He can knock the bar back far enough to open the door a crack, and then the rest of the way. 


This is a kitchen and dining area with a fireplace; next to it is a parlor. There are some people sleeping in the parlor, but the sound of the door opening doesn't wake them; it's still very noisy outside.

It's very dark, but it's also quite dark outside and his eyes are adjusted to it. (He cautiously re-bars the door partway, to avoid it blowing open in the wind and making a lot of noise while he's inside.) 

...If he were a town wizard, where would he keep his spellbook? Possibly in his bedroom, which would be inconvenient, but he'll try the other areas first. 

Ready to freeze and crouch down on a moment's notice if anyone stirs, he creeps around, looking for shelves or cupboards or other obvious places. 

There's a laundry room, and a chest above the mantle of the fireplace in that room. 

...If he were a wizard, and his spellbook were in there, he might put his wards or alarms there. Maybe this man is less paranoid. Still, Aroden gauges his escape routes before touching the chest; is there a faster way out than sprinting back to the front door? 

The laundry room has its own exit, presumably through which people bring laundry to be washed. That door is barred right now, though.

He slides the bar back first, then, to check that it moves without resistance, and then puts it back partway before looking at the chest.  

It's not that large, large enough to contain maybe a couple of books. It's locked. It looks like it's used regularly; it's not dusty, which the rest of the room is on account of how for the last three weeks no one has been bringing laundry.

Is there a key in evidence anywhere in the room, or - a jar, a bowl, the sort of object that a key might be hidden inside...? 

There is not.

...If he were a wizard, he would sleep with the key on his body. Which is inconvenient for his purposes. 

He slips back out into the main area, peering around for either a key-receptacle, maybe on the mantle above the other fireplace, or for anything thin and metal that might be used to pick a lock. (He checks his pockets too, just in case, not that he's expecting a random upstanding farmer to be equipped with lockpicks.) 

(He is not equipped with lockpicks.) There's a sewing kit in the living room with needles and embroidery hooks and so on. 

He tiptoes over and extracts one of each and heads back to the chest to have a go at the lock. (He has no particular idea how to pick locks so is attempting to model it from first principles, guessing at the shape of the mechanism from how it responds to being poked at.) 

It's not a very good lock but this still takes a while. The storm sounds to be quieting, somewhat, outside. There are muffled voices from the other room. 

...At least the quieter storm means he'll definitely hear footsteps headed this way, and if he does he'll give up and slip out the door right away rather than risk being seen. He shouldn't be visible from this angle unless someone actually heads for this room, though, so he risks trying a little longer. 

No one comes into the laundry room. 

The lock, eventually, pops.

He hesitates, checks that the bar on the door won't take more than a second to slide out the rest of the way, and then cautiously lifts the lid of the chest, ready to run.

There's no audible alarm. There is a spellbook, there, and a little pouch of spell materials.

Then he will take both and shove them under his coat and very quickly slip out the door, ears alert for footsteps (quietly frustrated that his senses right now are so limited.) 

No one pursues him out into the chilly early-morning rain.

Then he'll quickly put as much distance between himself and the wizard's house as he can, since presumably the wizard will be up to prepare his spells soon. 

He's a bit giddy with relief; it's such a piddling achievement, really, and he doesn't feel very good about stealing the local wizard's entire livelihood either, but - one step forward. 

Past the town there's a river that has overflowed its banks and is rushing through the stands of trees that once lined it. There's a road, which is entirely washed out. There are more farms. 

Does his host body know anything about the surrounding region? Nearest decent-size city? 

The nearest big city is Ostenso, on the coast, maybe a week's journey by horse; Augustana is closer as the crow flies but it's through the foothills of the mountains, and a longer trip on horseback. His host body vaguely recalls learning in school that Ostenso was the capital of Cheliax until 3991AR, when King somebody-or-other moved the capital to Westcrown.

Ostenso seems like the sensible destination, then. He doesn't have a horse. Maybe he can steal one, at some point. If any are still alive.

In the short run he's going to need food, and shelter, and a safe place, among people who won't recognize him, where he can look at his stolen spellbook and try to make some headway on it. (He's pretty sure he can use it but doesn't know how, and it could take a lot of puzzling over.)

He trudges off toward the washed-out road, keeping an eye out for places where the water might be too deep to risk wading through. (He's resigned to getting his feet wet, but he'll get chilled if he drenches too much of his clothing, and he absolutely can't afford to damage the spellbook.) 

By midday the rain is definitely letting up; it's still a storm, but no longer an obviously magical one. There are farmhouses. The ones not too close to the river and sturdily built mostly look intact.