[Zeke]

Guild Formation

Equipped now with a new name suited to him, the Chataran marched back to his home to once again attempt to secure military commitment. Finding that he did not need to stop and rest, Grind Knight reached the city more quickly than he ever had when traveling from Karaten. Remembering the complacency of the common people, his plan was a direct appeal to the council members who held rule over Chaturanga.

Climbing the marble steps to their chamber, Grind Knight demanded to be received by the council members at once. And he was.

The old men of the council listened to the young knight with skepticism, and scoffed at the idea of challenging the Empire; such dreams were for younger men with little to lose. Part of the responsibility of the council was to ensure the safety of the city and its people, and the potential reward of such a campaign was not worth the risk, they had agreed. Below his great black cloak, Grind Knight gripped the hilt of his sword with such ferocity that the metal began to bend, and the integrity of the weapon was saved only by a single word muttered by the oldest council member.

"However..."

Grind Knight loosened his grip and, through his helm, looked intensely upon the face of the frail man. Deep within the man's face, which must have seen more than a century, the bright and unmistakably gleeful eyes were fixed right back on the knight.

"However," the old man continued, "we can leave you with the tools you need. Chaturanga will itself not be involved, you understand. But we could not call ourselves the leaders and protectors of its people if we allowed one of ours to march off to die."

From beneath his robe, the old man retrieved a small satchel and a scroll, whose wax seal had already been broken. He made his way slowly to Grind Knight, as old men are wont to do, and raised his gaze to the helm of the massive knight once he had come close enough. Unafraid, the old man offered over both the satchel and the scroll, and left him with some parting words. "Only a fool commits himself to such a campaign alone. You have sought our help, and so you are not a fool. And although we cannot help you, I believe you are capable of finding those who can. Do not frequent this place, young man, and do not return until you can repay the debt."

Taking one last look at the solemn faces of the other council members, Grind Knight looked down at the frail man and thanked him before turning and taking his leave of the council chamber.

Making his way out of the city, the knight passed by the home which had been his since infancy. But as he looked upon the home trying to recall how he had spent his play time, or how the kitchen had smelled, or what it had felt like to lie in his bed, there was nothing. No memories at all, except that it had once been his. However,it was now just like any other: Chaturan, and worth fighting for. And nothing more.

Once outside the city walls, he inspected what the old man had given him. Inside the satchel were several large metal discs whose centers were occupied by gems. Having no need of such frivolous ornaments, he nearly tossed them aside until he saw what had been engraved into the metal. This was mura - Alstalsian currency. He counted the discs, using the engravings to determine their total worth. The satchel he had been given contained precisely one million murai. He realized that this would be enough to feed and equip a small band of followers, and to establish a base of operations. He also realized that this is likely the debt to which the old man had referred.

Now recognizing the broken seal as that of the Alstalsian capital, Grind Knight opened the scroll and read its contents. It was addressed to the council of Chaturanga, and was a request for the services of some of the city's black knights. Thinking that such a massive payment was entirely unnecessary, he continued to read the request and soon understood the gravity of the request.

Having now journeyed to Alstalsia, out of the city proper and up into the frigid mountainous region, the knight thought back to what he had read, and understood why the old man had given him the scroll. It was not long into his trek before he began to hear the noises. A sorrowful wailing of something that did not sound human, a thick presence in the air, and a bloodlust more intense than he had felt from any of his foes during the war. It was enough to break the will of an average man and leave him vulnerable to assault. Grind Knight stopped, and stood so still that he could have been mistaken for one of Chaturanga's great marble statues. He waited for the predator to reveal itself.

Silently and suddenly, a figure faded into vision from behind the howling frosted winds. It was large enough to rival Grind Knight himself in size, and from the neck down seemed only to be a tattered mess of various fabrics. Upon its head was the skull of some strange creature that could only be described as both bovine and demonic. But without fear or hesitation, Grind Knight called out its name and stopped the creature's advance.

"Yark Horn."


***


This meeting marked the beginning of his organization, and the tenets upon which it operates. With his first recruit and a small loan of one million murai, Grind Knight returned to Sigrogana, landing in Dormeho and establishing a base of operations.

"To restore Chataran ownership of land on the main continent, and to allow the people of Sigrogana to govern themselves in the absence of the tyrannical Empire."

Recalling the sage words of the pink-haired mage twins of Karaten, he added to this statement of purpose.

"And, with those who are cherished, to form bonds which time itself cannot erode."

Cities will crumble, empires will dissolve, and loved ones will perish. Even his guild itself would some day cease to exist, but not before seeing his ambitions realized. Imbued with the understanding of finality, this was Grind Knight's mark on history. This was Ephemeral.