[Farmer] Redd was not the kind of man who let the past bother him. He had raised five children over the years, one of them his own even. He had always taught them that, to leave the past behind. You learn from it, but when you were done learning you moved on.

But it was hard. It was damned hard, waking every morning by being reminded of what you once had, maybe even took for granted a little, by the dull ache.

He had lost his leg. To the damned ants. After all these bloody years.

Agnes had done a good job of it at the healing house though, and the pain was receding each week. Redd was one of the highest level farmers in the area, although his Class had taken a rare turn at reaching level 40. He was a [Bloodfield Farmer]. A frontiersman since birth.

He had protected the town since it still had some ambitions, even if that had faded over the years, with a few exceptions. Now, he stayed for his kids. Of which one remained, and who wanted to leave come spring.

Damned hassle. But what else could he do? She was the gem of his eye.

And by that he meant he would trade all the gems in the world for a guarantee of getting to watch her live a happy life until his time came. He had raised four other children, all boys, because he had always wanted a son and his farm was large enough for a bigger family. But his late wife’s daughter, his daughter and him, well they had always had a connection that went beyond family. It was bone deep, it was personality.

To Redd it was actually one of the funniest things, because she was growing more alike her mother each year, but more like him too, inside. Especially when she cursed. Rebecca had never cursed.

The town of Salcret simply knew her as The Captain, but to him she was Ronia. Oh, she never liked that name.

But how could he call her 'The Captain' instead when she always made that same cute face from her childhood whenever he called her by it? She’s bringing it on herself really.

She should know enough to understand he would always see his little girl. Even now, as she came walking up the gravel path to his farmhouse, just like she always used to.

The snow was starting to melt, which meant there would be a lot of work to be done. But this year it would not get done, not by them anyway. Maybe by someone else, but likely not.

But make no mistake, Redd was selling the farm, he had already put the word out. And farmers moved houses like hermit crabs, happily if the size difference justified it. Few were larger than Redd’s. That meant there would be a number of mid-sized ones looking to move up in the community of Salcret, and smaller-sized ones who would need to buy theirs first so they could afford it without losing out on any of the opportunities that were bound to spring up during the summer, whether it was a trader deciding to come their way for once, or an orchard-grade apple from Liam, or anything else.

And even when they did buy it they may well wait to move in, until the summer was over and done with, looking to bring in one final season of crops. Redd's farm would make do with some light maintenance in the meantime.

These were the things people concerned themselves with, jostling to guard themselves against future trouble by hedging and needling for advantage. Despite being out here on the frontier, space inside the Townguard field was limited. That did not apply to everybody of course, if you were above level 40 and could confidently face down a gang of ogres, for example.

Growing up her father used to talk about how Salcret was different back in the day, how they used to have ambitious leaders, in Bertrud and Dunner, before the two mages had their falling out and things slowly turned to shit. The small advantages people started feuds over now were a dime a dozen back then, supposedly. It was before his time as well, but he had heard every story.

Her father was a leader as well, even if he prefered a tight-knit group more than lording it over crowds. He had always talked about doing things other than farming, it was not really where his talents lay, as even his Class had realised. But still, it felt bad getting rid of her childhood home. Her father’s farm.

As she walked up the gravel path she could see her father’s face in the window. He smiled and waved, the way he had what felt like tens of thousands of times.

“How is your day going, pops?” His face broke out in another smile. “It is splendid so far Ronia, very splendid.” She knew he was going to call her that anyway, so ‘pops’ was how she preemptively got her revenge, even if she liked to vary her nicknames and risked him liking a few. Now she gave him her best frown.

He slapped his knee and laughed, as always when she played along. “Sorry Captain,” He stood to salute and she hugged him rather than suffer the embarrassment of the sight.

“Got any stew left or did you shovel it all down already?” She peered into the pot on his stove.

“You know I do not eat the way I used to, there is plenty.” That was another reason to get rid of the farm, he used to eat a tenth of what it produced all on his own. Granted, some fields were not for edibles.

They enjoyed a companionable silence and Ronia shovelled food in her face, exactly the way her father did, despite always admonishing him and remaining convinced she did nothing of the sort herself.

“Any word on a date yet?” He asked her, brows raised in amusement when she could not answer due to her full mouth.

She swallowed and then wiped her mouth, all prim and proper in her leather guards. “Not yet, but I will hear in good time, Lena is going with them, remember?”

Oh right, he remembered Lena. “Her and you have been friends since you were both damn near bloody toddlers,” She glared. “Not even true, I am three years older than her, I was babysitting while you claimed to and worked out instead.” She grabbed a bread roll and munched it down as they prepared to go.

Her father was not small, in fact to anybody else he was probably terrifying. At least in the wrong mood. He had scars all over, and now with his missing leg you would think it might lessen the overall impression, but no. In fact he seemed larger than ever since losing the limb, which was strange but partly explained by him gaining a level.

“How tall are you now?” She was eying him and trying to figure it out. “I dunno, but it feels as if the magic that used to go to my leg is now going everywhere else,” That was one of her father’s quirks. He just called the [System] magic; barely acknowledged it in any other way.

He ducked out of the house. “One thing I am sure of, we’re building the next house bigger,”

Those were the final words they spoke before enjoying the silence on the short road back to Salcret. Her father walked with his oversized hoe in hand. It was an ancient design, called a broad arrow weeding hoe. His was just six times larger than a normal one.

The reasons Ronia wanted to move to Dormata with Lena were many. Her friend was finally getting her act together and trying to realise her Class’ potential. She hoped to be there to help in case Harold and Kalle turned out to be the next Bertrud and Dunner. She even wanted to see her four siblings who had moved there one by one over the years.

They had all lived on Redd’s farm for twenty years, and went on trips to Dormata to get better prices for some of their more impressive wares that Salcret was already saturated with. As the lads all grew up they started going on the trips themselves, and eventually all found partners that were too used to Dormata-life to consider moving to a frontier town, no matter how imposing Redd’s protection seemed.

The scars spoke for themselves.

Seeing them all again would be good, great even with her father along. The sight of their faces when they saw his missing leg would be a prized memory, of that she was certain. They all thought of him as indestructible.

But most of all she was going there to look for leads on what she believed to be Ronald’s murder. She was done ruling out anyone in Salcret being involved, and her Class and very nature demanded that she pull every thread. And the next was leading straight to Dormata, where his two sons were headed next.

Even with the lack of clues, she could not risk anything happening to them as well. She had failed one ward already, and knew that the death could not have been natural. Her Skill [Recall: Final Moments] had shown her that, if not much else.

For now she would bring her father and move to Dormata. If possible wheedle them both into the budding [Guild], but that could wait until later. Preparing to join the expedition would be good enough, until the day it was time to go; then they could join it.

And to what would soon become Livia’s annoyance, she did not see a reason to let the rest of them in on their plans.

The Captain did not like to dwell on the future either, just like her pops.