The Twins weren't always dying, at least not everything. The land wasn't always bathed in red, the glow emanating from the ground and the towers which helped dement its name. The drone which sweeps through the demesne didn't always carry on in soft discordance, unnerving those who traveled in the region.
Once, the land was peaceful, verdant, green.
Far before history was reliably recorded, Baron Henders von Alden oversaw the protection of the lands. The young man, gifted the countryside through devilish pact, was hell-bent on maintaining the country which he fought so hard to earn. He had slain an ancient dragon at the behest of a devil from the hells, whose blood he used to sign the contract granting him eternal life to rule among his chosen followers.
Nestled between the twin lakes whose estuaries spilled into the Dej Sea, Baron von Alden saw to it that his lands were protected from all who sought to tear from them prosperity. He made such a name for himself that he rarely needed to raise a fighting force to defend his people, and in the few times which necessitated violent action, Baron von Alden led the charge, striking fear into those who harried his barony.
As the years passed, rumors spread among the common folk. Their baron, lord and protector of their realm, did not age. He took many spouses, and of those who made their way into his gnarled twin towers, none ever left. Over time, as generations lived and died under his prosperous rule, it grew apparent to those who paid attention that their baron was more than met the eye. Tales of a long-lost duel with a vampire queen, of pacts made with devils and deals struck with deities spread among those who sought to investigate the origins of the baron’s power, but very few cared. Even if their benevolent ruler sought aid from less favorable powers, he kept the area safe from neighboring duchies and baronies, secure from those who sought to break the status quo.
The barony of The Twins sat comfortably in its place in Faliene. Crops grew fruitfully, cattle grazed peacefully, and all who lived in the lands did so content with their lot in life.
Given the meticulously maintained peace, the people of The Twins were willing to turn a blind eye, even to accept, the Red Tax.
The Red Tax lent credence to the rumors of vampirism which shrouded Baron von Alden, and while he spent decades attempting to dash the rumors, on a particularly hungry night, von Alden finally confirmed the tales. Rumors shifted to a shared knowledge as the people of The Twins came to expect, and even name, each full moon as “The Red Tax.” Baron von Alden would alternate between hamlet, village, and town within the barony and seek a candidate to join him, to dine in the towers in which he lived. Very few ever returned from this voyage, and those who did came back changed, enlivened with a sense of devotion to house von Alden otherwise thought impossible among the common folk.
As the Red Tax grew expected among the residents of the barony, townspeople grew to fear their baron. Even so, the villagers understood the peace which Baron von Alden maintained. To forego surprise elections, towns established lotteries to nominate the next full-moon participant, and mothers prayed their children would not pull the dotted stone.
Not all prayers were answered, but the grief stricken were comforted by neighbors who assured them that the peace which the baron maintained was worth more than a child or two.
Once Baron Henders von Alden made a wife of young Zola von Alden, a Red Tax candidate from Hollyhead, the story of the idyllic land seemed to shift. Gleemen brought whispers from the Witches of the Odamel Wode, prophecies which foretold that “the land’s darkest hour would be the redemption of the family von Alden.”
The barony of The Twins was wreathed in relative peace, but the prophecy hung over the estate like a dark cloud ready to split with rain. None put much stock into rumors from outside the borders of the barony, but very few were willing to share the prophetic words, even in the quiet corners of empty taverns.
Only Emperor Faern IX brought credence to the prophecy.
While the emperor was no friend to the undead, he did not seek out the von Aldens because they were vampires. He did so because the empire sought their land and their people. The insurgence came swiftly in the night, with Faern himself staking the vampire baron and his bride before burning the two to ash. The emperor claimed the Shield of von Alden which conferred rulership of the land, and in a swift evening struggle, the von Aldens were no more.
Even so, the whispered prophecy seemed to hang on the wind. The people of The Twins lamented the loss of their old baron, recalling the age before the coming of the empire as a golden one. As long as the memory of the family von Alden persisted, the people continued to believe that their baron would one day return to deliver them in their hour of need.
They were right.
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