Tarwin stayed in position, he could see panic take hold of the elves as they began running back and forth, shouting and barking orders at each others as troops were redeployed to focus on the attacking soldiers. Eventually he spotted his moment of opportunity, the rear was open and no guards were posted, it was likely a panic given change of guard that hadn't worked out properly. He dashed into the encampment, staying low and making his way to a set of stacked creates, he ducked low in the cover and looked around.

The heart of the camp was alive with activity, different groups shuffling and hurrying around in formation. There were at least a dozen large tents and in the very centre was a bonfire, any one of the tents could contain his target. Tarwin moved to the closest tent, the one beside the creates he was using as cover, he poked his head under the canvas at the base of the tent to try and gather some idea as to what it might be. He saw many rows of weapon racks along with boxes full of armour, there didn't seem to be any guards inside and so he wriggled under the tent and stood to look at the armour in more detail. Examining a helmet he picked out he soon realised that this armour was indeed Elven, he soon realised that he'd stumbled across the supply tent.

Tarwin emerged from tent a little while later, garbed in basic elvish armour he hoped that given the manic atmosphere it would make a decent disguise. He glanced around the camp and set off towards another one of the tents, keeping his head down and avoiding the gaze of any elves that might question him or spot that he was almost a head shorter than most others in the camp.