Author's Note: I have taken some liberties with the RuneScape timeline. For reference, this story takes place in Year 2 of the Sixth Age, and the player character is 24 years old.

The Max Guild did not exist when Prifddinas was reformed a year and a half ago.

It's astounding to see the lengths people will push themselves to for a fancy cape.

Then again, the word 'fancy' really isn't giving my creation enough credit.

It was hardly a novel idea. Dozens of groups, years and years before I was born, have offered pieces of clothing as an enticing reward. Pieces of combat equipment, symbols of status...or both, in some cases.

Over a hundred years ago, the wizards of the First Tower offered powerful (at the time) robes to their acolytes which colorfully displayed their chosen affinity. They were an incredibly prestigious symbol, announcing to the world that you were one of the rare few that could utilize magic.

Twenty years ago, the Legends Guild was founded, offering a jagged, white cape to their members. It was a rare honor to receive it. Those few who did wore it with pride, showing to their fellows that they were among the most powerful and skilled individuals of their time.

Ten years ago, various artisan guilds across Gielinor announced their collaboration to release their 'skill capes', which could only be worn by those who had proven their mastery of a craft. The capes became so popular that other groups and certain eccentrics started to create and hand out their own versions, such as Ignatius Vulcan, the 'pyro artist'. Personally, I found the announcement terribly exciting, and it was one of the main reasons why I was so eager to get off of Ashdale.

Four years ago, the TokHaar started offering their incredibly powerful capes of obsidian and magma to the rare few with the strength to claim them. I was the first person to ever outlast the scorching heat and endless waves of warriors, earning the respect of the ancient race.

You get the picture. Are you familiar with Daemonheim?

Right, the peninsula off the eastern coast of the Wilderness, the realm of infinite dungeons. The curse around Daemonheim as a whole prevents anything other than living, sapient creatures from going in or out. Anything else gets blocked by an invisible force - or disintegrated. That's common knowledge.

What isn't common knowledge, is that there are gaps in Daemonheim's curse. There are ways to slip through it, bringing items in or out. I will not be sharing them, so no fools get themselves killed trying.

Nearly two years ago, I managed to extract a certain item from Daemonheim. It was an extremely rare plant, found only at the deepest levels of the dungeons. It was an incredibly hard-to-grow plant, with blue leaves and yellow bulbs. The plant could be woven into an astonishingly sturdy cloth, which had outstanding magical conductivity.

But those were not the features that drew my attention. Bizarrely, the plant could change its own color and even create unique patterns, seemingly at random. During my experimentation with the plant, I discovered that its color-changing ability could actually be controlled. When I held it in my hand, it could somehow recognize the color and pattern I imagined it to be, and would change so accordingly. It didn't take me long to recognize the opportunities before me.

I named the plant spiritbloom, and started drafting plans for ways to use the cloth. Unfortunately, pressing concerns in the elven lands demanded my attention, and I had to leave the fascinating material alone for the time being.

A few days after Prifddinas was restored, I decided to turn my attention back to the spiritbloom. I approached the head of the Meilyr clan, who was a renowned explorer of the demon halls, especially so in regards to its unique flora. Lady Meilyr was intrigued with my discovery, and she agreed to help me investigate the possibilities further. Lady Meilyr was very old, however, and was not suited for combat, which we were sure to encounter. Seeking strength in numbers, I sought out a new friend of mine that I felt I could trust - Elen Anterth. An elven woman of prodigious talent, there was very little she could not accomplish. She could fight just as well as she could weave, cook, fletch, or craft.

She agreed to help without hesitation. I think she must have been rather excited at the prospect of a new adventure after centuries of being trapped within crystal.

One dungeoneering expedition later, we had amassed a significant amount of the spiritbloom - enough to experiment with for quite a while.

I'll spare you the full recounting. Lady Meilyr focused on finding a way to grow the spiritbloom outside Daemonheim. Elen focused on creating a spectacular set of magic robes, while I focused on something...a bit more artistic. The color changing capability captivated me, you see.

I never quite understood why it felt so easy to create the cape. I mean, spiritbloom is some seriously tricky stuff to work with - the fibers need a constant stream of magical energy during weaving - but it just felt natural. Like I knew exactly what I wanted and there was no way I wasn't going to get it. I was reminded of some advice a friend of mine, a gnome sculptor, gave me. The final product is already there, buried in the stone - you just have to bring it to the surface.

Working the spiritbloom was a wonderfully peculiar feeling. I had never felt anything quite like it before.

The finished product was magnificent. I chose to keep the blue coloration and replace the yellow with white, giving the cape a blue body with white, vertical stripes. It was sturdy enough to resist the edge of my knife, but flexible enough to bend and flow in the wind with grace. It was light, warm, and continued to change its appearance at my will.

However, when Lady Meilyr and Elen tried to wear it, they found it would not change color for them. The name of spiritbloom was more apt than I had originally thought - once the material, be it robes or capes, 'binds' to a wearer, it will not change color for anyone else, ever again. A product that is truly unique to the individual - there is nothing else like it in all of Gielinor!

So, I had found an amazing new material and a way to turn it into an amazing new item. What was the next step?

It took me a while to figure it out. I had an inkling of what I wanted, of course, but I needed the right...inspiration.

Have you ever heard of Maximillian Hulmes? He's a human man that lives in Varrock, goes by the name of Max. He is a talented man. Very talented, perhaps equal even to Elen or myself. Anyway, I bring him up because he was that spark of inspiration.

I was going through Varrock one day, doing some shopping, when I noticed him. Running around the city in full Torva armor, like usual. Max is always busy. It makes me wonder if he discovered the cure for sleep.

I watched him for a while, before I went up and talked to him. He gave me a quick glance, and then kept hammering out the sword he was making, talking as he worked. I asked him why he was always running around and working so hard. Basically, he said he wanted to be the most a man could be, and he wouldn't be satisfied till he was.

And then an epiphany came to me. In pursuit of being the most a man can be, Max works incredibly hard. But when you work at something, you get better at it. And when you get better, you see new heights - new goals to aim for. The best we can achieve - our maximum, if you will...is a fluid thing. It can rise with us.

Maximillian's drive for self-improvement borders on insanity, but I couldn't help but admire him a little...and feel sorry for him, too. He's never really going to enjoy his work if he keeps forcing himself through it with such a frenzied attitude.

Ahem. Philosophy aside, that's where I got the idea of the Max Guild. A place for people dedicated to reaching their maximum potential. A place where the most driven of people can flourish, and be rewarded and recognized appropriately.

Critics of the guild accuse it of fostering greed and arrogance. While I can't completely deny that, there's two things I would like to point out. Are you familiar with Dionysius? Colloquially known as the Wise Old Man. Yes, with the blue partyhat. He was a great hero, once. But that's changed.

I'm sure you're aware of his crimes. What most people aren't aware of is that he harbored a growing resentment against the world after he retired from adventuring. He felt like he wasn't recognized as a hero, he felt mistreated, that he deserved better than to live in a slum like Draynor. A lot of people don't realize that an important part of the Max Guild is to make sure our future heroes don't snap and resort to thievery and murder for satisfaction.

True. But that's a question for another day. Moving on...

The Max Guild works for all of Gielinor. I'd call it a humanitarian organization, but I don't know if there's an appropriate word for helping all races. Members of the Max Guild are among the most powerful and talented people on the entire planet, and we use our influence to better it.

When famine struck across all of Misthalin and Asgarnia, who built a farm on Lunar Isle and produced enough magically-grown food to feed a continent? We did.

Who rallied people all across Gielinor to fend off Tuska? We did.

Who continues to send warriors into Mazcab, to pacify the Airut threat once and for all? We do.

And most recently, when typhoons devastated the Arc islands, we were the ones who stepped in to provide the labor force needed to rebuild. We still have members there, helping collect commodities to jumpstart their economy.

Are we elitist? Yes, of course. And no, I'm not going to reveal the standards for entry, because they are entirely subjective. My criteria are vague and flexible, just like our work. Basically, to get in, you need to impress me.

Yes. It's something I'm looking into changing. The guild has grown far too large to be managed by one woman, especially someone as busy as me.

My final remarks? Hmm...

Well, I think the Max Guild was inevitable.

How do I mean? Just like the individuals that comprise them, civilizations and societies continually progress, as well. My predecessors built the Champions Guild, the Heroes, the Legends...this is the natural evolution.

Although, I doubt anyone is ever going to one-up the Max Guild.

My interview over, I deactivate my recording crystal and clasp my notebook shut.

"Thank you for your valuable time, World Guardian," I say. "It's been a great honor!"

My host shifts in her armchair after a sip of tea. "Not a problem. It was a little fun, even."

I take a sip of my own tea. It tastes unusual, but it's quite good. I settle back into my chair, sighing comfortably.

"You know, I have to say it again, your home is incredible. You really built all of this yourself?"

Allowing myself to calm down after such a nerve-wracking experience, I glance around the World Guardian's living room. All great heroes need a great secret base, and Ms. Luna's is amazing. Running water, sturdy walls, magical lighting, an astronomical observatory, a beautiful central garden with an enormous, hollowed-out treestump for all her favorite pets to live in...I have no idea how she found the time to construct such an intricate building by herself.

And she only allowed me a peek from above, as it is far too dangerous for the likes of me, but she has her own dungeon! She even said that she has her own pet dragons in there! Made of metal! What kind of woman can mention that so casually!?

"Thank you, Ilona, that's very kind. I do put a great deal of pride into it." Ms. Luna takes another sip of tea and sighs. "It's a shame I have to keep it hidden. I do love showing it off..."

As per our agreement, I was put into a state of magically-induced unconsciousness before being teleported to wherever Ms. Luna keeps her base. I would never betray the secrets of someone who I admire so strongly, but the World Guardian is not the sort of woman who can afford to take such risks.

The sound of Ms. Luna putting her cup down onto the table draws my attention again.

"So," she says, crossing her ankles. "When do you expect that this will be published?"

"An interview with you gets the absolute highest priority. It'll be available across the world within three days!"

She arches an eyebrow. "Really? That's quite impressive...the ways in which we can spread information really have vastly improved over the last few years." Suddenly, her face lights up and she snaps her fingers. "Oh, Ilona. I'd like to request a favor."

"Of course. What is it?"

"Would you deliver one to Benny Gutenberg, of the Varrock Herald newspaper?"

My host stands up and chuckles to herself. "Maybe it will inspire him. It's been nearly a decade since he's released a new issue." She bites her lip and frowns. "Well, not counting that business with the zombie dimension..."

Lady Ariane, my superior at the Wizard's Tower, had warned me of her friend's strange sense of humor. Nonetheless, I agree to her request.

"Of course. I'll make sure he gets the first copy! And, if I may add, I hope that we might do this again someday, once your reforms to the Max Guild are complete."

She smiles politely. "I'll consider it. Goodnight, Ilona."

"Goodnight, Ms. Lu-"

Wait, what? It's midday!

"Goodnight? What are you talking abo-" a sudden wave of nausea and drowsiness envelops my presence. My limbs go slack, and the teacup I was holding falls to the floor, tea spilling out onto the carpet. Wait, the tea...?

I can barely register Ms. Luna giggling and walking towards me, my senses distorted.

"Yep! Sorry, I drugged you with sleeping potion."

"Thatsh okay," I slur, eyelids beginning to close. "I undershtand...but, didn't you..."

I watched her make it - we drank the same stuff! Why hasn't she collapsed, too?

"My body is highly resistant to such things. I use it as a flavoring!"

The World Guardian laughs and shakes her head.

"Sometimes, I forget that when I have company over. It's kind of automatic at this point. Ask Ariane about it sometime, it's a great story!"

What kind of...woman...are...you...?

Darkness envelops me just after I feel the magical force of teleportation send me away.

A/N: My original idea for this story was a dark and sinister tale, where the World Guardian was a puppetmaster, manipulating the Max Guild into doing her will by continually updating the Comp Cape requirements.

I couldn't really get it to work, though. I couldn't come up with a scenario that would allow for sufficient suspension of disbelief. There's no reason she would need to hide.

Still, I want to work with some of the themes and feelings that the original idea had, so I'll probably be doing another short story for RuneScape soon.

All feedback welcome!