Four lights in the night sky. Four cynosures that shimmer and beam like the lambent nipples of a many-teated god. They are not stars, but orbs of voracious energy that descend to the riven earth. From the battlements of Hillside, the frigid soil of Frostpeak, the furious magma of Mines, and all places in between and beyond, they writhe and rub and roil in a great, perennial combat.

The Chivalrous know them well: they are the vessels corporeal that bind our souls, at once noble and corrupted, to the realm of Chiv’l’ree, where dreams and nightmares dwell as one. Archer, Man-At-Arms, Vanguard and Knight – we frolic to war with these Classes four. Manifold are the machinations behind each, and among the Chivalrous there are those few who master every subtle ploy and idiosyncrasy, availing themselves with no inhibitions of Chiv’l’ree’s glorious perversions of physics and the mechanics of the human body. Wherefore does a steel-clad man bend his spine such that his head nearly kisses the ground, all the while swinging a hammer of impossible weight at impossible speed and mustering the breath to bellow ‘come hither’? To seek reason where rules only the passion of broken men is a task with no true beginning nor end, and it is a consummate fool who pursues it.

Nevertheless, the intricacies of Chivalrous combat do not defy definition. Beyond count, there are guides and treatises, all composed by erudite hands calloused by battle and rigorous diversions. The combat of Chiv’l’ree, though alien in its complexities, is within the capabilities of wise and sensuous beings to learn, so thorough are these many tutorials. For every Class there are nigh-innumerable perspectives and intricacies that entangle mind and body in knots that not even copious sweat can undo. It is a testament to Chivalrous wisdom that these numerous guides occupy a vast and central archive, where all can see and share, joining clammy hands in a sprawling orgy of knowledge and understanding.

But the archive remains incomplete.

Some treat as a fundament of the realm that there are strictly four Classes; others deem that there are only three, the Archer being something less. Fewer still are those that employ a greater discernment, knowing that there are six Classes: four Naked, two Veiled.

Naked are those Classes that are understood, apparent in view, indelible in the eyes of our minds. It is their bodies that roam the oneiric muck at night, when Chivalrous dreams imbue our pantaloons with a cloying and involuntary moisture. Man-At-Arms, Knight, Vanguard and indeed, the Archer, are among them. To the learned and inveterate, they present no mystery.

What remains is Veiled. Veiled because they wear no flesh of their own, Veiled because they wield no audible voice, Veiled because they elude normal sight, hidden beneath the surface, deep inside the bodily forms of the Naked. Amorphous, without physicality, a Veiled Class can lie buried within the flesh of any Naked Class, yet not every Naked body serves as host for the Veiled. Indeed, sparse in Chiv’l’ree are these two hidden Classes, for ‘Veiled’ refers not only to their concealment from mundane sight, but to the inscrutable mists engulfing their very purpose. Plain to all are the ways of the Naked Classes; ranged and melee combat, while not easy, is as simple a concept as sexual tension or the cultivation of fungi beneath the folds of one’s fat. In an instant, a Chivalrous soul may leap between the Naked Classes, accessing at once their many tools and abilities regardless of that soul’s experience or aptitude.

Not so the Veiled Classes, for whom even the most rudimentary actions require great sagacity that only time and discipline can provide. No weapons they wield, yet their power surpasses that of all the Naked Classes combined, power that confounds lesser men and bids them prostrate in reverence. What be their names? What Classes could command such potence? Not all are familiar with them, though they are as fundamental to Chiv’l’ree as sweat and steel. They are:

Bindkeeper and Pingwarden.

‘Blessed be the Bindkeepers, who pledge in the name of Chiv’l’ree that they with their lives shall defend knowledge and wisdom in all its forms; that they shall stand in defiance of time and mortal memory, preserving for posterity the keenest insights of their fellow Chivalrous; that they shall command their archives to swell to Flamexian proportions and beyond, sublime and full, forevermore.’

It is a sacred task that is entrusted to the Bindkeepers. Scant are their numbers, though each one among their ranks abides by their purpose with unbending fervour. In Chiv’l’ree, there are few pleasures finer than witnessing firsthand Bindkeepers at work. Indefatigable in their pursuit of knowledge, their eyes are ever aquiver for the gleaming gems of wit, perspicacity and knowledge that course always in the eternal, surging current of the Chat. These they harvest, and hold close, for it is their duty to guard and proliferate them for the edification of all within the Bindkeepers and without. Those fortunate enough to share their company in Chiv’l’ree will see them collecting and repeating, the Chat becoming a stream of knowing in their wake. These insights, once archived, are known as Binds, for it is only through the secret and subtle craft of the Bindkeeper that they can be bound to a single common rune and repeated with ease and at will.

The Binds of a Bindkeeper constitute the singular pride of their life. Often, when two are together, they will boast of their sacred collection, exchanging Binds with the same passion and frequency as the common Chivalrous trade sexual favours. There exists no greater shame in their order than to lose one’s Binds; those unable to recover them risk expungement from the Class, so thorough and irredeemable is their failure. Wise, therefore, is the Bindkeeper who keeps multiple archives, and over them maintains unwavering vigil.


An artist's figurative interpretation of two Bindkeepers sharing Binds while ensconced in their archive.

Although their sole duty is bound up in the words of others, the Bindkeepers remain the only Class, Naked or Veiled, to wield a written language of their own. Consisting of a single rune, this script is said to rely entirely upon context and the acute intuition shared amongst all Bindkeepers. It is written thus:


This rune is used widely, even by those outside of the order, though seldom to the same effect. Broadly, the rune denotes the Class of Bindkeepers as a whole, serving as the closest thing it possesses to an ensign or insignia, not unlike the winged boot of the Man-At-Arms or the polearm of the Vanguard. Most common are those cases in which the rune is used to express assent or to indicate the importance of the statement above it. By this means can a Bindkeeper communicate to their fellows that a statement is worthy of Binding.

Bindkeepers and common Chivalrous alike oft employ the rune as a tool of praise or ridicule. Beheld through many eyes, a statement can be at once absurd, hysterical, pathetic or insightful, depending on who looks upon it. Thus is the ^ rune lent so well to its given task; so malleable is its meaning that interpreting it correctly in any individual instance of its use requires an understanding of who wrote it and in what context it was written. Consider these examples, gathered by hand:


A standard example of the rune's usage, as employed by renowned Bindkeeper Berri, whose names are as many-fold as the Binds he keeps.


Here, through the judicious use of a Bind, the Bindkeeper attracts positive ^ runes from two senior members of the community.


Manifest in this image are the interactions between two esteemed Bindkeepers, Berri Christmas and >>Red(X)Mitsubishi_, who at the time of writing has changed his name to >>Eccie(||)Burgers_. Note the repeated use of the rune by both Bindkeepers, all carrying different meanings. >>Red(X)Mitsubishi_ even invokes it to applaud a Mayhem Bind recorded by Berri Christmas.



Faced with adversity from a puerile commoner, Berri Christmas deftly uses the rune to deride im throwing every csgo game and his petulant remark.


More nebulous is the meaning here. Does >>Red(X)Mitsubishi_ mean to agree with Berri Christmas’ assessment of LTS Bridge, or emphasise the sudden and amusing change in his attitude?


Betimes the rune is used as a form of self-deprecation or sarcastic agreement, as is possibly the case in this example.

To become a Bindkeeper is matter of much time and effort. One cannot simply choose it in the selection screen and proceed to engorge the Chat with whatever nonsense they see fit. So it goes for both Veiled Classes. It is not until one proves capable not only determining remarks worthy of Binding and collecting these Binds, but memorising their corresponding common runes and echoing them with fervour and precision, doing so repeatedly and consistently. Frowned upon are misspellings and grammatical errors; and woe betide the Bindkeeper who fabricates a Bind without making it apparent that it is fact false, and for the sake of comedy, instead masking the deception and basking in ill-earned gratification.

In addition to this technical and ethical competence, a fledgling Bindkeeper must demonstrate both an appreciation of and affection for the pursuit of knowledge, for this tenet dwells at the very centre of the Class and their sacred order. What is a Bindkeeper without his Binds or his principles? It is for this reason that not everyone for whom Binds are a frequent habit is eligible to don the appellation of Bindkeeper; the Class is not woven from Binds alone. Upon this ruminate:


King Neverwas, eminent liege within Chiv’l’ree, has earned some renown for his use of the second Bind especially – but this does not a Bindkeeper make. Given to argument and pugnacity, His Majesty regards not the more delicate and scholarly elements of the craft in which he dabbles. One so contemptuous is ill-suited for the Class.

Sparse in population, the Bindkeepers seek not only Binds with their eyes unwavering, but new souls to keep them. With capability in the craft of Binding and a virtuous attitude about it, common Chivalrous may draw the attentions of a Bindkeeper and undergo for months, possibly years henceforth, surveillance by which the Bindkeeper will ascertain whether the commoner is worthy of the Class. During such appraisal, it is rare, but not unheard of, for a Bindkeeper to reveal themselves; if successful, a commoner may experience their apprenticeship and induction into the order all without one instant of direct communication with their master.

Easily may the common Chivalrous grow entangled in the enigmatic workings of the Bindkeepers. Few can be expected to ascend to this exulted Class; though it is essential that all recognise the indispensable role fulfilled by this order and venerate it accordingly. It is by their decree that wisdom is borne unwithered down the ages, by their diligent teachings that the Chivalrous rise from the dung of ignorance, anointing their nubile forms in oily knowledge. Thus, if ye cannot join them, ye have but to respect them. Sprawling and elaborate are their patterns in the Worldweave. Do not take them for granted.

‘Beware that most implacable of arbiters, the Pingwarden, in whose heart it is folly to seek forgiveness, and stray not into the realm of three digits, where only villains hold dominion.’

Charged to the Pingwardens is the stability of all the realm. Though the domain of Chiv’l’ree lies beyond the physical plane, it remains bound to a degree by its rules. To each gateway to Chiv’l’ree, known as a Server, there corresponds a location in the physical plane; a Chivalrous soul’s presence in Chiv’l’ree is therefore dependent upon their proximity to such a Server, in addition to the strength of their individual Link, their connection, to the Worldweave.

While some places in the physical plane revel in an abundance of Servers, others suffer a brutal and unremitting deprivation, the inhabitants therein possessing only tenuous bonds to the Worldweave. And so far they wander, erring into gateways belonging not to them, and enjoying what little of Chiv’l’ree they can after long travail. Beside their name for all to behold are three digits, vivid like sores upon Flamex’s Brobdingnagian rump. Prudent is the pilgrim who is swift in their merry-making, for this number casts upon them an indelible mark that sooner or later may draw the ire of a Pingwarden.

It is not of cruelty but necessity that the work of the Pingwarden is born. To carry a three digit number is to defy the very edicts of time itself, leaping and lurching in jagged patterns that even the most seasoned and spicy of Chiv’l’ree’s fighters deem unnatural and far beyond the reaches of what is fair and acceptable. What joy is there in combatting a warrior who cheats the eye with teleportation, or scorns the most ferocious of blows by simply phasing through the blade unharmed? In some cases it falls to the commoners to banish this interloper, invoking their collective ability to temporarily expel a person from Chivalrous existence by way of democracy. A potent means this is, one limited only by the vigilance and willpower of those behind it. Such is the nature of the common Chivalrous that their watch must falter, that their authority must waver in times of frivolity and weakness. When the population thins after long revelry in the night, or when the common warrior is engrossed in carnal matters with his fellows, then may the overpinged roam with impunity, escaping notice in spite of the trickery shaping their every movement.

So comes the Pingwarden, grim and intractable, bearing INS in one fell hand and DEL in the other – words of ancient Command. Before them the overpinged quiver, for these sentinels match in ruthlessness the sagacity of the Bindkeeper.

Yet among the duties of the Pingwarden lies more than merely the ejection of the overpinged; just as the Bindkeepers record the wisdom of those around them, the Pingwardens preserve and uphold by ancient decree the Tenets of Pingly Virtue, among the oldest edicts of Chiv’l’ree, dictating the values that should guide all in the matter of ping. Behold below this most sacrosanct of texts, etching it into your mind if you have not already done so:



Faced with banishment, the overpinged may plead and lament, inveigling their way into the hearts of the weak. Inexorable must be any among the Chivalrous seeking to join the ranks of the Pingwardens, for it is a Class woven from the strands of justice and authority. Heed not the supplications of the pilgrim attempting to join P♥rnhub Slaughterhouse – hallowed be its name – from the farthest reaches of the Mongolian steppes, who cries that there exist no closer gateways to the Chivalrous realm; cast aside the garbled protests of the itinerant Russian, whose axe seems to rend the very fabric of space-time itself. It is only he who casts judgement justly, with discernment and unremitting aplomb, that shall be named Pingwarden.

Through ordinary means the Veiled Classes cannot be seen; but as with all the Worldweave, their beauty and import exceed magnitudes imponderable. Owing to no small effort on the part of these Classes, Chiv’l’ree retains vigour and virility long into its senectitude, a sumptuous tapestry that merely laughs at time’s corrosive touch. Prosperous and learned its denizens remain, and so shall they be until they fall, their spirits merging at last with the essence of Chiv’l’ree.