Draylin 

"I do enjoy a challenge, but I think we'll try the keys first," he says in a pitiful attempt at ill timed humor.

"Montar, care to join me in the chaos?  We can move toward the prisoner and get ready to swap them in the frenzy of kobold madness.  Can anyone magic up some fire or something to help cover our eacape?"

Draylin secures the lock picks in his pouch but keeps the keys hanging from his belt in easy reach.  If the plan is acceptable he will begin to move closer to the prisoner, but not marching boldly down the lane, just working a but closer and to the side.  He wants to be carried in by the surge of monsters, not trampled by them.

 Montar shrugs. "Seems as good a plan as any." He hefts the body to rest more solidly on his shoulder, ready to exchange bodies in a hurry when the distraction begins. 

Thistlewick speaks up after hearing all the comments.

"Montar, if it will help, I can create a very simple, minor illusion >>  Minor Illusion   <<  which might be enough to cover you while you swap bodies on the post.  It won't last long and it is VERY simple but..."

Amadeus needs only a moment to peer into the tent. As soon as he has confirmed the presence of weapons, he plots out his course back to the others, if he can locate them. Plenty to tell, both opportunities and potential enemy information. It could all be moot if the team were to escape in haste, but at the very least the impending raid on Greenest is reason enough to reunite with the others.

His independent foray is through. It's now time to find the rest. 

While the rest of the party ponders what to do about the mysterious prisoner, Amadeus peeks into the tent. One side is lined with crude wooden racks holding various weapons; the other is cluttered with piles of salvaged armour.

In the dim light, two gnomes are visible, chained to heavy iron hooks driven into the ground. A male gnome is rhythmically polishing a breastplate, while a female gnome is hunched over, sewing patches into a sheet of leather.

[Amadeus, once you’ve finished your observations here, you can slip back towards the loot tent to regroup with the others.]

Montar nods to Thistlewick. "That be a good idea, friend. Perhaps a simple illusion that copies the view o' the prisoner they expect ta see? Then we can switch bodies behind the illusion."

Draylin 

"Who is gonna poke the hornets' nest?" he paused to ask.  A horde of wound up kobolds making big noise to impress wyrmspraker was a key part of the plan, he thought to himself. 

"I can try," Tam said. She did not sound very confident.

The singular gnome's trek back to the trinkets and loot tent is, with hope, uneventful. He settles therein and waits. Plenty to tell, alot to mention. He doesn't hide the urgency in his face when he sees his first compatriot. 

"I have information to deliver to everyone. We must hurry in our escape, as it seems time is against us! Where're the others?"

"We're all here, and we have this body to swap for the monk. We want to make a distraction to cover the switcheroo. I was going to try to convince some kobolds to make a bunch of noise."

He rears back slowly and takes a seat upon one of the smaller mounds. Hands on his knees, the gnome gives a full report.

"Well, first off, I ran into a supply wagon. Likely local hunters, but unaffiliated with whatever is happening here. It may be worth figuring out who they are in the future." He pulls a handkerchief from the pile and wipes his brow, then continues. "The hunters were unloading piles of meat, and one of the brigands mentioned feeding Drakes, whatever they may be. The area was loosely guarded, so it might serve as an auxiliary means to escape, if your primary plan falls flat- er, no offense."

Upon his looking up, the others will notice Amadeus' expression turned to one of graven urgency. 

"...All of which pales to the most taxing concern - this troupe plans to strike again tonight. They will hit Greenest very soon."

"The distraction is to rescue the monk. But I wonder if we could stow away on the supply wagon..."

"There's a chance the wagon is still about - 'twas quite a haul of meat. Our weapons are within view of it, as well. A large tent with a ragged flag aloft. If you seek Kobolds, there were several scrounging about nearby. Also some fellows in chains therein."

Draylin

The vague, gnawing sense of urgency now had a name, Greenest. "We must move with haste.  We can return with help to deal with this camp if we survive.  Should we fall, or end up back in shackles, Greenest will be overwhelmed.  Should ye fall, take Kelemvor a tale worth telling."  With a respectful bow to the group, he turns and begins to work his way nonchalantly closer to the prisoner for a better look.

Montar looks grim. "Aye. We need ta git ta Greenest as soon as we can. But not without the monk. Now would be a good time fer the illusion, friend."

Tam looks around. Any group of 3 or more kobolds will do, but it should be a group of just kobolds. 

Draylin gets close enough to take a proper look. The guard, a human male in medium armour with a scimitar at his side, stands about ten feet in front of the prisoner. He is not particularly alert as he keeps glancing back towards the main camp, shifting his weight and adjusting his gear like a man impatiently waiting for something.

But the prisoner... as Draylin's eyes fall on the slumped figure against the rock, something twists in his gut. The half-elf man in front of him is badly beaten, his face swollen... and yet there is something remarkably familiar about him. As if sensing Draylin's gaze, the prisoner lifts his head. In a moment, his one good eye goes wide. Suddenly, the phantom sound of a creaking cart-wheel fills Draylin's mind, and his temple throbs with the memory of a heavy blow. He knows this man. And in that flash of recognition, it's clear that the prisoner knows him, too.

Tam sees the smaller figures of kobolds clustering about 100 feet away, where Amadeus mentioned to be the hunters' wagon. Interestingly, the area around the loot tent seems to be almost entirely deserted with the vast majority of raiders now crowding near the entrance of the camp too, probably also drawn by the prospect of fresh meat for breakfast.

All that remains is the heavy-duty elite guards stationed firmly around the grand tent.

Draylin

The moment of shock passed like a flash across his face.  In a heartbeat his years of training and strict discipline took over.  His face was set back in the scowl that fit so well in the camp of raiders.  

Although composed in appearance,  the young monk's heart pounded in his chest.  The man chained to the post, the special prisoner, was Leosin, Brother of the Endless Sleep, and his mentor.  He glanced back, readying himself to spring into action when the time was right.  

When the kobolds begin to run wild Draylin watches the guard closely.  Hopefully he moves with haste towards the grand tent,  if not he would need to be delt with quickly.

Tam goes up to the group of kobolds and says in Draconic, “Hey, did you hear the Wyrmspeaker has a special prize for the first 10 kobolds to make it to the camp entrance! They said to scream your best battle cry as you go. Pass it along!”

Draylin

Seeing Tam get to work, Draylin's emotions betrayed his resolve.  The sight of Leosin beaten and bound proved too much.  The man who pulled him out of the gutter and gave him a chance to be more lay but yards away.

His eyes a mix of manic determination and guilt at his inability to be patient, he glances to Montar, flashing him a low sign to move forward with him.  "Play along, and dump her by the prisoner."  He could only hope that the dwarf would back his play.  He learned to lie when he had to, years ago, in another life...  

Walking boldly towards the guard, Draylin gave him the salute that he saw other raiders give before saying, "Best be get'n tu da meat cart.  Durned kobolds er fer swarmin' it like rats.  Get yer arse back quick, dis ones fer a different meat cart when yer belly's full." He nods to Leosin's replacement with a look of menace and wicked delight.

***deception: 14 - with ADV if Montar helps: 17 ***