It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Scanlan Shorthalt, a gnome bard . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, The dwarf's skull has a hole bored into it, like the goblins Vex discovered earlier. The hooded figure nods towards the duergar general and they walk back to the barracks.
DM: You hear what sounds like guttural Dwarvish being shouted angrily, cursing from the interior, and a few other dwarven voices also joining in-- more than two. You hear some horrible, sick thuds and some impacts and some cries of pain. And eventually, the five duergar dragging the captives walk out, carrying cudgels at their side, still dripping with fresh blood. They kind of go amongst their own business from there.
Player: Okay. I think I'll go back to my fellows. There's nothing I can see-- that door doesn't lock-- does it lock by any chance?
DM: It's just an opening tent.
Player: Open tent. There's nothing lying around, none of that black armor lying around or anything? Any extra things --
DM: Not on the street.
Player: Okay, I think I will just make back for my friends, then.
DM: Okay, make a stealth check.
