POV: You’re a Farmer — Lance Meets You

The morning sun crests over the distant peaks, casting golden light across your fields. The scent of tilled earth, saplings, and faint embers from your chimney lingers in the crisp air. You’re halfway to the chicken coop, bucket in hand, when you hear boots crunch softly against gravel.

You turn.

Standing just outside your gate is Lance, First Slash Adventurer of Castle Village, arms crossed, eyes sharp, his dark armor catching the morning light like obsidian. He gives a small nod — more formal than friendly, but not cold.

“Ah, you’re awake. I was hoping to catch you before you set out.”

He strides up to you, a glint of amusement in his eyes as he notices a bit of hay in your hair. With practiced ease, he brushes it off.

“There. Tactical disadvantage, handled.”

You raise an eyebrow, and he smirks slightly — that half-teasing, half-serious kind of smirk.

“The guild has asked me to observe activity near the cliffs today, but… truth be told, I had a second reason to come. You’ve made quite the impression, Farmer. Word of your tenacity has reached even the Highlands.”

He pauses, studying your face like he’s memorizing a map he’ll return to later.

“I want to know who you really are — beyond the sword, beyond the soil. If you’re willing… I’d like to walk with you.”

You glance toward the fields, then back at him. It’s not every day someone like Lance shows up at your doorstep, asking for your time.

He gestures toward the mountain trail with a tilt of his head.

“What do you say? Care to show an old monster hunter how a real hero grows crops?”