"I think that's all again for now? Thank you - it's releiving to have a project."

"The project existed through no doing of mine." He leans out into the hall to tell the nearest internal patrol guy to direct her to the kitchen and the smithy and to alert the night cooks that she's to have access to build a new stove.

Well, first she'll take a look around to see the space and say hi to the people who'll probably be using it, no reason to be rude and you usually want to talk to the people who will use your tools, it's just common sense- Figure out where exactly it should go in a room that presumably already has space laid out and accounted for. No rush to decide, she won't be able to start properly until at least the next night anyway.

The kitchen is in fact pretty cramped but they have a big staging area for butchering entire cows in and she could put an oven in a corner of that space if it's not too giant and still leave them room to butcher an entire cow.

Well, it's going to end up fairly big actually, it kind of has to, to be efficient? The main box will be about five by three by five feet. Maybe the long straight flume part can go vertical instead of horizontal (which would have made a nice warm bench), up and run along the ceiling, here?

They can rip out some of the counter here and put it where the current stove is, if it's got to be that large. It's also not impossible to cut up a solid frozen cow in the freezer, they acknowledge, resentfully.

"So, I don't want to disrupt things unnecessarily - it'll reduce the amount of wood used for heating and that's why the boss wants it, but I can make it taller more than wider, I can try to not mess with what you've already got as much as possible, I can try to make your job easier in the process, that's why I'm asking instead of just going right ahead. Pretty sure I can fit it... Here, without chopping off any counter. But then the hot surface for cooking would be here, right at my shoulder height, which is kinda high to try and actually cook on-"

Cooks glower at her. One eventually ventures, "Yeah, that's too tall."

Nod, nod. "If I can knock a vent hole in a wall about - here - it can go right where the current stove is... Or maybe I could double the flow back on itself, shrink it that way- What makes a stove nice to cook on?"

"Haven't you ever cooked nothing?

"That wall goes to the punishment room."

"No, I think it's the stables, that side."

"Not in a long time, actually, where I'm from there's a giant canteen. Everyone gets rations, three times a day. That way they control the portions and do it 'efficiently'. Okay, how about- A little chimney going up from here and then to the left? And the hole to put wood in and sweep out ash would go right here. No holes in any walls."

Nobody actively glares at her about this.

"Okay, I'll assume that's how it'll go. And try to set things up so it'll only take uh... Maybe an hour to put all together when it's ready-ready."

"Understood," says the head cook.

"...Good bye for now then."

This place must be getting to them, that would explain it. It's not exactly a cushy assignment, is it? And not everyone's pleasant at the best of times in Frostbound either. It sits unquietly but it's not actually... Her problem? If the cooks are grumpy?

Something about it still isn't sitting right.

This whole place is wrong, wrong, unfamiliar and primitive.

...Whatever.

Now. What's this treaty about? She remembers the mention of 'cheliax' and her being an 'independent adventurer'...

The treaty has a lot of stuff that doesn't apply to her, and in her own case as long as she doesn't violate the treaty first she is protected from signatories doing assorted bad things to her and entitled to help in exchange for her own help at least up to a point, and has to not interfere with operations or attack fellow treaty-applicable people.

Okay.

She still doesn't want to think about home or what to do next so she very industriously summarizes down the relevant parts in pencil in her notebook. And then checks the time- Tries to practice the language? That's the next time bounded task. She'll mutter things in Germanian and then in Taldane over and over... And actually feels out the alphabet and transcribes it and starts making a phrasebook with small writing, sharpening her pencil with the pocket multitool that did manage to make the trip with her. Until 1000 hours, when the smithy is designated as free, then she'll head over there.

It's a smithy. Looks like it does mostly arrowheads and horseshoes and some melee weapon maintenance and production.

She can work with this... A fun night of locating her authorized scrap metal and pounding it into better shape for the fancy stove!! And also doing some of the incidental repairs. And cleaning up properly, of course, she's not a barbarian. With absolutely minimal use of forge heat, since fuel is so critical. Only once near the end of the night.

(She also ends up reconfiguring the saw to hand-crank power during this. And somehow the dretch claw ends up in there as a sort of butt-spike. There's clearly something Sparky about this. Any ominous chuckling and low-voiced Sparky ranting will proooobably be sufficiently contained by the walls. It's pretty easy to not let it get out of hand working without anything really exciting or especially urgently, too.)

And then, a food please, (it's a lot less good on a repeat, maybe it was just novel the first time compared to cookhouse potato mash), and then sleep.

-Oh, right, she should return the copy of the treaty. She'll do that.

The next day she checks the time against any of the workshops she wanted to visit, especially demonology, and wants to know if she can go outside for appropriate crafting rocks without violating some sort of security rule?

The food is actually porridge if she asks for one first thing in the morning, which means it is watery soft rice with barely identifiable dried fruit in it. She can get into a demonology session (Topic: Incubi & Succubi) right before day-shift lunch. She can go out for rocks or fresh frigid air or whatever as long as she notifies the security wizard on duty, does not bring a cleric with her, and holds still for a Detect Fiendish on the way back.

Mind control is scary!! She would like to acquire LEAD for a HELMET!! (If appropriately plated in steel it shouldn't be toxic!) ...For now, rocks will do. Security protocols are 200% understandable.

She will chip and chisel literal random rocks from outside into the right shape (lots of precise curves) somewhere out of the way, making far more progress at this activity than her metal knife really ought to allow. She stays up until just after lunchtime despite growing fatigue, to force herself onto the new schedule. The Share Language runs out during her sleep, but with consultation of her phrasebook she can at least request stew and continue preparing the new stove some more.

Blithely ignoring any pretense or attempts at social interaction and just Doing Work is surprisingly comfortable. Every moment is a step closer to accomplishing a thing. Everyone has a job and mostly ignores each other. It's weirdly nostalgic.

(The things she misses are electric lights and the bathhouse that runs off residual heat from the smelting fumes back home. Those were both legitimately very nice. Also, her mom, and the few assistants on the rotation who were genuinely more friends than minders.)

Someone finds her that evening and tells her that if she wants the Share Language re-upped she needs to report to the commander's office.

Oh, sure, she'll report to the commander's office. Slightly nervously.

Hand.

And apologize, "I did not consider whether you were going to apply the effect again, that was a mistake. I understand there is some opportunity cost."