Guildmaster Rel
It was mid-afternoon when I left the Accommodation Centre and joined the bustling crowds in the streets of Oakreach. The weather was glorious, the sun’s heat made rather pleasant by the gentle breeze that drifted through the town. It carried the scent of baked bread and cooked meats, making my stomach rumble.
Real food...
I paused for a moment and closed my eyes, tilting my face up towards the sky. I took a deep breath and let it all soak in. After weeks in the Tower, it felt incredible.
No enormous graveyards with zombies. No roots trying to strangle me. No demented demons trying to mind control me so they can do unmentionable things with their whip.
Instead, I was surrounded by decent people, by laughter and conversation. Such things might sound mundane, but believe me – spend two weeks mindlessly farming in the Tower and you’ll start appreciating the little things.
I was a few streets away from the Oakreach Arms when I noticed the first sign that something was wrong. A group of Trialists, easily identifiable by their air of douchey arrogance, swaggered past me. Their armour was polished to the point that it was obnoxiously dazzling under the sun, and they carried so many weapons that they could've personally equipped a small army.
That wasn’t unusual in Oakreach. It was home to the Tower of Potential, after all.
What was unusual was the fact they were all wearing a tabard, the white of the fabric as pure as fresh snow.
And on that tabard was an emblem..
A blue wizard’s hat with shimmering silver stars.
That couldn’t be good.
I reached out and grabbed the one closest to me by the arm, the sudden and unexpected movement making him flinch. It only took him a moment to remember that he was supposed to be an arrogant prick, and he whirled on the spot to face me, yanking his arm free.
“How dare you lay a hand on me?” he snapped, with all the menace of an agitated chihuahua.
He was a little taller than me, his hairless head covered in sickly green scales that made me think of poison. His eyes were narrow slits, the pupils a deep amber in pools of black.
I stared blankly at him.
His eyes drifted up to my hair. Then down to my peasant garb.
They widened in recognition.
“Ma- Master Pete,” he said, taking a step back and giving a little bow.
I continued to stare.
“I’m very sorry for how I spoke to you. If I’d realised who you were, I’d never have dreamed of doing such a thing!” he said, the words firing from his mouth like a machine gun. “Have you come to see Guildmaster Rel? He said you’d be returning soon to deliver a lecture on stat gains to the new recruits.”
Guildmaster Rel?
New recruits?
A lecture?
Oh shit.
“Is he in the Oakreach Arms?” I asked.
The scaly Trialist nodded eagerly, clearly relieved that I’d overlooked his dickish behaviour.
“Yes, Master Pete,” he said. “Although it’s no longer called the Oakreach Arms. It’s now the Guild Hall of The Order of Rel.”
The Order of Rel…
For fuck’s sake.
I turned and left without another word, moving at an awkward pace somewhere between a walk and a jog. I soon slowed again, staggering to a halt when the building formerly known as the Oakreach Arms came into view.
Stretched between two of the upper windows was a giant banner.
It had a portrait of Rel on it. He stared off into the distance, his eyes narrowed as if deep in thought. His wizard hat rested on his head, and he gripped a very impressive staff of twisted black wood in his paw.
Emblazoned in an elegant silver script were the words: ‘The Order of Rel’.
A familiar sense of dread settled on my chest.
* * *
“Master Pete!” said Kaelis, his face breaking into a lighthouse beam smile as I stepped through the door. He raced over, bowing as he reached me.
“Kaelis,” I said, grinning. “It’s good to see you again!”
I reached out a hand to clap him on the shoulder.
He went hurtling through the air and crashed into one of the tables.
Shit!
I ran over and awkwardly helped him to his feet. I brushed fragments of broken wood off his The Order of Rel tabard.
“Sorry,” I said, shrugging apologetically. “It’s been a few weeks since I’ve had to hold back.”
I glanced at the wreckage that had once been a rather nice table and cleared my throat.
“I’m just glad it was you and not some random guy,” I continued. “That could’ve been… messy.”
Kaelis waved a hand dismissively, as if I’d done little more than accidentally bump into him as we passed on the street.
“Your training was a huge success, Master!”
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“It was,” I agreed, then frowned. “Wait, how do you know it was a success?”
“You mean other than the fact you just bitch slapped me across the room by patting me on the arm?” he said, with a hesitant smile.
“Kaelis,” I said slowly, “did you just say something funny?”
There was a sudden flush to his blue skin.
“Grandmaster Rel told me I needed to stop being so uptight, so I took a little inspiration from you,” he said, then – presumably in an attempt to change the subject – quickly added, “The leaderboard, Master! Have you not checked it recently?”
I stared at him for a few moments, feeling like a proud father who’d just watched his son graduate.
They grow up so fast…
Then his words sank in.
How the fuck had I forgotten to check the leaderboard?
More than a little excited, I opened the interface. My grin widened as I swiped through the tabs.
Acquired wealth: #13
Not bad at all. Clearly my looting spree had paid off.
Literally.
Kill score: #272
I wasn’t so proud of this one. Shoutout to the yellow dickhead I’d impaled with his own swords.
Reputation and influence: #74
Huh. I guess word of the whole ‘I’ll rip their fucking hearts out’ thing got round. All the ‘Master Pete’ shit I’d been hearing recently probably contributed too.
Not that I’d ever admit it to him, but I was pretty pleased to see Rel had moved up to #1. I guess he was a pretty big deal these days, being a guildmaster and whatnot.
The moment of truth…
Total stat gains:
- Peter Brookes
- Lokta’Inif
- Tolar Wise Claw
- Tog Tog
- Malior
Fuck, yeah! Peter Brookes – top of the food chain.
I may or may not have done a little jig. Kaelis, ever the gentleman, immediately became very interested in a nearby piece of furniture. Perhaps he was worried that watching his Master dance like a four-year-old who’d just been told it was snack time might alter his opinion of me.
Once my dignified and not-at-all immature celebration ended, I glanced at the list again, my eyes widening.
Where had Rel’s name gone?
He’d moved down to #9.
I supposed all things came with a price. He’d moved to first on the reputation and influence table, but fell behind on the stat gains.
I was just about to close the interface when I realised I’d missed an important category.
Perhaps the most important one.
I took a deep breath and swapped to the final tab…
Fashion sense: #1238
I’d climbed over three thousand places!
“Kaelis,” I said, closing the interface. “Today is a very good day.”
* * *
Once I’d finished explaining – in detail – that any day now, peasant chic would take the fashion world by storm, Kaelis said he’d give me a tour of the Guild Hall.
I’ve got to admit that I was pretty impressed by what they’d done with the place in only two weeks. The main area by the bar had pretty much stayed the same, with several polished tables filling the space. Kaelis said that Derek and his wife still ran the place, providing drinks and meals for the guild members. I was very pleased to hear that. I’d thought about their stew more than once while chewing through my rations in the Tower.
The real changes could be seen in the adjoining rooms. I came to an awkward stop as we stepped into the first one, a dozen heads turning to stare at me and Kaelis.
It appeared to be some sort of mini lecture theatre.
At the front of the class, a rather short yet undeniably majestic-looking being stood on a desk. He was around three feet tall, dressed in flowing robes of deep purple. His long, very wizardly beard reached his stomach, the white hair a stark contrast to his charcoal skin. He wore a magnificent hat of the same colour as his robes – one that would give Rel’s a run for its money. In his hand was a thin stick, which he was using to tap the board behind him with alarming enthusiasm.
I ran my eyes over the diagrams and symbols scrawled across the board and was instantly reminded of all the scrolls I’d seen.
Rel had started a school for magic…
We closed the door and moved on to the next room.
This one was even more outlandish. It too looked like a small classroom, with a dozen or so empty seats angled towards a large board at the front. It was the diagrams on the board that were truly bizarre. It only took the briefest of glances to know that Rel had been involved in their creation.
Written at the top of the board – underlined several times – were the words: Durability 101.
It was some sort of ‘how-to’ list of the most fucked up and gruesome ways to get injured. All the images appeared to involve jungle creatures and trolls, so presumably it was ‘beginner-friendly’ training advice for Floor One and Floor Two.
There was one diagram in particular – presumably inspired by me – that caught my attention. It was of a person dangling limply, their entire head jammed into a bear’s mouth. Fortunately, there was a big red cross drawn rather emphatically next to it. As Kaelis’s eyes drifted over the diagrams, he shook his head and sighed wistfully, as if recalling fond memories.
Rel had created a monster.
Speaking of Rel – the next room we entered happened to be his office. I say office, but the chair he sat on looked far too much like a throne for comfort.
He looked up when we stepped inside..
“Pete!” he squeaked excitedly, hopping onto the large, ornate desk in front of his chair. He caught himself, cleared his throat, and immediately resumed a dignified air. “It’s good to see you again.”
I had no interest in appearing dignified and instead ran over to scoop him up into a hug. A very big, manly hug with lots of back patting. He huffed indignantly, but I knew he loved it.
Even if it was very deep down.
“I’ve missed you, buddy!” I said. “The Tower was nowhere near as fun on my own. Speaking of which, we have a lot to discuss!”
Then I noticed the banner hanging on the wall behind Rel’s chair. It was the guild emblem on a white background with The Order of Rel written above it in elegant script.
“But first,” I said, shaking my head in amusement, “why the fuck have you started a guild? I didn’t even know that was possible.”
Rel glanced back at the banner, a rather satisfied smile on his face. Then he shrugged casually, as if starting a guild were no big deal.
“Well, when Kaelis and I returned to the Oakreach Arms,” said Rel, “the story of how we’d dealt with those dickhead Trialists had spread - the guy you spared had apparently taken it on himself to make sure of that. A crowd of remarkably well-behaved Trialists was waiting for us, begging to be taken on as disciples.”
“And I’m sure it took a lot of convincing before you finally agreed?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “But why bother? What do we actually gain from having a guild?”
“What can I say? It would be cruel to deny my wisdom to those who seek it,” Rel said, swishing his tail regally. “But it works out rather well for us too. Running a guild is one of the easiest ways to climb the rankings for reputation and influence. Galaxy Showdown also involves numerous team events. Guild members who qualify are automatically placed on the same team."
“That sounds pretty good,” I admitted. “But be honest with me, buddy – you just wanted an excuse to have some banners made, didn’t you? Enormous fucking banners featuring a portrait of you in your wizard hat.”
He stared at me for a few moments.
“No comment.”
“Master!” said Kaelis excitedly, rescuing Rel from my response. “You still need to join the guild! Grandmaster Rel promised the members you’d deliver a masterclass on stat gains. They’re all very excited.”
“Did he now?” I replied slowly. “I suppose I could do that, but on one condition…”
Rel’s eyes narrowed.
“What might that be?” he asked, suspicion thick in his voice.
“That we have a little chat about the guild’s name,” I said. I could feel my lips trying desperately to curve into a smile as my eyes drifted up to the banner, but I summoned every ounce of my incredible willpower to maintain a straight face. “Make that two conditions. I think we might need to design some new banners too…”
* * *
Rel has invited you to join the guild:
The Order of Pete and Rel
Do you accept?
Yes.
You have been promoted to Co-Leader.
* * *
Once Rel had finally stopped giving me the silent treatment, I filled him in on what I’d been up to over the past two weeks. He perked up considerably when I mentioned that other Trialists in our Cluster had reached Floor Eight.
He hopped onto the table once more, apparently no longer pissed off that I was sharing his spotlight with the guild stuff.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” he squeaked impatiently. “Let’s go!”
“Fuck, yes!” I roared, getting up so quickly that the chair I’d been sitting on launched backwards and shattered against the wall.
The wall didn’t fare much better.
I cleared my throat.
“I’ll pay for that,” I said.
As my thoughts turned to my newly acquired wealth, I remembered something.
Something very important.
“Rel, old buddy,” I said. “I brought you back a little gift from the Tower.”
A scroll appeared in my hand.
Rel’s eyes widened and he launched himself across the table, executing a rather impressive drive-by yoink before landing elegantly on the floor. He removed the ribbon and unrolled the scroll reverently.
Cast Spell: Nature’s Fury
“Ohh…” he said softly. “Now we’re talking.”