Ohhhhh god, oh god, oh god. The Balladeer flinches back into his seat as the tension in the room suddenly skyrockets. Having weapons pointed at him isn't new. But he always talks his way out of these things. If he can't do that, he hasn't got anything else. How did he end up being the person in charge here?

"Um - " Before he can finished his slightly panicked sentence, the scene shifts again. Unbalanced, he stumbles and reaches out to catch himself on something that turns out to be very much alive.

It's a horse. A horse in plated armor.

The Balladeer chuckles a little breathlessly. "I guess I'm not cut out to be a spaceship captain. Good to know!" They were never in any true danger, but he's not eager to try exploding. He pats the horse's neck. The armor feels uncomfortably hot and heavy, and the sword is an unwelcome weight at his side, but at least they're outside. "Oh man, Greta'd get a kick out of this. You want to try riding?"