"You're either very brave or very foolish to come back here without crawling on your hands and feet and begging me not to expel you on the spot," Mistress Lorelai spoke in an icy tone that was far more intimidating than the many threats she'd messaged me.
I glanced warily in Red Beard's direction, but the middle-aged swashbuckler was whistling a happy tune into the air as if my getting chewed out for being proactive was none of his business.
"Well?" Our dökkálfar instructor's glare made a chill climb up my spine, and that was a rare experience for me. "What do you two have to say for yourselves?"
"Um, well, as you can see"—I pointed a thumb at Red Beard—"we've brought—"
A silver spear embedded itself in the ground right between my legs.
"A little help here…" I nearly squeaked, but just barely managed to keep my voice low. "…she's not listening to me."
Good tidings, fellow novices!
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