gait is a bit different than before. What's the landscape like? She's used to endless ice and snow.

The snow looks pretty endless, but it did snow a lot yesterday! This snow has ground under it, and melts in spring, and there are rocks and trees sticking out of it. There are even a few animals in the distance.

They walk the first few miles, until they reach a river running in a deep canyon. The sky on the far side is banded in shades of blue, like an aurora squatting on half the horizon. "That's the Wardstones," someone supplies.

There's a cobbled road running along the near bank, snowed-over but well maintained, and they stop for Otho to wave his hands.

Two carriages appear out of nowhere, one after the other. They are built out of wood with metal wheels and looks completely unremarkable. Each also has a pair of horses harnessed, and their hooves trail off into half-transparent smoke. They hover over the ground, but manage to imply they're standing on it and just have invisible hooves for some reason.

Everyone piles into the carriages as if this is perfectly normal. A couple of men take the drivers' spots, but instead of picking up the reins they twist around to join in on the conversation. The coaches start rolling anyway.

"Now we probably have a boring day ahead of us, so you can ask all the questions you can think of, and then we'll tell more stories! If you want to rest or sleep, we can try to tie your armor on the roof and hope it doesn't break. Let's try to avoid that though, the spell doesn't don't last all day so we shouldn't make long stops."

"Oh yeah," Otho adds, "before I forget, the spell I used yesterday, Share Language, lasts a night and a day. I prepared it again and I'll cast it when this one runs out in the afternoon. You should look into learning a local language, it won't do to rely on a caster every time." And the spell has a cost of opportunity but he doesn't mind if it's just for a while.

Her armor leans into an almost-sliding sort of jog alongside the carriages. It's, annoyingly, just slightly faster than the carriage itself is- Which she solves by steering left and right a bit to stay in the same relative place. 

"I've never learned a language before. Not - deliberately, anyway? It seems like this effect ought to be helpful for that, maybe I should write down what I can tell about it while I still can, hmm? I definitely want to learn how you're doing all that, it does not seem to be the same thing I do at all but it's still giving me Sparky feelings! How did you get started, Otho? I assume many people learn this thing, from context clues."

"Not as many as could learn it, I'm afraid. There aren't enough wizards to teach everyone who could learn, and most people can't afford to pay for the tutoring anyway."

"My parents are traders, they could afford to send me to school to learn to read and write and count. I finished the three-year program in one. They paid to have me tested, I screened well on cunning, so they got a loan from the Bank of Abadar, because they knew I could repay if I became a wizard. I went to live with my uncle in Almas, there's a few wizards there who run a school, they rotate through because none of them wants to be teaching full-time."

"I studied there for three and a half years. After the first two I could pay my own way, doing laundry and such - there's a spell to clean things very quickly, and it's so simple that we can cast it as much as we want to, so a lot of people work as 'laundry wizards', there's always a market for that in a big city. After I could hang some real spells and had my own spellbook, I went home and helped my parents for a bit, paid back the loan."

"And then I went adventuring!" He grins. "Met Viatrix and her Spears a couple of years ago. They were heading for Absalom and Sothis, and I really couldn't pass up the chance. Then we went back north and up the River Road, like you heard."

"Is there a lot of fighting? Have you heard of Paris? I've never heard of Absalom or Sothis or Lastwall or Mendev or any of the places you all keep mentioning... Paris is the largest city in the continent of Europa."

"Absalom is the largest city I know of. It's not the biggest on the continent, because it's on an island, but there isn't a bigger city in Avistan and I don't know if there's a bigger city in the world. There are three hundred thousand people living in it. I've never heard of Paris or Europa."

"Me neither," Viatrix confirms. "Our names for the continents are Avistan, Garund, Arcadia, Tian Xia... Uh, Azlant... And this bit south of Tian Xia, some people call it a separate continent but I don't know its name. Can you find Europa on a map?"

"Probably? It has a large inland sea - though the area south of the sea is called Africa, I think. The maps you've showed me so far don't look familiar, though..."

"How big is it? Is there anyone on the map it would fit?"

    "Are you sure you're not, like, from another plane or planet or something?" Spell translation of 'plane': non-contiguous region of space.

"We might be missing an inland sea somewhere, I'm sure we're not missing a whole continent."

    "There definitely isn't an inner sea anywhere near here. There's just lakes. Any further north and it would freeze over."

"Are you sure you can find this Europa on a map?" Most people don't know the names of the continents. Most people aren't a band of traveling Desnans.

    "Can you draw us a map?"

"I'm not entirely sure, we only had so many books. Paris is two hundred miles and change from London, I remember, it was relevant in a war history about 'the most densely patrolled stretch of air in Europa', and London and Paris were close on the maps - maybe an eighth of the width of Europa apart. Oh, I saw maps, I think I'd recognize it?"

She scribbles down her best quick recollection, and hands it over, naming each thing she labelled as they peer at it.

They pass it around.

"A sunken city... somewhere in the Steaming Sea?"

    "No, no, over here in the Linnorm lands -"

"None of the rest matches. How about the VAMPIRES? If that's Ustalav, and the Ice Lords are the giants up in the Crown, then this 'Black Sea' is the Lake of Mists..."

    "Nidal is not the cradle of civilization!"

"That would make Belkzen the Wulfenbach empire?"

    "No, see, there are pyramids south, that's Osirion, so this has to be in Avistan -"

"I bet there are pyramids everywhere, they're the simplest shape for a big pile of rocks -"

Eventually they are forced to conclude that the map doesn't match Avistan, and probably not Tian Xia either.

"Either your map predates Earthfall," Viatrix says, "or you're not from anywhere around here." Or she saw a made-up map, but that would be rude to say.

The snowstorm she was lost in was very mysterious and messed with all her tech and probably super magic somehow... It must be another world.

"Another world! Bless Desna, patroness of travelers!"

They have a start-chart, and a schematic of the solar system showing the other planets, but no maps. "How many planets did your system have, and which was yours from the sun? Golarion is third of eleven, but the eleventh is kind of weird and might not be a planet in the usual sense. There used to be two more but they collided and now there's an asteroid belt."

"There are portals between planets, supposedly, but they're very secret and well guarded and I have no idea where any of them are. Everyone agrees the elves have a portal to somewhere, but we have no idea where to."

    "Boss, please don't tell me we're running off into the nearest snow storm."

"Only if it's super magic! Otho, what's your reading?"

    "I didn't detect magic on the snowstorm! I was busy with the vrocks!"

"...are you alright, though?" Viatrix asks Waltana more quietly, "leaving home not by choice and having no way back can be hard..."

"I don't actually know. The books weren't consistent. I've heard six, eight, nine, ten, and twelve. And... I don't know, but the only thing to do about it is move forward."

Moving forward it is, then!

They rattle along for a few hours, at a speed that's only safe because the horses don't get tired and the carriages will disappear anyway and can be abused, and anyway they're all adventurers and can survive a little crash. They meet two mounted patrols, one of them escorting a supply caravan. Word about the vrocks is passed on, and they get resigned headshakes in return: people who serve on the border are used to this, and it's nowhere near as bad as it was during the last crusade.

Eventually the road leads them to a city. The land around it has been cleared for half a mile out; charred wood and blackened stone is everywhere, the remains of buildings and trees and vehicles and less identifiable things all mangled together, and the walls are unbroken but scorched in many places. Armed men are pacing the walltop and there's a queue at the gates.

In theory, the city guard checks everyone who passes through the gates.

In practice, it is counterproductive to pay more attention to the rich and powerful: if they have something to hide, they have the resources to hide it well. And adventurers come by on a regular basis, and they can be very exotic indeed, which means hard to understand and harder to profile. Worldwound tourism is a thriving industry and Kenabres sees a sizable chunk of it: complain as you might about callous foreigners who come in expecting to hire native bearers for a tour of demon-shooting, they don't dare turn away anyone who brings in much-needed money, and perhaps a chance of donating their fancy equipment to the cause if the demons happen to get lucky.

Even among this jaded lot, though, Waltana's armor raises some eyebrows. "What's that, then? If you, uh, don't mind me asking."

Her canopy is open, and has been since they were approaching this place. Her whole head is visible now, not just the top, a small modification.

Stone walls? Stone buildings? It does indeed seem kind of... Primitive. Where's the smokestacks, the power lines? How do cities work, she doesn't know. Is the gate guard like a Scout, or like the inner ring guards...?

Well. She pops the collar to reveal more of herself, glances at Viatrix for reassurance, then says, "Steam armor. I'm driving it. I... Have the ability to make devices like this. I also have weapons," she nods at the prominent boxy plasma gun on the armor's shoulder, "And I can make more things like this, with raw materials. I'm considering selling some?"

An exotic arms dealer (?) and smith (??) wanting to set up shop in the city is probably something the Inquisitors will want to know about!

It's not that the guard enjoys calling them in (they're busy! and scary!). And he doesn't think these people are any more likely to be cultists than the next guy (meaning about one in ten, in his private opinion); they could have brought in the armor in the carriage and no-one would have noticed.

But when he got this job, it was explained to him very clearly that among his duties was mandatory reporting. To wit, he must report anything the inquisitors would want to hear.

No-one is punished for reporting something unimportant. People with poor judgement are assigned to other duties, which just so happen to be... less enjoyable. And spending quality time with the inquisitors you summoned, explaining why you interrupted their luncheon, is its own kind of punishment. Gate guards who survive this develop a very good nose for prospective inquisition business.

"The Prelate will send someone to talk to you," he says resignedly. "Please wait over there, it shouldn't take long." This is a lie but such an obviously transparent white lie that he figures it doesn't really count.

Uhhhhhhh.

"...What do you think?" She asks Viatrix. "I don't know how you do things around here but, uh, lying seemed like a terrible idea. What's a Prelate?"

"Oh no, you shouldn't have lied! You probably didn't have to volunteer all that, either. But I'm sure it'll be fine! There's a church of Desna in the city and anything goes wrong they'll vouch for me."

    "I've heard of this Prelate, I think," Otho says, "he rules the city. Or governs it for the Queen, or something? I don't really know how Mendev works. Anyway, he's one of the local authorities."

"If he doesn't come around soon, I'll ask for an inn's address and tell them to have him come there," Viatrix says firmly. (The guard shudders.)

Luckily for the guard, someone does come fairly soon. He's wearing a red coat with a sword-in-a-sunburst emblazoned on its chest (and an actual sword at his hip). The guard bows respectfully, and whispers in his ear.

"You intend to make and sell weapons?" he asks. "May I ask where you are from?"

"Hi! I'm Viatrix and we're the Black Spears adventuring company. Yesterday we were attacked by a flight of vrocks, just south of here, and Waltana appeared out of a magical snowstorm and helped us fight them off, and then it turned out she's probably from another world."

He gives her a slightly disbelieving look.

"Look, I know it sounds suspicious, but I'm a cleric of Desna! These things happen to us!! And I checked and she's definitely Good!"

These things do, indeed, happen to clerics of Desna. Liotr knows this all too well, since he has a pain[*] of such clerics in his city and regularly runs interference for them with Hulrun to prevent well-deserved explosions (of temper and munitions both) from taking place. Adding another cleric might graduate them to a permanent migraine, or it might induce Ramien to leave the city; his fondest hope is for the lot to fly away one morning, like autumn butterflies, off to coccoon themselves in a distant tropical land. 

However, while he cannot stop a Good cleric from entering the city (nor does he truly wish to, no matter how much harder it makes his job), this supposed visitor from another world is a very different matter, and deserving of the deepest suspicion. He won't turn them away, of course, that would only move the plotting out of sight. Surveillance is the order of the day, and he even has a good excuse for it.

"The government may be interested in buying your weapons," he says smoothly. "Let us know where you intend to set up shop, and we will send someone over to inspect them."

And tail them every step of the way, of course. Like most of his tactics, it's far from a sure thing. Running surveillance is hard when adventurers can teleport and turn invisible and into fog and have a thousand other tricks besides. But stack enough nets on top of each another, and you may catch yourself a minnow - or a dretch, as the case may be. And so he spreads his nets as he smiles his friendliest smile.

Do they pass his alignment check? Of course they do, they wouldn't have proclaimed their alignment otherwise. Lie check, passed. Thoughts check? Are they disciplined enough to think only innocuous thoughts?

[*] The collective noun for a Desnan congregation established in a nominally Lawful city.

She passes the save for his Detect Thoughts, but doesn't seem to notice.

"Not necessarily weapons. Though it seems like you could use them if more constructs are around. Demons. More demons. I have ideas about powered wagons and other things. Uh, where can I find out the local laws? I bet they're very different from my hometown. And I can just move on if I'm not welcome."

"I did not say you were not welcome." Stay where I can see you. "To the contrary, we welcome trade, so long as it is honest and well-intentioned. I am very happy to hear that you intend to follow the laws" - not a typical Desnan concern - "and you are welcome to read them at the town hall. You can also consult the magistrates who judge civil disputes, although you may have to pay for their time."

This isn't the best venue for an interview; there are too many of them, all together, and Waltana seems to have gotten her back up. He saw them, and decided to let them in, and that's as much as he can do right now. "Welcome to Kenabres. All hail the Inheritor, may She prevail," he says, and strides away.

Um. Okay???

She will follow Viatrix into the city. Presumably they will find an inn or something. Inns often feature in the stories. And they don't have... Assigned residences... Or work shifts here? Are they treating the Black Spears like scouts, ranging far and relatively free when they do come in?

She doesn't want to leave her armor unattended, though it's inconvenient. Maybe she can find someone who could use hard labor done by machine? Or sell some spare tools or something?

Finding an inn is easy: there's a convenient signpost by the gate, advertising churches, markets, civic buildings, and several inns. They follow a sign to The Defender's Heart ("Best and biggest! Parties welcome!")

The city is built on a hill, and its bulk hangs over them, with two more concentric walls visible. It cramps an astonishing amount into a few square miles: rich houses with lavish gardens and cramped tenements, well-dressed people passing beggars in rags, men and women with skin every shade under the sun (green not excepted), some twice the size of others, sporting fashionable tail and horns and wings and the latest fashion in metalwear. Everyone seems to be going somewhere, and everyone seems to be ready to stop and chat or stare or run away at the sight of well-armed soldiers.

There's a farmer's market, vacant now except for a few stalls, and shops selling everything from fish to nails, and people wearing twenty different sigils and liveries and stranger marks that might be fashion or the symbol of a holy order's vow (or both, for Shelyn's followers). It's all rather overwhelming, if you're not used to cities with more strangers than locals. Kenabres is the crusaders' staging-ground for the eastern border, and the site of the Fourth Crusade's greatest battles, and four out of five of its residents weren't born here and don't plan on dying here either.

The inn is also in the lowest ring, on the far side from where they came in. It's got a stable and a big yard for the carriages (though theirs are going to poof after they unload them), a big common room and a bar (mostly empty, at this hour), and enough rooms upstairs to let them rent one each (they don't, to the innkeeper's pretend dismay). The prices are a balance of high (adventurers!) and low (this is the poor countryside of a poor country, not the Inner Sea) and Viatrix gives every indication of not really caring either way.

They can have a bath and a change of clothes, hot dinner will be served in an hour. Would they like to rest, or go out, or maybe chat with the bartender (buy one drink, get one chat free)?

She locks down her armor in the carriage yard, but feels unsure about just ... Leaving it there. The door here, unlike the one on the scout depots, is not big enough for it. Of course not.

Also, "...How does this place even still exist??? The roads were laid out by a drunk, the buildings aren't going to any kind of standardization or code, there's filth everywhere and probably no kind of competent drainage or sewerage, the signs are confusing and unclear, I don't see - work assignments, or resource storage, or tramways or- Anything else a competently laid out city is supposed to have-" She waves vaguely. "It's so loud. Is there even anyone in charge?"

It's a small city in a poor country, with adventurers and crusaders and occasional demons blowing through, and no budget for anything that doesn't pay for itself in a month! Any spare money goes to wall repair!! Who cares if the streets smell a bit?

Otho clears his throat. "It's no metropolis, that's for sure! Cities like this are rarely planned, they just - grow and agglomerate. I doubt they built those inner walls for defense in depth. The city just kept growing outside the walls, and then they added more walls to protect the new bits. But they didn't have the time and money and, frankly, foresight to plan out the new bits. Because they weren't part of the city when they were first built, you see, people just built more houses outside when the lots inside got too expensive."

The rest of the men join in.

    "What drains? It's a hill, water just flows down the gutter -"

"You shouldn't put sewers in a city, they tried that in Ostenso and the next year a plague of dire rats carried off all their babies -"

    "They must have warehouses somewhere, every city stockpiles food and stuff, if we haven't seen them that just means they're well hidden -"

"They had to get adventurers in special, I heard, to get rid of all the rats -"

    "I bet they'd get fiendish rats here if they tried -"

"What's wrong with the sign? It said That Way to the inn and it was that way-"

    "We didn't check the other way, maybe the sign lied and there was an inn every way, how would you know -"

"What's a code for buildings? Do you need, like, to know a secret cypher to decode the house signs? That's so cool -"

    "Tramways like in a mine? This hill isn't steep enough, regular carts should be fine -"

"I'd like it if the streets were cleaner."

    "You can always hire a laundry wizard."

"A building code is laws on how to build things so you don't have houses collapsing into each other or starting a fire that spreads everywhere or anything. And well, of course you have to have someone patrol the tunnels, that's what the guard is for, that's- Fine, fine, there's lots of demons, that's a problem, but it would be cheaper once it's set up at all and so much cleaner- Argh!"

"Fire-resistant houses are very important to cities! Some places have officials inspect new buildings and make sure they're up to snuff. I don't know if they have law about it, besides the official saying it's alright. I suppose you could ask."

    "How'd you make a house fire-resistant?" someone asks. "Is it a spell?"

"I don't know," Otho says, "I had mine built out of stone." Wizards, like the third little piggy, all dream of the day they reach third circle and learn Fireball, and accordingly never build their towers out of sticks or straw timber.

Most of the houses around them are in fact built out of bricks.

    "What about if they collapse?" someone asks.

"Then you have only yourself to blame, don't you? Collapsing houses don't risk the whole city, they're not dominoes."

"Collapsed houses are a cost to the rest of the city. Look at that lot, not being used, being ugly, maybe crushing someone unwitting on its way down, and all the noise and trouble of the cleanup. I don't actually know how cities work though, apparently?"

Her confusion is confusing, and might be hard to unravel!

"People who own houses want them to be built well. And builders want to build them well, so people will hire them again, and probably just because people want to do good work."

"Lots don't stay unused for long. If the owners don't rebuild the house, they'll sell the place to someone who will. People want to build more houses, that's why the city keeps expanding."

"Maybe if a lot of houses collapsed, the city would start inspecting the rest? But it's pretty rare actually, I don't think it's a big problem, not like fires."

"...Nobody assigns them? I guess that's why there were a few huge ones?"

"Assign lots? What, like a lottery? Why would they do that? People buy the lot they want, they don't want one assigned at random."

    "If you can't afford to buy a lot, then you can't afford to build a house, building costs a lot more than just the empty space! Unless it's somewhere important, like next to the biggest church. Why would you assign lots to people who can't pay to build on them anyway?"

"The big houses were built by rich people who could afford to. What were you expecting, someone to stop rich people from building big houses?"

"...So, at home, the people who work in the refinery get houses that are near the refinery. And the people who work in the farms get houses near the farms. And so on. So nobody has to walk very far when their shift starts, and everyone is close to their district's cookhouse and infirmary. Money is more to buy - tools and stuff, or nice clothes."

People who work somewhere probably buy houses nearby! The city isn't very big, though, it's not a huge deal to walk across it once or twice a day, if you happen to live far away from work.

People who work on farms have houses there, they don't live in the city, they just deliver the food to it when it's ready to eat. There are lots of small farming villages, some of them quite far away!

Who... gives the people houses near their workplace. Where do they get houses from to give out.

What happens if a person starts working in a new place, then they wouldn't live near their work anymore?

"Most families don't all work the same job," Viatrix adds, "someone's going to be going across the city. And then your children grow up and take up four different apprenticeships all in different places and what are you going to do, kick them out of the house?"

??????

"The Captain does. Or rather, the central ring people do it on his behalf, along with keeping all the infrastructure running, sending out scouts, managing education and planning for the future... He's kept us safe from the outside's constant wars for at least a century. And then... They get assigned a new place and move there? The houses are mostly the same so it doesn't make much difference? And there's interdistrict trams running every five minutes if you do end up working somewhere else. I know that this place very much... Does not do any of that."

"Sounds like you have a ruler who manages a lot of things?" Sounds like a tyranny, she doesn't say, it's bad form to assume. "Most places don't." 

"People need different houses though? Big families need bigger houses, some people need workshops or shops downstairs, someone wants a stable for their horse... Isn't it simpler for everyone to build what they need? That way the, uh, Captain doesn't need to know or track what everyone needs. And if someone rich wants to pay a lot for a big house, why should they live in a small one?"

"Aren't you contradicting yourself? If it takes only five minutes to get across town, why does it matter if you live close to work?" These trams sound interesting.

"These people keep having to fight off demons. There was another big war - they call it a crusade - that ended only last year. It's not very safe, but I don't see how more uniform housing would help when the Storm King comes calling."

"...It all makes sense to me but I don't want to think about this any more right now. And our defense against things like the Storm King - who's supposed to be long dead, by the way - is being secret. So I should maybe stop talking about it entirely."

Oh right, secrecy.

How about dinner? This place has actual hot food, not trail rations! Fresh bread and fish! Soft cheeses! Numerian brandy! The house honeyed goose recipe! Gingerbread houses!

(Not real ones, Viatrix clarifies, just house-shaped gingerbread.)

It's delicious!! The honey goose in particular! The gingerbread too, it's a CAKE! And cheese! It's all Weird, but very good! She takes a small sip of brandy before deciding it's much like potato vodka and declining any more with a bit of a scowl. Do they have coffee, or croissants? Those featured in one of her books...

They do have coffee!! It's often requested by adventurers from the Inner Sea region. Does she want it black or with cream (cow or goat), honey, cider, cinnamon (imported and costing even more than the coffee), or a long list of other spices... and a red umbrella, on the house!

(Otho turns up his noses; they may import coffee this far north, but they can't brew it right. All the extras are just there to hide the fact it tastes wrong, as anyone who has visited both Absalom and Sothis will tell you.)

They have sweet pastries. They're not croissant-shaped, but they make up for it with gusto and lots of sweet cream and sweet fruit and raisins and sweet dough and all-around sweetness. (The working adventurer doesn't need to worry about burning off calories.)

She's never had coffee before!

...Well! That's bracing!

The sweet pastries are very good. She's curious what kind of oven the inn uses and if she could make it BETTER. Or possibly make some other sort of device- A pump to bring up water? Lights? What would ordinary people around here buy, device-wise?

They're... not sure what devices exist that they don't have already? ("Don't look at me," Otho says, "I went to Absalom for the magic, not for gears.")

This city already has water pumps! It's famous for it! (Otho doubts that little frontier cities can be famous for things.) They're hundreds of feet tall and they bring up river water into big reservoirs up by the cliffside. And then the water flows down into the rest of the city through pipes and aqueducts, so they don't need any more pumps, it's all downhill from there.

The inn has little lamps enchanted with Continual Flames, which don't smell or smoke like real oil lamps, but only rich people can afford these. If she could make them cheap enough, or brighter so you wouldn't need as many, there'd be a market for that. How can a device make light if it's not magical or burning something?

What other devices are there? Crossbows? Looms? Distilleries? Musical instruments? 

By the same light as forge-fire, stuck in glass! They can definitely be brighter! She doesn't know how much things cost around here yet! Or how magic works. Hurrah, INFRASTRUCTURE! How do they work, how are they powered, do they filter the water? Better weapons than crossbows. Looms, yes, distilleries yes! Musical instruments, probably! Clocks! Message devices! Alarms! Prosthetic limbs! And STEAM ENGINES, to provide motive force to just about anything- A wagon, a pump, a bellows, a platform so people don't have to walk up stairs, a giant arm like her armor to move crates and things with...

They're not going to tell her how the water-pumps work, that's one of the city's most guarded secrets! (That means they don't know.)

The water is tested and if anything's wrong the priests purify it. Filtering only helps to keep out sand and fishes and such, it doesn't help if the water is poisoned or tainted.

Self-driving wagons would be useful. If they cost less than mules and horses, and broke down less often than horses break a leg, and if they could be repaired when that does happen, as easily as buying a new horse. They kind of doubt this is possible, mobile mechanisms are not that reliable, unless they're magical like golems. Maybe she means golems? 

Prosthetic limbs? How would that work? Maybe a machine could make your leg move, but how would you tell the machine when to move it?

Machines to replace... walking up stairs? Why? What's wrong with stairs? 

All the rest sounds nice, if it's better or cheaper than existing stuff, which has the benefit of existing, and also not making any steam, that sounds dangerous.

Also: BETTER CROSSBOWS!! Better weapons than crossbows! (One patron volunteers that longbows are better than crossbows and is shouted down.)

This room is full of adventurers and retired adventurers (including the innkeeper and bartender both) and regular soldiers and other people who run either towards or away from demons for a living (Black Spears not excluded). They are extremely in favor of better weapons!! She should drop all her other ideas like replacing limbs and stairs, and make them some better weapons, right now! Someone shouts for a prosthetic weapon and this is taken up enthusiastically by the crowd.

There is maybe an implicit assumption here that she will finish dinner first, and possibly even wait until morning, but if she can't take some good-natured egging on, she shouldn't have offered them BETTER CROSSBOWS.

"You can totally get diseases and lots of poisons out with good enough water filtering. And if stairs aren't a problem you can build a dozen houses on one plot. I can test fire my STEAM GUN outside in a bit if someone has a tough enough target! I need to know how much things cost around here too, before I set a price! It'll be a lot of iron and brass and copper and several other things! I'll probably have to make everything from scratch! Someone let me see the crossbows you use NOW, making that even better might be easier!"

Crossbows are produced! Their main shortcoming is the time and strength it takes to reload them; you have to put them down, brace with your foot, and frantically spin a winch or windlass while the enemy closes in. There are lighter models that let you quickly push on a lever, but they're not powerful enough to penetrate armor or hit anything far away. 

If they could reload crossbows very quickly, they would be able to launch several volleys before closing with the enemy, or when defending fortifications.

Or if they could make them hit harder (without taking even longer to reload), they'd be able to hurt even the strong demons that usually shrug off regular bolts. When they build them that strong, they become too heavy to carry into battle, or even to aim quickly. They have those on the wall.

Crossbows can be enchanted to hit more reliably and do more damage (someone shows her a mildly enchanted one), but it's too expensive to make them even twice as strong as they are normally.

Someone volunteers to be the TARGET for the STEAM GUN and is immediately shouted down. They have a pile of firewood in the back that she can shoot at, if it doesn't risk setting it on fire or blowing it up or summoning a vengeful tree-spirit. For more risky stuff, and longer-range practice, they need to go out of the city (the nearest gate is much closer than the one they used to come in).

"It's getting dark out," someone objects.

    "Demons have darkvision and so should you."

"I won't serve you drinks outside the city wall," the barman warns.

    "Oh. Well, the back yard is still good, right? To the logpile!!"

Huh! Well, there's some things you can do with SPRINGS and GEARS, but it might be easier to skip straight to other methods of FLINGING THINGS. There are a lot of ways to accomplish that task, really! No tree spirits, no fire. There may be some blowing-up, but it's fundamentally like hitting it really hard, not like Fireball. To the log pile! 

The steam gun is attached to her armor and looks like it weighs about a hundred pounds. There's a shiny brass cone on the front. She clambers into the armor, with its meaty metal fists, and walks it over towards the wood pile.

...She is still grounded enough to check what the wood pile has for a backstop. And what's shrapnel-able around here.

There's a tall wooden fence around the backyard. In the opposite direction, there's the inn wall, built from stone for the first floor. It's hard to say whether it would backstop something that went through that whole woodpile, but it should stand up to one or two logs miraculously flying free of the heap.

(The bystanders aren't... really... expecting her to gun to be much more powerful than a big crossbow. A logpile is a perfectly valid target for crossbows!)

Most of the spectators are sharpnelable! An unlucky bolt-sized splinter flying straight back at them could really ruin someone's night. In recognition of this, they'll mostly hide behind corners and the stable beams when she fires the first shot.

Uh-huh. It seems like a prudent idea to clamber back out, and adjust a valve and remove half the steel balls from the little cartridge.

"Behold the strength of high pressure steam! This is at half power!" She announces, then points and- Ksssshhh. Wood pile takes 6d6 bludgeoning damage.

Thhunkkkkk.

The shots go though at least four logs before stopping, leaving a gaping mess of splinters and wood-dust. The whole pile sags inwards. A few logs roll off. Smaller pieces fly everywhere, but mostly back at Waltana, who is protected by her armor.

The crowd is very impressed!

"That's no crossbow!"

    "That's more like a sling. A heavy sling, with lots of bullets."

"Did you see the hole it made? I bet it'd go right through a man - er, demon. Cultist! I meant cultist, ha ha..."

    "It's not piercing, though, less good against armor."

"With power like that, who needs piercing tips?"

    "If it was piercing it'd go through a demon and right into the next one, whoosh!"

"Don't get carried away, it's even slower to reload than a crossbow! You saw she had to get out the armor to do it, no way that's happening in a fight."

"I'd make you pay for the mess," the innkeeper says cheerfully, "but the whole pile of logs costs less than your dinner. Just don't kill my patrons!" This last is accompanied by a mock glare at Waltana. "They're my only source of income and friendship in these dark times."

"Well, good thing I have people wanting to buy weapons, aye? Even if it'd be nice to make something peaceful instead. If you have any petty repairs I can do to make up for it, I find that relaxing, to a degree, and there's very little chance I accidentally turn anything into a weapon."

And turning to the crowd, "This is a jumbo version, armor mounted! Hand-held, it would fire one, not six- Though a similar level of power! Magazine loaded for rapid shooting! That's the might of STEAM! Explosive force, contained and released in just the right way! And I assure you I can fire it in rapid succession if I'm not moderating it down for safety- Only when it's drained completely, is a long reload needed."

They... don't really have mechanisms for her to repair. Not at the inn, at least. 

Blowing up the logpile is fine!  This inn caters to adventurers, it's run by a retired adventurer, this is Moonday. And they can still burn the chunks of wood, they're just a bit inconvenient to gather up.

A ranged weapon that fires rapidly (like an expert archer) but doesn't require lifelong training (like a crossbow)! With jumbo versions for the belted adventurer! Defense emplacements! The crowd is enraptured (except for a couple of expert archers). 

How many times can it shoot? Where does the steam come from, is it just like boiling water? Can they take a really big cauldron and make a really big fire and just keep shooting?

Could they be maintained and fixed by people other than her? By regular blacksmiths? Could they be replicated? ...do they come in prosthetic versions? (The last question comes from the innkeeper, who is missing his left arm below the elbow, and currently has a rather crude prosthetic hand that is nevertheless quite adept at holding a mug.)

Speaking of archers, Viatrix needs to go find the temple of Abadar to get the resurrection insurance paid out, and then she needs to find a powerful cleric and pay them to prepare Raise Dead twice tomorrow. Does Waltana want to come with or stay and tinker? 

The steam comes from boiling water, see how she sticks some of the shattered pieces of firewood into this bit on the back, the flames are well-contained, transferring ALMOST ALL of the energy directly into the water tank! See how she adds a bit more water to account for what's being lost to shooting! With a big enough boiler and furnace and people feeding it fuel and water constantly, they could totally just keep firing. A competent smith who's not a total idiot ought to be able to maintain them well enough, in her opinion! If they buy her a few hundred pounds of steel and some brass and maybe bits of other things and a place to work she can totally make more- Rapid firing, hand held, defensively emplaced, built into an arm, you name it!

-Uh. She will totally go with Viatrix to the people who sell fucking resurrection insurance, though! That sounds like an incredibly important institution that she wants to get in on!!!

Kimroth the innkeeper seconds the addition of a "place to work" to the shopping list; chopping wood is harmless fun but a forge in his back yard would be pushing it.

Steel and brass (and coal and charcoal, if she wants a hotter flame) can be bought! They're not even very expensive. If stocks start low out it might take a while to arrange bigger shipments and then they might become expensive, but a few hundred pounds is fine. She should choose a workplace and they'll figure out how to get her the raw materials she needs. (This crowd is adventury enough to pool together some gold to loan a stranger who promised them a NOVEL WEAPON. You only live once!)

Most smiths set up shop near Southgate: the rents are cheaper and the market is right next door. Though if she wants the very best, Joran Vhane is the man to beat: with over a hundred years' experience, he's practically a local legend. He  usually works on hard projects, though, like seriously magic plate. If she can impress him, maybe he'll make her an AXIOMATIC BOILER.

"Abadar's church sells resurrection insurance! And a lot of other stuff, but that's one of the staples."

"You can't buy your own yet, because you don't have money - if we really had to head into danger tomorrow, we could loan you enough, but the insurance would be very expensive, because we'd be heading into danger. That's the other problem - it costs more for people who take more risks, and you're an unknown right now, unless you promise to sit in a safe room for the next year." She wrinkles her nose. "We buy for everyone on the team, and share the cost. Then whoever died pays for the Restoration themselves - uh, that's a second spell that makes you as strong as you were before, without it you get weaker every time you're raised. That way people aren't too reckless."

"Uninsured Raise Dead costs... anywhere from five to eight thousand gold, I think? The insurance also makes it so the price is the same everywhere, you can buy it in any temple of Abadar and then get the raise somewhere else, like we're doing now."

"If the priest of Abadar is high level enough, we can just get them to raise dead themselves, but if they're not, we'll need to find the local cleric of Iomedae or whoever else has a big temple here. Maybe one day I'll be able to do it myself, that'll be cheaper. Ah, most of the cost isn't casting the spell, it needs a big diamond that's destroyed as part of the process."

"There's a legend that in old Azlant diamonds were as cheap as glass, and that's how they became so powerful and taught half the population to be wizards, but everyone kept raising the dead and casting Miracles and Wishes and eventually the diamonds ran out and Azlant fell and here we are today. And ever since, wizards have been trying to make more diamonds, but that's the one thing magic can never do." She grins. "Which is why we Desnans travel instead! All the diamonds ever mined on Golarion would make a mountain, but what if there's a whole planet made of diamond out there?"

"Diamonds are-"

STOP. Don't say it. 

-But she doesn't stop thinking it. Diamond-tipped mining drills and drill heads, or rather, diamond-dusted, technically speaking- They were at least more common in Europa and the far north. Wasn't the Spark Marielle de Cortez supposed to have used enormous rubies, diamonds, and other gems to do incredible things with light?

She could make a diamond. Couldn't she? It's just carbon.

...The Spark isn't chomping at the bit inside her about it, but it's not saying 'no', either.

Stop. Don't THINK it too loudly, lest you be tempted to say it.

"-Why would it be diamonds in particular, I wonder, though. Is the crystal structure important or something?"

"I don't know! Maybe Otho knows. There are spells that use rubies, too, and maybe other kinds."

She follows Viatrix towards the temple.

"I might find myself splitting off from you all sooner than I thought, if there's really such a huge market for weapons here. It makes sense, with the demons... But I still don't quite like making weapons. What if the demons get their hands on 'em? I don't know how to make them - good aligned or whatever-"

"It speaks well of you, that you don't like making weapons. Why do you feel that you have to, if people want to buy them? I'm sure there are other things you could build instead."

"I'm no expert, but as I understand it - enchantments like that are additive. You can make a weapon that bites Evil users, or that's much more effective against demons. But you'd be starting with a regular weapon that anyone can use, and  adding the enchantment, every time you make one. And someone Evil might still figure out how they work and make one of their own."

"If you want to mass produce anti-demon weapons and give them to strictly Good people, you could go to Lastwall - the country, not their border forts - and talk directly to their government. You can definitely trust them to - never leave you worse off for talking to them, I think is the way they'd put it. If your weapons are as good as they seem, they will probably buy as many as you can make, or the knowledge of making them if you're willing to sell that. There are other Good countries and organization, too, if you're not set on fighting demons."

"I'm at least going to make a few, since they're so excited about it and it'll probably be profitable. Get me established." She nods in the vague direction of back-towards-the-inn. "...And for personal protection too. I just... I don't know what to do next I guess, if there's not a maintenance and build queue waiting in the clerk's hands each morning when I go to my workshop."

"Some people are happy living like that. With a routine, clear goals, a sense of accomplishment. And of course there's nothing wrong with it, if it makes you happy!

"If you're used to that" - if that's all you've ever known, she doesn't say, because she promised not to pry - "it can be hard to adjust to newfound freedom, if it comes at the cost of old certainties. I do think that if you make the effort, you'll likely be happier living your own life, and not being told what to do by anyone else."

"You're probably making the right choice, here. Try different things, don't commit too much, don't get stuck in a new rut. See what's out there before you consider settling down. And don't feel pressured to quickly find your path in life - it's perfectly normal to spend a while wandering first!"

"Maybe the insurance people will have opinions on how much I should charge for a steam gun, given the talk about bank churches around the fire last night. You know, there's a travel church in Europa- The Corbettite Railway. You'd like them. Though again, I only know them through stories..."

Snicker. "The insurance people have so many opinions on how much everyone should charge for things! It's practically the only thing they ever have opinions about! Well, and they don't think you should do things for free. Be careful they don't charge you for telling you the price."

"A travel church sounds great! What's a railway?" She got the sense of a method of travel, but the word-combination used is unfamiliar.

"Steel roads, where a train of dozens carriage wagons thunder along faster than a horse- The fastest way to get from city to city, and the only way to quickly cross the regions west of Wulfenbach. The schedule is holy to them- If they say they're going from Bremen to Paris in eight and a half hours, they will be in Paris at the end of eight and a half hours even if they have to drive through fire and flood."

She has a brief vision of Abadar taking his travel domain as seriously as he does banks, a herd of thundering steel wagons bearing the Golden Curves. "Wow, we don't have anything like that! It sounds very useful? And very Lawful, too. Here we don't have anything better than ships and horses. Well, wizards can conjure tireless horses, like you saw, but most people aren't wizards. Some wizards and clerics can teleport a few hundred miles and bring a few people with them" - mostly in an inconvenient bag - "but there aren't many wizards that powerful, and most of them don't sell their spells, and so it's pretty rare and expensive."

"Very powerful clerics, like I hope to be someday, can Plane Shift to another plane and then shift back anywhere in the world, except you land off hundreds of miles off target so then you also need to Teleport to get where you're going. But when you've got the full package you can go anywhere, it's amazing." 

"Nice! A railroad has got to be easier for moving actually significant amounts of people, though... Or airships. I mostly only have theory for those, my Spark seems to run more towards heavy metal and lightning. We have - themes or styles, you could say."

"Ships that... fly in the air? Why are they still ships, do they also sail on water? I don't think we have anything like that and if we did it would be powerful magic. We do have spells for personal flight, but they're so expensive they're generally not worth it."

She hasn't missed the implication. "Railroads sound like heavy metal, could you build those?"

"I'm not sure why they're still ships, but everyone does seem to call them that. Probably their operation is more like a ship than it is like a wagon caravan. And I probably could! Staring with some small scale experiments first, of course. Somewhere flat and not too terribly far, to try it. You still need the rails, and that's expensive."

"A railway that doesn't go terribly far sounds a bit silly, but you probably have to start with small steps. I have no idea where you'd want to build one, though. The Abadarans will know who to ask, if it's an experiment in need of funding and not something useful in its own right, but might lead to something bigger down the road. Maybe there's an obvious answer but this really isn't my domain."

"The material and economic conditions here probably change things a lot. I think iron is cheaper for us, it's everywhere at home. Iron street lamps, iron benches, iron stairs, steel-framed carriages, steel boxes for food."

Abadar's temple is back by Southgate, an imposing-looking building with narrow stained-glass windows illuminated after sunset with Permanent Flames. Abadar's Golden Arches curve over the entrance. A notice-board by the door lists the daily channel times and current prices (two copper per head; the temples that do free healing cover the city's needs, now that the crusade is over, but some people will pay to avoid the crush.)

The front half of the building is a hall, with densely packed seating and a pulpit; the back half is divided into many small rooms. Another helpful sign informs them that the Priests are In, and directs them to the appropriate queue. 

There are only a couple people in front of them; demand is higher in the mornings. Fifteen minutes later, they step through the door to meet a well-dressed man, with a golden key hanging from a heavy chain of office on his breast.

"Welcome to the Temple of Abadar in Kenabres, Mendev," he says rather by rote, "I am Banker Vissaliy Rathimus, how may I assist you?"

"I need to claim two resurrection insurances," Viatrix says, producing some official-looking stamped documents. "I have the preserved bodies in my bag. And after they're raised we'll want to buy insurance again."

"Certainly. I need to cast Truthtelling on you to verify your identity and that of the bodies. And I have one slot free for Raise Dead tomorrow. You can wait another day for the other one, or check with Iomedae's priests, they usually charge a hundred gold extra in this kind of situation."

There's some back and forth. Can she state her name, and those of the deceased, and their relationship. (Adventuring buddy, listed on the insurance policy.) Does she consent to a non-refundable Raise attempt by a Lawful Neutral cleric. Does she need to buy a Restoration too (no, she can cast that herself). 

Does she have an explanation for the deaths that will result in them not raising the next insurance premium alarmingly close to the uninsured market rate.

"...we were surprised by a flight of vrocks outside the border, where there shouldn't be any vrocks, and there was also a magic snowstorm that interfered with shooting them, and our wizard was mostly out of spells for the day, and we got unlucky in a bunch of ways that really shouldn't happen again."

    "Will you avoid future situations where some bad luck can lead to your being killed by a flight of vrocks."

"Well we can't just - not go to dangerous places! But we'll be better prepared next time."

    Sigh. "Let's revisit this after the petitioners are raised." He signs some more papers and gives them to her. "Please bring one of the bodies after nine tomorrow."

"Do you require anything?", to Waltana.

"-Business advice. I can make lots of things. And some adventurers have offered me a loan on unclear terms to make weapons, I'm very sure I can do it but don't really know how money - works outside of my home which is weird in secret ways."

"You should never take loans on unclear terms. Write out a contract that sets out the requirements from the delivered product, the penalties for late or incomplete delivery or complete default, and valid reasons for lack of performance. For example, that you're allowed to delay in case of some circumstances outside your control, such as delayed deliveries by your own suppliers."

"Try to agree on a mediator ahead of time, that you'll both trust in case of later disputes. You can always go to the courts, but it can cost money and time, and may create ill-will if you resort to it."

"You can also pay for advice in formulating the specific contract. There are some standard contracts that you can look at for free" - he pulls out a thick pamphlet - "if you return this later. You do still need to understand the contracts in order to adapt them correctly for your own case."

"If you want more detailed advice, please schedule a longer appointment tomorrow. An hour of my time costs seventeen silver." He flips open a calendar-sheet that shows he's free from ten till twelve in the morning.

"-I'll think about doing that, sure. Gotta learn Taldane properly first before I can read any pamphlets written in it... Nothing else."

Since he's charging for his time, apparently, she restraints several further questions. She guesses it makes sense? She's going to charge for the time it takes to build things. But it feels very weird somehow, still.

Speaking of, maybe it would be a good use of her time to pay attention to her Taldane knowledge and write down phonetic spellings of important words. That sounds like a good plan.

Then they'll take their leave.

"Abadarans are very Lawful," Viatrix explains once they're outside, "which means they care a lot about detailed contracts, so you always know where you stand. And it's not a bad thing, but it does have costs, right. Personally, I don't think you need a lawyer every time you agree to something. Contracts are important when people can't trust or understand one another. And trust is the basis of society, and of Good, so it's better to cultivate it and not rely as much on laws."

"...I think deciding something, and then maybe agreeing to hire an Abadaran to handle the dispute if there is one, might be good enough. Since everyone's very eager to have me get to work and honestly so am I."

"That's the spirit!"

Back to the inn? In a small city like this, sightseeing and shopping are best done in daytime; the stores and temples will be closing soon, and the the inner walls' gates close in a kind of half-curfew.

Back to the inn! She's pretty overwhelmed by all the everything, by now.

She will suggest to the various adventurers interested in sponsoring a steam gun or two that she's going to sell the first demonstration models of completed weapons at twice the cost of materials and workspace, and spend a while teaching about how to maintain and repair them to the buyers, and pay back anyone who lends her money to make them one and a half times what they spent, and if there's some sort of disaster like a demon attack she'll pay back what she can, and if there are any disputes later they'll hire someone from the temple of Abadar to settle it.

Great! They can take her to see prospective work-places in and next to smithies. Most of them are clustered near Southgate, close to the market and to Warehouse Square in the next tier.

...tomorrow morning, after some nudging by Viatrix. 

"How long are we sticking around?" asks one of the Blackspears.

    "At least two days, for the raises and restorations. Probably a few more days after that, Otho and I need to sell some spells and scrolls to pay for insurance."

"But it's boring here! Can't we do something fun while you're stuck here scribing?"

    "If you get killed without me, I'm not paying for your next raise. There has to be something interesting in Kenabres! They fought a whole war here just last year! There have got to be, like, sewers and dungeons and undead cemeteries and people who need an adventurer's help! You'll manage."

"We have a dragon!" volunteers one of the locals. "She fought off the Storm King!"

    "And an inquisitor! He fought - uh, lots of powerful demons!" He may have been about to say something else before catching himself.

"We have a library, research tower, crusading museum, historical cathedral, and the country's only urban druid."

    "...Why's that interesting?"

"Let him be, he always talks wizard shop when he's drinking."

    "Philistines! Don't bother coming to me to fireball the next cultists you find!"

"Oh yeah, that's what we keep Hulrun around for..."

The dinner party slowly breaks up. A few people promise to come back the next morning to help Waltana find a workplace and supplies.

"I still need to go make sure selling weapons isn't illegal..."

She spends a little bit of time sketching and doing general maintenance on the suit, though the coffee seems to have mostly worn off. Lots of cleaning, tightening, polishing, oiling, and the like that will make her suffer later if she neglects it. She also takes several of the most important/removable/valuable pieces out of her armor and with her to her room, in a fit of mild paranoia. And also sets it up to whistle loudly if disturbed too much. The rest of it can sit in a shed or under an awning or in a stable stall, whichever is most convenient.

"Illegal? Why would it be illegal? That man at the gates said the city government might want to buy some! That sounds like the opposite of illegal to me."

"...but, obviously, you should check if you're not sure." Viatrix has known her share of people nervous about the (lower-case) law, and there is absolutely a time and a place to encourage them to stop fearing it and to forge boldly ahead, but in this case she thinks checking should actually be safe and relatively simple, and hopefully serve to reassure Waltana. This place is run by Iomedans, it can't be too bad.

Kimroth the innkeeper offers to let Waltana lock her armor in a cell in his cellar. Free of charge, he's not using it for anything right now.

This turns out to be a literal prison-style cell with iron bars, tucked in among the shelves and barrels of provisions. Why a respectable inn has a barred cell in its cellar is anybody's guess.

She will gratefully accept, and then perk up as a thought strikes. "Locks and alarms! I need to make some for myself, honestly... Tomorrow."

Pleasant dreams!

Elsewhere, some of the bar's patrons are enthusiastically sharing what they just saw and heard... with some embellishments, like any good story.

"She sits inside a big metal golem that hits things for her!"

    "She called it armor, but I dunno, man. Plate armor is what, a tenth of an inch thick? Probably less. This thing, it's the whole inch and then some! You and your sword could hack at it all day and not get through!"

"And she has a bow arm! Point and click, click, click, pffpffpffpff - blew up a whole pile of logs, just like that! Not with fire, mind, she just tore them apart!"

    "Says she'll make us all some of those! Just get her to a forge and, poof! Army killers, I kid you not! Feed her cold iron and they'll kill demons too!"

"Well of course you can buy some too... I'll sell them to you myself, once she gives me my share!"

    "Put a really big one on a wall and she says it'll kill a dragon!"

"...present company excepted, of course."

    "No, crossbows, not bows. Anyone can use them! Point and shoot! A company of green recruits would go through regular adventurers like a hot knife through butter!"

"Hell, can you imagine Mendev giving them to conscripts? I sure wouldn't want to be in the demons' shoes!"

    "Nah, no-one's stupid enough to give dangerous weapons to conscripts. It'd be like cultists giving them to demons, just asking to be shot in the back, hahaha!"

"Hahaha! Oh, that's a good one."

    "Hahaha... ha... eh, right. So you said you'd sell me some? I hope the markup won't be too outrageous... ha, ha..."

She's tired and overwhelmed, but she has bad dreams. 

This city is a nightmare, ugly and brutish. She thinks she can trust Viatrix and everyone else, but what if what if what if. And Viatrix seems to think poorly of her home...

...Aimless, what if she missteps? Breaks things, wastes things, hurts people. She wants money, and tools, and parts, and is worried about what's to come.

-Vrocks screaming, scratching and prying at her nice safe canopy, claws inching through a crack-

She can't sleep. She gives it up at a point that might be termed early morning instead of late night. And goes down to where her armor is and furiously modifies things, cursing her lack of tools and lack of foresight and lack of actual good ideas to deal with this.

She'll make a WEAPON. Springloaded. Usually she has to resist this urge. But this time she wants one she can carry around. More and more of her armor is going to disappear, caniballized, because she can't just ORDER PARTS from precision shop no.3. But there's nothing for it.

She's still down there come sunrise.

One of the Spears sticks their head into the cellar. "Breakfast's on! ...aren't you going to get a forge for that stuff?"

She looks up from a crossbow-like construction.

"I really should, I'm going to run out of parts at this rate, just another way I'm stupid really."

"You're not stupid, you build stuff! ...don't sit there all alone, come to breakfast, it'll make you feel better." He's not sure how to cheer her up but that's not about to stop him.

"Is that really me, or my Spark? But fine."

She goes breakfastwards. She brings the crossbowthing.

The locals who said they'd be back are here! The crossbowthing gets cheers and grins.

After eating, Viatrix and the other Spears are going back to Abadar's to have one of their friends Raised and Restored, and then Viatrix can come with Waltana to look at forges, if Waltana wants her there.

Coffee makes her feel much better. And so does having a weapon.

She shows off the mechanism- It can fire thrice before the big spring needs rewinding- And then she's going to the city hall, actually. Maybe they can look at forges together after both errands are done.

A spring is disappointingly normal for a crossbow. Not at all like STEAM, what happened to all of the STEAM?

...also, they don't want to spend half the day following her around, they want to show her forges. They already thought of a couple that might do! Is she going to leave them hanging? That's really disappointing after yesterday's euphoria. They can't make her do stuff but, like, don't get guys excited if you're not sure you're going to deliver!!

A couple of them say they'll be around for dinner. She might find them during the day in such and such places, but they make no promises about that. Pointedly.

It still shoots three times! She's low on parts she doesn't have to steal from important armor pieces! And steam is relatively expensive and heavy.

Also, not that she doesn't trust random non-black spears adventurers, but she doesn't exactly trust anyone non-black spears at the moment. Also she didn't sleep well, grumble.

...She can check out the forges and figure out costs this morning, sure, but city hall is definitely happening at some point before actual weapons get made.

Great, that's more like it! 

(Steam is heavy? They thought it was lighter than air! ...nevermind, it's probably wizard talk.)

They're not asking her to particularly trust them! They'll help her find places and materials (or she can find her own), and they'll loan her some money, they're the ones trusting her not to explode a forge and skip town in the night.

Viatrix observes to herself that Waltana has only known the Black Spears for two days and has no great reason to trust them much more than she would strangers. She's not sure what to do with that observation, though.

Breakfast duly eaten, they set out again towards Abadar's temple.

(Well, they fought vrocks together, see, and then they didn't imprison or rape or kill her in the middle of the night or anything, like she was told is done to strangers by unscrupulous bandits out in the wild. She's already taken the emotional plunge of trusting them not to be evil.)

Aaaaaanyway, what are these forges like? What's the price of copper/iron/steel/cold iron/nickel/chromium/manganese/tools/chemical glassware...

First they'll visit Abadar's. The whole team should be there when one of their own is Raised, it's tradition. Don't worry, it won't take long!

Banker Rathimus is waiting for them! He takes them to a little room in the back, with a bed and a sink. Viatrix opens her rucksack, rummages inside, and pulls out a body wrapped in a cloak, rather like a conjurer pulling a rabbit from his hat ("don't worry, we got the worst of the blood off before Reposing"). 

Rathimus takes a sparkling little gem from his pocket (Viatrix gives a professional nod), grasps his Golden Curves pendant, and starts chanting. Everyone else looks expectant.

After about a minute of this, Rathimus unceremoniously pokes the dead man, and he coughs and sits up; his wounds start bleeding again for a moment and then rapidly close. Everyone else cheers.

"How's it been? Meet any nice azata girls? Guess not, if you're back here -"

  "Man, you missed an epic battle, I jumped on a vrock's back and rode it down, I was so cool -"

"He's having you on, he twisted his ankle and limped the rest of the day -"

The miraculously returned coughs, and asks for some water, and a Restoration or two would be nice right about now?

Viatrix takes out a small pouch, sticks her finger inside, and flicks another at his forehead; he looks immensely cheered up. "Get another one next week!", she admonishes.

"Come on, let's have a morning on the town!"

    "I really want a bath first."

"Man, ever since you died you're no fun..."

...Now they can go look at forges. (Otho says he'll check out the local library, and departs.)

There are two forges the use of which can be loaned out for a very reasonable sum, for part of the day and all of the night! They have fire hot enough to work iron or steel or mithral (but not melt it; there are dedicated crucibles for that); some metals require more specialized equipment to work.

Material costs: copper is very cheap. Tin, iron, bronze and brass are still fairly cheap. Steel can cost twenty to sixty times more than iron, depending on its quality. Cold iron is thousands of times more expensive than regular iron. (They keep ordering more, which drives up the price. Some idiot cultist heated their stock last year; luckily that doesn't do anything.)

The translation spell can't handle the other metals she mentioned, are they any of these samples? One is hard like steel but much lighter; another is harder than any other metal but very heavy.

The forges come with a standard set of metalworking tools: several sizes and kinds of hammers, tongs and pliers. Does she need something in particular?

There's an alchemist's shop, he doesn't make his own glassware but maybe if she can explain what precisely she needs he can find something to match?

Resurrectionnnnn. She will unfortunately have to wait before something like this is reasonable for her to get. At least a few days, possibly more depending on how well she can work in these conditions.

...No. No those metals are not what she's looking for, the metals she mentioned are all weird alchemical metals that are mostly useless on their own can be alloyed into steel for better steels. Has the alchemist heard of any of these weird metals? Also she wants some acid and a small amount of a few other things. There's a bunch MORE like that she wishes she had access to with equally weird names, as well, and will have to wrack her brain to try and remember what the ores look like, later. She won't be ordering glassware yet, too expensive for now and she might end up making it to her own needs, anyway.

Here- Just look at the difference between THEIR steel, and THIS steel from her armor, hers is stiffer, shinier, and actually slightly LIGHTER! Look- This is Krupp steel, face-hardened! She invites any and all adventurers to try to break through the 0.6in rear leg plate, since she already cut up the other one for material the other day. (Plus it pretty much won't corrode, that's the chromium (plus a fluoride coating)!)

She is DEFINITELY going to need HER OWN space eventually, it will need EXTENSIVE customization. And to spend about a month building the tools she'll need to get anything serious done. But she'll be able to make a nice batch of steam guns... Maybe with a lot more brass and regular-iron parts than steel parts, you really only NEED steel for the tank and the valves, given the price that steel is going for? Money is strange. Cold iron is expensive enough that she's only going to get small amounts of it and use it as penetrator tips on regular iron projectiles. She's going to need to make a REAL steel furnace later, grumblemumble...

She picks the forge with larger storage and non-forge workspace available, and arranges to come back that afternoon, and will likely switch to working nights as soon as she catches up on sleep at all. Making these weapons is going to take longer than she thought, maybe even multiple days.

The alchemist has heard of a lot of things but she'll have to describe them, the translation spell isn't helping here! Her steel is incredible but that doesn't help them figure out what went into it.

Acid is easy, everyone knows how to make acid, here's a flask. Industrial amounts available on request, 10 gp per 16 fluid ounces. If she just wants to etch something she should use conjured acid, it's a cantrip that many people can cast at-will, the acid disappears after a few seconds but the etching remains so this is actually more convenient than normal acid where you have to mess with exact amounts.

-She really needs to learn magic, it seems like there's a LOT, but no, she uses it to make rubber which is this stuff! Good for seals. They'll definitely have to talk later about her weird metals, but for now she will do math about how much money she needs in total and how much she owes various people, and then head towards City Hall.

City Hall is in the uppermost, oldest, part of town. They climb the hill, passing three sets of inner walls.

Old Kenabres is built around a cathedral bearing Iomedae's Radiant Sword, facing an open square surrounded by trees. It's probably bigger than any other structure in the city, although it's hard to judge since it's also on the mountain's summit.

On its other side stands the town hall. It keeps records, laws, copies of contracts and deeds and proclamations; the meeting-chambers of the city's magistrates, for any business that Lord Hulrun Shappok does not choose to preside over in person, being unimportant to the defense of the city within and without; the office of the city notary and his clerks; and a small library.

One of the clerks can help her find her way around, as long as he has no other customers pressing business to attend to. What is she looking for? Most visitors ask to read a document, or to copy one, or of course to notarize something or enter it in the records.

"I am from a place with very different laws and thought it would behoove me to, uh, figure that out? Also I'm going to make and sell weapons to some adventurers, a guy, uh, a Prelate I think - no, they said the Prelate would send someone so the Prelate is like the Captain, right? Anyway, he said to come tell the government when they're ready. They're not yet, though."

...he's not sure what she wants from him, then. What laws or possibly-illegal-things is she worried about? No-one just reads all the laws there are, there are too many, but most of them apply to something narrow like guild charters or nobles' estates or heraldry or churches and people are expected to know what kinds of things concern them and check the laws for that.

If she's from somewhere he's heard of like Lastwall or Cheliax or Osirion, he might have a good idea of which laws are most importantly different from what she's used to. 

If she's asking for an overview of... all the laws that regular people (or adventurers) are likely to encounter... he can try to give one but this is not legal advice he can't promise he'll happen to mention everything she might care about. 

(The Prelate is Lord Hulrun Shappok. He rules the city in the name of Queen Galfrey of Mendev; his word is law but only because he carries out the city and country's laws and is himself Lawful. He separately also heads the Mendevian inquisition.)

"...Maybe treat me like a small child that knows that hurting people is bad and stealing is bad, but not much else?"

...that sounds way out of his remit! He knows law, not Good! Does she even know what things do or don't hurt people?? Also, little children take years to teach!

"-Uh. Yeah, hmm. I just don't want to end up in trouble for something obvious and predictable that I didn't see, but I don't know what it is. Laws about... Making things? Selling things?"

...some things are illegal to have. If it's legal to have you can make and sell it, there are not separate laws about the making and selling. (Some places have guilds with monopoly privileges but Kenabres isn't one of them.)

If something she makes seriously harms someone else in a way that it really shouldn't have and wasn't advertised, she could be sued for that. Like, if she makes a magic sword that works fine except a year later everyone who's used it grows horns, there's no specific law against making people grow horns, but it's still illegal because it harms them. There's a technical difference between being sued (someone needs to accuse her in court) and prosecuted (the government is duty bound to punish her) but she should just avoid it. 

Also, if she has something that might be dangerous or harmful later, like keeping monsters in her basement, or a vat of alchemist's fire, the government can order her to stop doing it, even if it hasn't harmed anyone yet and there's no specific law about it.

Things that are illegal in themselves include:

 - Counterfeit coins. Coins are very illegal to make, even if they're exactly the same as official ones. If she has a bar of gold she's not allowed to stamp it into gold pieces. Melting down existing coin is theoretically a crime too but really no-one bothers about that law and if she just needs a little bit of silver the once then she can totally melt a coin and be fine.

 - Texts that accuse the Queen, Prelate, nobles, churches, gods, etc. of various (false) things, or promote the worship of banned entities, or those entities' unholy texts, or that generally incite people to disobey authority or to harm each other. They obviously don't publish a list of the things it's illegal to accuse the Queen of doing; she should just not make any accusations that she's not willing and able to prove in court. The banned entities list includes all demons and demon lords and these other gods but it's not meant to be exhaustive, if she's not sure if she's allowed to worship Someone, it's probably a bad idea. Good and/or Lawful entities are fine.

- Weapons enchanted to harm Good people more, and/or to work better when wielded by Chaotic Evil people and/or demons, except with the intent to send them out of the country. If you don't want to have to prove you're promptly exporting them, you can sell them to a trader that specializes in this and is known to the government. They'd have banned them entirely but they keep getting more off demons and cultists and they don't want to stop people from selling the ones they find, they just want them gone.

 - This Kellid drug that was a big problem twelve years ago and was banned

Some people have more restrictions placed on them, like slaves or prisoners or convicts, but she'd know if she was one of those.

Also, come to think of it, she can't make, like - fake contracts, or the coat of arms of a noble house on her own shirt, or public notices with lies in them. These are technically 'things' that can be 'made' but the important part is what they say and some (wrong, bad) things aren't allowed to be said, just like the lies about the Queen.

"So, make and sell a bunch of guns, maybe some cold iron ammo, sold to adventurers - seems fine as long as I don't steal stuff or hurt people or blow up someone else's smithy by accident or anything. And warn people that if the steam tank is punctured it might explode about that, and what circumstances they might fail to fire under. That pretty much answers what I wanted to know, so thank you very much, do I uh - owe you anything or anything like that?"

No, it's fine, he wasn't busy and it's nice to feel appreciated, have a nice day! (He is mildly weirded out by this interaction but it beats searching through tax records.)

"Feeling reassured?"

"Quite. Thank you for showing me around! Do you think the black spears will swing back by Kenabres at some point if I get a bit more settled in here and you leave without me?"

"Last week I'd have said no, this place doesn't have much to recommend it. But if you're here maybe we'll visit! And Desna moves us in strange ways, it's often unwise to make plans too far ahead."

"How long do you think you'll stay here? It's a real backwater, you know. If you're going to set up in a city long-term, and you have money, you can do a lot better. Even in Mendev, and definitely in Lastwall, if you want to stay and help with the 'wound."

"I want, like, at least a couple hundred gold pieces it sounds like, if I want to get started somewhere else, and ideally a lot more. A batch of steam guns... Shouldn't take me more than a week? But I keep lowering my expectations of what I have to work with and I really need to stop taking apart my armor any more than I already have. So maybe a week, or less."

"If it's just a week we might wait for you, if you want to come with us after! Or we could go fight some demons, then pick you up next week. If we want to go to the same place after that, of course.

"Do you know where you might want to go? We don't like to go back where we've been before, so it's south to Nerosyan for us, and then Numeria or more likely Ustalav, but you could go west instead and find Lastwall's forces at the border if you want to make it to their country. Or if you to go south to the Inner Sea, where all the big rich countries are, you should probably go down the Sellen all the way."

She glances at Waltana and sighs. "Sorry, I know the names don't meant much to you yet. You don't need to decide anything right now! Figure out what you're looking for first, then find the place that has it."

"Yeah, there's... A lot. A whole lot. I don't even properly know what to look for? I think I want somewhere I can buy weird metals and custom-order tools, and sell things that aren't weapons. But locking myself into a workshop isn't the whole thing either, even if I get total freedom on what to build now.

...Breakfast was nice, I want stuff like that. And I want to learn magic in case it works well together with the Spark."

Viatrix stops walking and looks her in the eye. "I want you to take what I'm about to say very seriously, Waltana. That was not a nice breakfast. It was the lackadaisical effort of a poorly trained cook from a provincial backwater, using imported intrying to follow a recipe she never saw done properly to please men with more money than taste!"

"You'll build wondrous things and sell them for a lot of money and be able to settle in any city you please and it's very important that you do not settle for, for so much less than you could have if you took the time to travel widely and see for yourself what the world has to offer!"

"...anyway. I can tell you about some places I've seen, and so can the others, and you can ask Otho about learning magic. And you can learn more about different countries and cultures, they're all very different from each other, which is why we travel around to see them. It matters a lot of what kind of people you'll live with and what they like and allow and care about, and not just what kind of tools they can sell you. Although some places probably won't sell you any tools, so you can strike off Osirion, and don't go to Cheliax or Nidal and - I'm rambling, sorry." She takes a deep breath. "You just seem so - uninformed about the world, and unprepared to make big life decisions until you learn more, and I'm afraid you'll do something because you don't want to spend a year traveling and learning things, and then a year later you'll regret it."

"-My home is probably bad, I get it. What about those huts we slept in, eh? What about this huge mess of a city? I doubt they get coffee and pastries for breakfast. I- Rrrgh. I don't really want to settle in here, no, the place is a mess and there's tons of demons around, right? I just- Going from nothing to everything is dizzying. I want to settle in a bit! I don't know."

"I didn't say anything about your home!! You told me not to ask about it and I haven't even thought about where you might be from!" or how Viatrix might travel there. "This place is a poor backwater compared to most of Avistan! - that's the continent."

"I'm sorry for implying your home is bad by comparison, and I definitely don't want to tell you what to do or not do. Many people who grow up somewhere poor and become wizards or artificers or adventurers move somewhere richer - that's probably what makes those places rich, people want to live there. I think of you as someone like that, a bit, because I don't know you well enough yet. I won't give you any more unwanted advice, I'll just be here so you can ask for it, or for help."

"I - rrgh. I'm being unfair to you. I want to not talk about it, but I also want to talk about it. ...Sorry"

"I'm afraid you have to do one of the two! Or you could talk to someone else. Or wait a day or two and see if it gets any clearer, I'm not going anywhere in the next two days."

"And I truly do appreciate it. Imagine if I had found the vrocks alone, or went into paroxysms of paranoia about whether I could trust strangers... Mmh, to the smithy and to work, I think."

She can go back to the smithy, where she won't be disturbed (the owner might come watch for a bit). And she can find one of the local adventurers where they said they'd be, to close the loan and arrange to actually pay for the smithy and materials.

She might also want to hire an assistant, smiths usually have someone feed the fire and work the bellows and fetch tools while they're working.

ACTUALLY, Order of business is: Finalize the whole loan thing first. Smithy second, start setting up for a nice bout of Spark-work. Remember that assistants exist when she doesn't have any power tools BAH!

Is it straightforward to go out in the street and yell about this until someone will come help for some number of coins? She won't subject Viatrix to menial labor. And she does have a hand weapon for herself now, in case anything happens.

Yelling will eventually work but probably won't land you a good assistant.

The forge-owner is happy to recommend one of his own assistants who already knows his way around and where his tools are and wants to keep working for his usual wage of 1sp/hour while someone else is using the forge, but he's not going to work through the night, he needs to work tomorrow's shift too. He'll ask around to see if anyone who knows their way around a forge wants to work nights for the next week.

She can find one of the adventurers she met this morning. To finalize the loan they need everyone who's pitching in to meet again that night, but they're willing to give her their part right now so she can start working right away.

-Yes, sure, fine, whatever gets her to WORK the fastest. She is getting IMPATIENT takes the money and hires the forge-owner's recommended assistant and brings in her armor because it's the only source of PRESSURIZED STEAM she can access right now. Aaaand let's go buy bar stock. Quickly So the key need is a small steam tank-

The things she's doing are fairly incomprehensible and chaotic (in the non-alignment sense). Hisses and crackling sounds. The whine of a drill. She does something with a draw plate that results in a machine that continuously makes copper wire from a stack of ingots. Lightning flies at one point, to create smooth welds between different parts. Copper and iron and steel are drawn out into odd shapes in processes that don't look like they ought to work, hammer blows shaping them far more than normal. Acid mixed with charcoal for some reason.

It's alright though. She has practice at this, at letting the Spark out just enough to make the impossible possible, but without being so frightening and destructive as to become a problem. The assistant will probably be fine as long as he doesn't actively get in the way. If he leaves when she really gets going, once things are set up and the forge is lit, she doesn't mind either.

...By dinnertime, the stack of odd parts has grown to encompass two large tables, and a weapon very similar to a short rifle except with a slightly bulbous 'main body', paired with a large backpack that has a few gauges and ports and a rubber tube connecting to the weapon, has taken shape.

...She packs up and puts things away. And takes the forge's draw plate out of her wire machine, and double checks that she didn't disassemble or incorporate anything else that wasn't hers.

Nobody here knows what a rifle is, but word has spread of the weapon she demoed last night (it went right through a pile of logs THIS big!). The assistant is suitably cautious about standing in front of the business end of any novel ranged weapon, even before the lightning starts flying around.

A few hangers-on who seemed curious about the process seem disappointed she's not staying to work through the night, but they leave when the place is locked up and don't follow her home.

If she stopped working at dinnertime, she can make it back to the inn in time for a hearty dinner!

The locals are back! They've heard she started working and will cheerfully offer her money.

Otho is telling everyone about the local library, called the Blackwing. "It has demon parts hung up everywhere! They say they're trophies but they creeped me out. I am willing to read about the best spells to use against vrocks, but I do not need the remains of those vrocks all around me! They do have a section on planar travel that was quite nice for such a remote location, I could spend a few more days there without complaining."

Otho and Viatrix have also started selling spells, a reliable source of income in almost any city; the trick is, for Otho, preparing the right spells, and for Viatrix, not undercutting local clerics by too much.

She is back in time for a hearty dinner! And showing off to various parties the FIRST steam gun! You have to fill the backpack with water and then heat it over a fire until this gauge gets into the yellow, and this is how you load the dart-shaped metal projectiles, which ought to penetrate at least somewhat- And then it'll fire once every time you pull the trigger until you run out of ammo or steam pressure, up to about two a second.

You're supposed to haggle, right? She'll haggle, or something, talking up the weapon and letting people shoot it at the wood pile, before gathering everyone offering loans up and working out the rest of her short-term loan. She plans to work on these for a few days, maybe up to a week, and then might move on. Maybe knocking out a dozen or two in total, with some variation, or maybe a huge one if any of them have a use for that.

"-Otho, how would you recommend I learn to read Taldane the quickest? Is there a usual way? I'd like to think I'm bright, but the Spark is confounding and doesn't lend itself to other things."

The STEAM GUN receives general acclaim! They didn't realize she'd have the first one ready the same day.

How much ammunition and steam can it hold? How quickly can it be reloaded? How heavy is it? Will it sometimes explode if used too long? (This question comes from a previously quiet man in the corner.) Is the backpack too hot to carry when it's steaming? How far away can it shooot? Can they drop a magic permanent fire in the water and have it always steaming? Should they put some holy water in?

One woman has a flaming dagger (it goes whoosh! on command) and wants Waltana to make a sort of slot for it to go into so it heats the water but can be taken out in one smooth movement if she wants to stab something, she'll bid more if Waltana makes one like that.

They definitely want a huge one! ...but can't really agree who should have it. (They are kind of assuming she can only make One Huge Gun, instead of many small ones.) They could all bid for it but they also have some experience gambling and can tell a fool's game. How about they not raise the price, here, and try to work something out later.

This is a noble attempt and it works for almost a minute but it only takes one fool, doesn't it. "A hundred gold!", someone shouts, and the game is on. The wiser ones quit early.

Desnan travelers know all about learning languages!

Like any other skill, you learn a language faster the more you practice, and also the higher the stakes. If she were an adventurer she'd look for ways to bet her life on her ability to communicate, like following orders in a fight with demons, propositioning people, or filing tax reports. Buuuut ordinary people can learn languages too (Otho remembers doing it before he was an adventurer!) and so there are some mundane techniques for her to practice.

Since she doesn't have a dictionary, she should write down a lot of word pairs while she has the spell, and some her-native-language descriptions of Taldane grammar. And then she should start spending time with the spell off, mingling with natives and listening to them and trying to talk to patient people who are willing to indulge her early efforts. She should run errands, like shopping, even if she can barely get them right. 

"Your biggest problem is that my spell lasts twenty-four hours. I could delay casting it next time, but then you'd have to find me if you had suddenly had to talk to someone. Ideally you'd have an item you could put on and take off, but there probably isn't one for sale here in Kenabres..."

Meanwhile, the spontaneous auction winds down, with a proud and possibly lucky winner who is going to offer her a thousand gold for the REALLY BIG STEAM GUN CANNON MAN-PORTABLE SIEGE ENGINE.

...their idea of what the BIG GUN will be like might have grown a bit in the telling. What, uh, exactly will it be capable of doing? And will it really be as man-portable as in their wildest dreams? 

(Things that are known to exist: ballistas! They are essentially huge crossbows, and can be made to almost any side and correspondingly power, but only a giant could lift and aim one. They're usually placed on fortification walls.)

She blinks owlishly at the demon fighting and propositioning bit of the advice, and decides to ignore it. Thanks Otho and writes down the idea of word pairs and immersion, planning to start on it later.

Talking about MECHANICS is much more compelling. A thousand gold will buy her enough steel and weird alchemical supplies that she'll customize it! Building big and powerful is easier than building small and powerful- Getting anything seriously capable out of a crossbow-size device would mean higher quality materials, more finicky construction, less easily repairable by someone who is not her. She was thinking- She starts sketching, a boiler and a large tube with a frontal shield built into a wagon- For a thousand gold she can make it self propelled and use a large tube to fire heavy shot, which can be explosive or just solid. This would almost mean you need two or three people, but even given how unnaturally tough the vrocks she fought were a 7.5cm shell exploding in one would turn it into chunks and probably damage its friends too. Though making the really good explosives is also expensive. Or, instead of firing large, heavy shot focus on rapid fire of smaller ones, like her wood pile-chunking demonstration, something quite similar to that that ends up weighing about a hundred pounds in total would be very doable. Or, skip the mobile wagon and focus more on making it man-mobile, something wheeled that a single strong person can haul around and drop prone to aim and fire, if not carry over the shoulder, maybe 3cm? Or go all the way towards man-portable and use the best materials she can get her hands on and probably lightning-tech to make something a single strong adventurer can carry and fire?

There's a lot of options and tradeoffs even for something so simple as using steam to fling bits of metal!!! She'll tune the result towards whatever he wants, or if he doesn't want to get into the nitty gritty, pick a size (smaller is less capable and harder for regular craftsmen to maintain) and a damage profile (high impact, rapid fire, or somewhere in the middle), and she'll figure it out! And she'll include a bunch of spares and also lessons, at this price!!