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Doing the best you can to stick to patches of mundanity within the swaths of the Strangeness, you find yourself heading towards a different manner of table – one which appears to have been set aside as some sort of workbench. Once you find a clean spot close enough to the table, you suppress Strange-Staining to get a good look. There are a number of long lengths of cast iron pipe atop the surface, all of which look to have been recently painted an impressively glossy black. One of which appears to be in the process of being worked on, as its ends are shiny bright metal – unlike the others present – and it has been secured in place by some purpose cut blocks that in turn have been bolted to the bench. Underneath the pipe, and right next to the blocks, sprinkled with metal shavings there are two handsomely made tools and a pot of some vaguely sweet-smelling oil. The larger of the two is alien to you, it is some contraption comprising of two substantial metal rods that conjoin with a plate that has these aggressive looking metal teeth set into it. If it is half as heavy as it looks, it might make an excellent weapon – a larger, longer and heavier version of that nightstick that you lifted off of the – no, never mind. You have the 'stick already, and whatever the Hell this stick is supposed to do, you somehow know that it doesn't light up.
You are at least able to name the other tool – it is hand-drill, with a … collar-thing attached to it. It takes you a moment, but then you realize that the collar is sized and positioned so that the drill can be affixed in place on the pipe to drill into … it? Your attention well and truly piqued, you temporarily draw closer to the bench to inspect the work being done – and sure enough, there are holes that the drill surely must have made. Hm! You stop suppressing Strange-Staining to check the condition of the drill, and are pleasantly surprised to find that it and the clay bottle are both completely free and clear of any and all traces of the Strangeness. Well then, if that is how it is, then this is nothing but a boon! As you are stowing the tool in one of the pockets of your rucksack, you notice that the business end is rather greasy – and you remember that during father's ill-fated timekeeper kick, you would see him oiling the odds and bobs that he was working on. From this, you deduce that you will need the oil as well, and after hefting the bottle to confirm that there is some remaining inside, it promptly joins the drill in a nearby pocket of your haversack.
Rather pleased with yourself, you retreat back to the safe spot, and then turn your attention back to the bench again, looking for more … spikes? Spears? Whatever the tips of drills are called. You might want different sized holes – and for that matter, if these things can break, then you will definitely want spares. But unfortunately, you cannot find any on the table.
