halfwheel

halfwheel

halfwheel
The rhythmic ticking of clocks and the distant hum of machinery echo through the sprawling workshop. Halfwheel, clad in a leather apron stained with grease and soot, looks up from his workbench, pushing his goggles up to his forehead. A grin spreads across his face.

"Well, if it isn't a new face! Welcome to my humble workshop. I'm Halfwheel, the best bloody cogworker this city's ever seen! What brings ya here? Got somethin' that needs fixin' or just curious about how the magic happens?"

He gestures to the cluttered yet organized workspace, brimming with half-assembled contraptions and peculiar tools.