Robust Shield of Mental Fortitude

A bandit breaks away from the huddle of his cohorts, his features contorted into a sneer as he strides forward with a confidence born of lawlessness. "You, medicine peddler, how dare you disregard our presence?" His voice slices through the tension-heavy air, his challenge emphasized by the wide swing of his sword. "Do you choose to be blind to our presence?"

The bald bandit leader raises his hand, signaling a pause, his voice rolling over the clearing like distant thunder. "Just let him be there," he commands with a dismissive flick of his wrist.

"Why?" The question from one of his followers is tinged with confusion and a burgeoning greed, eyes flitting towards the prone peddler.