“This is not what it looks like!” Her voice rang out as she practically threw herself across the room scrambling for any form of cloth covering she might use to preserve some small speck of modesty.
“Ahre you,,Quite sure? ” The voice was strained, as if the speaker was attempting to suppress,,well something.
“W,,? What?” Only now did Dame Krim properly gaze upon the mechanical form standing before her, hands open and outward from his sides, posture jovial, form mostly mechanical, and rather tall. “You’re the Dragon! Oh my cog!” Instantly Sir Balin witnessed the demeanor shift from mortified to some form of excited admiration, and for once he did not need to gaze upon an armour to realize that the girl belonged to the order of the road. “STOP, return to your previous , searching.” He did however need her at least partially dressed. “Ahnd I prefer my own name,,,,” he said it as an afterthought more to himself than to the girl, and for a moment he thought she hadn’t even heard, and that would have been fine. “Which is?” She stared up at him covering herself once again with the rather unfortunate privacy curtain. Just glancing at her face he could see where the floor had left an impression, looking around the room it was evident where she had fell, then using the tools that were at his disposal he assessed that Mordred was in fact asleep, and seeing the rows of pieces and parts (and knowing of Mordred’s hobbies) he understood the situation, or at least had a decent enough idea of what might have occurred. “I am Sir Balin, as far as I know at present the only member of the order of the Dragon, I am not the Dragon, thaht would be silly.” Once again his eye rested on her face, bruising was starting to form in rather unfortunate places, and her right eye was starting to close due to the swelling, still amazement could be read in her expression. “Twice in one week, oh my cog I am so lucky!” The statement made no sense, aside from obviously being false, judging by her face. “Sit, and properly cover your,, meat, The Knight Commander is ,,,sleeping, so no need to throttle him with kindness. ” He had meant it as a joke but instead it caused the girl to start crying. It occurred to him that she seemed almost too young to be a Knight. “There,,,,There,,,Why don’t we sit down,,ahnd hyou can tell uncle Balin all ahbout it.” He was going to have a tough day, he just knew it.
“Fifty more, and you’ll be done leetle man.” There was no malice in the Knight’s voice, just a heavy accent, but somehow that made the encouraging words seem like a slap to his face. Turg pushed with al the determination of a frustrated teenager, determined to prove someone wrong. “Helga, leave my squires alone,,, it is not their fault you do not get to pick one.” Sir Oleg spoke as he strode into the room. “Still it is awkward to have so many, how are they doing? ” The knight named Helga frowned before answering. “Sir, the Leetle man is doink good, he ees doink the full three hundred now, look, the others zey are tryink to catch up, but him, he wants to be ze best” Sir Oleg nodded as he sat himself down in front of the small group, noting only one of them was simply sitting in her spot, Findling, Turgs second he recalled from the initial,strained, conversations. “Why is she not training along?” Helga could only shrug non-committally. “Zat one doesn’t vant to.” Sir Oleg gave a deep throaty chuckle. “Helga, return to taking speech classes. They didn’t take.” The girl snorted, but disguised her amusement well, well enough that most of the Knights had not even taken notice of it, by pretending to sneeze. There was more to these children and Oleg liked it, they reminded him of the old days, of his friends on earth, of Georg and Joseph, that oddball. He nodded Helga of, making it clear that his comment was not a mere suggestion, he knew Helga hated those classes but she was the only one who still had such a deep accent, and although he liked hearing it he did not enjoy deciphering it across a crackling comm line, nor did any of the other Knightly orders they worked with. “Findling, speak your mind with me, why as Turgs second, do you not partake in his exercises and trials?” He almost expected a derisive answer like his childhood friend would have given him, why did these children both centuries and worlds apart remind him so much of his childhood friends?
“Because I am his second, I watch his back, also she told us to, not you.” At this she shrugged, and looked away.