Tarland woke from his most recent dream rather suddenly, his heart pounding still though his mind had already moved on to his surroundings. While he wasn't sure what he had been dreaming about, there was something he was acutely aware of, this was not where he'd gone to sleep. That much was obvious, despite his eyes still being closed, the mattress had far too much give, the room was unseasonably warm, and he didn't sleep under covers, or without his armor. At this point, he began to reach for his blade, his heart skipped a beat when he didn't find it, then he scolded himself, of course the blade wasn't where he left it, he wasn't where he left himself. He decided against getting up for the moment, opting instead, to listen with trained ears, who among these as of yet disembodied voices was privy to the situation.

Spoiler: How quiet is he being?
Show
Stealth=(1d20+4)[11]