The door to "Ginny'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, Ginny, engrossed in her intricate work, looks up through her magnifying goggles. "Ah, it's you," she notes softly, concern evident as she removes the goggles. "Escaped the clockwork police again? Come, let me see to that arm."