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~~((The National Ice Cream Day Special -- page 13 of 15))~~
The group arrived at a line of ornate doors, and Stoutamire was saying one thing or another about how wonderful these rooms were. The attendants started trying to guide everyone into different ones. The Lorentians in their party were the first to depart, followed by Roman and Voreese.

The Rainlords, however, did not budge.

Salvador, Carlos, Fidel, and Matteo all remained exactly where they were, looking toward Hector with their iron masks on.

A suddenly awkward tension was in the air as Stoutamire and the guides all seemed uncertain as to what was happening.

Hector had a fair idea, though, and Mevox confirmed it for him.

'We ain't leavin' your side, bucko,' the reaper said. 'Not until there are cameras to worry about or until we're sure it's safe here.'

Hmm. Should he tell them to just relax? He doubted there was any real danger here--and even if there was, he'd be more worried about everyone other than himself. Somehow, though, he didn't think that saying as much would convince these guys to leave him alone.

As he was mulling his options over, a new voice arrived from behind him.

"Excuse me, but would you happen to be Lord Goffe of Warrenhold?" It was a man's voice, somewhat hard and raspy.

Hector turned to see another small group of people.

And an unfamiliar reaper among them.

That sight alone made Hector's posture shift slightly. He might've been tired, but it was time to be fully attentive again.

The same voice spoke up again, and Hector saw that it belonged to the man standing closest to him. "You must be him, no? Or is that armor you're wearing meant to throw us off?"

Indeed, Hector was still wearing his armor. He'd been receiving a few odd looks because of it, but that wasn't terribly abnormal, and he was mainly just concerned about hiding the light wounds that he'd received from Chort's spawn. There wasn't that much blood, but it would probably still be alarming to anyone who saw him if he dematerialized his armor.