Residue of Sorrow

'Tace' looks from Nohem to Lann and frowns for a moment, and then chuckles.

"You know, the reason I am here by myself is that after your comment about sheathing my tongue, Lann, the Sergeant became suspicious of me. Quite unfortunate really, that all my hard work blending in was undone by a simple comment such as that", he says. "He figured out something is wrong, and I had to tell him that I made deals during our trip into the mountains, firstly with the bandit we left tied up, and secondly with you, Nohem", he says as he moves to stand in the middle of the tent.

"Of course suspicion grows roots very quickly, and all those little inconsistencies in the past suddenly started to bother him, and owning up to that wasn't enough. He knew there was more. Of course you know there is more as well, because you know I have a little skill in magic", he continues, and then sighs.

"Now I have two problems. Firstly, the Commandant is about to come and look for me, and she knows I am with you. I asked for you to be present when I faced her because I thought you might be interested in another deal. One that might save me from leaving here in chains considering I am guilty of far more than insubordination", he says and pauses for just a moment to read their reactions so far.

He doesn't wait long enough for them to respond though. "Secondly, I find that you are now lying to me, and believe me I am very good at spotting lies. To what end I don't know, but I do know you weren't expecting me. So what is happening here? Was the high elf not meant to come and get us? Who is she anyway? Because if you have somehow lost control of the camp, you are really of no use to me".

"Long-livers? I wonder if that includes me as well. Partly, at least," Arren replies, finding just enough energy to joke, despite everything.

He listens to Walnuts in silence, nodding once or twice. He's right: if they still don't fully understand the Commandant after so many years, how could he expect to understand the Corporal after barely a few weeks? Still, the thought does nothing to lift the weight from his chest. He can't help feeling that there must have been something he could have done differently, some sign he should have noticed sooner, before things reached this point.

"We'll have to find another replacement for you, sir," he adds quietly. "And quickly."

The prospect of meeting a new recruit—of building a relationship of trust from nothing—is not something Arren feels ready for. But one person alone can't safeguard the Commandant. It will have to happen, and hopefully sooner rather than later, before Lieutenant Tireur leaves for good.

His train of thought is interrupted the moment Commandant Nattensbarn returns. What might she have decided during that hour? What will become of the Corporal? He hopes the conversation won't grow as heated as before, though he knows better than to rely on hope.

When the Commandant suggests that he stay behind, helping the physician, Arren is tempted to accept. He'd like seeing Mydri again, and he certainly doesn't look forward to facing the Corporal. But stepping aside feels wrong. Even if the final decision rests on the Commandant's shoulders, he wouldn't forgive himself for not being there—if only to stand at her side, ready in case something goes wrong.

After a moment's hesitation, Arren looks at both his superiors and says,"I'll tag along, ma'am. I just wouldn't feel right staying behind."

He stands, ready to follow them to Nohem's tent, schooling his expression and keeping his anger tightly reined in as they set off.

(ooc: Took the short rest, as we discussed.)

(OOC: Seems like I didn't explain properly. While I'm intentionally avoiding mentioning exactly how much time has passed, mainly to allow some leeway in managing your parallel timelines, which currently don't match exactly, the Commandant was absent for much less than an hour. Arren would not have had the time to complete a short rest yet, only to start one. I'll tell you when (if) he finishes it.)

"Hmm, that's right. Unfortunate, really, since that Corporal seemed more skilled in battle than most," Walnuts replies when the issue of a replacement is mentioned. "There are plenty of fine soldiers, though. I'm sure you'll find one that'll fit. It doesn't always work on the first try, especially with a person like our Commandant."

Once the Commandant hears Arren's response, she nods once. "Then you may come as well, but I expect you to rein yourself. You come as my bodyguard, not as someone who was once Tace Peite's comrade."

((Pausing here for a bit, since Arren is once again ahead of Bryn on his timeline, and since I'm no longer sure where Bryn is headed.))

Lann seems to tense a little when their game is exposed, but Nohem seems rather entertained. "Something more? Blending in?" Nohem repeats. "I'll admit, that is not what I imagined. I was sure you had your circumstances leading up to becoming a soldier, but the way you speak... have you been merely pretending all along? Bravo! That is quite a show to put on." He pauses, pondering. "Now that I think about it, you didn't mention flexible allegiance before. I didn't fully understand, back then.

"So tell me, who are you, exactly? No, I suppose that doesn't matter much. Rather, what is it that you offer, exactly, and what exactly do you want? Whether or not I can help you depends on your answer, more than your awful interpretation of the power dynamics in our band." He leans forward a little, then whispers as if confiding in Bryn: "People don't come here to serve under others. They come for freedom. And even if they often follow their seniors' requests, they're still free to act as they please, as long as they benefit the band." 

He leans back, then resumes speaking normally. "Knowing what isn't true and knowing the truth aren't the same, and telling us that you and the soldiers have had a falling-out... I can view it as a gesture of goodwill, maybe, but you've revealed a card best kept hidden, as you're now far less threatening to us." He pauses, looking at Bryn's weapons briefly. "And keep in mind, you might kill us here, wounded as we are, but you won't be leaving camp alive after. Not unless you plan on fighting our entire band on the way out. Alone. So, you know, don't try threatening us with violence unless you're very confident in your magic."

Nohem rests his head back, no longer looking at Bryn but rather straight up. He has a triumphant smile on his face. "So, how may I help you, and why should I do it?"

'Tace' watches as Nohem processes this new information, and critically gives him a little more insight into the way this band works.

He doesn't interrupt as the senior bandit goes on to tell him he is far less threatening now, but it is not news to him. He has no intention of fighting his way out of camp, either past the soldiers or the bandits. What would it matter whether I was killed by soldiers, bandits or the elements, dead is dead?

He also smiles behind his mask as Nohem looks to the roof of the tent with the triumphant smile on his face. He does not address the talk of threats and violence when he replies, he keeps things simple.

"What do I want from you? Nothing special it seems. I simply want exactly what others have come here for. Freedom! I guess you could call it changing allegiance, or sanctuary from the soldiers. I believe you have both seen evidence that I can be of benefit to the band whilst I am here", he says looking from Nohem to Lann and back again, as if daring either to disagree.

"For now, I will leave you to think about it, there is something else I want to do before the Commandant gets here. If I can, anyway", he adds, and turns to leave the tent.

Unless they say something at that point, he will start to walk out the tent, and as he does so he will quietly speak some words of magic and move his hand in sweeping gesture down in front of his face continuing over his torso. His appearance will change to that of a middle-aged elven woman with tanned skin and dressed in the garb of a simple bandit, with the usual, basic armour and a sword and light crossbow that have seen better days. Her black hair is pulled back, but some wisps of grey have escaped to frame a face that is lined and weary. Although Nohem and Lann will only see all this from the back, with most of the detail covered by the image of a well worn, dark grey hooded cloak designed to protect her from the elements. This image is overlaid on top of his actual coat, so as to interact properly with the wind outside, and allowing him to raise the hood without glitching.

The elf holds a hand up and to her side and gives a curt wave without turning around, before lifting the hood and disappearing out into the cold night.

That will give them more to think about. Now I just have to wait to see what I walk back into.

(OOC: I will stop here as I don't know Arren's timeline, and whether Nohem and Lann might have interrupted his departure)

(OOC: @fair - Just an FYI, after being reminded by the DM that half-elves are quite rare, I have adjusted the post above to reflect that Bryn disguised himself as a wood elf).

Nohem and Lann exchange quiet looks. After Lann shrugs and shakes his head in what seems to Bryn like a sign of acquiescing, Nohem turns back to Bryn. "Your request is not quite clear to me, but I suppose it doesn't matter. As long as you remain in camp and contribute to our effort, we'll try to make sure the soldiers don't hurt you."

Once Bryn leaves the tent, nothing special happens. At least while he can still see the tent, nobody enters or leaves the tent, which might leave Bryn wondering how much Nohem's words are worth. In any case, disguised as an aged Elven woman and a bandit no less, Bryn sneaks around camp. He'll spot, from a distance, Arren and Lieutenant Tireur sitting not too far from the fire, but at some distance away from everyone else. Nobody seems to regard the Elven bandit he is disguised as, or perhaps they don't see her at all.

Eventually, without interruptions, Bryn reaches the soldiers' carriage and their tents. (OOC: Based on what you described to me, I assumed Bryn would be headed there first.) He has seen the two bodyguards by the fire before, but he doesn't see the Commandant anywhere around. Not in the carriage, not in either tent. An oil lantern illuminates the larger tent where Bryn rested just the other night, but he sees no silhouette suggesting anyone is inside. If he listens nearby, Bryn won't hear anything from either tent, and if he dares to open either, the Commandant isn't there.

If Bryn left anything in the larger tent, he may take it, but the cart is locked as usual and everything in it is currently not accessible.

The 'female elf' doesn't directly approach the carriage or tents, a little confused as to the whereabouts of the Commandant. For her to not be here, and also not in the company of the Lieutenant who he noticed over by the large fire seems a little odd.

Perhaps it is a good thing she is nowhere to be found. It gives me more time before she meets with Nohem.

Standing about 10-15 feet from the rear of the carriage, 'she' summons an invisible spectral hand, and with it retrieves a set of thieves' tools concealed on 'her' person.

After a last look around, 'she' moves the hand over to the carriage lockbox and attempts to pick the lock.

Bryn picks the lock open with his spectral hand. Nobody seems to be around, and the storage space at the back of the carriage is unlocked.

Bryn knows the hand isn't strong enough to lift all of his equipment. Not at once, anyway.

With the lock picked and no one in sight who has noticed, the 'female elf' closes the distance to the carriage. 'She' quickly opens the lock box, grabs the bag belonging to 'Tace', closes the lock box and moves on in as fluid a motion as possible.

'She' will then circle around to make sure no-one has noticed. If no-one has, 'she' will look to re-lock the lock box in a similar manner to unlocking it, with the invisible hand that had remained in place.

'She' then stows the lock picks and makes 'her' way back towards the tent with Nohem and Lann, avoiding the main fire so as not to be seen carrying the bag.

Bryn had no trouble picking the lock, opening the box, grabbing 'his' bag and proceeding onwards quickly after closing the lock. He looks to both sides and sees nobody around, then locks the box. No issues, it seems. He had done similar things before; he was an expert at this point.

Or so Bryn thought. Just as he stows the lock picks, before he has a chance to walk away, Bryn suddenly feels a sharp object pressing forcefully against his coat, at about the centre of his back. "Move without my permission or do anything suspicious, and this rapier will impale you. No! No turning your head. Keep looking forward. Keep your hands where I can see them. Keep what you stole with you, too. Just carry it along. Very slowly, we're going to march over to the fire over there. Okay? I won't hesitate to stab you if I even think you're trying something fishy. Now, slowly, WALK!"

The commanding presence behind Bryn sounds confident and bears a cold ruthlessness that convinces Bryn that, if she's bluffing - for the voice is certainly a woman's - she's doing so exceptionally well. If Bryn even slightly turns his head, the sharp object immediately presses more forcefully against his back. It doesn't seem to have pierced his coat yet, but that is far from ample protection. His leather armour might help, but it'd certainly be a gamble. Her strong Meyen accent betrays the Commandant's identity, but she otherwise sounds quite threatening. "I am really not in the mood for games right now. Don't test me."

The 'female elf' freezes as the rapier presses into 'her' back, listening intently to the words spoken directly behind 'her'.

How in the world did the Commandant get the drop on me in the dark like this? Have I lost my edge?

'She' spends a moment to think on the situation, hands as instructed up next to 'her' head in view of the Commandant behind, before making a risky decision. She can't have seen me properly, maybe a silhouette at best. And would she really execute one of her soldiers like a common thief?

"You have it wrong, Ma'am", comes the response in the voice of Tace Piete. At least the voice the Commandant has come to identify as Tace Piete. At the same time the magical disguise drops and he quickly flicks down the hood of the coat so the silhouette of the helmet can be clearly seen between the firelight. 

"I cannot steal what is already mine", 'Tace' continues, listening and feeling for any sign that the Commandant has faltered in her attention. If he feels the rapier relax even slightly, he will take a big step forward and turn, hands still up showing no signs of aggression. If not he will remain with his back to the Commandant for now.

"Perhaps this is best. You and I speaking alone. No need for bodyguards or bandits. Because I am not in the mood to play games either".

(OOC: If any mechanics can be brought in here, Bonus Action: Disengage and / or Action: Dodge unless this counts as surprised. Not sure what to roll for the relaxing of the rapier, if anything. Of course, also happy for this to be purely narrative if that suits better)

(OOC: You know, strangely, the Disguise Self doesn't mention any way one can end the spell early. RAW, it sticks for the entire hour, like it or not. I'm not going to enforce that, though, as it seems like a strange oversight. Just something I happened to notice now.)

Feeling the sharp object relaxing as the Commandant falters for a brief moment, Bryn flees from where he was standing. Turning back, he finds the Commandant standing shocked briefly. Rather than the rapier he once saw her carrying - when she met Emma - Commandant Nattensbarn holds a short stick, about 30 centimetres in length (~ a foot). It doesn't even look special in any way, just a stick that she found on the ground somewhere. Not nearly as sharp as a rapier, but here, Bryn's coat and leather armour worked against him, dulling the feel of the edge. Unlike the face she intended to show her subordinates a little later, here the Commandant was caught unprepared and, as such, did not properly wash the tears' trails from her slightly blushed face.

But after a brief moment, she comes back to her senses, discards the stick she was holding and flees behind the carriage to use it as cover. She is now perhaps 20 feet, at most, away from Bryn, over the carriage's corner, such that she's almost entirely out of sight. She stands there quietly for a few seconds, but if Bryn remains quiet, she'll call over to him: "You wanted to talk? Talk. If I hear you move anywhere, I will shout." Unlike before, she now sounds merely afraid. "The same goes for any strange words and incantations."

'Tace' does stand silently for a moment, processing the visage of the Commandant that had seemed so stern and authoritative to him. She has been crying. She really cares. Is this because we didn't come back by sunrise, or because of what I said? Or both. Or what the Sergeant told her, perhaps?

When she prompts him, he comes back to the present.

"Oh, yes. I do want to talk. But not like this. Not with you feeling the need to put a carriage between us. I wanted Nohem present because I felt exposed at the thought of you and the Sergeant and the Lieutenant all sitting across from me as I finally told the truth. That thought was intimidating. The Sergeant and the Lieutenant are intimidating. I don't want you to feel intimidated either", he says genuinely.

"If you give your word you will listen to what I have to say, that you will stay the hands of the Lieutenant and the Sergeant whilst I speak, and that no immediate ramifications will be brought to bare. If you agree to that, I will agree to them being present so we can do this face to face. But I must have your word, on your honour", he says, a little shocked at the offer he was making.

"And if you do agree, feel free to freshen up first. I am happy to sit in the tent and eat some rations, because I am starving and cold".

 If she agrees, he will go into the larger tent and sit down, tucking into some cold rations.

A few long moments pass before the Commandant finally answers. "I don't know who you are." A brief pause. "You want my word, and you claim you don't want me to be intimidated, but what have I to protect myself from your magic? I don't know what you're capable of, what your goals are." A longer pause. 

"I can give you my word that I will listen, and that I ask my soldiers to keep their cool if they don't see a direct threat to their safety or mine." She sounds hesitant, weighing every word carefully. "But I cannot give you my word that nothing will happen without knowing what you wish to say. And... before I am convinced you do not harbour ill will towards me, or my soldiers, I will not stand where you can see me. Even I know many spells only work if you see your target. And even if you aren't that powerful, you still have your weapons on you, and someone who stood face-to-face with Emma is plenty intimidating to me."

After a few more long moments, Commandant Nattensbarn tries to find an acceptable compromise. "If you take my word that you will be heard and that the Lieutenant and Sergeant both keep their weapons away, while you sit in the tent and we stay outside." A short pause. "And you leave your crossbow outside, too. If those terms seem acceptable to you, go ahead and eat in the tent. Otherwise, we will converse as we are now."

If Bryn accepts and enters the tent:

Bryn is quite taken aback by the Commandant's fear and mistrust. She is Meyen. Magic is beyond them and so they fear it. Much as I fear the firearm the lieutenant could use to end my life in a heartbeat. What am I trying to get out of this anyway?

He thinks of Kone Piete and Carmelo. Have they found the body of the real Tace Piete yet? Have his family been told what happened? They certainly won't be able to give them his personal effects, because I have them.

"If that is what it takes, then that is what it takes", he says and removes his crossbow and leaves it on the ground. The bolts he takes into the tent with him.

Whilst in the tent, he will go through the belongings in his pack and separate out those that belonged to Tace Piete into a neat pile, leaving just his own items packed away. He will add the helmet to the pile.

He then stops the flame in the oil lantern so as not to provide an easy silhouette target and has a bite to eat.

"He what?" Arren asks, incredulous. "I've never heard of a Katton soldier who wielded mag—"

The words die on his lips as the realisation strikes him. His expression hardens.

"Wait," he says slowly. "He was never a soldier, was he? We never had Tace Peite with us."

Anger flares. He stands abruptly, cursing under his breath as he takes a few steps away from the Commandant and the Lieutenant, forcing himself to breathe, to gather every shred of discipline he has left. After a moment, he exhales long and slow.

"I will keep my weapons sheathed," he mutters. "I gave my word. And I don’t intend to break it for anyone, least of all a lying cheat like… whoever he really is."

With that, Arren follows his superiors toward the tent, schooling his features into something neutral. With every step, his mind races. What do they even expect to find? What does he look like beneath that helmet? And what happened to the real Tace Peite?

Those thoughts vanish the moment they come face to face with the Elf waiting for them. Recognition hits immediately—the prisoner from the interrogation, the one present when the floor collapsed beneath them.

Arren studies him in silence for a heartbeat: black hair, amber eyes, a face still without a name. When he finally speaks, his voice is calm, controlled.

"Who are you?" he asks quietly. "Will you at least do us the honour of giving us your name?"

He pauses, then adds, colder now, "What happened to Tace Peite? And why were you in prison to begin with?"

Once in front of the tent, he waits for the Commandant to take the lead and address his former companion.

 Arren's declaration is a little inaccurate. He has heard of Katton soldiers who wielded limited magical abilities before, but there's no denying they are exceedingly rare to come by. What more, one wouldn't find them in a position like the real Tace's, unless they hide it. But given everything, even if not perfectly accurate, Arren's response is justified. 

The Commandant is a little concerned with Arren's uncharacteristic flaring, exchanging looks with the Lieutenant, who currently looks part confused, part curious. But if is an unusual situation, and nobody can blame Arren for losing his cool for a moment. Surely not the Commandant, and Arren's promise to rein himself seems to satisfy her enough.

As they approach the tent, when the Commandant notices the light was extinguished and she can no longer see whether Bryn is inside, she stops. "I hope you're still in that tent!" She calls. She then asks the Lieutenant if he sees the crossbow where it was left, and the Drow confirms it is still there. Arren sees it too, laying on the ground where Bryn left it.

Assuming Bryn answers positively, the Commandant hesitantly approaches the tent, until she's a few metres away (10 feet) from its side, such that Bryn cannot see her from within. "We're here. The Lieutenant and the Sergeant will keep their cool if you do not make any hostile action. You have my word on that. Now, speak!"

Bryn does reply to the Lieutenant with a simple, "I am here". Just loud enough to be heard over the wind.

"Let me first address your expectations. I will tell the truth, whether you choose to believe me or not is up to you. But I will not be telling you everything about me, and so there will be times I will simply tell you that I will not answer that. To keep it simple, let's just say I will focus on Tus Prison and things that have occurred since then", he explains.

"I will in no way try to harm you. And I will not respond to aggression or anger, even though I understand you are likely to feel those things. Commandant, if you break your word in any way, you will get nothing more from me. I don't have to do this, I am choosing to do this", he adds.

"The first thing I expect you are wondering, is if I am Tace Piete", he pauses for a few seconds. "I am not. Tace Piete was the unfortunate victim of the earthquake at Tus Prison. I had nothing to do with his demise, although I took advantage of the opportunity it presented", he says with genuine regret, and at this moment he pauses for reaction.

As the truth of Tace Peite's fate settles in, Arren can only shake his head, a quiet sadness crossing his face.

"So he's been dead for weeks," he says grimly. "And his family knows nothing." He exhales slowly, then adds, turning slightly toward the Commandant, "We should see to that soon, ma'am. They have a right to know."

After that, the Sergeant falls silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. When he speaks again, his voice is steadier. Controlled, but no warmer.

"I gave my word, and I have no intention of breaking it. That hasn't changed." His gaze fixes on the tent. "That said, I can't say I'll ever trust yours again. But frankly, it would be foolish of you to try to harm us when the odds are against you."

He pauses, then continues, firmer now.

"I'll ask this: can we speak face to face? We've been talking to a helmet for weeks, and I'm sick of it. I want to know who we're addressing. And it would be useful to know what to call you—since neither Corporal nor Tace ever truly existed among us."

He gives the man inside the tent time to respond. Then, without softening his tone, Arren asks again.

"So you were an inmate of Tus Prison. For what reason?"

"Please, Sergeant, do not think that I made this deal with the Commandant due to having a weak position. As I said, I am in here out of choice", Bryn replies. "And it was the Commandant who insisted that we do not do this face to face. Although I will say that you are right, I was an inmate of Tus Prison. I was accused of using counterfeit currency.".

He says no more, assuming that the Commandant will have more insight to add, and likely a name.