"It's just luck that I'm considering moving here, not sure if it's good or bad luck yet. I'm interested in the people here, if only they'd talk to me. But I suppose they must have their reasons of being wary of outsiders. Do you know an inn in the town? I've only just arrived today." 

"There's a hotel, yeah." He gives her directions. 

"Lovely, thank you very much. Do you know anything about any other newcomers? I overheard the locals muttering in a way that sounded like there was more than you and me?"

"Oh! Yeah, a few weeks ago these people showed up...I don't know what's up with them but the locals didn't treat them like they treated me, they'd actually talk to them and stuff. One of them's a girl about my age, she comes in for their groceries, she'll talk to me, but when I ask why the locals talk to her and her folks--I dunno if they're actually related or anything but they were definitely traveling together--anyway she just said they had a personal recommendation and wouldn't go into detail." 

"Interesting. I'll keep them in mind. In the meantime, I should actually shop!"

She gets a box of sugar cookies and pays with one of the bills, hoping this produces a hail of change.

Change ensues!

Lovely. 

She snacks lightly on her box of sugar cookies on her way down to the hotel. 

The hotel is apparently manned by a single clerk, who looks at her suspiciously. "Hello?" he asks.

"Hello," she says. "I'd like to stay for the week, please?" 

She waves her stack of bills at him vaguely, and hopes it's enough.

He counts out an amount and hands her the rest and a small handful of coin in change, as well as a key. "Room 428. There's no running water," he warns her. 

"I've dealt with worse," she says. 

She goes and investigates her rooms.

The room has a single unadorned lightbulb, an iron-framed bed, and a small writing-desk with chair. Despite the sparse accoutrements, the room is spacious. 

There is no bolt on the door. 

It's something. Better than camping in the woods any day. She'll have to find a washroom to take care of the necessities later. 

And it's nice to confirm that this world does in fact have electricity. 

She sits on her bed and munches her sugar cookies. 

The newcomers came with a personal recommendation. The newcomers talked to the shopkeeper, who didn't have a personal recommendation. Clearly she needs to find the newcomers. They ought to be staying at the hotel, perhaps she can bump into them? 

She catalogues her change and the denominations of bill she has and tallies how much each is worth and what the sugar cookies and the night's stay were worth. Now she has a working knowledge of currency. Hurray. How many more weeks can she afford to stay on this coin? 

And where is the washroom, anyway? They ought to have one. She goes looking.

Almost two more weeks, if she doesn't buy any more food. 

There's a washroom at the end of the hall. 

She takes her journal out of her pack, sits down at the desk, and writes. 

Landed on an insular electrical age town. Possible Masquerade; magic readings for this plane inconsistent with apparent tech level. Will have to secure a private location for beacon. Storekeeper is nice enough. I want to meet the other newcomers. 

She closes her journal, and seals the page with Secret Page. 

She goes and looks at where the sun is.

It's past its zenith, but only by a few hours. 

She has an afternoon, then. 

What to do... she supposes she could ask with the hotel clerk after the newcomers. If only she knew any names... 

She is so getting into others' business. But that's what she was built for, so...

"Excuse me," she asks the clerk. "I'm looking for a group of people who've come here travelling before me a couple weeks ago. Are they staying at this hotel, or...?"

"I don't answer questions about other patrons," the clerk said flatly. 

"That's fine," says Thorn. "Thank you for your time." 

She goes back to the grocery store. "Hello there! I was just wondering if you could describe the girl who comes in here for groceries sometimes. I want to know her if I should happen across her out in the town; I want to ask her about Innsmouth and so on, she seems the knowledgeable type."

"Oh, well, it's not hard--everyone in town except you and me and the other newcomers has the Innsmouth look--well, them and old Zadok Allen. He'll talk, if you ply him with booze, but the stuff that comes out of his mouth is nonsense. The girl who comes in sometimes is really pale, her hair as well as her skin. The other three I've seen only in passing, but the other woman is blonde, and one of the men is as pale as the girl and the other is really tall. The girl's name is Lucy, she won't tell me the others' names." 

"Where can I find this Zadok Allen? It'd be nice to have some more company, even if he is a drunk." 

"He lives in the poorhouse on the north edge of town, but he spends most of the day wandering around near the fire station." 

"And where's the fire station?"

She's not sure she wants to take advantage of a poor old man's addiction to gather information, but - 

"Actually, wait a second. What does he talk about when he's in his cups?" 

"He has these crazy stories, about fish-people and pirate gold and blood sacrifice," he says, shaking his head. "If he were a little better educated, he might make a fine novelist." 

"I see," says Thorn, not entirely sure she's seen enough. "Well, thank you for your time."

She buys a loaf of bread, some cheese, and some ham. She goes back to her hotel room and makes ham and cheese sandwiches and eats them. She records the "crazy stories" on her secret page as further evidence of a possible Masquerade. 

She cleans her pistol and loads with her enchanted ammunition. She does jumping jacks for cardio. She tries to sketch the local "Innsmouth Look" and fails; she's no artist. Eventually, she goes to bed and sleeps.