After following the good Mister Ibn-al-Arabi farther into the city, the group arrived at a large villa decorated with white murals and colorful patterned carpets. It looked like an inn for wealthy travelers, but oddly enough Lucius didn't see any people around them—no passersby or even staff members to welcome them. The Saracen guide merely stood in front of the entrance and bid everyone to head inside.

"This shall be your accommodation for the duration of your stay in our fair Arabia," the man said with a sleazy smile. "We have prepared only the best for our Frankish friends."

Roland nodded and took a step forward. The moment he passed through the doors, however, Mister Arabi suddenly extended his hand and grabbed the Peer's shoulder.

"Oh dear, where are my manners? It must be quite hot under all those layers of metal. I understand such attire is the Franks' regalia, but the desert heat is not one to be underestimated: especially when the sun blazes as it does today. Allow me to prepare more fitting garments for you. Meanwhile, I shall store the rest in the villa's storage."

It was certainly a considerate gesture at first glance, but the tone of his voice implied a more nefarious intention.

"I am thankful for the thought, but there shall be no need," Roland said. "The armors of the Peers are naturally engraved with cooling inscriptions for hotter climates. My companions, however, are more than welcome to accept your offer."

Mister Ibn-al-Arabi narrowed his eyes. "I… see. Well then, if that is your wish." The man turned toward the players and donned his friendly guise once more. "How about you, my friends? While our tunics may not be as flamboyant as your curious outfits, I am sure that our tailors can weave you a fitting piece to your liking."

Most of them firmly declined, although it wasn't out of rudeness. Their clothes simply had a wide array of benefits that either increased their stats or comfortability - similar to how Lucius's tophat and monocle functioned - and they were not willing to forfeit such things while in uncertain territory.

One particular gentleman on the other hand was more than happy to try the local styles.

"Your proposition is most enticing, my good man," Lucius said, walking up to the guide and bidding him an elegant bow. "I would be delighted to accept your generosity. It is not everyday that I am given the opportunity to be in the graces of such a fascinating culture. And those colorful robes! Oh, just darling. I can see the passion and craftsmanship in each silken veil."

Mister Ibn-al-Arabi stepped back in surprise, as if he hadn't expected anyone to actually take the bait, but nonetheless he quickly recovered and soon strode to Lucius's side. "Of course, of course! Hoho, you have a marvelous eye if I do say so myself. To have a foreigner take such interest in our humble fashion is a great honor. Leave your clothes by the entrance, and come morning, I will have a servant bring a beautiful selection of our finest fabrics."

"That sounds positively thrilling. I shan't need to store my suit, however."

With a snap of his finger, Lucius switched to a more casual outfit thanks to his tophat's skill. Mister Arabi's eyes practically bulged out of their sockets at the sight.

"Oh! Oh, I have… never witnessed such sorcery before."

Lucius smiled. "My kind are capable of many things thought unusual, Mister Arabi."

"So I see." The man rubbed his long beard thoughtfully, and perhaps a bit cautious. "I have heard stories of the ones known as otherworlders, but to personally meet your ilk in person is quite the enlightening experience."

There was a sharp look in his expression now unlike before. Whatever that meant, Lucius had not the chance to find out before Mister Arabi clapped his hands together and let out a jolly laugh.

"Well now, I feel the night's approach soon upon us. Do not let me keep you waiting; I am sure your group would like nothing more than some rest after a long journey. Please, go in and make yourselves comfortable. The entire villa has been reserved for your use. Pick whichever room suits your fancy and, should you require assistance or a taste of our local cuisine, the main hall serves both as a restaurant and information center."

With that, Mister Arabi bid them farewell in the traditional Frankish way before disappearing into the city streets.

The group entered the building and were immediately welcomed by a large plethora of Saracen servants. Their hospitality could rival even the Franks; and soon, everyone was given a tour of the varying facilities and sections available to them. A quick jaunt up a flight of stairs revealed a large space containing the rooms they were to stay in, while heading to the lower levels showed recreational areas to pass the time: a pool, bar, and even a smoking room where premium cigars (the Saracen version of it at least) could be indulged upon request. Interestingly enough, there didn't seem to be any sign of use or wear, as if everything was brand new.

There was an odd shoddiness to the layout. Lucius noticed how lazily thrown about the decor was, like props meant to be used only once, and the furnishings had just enough substance to be seen as authentic. Hidden underneath, the gentleman spied, was a much shabbier material.

What did this mean? Who knew. The players were too tired to peruse such things at the moment, so they immediately headed off to bed. Lucius's room was identical to the others. It had a king-sized bed, lounges, beautiful Saracen-made forgeries of paintings, as well as a balcony where one could take in the sights of the Rivers' Cairo in privacy.

After freshening himself up a bit, a knock came at his door. The gentleman expected to find one of his companions or perhaps a Peer waiting for him, but to his surprise it was Miss Enapay on the other side.

"Oh? Welcome, my dear! What can I do for you?"

The good miss nervously shuffled in place and eyed their surroundings, before quickly rushing in and closing the door.

"I need to speak with you," she said.

Lucius wandered over to a comfy chair and sat himself down. "My council is yours."

Miss Enapay sighed and rubbed her face. "I watched you during the expedition, and I was… impressed by how you guided everyone."

"Why, thank you!"

"That is why I believe you have also noticed our guide's strange behavior."

Lucius raised his brow, chuckled, and then offered her a steaming hot cup of tea. With the twin suns' descent came a frigid evening wind blowing through the city, so it was nice to warm up the body with a drink. "I am not usually one to judge others upon first appearance, but you would be correct. Franky, I suspect our visit here is not so welcomed as they would have us believe."

The warrioress nodded. "We need a plan if they turn on us. I came here to kill demons, not people. If worst comes to worst, though, we'll have to fight our way out of the city. I don't want that. Can't you convince the Peers to leave? You're friendly with them, and it's not as if we have to be here to search for the Great Evil."

"I understand your concerns, Miss Enapay, but unfortunately I doubt even my words will reach them. Sir Roland is in a precarious position as the Franks' representative. From the beginning, this was to be a joint effort between two nations, and fleeing now could pose a great diplomatic risk."

"How does that concern us? It's the Franks the Saracens hold a grudge against, not us."

"Be that as it may, it would do us no good to be ruining our relationship with the empire. Do you truly believe us capable of slaying the Demon King alone?"

Miss Enapay remained silent.

"Let not our fear of the future direct what we must do now. Besides, we have yet to receive a quest, haven't we? That implies that the Saracens have not decided to silence us at this moment. We shall proceed as we always have; and should our foreign allies truly betray us, then we will gather with the Peers and decide our next course of action."

"... Alright, I'll trust you."

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Miss Enapay stood up, thanked Lucius for the tea, and returned back to her own room. Her concerns weren't unfounded. Perhaps she was right and it would be better to rough it out on their own than to partake in the Saracens' dubious aid.

But where would the fun in that be?

The people here were very interesting, especially in how they reacted to Sir Roland's presence. What could the man have possibly done to draw such ire from the entire city? It was only when Ganelon forced him to come here that the Peer's once-so stoic facade began to crumble. Something happened here that he desperately wished to forget. In order to find out the truth, Lucius needed the group to play along with this nation's schemes.

Thus, he tucked himself into bed and then drifted off to the land of dreams.

It was when Lucius's internal clock struck four-o-clock that a giant explosion propelled him out of his bed and sent him flying outside with a boom.

A hazy smoke wafted out of the obliterated remains of what once was the villa, and panicked cries rang out from the players inside. Everybody ran around in a rush to help each other.

Lucius was still asleep, however, so he had to astral project his soul outside of his body and then steer it like one would a marionette. He had learned this curious technique from a sect of Tibetan Monks during his younger days. It was unfortunate that he couldn't stray too far away from his vessel, but it was very useful in times like these when a gentleman needed his beauty sleep.

"Lucius? Lucius!? You good over there!?"

Mili stumbled out of the building and coughed. Her frizzy hair had been singed into an unflattering black, and dirt and debris clung to her face. Other than that she appeared relatively unharmed.

Lucius couldn't reply to her since his vocal cords were still at rest, so he merely gave her a thumbs up in response.

"Phew, nice. But damn that was crazy. Just what kinda insane lunatic did this crap?"

Soon, the other players began to hobble outside. Harper and Marco managed to escape with the least injuries, so they rushed into the burning rubble before pulling Mister Crowley, Miss Enapay, and Miss Rhodes to safety.

"Damnit… I told you so," the warrioress wheezed. "Even I didn't expect them to act so soon, though."

Miss Rhodes collapsed onto her knees and laid out a long blanket for them to rest on. "You know, I have a feeling this here city ain't all that safe after all."

"Sure is one hell of a welcome," Marco grunted. "Can't believe they didn't even wait a day before doin' this nonsense."

Harper groaned and stretched her back, before summoning a large version of her fire hydrant and blasting the flames to steam. Her experiences as a firefighter were being put to good use today.

"We're lucky we were far away from the blast," Mister Crowley said, scowling. "Judging by the force, I reckon the Peers were the closest to it."

Speaking of the Peers, Sir Roland emerged from the smoke with Angelica and Astolfo safely in tow. Their armors were a bit scorched, but it would take much more than an explosion to take out the empire's brightest.

"Sir Lucius, everyone… I see you are safe." Roland uttered a deep, tired sigh, before turning around to inspect the wreckage. "I found it odd that the servants all disappeared during the night, but to think they would commit such a blatant attack. It baffles me."

"Ganelon certainly seems determined to rid us here for good," Angelica said, joining him. "And yet there is naught we can do… vexing, indeed."

Astolfo shook his head, confused. "What do you mean? The Saracens just tried to kill us! I think we have every right to confront them about this."

"Oh, Astolfo. They will merely deny their involvement. Even if we were to push further, what then? Threats? Violence? We cannot give them cause to start another war."

"Why would they even attack us, anyway?"

Angelica stiffened and then glanced at Roland. "Not us, but who."

The man didn't react to her words. He merely stayed silent and looked at the ground, his expression dark.

After an uncomfortable moment, the Saracen guide, Mister Ibn-al-Arabi, walked up to them with an entourage of helpers, fussing over the group with a feigned concern.

"Oh, how could this have happened?" he said, covering his beard in mock surprise. "Mercy, oh mercy! Please forgive us for our negligence, o' honorable Franks. A servant must have accidentally kept a lamp lit near our flour supply when they departed for the night. By the Lord's raging sands… truly, our mistake has wronged you greatly. I would have no cause to refuse were you to slice my head clean off right this moment!"

Roland clenched his fist and took in a shaky breath, before approaching Mister Arabi and assuring him that no such executions were going to happen. "It was an innocent mistake, Sir Arabi. As none of my fellows were harmed, let us put this incident behind us, although I would appreciate for other accommodations to be arranged."

The Saracen man nodded enthusiastically and relayed the order to his countrymen. "Your magnanimity is just as great as your dashing appearance, Sir Roland. Let it be known that I shall use all my power to ensure the rest of your stay is without incident."

"I… hope so as well."

With the opportunity of further rest no longer available, the group followed Sir Arabi to the city's biggest marketplace: the Riverbed Bazaar, where they were treated to a lovely breakfast of freshly-baked pastries and flowers stewed in a refreshing yogurt sauce. Lucius had fully woken up by then. It was during their meal that he wondered why the mission window didn't appear.

Perhaps it was because there were no actual assailants? The explosion was but a single instance. Surely though the system would issue a quest to discover the source of the attack… unless it was never meant for them in the first place.

Yes, now Lucius understood. The players were merely caught in the crossfire. There was no actual intent to eliminate them, thus the system did not act. The true target was someone else.

With that little epiphany tucked away in Lucius's mind, he marched on with his companions as Mister Arabi led them to all sorts of locales. It was clear that the man was attempting to distract away from the prior assassination attempt—and the players kept a restless eye on anything that could pose a threat around them—but other than that Lucius had a grand ol' time.

The guide held true to his word and brought Lucius to a local textile shop, where he obtained a snazzy little tunic for himself matching the Saracen culture. Lucius registered it with his top-hat skill and proudly flaunted the outfit. The gentleman spared no restraint in his compliments about the lovely thing, and for a moment he spied a flash of guilt in his Saracen friend's eyes. He really was thankful that Lucius took the time and effort to delve and truly learn all about this land's customs, and it was because of this that the two made for a jolly pair.

Later into the afternoon, Lucius was pulled aside by the Mister Arabi. He had a conflicted expression and struggled to find the right words to say, before eventually whispering to him, "Might I ask you a question?"

"But of course! What ails you, my friend?"

"What is your association with that man, Roland?"

Lucius rubbed his chin. "I would say we are associates."

"Associates. Hm, and just how much do you know of his history—of his exploits during the holy war?"

"I must admit that I do not know much at all. Sir Roland doesn't typically like to talk about it."

"I am not surprised." Mister Arabi uttered a spiteful laugh. "Sir Lucius, you are an outsider of these lands. That is not a bad thing. You and your kind have not wronged us, and though our exchanges have been brief I can tell that you are a worldly and kind man. You sought to learn our practices despite having no need, and your mannerisms are no less fluent than one who has lived in these sand-ridden dunes all their life. Why, you even now wear our garments! I have nothing but respect toward a modest man such as yourself."

Lucius tilted his head, curious. "I am thankful for your kind words, but why mention this to me now?"

Mister Arabi closed his eyes, preparing himself, before speaking again. "Your people are innocent, Sir Lucius. I do not wish to involve you in what shall soon occur. So, I wish to offer a proposal."

"I'm listening."

The man pointed at Sir Roland. "You may stay here as long as you wish. I only ask that no matter what you see, no matter how desperate his cries for aid are, that you will remain a bystander. Do not involve yourself in our affairs. Should you do so, we will ensure your people safe passage back to Francia once our business has concluded. Do you accept?"

Lucius didn't expect to be told the Saracens' intentions so plainly, but he was quite interested to see how they would act next.

"Very well, you have a deal."

For the first time since their arrival, Mister Arabi bid Lucius a genuine smile and held his palms out in a Saracen sign of goodwill. "I knew you were a smart one. Now, carry on as you have. I will alert the others of our agreement. Your people need not fear an attack any longer."

Lucius grinned and traced the silhouette of the sun on his palm. "I shall hold you to it."

>[Virtual Goddess of the Wired is feeling conflicted about your actions. While it does understand your desire to protect your companions, sacrificing Sir Roland to do so leaves a bitter taste in the Star's mouth]<

>[Sinister Interdimensional Bureaucrat is impressed by your savvy business skills and encourages you not to listen to the Goddess's words]<

>[King of the Gerudo lets out a loud laugh and says that the people of the desert are not ones you should cross. If they wish to slaughter Sir Roland, then it shall be so. His fate is sealed]<

Mister Arabi stepped back and moved to return to the others. Before he did, however, he reached into his robe and gave Lucius a large sack of gold coins—the local currency.

"Consider this a gift to celebrate our accord," he said. "Even after the wretched emperor's conquest of our lands, Arabia is still rich with jewels and water. Take this opportunity with your fellows to enjoy yourselves, and when you return… deliver my good graces to Sir Ganelon."

"You are close with him?"

The man looked thoughtful for a moment. "Out of all the Franks in that cursed nation, he is the only one who sought to help us in our time of need. We owe him much, especially for leading Sir Roland right into our clutches."

With that, he left, and Lucius waltzed toward his companions with a cheerful hum.

In three days, the coronation for the new Emir would begin. Everyone from the lowest pauper to the richest merchant was invited to attend, and so too were the players.

Lucius had a feeling however that the ceremony would not be as simple as it seemed.

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