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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

i'm not afraid of walls i'm afraid of crushingly tiny spaces, that's a real fear101.180.53.52Posted On January 29, 2017 at 12:40 AM by Rixon Leifsson


The words that pressed upon his mind, affording him knowledge of his companions plan momentarily saw those white ears prick forward. Frost so genuinely affording the Hunter his attention for perhaps the first time, violet gaze lingering upon him beneath that white forelock before moving to cast across those huddling peasants. Most of them looked barely capable of standing let alone fighting and yet even Frost was willing to admitting letting them die fighting was preferable to merely abandoning them in the snow and leaving them to freeze and yet- that stallion is assured he would have done it all the same. Those whom had something to live for, in the least, might prove to fight better. Frost merely offering a snort in response though he proffered no rebuttal, satisfied with the Hunters plan. It was that scent of blood then that seemed to distract them both. The stallion attuned to that salty, metallic smell if only because his species so demanded it off him. His head tilted slightly allowing his good eye to locate the wound at the mans neck. While hardly lethal or even dangerous to a Hunter the wound appeared angry, bleeding weakly, that venom no doubt irritable and itching as it tried its best to spread through Alexander’s blood only to meet his own immunity. Frost shifted slightly, heavy hooves thudding against the earth, stilling to allow Alex to access those saddle bags in search of a bandage.

Here, let me, before you draw every vampire in the place here. I can’t get rid of the venom but I can close the bite marks.

His own affinity was summoned to life readily then, Frost angling his head back to press his muzzle to the man’s neck, drawing that wound away from him and onto the stallion himself. The bite appearing upon his own flesh and yet without that accompanying venom or saliva his own healing moved rapidly to seize on it, beginning to close it over within minutes and remove that smell of blood from the air. Any words he might have offered the man in the wake of it were hardly given the chance to form, his head jerking to the side as that woman went tearing into the darkness and away from her companion. This single action seeming to unsettle those peasants in turn while the fleeing girl screamed bloody murder, Frost loping forward to follow after her with ever intention of bringing her back before a vampiric army descended upon them well before they were prepared. His head swung low, ducking under that lower ceiling in the tunnel that led away from that open cavern, his dislike of those cramped spaces pressing upon him as he attempted to think of something, anything else then those walls crushing against him. Reaching the girl hardly proved difficult, the wretched woman attempting to use him as an escape vehicle or sorts before shrieking in Russian about some sort of monster and taking off into the darkness. It hardly took long for the stallion to so align such ideas, the heavy horse pivoting in place to canter back down that tunnel, seeking Alexanders mind hurriedly and yet not hurriedly enough- that vampiric demoness grasping the Hunter by the shirt before hurling him across the room like a rag doll.

His own momentum carried him forward, forehooves striking at the undead creature with little hope of truly hitting her, more so he simply desired to distract her from her hunter target as heat surrounded his own form like a shield- burning the vampire as she lunged for him in turn before she seemingly evaporated. Fucking stupid creature. His nostrils flared, ears flicking, searching for the woman, assured she could hardly have gone far as his tail lashed in agitation. The war horse so loathing to be bested before he wandered towards his downed companion. He hardly offered Alexander any assistance, violet gaze merely assuring the Hunter was hardly dead before watching him haul himself to his feet, oblivious in that moment, to the spark of determination being knocked down had so stirred within his rider. The man was no sooner on his feet then that shuffling from behind saw the horse turn, scowling as much as an equine was capable of doing as those peasants begun to wordlessly organise themselves into rows, columns and lines. A war formation. His gaze cast back to Alexander once more, the man proceeding to march along those columns like some sort of general. Was he commanding them? How? Those faint tendrils of power brushing against Frost himself until the equine found himself almost inclined to arch his neck over and pick up his feet a little more, that rise in adrenaline in the crowd around him seeing the horse respond almost instinctively. He could feel that shift in energy. Frost almost relishing it. His ears pricked forward once more as Alexander moved, the Hunters speech seeming to only further inspire those previously downtrodden peasants until their shouts filled that cave. Weapons seeming to appear in their hands.

Just when was his Highness going to tell me he had this sort of power, hmmm?

He could hardly help the way his own mind turned with the possibility of those powers ad just what his rider might be capable off before the man grasped at his mane, swinging up and onto his back once more. Frost, this time, affording no protest as Alexander declared them now ready to face the oncoming vampire army. The stallions ears pricking forward, turning away from Alex to focus on what lay in that tunnel alone.

I can hear them. They are coming. There is….a few.

He could hardly tell how many from sound or scent alone, multiple footsteps merely indicating a crowd and yet, for the first time, the stallion simply remained where he stood, that energy coiling within himself, eagerness lacing his veins and yet he waited. So having decided to trust Alexander in this. Perhaps he so enjoyed toying with his rider on occasion and yet a true battle was no game. The stallion inclined to act as a war horse should, remaining perfectly in place until he felt the man’s heels touch his sides. That vampire woman was the first to reappear within the virtual centre of those peasant ranks, two men taken down within mere seconds and yet they had little chance to afford their men any assistance, a stream of vampires pouring in through that cave opening. The undead far faster than any mortal could hope to be. The sudden touch of heels to his sides say the horse lunge forward with far more energy then he has ever truly put into moving before, covering that ground in mere strides before to bring Alexander in line with several of those vampires, lowering his head to let the man swing his sword unencumbered. Who or what Alexander struck remained to be seen, Frost proving attentive to that subtle shift in weight of his companion, swinging and turning as needed, maintaining that loping pace to keep the pair moving and make them a more difficult target.

Something sharp sliced into his own left flank, that hot feeling of blood running down his leg and yet beyond that sting the stallion was hardly inclined to feel it, his leg hardly worse for wear before one vampire launched itself from somewhere in the gloom in some attempt to crash tackle Alexander to the ground and from him. The vampires seeming to have decided that Alexander, upon horseback, was a far more deadly target then he would be unhorsed. Frosts own form swung to the left, turning a sudden, tight circle, one that allowed his own head to swing back, teeth sinking into the vampires thigh, his sheer strength utilised to haul the vampire from both Alexander and himself, dropping him to the ground only to allow his own hooves to trample over him- the crack and snap of bone echoing into that cavern along with those screams and shouts and snarls. His pale form was streaked with red, most of it hardly his own, Frost swinging back into that loping canter to keep them moving, one hind leg struck out to kick a vampire as they passed and send him sprawling freeing the peasant man beneath him and allowing the fellow to strike back. Alexander so flawlessly maintaining his balance throughout. Hmm. Maybe he had underestimated the man. A heel to his side saw the stallion turn before Alexander sat back, bringing him to a halt- that vampire woman so placed directly across the room from them now, a broadsword in hand, several dead men- missing their heads- scattered around her feet, her bloodied lips pulled into an almost joyus grin before her eyes fell upon Alexander alone.

It was another touch of heels that sent Frost lunging forward again, ears lacing back into his man- a direct charge towards the vampire woman, her sword lifted in clear anticipation of just this and yet Frost hardly faltered, even when her thoughts so begun to trickle into his mind. The stallion continuing that charge.

She is going to swing that sword at my legs, she’s going to try and bring me down and you with me as soon as we are in range. I can hear her thoughts. Give me an order


f r o s t
we built this city on broken glass




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