When Livia awoke the day after the auction she was in pain.

Uuugh, what happened?

Right. She’d celebrated, that’s what happened. Elin was probably feeling even worse. Gah, and they had so much to do today.

But damn, it’d been a good time. At the time. The early portions certainly, probably the latter part too. The snippets were fun, but disjointed.

Livia just laid there for a while, which turned out to be only ten minutes–before her body reminded her why it woke her up.

She went to pee, and then barf, and then she came back to bed to lay down for another 30 minutes.

She’d been singing a lot last night, and Livia hadn’t even sung in the shower back home. Her voice was fine, but certainly untrained. Still, she had her reasons, namely getting to see the others join in. No matter how silly you felt and how awkward it would have been doing it alone, there was never a need to, and getting to see Elin, an [Accountant] from a frontier town, used to dealing with clients many years her senior, not to mention Harold, it was all too good to pass up. And the Dormata songs were somehow even goofier than the ones they sung in Salcret, some of them were up there anyway.

Livia'd been feeling on top of the world, and couldn’t help it when she saw how fun it would be getting the rest of the [Guild] to join in; and then Oscar had arrived and it had just been perfect, she’d laughed for 10 minutes straight as the lyrics just got weirder and weirder, with no need to exaggerate.

Right, and later Oscar had gotten all those offers from the Arena. But who was that who came by and stirred things up later? Livia’s mind reached but all it touched was void.

Oh, it’ll come to me. She did remember how one of the recruiters had grown adamant that Oscar was making a mistake by the end, after he’d already rejected offers from 3 of the other one's schools. Something about how he’s wasting his talents not fighting every day?

The memory arrived with clarity as she followed the thread to its end; Oscar had actually looked right at her before he answered. “I am flattered by your interest, but no. It is clear you are not familiar with a [Squire],” And the man did look like he sorely missed a comeback for that.

He'd looked questioningly at Livia, making the man turn around and suddenly act awkward after realizing his rival employer was there. “I believe my Class is about much more than just fighting?”

Oh, I'm glad that memory survived. What volume was that beer last night anyway? Livia had given him a dazed but impressed and confirming nod, before he went on. “It’s about serving all of your own people, and those in need who may be an ally or friend, and then all you're offering is riches," Oscar had not said the words insultingly, but simply like stating facts, although he was too tipsy to be acting timid about it. “I appreciate it, like I said. But I have a mission more fitting for my Class at this stage, so for now I will decline.”

And the man could only take his rejection and go, at that calm delivery.

Livia smiled again at not having forgotten that part, and prepared to go down for breakfast and see who else had been spared the kind of hangover that left you bedridden ‘til well past noon... That was still an hour away, they had time for the recruitment and final purchases still. And picking up the [Cloche Illuminance Sensor], can’t forget about that.

But that’s when she remembered how she had someone she could just ask. “Hey, psst, did anything noteworthy happen in the latter portion of the party last night, my memory is still a bit fuzzy,”

Mr Beard had been watching and clearly waiting, but he knew better than to interrupt when it was likely for Livia to be in a sore mood. [Oh, after you got back here? Hm. Well, yes I suppose a few things. You met one of the Merchants from the auction, who you almost got into a fist fight with. You went on a ride on Oscar’s ostrich. Oh right, and you gave Redd a Quest.]

“I fucking what?”

It only took Mr Beard 5 minutes to calm Livia down this time.

He was getting better at it... From all the practice.

When Livia actually took the time to think on it, then there it was. Plain as day. No context, just the memory of the text like an imprint on her mind.

[Rare Quest Issued: Deliver your charges to a new, safe home. Reward: Officer Title. Hidden objective available. Reward: Vigilant Booming Protector-conditional 30-day deadline]

Livia’s headache came back on with a vengeance. And she knew she was the only one to blame, intellectually. She still said: “Why didn’t you stop me?” In the most feeble voice.

[Because you were arguing back out loud, I tried, believe me. You didn’t even ask him, you just said it was perfect, fought me for 30 seconds–which was awkward–and then fired off, with Redd's blessing and nobody else's knowledge…]

Livia just groaned. [I stopped trying when you risked exposing us, even if they almost certainly just thought you were crazy, had you kept going there was no telling what you would say.]

That all sounded so… Uncharacteristic. “But I’m a happy drunk, what exactly were we drinking?”

[It wasn’t that, you just got into a strange mood after that scuffle with the Merchant]

And Livia could only sigh at that. It’s true, she just might have overreacted if she felt like the person was going after someone in their [Guild].

Unfortunately she blanked on remembering more details, and so figured the best course was to check on what the others remembered first, so she finally headed downstairs to try and force down a breakfast.

Moa ate three fruits when she woke with the dawn, as always. Then she went through her sword forms; and then she got clean again.

These strangers that had taken her in to do work, they were rather special. Tourists usually were, but this was another level. Moa didn’t know if it was because they were from far down in the isolated south, or if it was their Classes, but they took some adjusting to. That much she could tell.

But she was not feeling bad about it; not so long as she was not going to be the only new kid. And she’d been assured she wouldn’t be, they only needed to finish with the auction, and have a look at their budget, before they’d be recruiting others, on a trial basis.

That time was now, and the plan must still be on, because all signs pointed to the auction having gone very well. Although Moa heard they had apparently spent 30 000 silver on some Enchanted farming contraption, which sounded ridiculous. They could have gotten two very solid magic weapons for that price, or even hired three or four level 20 working stooges for the better part of a year, depending on their gear.

But they’d been to the auction, so obviously they knew that. And apparently their stuff had likewise sold for an undisclosed amount; but Moa could tell it must be a lot considering the way they celebrated.

Moa realized she was feeling a bit of envy. These people were her age, and yet her training was far from complete and getting to be responsible for anything approaching her own company remained years away. Even then she'd still remain at the beck and call of her father and Patriarkka–the head of the family.

But when the level 3 [Marauding Warrior] ended up with these people, it had not been by choice after all–but by getting her shit kicked in. She was not exactly keen to ingratiate herself either; she was far too used to it being the other way around.

After all, she was from a rather ambitious–and if she compared herself to these bumpkins–certainly successful family of mercenaries.

They had been taking in strays and training them since she was young; and they all ended up working for the family in the end. She was likewise trained in the same vein to receive the same Class–with a few family secrets, of how to develop her Skills–sprinkled on top by way of both her father and brothers. And Moa had been looking forward to adding Oscar to their squad, during their fight.

Now things turned out this way instead. And they’d sent her here with nothing but her sword and a knapsack. Well, I had that shield too, until he ate it…

Moa still couldn’t believe that was actually what had happened, but Redd had explained it to all the [Guild]'s fighters together. Who the hell has gear with a high level Enchantment like that, and claims not to be aware of it?

And that was far from the only strange thing about her current situation... But to tell the truth Moa was not even feeling abandoned any more, the feeling that her father had simply called her bluff, as usual, was all that remained.

She had nagged him more than once over her softer treatment, and how he so often seemed to treat her as lesser than her brothers. Learning later how it was all due to her mother's insistence that Moa should grow up to learn to use her every advantage, including beauty, had not helped. The "preferential" treatment, the not targeting her face etc. None of it had been due to her father’s will at all.

So what if her brother had lost an eye. He'd gotten a Skill later to compensate... Rather than start adhering to the ‘preferential’ treatment, Moa had started feeling like it chafed even worse, and so acted out accordingly; and it was clear now that her father secretly approved.

But earlier this week, all Moa had wanted was to prove herself.

Instead she’d suffered defeat; and ultimately shown both herself and her father how she truly wasn’t up to snuff, even against a frontier [Guild] not focused on combat. Her father had really not reacted at all the way she would have expected, in fact he had not seemed upset at all over losing her for three years. Once they were alone he had explained how he viewed the situation as a win-win, either they would overcome a challenge and collect a new member. Or they would send Moa off, away from her mothers vigilant eye, as required by contract after having underestimated a wily opponent–to finally be hardened and grow, the way her brothers had been allowed to.

The ones who made it back.

Just in time for her new Class. She’d gotten exactly what she wanted; no coddling. She just hadn’t expected to be sent off so unprepared, all her brothers had worked hard with a team for six months before their missions away, and they'd been at least on the cusp of their first capstone too.

I wanted to be treated equally, not worse damnit. Sigh, why can’t there just be some balance for once. Now Moa was sitting back at the breakfast table where she’d had some fruit hours earlier; and the veteran crew were all coming down one by one, and bringing out breakfast–so she decided she may as well join in.

And like that an hour passed, with no sign of their [Guild] leader. Although it had sounded like she was up for a minute by the noise from upstairs earlier.

When she finally did come down, they gave her a few boiled eggs and then the others went to get ready for heading out so Livia and the [Guild] could go to the recruitment centre as soon as she was done.

But then their exodus got interrupted by a startlingly muscular and boisterous man in a black training suit with coiling silver details. Moa did not recognise him at first, but then when she did she immediately started sweating, especially when she heard their leader's first words.

“Hello there again. Are you all sobered up now, ready to discuss my offer?”

Livia had turned around to nobody in particular and muttered: “Wait, that’s who I was trying to hit last night?”

But the only one who looked more shocked than Moa, once the recognition wormed its way in, was Sten. That’s fucking Thorbjörn Birgirsson…

Moa did not know him, but she certainly knew of him.

He was known to run the dirtiest gladiator school in Dormata; and the richest.

Despite how few actual matches they won.

How could that be? Well, if you were smart enough to come up with that question, it nearly always meant you were smart enough not to ask it.

Nearly.

Livia had apparently met the man last night, but it seemed she could not recall it, and so she went to meet him again now, with a hand reached out for a handshake and prepared to provide a clean slate. “I’m afraid you must’ve caught us at a bad time last night, I hope I wasn’t too rude. Would you care to repeat your offer? I remember your pockets are far from empty, but you probably didn’t see me. We were in the same auction house.”

So apparently they also had some history before last night, Moa was regretting not going with them to the event now, if only because she wanted to understand how much danger she was in. Livia had walked up to the man completely undaunted, but he’d ignored her hand.

“3000 silver for a 2-year duration, for someone not even at their first capstone yet, it’s a generous offer. Far too generous, I would say, to be forgotten–even in the haze of drink. Don’t think I can’t tell how low level you are, or how old. That money is good as precious stones for a loser group like you,” He sneered at them playfully.

The offer was shit, if you asked Moa.

Livia seemed to recall why things had gone south last night. But what she said next was what really threw Moa for a spin.

“Come on, that’s pocket change. And Oscar’s not under contract, he’s a full member. What, were you hoping he was in a [Guild] that didn’t know of his Class? Hah, we got him that Class. You’re barking up the wrong tree buddy, you should stick to messing with Foxkin,”

And now what the hell does that mean?

But to Moa’s surprise the most well-known–of unknown Class–Gangster of Dormata took the words like a joke and laughed uproariously. “Aaah, that’s too good. Sten I can see why you chose this one to follow from home, I must have missed her back when. But I’m surprised you wouldn’t come to visit your brother in Dormata, first thing on arrival. What gives?”

And now that threw even Livia for a loop, it seemed. But Moa noted how their best young fighter seemed prepared for the question. “I left for very different reasons from yours, and even if me and Birgir have our issues, that doesn’t mean I agree with any of what you did, especially not throwing Sammy under the hooves,”

Which was luckily a bumpkin expression Moa had heard of before, or she’d have assumed the worst.

But all the words got them was another mocking laugh. “Birgir? Ahahah, that’s too good. From you lot, who used to always be: Yes daddy this, yes daddy that.”

Sten muttered under his breath how he’d never used that word in his life, but it was to no avail. His oldest brother clearly wasn’t listening.

“You came here for other reasons then, and you won’t sell me the boy with the interesting Class. I see, I see. No brotherly love remaining. Well. Then what if I just take him?”

He feinted a rush at them, for barely a hundred of a second. But the fighters all reacted, even if all they did was twitch.

Redd was the only one who did not flinch, and only got up slowly and surely to balance with his weapon in hand.

“Oh, if it isn’t Ol’ Redd. I didn’t see you there,” Bullshit. “The old man no one would dare mess with. But you see Redd, things are a little more competitive around these parts,”

He moved, and this time none of them flinched. They had no time to.

He’d moved 10 steps closer like a flash, and now he was only 2 metres off from their table.

Redd still kept his calm, but Sten and the others were all bristling, once they caught up with the movement.

“You may still be higher level, but guess what; I’m already level 38. That’s right, the same as dad, and more than 10 years younger to the mark. Think you can take me on, while protecting all these kids? You know you haven’t got the Class. I reckon I could take another limb, and still get away scot-free. Is keeping the boy leveling to his first capstones together with you all worth that much then?”

He seemed to be indicating that if Oscar survived they could expect a level 20 [Gladiator] variant to return, and nobody told a level 20 combat-Class what to do, so if he still wanted to return he’d be free to. So long as he survived the two years. But Moa doubted things were so cut and dry, like normally in a criminal organisation.

But surprisingly, what came to their rescue was not Redd with a domineering comeback, nor was it Livia dropping a clever line, somehow unperturbed by the threat of violence–no.

It was Jane.

As soon as she moved to get up from her seat–in that way only Jane could move–Thorbjörn’s bluster suddenly deflated, and he had the mischievous smile from earlier on his face again.

She didn’t even say anything, she just walked up to him, but then straight through as if he did not even exist.

Nobody but Redd ever even saw her arm move, but suddenly Thorbjörn had been launched at the inn wall as if from a trebuchet.

Luckily for him, Thorbjörn must have had some Skill that allowed him to land on the wall softly like a spider, and then he turned his head to look at her, instantly prepared for another attack to come at him.

But Jane had only kept walking to the bar, ordering another glass of milk from the sweaty bartender, and then she waltzed right on back towards her seat.

Thorbjörn got down from the strange position, Moa noted how somehow he’d kept his smile throughout. “Hah, point taken. Seems your group might hold some hidden depths then. I didn’t even recognise you sitting there, Finuvia.”

Jane ignored the man, but the rest of the [Guild] all looked to her, hoping for a sign or hint of recognition on her face.

She gave away nothing.

When Jane sat back down, and it was clear the ball was back in Thorbjörn’s court, he went to stand in front of them again, but a little further off this time.

“Hope you weren’t dumb enough to take that too seriously. I wouldn’t be caught dead attacking family. Sten knows that well enough. Just looking to see what you're made of," He looked straight at Sten. "Whether anyone among your new crew has a pair of balls set to drop,”

And with that lovely mental image to remember him by, it seemed that Thorbjörn was done. “You let me know when you’re back, and need a favour, or got something to sell. You know what I do,”

Moa watched him go, and the breath she released… It felt like she must have been holding it for hours.