What Clover Means

A Singular Scene

Lliam paces around the ring of the dojo, eyeing his competition. He didn’t expect a native to show up to the guild today, let alone another guild master from a different continent.

Word travels fast, it’s no surprise that Clover is now making a name for itself, that much he was already aware of. But for one to walk through the door and demand to meet, let alone demand a fight.

Lliam can’t help but chuckle to himself, catching the attention of the Pokémon on the other end of the ring.
“What’s taking you so long?!” The Pokémon sneers at Lliam.

Their scrappy attitude is one Lliam’s seen before, mostly from other “humons”, as he’s been calling them for… well who knows how long.

“I’m just, taking it in.” Lliam replies, radiating the same coy feeling back at the other Pokémon.
Today’s contestant is Stoutland, Guild master to the Water Continent’s very own “Seafront Guild”. As of last week, Clover reached their ranking, and from the glaring expression from the canine Pokémon’s mug, it looks like they aren’t very happy about sharing spots with the likes of them.

“I asked you for a fight, and I intend to walk out with one. I’ve heard stories about you’re the place you run, and it’s a desecration against guilds all over the world. Pokémon acting erratically, strange markings on your signs and walls, and even more, the attitude of your guild members!”

The Stoutland spits on the floor, a demonstration of his distain for Lliam, and his guild.

“You know nothing of what a guild means! Now let’s get this over with.”

Lliam can’t help but laugh, the arrogance radiating off of the other guild master has got to be the highlight of his day. He can sense that this is going to be an easy fight, but he’s got a point to make. He takes a deep breath, officially stepping into the ring.

“You are wrong.” Lliam says, a growing smirk on his face.
“Our emblem, the clover…”

Lliam produces a wand seemingly from nowhere, using it to point to the logo carefully painted onto the wall of the dojo.

“Did you ever stop and wonder why we chose that?”

The Stouland scoffs but is unable to produce a response to Lliam’s question, his patience is being tried, and Lliam knows that.

“Hmm.” Lliam continues to toy with the other guild master,

“No clue? I’ll indulge you.” He points to each of the four leaves on the clover.

“Each leaf of the clover has a meaning, Faith, Hope, Love, and Luck. It may sound silly, but they’re important values we hold here.”

Lliam gives another smile, his body radiates a small amount of psychic energy, and the FWISH of a light screen echoes from the corner of a room.

“Faith; we didn’t ask to be brought together, but we hold faith that together, we can survive this unfamiliar world we inhabit.”

Another FWISH, a reflector pane, angled to their right, aimed at the corner of the room.

“Hope; we hold out hope, that answers may come to us, that we may learn of our purpose, as we’re all more similar than someone like you can understand.”

Lliam produces another wand from the ether, it spins upright in his paw, before he catches it.

“Love; not in the sense of romance, but comradery. A love required to look out for those you care about, to go against the grain to protect family. Love that can move mountains.”

Lliam points his Caldera wand at the Stoutland, his grin widening, he’s enjoying this.

“And luck; a once in a lifetime miracle that made it possible for this guild to be formed. It’s luck that brought us here, it could be fate, or destiny, but we’re lucky that we’re together.”
The Meowstic lowers his staff, readying himself for their fight. In his mind, he’s confident, sure of his victory. But merely defeating the other guild master in combat won’t get it through his head they’re not going anywhere, he needs to understand that Clover Guild is more than a bunch of strange Pokémon living in this world. They’re much more than that.

“Which is why, Clover Guild is ours.”

He makes few last-minute adjustments to his aim on his blast staff, eyeing the trajectory of his light screen and reflector pane.

“I won’t let you take that away.”

The Stoutland looks as if it’ll pounce at any moment.

“En Garde!”