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My story begins a few months after my initial class training as an adventuring thief. The training barely adequate, I struggled to find any meaningful work, I soon lost my weapons and armor, and now, hungry, tired and not a copper to my name, I had stumbled into the northwestern outskirts of a tiny human village called Tabin.

Me? My name is Laamtora, a 17-year-old wood elf orphaned as a baby and raised far from this despicable human village. Little did I know how fateful my encounter with Tabin would be.

Standing there in the dark, driving rain, my spirit continued to sink. Down on my luck these past few months, I looked about the older, dirty, unimpressive town and assumed that more bad luck awaited—what good could possibly come from this miserable speck of existence here?

I soon encountered a large gray barn, one of over a dozen in the area but this one not just larger but seemingly well used. Keeping low in the grassy field and remaining wary even in the driving rain, I searched the local area around the large barn, recognizing that the building’s entrance was closed and locked but several old windows potentially offered entrance as well as a backdoor that also appeared closed and locked.

Studying the barn, it didn’t take much thought to recognize that it likely contained a great deal of foodstuffs. If I could somehow get in, I could not only alleviate my terrible hunger but take enough food to last me a few weeks! My hunger all but in control at this point, finding a way into the barn seemed like the obvious choice. The question was, HOW to get in?