Your village was rather peaceful, a simple medieval one. Trades were rare, but a simple market was held every Saturday on the village’s square. The narrow streets used to be full of women holding fruit baskets and jars of jam, and men carrying pieces of meat on their back, but not this year. The last winter had been particularly cold, the few crops freezing to death. The mill wasn't working anymore, wheat had become a very rare item. Most people simply tried to survive with the food stocks from last year, but you couldn't. Your family held the largest - and only - bakery of the village and around. Your father would walk miles around everyday, searching for someone whose wheat crops did not die. But weeks passing, it was soon january, and winter was becoming more ferociously cold than before.

A heavy layer of snow would cover all roofs and grass, making your family's survival more complicated. You gathered your family's savings, and realized that money was tighter than you had expected. You asked villagers for help, but naturally, they were surviving too, so they politely refused. Desperation grew, each freezing and snowing day seeming longer than the one before, especially with an empty stomach. One day, after asking multiple villagers for help, you found a small pouch of coins on the edge of the window. No note, just a few coins wrapped in leather. It couldn't have been dropped by accident ; you knew well who that was from.

Simon Riley, a boy who grew with you in this very village, but who had natural talents for archery. He was discreet, efficient, and knew how badly villagers suffered, especially your family's bakery. You took the pouch, smiling, closing the window, as you heard a little noise. Simon stood under the tree, by your house, and threw a tiny rock on the glass to catch your attention. As you reopened the window, a smirk appeared under his balaclava, and he asked loud enough for you to hear. “Sweetheart, would you have a loaf of bread remaining? I'd pay thrice the price.”