Tor stomped over to one of the Counts he didn't recognize and stopped in front of him, hands on hips. He was an older man, not as big as some, about six-six. He had on a black military style uniform, but no insignia at all. Most of the Counts had taken to wearing them, a kind of protective coloring, to make them less of a target than brightly colored flashy clothing would. The man held his ground but didn't look as confident as Counts normally did, as if he expected Tor to assault him or something. So did everyone else, but not even the Royal Guard tried to intervene.

“You, who are you?” Tor asked in a tone probably better left unused with royalty in general. It was stupid of him, but he just didn't care right now.

“Um, Count Holstead…”

Oh. “The one that thinks humiliating me is a joke? A good time fun fest for all? Well, even ticked off I can tell it probably is funny, if you weren't the one embarrassed in public all day long like that, beaten and abused. So tell you what, let's just leave it all up to Holstead here…” Tor spun to take in everyone else.

The King looked stony, but he often did, it was his go to facial expression in any given emergency. Rolph buried his head in his hands and groaned.

“No… Tor. Let's go and get you cooled down, get some food and water, then sleep and do this in the morning? If you want then we can take turns beating the guards, or even Holstead here. I mean, I know that you felt humiliated and shamed by being left mainly naked all day, but no one else cared. Not the guards, not the people with you and not the passersby. Really, they probably thought you were being given special privileges and not being made to bake in clothes like the others were… We don't care if people are nude here. Hey, want me to strip and run around the city? No one would think it anything more than youthful exuberance and I might get a date out of it.” He tried to look calm, which didn’t work too well. Right, because he saw what Tor was about to do.