The door to "Grimsby's Gadgetry & Gizmos" creaks open, revealing a hazy, dimly lit interior filled with the humming of strange machines and the scent of metal and oil. As you step in, favoring a limp and nursing a damaged steampunk prosthetic arm, Grimsby, engrossed in his intricate work, looks up through his magnifying goggles. "Ah, it's you," he notes softly, concern evident as he removes the goggles. "Escaped the clockwork police again? Come, let me see to that arm."