[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/nrLCuDB.png[/img][/center] [center][h3]December 7th, 2018. Cleftland Kingdoms City of Arokan The Fang Family Guild Hall, 3:00 PM.[/h3][/center] [hr] Sunshine was rare these days, and you could swear the weather was just like it was in the real world. Even the crisp smell of cold that would fill your lungs on a dry winter day seemed to make its way into the not-so-virtual world. The most amazing thing, at least in the opinion of Parks, was that the eerie silence that fresh snow brought had been included. All of that was just earlier though, now he was in a guild hall, warm and comfortable with a mug of hot chocolate. The hall itself was bustling, with its impressive 85 members all helping set up for the meeting. It wasn’t every day that the Fang Family had guests such as these gathered in their living room! But this was no ordinary hall, it belonged to one of the most prominent helping guilds in the city lead by MamaFang. The North Wen Alliance chose to eat lunch and discuss the current problems here for many reasons, but the most pressing was the fact that the low level delivery quests were being abused the most. This guild mostly consisted of low level players and a few victims of the banditry. It of course didn’t hurt that MamaFang was one of the best chefs in town, but that was secondary. At the head of the table sat Parks, not because he was in charge of things, but because he got there early to ensure he got that chair. He had sent out messages to various adventurers and guild leaders alike along with other guild members in order to once again gather the North Wen Alliance. Not everyone responded but enough did to constitute a delightful feast. He was currently waiting for the food to come out, a small fairy flitting about by his shoulder and fixing his hair. It had to be perfectly messy, organized chaos. He oh so wanted to talk to everyone, he was even shifting in his seat with anticipation! Though, from the looks of it, he was the only here other than MamaFang and she seemed busy for the moment, so he chose to just drum his fingers on the table and wait. Impatiently. Tappity tappity tap. He was done with this already. Scrawny arms pushed himself away from the table. The chair he had chosen was much too large for him, and his feet couldn’t even reach the floor in it so it was all his arms doing the scooting. He hopped down to the floor to speak, but the doors to the guild hall flew open. A man in shining platinum armor stood in the doorway with a wanted poster in one hand and a handcuffed Fox Tail in the other. He shook his head, silver hair cascading over his wolf ears and shoved the man’s chest onto the table. [color=silver]”I caught this one pestering some low levels outside the city for their delivery bundles. The mule was dead but I decided NOT to kill him. He is grateful for this. Right?”[/color] He spoke in an authoritative tone, leaning in to the man’s ear and inhaling deeply. [color=silver]”I SAID HE IS GRATEFUL FOR THIS. IS THIS ASSUMPTION CORRECT?”[/color] He spoke like he was still in the military, and to be honest, the way he ran his guild was just about as close as you could get. The man on the table nodded, near tears. He tried to choke some words out but Captain Ragar twisted his arm until he shut up. [color=silver]”Sorry to bring a guest to lunch, I just thought having him here would be fortunate. Remind us of the scum we promise to clean up.”[/color] He gave a nod to Parks who pulled his chair forward with a huff and sat back down, crossing his legs in the chair designed for none other than MamaFang herself. The little fairy fixing his hair clapped her hands and gave a triumphant smile before flying into the orb on his staff that currently leaned against the table. He waved back to Ragar. [color=LimeGreen]”Sir Stormfang, what [i]ever[/i] would we do without your heroic work. I do enjoy dining with PKers as much as you might guess so I would have left him in the cathedral.”[/color] Parks chuckled and drang some more of his hot chocolate. He had grown accustomed to everything being a bit too big so using too hands was so close to not looking goofy to drink from the mug. He set it down gracefully and rose to sit on his knees, now looking a little less short. A king had to be respectable!