More than ten millennia ago…

One should have been there many centuries ago: at the height of the great Ravnican sprawl; many organizations have fought to the death to acquire dominance of the newly declared ecumenopolis. In the end, only ten clubs remain. As the first arrow was about to be shot to start a new war and determine the victor, one man came forward with a way to counter the conflict. A humble man named Azor put forth the elaborate treaty, of which stated that these remaining guilds must settle their differences and work together to help the city instead.

That day, a massive crowd gathered on the park where the twin pillars now stood. In the middle of this sea stood the nine guildpact founders or "paruns" scrawling their respective signatures in blood and magic: Azor wrote his with a silver pen; Simic the vedalken made his with a grubby pen which lasted him two decades; Svogthir the necromancer broke a chicken bone and oozed his name out with it; the angel Razia blazed her name with the swing of her sword; the massive Mat'Selesnya scribbled with her gnarly fingers; the even bigger Rakdos licked his finger and scratched a smoldering 'X'; Niv the Dragon simply snorted a geyser of fire from a nostril and crafted a very detailed and highly extravagant signature, complete with flaming designs and little Niv caricatures; the Obzedat's chairman dipped his pen in a cup of ink mixed with the blood of him and his brotherhood and simply wrote their group's name, yet the pact immediately understood and bled out their names.

With the brute crush of a thumb, Cizarsim made his mark at the end of a long winding parchment scroll. The document, which seemed to have a mind of its own, reconfigured the cyclop's thumbprint into a scripted version of his name. The alpha male groaned his disapproval of this unnatural approach, but it didn't matter: the Ravnican Guildpact has acquired the last attendee's signature.

"Excellent, every guildmember has signed" Azor raised the end of the treaty in front of his face to confirm it. "My fellow paruns, upon signing this you realize that our organizations must not at anytime incite conflict with each other and are subject to the guildpact's crippling magic upon breaching this agreement until it deems appropriate, agreed?" He pointed to the table with a glaring mace as the others reluctantly agreed.

The Azorius leader pouted. "Come on, people! Raise your enthusiasm a little. We are building a new Ravnica here" The majority of the crowd cheered, happy that the destruction wrought by guild conflict was at an end. In order not to be conspicuous, the paruns joined their joy.

"Now Isperia will roll it up and notarize it, approving its status as a legal document". Azor whistled for the sphinx, a fair-haired beast whose helmet sported the Azorius trademark.

She landed on the table where the guildpact lay and began growling indecipherable words in front of the Arbiter. Azor shook his head. "I know it's not your job, but Charlie was sick today. Just this once, please." He said an aside to the spectral bodyguard beside him "She has been like this ever since her spouse was run over by an anti-saproling mob. It was quite depressing, a dashing lion in his prime that he was."

She sniffed, and poked the scroll along with her snout. With the slap of a paw, Isperia legalized the document. The sphinx threw it into the air and the scroll exploded into a rain of golden dust, showering the paruns. Unbeknownst to the witnesses of this event, an invisible hand has quickly scribbled a name on the guildpact before the sphinx has completely rolled it.

"And now, we party!" Azor fanned out his hands and a flock of doves erupted behind him, holding bottles of chardonnay and clear goblets on their talons for the large crowds to catch. The Arbiter's two soulsworn bodyguards, despite their doubts, opened up their robes and covered the paruns like a giant tent; sheltering the next part of his agenda from the crowd.

"We have got to say," The meta-dryad declared in a chorus of voices as she downed a barrel of the stuff. "This has been the Arbiter's best idea since he built that forest reserve for the other dryads to frolic on."

"You mean," the four-horned demon interjected "the quickest move he made. Though I'd respect him for that, what's his game?"

"Ah-em." Cizarsim angrily faked a cough at the horned one. "That's my idea. Woods are good for game."

"Oh yeah, but it wouldn've gone through all that without Mr. Floating-Chair's approval." Svogthir corrected him.

Isperia snarled on the necromancer's direction, but the Arbiter steadied her pounce. Turning to the Golgari leader he asked, "You dare to insult the Grand Arbiter in his presence?"

"No, sir." Svogthir responded innocently. "Didn't even lay a finger on you, Oh Mighty Azor." He said, half-mocked.

Behind his visor, Azor rolled his eyes. "Yes…remember to do that."

"The treaty was one thing." Svogthir continued as he stirred the broken chicken bone on the wine to give it a gamey flavor. "I was surprised that y'all got us to cooperate and sign it. I mean here we are: three humans, a Cyclops, an angel, a vedalken, a demon, a bramble-chick and a dragon, all natural-born enemies. I have a hard time doin' that with my place."

"I don't really care what that treaty thing said." Rakdos said as he lapped the white wine with his tongue. "As long as it didn't get in the way of my fun. I have a new master of ceremonies and I need to break her in." His giggle sounded like the skittering of a thousand scorpions.

"What kind of fun things is he talking about, my friend?" The Obzedat chairman asked as he tugged on the necromancer's shoulder.

Svogthir smiled, which creep the chairman out. "Y'all don't wanna know what the demonlord's idea of fun is, pal."

Niv snorted "Feh, I could've made a better way to settle guild conflicts in my sleep. The ruler of the world was just lucky that he got there first." He slapped the blue-skinned biomancer on the back, whose mind was clearly not at this gathering. "What do you think, my vedalken friend?" The frilled dragon laughed, as if Niv cared what anyone else thought.

Simic jerked, turning his gaze from the peoples of Ravnica beyond the spectral tent and into the eyes of the Firemind. "Uh, wha? Oh, sorry, can't talk; observing my clients."

The frilled dragon bellowed. "Seriously, man! You gotta stop this passive observation thing. People'll think you don't have a life."

The necromancer laughed. "What, 'sides from lookin' in front of a reversifyin' glass all day?"

The Firemind frowned. "Your point?"

Razia impatiently cradled the rapidly denaturing wine with her hand. "Look, can we move this along? I have this biting urge to beat someone up in the name of justice. Which reminds me?" She caught her sword's hilt and slowly pointed it around the other paruns. "You haven't seen the Lord of Secrets lately, have you?"

"Nope" Svogthir shook his head.

"Nuh-uh" Rakdos replied.

"Not recently" Mat answered.

The chairman adjusted his monocle. "Who's he?"

"Well, duh!" Niv immediately blurted out. "He wouldn't be called 'Szadek, Lord of Secrets' if he was seen by more picture jockeys than I was."

The Arbiter shook his head. "It was disappointing that the Lord of Secrets didn't acknowledge us his presence. We saved a special seat for him." He gestured at a basket-weaved chair reeking of garlic, which forced the others to back away. "Still, may I order you my impatient friend, to hold your blade?"

Razia fumed. "Arbiter, you realize that that vampire has been on top of the Legion's wanted list since the moroii outbreak of '64."

"This urge will have to wait. Now that we have established ourselves as the world's new founders, I have taken the liberty of assigning sections of it for you to monitor and maintain, my fellow paruns. Isperia, where is that carbon copy of the Guildpact?" The sphinx threw another scroll with her mouth onto the Arbiter's right. "I appointed my Senate in charge of the judiciary and legislative bodies of the global government."

Svogthir in turn rolled his eyes. "Oh sure, be the bossy one."

Behind his visor, Azor's eye stared at the source of the necromancer's heckling. "Trying to sound smart are you, Svogthir? Very well, then: your responsibility is to help in the disposal of the city's dead, as well as to ensure that everyone is well fed."

The necromancer eye's popped. "Whoo-wee, that's a tall order, most gracious arbiter."

The Arbiter turned to Razia. "Lady of the Firemanes, you will represent the executive branch of this government. It is your duty to defend the participating guilds and protect the guildpact." The angel nodded.

"Rakdos, I have heard a great deal of your organization's hedonistic acts, ranging from simple pleasures to sadistic atrocities that are yet to be investigated."

He stopped from picking his nose and laughed. "Whatever do you mean, my 'ruler of the world'?"

"Do not deny it. Since it is not the Senate's nature to be careless and show hostility towards you, I have thought of a good compromise: indefinite community service until further notice."

"Go ahead and do that, party pooper. My mates and I shall still continue our so-called 'hedonistic acts'. This new world order still needs a little pizzazz. As I would say, "cannodlin' without it hurtin' is like chowin' without saucin'." A part of Azor died as the demonlord said that.

He turned to the vedalken. "Simic, with the growing city comes a growing population. See to it that your guild takes care of it health. Svogthir nudged the far gazing biologist, who shook his head and half-mindedly nodded.

"Mat'Selesnya, you're famous for spiritual fulfillment. Your conclave's task is to soothe the broken spirits of the populace, brought by this atrocious conflict."

The dryad sat down and ceased all movement, as if her collective consciousness have gathered and debated amongst them. She opened her heartwood eyes once more to meet the Arbiter's gaze. "We have pondered, gracious Azor, and we accept this responsibility you entrust."

Azor continued. "Master Firemind, the smartest being in the world,"

"Did'ya hear that, bramble-breath?" Niv nudged Mat's shoulder, breaking her concentration. "He called me smart."

"The world would require your expertise in meta-magic to oversee, construct and maintain its infrastructures."

"Awww. No offence, ruler of the world, but that's sounds like a lot of work. Can't someone else do it?"

"I'm sorry, but I thought you opened a guild of academic wizards?"

"Actually, that guild's just a little project I've been working on. I got bored, so they ended up training themselves, with my regular help of course."

"They could do the work for you, then."

"What a splendid idea! Glad I thought of it." The dragon wizard smiled.

Azor rolled his eyes. "Moving on; great Cisarzim, seeing as how this urban sprawl is further diminishing our virgin areas, your responsibility is the most important one (second to my guild's, of course): protect our wilds, and preserve them for future generations.

"Floating ruler speaks good words. We appreciate your choice. I am most grateful."

Mat's eyes flashed, signifying her alarm. "That's not fair, Grand Arbiter."

"I agree with her." Svoghtir rattled his wooden staff. "This big lug gets to goof off with full use of the wilds while we baby-sit the danged city slickers."

Simic looked over his notes. "It's not that bad."

"Shut up, blueboy!" the necromancer spat. "We know you're just as upset as us on this."

"What you do about it? I'm bigger than you both. I can easily pound you." The Cyclops readied his club.

"We'll see if you'll still think that after I sic my rotwurms on your hairy feet," said Svogthir, as he was about to pound his staff once more.

Isperia sprinted at the middle and lashed her tail onto the necromancer's hand, disarming him. She roared in Cisarzim direction, which stopped and startled his massive frame, causing him to nearly drop his club.

"There will be no conflict between you and Cisarzim, Svogthir. Remember, we are oath-brothers now." Azor reminded them.

"Ergh, one of these days, one-eye." grumbled the death wizard under his breath.

That's almost everyone, except…"Rowan, chairman of the Obzedat."

Rowan almost spat out the white wine. "T-the grand master knows my name?"

"It is a job, Chairman Rowan. As the ruler of the world it is my responsibility to know who you are and what you do. For instance: I know that your conscience is clear Rowan, for your actions are regularly well-intentioned, particularly with your family and flock."

"Well, the Orzhov religion is a rapidly growing following in the city, your highness. We, the Obzedat, have to do everything in our influence to cater for our worshippers."

"I trust that you can handle the economic aspects of our cityworld, then?"

Rowan was stunned. "G-Grand Master, what do we know about the concepts of materiality? We are but humble clerics who collect units of faith, hope and love."

Svogthir blew a raspberry. "This greenhorn is makin' me sick."

"I am sure you can handle this. Everyone has a part to play in ruling the city of Rav, and currency, I am sad to say, is the true blood of civilization: not my laws, the Firemind's knowledge and Svogthir's food."

After Azor gave out this final decision, Rowan nervously accepted. In his mind, he thought of the expected reactions of his fellow Obzedat members who disagreed with the Grand Master's proposal and how they'll miss the sweet pay-offs. He then watched as the helmed sphinx pushed a heavy crate in front them and opened it.

"These" Azor continued, fishing out a device with gilded engravings. "are complimentary flashlights to be given to the guilded officials who witnessed this glorious events. These artifacts are to be used strictly to help a friend in need. Fortunately for you, their usage is not bound by law and can be used anytime. Get one and pass." Most of the paruns found it silly, or unnecessary, to receive these devices, despite them being free.

"Now this concludes the first meeting of the paruns. Please remain for the rest of the festivities, for this will be a day to remember." The mystical tent began to fade out, and the spectral pair who made it rematerialized to cover Azor's rear once more. The paruns were once again immersed in the merrymaking of the Ravnicans of Pillar Square, yet dispersed to meet with their respective guildkin for any updates in this otherwise peaceful time.

Two of the green-aligned guild leaders regretted the Arbiter's decision, most especially Azor's pain-in-the-backside Svogthir, after he gave Cizarsim what they believed was the biggest responsibility (not to mention privilege) with "caring" for the city. Mat'Selesnya and the Necromancer secretly desired to band together and tear down the alpha male and have their rightful piece of pie, despite their differences in philosophies. Simic too felt he was offered the short end of the stick, realizing over pickled olives after stopping from his observations. Being the passive fellow that he was though, he decided to let nature and fate do its course.

Rakdos chatted over the crowd's noise with his latest proxy, and both guffawed heartily at the sentence the Arbiter imposed on him and his guild. As one can tell, he didn't care what the ruler of the world said, for the show would still go on. The blood witch began to discuss new "distractions" with her master as the strength of the threat diminished in their heads.

The Firemind called his devoted proteges to him telepathically, describing his plans for making this city better for its folk. Despite his vain personality, he had enough faith that his proteges couldn't screw up this city as much as the plain folks did many years ago. Before he got bored, as he often did, he quickly brainstormed a way to improve the newly established city of guilds. He straightened his long red neck and watched his massive scaled brethren fly overhead over the clear skies. His ruffled his frills and smiled a draconic grin, for a tragic yet satisfying idea formed from his fiery brain...

Rowan's head was spinning with as he walked back to his section of the crowd while accompanied by two golden-armored bodyguards. He and five of the ten original members of the Obzedat agreed to have the Syndicate be a member of the Guildpact. The five, dressed to impress in finest golden fleece and egyptian cotton, shook his hands and gave high-fives since the treaty went well. The other four would be very disappointed that they didn't agree to this and have a cut of their share; still, that's how the Obzedat made their decisions. Rowan began to wonder what to do with the material responsibility Azor bestowed on his guild, but judging by the dollar signs forming on their eyes, his teammates had a pretty good idea...

Razia fumed as she found her party and regrouped, for the Arbiter's meeting wasted thirty minutes of her time. A sargeant reported that they captured several shady characters in the crowds since Azor's bodyguards made the spectral tent. She ordered them to question the supects for the Lord of Secret's whereabouts, for they will bound to crack. She flapped her wings and too flight to continue the rest of the search. Szadek had to be out there...

"What a naive fool, that Grand Arbiter. " Boiled tea flowed within the fanged gullet of a shrewd-looking gentleman wearing bottle-glass shades as he spat at his equally pale-skinned compatriot with a barely-concealing bucket hat, not far from the Guildpact Square. "I can't believe he actually invited me to write my name on this magical treaty of his. I wouldn't want to be a part of any club that would have me as a member." he declared, risking looking like an idiot to the indifferent patrons of the bar.

"Still," He plucked a spiny quill with a pulsating eyeball from his breast pocket, its tip oozing crimson ink as if it was recently used. "It doesn't hurt to take advantage of its benefits, am I right?"