Diego's instincts are honed by years and years of criticism and ridicule, and he can sniff out someone who's going to continue the trend like a bloodhound. What he's never run into before are elven body language cues, but it's still pretty easy to tell that this guy doesn't believe him about the boiler.

Whatever. He's already half-done fixing it, so prettyboy elf can suck on that.

The commentary continues, though, and Diego just patiently listens while he keeps working on the boiler, glancing over his shoulder every now and again. When elf boy mentions being competent and carrying the whole party, Diego snorts again.

"You say that like I don't already carry my team, elf boy."

Brushing his hands off on each other, he sits on his heels for a moment and rubs his hand across a sweaty forehead, glancing back at the guy again.

"Name's Diego." he says, a little brusquely, "If you want me to owe you, you'll have to give me your name."