Many of you can relate to me when I say that World of Warcraft dominates the landscape of my existence. My life on Earth exists primarily to support my travels—or, rather, those of my Paladin—in Azeroth. Ligeia and I have fused in the sort of way described in Harlequin novels or rhythm and blues ballads. We've become one entity. Things which occur in my plane of existence seem to have parallels in hers. For example, I've noticed that as Ligeia grows in strength, I grow in flab. This could have something to do with the fact that my (relatively) new obsession has precluded any sort of gym activity. My social life has also suffered, and I've attempted to offset this in Azeroth by finding Ligeia a guild of like-minded folk ready to unflinchingly serve the Light. It's been quite a struggle.

I began with the intention of being that pro-active guy to form a GameSpot guild. We had been talking about it for a while, but, with so much of the editorial staff already guilded, the realization of that dream seemed impossible. Ever the luftmensch, I, with a little determination and a lot of payola, managed to accrue the requisite nine signatures, and head to Stormwind to register. Upon my arrival, I noticed that the guild charter had disappeared from my inventory. A GM's response: "Sorry!"

My hopes summarily crushed, I decided to explore the world of preexisting guilds. One such organization snatched me up, just as my resistance was at its lowest. We'll call this guild "Inu Yasha," as it was named for another anime series. I knew to expect some depraved gentlemen with penchants for girls in sailor fuku. What I didn't expect is for the entire guild to be comprised of furries—folks who identify strongly with particular animals, real or mythical, in a sexual context. These people were articulate, considerate, and generally good players. I mightn't have left had it not been such an incredible mismatch, interest-wise. Mostly, I think I just got tired of hearing particularly nice armor being described as "yiffy."

Here's a sample of Inu Yasha's Guild chat:

Guild:<CuddlyG> So, it's interesting that gryphons are so prevalent in this game, as that's what I am—a gryphon. Only I have, like, human breasts. Seventeen of them.

Guild:<Ligeia> I don't know of anything in the animal kingdom that has an odd number of breasts. How did you decide on that number?

Guild:<CuddlyG> Hey, I didn't choose this life, man. It chose me. It chose me.

I couldn't argue with that logic, but I also couldn't spend any more time in Inu Yasha. Amidst little fanfare, I left the guild, and went in search of another social outlet. It didn't take me long to get recruited again, this time by a guild we'll call "Mercenaries." It seemed that Mercenaries was part of a group of feeder guilds for the Stygian Order, which is apparently Azeroth's equivalent of the Somerset Club. Instead of organizing raids and the like, the leaders of Mercenaries acted like prep school headmasters, choosing which members would be "sent over" to SO. They assured me that the alternative was a lengthy application process, including an interview. Characteristically, I chose to do things the hard way.

As promised, being accepted to the Stygian Order without a letter of recommendation was more difficult than getting into the Social Register with a name like "Score." After filling out a four page application (I'll admit I recycled some portions from my college admission essays), I endured a week of anticipation. During this time, my essay and short-answer questions were ostensibly being reviewed, on the www.soguild.com forums, by each of the one hundred four guild members. When I finally received a mail message from the official guild emissary, it simply gave instructions as to when and where my interview would take place.

I was asked for a brief medical history, assurance of the stability of my connection, and if I had ever PKed on a first date. I was asked if I felt comfortable being level thirty-eight in a guild comprised entirely of level sixty characters. My interviewer was apparently sufficiently impressed by my ability to form actual, punctuated sentences, as she welcomed me into the guild. Wiping the sweat from my furrowed brow, I accepted. After signing their Code of Conduct, enduring a timeshare presentation, and being beaten with the official "S.O." paddle, I was in. Of course, at my current level of "Sacrifice," one false move and I'll be ejected and expunged, forced to wander once again amongst the unaffiliated.

I'd be interested to hear your guild stories, and whether you've had a rewarding experience in your institution of choice.