Dame Krim stared at the knight commander in utter disbelief, and to be fair, a slight state of shock. There sat Mordred, Knight amongst knights, with more martial commendations than any of the orders ever had received. Happily customizing her outfit, adding features she had never even known were available to her. Sure she had heard of them, but they always seemed to be meant for ‘special’ knights, the kind that would warrant a capital k, or if not for those than at least for ‘combat’knights, those who actually did ‘important’ things.
“So, with that we should have the basics out of the way, we could alter some parts already but I rather make the more personal fittings and alterations in a more, shall we say, ‘hands on’ fashion.”
She nodded, what else was there to do? Heck if she knew! Mordred caught sight of her (nervous) smile, and (mis)took it for excitement.
“After all, it is one thing to look at your gear on a screen, and another entirely to be able to wear it!” He had a grin that seemed to be stuck on his face, a strange sight, considering she had only ever seen two expressions before now, the one for official matters, and the deep sadness of the past weeks, the present happiness was refreshing but also frightening, fortunately a chime interrupted her train of thought well before it started to show on her face.
Immediately followed by a serf simply entering the room with a small cart laden with various food items.
“Ah yes excellent, we shall break our fast!”
For a moment the room remained silent, the serf seemingly taken aback a bit by the sudden liveliness of the knight commander, then he visibly relaxed and smiled, before leaving the room altogether. “Well Krim, don’t just gawk, eat up, it is still warm now, and I assure you that only half of these things remain palatable once cold, the waffles for instance, but fully all of it is far better warm, or even hot.” Almost mechanically she moved closer, waffles? What even were those? Apparently today would be a day to remember for her.
Sir Oleg frowned at the written reports on his desk, or rather on the field table he tended to use as his desk. Fifteen in all, at first he had separated the ‘wall clan’ into smaller groups of five each led by a knight, but the small irritations and peculiarities of these squires had made that an unworkable situation, not only did they blatantly refuse orders, but they also refused to adapt to the ranking system. And as such Sir Oleg was now once again responsible for all fifteen of them, much to Greta’s amusement.
“Alright Greta, so they were to much for the others, but I still won’t assign them to you, they are to stubborn.” Greta chuckled, “You mees-understand, I don’t vant zem. but is funny yes?” Oleg sighed and nodded, “The main thing is that all attempts at structuring failed, is hilarious yes, they are structured already.” He couldn’t suppress a smile.
“Reminds you ov de good old days eh?” Greta sat down on the floor back to the wall, smiling widely and not caring if anyone saw her like that, she always had been troublesome when it come to proper conduct, or actually applying the speech classes.
Sir Oleg knew she had good marks this time around, but whenever he saw her there was the accent, though a little less now, maybe. “Yes, you nailed it, in a way they remind me of us, not just me and you, but all of us, even Pjot, hah. You should see what they did to the bunk room, is like they don’t know what bed is for, they looked so upset when there was one blanket on every bed, but they use it as hammock!” Greta smirked, she used to do the same, beds were fine but if you were used to a hammock……”So I am going to give them hammocks.” She gasped. “You mean ve have those?!” Sir Oleg nodded, and tossed her a small bundle, it looked like cargo netting. “We do, it was right under our noses, I asked a serf to make some out of netting and tarps, they will hold.” The sheer look of joy on Greta’s face made his day.
Raz Blackheart 