[Froaude is already dressed, because he's efficient and has no time for fretting about whether or not anyone will see him in whatever state. He doesn't like the uniform - why is it so bright - but it's what's there. By the time Adrasteius starts... ranting, Froaude has already made up his mind to ignore everyone else in the room for at least one whole hour.

Not that he didn't have a look around. He did. It's helpful to know exactly who he may or may not have to deal with in the near future. Still, he's set to mind his own business and is in fact doing just that, bent to peer into the chest at the foot of what is apparently his bed now, looking for something. He rolls his eyes into the chest at all of the attitude behind him, drawing in a slow breath and reminding himself to show some restraint. God, show some restraint.

So when he turns, straightening up (and up, and up), he is completely calm, if not even affable. Socializing. Wonderful.]

Light? [who says that] You ask quite the volume of questions for a man who apparently would like none of them answered. If I may; it's quite simple.

[He gestures at the rest of the room with one hand.]

We have been kidnapped and conscripted. I'm afraid that is all I've managed, so far.