What followed was a whirlwind that left me feeling more like a doll being dressed than a person preparing for the day.
Three attendants appeared as if summoned by magic, carrying gowns I'd never seen before... clearly new acquisitions, because I certainly hadn't brought this many clothes from Solmire. They debated amongst themselves in hushed, rapid voices about which would be most appropriate for "meeting with His Majesty in an informal setting."
I was guided... herded, really... behind a dressing screen where I was stripped of Soren's tunic (which one of the attendants took with carefully averted eyes) and into undergarments that were considerably more substantial than what I'd been wearing last night.
