Loc Druedanann
Klamath Mountains
Loc Druedanann Castle, built up over generations from a modest keep into an imposing fortress tucked away within the Klamath Mountains of North-Western California in what the ancient era referred to as Del Norte County, or, what was once California in the ancient days before The Fall. Loc Druedanann got its name from the Lake over which the Fortress sits as a sits on the side of one of the spines sprouting from the Mountain ridges that form deep valleys. Chosen not only for its remoteness but also its defensible position. For the Fortress needed relatively few to garrison it effectively. Shrouded by dense forests the ruins of the past still could be found here and there. A few dozen Leagues to the West by the Great Western Sea (Pacific Ocean) the ruins of a city (formerly Crescent City) could be seen poking out above the waves. The buildings long since covered in vines, collapsed, eroded, buried, or destroyed by centuries of neglect. Remnants of a forlorn time. Now only home to a small fishing enclave to the South sporting a few dozen folk of Native stock eeking out a modest living.
But far closer to the castle, the panting of breaths by lungs pulling in air in great gasps could be heard along with the rhythmic drum of bare feet on dirt. Followed by the drumming of hooves and the shouts of an older man like a shepherd herding his flock of sheep.
"Faster Jaames, you're falling behind! Kraig watch your pace you still have a mile to go. Traveling with speed without a horse is a game of athletic brains as well as stamina! Ash...good get that breathing steady!"
The trio of youth raced through the foliage making a B-line back to the Fortress. The middle aged man on the horse followed with his white hair tied back in a knot. They were all armed and armored to some degree. But the rules of this exercise called for at least 50 pounds of weight be burdened. The group had spent four days trekking the wilderness. This was dubbed an "Outing" by the young Hunters in training. Where older Hunters would take them out to study native fauna and animals, to learn survival techniques and skills, and most of all build strength and stamina.
"Come on! If I was a Demi-Wolf I'd have run you down a day ago! Use your in born strength. Bipeds have greater stamina than quadrupeds! There you go Kraig! Jaames keep steady you're past the hard part!"
The jingling of mail and swords formed a keen music as the youth, barefoot for this last day, raced along. All of them had run barefoot many times in training to teach them to value footwear and to take care of their feet and boots. The souls of their feet long since callused over and thick from the rigorous training regimen of the Order.
The urging and panting carried on for another mile till they passed through the Gates of the Fortress and into the hooting, hollering, and cheering Hunters that were going about their business. Loc Druedanann was hardly ever able to see all or even half of the order at any given time. The Order itself never being particularly numerous for starters. As of 788 roughly 404 people were recorded as "Alive" on the muster rolls. But that included retired Hunters who lived at Loc Druedanann or else ware, trainees, and Invalids wounded but still alive. In reality the full muster of members of Hunter/Huntress status and above who were still active numbered only 266.
As the three youths were dismissed and entered the central keep to wash up and rest the older Hunter dismounted his stead. Walking calmly he was approached by an older looking man that seemed still fit enough to fight despite the advanced age showing on his face. This was evident by the sword strapped to his hip.
The middle aged Hunter nodded and spoke, "Casius."
"Aran", the short version of his name, "How are the rookies? Good Outing?"
Arandyn shrugged before he replied, "Jaames seemed to have trouble for the last six miles but made it. Might be his lungs again. Ever since that bout of Pneumonia his stamina has been suffering. The other two looked in good shape."
"Hawkarrow feared as much from the lad. Took heavy doses of Lungsense and Ice-Wallow to cleanse the boys body of that illness. I have Lothair and Benihold looking into improving the heating in the boys rooms by next Winter." The old Hunter crossed his arms as he finished with something obvious on his mind.
"What is it Cas?" asked Arandyn with narrowed eyes.
"Assignment came in today. Contractual work. Emperor of Vyrengaard no less. Needs some of us to kill something the letter didn't specify. Anyways I figured you'd want to go up North, take Syra with you. Gods know she needs more field training."
Arandyn signed as he gave his reply, "Whats His Imperial Majesty paying?"
"Offered 50 Silver Florins up front. 20 gold Crowns once the job is done. Food and housing will be paid for by His Highness."
"Very well, we leave tomorrow." Arandyn put a hand on the older Hunter's shoulder before parting and heading into the Fortress.
The Emperor of Vyrengaard was a powerful figure, to call on the Order meant he needed discretion in whatever he was dealing with, people who won't talk or take bribes easily. This intrigued Arandyn. The Order was a regular for receiving work from Nobles and the like, their special skills in hunting the more monstrous beasts that plague civilization made them an obvious choice for the right price, and the fact that the Order kept tight lips in regards to assignments and contracts made them that much more enticing to hire.
Vyrengaard
Imperial Palace
Vyrengaard was an Empire and a City. The latter, the city, straddled a river and encircled a lake. The largest city West of the Great Desert (former Mid-West) to the East and a symbol of Imperial power. The Empire, and the current Emperor, marked its existence by expansion and protection. As a result foreigners often had mixed opinions. Positive opinions typically revolved around the Empire and Emperor being a patron of the arts and commerce. The negative regarding the Empire's aggressive attitude to foreign policy and brutal crushing of rebellious sentiments.
Within the bowels of the fortress palace the Emperor looked at a map of the Western coast with the eye of a bird of prey. He eyed the lands belonging to the County of Eugen (former Eugene, Oregon). Count Georg II of Eugen ruled a small stretch of land around the walled town he dominated. Wilderness encroached on all sides and to the North was the Free City of Salem which was home to the Order of Magi. Salem was deemed neutral territory. But to the North and West lay Imperial lands ruled by the Emperor's subject peerage. The furthest Southerly stretch of his Imperial Dominion. Georg II was aging, at 73, and had diplomatically resisted bending the knee to Vyrengaard for years. Being to small to be regarded as a major player in regional politics outside of the former Oregon territories. But now times had changed, and having completed a five year purge of the Imperial nobility the Emperor sought to push his borders further South.
Across from the Emperor stood Field Marshal Affrim vy Lopech. Vy Lopech was officially a Count in the Imperial Peerage and ruled over Lopech Island (former Lopez Island). Slightly younger than the Emperor but with graying hair and greater wrinkles Affrim could be arguably seen as older. Yet, the commander of the Imperial Army still stood resolute like a pillar of granite.
"Your Grace. Eugen would only require perhaps a thousand men to crush. I recommend just mobilizing levies from our Southern fiefs and crushing Georg immediately."
"No, Affrim, My forebears and I did not build this Empire, this regime, on sending others to do our dirty work; at least, not every time. We will send the Albion Division in force with supporting levies from our Southern fiefs. I suspect Georg will attempt to hide behind his walls when we come knocking. I want troops that are dependable to invest in a possible siege.
The Albion Division was headquartered in Vyrengaard itself within the Imperial Barracks. Regarded as crack heavy infantry the Albionites had been the vanguard of many a siege.
"What of the Hunters you are contracting?" spoke up Affrim.
"There is a coven of Vampires in Vyrengaard I want destroyed. I thought about sending in my Army but I want to be sure. I was sure the last time those bloodsuckers were eradicated they cropped up again several years later within our very capitol. Twice corpses have been fished out of the lake by the constabulary with fang marks on their neck. I want a...specialists touch."
Affrim smirked on that last sentence.
