Swamped

"The Songbird's Lament. Goes with an old grebling folktale about a songbird getting tricked out of a meal by a crow."

"Can't say that sounds familiar," you mutter.

"Well, the melody's not original. It's used for a bunch of human songs, I hear. I think the oldest version was an Aedran war anthem, but after the empire fell the melody got recycled. Probably as a form of mockery. Dunno, I'm not much of a historian, or a musician. Just a simple priest."

You glance at the large machine.

"What's a simple priest need with all that, then?"

"It's supposed to be charting things like air pressure, temperature readings, and just in general information that mostly has to do with the weather. Then I write down the values for our records and clear the charts when they fill up. It hasn't been working right lately. Yvonne was supposed to ask Dominique for the one wrench that works, but I haven't heard anything back about that. Not that I'm surprised."

"It's been kind of a busy day for Yvonne. Busier than she expected," you say.

"Whatever the reason, I don't appreciate being left hanging. Even if I don't have much choice in the matter."

"I could go and remind her," you say. "By the by, have you seen any of the other humans tonight? I'm just doing some checks."

"Only the prisoner. Surprisingly enough, they requested spiritual guidance, and, well, that's supposedly what I'm here for."

Now that has you curious. But it might be rude to press for more information on what happened there.