Guild:Coven Of The Red Iris
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Coven Of The Red Iris [Gwen]
Coven Of The Red Iris [Gwen] | |
---|---|
Territory | America |
Language | English, sometimes gibberish |
Leader | Miss Mischa, usually |
Faction | Kurzick |
Type | PvE |
Guild Hall | Isle of the Dead |
Time zone | EST |
In 1776, on a cold winter's night, when Thomas Edison invented electricity while flying his kite over the Delaware River, three Long Islanders, having recently purchased the award-winning CORPG, Guild Wars Prophecies, sat anxiously in candlelight awaiting Konrad Zuse to be born.
Chilled by the rampant rumors that the British were coming, the three Long Islanders debated in secret, ironically over tea, as to which Faction they would support. Being tree-huggers, they chose Kurzick, as the British seemed a bit pushy, the Americans too scruffy, and the Luxons far too interested in turtles for their comfort.
As the American Revolution raged on over the next several decades, the three Long Islanders saw the ravages of PvP, the brutality of Sudden death, and its close cousin "Victory or Death!". It was then that the Long Islanders decided to dedicate their lives (and rez sigs) to PvE - for an Ice Imp feels no pain when you dance on its slain corpse. (Plus, it might have dropped something spiffy like a shiny vial of silver dye - both useful and cool-sounding when it drops to the ground: win-win.)
Having their play-style, more or less, thusly defined, the three Long Islanders spent the next 150 years or so thinking of names for their characters and guilds, and what professions they'd most like to play. Finally, in 1941, each with their newly purchased state-of-the art, fully programmable Z3's, the Long Islanders began installation of Guild Wars from their stack of punch cards. The installation took 64 years, and required a restart. Fortunately, during the time of installation, all the internets were invented by Al Gore, and in late 2005, the three Long Islanders were, at long last, romping around in Pre-searing.
Coven of the Red Iris was built by Miss Mischa as a small cottage where she could periodically vacation from the rat-race of being leader of a fairly large alliance, a job she shared with her fellow Long Islanders. When their former alliance collapsed under its own weight, Coven of the Red Iris fought multiple zoning laws to become a full-fledged Guild, and its membership quintupled over night. Today, membership and even leadership of [Gwen] fluctuates as it holds to its original concept as a place of quiet tranquility and comfort.
Although [Gwen] is the lead guild in its current alliance, that position is purely accidental in design; every guild in the alliance is intimately connected with one or more of those three Long Islanders (who have since upgraded to Z4's), and there is no lead guild in practice. Indeed, guild membership in the alliance fluctuates on the whim of the individual Guild leaders. To this day, the history of [Gwen] and the three Long Islanders is embodied for posterity in the cape design that heralds over the Isle of the Dead: a rising Phoenix on a black background, a triangle for the three Long Islanders, and red to match Mischa's hair.
Recruitment
We are maxed out, and not recruiting, so scram. That said, contact me. We can set you up... if you know what I means... New suit, nice shoes... yous can fit ins...
Guild Hall NPC's
- Xunlai Agent - I named her Agent Ex
Contact information
Not likely to reply to you: Miss Mischa
Might reply to you: Cora Weir
Will secretly laugh at you: Pip Squeak
Trivia
- The tag [Gwen] likely refers to Gwen's affinity towards Red Irises.
- Mischa hardly ever changes her armor. Eww, gross.
- Cora once destroyed a small solar system that might have been inhabited, we'll never know.
- Approximately only Mischa, of the (de-facto) guild members, have the God Walking Amongst Mere Mortals title.
- Mischa tramps herself about helping various alliances, guilds, and select people.
Update
Mischa has retired to Anvil Rock, dropping a long line with mild hopes of hitting water, let alone her hook and bait snatching more than an old summit boot. In her place, Sweet Ex. Best wishes to Sweet. (jeers and calamity all around)