Nope, nothing came. It just didn't make sense. Even if the world had gone insane it didn’t.

Smythe wondered out loud if it was to check for spies in their midst’s. Austran ones, Tor guessed. Well, they did have several assassins with them, but they weren't a real threat now, were they? The red and white clad men started to get more and more uneasy while he stood thinking. No one else had moved either. Finally he started taking his amulets off, but readied a new shield just in case. It wouldn't help the others, but if this was really bad, an attack or something, he could do more prepared than not. A man with a box came around to collect things, poking and patting at clothing, to make sure nothing was being hidden. They took all of his things too, his trunks of amulets and gold. It felt sad to watch them leave like that, trailing behind a guard private, little puffs of dust behind his black booted feet.

They didn't go anywhere; they just had to stand under the hot sun. Tor wore only a pair of shorts, since they'd taken his magical clothing. It was humiliating, but he didn't let it gnaw at him, at least he'd had this clothing left in his trunk and grabbed it before they took everything away. They weren't to talk, or sit. Just stand, sweating and baking under an unforgiving orb in the sky. Tor used the time to build field after field into the loose undergarments. They wouldn't last long, he felt, more than knew. The material was too soft to hold a field more than six months or so, at a guess, especially making them while standing and trying to keep his eyes open. Finally he let them close. No one noticed for a long time. That lasted for a while, which he used to build a nice solid new weapon, until one of the guards came and pushed him, knocking him forward.

The others laughed, because he didn't catch himself properly, being too deep.