Warriors are the backbone of any kingdom's defense. They are strong, brave, loyal, and aggressive. They prefer to fight with sword and shield and will seek out the best armor available.

Warriors are recruited from the Warriors Guild. Each guild can support up to four warriors at a time. When deemed necessary, the Sovereign can have the guild "Call Assembly". This summons the Warriors back from their travels so that they may aid the kingdom. When the kingdom is at peace and there are no adventures to be had, the Warriors can be found swapping stories and sharpening their swords at the guild .

Below is the transcript from the last meeting of Warriors Guild Local 349.

 

The Warrior's Tale

Cyrus the Determined strode into the room, helmet in hand. The plates of his well-worn armor clanked as he approached the three men awaiting him in the Warriors' Guild meeting hall. Cyrus boomed a boisterous greeting, driven by his barrel chest.

"Ho, Phildar! Wellim. Ardin. I'd given the lot of you up as Troll chow – ha-HA!!! Well lads, since you're all here, this gathering of the Warrior's Guild is called to order!" Cyrus was a dedicated veteran, having seen many a conflict and scandal. As the Guild's senior member, it was up to Cyrus to manage the guildsmen when they were called upon.

"I can tell you're all wondering why you were called back from the frontier. Well, the Sovereign needs us for a special task." They'd heard Cyrus use that phrase many times, but its meaning was never the same. It could mean the Kingdom was on the verge of being overrun by vast legions of Undead, or it could just mean some peasant saw a single Goblin and gave the Sovereign the jitters. Regardless of the actual severity, the Sovereign's Warriors were duty-bound to respond.

Cyrus continued, "People have been disappearing on the outskirts of town. These aren't your run of the mill "lost in the woods" incidents. There's a sinister element at work."

Wellim drew his sword and jumped to his feet. "What-HO!" he exclaimed. Wellim always let his enthusiasm get the best of him. Cyrus calmed him down with a disapproving glare, then continued.

"We found tracks, charred ground, and wind-damaged trees. But all doubt was cast aside when the local Rangers reported discovering some Dragon spoor."

The response from the group was a mix of excited chatter and knowing groans. Wellim's eyes gleamed with the excitement of a new, impending challenge. Phildar the Proud, newest to the guild, raised his hand.

"Good Sir Cyrus, a question. We total four brave and strong Warriors. What chance would a single dragon have against such a mighty force?"

Cyrus paused for a second, unsure of how to respond. "What chance would a puny lil' house-sized, fire-spitting lizard who's older than the gods themselves have against four men with pointed metal sticks?" Cyrus looked into Phildar's eyes and saw the enormity of their undertaking start to take hold in the young warrior's mind. Cyrus let the question drop, as the answer was obvious to all assembled.

"Good fellows, we need to act swiftly and hit this dragon hard. Cast aside any illusions you may have of this being easy. If you've got any gold left to your name, then by the gods, get out there, sharpen your weapons, and beef up your armor. And try not too get distracted on the way…" Cyrus glared at the Ardin the Swift. Ardin's penchant for indulging in Elven vices was known throughout the village and had jeopardized more than one of the Guild's past operations.

"This should be a creature fight, fair and square. No magic involved. If we stay cool and fight with our heads, we can beat this thing. We always deliver our best for the Sovereign, so it's time to get out there and do it again. We'll gather at noon, tomorrow, by the Blacksmith's."

Four swords flew from the scabbards and were held aloft, touching one another in a Guild salute. The next day they would do what they do best: put their life on the line for the Sovereign and the Kingdom.