Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-1734134-20190911202955/@comment-25684606-20190921095924

"Thank ya, ma lady, yer too kind" Lem replied, meaning every word he said. Usually, then people got injured in the factory, they were taken away and never seen again. The week after, there was always meat on the lunch menu though, for reasons that escaped him. Perhaps to boost morale.

He held perfectly still as the medic injected what the dreg surmised to be some sort of potent healing fluid into his arm and once bandaged, he moved the injured shoulder around a bit, finding it suitably functional for the task at hand. The squabble between Tarkhan and Dion he ignored, for he knew the Cogboys to be eccentric and somewhat crude in their handling of fellow men. As for Dion, if the man needed an iron collar put around his neck, surely the Emperor had his reasons to see fit to that.

Likewise, the exchange between the beautiful lady, in his mind a local noble, and the Emperor's Chosen, eluded him for the most part, which he confidently chalked up to his relative unimportance and concluding lack of broader knowledge that would have enabled him to understand the nuance of it.

"Empera bless ya, ma lady", he proclaimed as he was presented with the armor, to him an artifact of divine protection, was it not adorned with the holy aquila. Forced to stand up, something he considered inappropriate in the presence of the Governess, he simply strapped the plasteel plates over his overall, and draped the bandolier of powerpacks over that. It did nothing to diminish his wholly ragtag appearance, but he seemed more combat-ready than before, if only marginally.