The gnome once again extracted his head from the robot's torso. The day was getting on, he needed some new parts and spare ale, ale most importantly. Since the recent tensions about magic, business hadn't been as good as it was before and it was really getting down on him. Maybe a trip to the tavern would do him some good. And a wider range of clients would be there, too. He had also heard that the inn offered some new, private study rooms where he could concentrate on his blueprints. The gnome donned a nice black trench coat, a silver knapsack and a scroll case which looked like it had carried significant amounts of rolled-up parchment. Of course, before going anywhere, Thom hung a simple sign on his door on which were painted the words [i]GONE FISHING[/i].

When the gnome stepped into the tavern, it was loud, noisy, boisterous - the usual. He said a kind [i]hello[/i] to the landlady whose daughter was out serving drinks to the guests. Her daughter was a beauty among the regular tavern-goers, he'd heard - for better and for worse. Her attractive body often made her the subject of many drunks with... urges. Suddenly, a brown-bearded dwarf swathed in a leather coat residing to the left of the tavern suddenly stood up, knocking over a few flagons of ale. "Thomas, my little man! Have a drink with me!"
Thomas knew that voice all too well - it was Bjorn Frosthammer, a famous smith in Porthsmouth and one of Thom's good friends.
"Good to see ya, Bjorn." Thom enthusiastically embraced the dwarf's bulky frame - just enough for his fingers to touch. He sat down, relieving himself of his silver knapsack and worn scroll case. 
"Now, Bjorn. Let's get down to business. You wouldn't have a spare 3'7 brass cog on ye, would ya?"
"3'7, 3'7..." The dwarf rummaged in his fairly large leather satchel and pulled out a brass cog slightly larger than his fist, which he slid across the table to Thomas. In return, Thomas slid back five gold pieces.
"Ah, thank you for that, Bjorn. I'm still working on Maximus. Something happened and my last cog holding his left arm together snapped in half."
"That old robot? Still?" The dwarf counted the pieces. "Oh, yes. I forgot. The Annual Tinker's Convention is in a month's time, no?"
"Indeed." The gnome adjusted his glasses to better magnify his eyes, which had a slight sparkle in each blue pupil. "Maximus is going to be the star of the show. Have a look at the plans." Thomas unlocked the brass hatch of the circular case and rolled it over to Bjorn, who immediately started poring over the blue paper.
"Hey, isn't that old Tinker Tom?"
"Looks like ye've got some visitors, mate." Bjorn looked up from the blueprints and smiled. "Might wanna give 'em a little show."
Thomas stood up and walked over to the patrons who had recognized him, knapsack in tow. "Perhaps you would fancy some toys, sir?" Thomas reached inside his silver knapsack and pulled out a small clockwork chicken. He winded it up, and the chicken started walking around in his palm, complete with lifelike [i]bawks[/i] and [i]cock-a-doodle-dooes[/i]. "Brilliant!" "More, Tom, more!" 
"More, sir? Alright, I've got plenty more tricks up my sleeves." Thomas smiled. Ah, the true joy of tinkering - seeing people enjoy what you've made.