Seagurt Kay'anin, Captain Commander of the Eleven Knights, became King after defeating the demon halfbreed Vannon with the help of the Sunseeker Union, during the Zanar-a-Marax War in Farsk, thus signaling what we refer to as the Kay'anin Era.

He built the Kingdom of Aldora atop the corpse of Vannon to prevent the Zanar-a-Marax from obtaining his bones, the Eleven Knights becoming the Knights of Aldora, sworn to stand guard against any Zanar-a-Marax threat.

In 12 K.E., the Zanar-a-Marax attacked Aldora in an attempt to steal the remains of Vannon. The demons besieged the city, forcing Kay'anin and his knights to flee north to the Sharavod Mountains. It was there Kay'anin discovered the Emperica Mechanica and obtained the Twelve Guns. With these new weapons, they were able to drive the Zanar-a-Marax out of Aldora.

Kay'anin combined armies from the surrounding kingdoms and formed the Ma'arath Alliance, training them in the use of firearms. In 36 K.E., Kay'anin married Namira Sidri of the Sunseeker Union, strengthening bonds between the two kingdoms. Guns were spread throughout the west, modeled from the Original Twelve.

King Seagurt Kay'anin died in 121 K.E. at the age of 152, his only son Farmon Kay'anin succeeding the throne.

The Aldoran Knight's Creed

I fight for King, Noble, Freemen and Slave.
I fight for every man who draws breath under the flag of Aldora.
With sword and gun I defend the most basic of liberties from those who seek to take it.
With heart and soul I give my life, for my blood is worth no more than any other.

21, Fifth Star, 109 K.E.

Upon arriving in Sketivell, I was immediately taken aback by the sheer size. This village had for years been described as nothing more than a haven for fugitives and outlaws, where no man should ever rest even when on the verge of death.
Yet today, the high walls and ascending spires of the central cathedral had me faint of breath. Walking towards the town square on fine cobblestone streets, I gaped in wonder at the vast array of artistry displayed on various places of business; murals painted in every conceivable color spectrum had been sprawled on any flat surface in sight. Guilded roofs capped stout brick mansions, their wide arched doors warm and welcoming.
This once dilapidated city was transformed into a bustling metropolis of culture and prosperity in just under four years. I made my way past throngs of peddlers with too much merchandise towards the square proper.
Midday mass had concluded an hour prior, and I was given the chance to speak with a rather peculiar priest by the name of Reverend Himsfeld, a man of short stature, yet with an aura of tall respect.
Asking him how Sketivell's transformation was possible, he laughed and responded only with "With the word of God at the heart, anything can glow bright." As he turned and exited down a nearby hallway, I couldn't help but notice the glimmer of a holstered pistol beneath his flowing robe.
I will never fully understand the implications of religious zealots, but I do find it strange that the will of the almighty would be backed by a preacher boasting shooting irons.
With questions unanswered, I continue my exploration. Maybe the remaining town elders could shed some light on my darkened mind.

I buried my brother today,
On the hill that knows no shade.
Close to where birthed were we,
Where ma and pa to rest were laid.

As land I dug and trees we grew,
My twin did give his life for men.
We feed the lives that shed their blood,
In war that e'er have no end.

Last meal I gave him, as he bled,
No tears did fall from my tired eyes.
I only held him close and said,
"No confession, no regrets, no last goodbyes."

He died in my arms, a life now lost,
Needlessly taken by another's blade.
I buried myself with my brother today,
On the hill that knows no shade.

-Unknown Farmer,
The Travels of Di'izan, Volume II