It's eight years after a huge 10-player pre-pandemic one-shot, with those events becoming the backdrop.
Eight years ago, the social contract with the feudal lord broke down when the nobles and their enforcers fled before a wave of marauding beastmen. The PCs, 0-level serfs that barely survived the raid, tracked the raiders to their lair, to rescue friends and relatives that were taken prisoner.
A third of the town died in the raid, and many more were killed or maimed in the rescue. It took years to recover. The first winters were rough; even without the lord's grain tax. With the loss of so many able-bodied and most of the livestock, surviving winter was all anybody could think about.
But the desperate years forged a new community. Old grudges and debts were erased. Families took in orphans, widows and the maimed. Cropland and livestock herds were pooled. The nobles were replaced by a council of elders and de facto democracy. Some families refused at first, some even fled, but those that stayed only survived by being banqueted by their neighbors.
Years later, the town now thrives. Without the burden of the lord and his court, the communal stores are full and nobody fears hunger.
Rumors are the nobility still believes the town destroyed, but it's only a matter of time. To stay a freehold, the town needs resources, for growth, defenses, and diplomacy or a military.
That means gold. Lots of gold. But they know just where to look for it.