The head of the Guild, Francis S. Fitzgerald, recently discovered a marvellous thing common Americans do: camping! Fitzgerald has camped before but hasn't attempted "poor people camping" as he called it. Spending the night in tents instead of villas, searching for food instead of having it prepared by Michelin Star Chefs. The experience had a certain novelty that piqued the man's interest.

Ever the enthusiast, Fitzgerald decided to buy an entire plot of land in the forest to attempt this alien activity. Of course, he couldn't do this alone, so who did he bring? The entirety of the guild staff. What could possibly go wrong?

"Now, how do you pinch- No wait, pitch a tent," Fitzgerald hummed deep in thought as he scratched his chin 'wisely' and stared at the manual in his hands. It had taken hours just to reach the location, relying on the guild members' limited knowledge of map reading. Now they needed to set up camp so the night critters didn't get any funny ideas.