The Duelist’s Guild
Over the last fifty years, dueling became a source of great controversy. Some Nations were beginning to take steps toward outlawing it altogether. But in the winter of 1644, three men—each the owner of a fencing academy—met in a dark room and signed a pact in their own blood. They approached the kings of their respective countries and shared their vision. The monarchs approved the agreement, and the Duelist’s Guild was born.
The Duelist’s Guild is just like any other of Théah’s Guilds: you cannot become a blacksmith without joining the Blacksmith’s Guild and you cannot be a duelist without joining the Duelist’s Guild.
The laws regarding dueling in Théah are complicated, but can be summed up as below:
• Only a member of the Duelist's Guild can challenge someone to a duel.
In other words:
• If you want to challenge someone to a duel, you must either be a Duelist or hire a Duelist.
• If you challenge someone to a duel and you are not a Duelist, local authorities will try to arrest you.
• If someone challenges you to a duel and they are not a Duelist, you should report them to the authorities. Members of the Duelist's Guild make themselves available, of course, to nobles and other wealthy patrons who wish to satisfy their honor or settle a dispute. In many Nations, it is considered vital to have a Duelist on staff, available to step forward in the event of a challenge. Yet despite all these rules, many continue to duel illegally, meeting at dusk or dawn on the outskirts of a city to draw swords and reclaim their honor. The Duelist's Guild looks quite unfavorably on such events; after all, who will pay them to duel if any fool with a sword can claim the honor? The Guild has representation all across Théah in the form of Guildhouses. Most duels occur within a Guildhouse—another way to evade the watchful eye of the law—in front of witnesses and seconds. Every Guildhouse would deny that they permit illegal duels, but for the right price arrangements can sometimes be made. The Duel
There are two types of duels in Théah: those to first blood and those to the death. A duel to the first blood continues only until one of the Duelists has been hit and suffers a wound. Most duels are to first blood. Only a very serious offense justifies a duel to the death. As noted already, only members of the Duelist’s Guild are legally entitled to challenge others to a duel. Everyone else does so in violation of the law and can expect a visit from a representative of the Guild if word of the challenge gets out. However, most Duelists are more than happy to issue a challenge on behalf of a noble and then let the noble fight the duel personally. They collect the same fee with no personal risk, and the noble may fight his own duel. Honor
Modern Théan concepts of honor descend from the classical ideals of chivalry immortalized in the old Avalon romances of knights and kings. These notions are dying; the sun is setting on chivalry for the last time. Those who still cling to these ideals are known as “gentles,” or, more cynically, “romantics.” The fall of chivalry began with a Montaigne knight named Bastion. During the 1460s, he was considered the pinnacle of chivalry. He was honorable and noble, and the ladies swooned when he spoke to them. Then one day in battle, a peasant armed with an arquebus shot him in the back and he died, drowned in the blood that seeped into his punctured lung. The thought that spread, unspoken, across Théah was, “Bastion was a man of honor, and all it earned him was a painful death.” The average Théan looks out for himself first, his friends and family second, and everyone else not at all. This doesn’t mean that Théah is constantly immersed in schemes and plots, only that most people have better things to worry about, such as getting enough food to eat and making sure their roof will keep out the rain. Chivalry is a pastime for those rich enough to afford it. It is sneered at by many, and romantics are often branded as old-fashioned dreamers who cannot look reality in the eye. But all hope is not yet lost. Romantics are the last people in Théah to conduct business with a handshake and a spoken promise before a contract—that alone should win them the admiration of even the strongest cynics. There are those who still see them as shining knights on white steeds, and prefer to take all their business to the few who remain. A Gentle’s Word
A gentle does not break his word. Ever. The first time he breaks a promise, it brings into question any promise he makes in the future. On the other hand, having a positive reputation means you are as good as your word: reliable, trustworthy and admired. By the same token, he is very particular about when and to whom he gives his word. Only a lowborn dog would hold a gentle to any pledge made while he was in his cups, though a gentle would probably honor it regardless. A true gentle will die before breaking his word, for it is his bond and his soul; some, caught in pledges that would destroy their family, have committed suicide rather than dishonor themselves, but this is rare. If a gentle breaks her word, the repercussions upon her business and lifestyle would be disastrous. Her friends would cease to associate with her, her business associates would abandon her or start demanding written contracts for everything (an intolerable insult to any gentle) and her income would dwindle to nothing as her reputation was dragged through the mud. Often, a gentle swears promises on an item of particular personal importance, such as his grandfather’s sword or his mother’s pendant; the implication is that if the promise is broken, the ancestor associated with the item will know. Reputation
A gentle’s reputation is one of his most prized possessions. He will go to extreme lengths to prevent it from being sullied. Anyone who besmirches his good name can expect a challenge to the blood; anyone who publicly disgraces him, a duel to the death. His word is tied to his reputation, and if one is harmed, the other suffers as well. Thus, accusing a gentle of lying is a slur upon his good name, while accusing him of lying in public is tantamount to publicly disgracing him.
• Only a member of the Duelist's Guild can challenge someone to a duel.
In other words:
• If you want to challenge someone to a duel, you must either be a Duelist or hire a Duelist.
• If you challenge someone to a duel and you are not a Duelist, local authorities will try to arrest you.
• If someone challenges you to a duel and they are not a Duelist, you should report them to the authorities. Members of the Duelist's Guild make themselves available, of course, to nobles and other wealthy patrons who wish to satisfy their honor or settle a dispute. In many Nations, it is considered vital to have a Duelist on staff, available to step forward in the event of a challenge. Yet despite all these rules, many continue to duel illegally, meeting at dusk or dawn on the outskirts of a city to draw swords and reclaim their honor. The Duelist's Guild looks quite unfavorably on such events; after all, who will pay them to duel if any fool with a sword can claim the honor? The Guild has representation all across Théah in the form of Guildhouses. Most duels occur within a Guildhouse—another way to evade the watchful eye of the law—in front of witnesses and seconds. Every Guildhouse would deny that they permit illegal duels, but for the right price arrangements can sometimes be made. The Duel
There are two types of duels in Théah: those to first blood and those to the death. A duel to the first blood continues only until one of the Duelists has been hit and suffers a wound. Most duels are to first blood. Only a very serious offense justifies a duel to the death. As noted already, only members of the Duelist’s Guild are legally entitled to challenge others to a duel. Everyone else does so in violation of the law and can expect a visit from a representative of the Guild if word of the challenge gets out. However, most Duelists are more than happy to issue a challenge on behalf of a noble and then let the noble fight the duel personally. They collect the same fee with no personal risk, and the noble may fight his own duel. Honor
Modern Théan concepts of honor descend from the classical ideals of chivalry immortalized in the old Avalon romances of knights and kings. These notions are dying; the sun is setting on chivalry for the last time. Those who still cling to these ideals are known as “gentles,” or, more cynically, “romantics.” The fall of chivalry began with a Montaigne knight named Bastion. During the 1460s, he was considered the pinnacle of chivalry. He was honorable and noble, and the ladies swooned when he spoke to them. Then one day in battle, a peasant armed with an arquebus shot him in the back and he died, drowned in the blood that seeped into his punctured lung. The thought that spread, unspoken, across Théah was, “Bastion was a man of honor, and all it earned him was a painful death.” The average Théan looks out for himself first, his friends and family second, and everyone else not at all. This doesn’t mean that Théah is constantly immersed in schemes and plots, only that most people have better things to worry about, such as getting enough food to eat and making sure their roof will keep out the rain. Chivalry is a pastime for those rich enough to afford it. It is sneered at by many, and romantics are often branded as old-fashioned dreamers who cannot look reality in the eye. But all hope is not yet lost. Romantics are the last people in Théah to conduct business with a handshake and a spoken promise before a contract—that alone should win them the admiration of even the strongest cynics. There are those who still see them as shining knights on white steeds, and prefer to take all their business to the few who remain. A Gentle’s Word
A gentle does not break his word. Ever. The first time he breaks a promise, it brings into question any promise he makes in the future. On the other hand, having a positive reputation means you are as good as your word: reliable, trustworthy and admired. By the same token, he is very particular about when and to whom he gives his word. Only a lowborn dog would hold a gentle to any pledge made while he was in his cups, though a gentle would probably honor it regardless. A true gentle will die before breaking his word, for it is his bond and his soul; some, caught in pledges that would destroy their family, have committed suicide rather than dishonor themselves, but this is rare. If a gentle breaks her word, the repercussions upon her business and lifestyle would be disastrous. Her friends would cease to associate with her, her business associates would abandon her or start demanding written contracts for everything (an intolerable insult to any gentle) and her income would dwindle to nothing as her reputation was dragged through the mud. Often, a gentle swears promises on an item of particular personal importance, such as his grandfather’s sword or his mother’s pendant; the implication is that if the promise is broken, the ancestor associated with the item will know. Reputation
A gentle’s reputation is one of his most prized possessions. He will go to extreme lengths to prevent it from being sullied. Anyone who besmirches his good name can expect a challenge to the blood; anyone who publicly disgraces him, a duel to the death. His word is tied to his reputation, and if one is harmed, the other suffers as well. Thus, accusing a gentle of lying is a slur upon his good name, while accusing him of lying in public is tantamount to publicly disgracing him.
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