[INFLUENCE DETECTED: Intellectual Affinity Reinforcement]
[Corruption Progress (Marcia Valemont): 5% → 8% - Seeded Thoughts Stage]
Behavioral Shift: Increased trust, perceived intellectual kinship. Seeks further interaction.
"Master Elidor?" Marcia breathed, leaning forward slightly. "I've only seen passing references to his work. Is that detailed here?" She gestured to his book.
Lucien handed it to her. "Page two-thirteen. Though I suspect his failures were deliberately understated in the official Academy archives. Too embarrassing for the Nytherian traditionalists." He let a hint of disdain for the establishment colour his tone, aligning himself with her potential frustrations.
She took the book, her fingers brushing his for a fleeting moment. A slight flush crept up her neck. "Thank you, Lucien. This… this is incredibly helpful."
"Knowledge should be shared," Lucien replied smoothly. "Especially when it illuminates the flaws in accepted dogma. Perhaps we could compare notes sometime? This branch of theory has… fascinating applications." He let the implication hang – applications beyond dry academia, applications that might intrigue a mind starved for significance.
Marcia's eyes widened slightly. "I… I would like that."
The seed was watered. The thread tightened.
Lucien's next move was less subtle. He needed to accelerate Kieran's simmering resentment and position himself as the solution. He found his opportunity during Combat Pracitcum in the afternoon. The session focused on disarming techniques against armed opponents.
Kieran, paired with a smug Theron Varyn crony, was struggling. His movements were aggressive but undisciplined, fueled by frustration. His partner easily exploited his openings, disarming him repeatedly with mocking efficiency. Each failure etched deeper lines of humiliation on Kieran's face. His [Corruption Susceptibility] pulsed angrily.
Lucien waited. He executed his own drills with cold precision, disarming his assigned partner – a nervous Aldric junior – effortlessly each time, drawing minimal attention. He watched Kieran get disarmed yet again, this time stumbling backwards. The crony laughed.
Now.
As Kieran bent to retrieve his practice blade, face burning, Lucien appeared beside him as if by chance. He didn't look at Kieran directly, instead surveying the room with detached interest.
"Varyn's lapdog relies on anticipating predictable anger," Lucien murmured, his voice barely audible over the clatter of practice weapons. "He pushes, you shove back blindly. He knows it. Uses it." He paused, letting the observation sink into Kieran's bruised ego. "The disarming technique he favors? It leaves his lead leg overextended for a fraction longer than the standard form. A vulnerability, if you're calm enough to see it. Exploit the opening, not the insult."
Kieran froze, his hand on the practice sword's hilt. He glanced up at Lucien, suspicion warring with the desperate need for an advantage. Lucien met his gaze for a split second, his expression unreadable, then turned and walked away, leaving Kieran with the tactical insight and the implication: I see your weakness, but I also see his. Use it.