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As Wilhelm approaches the wood that smells like a festering malignancy, and screams the discordant notes of “wrong” in his mind, he takes comfort from the presence of his friends and fellow heirs by his side. He knows that these young men, no more than boys like himself, will stand against this abomination with him, and ensure the safety, security, and prosperity of Grimsveldt.

That surety did not come easily, only yesterday in fact, there was doubt. Strife, discord, and fear tore at the very foundation of the Heirs relationship. Wilhelm had seen in many times before, in the streets of Roggenwolf. As the Children’s Army grew beyond the few street gangs, and as more and more flocked to the cause, there was despair, discomfort, and small frictions that grew (like a gnarled oak) until the brambles and thorns of discord were in every branch.

There was a lesson learned that day, the Lords arrived. Direction. Direction and focus, clear and concise. Most mobs, and even small groups, though they may have similar goals, beliefs, and desires, cannot stand the heat of the friction that comes from lack of unity of purpose. The day that the Lords came, the Army was galvanized by their leadership, and example, even though, they were ultimately disbanded, it was a purpose they could all agree on. They would go back, and tell of the Lords, and some day rise to their challenge to join them among the multiverse.

When the schism within the Heirs began to form on that lonely mountaintop, Wilhelm knew it was up to him to find unity of purpose that they could all agree upon. As they came upon the house, later the next day. He knew what it was, they were the Heirs of Grimmveldt! The house, grounds, and it’s environs sang through their veins, there is nothing the Heirs would not do to protect the manse. Wilhelm had nearly frozen to death, feeding the house his power. Bairmont had opened his mind to unknowable horror, on the off chance it would help defend the manor. And Bodie had nearly sacrificed himself to be the willing vessel of the defense of the bounds. Wilhelm knew he needed to tap into that well of common purpose, and state boldly and plainly what they needed to do as heirs.

That night, he spent in feverish composition, blatantly stealing some of the best words on the subject of purpose that he could find. And before he sought his bed that night, he tacked a parchment on each of his fellow heirs doors. On top of the parchment, he affixed a bright yellow square of paper, saying, “Gents, it’s a bit rough, but have a read, and let me know what you think. - Willy”

The rough draft of a manifesto lay below the note, on a small bit of parchment. It was obvious that these were only the beginnings of the thoughts that needed to be expressed, and that the Heirs would need to decide on more details, to ensure their success.

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