'Tace'curses inwardly as he hears the sounds of fast approaching footsteps. He immediately moves the glowing orbs back to the position they were just in, circumnavigating the hostelry if needed.
He scans the area in the distance that the sound came from and that should now be lit up.
Bonus Action: Move the dancing lights up to 60ft back to where the sounds came from Movement: Only if needed to be able to get line of sight to the sounds. Action: will decide once I know what he sees
As he looks around, Arren notices that this place is familiar. He can't quite place it, but he feels he's been here before. And yet, it is etirely wrong. The sky above is the color of ash, and everything around him — the mountains, the road, the patch of grass where he's camped — is darkened, dull, lifeless. Wherever he looks, he sees only gray and hears nothing but silence.
Where is everybody? He was supposed to be with others, wasn't he? The tents beside him are fit for more than one person, and there's also a carriage ... but no horses to pull it. How did he reach this place? Did he come here with someone? In that carriage? Where are they now, then?
The Half-Elf walks a few steps in no particular direction, trying to recognize the area. Surely he'll find someone if he keeps walking. He raises a hand to his mouth to call out, but when he opens it nothing comes out. His throat strains, the muscles tense with effort, yet the air stays still.
What ...? How…? What is this place?
He turns back toward the camp, and when his eyes fall on the carriage, he notices a shape lying on the ground, bound to one of the wheels. How hadn't he seen it before?
Arren runs toward it, but his body feels unbearably heavy. Each step weighs more than the last, and it seems he'll never reach the carriage, even though he hasn't walked far from it.
The figure seems to notice him and begins to move its lips. There is no sound at all, but the words form clearly in his mind:
“No Meyen belongs here. You, who were born in Dite but do not oppose them, have betrayed your brethren. May Aleshi take them — and you with them."
The figure keeps speaking, but Arren can't make out any of the words. When he finally reaches him and grabs his shoulders to demand where everyone has gone, the figure's expression twists into laughter. He laughs hard — but still, no sound. Suddenly, the figure's eyes shift past him, and a flicker of triumph glints in their emptiness.
Arren turns — and realizes they are no longer alone. From deep within the earth, shapes begin to crawl out, slow and deliberate. He tries to move, but his limbs refuse to obey. Looking down, he sees shadows coiling up his legs, rooting him in place.
He reaches for his sword, painfully slow. The figures draw closer, armed with short swords and daggers, and he recognizes their faces: the bandits, the ones he fought the night before. Or did he fight them alongside someone else? He can't remember clearly. No, he was alone then as well. Hasn't it always been that way?
They advance in silence. Arren grasps at his belt, but his sword isn't there. No sword, no shield. His hands are empty.
One by one, they raise their blades, and the Arren realizes he is lost.
Bryn doesn't need to move to see anything. Just moving the lights allows him to see the bandits, or rather, their silhouettes. Bryn sees two silhouettes on their way to him. As they've already passed the light, he can't see them clearly, but their figures block some of the light since they're between him and the lights, so Bryn can at least know where they are, approximately. Bryn thinks the two are about 90 feet away and are running in his direction. At the moment, he can't tell if they carry any weapons. All Bryn can tell is that there are two of them, that they are running towards him, and that they seem like some tall humanoid shapes.
It is still Bryn's turn, awaiting his action.
Arren realises that he's lost and has no means to defend himself. Nonetheless, when the nearest bandit is about to strike, he instinctively raises his arms to defend himself, closing his eyes briefly while dreading the coming blow. But it never comes.
Arren opens his eyes. The blade is still raised, but along with its wielder - their face distorted with hatred - it is frozen in place, like some odd marble statue. Perhaps Arren lowers his hands, slowly, and looks around. They're all frozen. The figures that rose from the earth. The one tied to the carriage. The shadowy tendrils on his legs. Even the ashen sky. As if time had stopped for all but himself, Arren alone can move his upper half while all else remains frozen, unmoving.
"Hmm, not quite to my taste. It's all a bit... grim, don't you think?" The voice, sounding strangely familiar, albeit belonging to someone Arren cannot at the moment recall, comes from behind Arren. But if Arren turns to look behind him, he'll see only more of the frozen figures. It is a woman's voice, honeyed and smoky, soft and pleasant. The voice then continues, still from behind him. Perhaps, just out of sight. Moving along as Arren turns, maybe, as Arren can't spot the speaker. "I mean, look at these. So... sharp!" Arren hears the sound of a rock cracking, once again behind him. He turns, finding the blade of the nearest frozen figure now broken, its pieces lying on the ground just below.
"Hmpf. Maybe not that sharp. You could probably deal with them if you had your trusted weapons, couldn't you? Well, that's rather unfortunate. It seems you don't have them right now. It would be a shame if, in this situation, the world were to start to MOVE!" The voice suddenly shouts, yet everything remains frozen. Arren can hear the voice giggling from behind him. "Were you expecting them to move? Hmm, maybe you weren't. Well, where was I? Oh, yes. Like I said, this is wayyyy too grim for me. Couldn't you make it more vivid? Add flowers or something. Remove some of these statues. Remove all of the statues. Sit on a flowerbed on a cosy afternoon. No, that's too colourful, don't you think? Too gleeful. Can't have that, we can't have that. After all, while we're chatting over here, they're fighting over there, aren't they? For their lives, for their freedom? For... What else was it? Come on, what does she struggle for?"
A few moments of silence pass while the voice awaits an answer, until it finally exclaims: "Oh right! I forgot that you made it so that you can't speak in this grim world. See? This is exactly what I was talking about. 'I'm Arren, a hard-boiled soldier. I am so tough; everything is so grim around me. It's all so sorrowful," the voice says in a clearly mocking tone. "Think of something nicer next time, can you? A nice, quiet, grass-covered hill on a warm late-summer evening when the sky is clear, but a chilly wind blows occasionally. What do you think?"
'Tace' starts to aim the crossbow, thinking back to what the Lieutenant said about making any warning count, but quickly lowers it. I need to be sure it is absolutely necessary.
So instead he speaks the word of magic and the glowing orbs disappear from behind the two silhouettes, re-appearing in a square starting 10 feet in front of them and ending 20 feet in front of them, designed to ensure the two figures are illuminated as they advance as if down a road with street lights either side. They now appear not as glowing orbs, but as flame-like torches floating in the air at the height they would be if carried by someone of elven stature.
"There will be no warning shot, turn back or find a crossbow bolt in your chest!", he calls out.
Now he knows the exact direction they are coming from, and heading to, he moves to get some cover from the corner of the hostelry. His movement also makes sure he no longer stands in the position the sound of his voice came from. Just in case they have crossbows or bows as well and get lucky.
Action: Re-cast dancing lights in order to move them in front of the advancing figures Movement: Across to gain cover from the carriage, while still having eyes on the figures
What the hell…? Arren tries to place the strangely familiar voice, which sounds pleasant, yet somehow irritating all the same. This is not the time for jokes, he tries to say, though the words form more in his mind than on his lips. Who in his right mind would be thinking of flowers and cozy afternoons when facing danger?
Still, his mind responds on its own, and as the honeyed, smoky voice makes suggestions, he can't help but picture them: the frozen shape of a bandit turning to dust, swept away by a soft wind that hadn't been there before. Then another. And another. Arren stubbornly tries to reject the thought of flowers, but the harder he fights it, the clearer the image becomes — a single bloom taking shape in his mind. Red and yellow, like a burst of fire, unfolding in a myriad of geometric petals.
It is a fleeting thought, though, since the voice makes him recall that someone fighting on the "other side", and this thought stirs his unease once again. He shouldn't be here. He doesn't remember exactly why, but something inside him screams that he needs to wake up. NOW.
Still, what the voice says next makes Arren speak. "Fighting for their lives and their freedom?"Does the voice mean the bandits that have been harassing them? “Harassing us isn't the way to achieve freedom," he says aloud before realizing he's speaking. Then he hesitates. Who does she mean by she ? The Commandant? He knows she's trying to make things better... but how exactly? How is he supposed to know, when she shares almost nothing?
"This is no time for games," he mutters, trying to push the voice away. "I need to go."
He raises a hand to rub his eyes. If this is a dream, he needs it to end.
When the orbs suddenly disappear and reappear to surround them, the bandits briefly stop, hesitating. It gives Bryn a moment to see them clearly. Both dressed in dark clothes, wielding wooden shields that, unlike those he saw before, seem like actual shields rather than improvised planks nailed together. One holds a handaxe in the other hand, and the other a straight sword. They look at the torch-like lights, clearly not produced by torches. They then look at each other, nod, and resume advancing, though at a slower pace. They're walking now, rather than running, their shields held high defensively.
"It's a nice trick you've got there!" One of them calls, though Bryn can't see which. "Gave some of our guys a proper fright!" They raise their voice enough to be heard, but not anything more than that. Surely, they can raise their voice more. There's no telling if any of the others can hear them or not. "Of course, they didn't expect the Meyen army to use magic. Has the military discovered the secrets of the Levickan academy, or are you just... unique?"
They step outof the light. Again, since the light is behind them, it shows their approaching silhouettes, but soon, they're close enough for Bryn to see with his dark-acclimated eyes, too. They stop briefly, scanning the area, until eventually one notices Bryn and points him out to the other as well, at which point, they start approaching straight towards him. "But one of our guys said there's a special soldier amongst your group. Look, you don't know our abilities, and we don't quite know yours. If we fight, you might kill us, or we might kill you. Will you take that chance? There are more of your friends in that building, but more of us out there, too."
The two bandits are currently 50 feet away from Bryn, walking at a normal pace (~30 feet/round) straight towards him. Their shields are held to cover most of their body. In his reply, please also mention if he went for the "northwestern" or "southwestern" corner.
To Arren's replies, when he finally speaks, the voice only responds with more amused giggles. "Of course. Well, don't let me hold you. If you want to meet me again, make sure it's in a nice place, just like I described."
Once the voice stops talking, the world resumes moving around Arren, as if it never stopped. The nearest bandit slashes down, but with their blade now broken, they don't hit Arren at all. The rest close in, their blades raised, and... Arren wakes up, the memory of the dream still vivid in his mind, to the finer details of it. At the moment, it is still dark outside, and the Lieutenant is trancing peacefully nearby. Commandant Nattesnabrn nearby sleeps on her side with her back turned towards the rest of the room. Outside, where 'Tace' is likely watching, it is currently quiet.
((The timelines of Bryn and Arren might not be in sync right now.))
'Tace's heart begins to race as the bandits advance, obviously better equipped and more competent than before. Crap, this is bad. I don't like these odds.
He listens to them speak openly about the Levickan academy, and how he is a special solider, and how it would be a risk fighting them. Like I trust anything they say. For all. know they are just distracting me.
"I guess you are the baby sitters then. Very chatty, aren't you? How about you tell me about your little band of misfits? Whilst you can of course. Because you might have a better chance of sounding reasonable about us not fighting you if you weren't sneaking up on us in the dead of night", he says, and then backs away from the pair, heading directly away until just beyond where he can no longer see anything but silhouette and then moving sideways so they won't know exactly where he is.
He then moves the floating torches so that they surround the bandits again. Two of them 10 feet back and ten feet apart, and two between him and them, 10 feet closer and 10 feet apart, making a lit up area of about 40ft with them at the centre.
The Lieutenant said not to bother with warning shots, just to let them have it. So be it!
He fires his crossbow from the darkness at the bandit with the hand axe, figuring that it was the bigger concern as it can be thrown.
Movement: 20 feet back from the South-west corner if the hostelry, then 10 feet sideways (depending on where the bandits are, it would likely be 20ft south-east, then 10ft south) Bonus Action: Move dancing lights as mentioned above Action: Attack hand axe wielding bandit with crossbow - with advantage due to being unseen (which also means they don't get the benefit of dodge) To Hit (with advantage): (2, 4)+6=10
Inside the hostelry, Arren jolts awake, eyes wide, expecting to hear shouting outside or see the others alert and ready. Instead, he finds the Commandant and the Lieutenant resting peacefully — unlike his own restless sleep — and silence from beyond the walls.
He sits up abruptly in his bedroll, remaining still for a few moments as confusion lingers. His mind races to make sense of what just happened. The rational part of him insists it was nothing more than the result of a tense, half-sleepless night — his body on edge, expecting another attack. And yet, he remembers every detail of the dream with unusual clarity.
He recalls the other nights too, filled with strange, half-forgotten dreams and that familiar, unsettling feeling of being watched. Was it all caused by the same strange presence that spoke to him tonight? And why can he remember this one so clearly? He tries to recall the voice — that soft, honeyed voice that had sounded so familiar. Where had he heard it before?
Hearing no disturbance outside, Arren assumes Tace's watch continues without issue. Still, he remains sitting for a while longer, listening, just in case. If nothing happens, he'll lie back down, trying to rest a little more. His thoughts refuse to settle, though. Whoever that voice belonged to, it knew too much. About him, and about the bandits that had been following them. As if it had been there all along, watching closely.
'Thump!' The bolt strikes the bandit's shield. "Shooting isn't nice! We didn't want to kill you all," one of the bandits says, "but dealing with magicians sure is troublesome. More trouble than worth." The bandits suddenly split, each dashing to a different side of the light-cube and out of it until they can no longer be seen. "Advance!" One calls, from the other side of the hostelry.
Soon, Bryn sees one bandit, on his way to where Bryn was before, getting close enough so that both can see each other. He then changes course and starts running towards Bryn. At the same time, Bryn hears someone running towards him from behind. Turning briefly to see, he spots another bandit, armed with just a scimitar, running towards him from the direction of the carriage. A third bandit, the one with the shield and the straight sword, just turns around the "northeastern" corner of the hostelry.
The scimitar-wielding bandit, reaching Bryn, jumps at him and tries to topple Bryn and pin him to the ground! Bryn must make a DC12 Strength/Dexterity save (choose) or fall Prone and be Grappled.
Meanwhile, inside the hostelry, Walnuts wakes Arren up. It hadn't been long since Arren awoke from his dream, and although he had gone back to sleep already, he doesn't believe it was long since he fell asleep again. The Lieutenant, bringing a finger up to his lips to sign silence and briefly nodding towards the still-sleeping Commandant, whispers as quietly as he can. "Sounds like trouble outside. The Corporal hadn't called for help yet, but one of them just called to 'advance'. Be prepared, just in case." Likewise, he loads his firearm and holds it ready, and opens the door, ready to dash out should 'Tace' call for help. From outside, Arren can hear the steps of someone running by the barricaded door, towards the window.
Sorry, I don't think I'll have time to set up a map today, so none at the moment. I'll add one when I get a chance, if needed. In the meantime, Bryn stands south of the carriage (if I understood correctly) and sees the bandit with the handaxe and shield 20 feet from him, by the hostelry, a second bandit right next to him (or on top, if Bryn failed his save) and a third just at the corner of the hostelry, by the window where the others sleep.
Arren doesn't need to be told twice. At Walnuts' warning, he rises quickly, grabs his weapons, and moves carefully so as not to disturb Flèche's sleep. He positions himself to the left of the window, keeping to the side so he can see outside without standing directly in front of it, to avoid becoming an easy target.
He wonders where the running bandit is headed. If they haven't tried the door, do they already know it's barricaded? Either way, he waits by the window, ready to strike in case that bandit someone tries to break through it. From his position, he can also reach the Commandant quickly if he needs to place himself between her and danger.
Action:Ready an attack in case the bandit comes close the window and breaks it. Reaction: Protection in case anything targets the Commandant.
'Tace' curses as the crossbow bolt embeds into the shield, but he doesn't have time to dwell on his miss. Fortunately he spots the third bandit out of the corner of his eye, giving himself just enough time to wriggle out their grasp as they jump towards him. Ok, the odds just got worse. Is there still time for a deal?
"Ok, you say you don't want to kill us all. What do you want? Perhaps I can help you get it without bloodshed, because that is what will happen if my comrades get involved", he says to the bandit with the hand axe.
His words are laced with subtext, as he communicates in thieves' cant.
"Call off your men and we can deal".
As he speaks he drops his concentration and allows the torches to fade away. He stands unarmed waiting to see whether his words have had any effect.
Dexterity Save: 9+6=15 (Success - not Prone or Grappled) Bonus Action: Disengage Movement: Steps back 15ft Action: Influence Deception: 16+6=22 (This might be Persuasion20, I am really not sure if Bryn is lying or not right now, but he is certainly stalling)
'Tace' curses inwardly as he hears the sounds of fast approaching footsteps. He immediately moves the glowing orbs back to the position they were just in, circumnavigating the hostelry if needed.
He scans the area in the distance that the sound came from and that should now be lit up.
Bonus Action: Move the dancing lights up to 60ft back to where the sounds came from
Movement: Only if needed to be able to get line of sight to the sounds.
Action: will decide once I know what he sees
As he looks around, Arren notices that this place is familiar. He can't quite place it, but he feels he's been here before. And yet, it is etirely wrong. The sky above is the color of ash, and everything around him — the mountains, the road, the patch of grass where he's camped — is darkened, dull, lifeless. Wherever he looks, he sees only gray and hears nothing but silence.
Where is everybody? He was supposed to be with others, wasn't he? The tents beside him are fit for more than one person, and there's also a carriage ... but no horses to pull it. How did he reach this place? Did he come here with someone? In that carriage? Where are they now, then?
The Half-Elf walks a few steps in no particular direction, trying to recognize the area. Surely he'll find someone if he keeps walking. He raises a hand to his mouth to call out, but when he opens it nothing comes out. His throat strains, the muscles tense with effort, yet the air stays still.
What ...? How…? What is this place?
He turns back toward the camp, and when his eyes fall on the carriage, he notices a shape lying on the ground, bound to one of the wheels. How hadn't he seen it before?
Arren runs toward it, but his body feels unbearably heavy. Each step weighs more than the last, and it seems he'll never reach the carriage, even though he hasn't walked far from it.
The figure seems to notice him and begins to move its lips. There is no sound at all, but the words form clearly in his mind:
“No Meyen belongs here. You, who were born in Dite but do not oppose them, have betrayed your brethren. May Aleshi take them — and you with them."
The figure keeps speaking, but Arren can't make out any of the words. When he finally reaches him and grabs his shoulders to demand where everyone has gone, the figure's expression twists into laughter. He laughs hard — but still, no sound. Suddenly, the figure's eyes shift past him, and a flicker of triumph glints in their emptiness.
Arren turns — and realizes they are no longer alone. From deep within the earth, shapes begin to crawl out, slow and deliberate. He tries to move, but his limbs refuse to obey. Looking down, he sees shadows coiling up his legs, rooting him in place.
He reaches for his sword, painfully slow. The figures draw closer, armed with short swords and daggers, and he recognizes their faces: the bandits, the ones he fought the night before. Or did he fight them alongside someone else? He can't remember clearly. No, he was alone then as well. Hasn't it always been that way?
They advance in silence. Arren grasps at his belt, but his sword isn't there. No sword, no shield. His hands are empty.
One by one, they raise their blades, and the Arren realizes he is lost.
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Bryn doesn't need to move to see anything. Just moving the lights allows him to see the bandits, or rather, their silhouettes. Bryn sees two silhouettes on their way to him. As they've already passed the light, he can't see them clearly, but their figures block some of the light since they're between him and the lights, so Bryn can at least know where they are, approximately. Bryn thinks the two are about 90 feet away and are running in his direction. At the moment, he can't tell if they carry any weapons. All Bryn can tell is that there are two of them, that they are running towards him, and that they seem like some tall humanoid shapes.
It is still Bryn's turn, awaiting his action.
Arren realises that he's lost and has no means to defend himself. Nonetheless, when the nearest bandit is about to strike, he instinctively raises his arms to defend himself, closing his eyes briefly while dreading the coming blow. But it never comes.
Arren opens his eyes. The blade is still raised, but along with its wielder - their face distorted with hatred - it is frozen in place, like some odd marble statue. Perhaps Arren lowers his hands, slowly, and looks around. They're all frozen. The figures that rose from the earth. The one tied to the carriage. The shadowy tendrils on his legs. Even the ashen sky. As if time had stopped for all but himself, Arren alone can move his upper half while all else remains frozen, unmoving.
"Hmm, not quite to my taste. It's all a bit... grim, don't you think?" The voice, sounding strangely familiar, albeit belonging to someone Arren cannot at the moment recall, comes from behind Arren. But if Arren turns to look behind him, he'll see only more of the frozen figures. It is a woman's voice, honeyed and smoky, soft and pleasant. The voice then continues, still from behind him. Perhaps, just out of sight. Moving along as Arren turns, maybe, as Arren can't spot the speaker. "I mean, look at these. So... sharp!" Arren hears the sound of a rock cracking, once again behind him. He turns, finding the blade of the nearest frozen figure now broken, its pieces lying on the ground just below.
"Hmpf. Maybe not that sharp. You could probably deal with them if you had your trusted weapons, couldn't you? Well, that's rather unfortunate. It seems you don't have them right now. It would be a shame if, in this situation, the world were to start to MOVE!" The voice suddenly shouts, yet everything remains frozen. Arren can hear the voice giggling from behind him. "Were you expecting them to move? Hmm, maybe you weren't. Well, where was I? Oh, yes. Like I said, this is wayyyy too grim for me. Couldn't you make it more vivid? Add flowers or something. Remove some of these statues. Remove all of the statues. Sit on a flowerbed on a cosy afternoon. No, that's too colourful, don't you think? Too gleeful. Can't have that, we can't have that. After all, while we're chatting over here, they're fighting over there, aren't they? For their lives, for their freedom? For... What else was it? Come on, what does she struggle for?"
A few moments of silence pass while the voice awaits an answer, until it finally exclaims: "Oh right! I forgot that you made it so that you can't speak in this grim world. See? This is exactly what I was talking about. 'I'm Arren, a hard-boiled soldier. I am so tough; everything is so grim around me. It's all so sorrowful," the voice says in a clearly mocking tone. "Think of something nicer next time, can you? A nice, quiet, grass-covered hill on a warm late-summer evening when the sky is clear, but a chilly wind blows occasionally. What do you think?"
Varielky
'Tace' starts to aim the crossbow, thinking back to what the Lieutenant said about making any warning count, but quickly lowers it. I need to be sure it is absolutely necessary.
So instead he speaks the word of magic and the glowing orbs disappear from behind the two silhouettes, re-appearing in a square starting 10 feet in front of them and ending 20 feet in front of them, designed to ensure the two figures are illuminated as they advance as if down a road with street lights either side. They now appear not as glowing orbs, but as flame-like torches floating in the air at the height they would be if carried by someone of elven stature.
"There will be no warning shot, turn back or find a crossbow bolt in your chest!", he calls out.
Now he knows the exact direction they are coming from, and heading to, he moves to get some cover from the corner of the hostelry. His movement also makes sure he no longer stands in the position the sound of his voice came from. Just in case they have crossbows or bows as well and get lucky.
Action: Re-cast dancing lights in order to move them in front of the advancing figures
Movement: Across to gain cover from the carriage, while still having eyes on the figures
What the hell…? Arren tries to place the strangely familiar voice, which sounds pleasant, yet somehow irritating all the same. This is not the time for jokes, he tries to say, though the words form more in his mind than on his lips. Who in his right mind would be thinking of flowers and cozy afternoons when facing danger?
Still, his mind responds on its own, and as the honeyed, smoky voice makes suggestions, he can't help but picture them: the frozen shape of a bandit turning to dust, swept away by a soft wind that hadn't been there before. Then another. And another. Arren stubbornly tries to reject the thought of flowers, but the harder he fights it, the clearer the image becomes — a single bloom taking shape in his mind. Red and yellow, like a burst of fire, unfolding in a myriad of geometric petals.
It is a fleeting thought, though, since the voice makes him recall that someone fighting on the "other side", and this thought stirs his unease once again. He shouldn't be here. He doesn't remember exactly why, but something inside him screams that he needs to wake up. NOW.
Still, what the voice says next makes Arren speak. "Fighting for their lives and their freedom?" Does the voice mean the bandits that have been harassing them? “Harassing us isn't the way to achieve freedom," he says aloud before realizing he's speaking. Then he hesitates. Who does she mean by she ? The Commandant? He knows she's trying to make things better... but how exactly? How is he supposed to know, when she shares almost nothing?
"This is no time for games," he mutters, trying to push the voice away. "I need to go."
He raises a hand to rub his eyes. If this is a dream, he needs it to end.
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
When the orbs suddenly disappear and reappear to surround them, the bandits briefly stop, hesitating. It gives Bryn a moment to see them clearly. Both dressed in dark clothes, wielding wooden shields that, unlike those he saw before, seem like actual shields rather than improvised planks nailed together. One holds a handaxe in the other hand, and the other a straight sword. They look at the torch-like lights, clearly not produced by torches. They then look at each other, nod, and resume advancing, though at a slower pace. They're walking now, rather than running, their shields held high defensively.
"It's a nice trick you've got there!" One of them calls, though Bryn can't see which. "Gave some of our guys a proper fright!" They raise their voice enough to be heard, but not anything more than that. Surely, they can raise their voice more. There's no telling if any of the others can hear them or not. "Of course, they didn't expect the Meyen army to use magic. Has the military discovered the secrets of the Levickan academy, or are you just... unique?"
They step out of the light. Again, since the light is behind them, it shows their approaching silhouettes, but soon, they're close enough for Bryn to see with his dark-acclimated eyes, too. They stop briefly, scanning the area, until eventually one notices Bryn and points him out to the other as well, at which point, they start approaching straight towards him. "But one of our guys said there's a special soldier amongst your group. Look, you don't know our abilities, and we don't quite know yours. If we fight, you might kill us, or we might kill you. Will you take that chance? There are more of your friends in that building, but more of us out there, too."
The two bandits are currently 50 feet away from Bryn, walking at a normal pace (~30 feet/round) straight towards him. Their shields are held to cover most of their body. In his reply, please also mention if he went for the "northwestern" or "southwestern" corner.
To Arren's replies, when he finally speaks, the voice only responds with more amused giggles. "Of course. Well, don't let me hold you. If you want to meet me again, make sure it's in a nice place, just like I described."
Once the voice stops talking, the world resumes moving around Arren, as if it never stopped. The nearest bandit slashes down, but with their blade now broken, they don't hit Arren at all. The rest close in, their blades raised, and... Arren wakes up, the memory of the dream still vivid in his mind, to the finer details of it. At the moment, it is still dark outside, and the Lieutenant is trancing peacefully nearby. Commandant Nattesnabrn nearby sleeps on her side with her back turned towards the rest of the room. Outside, where 'Tace' is likely watching, it is currently quiet.
((The timelines of Bryn and Arren might not be in sync right now.))
Varielky
'Tace's heart begins to race as the bandits advance, obviously better equipped and more competent than before. Crap, this is bad. I don't like these odds.
He listens to them speak openly about the Levickan academy, and how he is a special solider, and how it would be a risk fighting them. Like I trust anything they say. For all. know they are just distracting me.
"I guess you are the baby sitters then. Very chatty, aren't you? How about you tell me about your little band of misfits? Whilst you can of course. Because you might have a better chance of sounding reasonable about us not fighting you if you weren't sneaking up on us in the dead of night", he says, and then backs away from the pair, heading directly away until just beyond where he can no longer see anything but silhouette and then moving sideways so they won't know exactly where he is.
He then moves the floating torches so that they surround the bandits again. Two of them 10 feet back and ten feet apart, and two between him and them, 10 feet closer and 10 feet apart, making a lit up area of about 40ft with them at the centre.
The Lieutenant said not to bother with warning shots, just to let them have it. So be it!
He fires his crossbow from the darkness at the bandit with the hand axe, figuring that it was the bigger concern as it can be thrown.
Movement: 20 feet back from the South-west corner if the hostelry, then 10 feet sideways (depending on where the bandits are, it would likely be 20ft south-east, then 10ft south)
Bonus Action: Move dancing lights as mentioned above
Action: Attack hand axe wielding bandit with crossbow - with advantage due to being unseen (which also means they don't get the benefit of dodge)
To Hit (with advantage): (2, 4)+6=10
Inside the hostelry, Arren jolts awake, eyes wide, expecting to hear shouting outside or see the others alert and ready. Instead, he finds the Commandant and the Lieutenant resting peacefully — unlike his own restless sleep — and silence from beyond the walls.
He sits up abruptly in his bedroll, remaining still for a few moments as confusion lingers. His mind races to make sense of what just happened. The rational part of him insists it was nothing more than the result of a tense, half-sleepless night — his body on edge, expecting another attack. And yet, he remembers every detail of the dream with unusual clarity.
He recalls the other nights too, filled with strange, half-forgotten dreams and that familiar, unsettling feeling of being watched. Was it all caused by the same strange presence that spoke to him tonight? And why can he remember this one so clearly? He tries to recall the voice — that soft, honeyed voice that had sounded so familiar. Where had he heard it before?
Hearing no disturbance outside, Arren assumes Tace's watch continues without issue. Still, he remains sitting for a while longer, listening, just in case. If nothing happens, he'll lie back down, trying to rest a little more. His thoughts refuse to settle, though. Whoever that voice belonged to, it knew too much. About him, and about the bandits that had been following them. As if it had been there all along, watching closely.
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
'Thump!' The bolt strikes the bandit's shield. "Shooting isn't nice! We didn't want to kill you all," one of the bandits says, "but dealing with magicians sure is troublesome. More trouble than worth." The bandits suddenly split, each dashing to a different side of the light-cube and out of it until they can no longer be seen. "Advance!" One calls, from the other side of the hostelry.
Soon, Bryn sees one bandit, on his way to where Bryn was before, getting close enough so that both can see each other. He then changes course and starts running towards Bryn. At the same time, Bryn hears someone running towards him from behind. Turning briefly to see, he spots another bandit, armed with just a scimitar, running towards him from the direction of the carriage. A third bandit, the one with the shield and the straight sword, just turns around the "northeastern" corner of the hostelry.
The scimitar-wielding bandit, reaching Bryn, jumps at him and tries to topple Bryn and pin him to the ground! Bryn must make a DC12 Strength/Dexterity save (choose) or fall Prone and be Grappled.
Meanwhile, inside the hostelry, Walnuts wakes Arren up. It hadn't been long since Arren awoke from his dream, and although he had gone back to sleep already, he doesn't believe it was long since he fell asleep again. The Lieutenant, bringing a finger up to his lips to sign silence and briefly nodding towards the still-sleeping Commandant, whispers as quietly as he can. "Sounds like trouble outside. The Corporal hadn't called for help yet, but one of them just called to 'advance'. Be prepared, just in case." Likewise, he loads his firearm and holds it ready, and opens the door, ready to dash out should 'Tace' call for help. From outside, Arren can hear the steps of someone running by the barricaded door, towards the window.
Sorry, I don't think I'll have time to set up a map today, so none at the moment. I'll add one when I get a chance, if needed. In the meantime, Bryn stands south of the carriage (if I understood correctly) and sees the bandit with the handaxe and shield 20 feet from him, by the hostelry, a second bandit right next to him (or on top, if Bryn failed his save) and a third just at the corner of the hostelry, by the window where the others sleep.
Varielky
Arren doesn't need to be told twice. At Walnuts' warning, he rises quickly, grabs his weapons, and moves carefully so as not to disturb Flèche's sleep. He positions himself to the left of the window, keeping to the side so he can see outside without standing directly in front of it, to avoid becoming an easy target.
He wonders where the running bandit is headed. If they haven't tried the door, do they already know it's barricaded? Either way, he waits by the window, ready to strike in case that bandit someone tries to break through it. From his position, he can also reach the Commandant quickly if he needs to place himself between her and danger.
Action: Ready an attack in case the bandit comes close the window and breaks it.
Reaction: Protection in case anything targets the Commandant.
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
'Tace' curses as the crossbow bolt embeds into the shield, but he doesn't have time to dwell on his miss. Fortunately he spots the third bandit out of the corner of his eye, giving himself just enough time to wriggle out their grasp as they jump towards him. Ok, the odds just got worse. Is there still time for a deal?
He quickly twists around and steps back, stowing his crossbow as he retreats a short distance away.
"Ok, you say you don't want to kill us all. What do you want? Perhaps I can help you get it without bloodshed, because that is what will happen if my comrades get involved", he says to the bandit with the hand axe.
His words are laced with subtext, as he communicates in thieves' cant.
"Call off your men and we can deal".
As he speaks he drops his concentration and allows the torches to fade away. He stands unarmed waiting to see whether his words have had any effect.
Dexterity Save: 9+6=15 (Success - not Prone or Grappled)
Bonus Action: Disengage
Movement: Steps back 15ft
Action: Influence
Deception: 16+6=22 (This might be Persuasion 20, I am really not sure if Bryn is lying or not right now, but he is certainly stalling)