It had been nearly a year since Felix had joined the militia, though the young man could hardly believe it as such. Of course, the entire thing had become incredibly humdrum. Not that he was complaining. Humdrum meant there weren't any brigands causing havoc, which meant Felix wasn't putting his neck on the line.

Again, not that he had an issue with that. If he did, Felix never would have joined the militia.

He was, after all, a simple country bumpkin. He grew up next to a farm, where he often spent his days play fighting with the girl who lived there, or else helping on the land. It was a plain and peaceful life, and he eventually decided to take the play fights and sparring and turn it into a career.

Thus the militia. Felix noticed some smoke from the Militia HQ. "Hm?" The young man looked up. "Ah... Uhm... What was that message...?" He stood stock still, hand resting on the hilt of his iron sword as he stared at the smoke, trying to decipher the message being sent out.

~~~~~

Outside a farm to the east of Prima, a group of rowdy men approached from the mountains. The group appeared to be 20 strong, and they looked hungry and mean.

"Alright, boys..." A man with a pot belly and a number of scars growled. "We're gonna take all the food we can get out of this lil' ramshackle, and then we're gonna burn it to the ground!" The man was loud as he was ugly, but the others with him cheered. "Anyone get in our way, we're gonna show em the business end of our hatchets!" More cheering.