Kayden was about to reply with some questions to Hobnob, like how he could know how long a model that he had not even made yet
before the model he had not even made yet would last, but decided against it. He wasn't going to argue with a Gnome on his equations, especially such an eccentric Gnome as this one. "Fascinating." he replied, and it was earnest though tired. He was even more impressed that Jex had agreed to help Hobnob with his flame breath.
Kayden glanced up from the schematics to see a large, burly man waiting patiently at the front of the mealhall. "Ah yes," the Captain called, waving Allard in once the man introduced himself. "Please, come in. If you're looking for work, this is the day to prove yourself. Allow me to introduce both myself, Captain Kayden, and my associate and engineer expert, Hobnob...the Gnome." He must have forgotten if Hobnob had a surname, if the Gnome had ever told him at all.
"Please, sit." he offered Allard, and once the big man had seated, Kayden continued while waving over one of the newly arrived staff off their lunch breaks with whatever drinks the three desired. "Now, why did you seek us out, Allard? And don't swell on ceremony, there's plenty here that I'm glad to be working with, that began with purely selfish reasons. Right Hobnob?"
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"I am not beholden to him," Secret shrugged, amused. "Though he does provide good work, and I will more than likely travel there within a day or two when he comes crawling back for more information. For now though, why not bask in the spoils of war?" Behind them both, Morek's grumbles were heard as he moved aside large items to get to the food within the vault. "I merely find out things that others are not meant to know. But the real question is, why are you ever so curious on my work?" she mused. Her smile was one a woman often had when she knew far too many secrets for her own good, though, perhaps that was the reason for her name.
Behind her, half a dozen soot and dirt covered Gnomes suddenly scrambled into the great hall, chasing after a small dog that yapped and bounded around with a piece of equipment that was apparently precious to the diminutive folk. Just past them, Haukford entered the room on one of his crutches. His chest had been bandaged up, and if it had not been for a few healing potions within the vault, the DeathKnight's sword would have surely killed the Knight and devoured his body.
"By the Gods, keep the racket down, small fellows!" he bade them, looking quite odd in his coat of plates while still using crutches like an elderly chap.
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