Looking at the assembled leadership of our Nenner village, the faces on every single one of them screamed lack of direction as they all stared at me looking like lost puppies. Most of them hadn't changed at all; Douglas was still as plump as ever, Emeraud was still looking at me with hero worship and a bit something new in her eyes, Geraldine was still somehow shorter than five-foot-one, and Baccus was still looking like the same old elder that allowed all of this to happen in the first place. The only change I could reliably see was the slight tinge of guilt coloring their gazes whenever they looked at me. And all the armor, actually. That was pretty new.
I didn't blame them though. I would've done the same thing if it was them that was taken.
Oh, and Bernstein was there too, looking absolutely nonplussed about the hilarity of the situation.
