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That was good. Hector hoped they were making better progress than he was. With the sudden commotion about trying to not melt to death, he hadn’t even been able to think about why they’d been attacked. Perhaps it had just been a misunderstanding. Looking back, he supposed he had kinda helped escalate the situation.
He hoped they wouldn’t be upset with him. Something to worry about later, he supposed.
He turned back to Zeff and Asad.
They were still bickering. Only now, both of their reapers had joined in.
They didn’t hear him.
He turned to Garovel.
‘Go on. You’ve got this.’
‘C’mon, Hector, you can do it. Command their attention as the Lord Darksteel of Warrenhold.’
Well, shit. When Garovel put it like that, Hector didn’t even want to argue.
He took a moment to deliberate, then started decorating the two men in iron paraphernalia. Iron spectacles for Asad, a dangling pocket watch for Zeff, a waistcoat for Asad, and as soon as Zeff paused in apparent surprise, Hector popped an iron umbrella into his hand.
They both looked at him.
“Are you guys ready yet?” He added a top hat to Asad and a monocle to Zeff, making sure to hook it around the ear so it didn’t fall off.
“My apologies,” said Zeff.
“Mine as well,” said Asad.
Hector paused, then gave Asad a walking cane, and Zeff, a curly mustache with a strap around to the back of his head.
“What are you doing?” said Asad.
And at the question he’d been hoping for, Hector couldn’t help smiling just a little. “I was just trying to help you start acting like lords again.”
There came a brief silence, and Hector worried he might’ve pissed them off. Then Garovel exploded with laughter.