The encampment of the force occupying Hildmoor spans as far as the eye can see: hundreds of canvas tents arrayed in a strict and rigid pattern. At the centre stands the commanders' tent, a bigger tent holding maps and charts which are used by the commanders to discuss their war strategies and tactics. To the left and right of it are various tents holding grain and supplies, along with the carts to haul it. Also in the centre is the acolyte's wagon. All around are the soldiers' barracks housing the imperial army. The square encampment is surrounded by ditches and pallisades, and sentries stand guard day and night at the front and rear exit.
Inside the camp, order and discipline reigns. None of the soldiers wanders around aimlessly, they are all either training, digging, doing laundry, or standing guard.
The encampment is erected in the same fashion each time the army moves. Every soldier always knows where to find everything. Each messenger entering the camp always knows where to go.
At one side, near the outer ditch, something is out of place however. A large square area has been spanned with tall walls of canvas, blocking what is inside from sight. From above, one could see tall poles with bright search lights attached to it, vehicles and rusted machinery arrayed in a loose grid, and in between, mercenaries milling about, or gathered around small trashcan fires. The smell of oil is everywhere. Light vehicles and motorcycles ride around, tires shrieking, leather burning, dust shaking, threatening to run over a small boy. Once you actually get inside the area, things get even weirder.