Over the palisade!

You're tempted by the idea of slinking through the front gate, but it suddenly seems very suspicious that they'd have a sentry patrolling the palisade, but not a single guard posted at the only entrance. Further, you're concerned about being in a direct sightline of the campfire for the few seconds that it would take to scurry behind a tent. No, you decide that, despite the initial noise of your climbing, that going over the palisade is the safer and the wiser move. The palisade, little more than a couple hundred logs driven into the ground one after the other, comes up to your bosom. The main problem, however, is that each log ends in a spike. Presumably to stop naughty girls like you clambering over them. Not wishing to injure yourself on your climb over, you feel along the tip of log after log, travelling clockwise. One Magpie must have gotten sloppy with one of them. They must have. Finally, your fingers touch a tip where the point isn't sharp, instead blunted like an overused pencil. This is where you'll get over.

You hunker down behind the wall, pressing yourself against the slightly wet wood. The sentry is about to pass, and you need him as far away as possible when you make your climb. He passes right by you, pauses for a moment, eyes scanning the surroundings, and then continues. Tracking him by the sound of his whistling, you use your sharp elven senses to follow his movements. The next few seconds are incredibly long, straining your slightly pointed ears to track the sentry to the step. Another few seconds. Finally, your heart tells you that the whistling won't get any fainter, and you launch into action.

Both of your hands grip onto the grooves between each log, testing the strength by tugging downward. It doesn't wobble. Counting to three in your head, you pull up while simultaneously jumping with your still grounded feet. Carried by your forward momentum, you bring your legs up and right, making your body momentarily horizontal, while pulling yourself forward. You execute it flawlessly. Landing on your feet, you hear a noticeable crunch as your metal sabatons make rough contact with the ground. You freeze, stock still, knees bent, heart thumping. There's a tent only a step in front of you. You're lucky you didn't launch yourself into it.

You here a stirring from inside the tent, and your blood runs cold. Did you wake them...? You stay stock still, eyes wide, like a heavily armoured deer caught in headlights. One... two... three... But no other sound comes from the tent. Knowing that the sentry is patrolling back to you now, You make your next move quickly. Darting to the right and between two tents, you keep low, hearing the sentry approaching. His sightline of you is blocked by one of the tents, and you have the time to plan.

You can see the large tent from here, and know therein lies your target. However, the men drinking around the fire a few steps away could be trouble. Perhaps you could create some kind of distraction to lure them away, and then strike? You can't think what kind of distraction you could make without you staying there to make it though. That's when it hits you. Perhaps you could start a fire on the opposite side of the camp with your holy powers! That would draw their attention and make a lot of ruckus. But it's also incredibly risky. You could be caught at any moment going there or going back, by anyone. You could just make a mad dash to your target and hope for the best. Not the best idea, but it's a lot safer in the short term.

Time to make another decision, you suppose.