QuiteTheSlacker
patreon
[The Distinguished Mr. Rose] Chapter 41: Whispers of the Deceiver
🕑 Added 2025-05-01 16:36:41 +0000 UTCOgier twisted his face and stepped back, his weapon drawn. The dusk hung high above them. Here, in the dead of night, not a soul was around to interfere.
“I do not take kindly to those who prowl in the dark,” he said, sweat dripping down his brow. Ogier was uneasy.
Lucius didn’t understand why, though. The gentleman was as friendly as could be. Surely there was nothing frightening about someone like himself, no?
The Peer seemed to think otherwise. He regarded Lucius with a wariness unlike any he’s shown before: not even whilst battling the demons.
“Now, now, let us talk with words, hm? We aren’t savages,” Lucius said, flashing him a dashing smile. “My name is Lucius Rose, pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“I do not care. State your intentions, night-walker.”
“Language, Sir Ogier.”
“Apologies.”
The man startled and looked at himself, confusion etched onto his scruffy beard. “What have you done to me?”
“Pardon?”
“This… compulsion. It is unnatural, as if a hex has been cast onto my heart.”
Lucius shrugged his shoulders. “I am merely being polite.” He wasn’t quite sure what a ‘night-walker’ was, but it sure did sound like a Frankish profanity. “And I have already conveyed my intentions plainly: I wish to know you better. Who is Ogier, the man? What does he like—his interest? Why does he burden himself under a perpetual cycle of self-flagellation and despair? There is much I’d like to discuss with you.”
Lucius spoke with no lies, nor any attempts to deceive unlike the usual. He was, without a doubt, wholly genuine. Ogier was a fascinating specimen just like all the other Peers. Such falsehoods and lies they veil themselves in, refusing to acknowledge that which dwelled deep in the crevices of their soul… how could the gentleman resist pruning that budding beauty?
“You speak true,” Ogier said, baffled by his own words. “Your interest is confusing. Why seek me out now, creeping like an assassin?”
“I do not know what you mean. A busy person such as yourself would have little time to humor little ol’ humble me, so I searched for an opportunity that we may speak in private. I just so happened by chance to see you alone after the memorial service, and thus here I am: a gentleman in the flesh. No sneaking or prowling here.”
Okay, now he was lying.
“Impossible. I did not feel any presence until you drew near.”
“Perhaps you weren’t paying attention? You seem a bit inebriated, my good sir. I myself enjoy the occasional drink every now and then, but moderation is very important if you wish to keep a hale and hearty body.”
Lucius didn’t give the man a chance to question their circumstance. Every accusation was rapidly beaten away with a well-timed excuse—every suspicion repelled with an innocent dose of manipulation.
“I… perhaps you are correct,” Ogier muttered, having been thoroughly drained of any and all resistance. The victor of this match went to Lucius. “Much has happened this day. I am in need of rest.”
“Would you prefer us retire to your quarters?” Lucius asked. “I rather fancy the evening hours myself, but this isn’t about me. It’s about you. I only wish for whatever shall best bring you comfort.”
Ogier raised his head. Drowsiness sagged below his eyes, and though he was still a bit cautious toward Lucius, the Peer let out an annoyed grumble and beckoned for him to follow. “Fine. I am also curious about you, otherworlder. What your ilk are capable of—I will decide for myself here.”
The two trekked their way out of the dark and back into civilized society. Ogier didn’t go toward the barracks, however. His dwelling resided in an isolated shack far off to the side - away from the others. And by shack, Lucius really did mean a shack. The wood serving as the base was splintered and rotted, the ceiling nearly brushing against the Peer’s head, and the only curio of note inside was a broken bed.
Lucius was utterly horrified.
Ogier tried to step inside, but the gentleman stopped him.
“One moment, my friend,” he said, already pulling out his cleaning supplies. “This room is not fit for a beast, much less a man. Allow me to make it proper.”
Ogier didn’t have a chance to reply before Lucius rushed past and remodeled the place to the best of his ability.
*You have spent 200 Cosmic Coins
*(NEW!) Obtained sandpaper, paint, a brush, and a mattress
There wasn’t much he could do about the walls itself, so he smoothed out the rough parts, swept away the dust, and coated them in a lovely brownish-red: a little splash of color to help brighten things up. From then on, all he had to do was replace the old bed with a king-sized mattress, tidy up the room, and voila! Now the good sir’s abode was somewhat decent.
Ogier watched on with an utterly bewildered gaze, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His jaw hung open, his arms were practically attached to his side, and he slumped over.
When Lucius finished, he wiped his forehead and whistled for a job well done.
“Well, Sir Ogier?” he said, beckoning the man in with a wave. “Come on in.”
“Hm? Oh, alright.” The Peer staggered forward with wobbly legs, and then slowly lowered himself on the new mattress. He bounced up and down a bit, feeling the spring. “This is good.”
“Right?” Lucius chuckled.
“I am confused. No sorcery I know of is capable of manifesting such objects.”
“We otherworlders do not abide by the rules of your world. The strange and irregular, what would normally be regarded as impossible… such is the potential brought into your hands now.” Lucius reached out for a cordial handshake. “Well, are you interested?”
Ogier hesitated. Lucius could see it—the man truly did want to believe that the players could overturn the fortress’s inevitable demise, but he wasn’t there quite yet. A bigger push was necessary.
“Your parlor tricks are intriguing, but whether they will work on the demons is another matter,” he said.
“We cannot know unless we try. But first…” Lucius reached behind his back, and then pulled out a steaming cup of tea. “Fancy a cup? Our world calls it ginger tea—good for the liver.”
“Mm. I will not refuse.”
Ogier grabbed the cup and then took a small sip. Almost instantaneously, the stress vanished from his face, creases softening, and he let out a surprised groan of satisfaction.
“Refreshing,” he said, quickly finishing the rest.
“Indeed. I added a splash of honey and lemon to give it a richer taste.”
“What is honey?”
“I believe your people refer to it as ambersyrup.”
“I see, delightful.” Ogier set the empty cup down and watched with amazement as it disappeared without a trace. “... May I have another?”
Lucius smiled. “But of course. I saved one more just for you.”
After that, Lucius and Ogier engaged in a friendly conversation. It wasn’t all too serious, mainly small talk about minor things such as food and hobbies, but the Peer was well and truly beginning to open up. He looked much more relaxed than before, even deigning to laugh at some of Lucius’s stories.
Before they knew it, the suns had already begun to rise.
“You are a pleasant man,” Ogier said. “Are all otherworlders the same?”
“Maybe not quite as refined,” Lucius replied. “But do trust when I say they hold promise. Allow them to help around the fortress, my friend. There is no harm in it.”
“I am not opposed to simple chores; however, they are not ready to stand on the battlefield. I will not allow hindrances to get in the paladins’ way.”
He spoke harshly of the players and dismissed them as burdens, but underneath his cold treatment, Lucius saw something else. Something warmer.
Ogier did not reject them out of dislike, but worry. His gruff exterior was a facade to hide the gentler soul within: one all too exhausted by the dead come and gone.
Lucius stood up and laid a hand on the sullen man’s shoulder. “Try all you might, I will not be fooled by your sharp words, Sir Ogier. You care for my people, and for that I am truly thankful. But there is a point when concern turns into belittlement. We have all come here despite the danger because of our wish to protect, and to ensure, the continued prosperity of this land. That is the mission granted by your God.”
Ogier stared at the floor, refusing to look Lucius in the eye. But the gentleman did not relent. He forcefully grabbed the man’s head and brought it up until the two were face to face.
“Some of us will perish,” Lucius said. “Such is the inevitability of war, but one we are already fully aware of. What difference is there between us and your paladins? We all have gathered here for a purpose—resolved in our fight. And yet you shy away, unable to accept what must be done. That complacency is no different than tarnishing our honor!”
Ogier shook and trembled in place, his teeth grinding in anger. “Then what would you have me do?”
Lucius let go, and he stepped back. He held out his hands and gestured to him: dragging out their battle of words into a long, uncomfortable, but necessary silence.
When the tension heightened to its utmost limit, Lucius opened his mouth, and spoke with a heartfelt plea. “Give them a chance, Sir Ogier. That is all.”
The man leaned forward, ready to yell back. But he couldn’t. He knew there was nothing he could say that’d ease the storm in his heart.
Duty or dignity. What was right, or what was necessary?
In the end, Ogier made his choice, and responded to Lucius’s appeal the only way he could: with sincerity.
“... Forgive us, Lucius,” he said. “Your kind should have never been thrust with this burden.”
“It is not I you should be seeking forgiveness from. But yourself.”
“That will be difficult.”
He stood up and made for the door. The dawn would soon come, and so too were his duties.
“The otherworlders who wish to fight shall be positioned in the back,” he grumbled. “It is safest there, but I cannot guarantee safety.”
“That is more than enough,” Lucius asked. “Will you not sleep?”
“Our talk was enough. You have a strange quality, Lucius Rose. I have not felt this at peace in a long while.” Ogier laughed and, for the first time, bid the gentleman a wide grin. “I expected no less from the one chosen by the Almighty.”
Lucius cocked his head. “Whatever does that mean?”
But Ogier didn’t reply, his visage long disappeared into the hustle of another busy day.
Comments
Beeees!
His gentlemanly class certainly has some deeper powers. Everyone apologizing for language for one. And that tea is not normal tea for sure. Truly a most refined gentleman who can bring out the "refinement" in others
Jonas
He could technically keep it, but there’s also an option to dismiss the items if he doesn’t want them anymore.
forgetfulposum
Did Lucius keep the brush, sandpaper and paint, if there is any of the latter two left and the brush still usable?
