The Adventurers’ Guild Revisited

The Guild Structure

One of my fellow gamers called into question using medieval craft and merchant guilds as a model for my adventurers’ guild.

For context, the Adventurers’ Guild I first proposed would be placed in a region I developed for the Gygax 75 Challenge, specifically the town of Knight’s Haven. Earl Gareth, ruler of Bergarus Vale and founder of Knight’s Haven, used to be an adventurer himself, and wanted to harness the might of adventurers without creating an army. (Neither the King nor the neighboring Eastern Hegemony would take kindly to an army of experienced fighters, wizards, clerics, and thieves.) He therefore created an Adventuer’s Guild to help pacify and civilize the region without raising any hackles.

The Adventurers’ Guild replaced the technique in West Marches campaigns of giving the players a big map of mysterious locations and letting them pick which dungeon they were going to plunge into first. (West Marches, in turn, replicated the type of “campaigns” that Gygax et al. used to run.) It offered essential conveniences for that or any other type of campaign:

1. A way to present adventures with at least the illusion of choice.
2. A justification for players “leveling up” between adventures: they found teachers, sparring buddies, or what have you at the Guild.
3. A place to find other adventurers, especially in a West Marches campaign where the players can change from session to session.
4. A place to safely store loot rather than carry it around all the time.

Knight’s Haven had other features suitable for a home base¹, but those don’t concern us here.

A new Adventurer’s Guild or its replacement must include the four “conveniences” above.

Guilds in Anime

The Adventurers’ Guild trope comes at least partly from Japanese anime, and itself is probably based on Japanese adventure games. The key elements seem to be the following:

• Adventurers have a rank within the guild. Often this is a Roman letter: A for the best ranked members, F or G for new or chronically inept members. A few anime use “S” and optionally “SS” to denote legendary or mythic adventurers, the sort who can slay demon lords and topple kingdoms. Other anime have used metals – “copper” through “gold”, “mithril”, or “adamantine” – jewels, or monsters.

• Each guild chapter has a public quest board from which guild members select quests. Each quest has a minimum adventurer rank: an adventurer with, say, rank “C” can’t take quests for ranks “B” or “A”. Evidentily this prevents less capable adventurers from getting killed on jobs too dangerous for them.

• The guild has clerks or receptionists who register new adventurers, note that an adventurer has accepted a quest, and pay out the reward upon proof of quest completion. Often the clerks deal with mounds of paperwork, rude or violent adventurers. Sometimes the clerks, acting on behalf of the guild, buy valuable materials collected while on the quest.

• Occasionally high-ranking members do double duty as active or semi-retired adventurers and officers of the guild. Maybe they’re veterans keeping the young’uns in line. Maybe they’ve simply won enough trust with the guild that they’re included in the inner circle.

• The Guild Master runs the Guild. Usually the Guild Master is a former adventurer themselves, but sometimes he’s portrayed as a put-upon bureaucrat. Sometimes he has a right-hand man, but usually he works alone.

This setup inspired my original article on the Adventurer’s Guild. Apprentices were low-ranking or newly accepted members, Journeymen were the mid-range adventurers, Masters and Wardens the high-ranking members, and the Grand Master was the lone Guild Master.

Even two years ago I thought of replicating this structure exactly. Instead I though I’d look up what real guilds were like, and shoehorn adventurers into that. Upon reflection, while these stereotypical “adventurers’ guilds” are too modern and game-like, some elements are worth keeping:

1. Clerks and others to assist the Guild Master.
2. An inner circle of members who guide the Guild.
3. A selection of jobs that player characters can pick.

I’m of two minds about the rank structure. On one hand, if players can pick freely they may pick something far too dangerous for their current abilities. On the other hand, why offer something that dangerous? Also, players will probably protest at being rank F, even for a little bit.

This type of Guild needs both higher-level NPCs and reasonable adults in charge to rein in the excesses of more destructive player characters. But perhaps we can find another model that balance freedom and accountability.

Mercenary Companies

The person who prompted this post suggested that medieval mercenary companies might serve as a better model for Adventurers’ Guild. I’m dubious.

A Wikipedia article on the White Company, a famous mercenary company of the 14th century, offers us this:

The company was organised in lances of three men; a man-at-arms, a squire and a page. Of these, only the man-at-arms and squire were armed. These lances were organised into contingents, each under a corporal, who was often an independent sub-contractor. […] In addition to its military structure, the company had an administrative staff, usually Italian, of chancellors and notaries who managed the legal and contractual aspects of the company’s relationship with its employers, and a treasurer to handle its financial affairs.

So we have the following elements:

• teams of fighters, accompanied by suport staff
• contingents of teams led by a commanding officer
• an administrative staff including legal personnel, relationship managers, and an accountant

That sounds like a worthy candidate for a revised Adventurers’ Guild structure.

Except … the Adventurers’ Guild was meant to gather exceptional people without forming them into an army, since that would upset important people. (People with bigger armies.) I’ll keep the mixed teams and administrative staff, but the hierarchical organization of officers is, honestly, what constitutes a medieval (or modern) army.

A Flatter Guild

Perhaps the earlier article simply cleaved too closely to the structure of medieval guilds. Looking at it logically, a guild needs only three or four levels:

• Officers, in place of a single “Guild Master”, includes (for argument’s sake) a Commander, a Quartermaster, a Treasurer, and one or more Advocates to deal with legal and social matters. Or, for a more modern touch, a president, a vice president, a treasurer, a secretary, and an advisor. This is the “Inner Circle” of the guild, where decisions happen and problems get addressed, one way or the other.

• Enforcers, in place of “Wardens”, includes those with the physical strength and/or persuasive ability to keep the other members in line. This group may overlap with the “Leaders”, in whole or in part.

• Members, in place of “Journeymen” and “Masters”, includes most adventurers. Members have earned the Guild’s trust and can make use of the Guild’s services. Those who betray that trust repeatedly will get kicked out.

• Probationary Members (maybe), in place of “Apprentices”, for new adventurers who still need to prove themselves. Those who can’t perform or transgress the rules get kicked out. Privileges are limited.

Depending on the size of the guild, these roles may not be formal. In a small guild, everyone may simply know that the Old Man is in charge, Rurik is second in command, and Dara knows people in the city guard.

Instead of a large job board, the Officers simply announce jobs that have come their way. Depending on the job and the membership, they may ask for volunteers or simply pick who does what (like any business).

No Guild At All

Bret Devereaux, an ancient historian, wrote a series of blogs (1) (2) (3) about how “barbarians” in pre-Roman Europe structured their societies. Being primarily agrarian, the large landholders wield enormous power over the farmers, and collect “rent” in farm goods so that they can pay for things like horses, weapons, armor, and if needed mercenaries. They also acquire a retinue of warriors and other capable men through giving them “gifts” that entail social obligations. Should he need to go to war, the landholder (or “Big Man”) can call upon his retinue and his more capable tenant farmers to fight for him.

In an article about coinage and how pre-modern societies actually didn’t use coins all that much, the same author makes the point:

But the Big Man would probably rather ‘pay’ your adventurers differently. After all, remember that the Big Man is running a business which converts agricultural surplus (extracted in rents) into military power (men, horses, weapons, armor) and legitimacy (often conferred with extravagant gifts: jewelry and such). So while he could simply transact business and pay you in silver and send you on your way, it would be a lot easier to compensate you with what he has as well: he might gift you a sword or set of armor from his armory, or a horse from his stables.

That gift isn’t just easier for him, it comes with broader social implications which are also better for him and for you. Whereas payment in money might not incur any great obligation, the exchange of gifts here – you have solved a problem, he has given you something in return – creates a social obligation, a bond between you, especially if the value of the gift exceeds the value of the service. You are now obligated to help out again, in the future, should he ask, out of ‘gratitude’ for the ‘gift’ (and for such services, you will receive more ‘gifts’).

In other words, local lords will compete to recruit adventurers into their service, especially those with extraordinary or supernatural abilities. The same lords might consider adventurers a problem to be disposed of if they refuse to enter the lords’ service, or cause damage to the lord’s assets (like peasants and surrounding farms).

From this perspective an “Adventurer’s Guild” makes no sense. Why wouldn’t such powerful people simply work for the local lord, with time off to pursue interests like exploring ruins? Would so many capable “adventurers” exist that society would need to create an entire Guild for them? Wouldn’t lords and kings simply fold them into the existing social structure?

Naturally we’re talking historical precedents. In a fantasy world we can do what we want, as long as it has some sort of logic. But as I contemplate leaving D&D’s brand of fantasy behind for low magic swords and sorcery, perhaps I should consider multiple organizations rather than one all-encompassing “adventurer’s guild”:

1. One or more patrons who present the player characters with “quests”. (Naturally they want to bind the player characters into their service.)
2. Multiple schools of fighting, magic, and other adventuring arts where player characters can improve their skills (or at least justify why they have).
3. Numerous small, voluntary associations of monster-hunters and ruin explorers which the players can join (or form) for additional benefits.
4. A system of banks or temples where adventurers can store their loot.

Now someone can talk me out of other ahistorical tropes, like the city guard or religious tolerance.