When the gnome ducks into the supply tent, the others are already there. "Marvelous." He doesn't skip a beat. He would readily admit, he'd taken the long route. All the better to get a good view of their situation. Almost immediately, he rummages past the others, searching for his supply satchel. "It would appear... we have... a bit of... decision making... to commit to." Gems and clothes, leather and shoes, Amadeus sifts through the stolen plunder, his mind focused keenly on his own quarry.

As he looks, he recounts what he witnessed from the shadows: the landscape around the camp, the mysterious caverns, the gaudy tent set apart from the others, and the sheer size of the faction. "We appear to face a chokepoint, enough that the longer we might linger, the lesser our chances of escaping proper becomes. Ah!" The young lord stifles himself from exasperating a cry of relief as he at last finds his satchel. He checks inside, ensures both his missive and gold are intact, then turns to the others.

"Now then, who's this?"

Montar looks to Thistlewick with gratitude for his healing of the woman. When he's sure she's okay, he goes off to gather his gear. He also grabs the chains in case they might be of use later in some new form.

The woman is quite overwhelmed again with emotion because of your help and words, and it takes her a while to compose herself again as she is thanking you all again and again.
"I'm Ann," she manages eventually. "I don't know much about the special prisoner. I heard some raiders saying that he's a monk and they keep him tied at the back of the camp 'til he breaks. Us, normal prisoners, they keep tied in a tent close to the entrance of the camp at night and we work 'round the camp during the day."

Draylin 

"Lady Ann, can you tell us anything more about who or what guards the monk, and if you have overhead anything about the next move for this collection of masked thieves?"

Montar listens closely while retrieving the rest of his gear (other than weapons and armor).

Seems like Ann didn't have the chance last night to begin sorting through the loot, so you all find your gear without anything missing. Montar can add the chain to his backpack too.

Ann thinks for a moment. "Well, ain't nobody guarding the rest of us during the day. Maybe he won' be guarded too? But I ain't sure, I've never seen the man myself."

Montar secures his goods on his person, puts the chain in the backpack, and addresses the group. "Seems like a plan. We do like Draylin says and pretend ta be guards, round up the prisoners 'n our gear, 'n get. Anyone questions us, we make that hand gesture. Then make haste ta Greenest ta warn 'em. "

As you struggle to settle on a plan, faint morning light bleeds into the tent through the cracks. Dawn is here. Outside, the low rumble of voices and bootsteps grows.

Ann wrings her hands, her fingers trembling as she looks from one of you to the next.
"W-what should I do?" she whispers. "Should I stay here? They know my face well. If they find me wanderin' about they'll think I'm slackin' again. I… I ain't got anywhere else to go."

She swallows hard, eyes wide and pleading and adds, "Just… tell me where to be, and I'll do it."

Montar looks at his new companions and seems to decide something. "Okay, Ann. I want ye to stay here fer now 'n pretend ta continue doin' yer job. Find a cloak 'n cover up yer face while ye do. Come out either when we come get ye, or when ye hear a big commotion. If the commotion one, then sneak out of camp 'n make yer way ta Greenest, and we'll try ta find ye there. But we'll try not ta  make a commotion, okay?"

Turning to Amadeus, he says, "Seems ye'd be the best at this, so how aboot ye take the lead? We'll all dress up like the fools in this camp and take advantage o' daylight 'n no guards ta free everyone and get equipped. Let's go before we're discovered."

Montar looks around for attire similar to what the camp's denizens are wearing, and wears that. If it's not possible, he'll just find a cloak in this tent and cover his head and face with it.

You’ve noticed a few different "types" among the camp:

Most of the camp is made up of rough-looking folk in simple, dark clothes: worn leathers, patched shirts, cheap boots. Some cover their faces with scarves or bandanas, others don't bother. They look like hired muscle, drifters, cutthroats… the kind of people you find in any gang if you pay enough coin.

A smaller number have sturdier armour and better weapons or they wear dark-coloured robes.

But the raiders who chased Tam (the ones in black dragon masks and spiked mantles) are rare. You've only seen a few of them and everyone else seems to give them space.

There are plenty of discarded clothes in the chests and crates around you that you can use to disguise yourselves if you feel your current attire stands out too much.

Given those observations, Montar figures that his worn smith's leathers are sufficiently unlikely to stand out. He does grab a scarf and uses it to cover his face, just in case someone recognizes him. He tucks the dagger into his belt for now.