The musician, eyes bulging, breathing heavy, sweat literally dripping, said nothing at all. The terror of what stood before him had overloaded his brain, he hadn't counted on anything like this to happen and he genuinely feared for his life. 
Suddenly something hit Vekyzz in the back. the sudden spray of wood of varying sizes and shapes, as well as the painful imprint the object had made told the demon that it was one of the tavern's many chairs of dubious standard, this one had obviously seen better days. As Vekyzz turned his eyes on the room in order to figure out who needed a swift punch to the groin the most he caught the end of something bright blue as if wafted through the rapidly closing door. The rest of the room was filled with people too stunned to move, some perhaps thinking that they'd be safe if they just stayed perfectly still.  

Outside, the goblin known as Baxxink did his best to look inside all the coaches. He was too short for some, and had to stand on his toes or jump to get even the faintest of looks. Sure, he could climb them like nothing, but his clawed hands and feet tended to leave some scuff marks and that was not the mark of a good thief. The key had broke, and some unlucky bugger would have to get a locksmith before he could get in his coach again, Baxxink only hoped that the guy was very comfortable inside the tavern still. 

[@Fetzen]
The coachmen had been careful to remove any baggage from the roof and back of the coaches, the only place he'd find anything of value would be inside the locked compartments. He got up on the back end of one and looked inside. While there was no visible luggage, the seats in the coaches often opened up to allow people to stash stuff down there. The coach he'd chosen looked like it belonged to someone rich enough to stash some money in there, but still not rich enough to set a trap. That is a very specific kind of rich. 
Baxxink drew his right arm back, curled his hand into a fist, aimed for the centre of the glass sheet and thought about it. 
Glass is hard, brittle, but harder that the average fist. Breaking the glass like that, if even possible by a weak goblin, would hurt like hell and probably scar him for life and drain his blood. He jumped down and looked around, all he needed was something harder than glass, a stone, a good branch, a turtle... Something he could use and then throw away...