Chapter Four Hundred Fifteen. The Adventurers Guild Returns.

Chapter Four Hundred Fifteen. The Adventurers Guild Returns.

"Do you remember where you were when you learned that the world was going to end? Maybe you didn't really believe it. How about the moment when the first System notification appeared, confirming that you had fifty days before the apocalypse?"

The screen faded from black to a view of a meadow, somewhere in the mountains, considering the snow-capped peaks in the background.

The camera panned and centered on a tall man with stylishly tousled black hair and warm green eyes.

"It didn't exactly come as a surprise to me," he said with a broad smile. "I've lived under the System for my entire life," He leaned forward and winked, "which is coming up on nine hundred years."

"But, I'm not here to talk about myself, which," he sighed theatrically, "is a shame, because I love doing that. For those of you who are unaware, my name is Yorrick Wrathsbane, High Seat Emeritus of the Warlocks Guild, President of the Terran Confederation, and I came to Earth from Thayland." His grin twisted into a smirk, "I guess I just can't help talking about myself, can I?" He shook his head. "Then again, my other cardinal sin is Pride." He raised his hands in surrender. "I know, I know, we're the evil empire," he sighed.

Yorrick gestured, and the camera pulled back as another man appeared beside him. Blonde hair cut short, piercing blue eyes, with a stern expression across handsome features that carried the echo of exhaustion.

"Luckily, the person I'm here to talk about it is beyond reproach," Yorrick continued. "While some of you may have been deprived of the opportunity to get to know about me, I doubt any of you haven't heard of Robert Whitman. The man who traveled to another dimension and returned to warn you of impending disaster. You all know his name, but you don't know his story." Yorrick's smile took on a touch of sorrow.

"I was asked by the Church of the System, The Old Guard, and the Endless to add my voice and my nation's resources to a project to teach the proper techniques for successfully delving Dungeons," Yorrick began. "I agreed because, despite the labels attached to my nation, we want nothing more than to see every single person live long, happy, productive lives. Those groups have gathered hundreds of memories of people being taught to delve by Robert Whitman, and they've used a complex ritual to create a sort of hologram of him that can interact with others and instruct them."

Yorrick shook his head in seeming wonderment. "I'm amazed at what they've accomplished, and honestly, outside of the Karcerian Empire's own methods, which I'm obviously biased towards, I can say that Robert Whitman is the best Shepherd I've ever witnessed. Their plan to bring a lot more Bob to the world can only be a good thing, but," he cautioned, "I don't think anyone should make an uninformed decision. So, in exchange for my nation's assistance, I stipulated that you know what you're signing up for."

"Oh, he's just gonna love this," Amanda sighed, not taking her eyes off the screen.

"Bob wasn't raised in the best environment," Yorrick began, and the camera blurred before focusing again, now showing Yorrick walking down the hallway of a clearly destitute apartment building.

"He grew up in Watts, in this apartment building," Yorrick explained, coming to a stop in front of a door and pushing it open, revealing the wreckage of an abandoned apartment. He walked instead, gesturing as he spoke. "This one-bedroom efficiency was his home for the first eighteen years of his life. He slept in the pantry," Yorrick pointed to an elongated closet without a door. "I wish I could tell you that despite the obviously cramped living conditions, his home was full of laughter and love, but we don't lie."Updated from novelbIn.(c)om

Yorrick waved his hand, and the empty apartment shimmered, then shifted. A battered folding table and two cheap plastic chairs appeared. A row of repurposed milk crates appeared against the far wall, loose pieces of dirty clothing and swatches of filthy fabric hanging out of them. Industrial hallway rugs had been raggedly cut and were nailed above the single window to act as window shades.

"This is where he grew up," Yorrick said sadly. "His mother suffered from addiction and, at sixteen, wasn't prepared to be a single mother. He often went hungry and was discovered eating out of the dumpsters at the local elementary school. It was more common for the apartment to be without electricity than for it to be working."

Yorrick turned and walked out of the apartment, stepping through the door as the camera blurred again, coming back into focus to reveal a non-descript hallway lined with lockers that could have been found in any inner city school in the United States.

"This is where Bob went to school," Yorrick explained as he continued walking. "I suppose it isn't surprising to learn that he didn't have any friends," he sighed. "No clean clothes, intermittent water for bathing, and being the only fair-skinned blonde no doubt drew the derision of his classmates." Yorrick pushed open a set of double doors at the end of the hallway, revealing a library. "He found solace here, in the library. Here, there was not only electricity, which meant that the lights worked, but it also had a small measure of climate control, and more importantly, it held worlds that a frightened, lonely boy could escape to."

Yorrick had continued into the library, and he reached down and pulled a book off the shelf, flipping it open to a seemingly random page before holding it up to the camera.

It was the Complete Illustrated Encyclopedia of Dinosaurs and the page it had opened to was dog-eared and creased, showing the image of UtahRaptor.

Looking down at the book, Yorrick spoke almost idly, in a lower tone. "How complicated is the weave of fate," he murmured. "How many threads had to align? So many moments where events might have otherwise conspired," he shook his head. "Billions of lives hung on the gossamer strand of fate that tied him so loosely to the world that showed him nothing but contempt."

Yorrick looked up, his green eyes alight with an eldritch glow. The camera lost focus again, then snapped back into place. A middle-aged woman was behind the counter, leaning against it, reading a novel. She looked up as a skinny boy, dressed in oversized, dirty clothes, perhaps eight years old, slipped through doors and quickly moved to the shelf, pulling the Encyclopedia from the shelf and clutching it to his chest as he scurried around the shelf, disappearing behind the shelves.

The image shifted again, and now Yorrick stood in a classroom, looking down at the blonde-haired child hunching over his desk as he read from a battered textbook before carefully writing in an even more abused notebook. The rest of the class was clearly talking to one another, although there was no sound, while the teacher at the front of the class stoically marked papers.

"Bob will be the first person to tell you that he isn't that smart," Yorrick said. "He'll claim that the only reason for his academic success was his willingness to, as he phrases it, 'Put in the work.'" He shook his head. "He's wrong, by the way," Yorrick disagreed. "Yes, he put in the work, and no, he wasn't gifted in any of the subjects that he studied. That doesn't mean that he isn't gifted."

Yorrick sighed. "I think we can skip the rest of his school years. Suffice it to say that while he learned to come to school early to take a shower and to do his laundry after school in the same shower, he never overcame the stigma from his earlier years."

"You know, I think Bob might rush to tier ten just so he can kick Yorrick's ass for this," Dave observed.

Yorrick was back at his desk. "Still, while that little speech held a taste of what could be, I think the next event is a better example."

The scene shifted, and the full splendor and glory of the Church of the Light appeared, with Voren and Annisa standing in front of Bob and four children, three of them dressed in patchwork armor, with the fourth wearing a suit of armor that was clearly brand new.

"Here we have Bob with his first group of freshers," Yorrick began. "Harbordeep wasn't a good place to be a commoner, especially a poor one. Those three," he gestured toward the group, "heard from Lady Wallenstair," he waved to Nora in her new armor, "that she was being shepherded, something she convinced Bob to do by virtue of simply asking him, and their parents rushed to have them accompany him, as he was the first official Shepherd to register in Harbordeep for decades." Yorrick grinned broadly. "Little did they know what they were getting themselves into."

The scene played out, Bob leading them down into the Dungeon, chastising them for not having weapons, before summoning clubs for the four teenagers. It was then that the audience was treated to Shepherd Bob, introducing everyone to what would become classic lines such as Always Be Killing! Strike, Move, Strike! As well as the first known explanation of the six rules of delving.

The view shifted again, and Yorrick was back in the mountain meadow. "This is what you're signing up for," Yorrick warned. "I've interacted with the construct they've created from the memories of Bob they've collected, and it is true to form. You're going to be driven to exhaustion and then pushed further. You'll internalize the rules, and the techniques he teaches you will become instinctive. I've seen the schedule, and you'll be delving for sixteen hours a day for three months." Yorrick smiled grimly. "You'll definitely be ready for a vacation when you're done, but I wouldn't be part of this if I didn't think that it would make people better, safer, delvers."

"The rest of Bob's time is fairly well documented. He built the first printing press on Thayland to make pamphlets explaining how to obtain and use Affinity Crystals, and when he became aware of Earth's pending integration into the System, he returned and began working tirelessly to save as many people as he could." Yorrick's smile broadened, brightening. "He ended up involving our favorite Dragon, the then King of Greenwold, and the now Emperor of Thayland, who is second only to Bob himself in terms of credit due for saving everyone on Earth. The Empire, of course, comes in a close third," he continued, casually buffing his fingernails against his jacket. "Not content with getting the ball rolling, he kept looking for ways to help. He built Dungeons and erected the first skyscrapers on Thayland to house the people who would delve them, all while offering whatever expertise he could to the leaders of Earth's nations."

The mountain meadow disappeared, replaced by the cold white of the top of a glacier. "He didn't limit himself to the governments of the world," Yorrick continued, his voice present, although he wasn't visible.

The view turned and revealed tens of thousands of men on top of the glacier setting up tents. It turned further and revealed an open portal, through which a hospital bed was wheeled through, before coming to rest in front of Bob, who began casting a ritual, which, when completed, restored the patient on the bed, regrowing his missing legs and arm. As soon as the ritual was complete another bed arrived with another patient.

"Seventy-eight hours," Yorrick said, respect evident in his voice. "This was the first event I became aware of that showcased Bob's gift. He kept casting rituals, one after another." The scene sped up, the stream of patients a blur with Bob as the only unchanging figure. "Two thousand seven hundred and sixty-two rituals," Yorrick continued. "At the same time, higher tier priests of the Church of Light only managed five hundred."

Yorrick was back in his classroom. "I couldn't do that," he said flatly. "I want all of you to understand the gravity of that statement. I am tier nine, and I've been working ritual magic for eight centuries, and I can't do that." He shook his head. "During one of our worst tides, I kept a ritual abjuration shield over Karce going for nineteen hours. That's the longest recorded time in the history of the Empire." He stared directly into the camera. "Bob doesn't think he's special," Yorrick said flatly. "Due to his upbringing and what he's suffered throughout his life, he can't see his own worth. Because of this, when you accept instruction from him, he will expect from you what he expects from himself. I'm here to tell you that Bob is special." He sighed. "The only flaw I've seen from Bob's instruction is that people come away from it trying to be Bob."

"Why have I told you all of this?" Yorrick asked. "Because you need to know just who you're going to be learning from. I have nothing but respect for the Church of the System, the Endless, and the Old Guard, but the people who are going to be in charge of this effort don't actually know Bob. I do, and I'm proud to say I consider him a friend. They would have you believe that he's some sort of saint, a living legend."

Yorrick smiled sadly. "While he does live up to the legend, he's just a man. A good one, and as far as I'm concerned better than what the world who treated him so badly deserves. He has his faults, and he makes mistakes. I took part in this because Bob is my friend, so I could tell you his story. Don't idolize him. It's the last thing he wants. Instead, remember his most recent message to the world. Be kinder. Be better. Make this world a kinder, better place for everyone. Because that's what Adventurers do."

"Strewth, he's not wrong on that," Jessica observed. "I'm good for about a dozen rituals back to back before I need to bunk off for a couple of hours."

"I was there," Mike grunted. "He just. Kept. Going," he shook his head. "He kept casting until the last critical case was handled, then he fell into his inventory, and I'm assuming here, slept for two days."

"I have to agree with Yorrick," Erick mused. "I thought Bob was just very focused, but it's more than that."

"When he decides to do something, he's unstoppable," Bailli said firmly. "It doesn't matter how much he has to hurt himself, he won't quit."

"People who have learned from the shepherds who learned from him have the highest survival rate ever," Eddi said quietly. "I mean, Harbordeep was bad, but honestly, Earth is kind of worse. The knowledge is available, but a lot of people watch Dungeon Runners on YouTube and learn all the wrong lessons. That's why we decided to do this. Bob can't stop to teach billions of people how to delve, but we can sort of 'borrow' him, you know?"

"How is it going to work?" Amanda asked.

"The Endless, the Church, and the Confederation are all going to spend the crystals to open the Adventurers Guild here on Earth," Eddi explained. "We're going to schedule delves as a Guild in order to Shepherd people in places where you can do that, and the Terran Confederation is going to dedicate ten percent of their Dungeon delves to the Adventurers Guild, which will help. For people who don't have anything tying them down, we can bring them to Thayland." Eddi grinned. "Yorrick worked it out with the King, and in exchange for half the crystals we pull, he's having fifty Adventurers Guilds built on one of the other continents, with the expectation that we'll take up half the delves of the Dungeon in that area."

"That's huge," Dave muttered.

"We think Bob will only be cranky for a couple of days," Wayna shrugged. "He's all about helping people, so he'll come around quick enough."

"I wanted to show him the video before it went live, but he ran off," Eddi grumbled.