Robin ducked flying splinters as a nearby patron smashed a chair over the head of a guard. The tavern was in a full-on melee. Basgar’s men had blocked the windows and doors, but the rebels had mounted a stiff resistance, and Basgar and Gis were struggling to get enough men into the actual space to effectively subdue it.
Avanus had shouted something that had sounded like a standing order. The rebels certainly seemed organised. People were rushing to turn tables and chairs into a barricade across the main doors that the tyrant’s forces were using to gain entry to The Bell and Boar.
Robin crouched down next to the fireplace, taking partial cover behind the old stones. Keeping one eye on the action, he willed open his interface and quickly made the selections he’d been thinking about since he’d first discovered he’d have to wait to make all of his level choices. One of these new abilities might make all the difference.
A dagger slammed into the wall next to his ear with a thunk.
If he lived long enough to make use of them, that is.
Robin quickly selected [Minor Enchanted Slumber] for his remaining Tier 1 spell. An [Invisible Servant], tempting as it was, was unlikely to be much use in this melee. He had two remaining cantrip slots open and he quickly filled them with [Minor Repair] and [Lesser Charm]. He might need to talk his way past some angry guards soon and he wanted all the boost he could get.
His progress had budged him into Tier 1 proper, and his completion of the quest had unlocked another peculiarity slot. Robin quickly filled it with [Initiate of the Craft], an option made available by his extensive real-world knowledge of witchcraft and pagan practices. Here, that translated to an extra Tier 1 spell and two more cantrips, [Familiar Bond] and [Lesser Nightmare Curse] and [Lesser Witch Bolt], respectively.
Robin slammed his interface closed as a chair sailed over his head to crash against the wall. He rolled out of the way just in time and flung a [Lesser Nightmare Curse] at the nearest guard.
The man gaped as a flash of nameless and shapeless fear froze his gullet. That moment of horror would stick with him for several seconds and make it much harder for him to resist the next negative effect he encountered in that timeframe.
So Robin followed it up with [Cutting Words].
‘Is your sword as dull as your wits or do you just not know how to use a whetstone?’
The guard purpled with rage and dropped like a stone.
‘Robin!’ Lantha shouted from a half-dozen paces away. ‘Get over here!’
He stepped into the melee. The fighting was fierce, though the rebels were holding their own; they had the defensive advantage for now. That would change as the fight dragged on and the tyrant’s forces were able to replenish themselves from outside as the defenders remained pinned down.
Robin noticed Avanus laying about himself with a broken bottle, occasionally sending bolts of purple-black force lancing out to strike the guards. The warlock was directing a group of rebels trying to retake a section of wall near the bar. The guards had seized that area early on in their attack. Robin had no idea why the warlock wanted it back so badly. Maybe a hidden escape route?
He saw Prorna working with Brawnhilde and a group of militia absolutely hammering a group of guardsmen. Guilera, the merchant leader, stood at the back of the room, flanked by two bodyguards, not doing battle directly, but she’d opened her pack and was passing out weapons and supplies to the other rebels. And Ora-Jean!
Sulara and a couple of her gang kids were running those supplies to the men manning the makeshift barricades, while Dahn, Cor’Leon’s replacement, was shouting hair-raising threats to motivate the defenders at the barricade. It was unclear if several of the men near him were more afraid of the guards or more afraid of their leader.
Robin conjured playing cards and sailed them through the gaps in the barricade to force the attackers to flinch. He was tempted to experiment with [Lesser Witch Bolt] but the description mentioned ‘otherworldly fire’ and he didn’t want to risk setting one. The last thing they needed as part of this fight was an inferno to deal with as well.
He dodged a blade thrust through the barricade and ducked down behind the upturned table next to Lantha. The rogue was absently stabbing through the barricade whenever an attack got careless, but her main attention was on the overall battle.
‘They’re doing well, aren’t they?’ she observed as Robin arrived.
‘Who?’
‘The rebels and their leaders. Well coordinated. Had a plan in case something like this happened. Avanus made sure there were additional ways out that only he knew about—he didn’t even tell us. Smart.’
‘Is that why he’s so interested in retaking the bar?’
‘Yes. Though the escape tunnel runs the length of the tavern.’
‘That won’t help if we can’t chop through several feet of oak floorboards and foundation beams,’ Grathilde snapped from the other side of the elf, where the aeromancer was flicking sparks at the attackers.
‘Ora-Jean is solving that problem as we speak.’ Lantha glanced across the room. ‘And Fiamah has her back. They’ll be in position soon. Robin, we’re going to need the mother of all distractions soon. Think you can cook something up?’
‘Ah, of course, but what am I distracting people from? That’s kind of a key bit of need-to-know knowledge there. You can’t trick someone into looking away from something important if you don’t know where you want the mark to look away from.’ Robin winced as an axe blade buried itself in the table he was crouched behind.
‘We’ve figured out a way to get everyone into the escape tunnel beneath the tavern, but it’ll take time to get most of our people out, and we need Basgar and Gis distracted so they don’t interfere. It’ll be a fighting retreat no matter how we do it, but the bigger the head start we can manage on getting out, the better.’
‘Yes, I figured that much out,’ Robin gestured. ‘Just tell me what and where so I can do my thing! There’s a battle happening, in case you hadn’t noticed!’
‘Oh? Is there?’ Lantha casually stabbed a woman through the hand. The guard had gotten too close to a gap in the barrier. ‘Guilera has a couple bottled holes. We’re going to use them to make a temporary hole in the floor, rush our people out, then defend until the magic wears off and the floor reappears, covering our retreat. We need that point there out of sight,’ she pointed, ‘or Basgar and Gis looking so far away they don’t notice we’re leaving until it’s too late. Got it?’
‘Got it.’ Robin knew he’d be one of the last, if not the last one out, so he checked alternate escape routes before picking the best spot from which to conduct his distraction. ‘Give me a couple of minutes to get something set up. Your signal will be, I dunno, something blue.’
Robin thought furiously. Obviously, he could block line of sight with an illusion, but if it was discovered too soon, it would be easy for the guards to test it repeatedly and see through it. So he needed a distraction and an illusion.
‘I don’t suppose you have some smoke bombs?’ he asked the rogue.
‘They’re coming out of your cut,’ Lantha said as she passed him two.
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‘Gotcha.’ Robin pocketed the incendiaries carefully.
Why he bothered to be careful, he wasn’t certain. He was about to do something titanically stupid anyway.
If Lantha wanted Basgar and Gis looking away from the centre of the room, the best place to focus their attention was in their own midst. Thankfully, he had a ready-made conversation piece right there: Lena.
Robin glanced through the barricade. There. That spot would do.
He invoked [Visual Phantasm] and began working his hands through the gestures of [Lesser Phantasm]. An illusion of his Marq persona appeared with a flamboyant gesture and a loud crack.
‘Basgar! Gis! You old devils! How dare you drop by without letting us know you were coming! If you had, we would have prepared you a much warmer welcome!’ Marq smiled and napalm glimmered in his eyes. ‘And Lena! Naughty girl! You knew and didn’t tell any of us?’
Three daggers, two swords, and an axe all phased right through him to thunk into the barricade behind.
‘Well, that’s hardly polite,’ Marq sniffed.
‘It’s an illusion you idiots!’ Basgar snapped.
‘Exactly right, Bassy old bean!’ Obnoxiously posh would probably annoy the pants off the tyrant, so Robin went with that. ‘That one knew!’ The illusion pointed at Lena. ‘You’d best watch her! And your pockets! She’ll bleed you dry.’
Now to see just how far they trusted her.
‘Which we appreciate, of course.’ Marq smiled broadly. ‘Thank you ever so much for your generous donations to the cause, Lena!’
Judging by the way Basgar and Gis immediately turned to glare suspiciously at Lena, they trusted her about as far as Robin could chuck the Keep.
‘He’s obviously lying!’ Lena snapped.
‘Careful,’ Marq called, ‘she blows a lot of smoke!’
The illusion snapped its fingers and Robin used [Lesser Phantasm] to conjure a brief, bright-blue plume of smoke around Lena.
Gis and Basgar immediately drew back and pointed their weapons at the other bard. Lena hissed in annoyance and blurred herself in defence. It was clear neither trusted the other over there.
Robin popped the top off the first smoke bomb and rolled it through a gap in the barricade. Soon, grey-blue smoke started filling the air around the tyrant’s postion.
‘I told you!’ Lena shouted.
Robin let the illusion of Marq vanish in the confusion and instead used his illusion spells to conjure the sound of more smoke bombs hissing and a cloud of the stuff, which swiftly expanded to cut off the back of the tavern from view.
The invaders were coughing on the smoke from the real bomb and not questioning the appearance of more. If they didn’t question it, they wouldn’t see through the illusion. Behind him, Robin could hear Lantha calling out quietly. He risked a glance.
There was a massive hole in the centre of the floor that hadn’t been there a minute ago. As he watched, Prorna jumped nimbly down, followed swiftly by Guilera, lowered gently down by her bodyguards.
The escape was well under way. Robin and those stationed at the barricade just needed to keep Basgar and his bully-boys busy long enough for everyone to get out, then they could withdraw themselves.
Hopefully before that hole closed magically on its own.
And now that Basgar was hidden from view from most of his troops by that very real smokescreen, time to sow a little more chaos. Robin twisted his hands through [Lesser Phantasm] once more, this time tuning it to match Basgar’s voice and delivery.
‘Fall back! Get out of the smoke! Out of the tavern! Secure the perimeter instead!’
And the thing is, tyrants instill blind loyalty in those that survive their service. Most of Basgar’s men, hearing that order, in that voice, immediately began to pull back. Those that didn’t were almost immediately overwhelmed by the remaining rebels on the barricade and cut down.
The command really should have established some form of code-word system. They had to know they were going up against an illusionist, right? Gis certainly should have known better.
But Gis clearly wasn’t giving the orders.
‘Get me an aeromancer!’ Basgar roared. ‘Clear out this smoke!’
At least he didn’t order an immediate return to attacking the barricade. Robin grinned. Arrogant, that’s what it was. Assuming he controlled the whole of the battlefield.
Robin jerked his chin at the rebels left manning the barricade. The rest of the tavern was nearly empty. They might as well retreat now and slip through the hole while Basgar was waiting on his aeromancer. Robin could bring up the rear and make sure to keep the exit covered with illusions.
Any luck and they’d all be out and the hole vanished before Basgar and his men could charge forward and figure out what happened.
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