After many long years of strife, the world has settled into a tenuous balance. Great fortified city states dominate the human lands. In the vast wild woods, the Elven tribes maintain their traditionally styled holdings. Deep under the mountains the dwarves build their great kingdoms. And wandering tribes of gnomes traverse the unclaimed wilds. Beyond the control of these relatively peaceful allies, the world is overrun by ferocious creatures, the descendants of those who were pulled into our world during the merging.
During the merging all the realms of existence were fused together for an eternal instant. The stress was too great and the realms separated, but not completely. The remnants left behind in other realms hold all the realms together, merging and dividing like oil and water mixed.
The chaos left by the merging nearly destroyed all civilized life on the world. Villages were forced to fend for themselves, and all too often were not up to the task. Children wandered the wilds, lost and crying for their slain parents. Famine spread, and communication between cities was all but impossible. All seemed lost, until a group of fighters began the first guild. Dedicating themselves to the protection of the town they called home, this guild soon became the last hope of stability in a torn region. The success of the first guild spurred the founding of others. Eventually, the guilds brought the chaos under control, and civilization began to recover. They have since become the most powerful and respected group of organizations in the world. However, each guild is independent and reliant on its client base. Therefore, no individual guild can effectively rule more than a small district.
The competition to join a guild is intense. The largest and most famous guilds only accept applicants who have proven they excel at their role. Most large guilds recruit from smaller guilds. The smaller guilds are almost as selective, looking for the most skilled initiates available.
In the largest cities, training academies allow those interested in joining to prepare for years before being old enough to apply. Graduates of these academies are almost guaranteed to be selected for a guild. Students are trained in one of several skill sets, called classes, to fulfill a specific role during combat. Fighter classes include Warrior, Archer, and Scout skillsets. Mages and Summoners exemplified the Magic course. At one time, Necromancers would have been included in that group as well, but most of the schools had banned all teaching of that class. Finally, Priests, Monks, and Druids are grouped as Spirit classes. The rarest group of skillsets are known as Hybrid Classes. These classes combine the traits of two or more classes to create something new. The most widely known Hybrid classes are the Paladins, Warlocks, and Hunters.
These academies are known as Schools of Warcraft.
Beginning:
"Oi! You lot! Freshmen! Get yourselves over here!"
The noise and commotion of the courtyard could not cover the shouted command. The instructor, long accustomed to being heard over the sounds of battle, quickly gathered the newest students of the Green Key school of Warcraft. Located in the small fortified town of Black River, the school was known to produce highly skilled graduates of many classes. Supported by a coalition of guilds, the Green Key School is an archetype of a general school. The instructors and staff are dedicated to fulfilling their school's motto: "Producing Future Keys for Victory"
"All right, Freshmen!" called Instructor Ericson, a scarred barrel-chested old Warrior who had long since retired from his guild to pass his knowledge on to the next generation. "We've finished evaluating your entrance exams. You'll find your names on the boards beside me. Most of you are either in the Combat or Magic classes. The few of you who were identified as being hybrids have been placed with the class most suited to your early development. Combat classes are in the barracks," he said, gesturing toward the imposing fortress like structure to one side of the school's fortified grounds, "And Magic classes are in the Tower." Another gesture, this time to the soaring tower visible from miles around. "Those of you listed for spirit classes need to go to the Temple." The temple was smaller the either the barracks or the tower. It looked like a four-sided pyramid that had two steps cut into its sides. At the four corners of the second level, large obelisks stood. Each reached the same height as the third levels peaked roof. "Find your name then find your class. Lessons start in thirty minutes. Get Moving!"
Thomas Walker did not hesitate to follow the instructor's order. At six feet two inches he was almost half a head taller than most of the newest first-year class. Dressed in his loose cloth pants and a white linin shirt under a brown leather vest, and a simple woven cap over his shoulder length dark brown hair, it was obvious he was not one of the wealthier enrollees. Anyone curious would likely, and correctly, place him as the son of some smith or farrier, as told by his muscular shoulders and the noticeable burn mark upon his vest. His plain rounded face was almost unremarkable, except for his strange eyes. Most would label them as hazel, while others would claim silver. Of the two, the latter would be closest, but not entirely correct. At times, mostly during times of emotional distress, they would briefly change colors. Sometimes fiery red, artic blue, emerald green, snow white, or royal purple, would pass through his iris. Most times the color would be just a flash, gone before it truly registered on the observer. However, the most dramatic displays would last seconds, with the color sometimes seeping in toward the pupil or the reverse, or sliding in from the edge in a single line of advance. This trait had itself become a source of stress in his life. There were times when his mother would see the shift in his eyes and tremble, as if they were flags that foretold a terrible fate awaiting her son. Meanwhile, the other children in the small village, and his sisters, had found endless amusement in tormenting Thomas to get a glimpse of the remarkable transformation. This had given Thomas' personality two very pronounced traits, a very stoic demeaner, and a driving desire to leave the small island his family called home as far behind himself as possible.
When Thomas had declared his intention to enroll at the Green Key School his father had scoffed at the idea. "There are degrees of foolishness in nearly every action," said his father, "And you've set course to gather as much as possible. I respect the guilds and the role they play in our lives, but why pay for one of those fancy schools? I'm sure I can get you an apprenticeship at any time. And if you're going to pay, why choose that school? I know of at least three other schools that are closer, and cheaper to boot."
Thomas' mother had then taken his father out of the house. When they returned nearly an hour later, there were tear stains on her cheeks and his father was subdued and distracted, as if in shock. Thomas never learned what his parents had discussed, but on the day that Thomas took the boat to the mainland to begin his journey, his mother handed him a purse of coins larger than Thomas had thought his family owned. "Thomas, I've never told you this, but my grandfather's father was a member of a guild. He set these coins aside to help the next member of the family who wanted to join. But I, and everyone between us, felt it was too dangerous a path to take." Pulling Thomas into her embrace, she whispered in his ear, "I love you, and I'll pray you return home to us safe." When Thomas looked back at his home from the boat that was to take him away, he saw his mother in his father's arms as they and his sisters all watched the boat sail toward the horizon.