Deep in the heart of the Transylvanian Alps, where fog clung to the trees like a possessive lover, lay the quaint, eerily picturesque village of Mirkwood. The villagers, blissfully unaware of the supernatural world around them, lived their days in peaceful ignorance. But beneath this veil of normalcy was a hidden world of vampires and werewolves, who, despite their dark histories and ancient grudges, had found a peculiar way to coexist.
At the center of this truce was The Undead Social Club, a meeting place where vampires and werewolves gathered to hash out their differences and, more importantly, share a drink or two. Tonight was a special night, for it was the monthly gathering of the Vampires and Werewolves Committee (VWC).
"Vlad, you're late again!" roared Fenrir, the alpha werewolf, as he saw the tall, dark figure of Count Vladimir von Bloodlust III enter the club.
