It was just another day within the MoonQuill server. A stirring occurred within the great mass of the faceless. One of them opened their eyes. And their mouth.

“I wish to become an author. How do I need to do to become one?”

Two authors nearby were willing to help him out. They looked at the identifier above his head. Royson. His appeared to be the usual sort of lurker, the faceless mass laying about the rooms. A part of the furniture they seemed. They were certainly treated as such. With each passing moment Royson gained more features separating himself from the other faceless. He gained a face and well-defined body, a glittering sword in hand.

The two authors began describing the way to become an author. The first author, TrollingTrolls, began outlining the hierarchy within the realm. At the top was the Pantheon, split between three ranks. There was the two great gods Kajack and Moon. Beneath them were the patrolling gods. These gods surveyed the world for the great ones who were definitely not lazy but just really busy. Finally, you had the faceless gods. They were like the faceless in every aspect bar one. They were part of the creation of the realm.

After the pantheon was the residents which could be split into four groups. They were editors, authors, artists and readers. Here the division was limited. Besides readers being abstained from half of the world the classes here were mainly for classification. In the end they were equal in the eyes of the pantheon.

Trolls told Royson that in order to become an author he must gain the power of a god. Killing one was the only way to ascend to authorhood and gaining access to the other half of the world.

The second author, BloodRequiem, tells Royson of an ancient trial. This trial is one requiring the potential author to make their way to the holy land and sacrificing a story to the gods. It had to be original. It had to have quality.

Either way Royson had to make his way towards the pantheon. He was determined to acquire the author role. To summon the gods was an easy thing. All you needed to do was speak their name and the god may appear. It was still up to them whether they appeared or not. A sacrifice, meaning within this meaningless world, would increase the chances of successfully summoning a god. People who frequently summoned gods without sufficient sacrifice were likely to get banished from the world.

At the foot of the overwhelming pantheon Royson proclaimed, with Troll and Blood by his side, “Oh mighty gods of the Moon, Will you beseech my call and enlighten this ignorant one? What is the way to become an author?”

A bolt of lightning struck before the party and out emerged a patrolling god. It was the mighty Complex. Some called him a tyrant, others avoided calling him anything and the rest were banished because they tried to fight him. A select few got on well with this god. He was an eccentric yet just god. All one needed was to realise the truth.

“Just create a story and spread it across the holy land. If it matches the criteria it will become a part of the holy land. After that all you need to do is present proof at the altar. Then you shall be granted the position of author.”

With that Complex roamed off, his followers satisfied. Royson turned to the two accompanying authors.

“This is where we part ways. I thank you both for the assistance. I shall venture to the holy land and submit my story. Farewell.”

Royson roamed off into the distance to venture forth and complete his quest. He was later found amongst the piles of faceless. It seems his journey did not succeed.