It is night. You have set up camp in the hollow of the roots of a great tree, resting your weary feet from your wanderings in this immense and labyrinthian forest. You are Khazad the Dwarf, and you are lost. As you pick absently at the small, merry campfire, you hear something rustle in the trees. Your heart leaps to your throat, hammering painfully like dwarven wedding drums. You snatch your sword and hold it before you, gripping it tight with both hands.

"Who's there?" you say. "Show yourself!" Then you repeat the command in all the languages you know. The last one, used by the human merchants that sometimes come to trade with the mountainhall, is answered by a weak voice, something between a rasp and a moan.

A man stumbles out of some bushes, his face briefly illuminated by the light of the campfire. Dark circles hang beneath his half-lidded eyes. His lips are chapped in the extreme. As he steps forward, he gasps for breath like a man who has just surfaced from a long dive. "Please..." he says. Then his eyes roll back and he collapses to the ground.

All is still. You cautiously poke the man with your sword, but, though he breathes, he does not stir. He seems to have only lost consciousness, likely from exhaustion, for you can see no injuries, no blood or wound—except for a strange bruise on the back of his neck, in the shape of curled fingers. You turn him over. He has a pair of daggers on his belt, and is dressed like a common traveler. He also has a satchel, as tattered and patchwork as your own knapsack, and a piece of yarn around his neck on which have been threaded a set of shiny lockpicks.

>Choose all that apply:
[ ] Rifle through his satchel
[ ] Take any valuables
[ ] Slit his throat
[ ] Monitor him through the night
[ ] Share some of your provisions with him
[ ] Inquire about his bruise
[ ] Write-in

I'm back. I wanted to give this another shot. I think I know what I did wrong the first time and I think I can do better this time around.