Leaving Drazha with the horses, you make your way quickly down the slope to the edge of the Black Wolf encampment. Peering inside the nearest tent, you see a Black Wolf warrior slumped on the floor, his deep snores and the empty ale horn lying at his side obvious clues as to what took place the night before. Nearby are some scattered items of clothing, including two dirty jerkins of black fur, as you've often seen worn by the tribe's warriors.
As you slip one of the jerkins about your shoulders, a drunken mumble comes from across the tent.
"Who're you?" says the Black Wolf warrior, who has now woken from his slumber and stands looking at you, a knife in his hand. As soon as your eyes meet his, he sees you for an imposter.
Before he can shout for help, you are across the tent. You send a fist smashing into his stomach, and the warrior doubles over in pain before slashing at you with the knife. His attack catches you unawares, slicing into your arm.
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