Claius Vondale (Impregnable Fortress, Geraldis)
The days were getting warmer, and the evergreens were finally emerging from their coats of snow. The sun was out, for the first time in months, and to Claius, this was very good news. The winter was prolonged and the Guardians yielded less crops than ever before. The less people were fed, the less they could work, which eventually led to even less crops being produced. He would round up a party now and then in order to exit the fortress to hunt for some game, but even then the prey was scarce. Luckily, the Geraldi kept their distance from the fortress, otherwise there would have been none at all in the forest. Claius remembered the faces of his peers when they would bring back some deer or a rabbit. They all were hovering over the stew before it was even done. Claius chuckled. In hindsight, it must have been an amusing sight.
Now, in the spring, they had more access to growing and hunting for food. It also marked the crowning of the new king of Luina. Perhaps they would finally be accepted back into their ancestral homelands. It was promising, but Claius didn’t want to count on it; it hasn’t happened in the past couple hundreds of years. The Guardians had to live a hard life in the Rolaschan Mountains. Even in the summer, the ground would be littered in snow, and in the winter, well, it was hell. The worst part was that they had no opportunities to trade or communicate with the other provinces, since they were all flagged as enemies of the Crown.
A new king meant new possibilities, but it was all just a possibility nonetheless. Today was the day another Andelorn would rise to power, and to the Guardians, it was no day to celebrate. Not yet. They deserved better than to be treated as fugitives, outcasts. If the king was rational, he would recognize that. Claius descended the stairs of the fortress walls, where his comrades were all huddling around a flickering fire.
“How is it out there, Clay?” One of them asked. This was Major General Illya, a graceful woman and a personal friend since childhood.
“Not much,” he said, brushing flecks of snow off of his hair. “Some of that snow is melting, thank god. We probably can get back to our normal procedures of hunting and planting.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Carrots and lettuce again, huh? Honestly that stuff is getting disgusting.” She rummaged through a large pouch, pulled out a healthy chunk of dried venison, and tossed it to Claius. He assumed a seat next to the other officers.
“Well,” he said, “it’s all we got so we might as well eat it.” Illya rolled her eyes and continued eating her share of the food.
“Son.”
Claius looked up, to see his father standing over him. Even though they both were equals, Commanders, he always had respect for his father, and idolized him. It was because of Saxo Vondale’s legendary leadership that the Guardians was able to survive countless nights through the freezing cold winters. Claius tried follow his father’s footsteps, but he always felt lacking.
“We need to organize a meeting. Illya, Lotis, you guys should probably come, too. It’s to discuss our plans, moving forward.” Saxo said. Claius raised an eyebrow. This was news to him, for his plan was to continue the status quo, perhaps expanding the fortress ever so slightly and building more shelters for their growing population. His father must have had something different it mind— of course he did. On the prospect of war, of course, there was little that the two agreed on.
Claius sighed and got up, out of respect for his father. He knew that there is going to be some debate as to this new proposed plan of his.