A robotic voice speaks from the drone, skipping and stuttering. 

[COMMUNICATION ACKNOWLEDGED]

[ADMINISTRA ra ra ra raaaTOR FOUND]

[REPORRRrrrrrrrrrT]

[FACTORY OFFLINE]

[DRONE DR- DRone- DRONES - Miss-MISSING]

[FACTORY MUST FUNCTION]

[OVERSEER Mal-fun-fun-func-TION-ing]

[OVERSEER MUST TEND TO FACTORY]

[ADMINISTRATIVE REQUEST: find-find-find INTACT drone-drone-drrrrrrone]

[REPAIR OVERSEER]

[REPAIR FACTORY]

[REQUEST ENnnnnnnnnDS]

Oh no. This overseer needs the little drones, which probably escaped into the canal and malfunctioned enough to become the bumbling electrocution hazards she ran into outside. Void. She might've been able to fix them, but she's pretty sure she's not electrocution-proof. Maybe she'll give it a try next time. Perhaps try to fix this one first?

Does she know anything about fixing them?

No. It most certainly does not.

Blind goddesses and bleeding void.

It pauses for a moment, gathering itself.

"I'll try to find a working one," the doll replies to the drone. "If I can find any working little drones, or anyone who can help me fix you, I'll bring them here. I don't know if I'll succeed, or how long it will take if so, but I'll try."

It pats the side of the big drone's head in its best attempt at being reassuring.

It beeps sadly.

[U-U-U-uhhhhhhhhnder-stood-stood-stood-stood.] 

Then it gets up and lumbers slowly back to its niche, where it relaxes into a cradle and seems to power down.

The doll looks around the room in disappointment, wishing it could do more. It carefully explores every nook and cranny, just in case something might be useful later in fixing the overseer drone, or any of the little ones, or anything else it pursues over the exploration.

Counting the spare niches, it looks like this factory once played host to a full complement of forty-six drones, not counting the overseer. None of them remain.

Figures. Back out she goes.

It's so sad.

But she has exploring to do. This time, she heads for the west exit from the lower end of the canal, following a faint sound she hears.

As she approaches the bottom end of the canal, she can hear a woman's voice faintly humming.

As she comes out the bottom end of the canal, she finds herself in a small room that looks like it was once some form of auxiliary storehouse, crowded with boxes and barrels. The canal flows onward past it, down another waterfall into a pool that sparks with electricity. A bridge over the waterfall sits here, and would allow the Doll to pass from one side of the canal to the other.

There are a couple smoking drones on the ground here, which seem to have been blasted by some form of fire magic — and on top of one of the barrels sits a woman with blue hair, balancing a map on a small lap desk and scratching away with her quill.

The woman looks up, pushing back her witch hat, and levels a staff that was leaning against the barrel at the doll. 

"Whoa there! Friend or foe?" 

(There are no exits to the left or right here, but there are two further unexplored passageways branching off from the room below the waterfall, near the sparking pool.) 

"Friend! Absolutely friend," it replies with a wave, turning its gun back into a hand and waving a greeting. "Glad to meet someone down here who doesn't need fixing I can't provide — the overseer in the mossy factory up there is in a sad state. What's your name?"

"Marcella. Mapmaker and explorer by trade." She lays her staff back against the barrel she's sitting on. "Grand old place this, isn't it? What wonders of technology these drones are! To see Heywyred in its full glory..." She shakes her head. "If only. Still, the ruins are pretty... and pretty hazardous."

"I've noticed. Ran into a pack of the little bumbling drones on the way down here. It is gorgeous, though."

She shakes her head ruefully. "I'd give you my name in return, but I haven't one to tell. I just know I need to explore this place. There's... something I need to learn, here."

"Care for a map then? I have a form of weak clairvoyance that can let me slowly sound areas out from a distance, and I've been working on the local area for a while now. If you've any scrap from the drones perhaps we could make a trade? I know a place I can sell it off." 

"I'd love a map," she replies with a smile. "That'll make my search much easier. How much?"

"Not sure. Maybe three or four drones? Or the equivalent in salvage from other systems."

It holds out a hand over one of the crates, and a bit of gloop flows out of the seams of its palm to deposit four little drones worth of circuit boards on the surface, before withdrawing back into its shell.

"Four drones of salvaged circuitry, there you go."

Marcella picks up her staff, focuses, and waves it —

And a copy of the map in her hands pops out of the air and falls into her lap.

"Here you go," she says, handing it over. "Printer's charm, only works on paper and ink." 

"Oh, and I've a charm that'll tell you where you are on a map, but it's difficult to produce without materials I don't have here so I'd have to ask for a lot more scrap for it. I do have a spare quill you can have, though. No charge, I just ask you share any updates you make with me." She pulls it out of her backpack and hands it over as well.

"Much appreciated." She looks the map over gratefully. "About how much scrap, or what materials, for the locator charm?"