“Hey!”

Kicking the large ornate doors of the throne room open, Will strutted inside with his hips swinging and a confident smirk on his face. Stopping right in the center of the throne room, he tossed his hair back, then held out his hand in your direction before crooking his index finger in a ‘come hither’ motion.

“Prepare to meet your doom!” Will declared, voice bouncing off the walls of the quiet chamber

Behind him, the throne room’s doors—unable to handle the force of his kick, gave one last suffering creak before falling off its hinges and landing onto the floor with a thud. Unperturbed by the noise, Will held his pose for a second longer before dropping his arm to fish out a mirror from his magic pouch. He held it up, winking at himself in the mirror and clicking his tongue. Then, he pulled out a comb out of the same magic pouch and began to touch up his hair.

As he did so, you noticed a commotion drawing closer from the hallway leading to the throne room.

Just as Will finished touching up his hair (it looked exactly the same as it did before), the rest of his party members stumbled through the space where the door had been, all out of breath and sweating heavily. While they took a moment to catch their breath and rearrange their gear, Will slipped back into his signature hero pose—hand falling onto the hilt of his sword and legs positioned into a forward lunge. However, before he could start the battle, the now slightly more composed party members crowded around him.

“Will! We said to wait for us! How many times do we have to tell you to not run towards the Demon Lord’s room on your own?!”

“Watch the hair,” Will complained, straightening up to push his party members back. Once they formed a proper ring around him instead of crowding into his space, he rolled his eyes and pointed to you.

“Look, it was light work getting here. The Demon Lord’s going to be easy-peasy.”

“Besides,” Will smirked, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword once more. “I’m here.”

Having expected a better excuse or maybe even an attempt to listen to reason (honestly, after travelling with him for so long, they should know better by now), the party stared at Will, flabbergasted. Then, without another word, they all shuffled backwards and formed a huddle amongst themselves. Harsh whispers and groans of disappointment could be heard from the huddle as they discussed the issue, with the entire party pausing every now and then to glance at Will before resuming their conversation. Will remained unperturbed by the act, returning to fixing his hair and trying out different victory poses for when he finishes slaying the Demon Lord. Moments later, the other party members dissolved the huddle, stepping forward with their weapons at the ready.

“You know what? If we die, it’ll all be your fault, okay?”

Will rolled his eyes again as his party got into their formation behind him, waving off their pointed comment.

“Fine, whatever. That’s not going to happen anyways”

Turning around, he pointed his sword at you, smirk back on his face.

“Evil and dastardly Demon Lord, are you ready to have your head taken by a hero as wonderful and magnanimous as I?”