-----The Wood Elf stared down at the now prostate Dwarf. Cold blue eyes flickered to one bales of hay nearest the edge above the Dwarf, and he calculated the odds of knocking his prisoner unconscious by dropping that bale.
-----Moving quickly, Whisper tensed and began to bodily shove the bale forward.
-----The bale dropped quietly and with a sickening thud hit the prone dwarf on the back of his head and shoulders. The dwarf convulsed and he screamed from under the hay bale, “Me nose! Me nose!” He continued to kick with his one good foot while his upper body was hidden by the hay.
-----Whisper cocked his head to the side. Good enough.
-----He stepped up to the edge, and then in one fluid motion squatted down, got hold of the edge with his right hand, and slid over himself to hang by one arm before letting go to drop down to the ground.
-----Whisper landed smoothly on the floor of the stable just a few feet away from the squirming dwarf. The elf’s prey knocked the hay bale off of him with his elbows while still fumbling with his nose with his hands.
-----Blood continued to drip from the boot with the arrow sticking out of it. It was a clean shot with the arrow protruding just about an inch through the sole.
-----Whisper took a moment to look around for spare horse harnesses... Bridles. He corrected himself mentally. Or some rope... or that sturdy twine on the bale of hay.
-----Shouldering his bow, he drew the dagger. It still felt heavier than it should.
-----Whisper saw some horse bridles around the stalls. As he continued to look, he did not see any rope, but the twine was still holding on the bale that he dropped on the dwarf.
-----Whisper set about gathering some of the bridles, casting occasional glances at the Dwarf writhing on the floor, the dark dagger heavy in his hand.
-----Then he walked over, standing just out of reach of his captive. “Quiet down. Hands behind back.” Whisper said quietly, but distinctly. “No questions.”
-----The dwarf did as he was told and very quickly Whisper had his hands tied. Only when Whisper began tying his legs did the dwarf squirm nervously. He grunted, but it became apparent that part of it was from the painful wound he was suffering from his arrow impaled foot.
-----Now Whisper grabbed him up and dragged him to a nearby support beam situated between two stalls. With a flash of lightning, Whisper could see the dwarf staring at him with an uncertain expression.
-----Whisper left his head obscured by hood and scarf. Although the urge to reveal himself, and obtain the answers he sought was strong, the Dwarf had said that he had information.
-----He did not precisely owe any of his companions, but he had played for some of them. His grip on the dagger tightened momentarily, then he sheathed it again.
-----Walking calmly back to the bale of hay, he dragged it closer to the Dwarf, and then placed his bow and satchel on top of it. Another walk back to where the Dwarf had initially lain, and he returned with the two daggers, which he left beside the satchel.
-----Then he finally returned his attention to his captive. Whisper went into an easy squat, elbows resting on his legs.
-----"With what do you wish to bargain?" Whisper asked quietly.
-----An odd frown crosses the dwarf’s face and his eyes flick around taking in the surroundings. He narrows his eyes as he refocuses on the disguised one in front of him and says, “Gold?! I know where th’ orcs keep th’ gold they get outta th’ river!”
-----Whisper almost sneered beneath his obscuring scarf. He reached out with his right hand, letting his fingers rest lightly on the shaft of the impaling arrow.
-----"Try again."
-----The dwarf gulps nervously and stares unbelievably at the figure before him. “Gold not t’be in what yer interested in?” he asks.
-----A little more meekly, the dwarf then says, “P’haps ye tell me what ye want.”
-----Whisper remained calm, despite the contempt that now flooded through him. It was an effort not to make the Dwarf feel pain. An effort not share remembered torment.
-----His hand remained steady.
-----"Talk, and I will decide, Dwarf." Quiet and calm.
-----“Talk?” the dwarf asks, before shrugging. “I ain’t one fer much talk. I do a lot of work fer hire. Me n’ me axe that is. Got hired on wit’ me company t’come here n’ help wrangle th’ troops th’ Lord o’ Ravenhold put here n’ all. Just a grunt I am.”
-----The dwarf looks at Whisper from under his eyebrows to see how his captor reacts to this info.
-----Calm. Dead calm. Whisper took his hand away from the arrow.
-----"Who is your company? Where are they now?"