Tes'serana Whitgear

deliberately ties to her belt before swiftly walking back to join him.

"Let me get my things! I'll need to know what sort of tools you use. What's your primary crop here?"

As she rattles off her questions, she jogs back the short distance to where she'd tied her pony. From it's saddlebags, she takes a moderate backpack and a small pouch she carefully,

until they reach a hallway branching off the main hall.

of the Elven people native to the Underdark.

The Underdark," she continues, mindful that he's not of this world, "is a dangerous subterranean realm with its own unique ecosystem. There are some handful of humanoid races among those that call it home."

They enter as she answers, and she leads on

no matter her complicated feelings towards the Gondians themselves. The farm girl never quite grew familiar with the pace of industry.

"He should be j– Oh," she emerges from her thoughts to begin speaking just as he does, but quickly changes gears when prompted with a question. "Drow are a subrace

The tap of her cane against cobblestone turns to the twang of metal against metal. It fades, then, beneath the beating drum of hammers and pistons, finding strange unity in a discordant hymn. Each tradesman-priest they pass seems to know it by heart.

Always a little distracting,

"I thought harvest season might be the best opportunity to start offering. I know it's busy season, so I [promise] I'll keep any downtime to a minimum.

Well! Would you like to start now or should I come back another day?"

"Exactly!"

When her smile lights up her face, he could just about watch it turn to pure solar energy powering the machines of potential & possibility that fired in her mind. The last neighbor she'd visited had warned her off Kent Farm.

Good thing she rarely took second-hand reports at face value.

"is to ask if I can offer some assistance with your upkeep. I'm quite skilled with machines, pardon the bragging, and I'm looking for more practice. I would [not] charge for labor, only the more costly parts."

She continues with a little more ease.

"Oh, who could blame him?" She quips back. "Some mornings, we're out in the field so long I think my mittens will freeze onto me. No more tinkering if they did, y'know?

The reason I'm here," she becomes a little more direct again,

She just about beams. Introductions were always the hard part. She never knew quite how long she should talk, when she crossed over into rambling... but! He seems interested, and a [lot] more friendly than some. Not bad on the eyes eith.... ahem.

My name is Tes'serana, and I live on a farm about three miles northwest." Precisely so, if her math's right. She kept track of her radius so she knew how far to travel on her next loop.

"I was wondering if you make much use of mechanical equipment here on your farm."

"Hello!" She smiled up at him. Most humans were a fair bit taller than her, though she wasn't so short as the smaller races; she thanked her father for that, as well. Familiarity and his warm welcome put her at ease, and she moved right into her query.

"Lovely day, isn't it? I'm not sure we've met.

always passing through, visiting the farmers to offer a mutually beneficial proposal. Today, the reins turned her humble steed down the lane to @heirofel.bsky.social's farm.

She dismounted after a steady pace to the farmhouse, climbed its steps, and knocked politely at its front door.

for the night, and if not, she never minded a blanket of stars.

It's some years before she'll lose two limbs to her work, and more before illness would take her; she already knows to anticipate the former, thanks to eyes so much like her father's.

She was known in the area by now,

Years ago...

A young woman in simple clothes sat upon a weary pony as it trod down a worn dirt rode. In its packs, it carried tools, spare parts, and hearty, home-cooked food. She isn't far from home, and she'll likely return before sunset.

If not - hospitality usually offered her a bed

Ah! Thank you, I'm almost out. Must remember to go to the market...

Where were they... ah! Gond! Right. She squeezes through the crowd, wincing when she's jostled but pressing forward. Not far from the temple now, and soon enough they're approaching its steps.

"I try not to bear the weight of others' choices, lest I lock myself into complete inaction. Though, neither am I the true believer of Gond, believing in creation without limitation.

Fortunately, Master Wands keeps a close eye on anything patented within his employ. I sleep a little easier."

Reminder to self: follow up with Guard Howe regarding vault access door's lock failure. Replacements up to Master Wands' specifications are difficult to come by and require a great deal of resources to Fabricate. Awaiting approval of the latter, expected later today.

Observed washbasin faucet running without obvious input. Suspect valve may be loose, given intermittent nature, but running tests for possible entities interacting with the mechanisms.

"Good day!" She's already greeted her once. Bother.

"Um, a pleasure. Tes'serana Whitgear, at your service." Her name is known among inventors, but... she doesn't expect much recognition of it from the warrior.

"W-wow.

Oh! I mean hello!"

we bring to the world. Even simple, helpful creations can avalanche to something disastrous."

The silence that follows his story of his father's fate is swallowed by the crowd. Her pitch is a little higher, tone a little strained when she answers; she's trying not to think to deeply on that matter, and forcing a cheery reply.

"It's the thing, isn't it? We have to be so careful with what

Hi. Hi? Hi!

"Er. Never mind. Tried for a joke, didn't get there.

...I don't people very often."

the district, it becomes tougher to make progress forward with her cane in tow.

"Um. Right, you were saying you were meant to be a banker? That's awfully specific. Did he ever come around?"

But it [is] where we're headed. This supplier, Drellen, spends most of his time in the workshops there. It makes it easier for the other crafters to find him and put in their orders. We might have a bit of a wait."

She's not the fastest mover, and as the streets grow more crowded deeper into