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Chapter Four

Roka looked around the guild hall.

He, Exra and Gunnar had long since left Homestead Farm behind them, traveling through an especially deep forest beneath a dark canopy of trees. There, they had fought their way through wolves, forest kobolds, and a breed of bunnies that spat poison. Eventually the forest gave way to a road, thick and etched with the marks of cart wheels. They followed the road until, with an air of triumph; they reached the city of Ataria.

The first hub city in the game, Ataria was a beautiful city carved into the side of a towering mountain. Surrounded from the fierce denizens of the forest by vast white city walls that reached high into the sky, Ataria was decorated in a style that reminded the cleric of mediaeval Europe. Beneath tiled ceilings of blue and red, the city's shops held offerings beyond what Roka could possibly imagine.

The first of the buildings that they had located was the guild masters. Exra had shown them the way, weaving steadily through the winding city streets, while Gunnar explained eagerly to the cleric everything he knew about the history of the city. By the time the buffalo reached the tale of the fall of the sixth dynasty, the cleric was starting to feel sleepy.

Upon finding the guild master's office, tucked into a small building opposite the imperial legion's office, the process of finalising the guild's creation moved much quicker. One of the game's many characters that inhabited the city, this one an aged falcon with a full grey beard and the name tag "Guildkeeper Velothi", had handed a sheaf of paper to Exra. As she carefully checked all of the guild perks and benefits and began to type in a name, Gunnar regaled Roka with a tale of the time Guildmaster Velothi had founded the guilds in the closing days of the second age as a means to dodge the unfair taxation system of the cruel tyrant Blackheart the Cruel.

One of the perks of being a member of a guild was the use of a guild hall. A secret, personal hideaway that was utterly secure from all other players, the guild halls were located in the housing district of the city, north of the naval docks. Roka had been excited at the idea of having his own secret area of the game. It had reminded him of a children's clubhouse. As a kid he had never had one, having had perilously few friends to share one with. He had, one summer, attempted to build a tree house, much like he had seen children do in television shows. It had not ended well, resulting in little more than a handful of branches haphazardly fastened together by string.

When the three of them had set of towards the guild quarter to find their hall, Roka had wondered how it would be possible that the many thousands of prayers in the game could possibly live in a relatively small neighbourhood of the town.

When he had arrived, he understood. "This is a bit small" he said.

"Why, 'tis but a starting location, my canine friend" said Gunnar. "We could easily fit two, perhaps even there more players into this hall."

The cleric glanced around. He took a few steps into the room, carefully avoiding a large hole that sat contentedly in the floorboards.

Exra was jumping up and down, as was usual for her, with each jump bringing her precariously close to the low-hanging ceiling. "It'll be great once we decorate it."

"We can decorate it?" asked Roka. The idea seemed impressive. If he was very, very careful and planned the placement of it just right, he thought that the hall might, just might, have enough room for a bean bag chair. A small one.

The fire witch nodded to him. "Items that can furnish the guild hall can be found in places around the world. They can be given as rewards for completing quests, some enemies drop them when killed, and some can be found randomly in dungeons and events. For instance, the 'soft plush settee' randomly appears in the Chamber Of Poison Fumes, and the 'nodding dog statue' appears every seven hours at a random location in one of the seven Islands Of No Hope."

Roka nodded, trying to imagine the three of them carrying a large sofa out of the fiery pits of a volcano. Then he looked around. If they were very, very careful, they might be able to squeeze about half a sofa into the hall, if they did not mind needing to climb over it each time they came through the door. "Is there no way that we can find a bigger hall?"

"Aye, laddie" said Gunnar, "but the larger halls are kept sequestered, reserved for the guilds of great renown across all seven kingdoms. Only the warriors of virtue who have carved their names upon the rocks of destiny itself have earned the right to dwell in the fabled halls of heroes!"

Roka looked at the rabbit. She smiled, and translated what the Buffalo had said. "The hall gets bigger depending on how big the guild is," she explained, "if we want a bigger hall, we sign up more members to join us."

That, Roka understood. "So, more guild mates, bigger hall. Bigger hall, more space. More space, trips to Planes Of Slow Agonising Death to buy pillows and curtains. That it?"

She nodded.

"Well," he said, "guess we had better get recruiting."

* * *

"Join our guild" called Roka. He stood by the large, dusty road that wound its way towards the vast hated of Ataria city, shouting his advertisement to any wandering adventurer who happened across the road. "We're really cool!"

He didn't feel too cool. But what else was he supposed to say? Having a guild of only three members, with no trophies (and no display case in their hall to display any) and no significant achievements to speak of, Roka had perilously little that he could add.

He had shouted his promise of unfathomable coolness to, at last count, thirty seven adventurers of varying levels. One of them, a short little green rat with a splash of bright pink hair, had actually stopped to listen. Roka had thought that he was about to express an interest in joining, but the rat had simply said "lol" and ran off down the dirt road.

On the whole, Roka wasn't sure that this was the best course of action.

In a moment of relative boredom, Roka brought up the game's website and cruised along to the forum section. He browsed through the subsections until he located the section for his own server, and loaded up the topics that people were discussing. He glanced down the page.

Three posts discussed why various people felt that, since the beta testing closed and the game was opened to the general public, of had jumped the shark and was dying. Roka skimmed past those.

His eyes settled on one thread, a discussion from a member of Elite Force, an especially large guild, recruiting for new members to take part in the most challenging, high-level content. The discussion had netted almost a hundred replies, all from people eager to become part of the game's most famous, prolific and envied guild. After being inundated with responders, the original poster had announced that their super-selective application process had elected the most skilled of the applicants, and the thread had been closed.

A few others discussed tips on how to best use something called trade skills, another section of the game's vast gameplay options that the Canine had glanced over but had not yet actively explored. He promised himself to investigate those at some point, but quickly forgot all about it when a feline archer hurried along the dirt tracks in front of him, causing the cleric to call out his offer of really cool guild membership.

When the archer had vanished into the distance, ignoring Roka entirely, the cleric returned to reading over the forum. A character by the name of Sycorax was giving advice on PvP, the feature of the game that allowed players to combat one another in duels and death matches. Further down, a few people exchanged ideas on where some of the secret dungeons might be located, about whom the hidden bosses might be. The leading theory abounded about one called Abbadon the Scourge, who Roka could hazard a guess at being one of the main characters to feature in the game's extensive backstory. He figured that Gunnar would know all about him.

Almost on cue, the canine noticed Gunnar jogging up the dirt road, with the silhouetted form of Exra leaping along in great bounds beside him. The buffalo waved to him. "Hail, laddie! How fare the noble duties of our illustrious guild crier?"

"This blows chunks" replied Roka. "Nobody's even stopping. They don't want to be part of a guild full of nobodies like us."

Exra chuckled, "Don't let it get to you. Not every guild starts out as strong as Elite Force, after all."

"That's true, laddie. Remember," said the buffalo, "we have something that they don't."

"Holes in the floor of the guild hall?" said Roka.

Gunnar shook his head, "We have the might o' the twelve gods and the bravery of the dragon kings in our hearts!"

"Oh good" said Roka, "I thought it was going to be something silly for a moment."

The conversation was broken by the sight of another figure trotting along the road at speed, this one a hefty lizard. Roka thought for a moment that it may have been the same one that he had encountered in the cave with the spiders and the ogre, but the fluttering robe that it wore signified that he was a magic-user. For some reason that Roka couldn't quite put his finger on, the image of the snaggletoothed, green-skinned and heavily-muscled lizard decked out in a bright blue dress with sparkly stars splashed across it seemed rather amusing.

"Hey!" called Roka, "Join our guild? We're really cool!"

The lizard stopped. Pausing, he turned and stepped slowly over towards the Canine. "Well," he said, "I am looking for a guild. What achievements have you got?"

Roka glanced around. "We're really cool" he said, confidently.

The lizard nodded, slowly. "Have you completed the Frozen Wasteland guild mission and killed the Ice Dragon?"

Roka looked downwards. "We're really cool?" he said, less certainly.

The lizard frowned. "How about the Flame-born Cyclops of Thundergorge Pass? Killed him yet?"

Roka didn't lift his eyes. "We're really cool" he said, as if trying to convince him of it.

The lizard turned, and ran off into the distance, without even giving another reply.

"The lizard has a point" said Exra, "A guild of only three members is a pretty sorry state of affairs. If nothing else, we need at least five members before we can qualify to take part in any of the official guild events in the game."

"Ah, ya just need to put more enthusiasm into your work" said Gunnar. "Look, here comes another one. I'll show you how it's done!"

Roka turned to look at the new figure. At first, he thought it was another lizard, the powerful thick arms swaying in long and pendulous rhythm from the broad shoulders. But as the figure drew closer, he realised that the creature was far, far taller than a lizard could ever hope to be. The figure appeared to be like built like a mountain, its shoulders jutting in thick, crag-like arches. The texture on him was that of stone, and he towered over the trio by almost half their height.

The canine was stunned. It was a rock golem, one of the last races to have been added to the game. They were relatively rare, their inability to utilise many of the game's armour or weapon types making them far less flexible. They, like several of the other races, began their adventure on the other side of the game's vast continent, in a chilly mountainous region that was also home to several other races. Roka wondered what had brought this rock golem so far from his starting zone.

"Hail, swarthy adventurer!" called Gunnar, and Roka felt a little embarrassed. "You look to be the brave, fearless sort. Why not join us, a noble guild in pursuit of heroic travels and mythical journeys? Come, join us and your name will live beyond eternity!"

The rock golem lumbered forward, a few small flecks of gravel falling to the ground in its wake. The rock golem looked at the trio, his eyes a little dim. As he drew close, the cleric caught sight of a thin, flimsy looking bow strung over the creature's hip, accompanied by a thin quiver of arrows. The bow looked far too small for the massive bulk of the golem, and Roka could only imagine the creature firing it much like a musician playing a harp, if the musician were sixteen foot tall and made out of the side of a mountain.

Then, with the sound of slate grinding against shale (a feature unique to the rock golems), the golem said "U A GUILD? SURE I JOIN U!"

Roka wanted to rub his eyes. "You will?"

"YA I NEED GOOD GUILD" replied the rock golem. "I WANT 2 KILL DA DRAGUN!"

The cleric was not sure what to say.

Gunnar, though, stepped forward and patted the towering monolith on its shoulders, or as close to its shoulders as the buffalo could reach. "Fabulous!" he announced. "Then welcome aboard, our noble comrade. You will be an excellent companion to the team. What is your name?"

The golem blinked a few times, as if he had forgotten his own name, or perhaps was simply unsure why the buffalo could not read it as it hung above the golem's rocky head. "I BIGGIEBEAR" he said. "CAN I BRING MY PET TOO? HE IS GOOD."

A dull, grumbling sound echoed from behind the golem's crag-like bulk. Roka wasn't sure that he wanted to take a glance around the figure to see what might be lurking there. He inhaled, drew up his courage, and took a peek.

Behind the large golem sat an equally large, but altogether far less friendly-looking grizzly bear. Upon catching sight of Roka, it snarled, as if it had just caught sight of its next meal.