-----In the next few moments, some of the hobgoblins were slowed by small things darting through the air. Whisper caught the gleam of arrows flying toward the soldiers. Two more seemed to stand alongside Raven and the elf reasoned that these must be Pil and Strolum. As the soldiers paused it looked as though Whisper’s companions were retreating from the gate area!
-----Underneath the cover of the thistledown scarf, Whisper grimaced. Helping his companions could well give him away entirely, unless he was very, very careful. And he would need at least semi steady footing.
-----Whisper climbs on up to the roof past a second story window. For a moment, he peers in. There, he sees a few forms huddled together. Then he realizes that there are people within this second story room tied up and bound with rope. More prisoners of the hobgoblins!
-----Whisper then gains the roof and takes a quick position so that he is facing the gate, but is yet concealed by the rooftop peak. Out there he can still see some fighting occurring between his companions and a few of the guards. The main bulk of the other hobgoblin soldiery is still rushing toward their position.
-----Whisper notches his arrow, takes very careful aim and lets it fly! The firetrap arrow soars up above, seems to hang in the air momentarily and then makes its drop toward the ground. For a moment, Whisper loses sight of it in the glare, but in the next few moments, its effect is revealed.
-----Within the collection of rushing humanoids, a small explosion occurs and Whisper can see three or four hobgoblins fall from the flame that erupts. The surrounding hobgoblins scatter but seem to concentrate their advance toward the gate.
-----Whisper's expression turned bleak. He could rain down his remaining Firetrap arrows, and then expend his last arrows. And then he'd be sitting in the middle of an occupied village, with the Hobgoblins probably having a good indication of where he was.
-----The Elf reslung his bow. His companions would need to find a way out of this by themselves, for now. Turning back, he carefully made his way back to the edge of the roof. Time to get a few better ideas about what was in this Inn. And the room with captives seemed like the place to start.
-----Whisper slips over the roof edge and lowers himself almost spider like close to one of the windows on the second story. He reaches over and finds that it is very easy to dislodge the catch on the window and push the shutters out of his way to enter. As he peers in, he waits as his eyes try to adjust to the darkness within while trying to ignore or avoid the background glare from the bonfires in the village.
-----He then discerns that no guards are inside the room. As smoothly as he can, Whisper slips inside the room. He hears a few gasps and notices that almost a dozen prisoners sit bound along the walls. A few look at him; staring fearfully but silently in his direction. On the far wall, he sees a dim light coming around the edges of a door that leads out supposedly into the hallway.
-----Slowly, Whisper's left hand came up and touched his lips through the cloth of his thistledown scarf. Allowing a very soft "Shhhhh;" to escape his lips, the Woodelf moved forward as carefully as he would in a forest, his eyes searching out whichever of the captives seemed the calmest and most collected.
-----He sees an old human among the captives. Where some of the other prisoners flinch and show unease at Whisper’s intrusion, the old man looks at the Wood Elf with expressions of curiosity and intelligence.
-----Whisper remembered the last 'old man' with rather too much vividness for comfort. He almost grimaced again, but shook the feeling off.
-----Still, he moved forward smoothly, and then went into a crouch beside the old man. The Elf leant forward, so as to put his face right next to the old man's ear.
-----"Grandfather," Whisper whispered further masking his voice, quiet though it was, with a cupped hand; "How many guard you here? Is this where their leaders have gathered? And is there a Dwarf amongst them?"
-----“Ye be either’n a fool t’sneak in here or one o’ them n’ tryin’ t’trick me t’get me throat sliced,” the old man hissed. Luckily he kept his voice low, which proved a good sign. After a moment, the old man seemed to relent and answered, “Seems like we always have a goblin trollin’ outside this here door in the hall. As fer leaders, I’m a’guessin’ there be leaders all round this village, even down by the river. Yeah, n’ I be a’seein’ a few dwarves. Probably the gold from the river be attractin’ a few o’ their kind.”
-----He kept his eyes on Whisper’s hidden features with a stern look.
-----A bitter taste flashed through his mouth.
-----"Even fools have been known to get lucky, and grow old, Grandfather." Whisper looked towards the door. "Perhaps you noticed a singular Dwarf, in the company of Orcs and others. A warband." The Elf considered. "Also, are there any more like you in this inn, and is there a storeroom?"
-----A plan started to form in Whisper's mind. The only problem was the barn full of prisoners...