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    The North

    Within the Northern vicinity of the city the wealthy gather behind meticulously trimmed hedges and high class victorian architecture. The streets are paved with stone, the buildings are made of brick, and the storefronts are brightly lit and inviting. In the North every establishment is made to cater to the rich and the wealthy. Many such places are used to the sometimes peculiar requests of the otherworldly but here there is little that money cannot buy - weather it be illegal or merely looking the other way. Vampires and Dark Hunters are often found upon these Northern streets, their long lives often contributing to their sizable wealth which allow them the luxuries that the North provides.

    What's You'll Find Here

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    St. Pancras Station

    owned by Eve Thorn
    0 employees

    St. Pancras Station

    A historical train station renovated in to a luxury resort-style country club that unites Victorian elegance with contemporary style. Relax in the full-service spa featuring spa treatments, saunas, spa pools with hydro therapy & aqua bar, and relaxation lounges. The club offers many dining and entertainment options including Seven Sisters Lounge, Victoria Bistro, Barlow Gastropub and the formal St. Pancras restaurant as well as boutique shopping and event halls. Join The Chambers Club for a more exclusive entertainment experience.

    Owner Eve Thorn

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    The VooDoo Room

    owned by Ceara Hade
    0 employees

    The VooDoo Room

    The Voodoo Room is an award winning bar that aims to provide an eclectic and exotic atmosphere. The bar is filled with intoxicating liquors and a voodoo vibe to keep you coming back. Their mixologists meet the highest standards with our fantastical themed selections of cocktails and specials.

    Owner Ceara Hade

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    The Witchery

    owned by Rowena Metcalf
    1 employees

    The Witchery

    Dark, gothic, and throughly theatrical, the Witchery is a place to indulge yourself with it's fabulously lavish suites. Whatever room you choose, you'll find glamor, indulgence and luxury. The suites you have to choose from are: the Vestry, Sempill, the Old Rectory, the Library, the Turret, Heriot, Guardsroom, Armory.

    Owner Rowena Metcalf

    Sous Chef Elenore Dorian

Dead man walking;184.148.42.215Posted On August 24, 2017 at 8:14 AM by Brennan O'Connell

all that is gold does not glitter
not all who wander are lost


Something certainly felt a little off. What in the hell were these demon creatures doing here? How were they wandering this random neighbourhood as if they were following him here? There was simply too much going on for him to wonder what the hell was going on and more focused on, you know, the whole surviving bit. He had a knack at staying alive and keeping himself in one piece. But making sure the safety of another or a whole damn neighbourhood was just mind boggling. He was still trying to find his footing amidst the land of the living.

This girl, girl were creature certainly had guts he would give her that much. She stared at the monster as if it were a regular everyday occurrence. She didn’t shy, not even once, not even with his warnings. Of course, he thought it was damn foolish, but it was in the same breath extremely brave. But then she had to go and open her mouth.

Human? Just who did she think he was talking to? It was the whole illusion though at least he succeeded at, to blend in and appear human, but human he was most certainly not. “I’m starting to wonder if maybe you got a concussion, you hurt?” That Irish lilt reached out to her, that teasing mocking voice trying to reach her between the grunts of the creature.

She rode the beast like a bucking bronco still managing to smirk at him, clearly fearless of those razor sharp claws that could easily slice through delicate tender flesh. She certainly was plucky wasn’t she? She slices at its back like she was born to do it with furry hands and elongated nails. In all honestly, from here she looked straight out of a classic werewolf movie. He didn’t waste that much time contemplating this before darting into action. But the beast had other plans and it lunged for him, his sharpened talons slicing through the air that it sweetly sang, far to close for his liking as it no doubted hoped it would make its mark and kill him with one foul stroke of its beast-like hands. If you could call it hands. Shit that was too damn close. But he was still alive.

He wasted no more time before those battle worn hands swung the blade he had summoned, making damn sure it was embedded enough into its thick, nearly impermeable scaly hide. That skin was like armour and it took considerable strength to plunge that blade within its flesh. Although, it was hardly enough to slay the beast, he was certainly under no delusions it was enough to do that.

Importantly enough, his plan had been to put the explosive device within that wound. Monster blows up into a million tiny disgustingly gooey, fleshy pieces and that would give you one very dead creature. In theory, his plans always seemed better than the actual execution of it. But if the girl played her part, they could possibly make it out just fine, organs and life intact. He wasn’t asking for much here.

He needed a little help to access that fresh wound his blade made. He needed the creature to rise up once more. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to argue, instead she responded with an arrogance that rivaled his own. He raised a brow in an amused expression just as she slashed and hacked away at his head.

He dexterously moved, darting away from the flailing arms of the beast. Everything almost felt like it moved in slow motion, that he could predict its movements before it even happened. He had done this deadly dance on more than one occasion, in his hellish playground. The beast bellowed out its frustration, the girl clearly wounding the beast to play her part. Its inky black blood splashed across his face, streaming down his cheek. With his free hand he summoned his power to create a deadly grenade. It would do the trick.

“On my word, jump off and run like hell.” The Irishman directed, hoping she heard him amidst the commotion. This was going to be messy. Why did anything involving demons always manage to be messy? As if on cue the beast rose up in irritation, he moved forward without a second thought. He plunged the grenade within the beast’s chest cavity, the gaping wound that he left with his blade. The grenade was within his hand, in a tight fist his finger toying with the pin so that as he pulled away his hand the pin came along with it. In these moments, everything seemed to go in slow motion. His hand was effectively drenched with the inky blood substance. “NOW, girl NOW.” He shouted out, no demanded with a hint of pleading, hoping damn well she chose to listen to him or it would soon hurt like hell, or worse, she could die from the explosion. She had a good 10 seconds to get the hell out of dodge, he summoned a grenade with a longer detonation time than the typical 4 seconds. It came in handy in times like this. Now if she listened, his only job would be to make sure the beast didn’t chase after her. He felt that nagging sensation of feeling somewhat responsible for the peculiar, spunky girl. He would do everything within his power to ensure her safety.

Brennan O'Connell




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