Having Nothing Doesn't Justify Stealing

Lolchess walked through the winding alleys of the town, her black cloak swaying gently with each step. In her hand, the old parchment map the innkeeper had given her was carefully rolled up, secured with a simple leather ribbon. The sun, barely risen, cast long shadows over the worn cobblestones.

The townsfolk were beginning to open their shops, while the first passersby hurried along to start their day. At every corner, familiar sounds filled the air: the rustle of linen robes, sleepy voices exchanging morning greetings, and the creak of doors being carefully unlocked. Yet, Lolchess's figure went almost unnoticed.

The town's main gate appeared at the end of the path. A few guards, sleepy and inattentive, stood on either side, their armor clinking softly with every move. One of them briefly glanced up as he noticed Lolchess approaching but quickly looked away.

She stopped just before crossing the gates. Her gaze fell on the map she held.