These past few days, Harold and the Kobold Chieftain, Irving, had become very close, frequently clinking glasses and putting their arms around each other's shoulders.
Knowing that Harold was invited by Milady to dine together this evening, Irving was both green with envy and, without a second word, dragged Harold into the public bath, muttering that Harold had to be scrubbed clean and fragrant.
In Irving's words, how could one sit at the same table and dine with the noble Milady in such a disheveled, sour-smelling state? That would be a sign of disrespect.
Irving even enthusiastically volunteered to personally scrub Harold's back. This was a skill Irving had honed on his own tribesmen; after all, Kobolds had a layer of thick, dense fur compared to humans. Without applying force, it was fundamentally impossible to scrub that fur clean and eliminate fleas.
