Champions, Craftsmen, Campaigns and Catastrophes
Copyright© 2026 by FozzieBare
Chapter 10: New Beginnings
Freedom apparently meant receiving an email sent through an anonymizing service that gave away nothing and promised everything.
It wasn’t a scam. At least it wasn’t an obvious scam.
First, it offered the anonymous emailer’s condolences about what happened. That maybe not everybody believed he was innocent, but enough people did. It even used the line “To those who don’t know you, no explanation will suffice. To those who do know you, really know you, none will be needed.”
They went on to say they had a very specific opportunity. His bullshit detector shot upward. It required a very particular mindset. The needle climbed nearer the red.
It finished the paragraph with. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you deleted the email at this point. But don’t. Please.”
He snorted again.
Then his mental jaw dropped.
“I spent an hour tracking down Ken Worthy, (you know him as Keilworth), because he was originally on my head-hunting list. Once I convinced him I wasn’t a bullshit artist, or at least that I was a sincere bullshit artist, he told me that I didn’t want him. I was chasing the wrong man.
I thought he was. Otherwise I wouldn’t have spent the time and effort finding him in the first place. When I described the role to him, he told me flat out that if I hired him, it’d all blow up in my face, and I would deserve it for trying to force a square peg in a round hole.
In short, let me describe the position as it stands. Then I want you to think about it. Really think about it. After that, let me know whether you’ll at least agree to meet me in person.
I need someone to start a guild.
Guild leaders are a dime a dozen. I can already hear you saying it. But I don’t merely need a guild leader. I need someone who can build one from the ground up.
Someone who understands numbers. Someone who can produce maximum output, not through brute force, but by finding exactly where effort generates the greatest return. I’m not cheating. Any growth in a Universe at War guild requires effort. Finding people willing to put in that effort is one thing. Maximizing what their effort produces is another altogether.
I need someone who can reassure people when the numbers are telling the truth. Just as importantly, tell them flat out when those same numbers are singing a siren’s song of destruction. Someone who can see the rocks and shoals hidden beneath the numbers. Ken told me you’d appreciate the metaphor.
There is one other piece to the puzzle. You’ll be paid no matter what, but you won’t be building this guild alone. That is assuming I can convince my other candidate to take the role I have in mind for him.
You will, however, have operational control.
I’ll put that in writing.
I can guarantee at least six months paid salary for your effort. At that point, we’ll meet, and we both can decide if we want to continue the partnership at that point. No metrics, no “you have to be this big this soon”. No “You have to make a splash”. Just “do we like where we’re going, and do we want to continue?
If you do your job right, none of that metrics bullshit would be necessary.
I hope you at least give it your consideration.
Oh, and if you have any doubts about my sincerity, reach out to Ken. I really think he thinks the world of you. He knows who I am, but I think if I told you before I had a chance to meet you face to face, you’d be convinced you were on a prank show.
Thanks.
The numbers didn’t add up to Elias, and he almost discarded the email after thinking long and hard about it. But then he realized that the person TOLD him the equivalence of that he knew the numbers didn’t add up, but he still wanted Elias to at least meet with him.
He had been musing about freedom and being a free agent, and his mind drifted to Me and Bobby McGee. “Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose.”
What did he risk by taking the meeting? One afternoon. What might it lead to? Six months of paid work, and nobody went hunting for Keilworth to offer minimum wage.
And he’d be a part of something again. Something he got to build from the ground up.
He straightened his shoulders. He was sitting up straight for the first time in what felt like days.
What the hell. I’m in.
Well, At least I’ll put a toe in the water.
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