-----The four humans were fodder, irrelevant. It was the Dwarf. Whisper had to ensure that escape was impossible.
-----Calm. No turmoil. In his mind, he was looking up at a blue sky. Leaves were rustling, whispering, in the light breeze. Calm.
-----Smoothly, the bow came up, and he drew the fletching to his cheek. Calmly, coldly, Whisper released, his hand blurring to his quiver for a second arrow before the other had even fully left the bowstring.
-----The first arrow flies and hits its mark! The dwarf immediately screams out in surprise! The second arrow flies and thuds into the hard packed floor of the stable.
-----“Me foot! Me foot!” the dwarf yells painfully as he kneels down grabbing at the arrow shaft quivering in his impaled boot. The pony next to the dwarf begins to stamp and whinny.
-----As Whisper draws his next arrow, he hears startled scrambling from the out of sight humans. With a breath, he lets the arrow go toward the small steed, but the pony twists and slightly lifts its feet. The arrow strikes the pony’s flank solidly, but miraculously it does little other than to scratch the beast. The tip of the arrow barely pierces the animal’s hide and the shaft of the arrow swings wildly about. The final effect, however, is the pony bolts toward the far end of the stables where it continues to buck and whinny.
-----Whisper, at this point, does not catch sight of one of the humans and it could be that they are taking defensive stances below.
-----With an agonized grunt, the dwarf pulls his impaled boot from the floor though the missile is still wedged though his boot. He limps painfully toward where the humans were seen yelling, “I been shot!”
-----Unfortunately, the noise from the pony makes it hard to detect exactly what is going on below.
-----Keeping an arrow nocked, Whisper moved back towards the ladder.
-----He was half expecting one of the humans to be already climbing, but even if they weren't ascending, he might get a better view of what was going on below.
-----Lightning flashes from outside sending strange shadows against the walls as Whisper moves beside the top of the ladder.
-----Suddenly one of the men from below yells frantically, “Something’s up there!” This is followed by scrambling sounds as the humans hurry out the door into the storm.
-----“Dammit! Wait!” the gruff pain-filled voice of the dwarf calls as he tries to pant after them. The dwarf is alone for the moment!
-----Raising bow to cheek, Whisper took aim for the Dwarf's uninjured leg, intending the arrow for the knee to fully cripple his prey. Blue eyes narrowed, and he loosed the shot.
-----Nocking another arrow, Whisper raised his voice as much as he was able. "Surrender." The humidity helped some, but he still felt a slight tickle at the back of his throat.
-----Calm.
-----So very close.
-----The first arrow thudded into the hard packed ground beside the dwarf who flinched at its sudden appearance.
-----As Whisper gave his command to surrender, the dwarf quickly raised his arms saying, “I give up!”
-----Calm.
-----His hand itched to grasp at the sealed quiver, to draw forth one of the arrows, and to send it into the heart of the Dwarf below. And the dagger seemed to pull at him, drag at him.
-----Swallowing to ease the tickle at the back of his throat, Whisper once again spoke out. "Weapons. Armour... off." Another swallow. Then he waited, arrow nocked, and half drawn. The point not wavering under the strain of his pull. Waited until the Dwarf had complied.
-----"Move..." Whisper had to pause; "... centre. Lie... face down."
-----The dwarf seemed to hesitate and remain quiet for a moment. “Can’t we talk about this?” he suddenly asks. “Ye can see I ain’t one o’ th’ hobgoblins n’ I may have th’ means t’bargain wi’ ye.”
-----He continues to stand where he is, listening for a response from the shadows above.
-----Whisper smoothly drew the bow the rest of the way, and sent the arrow down in front of the Dwarf.
-----"Now."
-----The dwarf winces as he steps back from the quick appearance of the arrow in front of him. A pained sound escapes him dealing from the arrow that still impales his foot.
-----“Okay, okay,” he utters defeatedly as he starts to yank at his leather and drops two daggers to the ground. He then slowly removes his leather jerkin and pulls off leggings before easing himself painfully to the hard packed floor.
-----He then positions himself on the floor facedown. By now the pony at the far end of the stable has settled down somewhat and the storm outside has slackened.