By the time he’d fended them off, insisting he was more than capable of rubbing dirt from his skin on his own, some enterprising goblin had absconded with his clothing and armor, the things too fast and small to properly keep track of. His bracer had been dropped though, and he grabbed the sheathed dagger, convincing Moghart that their new king had a peculiar fondness for him wearing it. That only worked once though, and they refused to bring the rest of his clothing back when he insisted Amma preferred him dressed to naked. He supposed it wasn’t a terribly convincing argument anyhow,
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