As the players returned to their rooms, they noticed something odd. The atmosphere in the castle was different - more heavy. The servants looked at them with blatant distaste whereas before their prejudices were more carefully concealed; and they hurried by, as if to avoid being amongst them any more than they needed to.

"Wow, they're not even trying to hide it anymore," Mili said, leering at them. "I don't get it. We were all getting along fine and dandy, so why all the glares now?"

"This can't be recent either," Harper replied. "You don't get to that level of spite in only a few days—it usually builds up, accumulates. I've seen enough workplace dramas to know what it looks like when rumors spread, but this ain't natural. Didn't Ruggiero only send the letter a few days ago? There's no way that kinda information could spread this quickly."

Marco grumbled and rubbed his chin in thought. "Would've thought all that reputation or whatchacallit would make them friendlier by now. Sure doesn't seem like it. If this is what friendly looks like, I'd hate to see how'd they treat us without them points."

The old mobster was right. Not a single mission has been failed since the players' arrival, and yet despite their gathered reputation, the people here were not all too happy with their presence - how odd.

It was as if someone had been influencing the Frankishmen from the beginning: before the players even left for the fortress.

"Let us not be disheartened by their treatment," Lucius said, cheering his fellows up. "We may discuss more after a well-needed day of rest."

The others agreed and, upon their arrival into the familiar ward of the castle, soon rushed into their rooms for a little alone time. Fortunately, the baths and other services were still available to them, and so the players drowned the prior month's woes in luxury. Lucius himself spent a long period freshening himself up: a spritz of cologne, a comb of the hair, and of course a dab of cleanser and cream for his face. He had no shortage of coins, so it was quite easy obtaining all his desired products.

When he was done, the gentleman's skin shone like a newborn babe! It was important to take care of one's appearance, especially when about to meet another.

When the halls dwindled of people and the castle began to quiet down, Lucius left his room and leapt up toward the ceiling once again. He skulked about the halls with a greater deftness than before thanks to his increased stats, and soon, he arrived at his destination: Karolus's meeting room.

Just as he thought, the boy was already waiting for him. Karolus fiddled with his fingers and looked anxious, but he soon brightened up with a smile as Lucius landed before him.

"You're back!" he said, rushing in to give Lucius a hug.

"But of course I am," Lucius chuckled, patting his head. "A gentleman always keeps his word."

The two sat down and chatted for a moment about their experiences while apart. Lucius regaled onto the lad a tale of heroism, of tension and suspense. The boy's eyes went wide, and he quivered in fear as he was told in excruciating detail of the demons' hideous appearances, of their lust for blood… but never to fear: the paladins of Francia had arrived! Stalwart in their march, arms locked in jolly cooperation alongside the brave otherworlders. Karolus cheered and pumped his fist; and his eyes sparkled whilst Lucius reenacted the battles with a dramatic flourish.

Of course, there were some things he had to tone down a bit. Especially the—how should he say—more gruesome aspects.

"And that is how we succeeded in slaying the dreaded Demon of Eyes," Lucius said, finishing his story with a bow.

Karolus laughed and gave him an enthusiastic round of applause. "That was amazing, Lucius. I wish I could go on an adventure someday."

"What's stopping you, my young friend?"

Karolus frowned and lowered his head. "Oh, um, nothing really. It's just… the castle is all I've ever known. I can't imagine going outside, at least not yet. Maybe someday I will when I'm older and more experienced."

"And when is that, exactly?"

Karolus looked up, and gave him a sad smile. "When they say I am."

After that, Karolus spoke of something quite concerning. Lucius's thoughts were correct: someone had purposely turned the Franks against the players.

"I don't know how it happened," Karolus began. "The servants have always been a little wary, but after you left to confront the demons, rumors started to spread. There were stories of how a few maids were assaulted by the otherworlders; and some even said that you were kidnapping them to use as playthings. No one had any proof, but the rumors kept being spread and spread around until…"

Karolus sighed and laid his head against the table. "It's like everyone's gone mad. They're scared, and terrified. No one has actually suffered because of your people, and yet they cling to this false image solely because of a few baseless words. It really… upsets me to see them treat you like this, Lucius. And it hurts me even more that I can't change a thing, even when I know the truth and just how kind your people are."

Stolen story; please report.

To an innocent child like Karolus, perhaps it would seem like the people had gone mad. In his eyes it didn't make sense why one would spread slander that they had never truly experienced.

He had yet to learn that, sometimes, people lied.

They lied for a variety of reasons: to manipulate, to incite, to protect. Or, most likely in this case, under the orders of another. Lucius only needed witness the rowdy show earlier to see that there were some in the castle unhappy with the players' stay here.

>[Virtual Goddess of the Wired says that people are unfortunate beings. They yearn to be connected, to fit within the intricate web of community and wholeness, and it is because of this that they are ever so susceptible to disinformation. They do not think to question the words of those inside their circle - they ostracize those who side with strangers, regardless whether it be right or wrong. It is tragic, yet an undeniable part of existence]<

After some time, Lucius and Karolus bid each other farewell. The young boy left to finish his nightly duties, while Lucius took the chance to eavesdrop on some of the servants still mulling about. Perhaps he could gain a clue into who exactly was the cause of the players' new infamy - although he already had his suspicions.

It turned out Lucius would gain much, much more than a clue, for there, barreling through the castle halls while being followed by a group of disgruntled elders, was the High Tribunal Ganelon himself.

"You can ignore us no longer, Ganelon!" the priests exclaimed. "What of our agreement? Have you chosen to betray us now?"

Ganelon turned around, crossed his arms, and glared at them with clear, unabated disgust. "Oh, quiet down you doddering fools. Do you really wish to do this out in the open?"

The gathering harrumphed and pointed at him. "You have left us with no choice. Why do you refuse to explain your sudden treachery? Ruggiero was to be cast aside—that was what we were promised."

Ganelon quickly reached over and forcefully covered one of the speakers' mouth. "By the Stars, you dolts are actually that stupid. Fine, let's talk. But must I remind you of the importance of discretion? You never know who might be listening."

The elder batted his hand away and grunted in acknowledgment. "Very well, let us retire to a more private chamber."

Ganelon sighed and followed after them into a dim room isolated from the busier sections of the castle. Lucius was there too, of course. He watched them all from above whilst perched in a dark corner.

"Are you all comfortable?" Ganelon said mockingly, addressing them with a tired wave.

The elders grumbled and demanded for him to explain himself.

"Alright then, let's make this clear: My position has not changed. I am working in your best interest, as well as mine."

"Then why speak against us during the assembly?" one of the elders said.

"Because the situation has changed you brainless moron!" Ganelon pulled on his face and let out a groan. "How was I supposed to know Ogier would go and get himself killed? The man was a monster even during the crusades—I expected him to last for another ten years, at least."

"So?"

Ganelon slumped over and rolled his eyes. "So? So we're screwed, is what. We were supposed to use his fortress as an excuse to pressure Roland's faction: send the paladins against us to that decaying land while we consolidated power. It was perfect, we had a great thing going on there, but now Ogier's gone and Olivier, that meticulous brat, will find out that we've been embezzling supplies."

The man paced around the room and muttered to himself, his complexion growing increasingly more dark. "I wanted a stalemate, not for the damn place to be ruined. And what the hells is with those otherworlders? The Archbishop should've stayed holed up in his conclave… but no, he had to receive a 'revelation from God'. I wouldn't have needed to set Ruggiero up and make him take all the blame if it weren't for those so-called heroes."

"Why are we unable to continue as planned? If you had helped us then, imprisoning him and ridding ourselves of involvement would have been a simple task."

"Because we can't do that anymore," Ganelon snapped back. "Who is to stop the demonic assault now? The loss of a Peer is too great—there's no point to all these schemes if it means the destruction of the empire. No, we need someone to take Ogier's place, and Ruggiero will make a fine substitution. I have hold over his weakness, so it's unlikely that he'll refuse."

Realization finally began to dawn on the elders, and they coughed amongst themselves, pretending to have been privy to Ganelon's intentions all this time. "That is reasonable. But what about the embezzlement? With the fortress gone, the surviving paladins will testify against us in the court."

Ganelon bit his nails and cursed under his breath. "I'm working on it. For now, we'll delay the proceedings as much as we can and get rid of evidence that may lead back to us. Demolish the storehouses and burn any accompanying documents. It's an unfortunate loss, but we need to tread carefully for the moment. Olivier can gather as many witnesses as he wants—without clear proof, there's not a thing he can do."

With that out of the way, there was only one matter left to be discussed.

"What shall we do with the otherworlders?" the elders asked. "We've spread rumors and sullied their character as you've ordered, but now half are dead and the other half look too dispirited to carry on."

Ganelon clicked his tongue. "I was going to reduce their influence and make them fight amongst themselves, but there really is no point anymore. It'd be more convenient to sway the remaining ones to our side now that they pose less threat. Although, it'd be difficult to change their current image… oh, curse it all. Nothing ever goes my way, does it?"

Ganelon pondered for a bit, before raising his head and speaking out in epiphany. "Oh-hoh, now this might work!"

"What do you suggest?"

He smiled. "Let's have our otherworldly friends take a gander throughout the city. We'll parade them around a bit, feed their egos, and improve their public perception. Then, when they've gotten a taste of fame, we'll give them an offer they can't refuse.

"We will turn them into true heroes of Francia—our convenient little pawns."

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