The last of the rolls received its ganache as Chip sniffed. He had poured his heart and soul into this and now it was done. The only thing that was left was to have the judges go ahead and figure out who won. "Bakers, you have two minutes left!" The otter out front said, pausing to check the contestants, "Please place your bakes on the trays, and finish up." Line by line, each roll was in a formation like a group of super-soldiers ready for a fight. Chip prepared his rolls to march off to war. Well, perhaps the rolls were more like mercenaries, because who wants to go off to war to be eaten anyway. "Bakers, please bring your trays up to the judging table!" Chip grabbed one side of the tray, feeling the weight. He moved it into position and carried it lightly to the front, placing it on the table there. The poor judges, having to sort through so many different roles. Stepping back, Chip and the other bakers stood in a clump a distance away. "Now, judges, please go through and select your favorites." One by one, the Admiral and Spring went from the left to right. At the first station, Spring sampled one. "Too stodgy. This one needed to be put in a bit longer," she said. "Ah, but the glaze is just right!" The Admiral said. Where the druid was a sleek lithe otter, the Admiral was nearly the largest otter in the company. He hadn't wanted for anything recently, Chip mused. The Judges moved down the line, talking to each other and taking notes.