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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 call it spaciously challenged, yes, don't you?101.180.53.52Posted On February 28, 2017 at 11:07 PM by Rixon Leifsson


There was an intrigue of sorts that so beset the heavy warhorse in those moments in which Alexander seemed to rally that previously unused power, the violet gaze of the stallion lingering upon him now. Frost wholly oblivious to the notion that he too, might well have fallen under the effects of his rider’s war rally. The stallion hardly inclined to activate those mental shields he held against such influence when he failed to know it had occurred at all. His mind so rapidly beginning to hold within it that assurance that such a battle was surely worthwhile fighting and that he was almost looking forward to it. An energy of sorts clawing within him, seeing him near prance in place as Alexanders hand fisted within his mane before hauling himself up and onto his back and before those neat rows of peasants whom- despite their rather ragged appearance- had taken on the look of actual soldiers. How curious a power to possess and yet how truly useful too. Frost inquiring as to just when Alexander had been considering mentioning such a talent. That rather dubious answer merely resulting in a snort from the animal before his ears readily picked up upon that approach of those vampiric foot soldiers. There were…more than he had anticipated. The stallion incapable of confirming such numbers with hearing alone and yet almost as quickly the scent of them became apparent to him, that almost rancid sent of blood tugging at his instinctive need to flee it. Frost so pushing back that desire to remain standing, almost obediently waiting for Alexanders command.

It was no small amount of trust that the stallion so bestowed upon that Hunter today. Frost so affording that man control of him, in a sense, with the faith that he would hardly deliberately attempt to see him killed. Frost choosing to trust Alexander’s judgement above his own for perhaps the first time in the entirety of their relationship. For all the difficulties he had so purposefully caused the man, when it came to those more serious moments, to true war- that stallion was entirely content to do as he had been trained to do. Even if somewhat begrudgingly on occasion. The first flood of those vampires into the room saw his ears press backward in disdain, Alexanders heels digging into his sides demandingly a moment later. Frost, for once, so obediently charging forward and into that fray. It was difficult, in a sense, to focus on both his own actions and speed and direction while too- attempting to anticipate Alexanders own intentions and bring the man into striking range of his intended target while attempting to dodge those attacks that came at the both. The stallion wholly assured his own species was never given near enough credit for just how much rested upon his own ability to dodge, run, turn, anticipate, protect and too guide that man upon his back into the best position each time while listening for those entirely non-verbal instructions that moved through the man’s body all at once. That ability to view the man’s thoughts was both help and hindrance. Frost finding it almost easier to merely wait for the man’s instructions rather then find himself near drowning in the Hunters own thoughts that moved a mile a minute. Frost unwilling to allow himself to be distracted by them when he so needed his own attention to fixate upon their path while Alexander fought.

That satisfying sound of steel on flesh resonated readily throughout that cave. Frost attempting to keep his canter even, smooth and predictable lest Alexander unbalance. Vampire after vampire cut down in their wake. Frost’s own truly hefty size allowing the draft stallion to simply trample several vampire whom held the misfortune of standing within his path. His crushing hooves hardly killing them and yet leaving any they strode over in a rather horrific state of damage. The sudden lunge of on vampire so seemed t catch them both off guard. The creature aiming to knock Alexander from his back entirely, Frost turning that tight circle that allowed his teeth to reach the man’s leg and haul him like a rag doll as the hilt of Alexander sword collided firmly with him. That body tossed aside by the stallion a moment later, one ear twitching backward at that singular murmur of praise. Frost turning upon command to face that battlefield again and slow his pace just enough to keep them moving and yet to allow the Hunter to assess. They needed….more practice in so working together, this entirely clear to the often indifferent stallion and yet they were, somehow, surviving so far. Frost aiming a wayward kick at a vampire attempting to maul one of their peasant warriors, sending the undead creature toppling and allowing the peasant the upper hand. Frost wiling enough to afford their own troops any assistance he could muster before Alexanders heels pressed suddenly against him once more, Frost swinging to find his gaze readily falling upon the woman Alexander had spied. The only vampire armed with something other than her teeth and the very one whom had thrown the Hunter into a wall at the beginning of this campaign.

Frost swung easily toward her then, pace increasing to close that gap as quickly as possible, his hooves thundering across that ground as that battle still raged around them. The vampiric creatures thoughts becoming clear to himself the closer the approached, Frost relaying them in turn to the man aboard him before requesting some kind of order. The age-old image of Alexander and another horse that danced briefly within his mind so affording him knowledge of that plan merely saw a snort of acklowdgement pass his lips. His pace increasing once more as he prepared to turn himself the opposite direction to Alexanders intended jump. Frost swinging to the side the moment he felt the Hunter leave that saddle. The vampire’s sword swinging to meet the man before that clash of steel on steel seemed to echo throughout the cavern. Frosts own form continued forward and momentarily away from Alexander, the sounds of that battle ringing within that confined space, the vampire woman content to disappear and re-appear over and over around the Hunter in some effort to slice into him well before he could block. It was a cheap method of fighting, in Frosts own opinion and yet a victory was a victory no matter how it was earned, he supposed, the stallion inclined to hope Alexander managed to remain intact as he continued to loop around. The man hardly foolish enough to stand still lest any of those vampires target him with the goal of removing Alexander’s method of transport.

One ear remained trained upon the Hunter all the same. Listening to the sounds of that battle as Frost moved to offer some assistance to what remained of their own army, teeth and hooves employed to knock down or distract several more vampires and afford those humans more of a chance. Sweat at last beginning to form along his flanks, neck and sides with the effort of this campaign. His white pelt had become a curious blend of pink and red though truly little of that blood was his own. A sudden sound from the side saw him turn his attention from Alexander, a vampire man colliding with him far faster than the heavy horse could truly hope to dodge. One arm wrapped about his neck, the other reaching up to rather painful grab his ear, attempting to twist that soft appendage and force Frost’s head down, those vampiric teeth aiming to bite into the flesh of his neck. The pair spinning about each other as the stallion attempted to both free his head and strike at the vampire holding him. Frost readily calling that affinity then, summoning that heat to his frame that saw the vampire screech as he let go, the stallion lunging a moment later with open jaws, grasping the flesh of the vampires shoulder- as if to see how he liked being bitten. Vile leech of a creature, Frost hauling him backward and into the waiting sword of one of their own, a large chunk of bloodied flesh spat from his lips with a clear disdain.

His violet gaze searched rapidly for Alexander once more, spying the man in those last few moments of that battle, an entirely different affinity called to life now, though why he felt the need to…help him he hardly knew. Frost allowing those illusions to appear. Several ‘other’ Alexanders appearing about the real one. Frost attempting to distract that vampire queen and afford Alexander an opening. Their own army was in veritable ruins with two men and a single young woman still standing, that small group gathering beside the stallion now to watch that final fight. Content to use the horse as a shield. Frost allowing his violet gaze to roll slightly, the man remaining...tense in a fashion lest Alexander need him before the Hunter so finally managed to fell that vampire queen. The cavern descending into silence, leaving but the heavy breaths of those few survivors, Frost striding forward to his companion at last, allowing his illusions to fade out much to the awe of the small crowd who stood nervously still. The young woman alone the least injured, one of the men already beginning to shake on his feet. Frost entirely assured he would be dead in the next hour. The stallion finding he held little care. Care was not exactly his strength. That sword slice he had taken to his right side aching and yet he continued to ignore it, attempting to act for all the world as if it did not exist.

You have two and….a half people left in your army your Majesty. Let us find a way out of these caves and be done here. You fought……alright.

Alright. Just alright. Frost shifting then to turn his back towards the man, cocking one hoof upward for the first time to allow Alexander to use it as a step and swing onto his back. Some respect it seemed- had been earned.

and Xerxes thought we’d get ourselves killed.

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




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