Hopefully they'll get all of the social issues fixed before the next one. 
The guild Alchemy Incorporated formed in Tyria during a long, cold, harsh winter.
The snow was often stained with blood, screams filled the air ... "Oh my God, they killed Kenny" ...
The guildhall opened in the spring directly following that season of frostbitten, icy, burning hell. The first members of the guild were often mercenary figures. They profited mightily from the deaths of their foes. It could honestly be said that they picked even the bones from their dead. They witnessed (and often gleefully participated in) the destruction of millions of red dots, hundreds of bosses, an entire race, a prince (twice), a god, and a continent. In the process legends formed and heroes sometimes emerged.
It should come as no surprise that these people have managed to endure, and even thrive, in the intervening 250 years.
'People' - more like cockroaches when you think about it ... or parasites sucking the blood ...
The descendants and torch bearers of those long dead heroes and miscreants throw open the massive doors of the guildhall to welcome you - the intrepid young adventurer. Come, walk the hallowed corridors, visit the extensive and finely appointed library, troll the chat room and enjoy the camaraderie of the guild Alchemy Incorporated.
Ha - Walk very softly and keep your hand on your money belt. You can't trust them as far as you can throw a Stone Summit Herder ...
~ Guild Historian
(with help from the House Elf)
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Aye Poor Dead Kenny. I still blame Sly.
