North

Within the Northern vicinity of the city, the wealthy gather behind meticulously trimmed hedges and high-class architecture. The pristine streets are paved with stone and the storefronts are brightly lit and inviting - for the right clientele. In the North, every establishment is eager 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 - whether it happens to be illegal or merely involves 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 allows them the luxuries that the North provides.

What You'll Find Here

Eternity
The VooDoo Room
The Witchery

Eternity

The newly opened Eternity is an expensive fine dining restaurant nestled high upon the hills of the North - providing it a breathtaking view of the city below. The award-winning chefs at Eternity collaborate directly with local farmers and producers to source the freshest ingredients for its ever-changing menu. The staff at Eternity pride themselves on serving each customer's unique dietary needs - from the vampiric to the mortal races. Reservations are strongly encouraged as Eternity is frequently booked to capacity.

The VooDoo Room

Located in the heart of the North, the Voodoo Room is the spirits lover's destination of choice in Sacrosanct. The Voodoo room is a craft cocktail bar that aims to provide an eclectic and exotic atmosphere. Nestled among the William Morris wallpaper, gold, and wood, you will find a new kind of neighborhood cocktail bar. One where hospitality and skill work in concert. With intoxicating liquors and a voodoo vibe, the Voodoo room will keep you coming back for more. Guided by the mantra of providing a one of a kind, high-end experience, the Voodoo Room's mixologists meet the highest standards with a fantastically themed selection of cocktails and specials.

The Witchery

Dark, Gothic, and thoroughly theatrical, the Witchery is a place to indulge yourself with it's lavish, theatrical suites. Whatever room you choose, you'll find glamor, indulgence, and luxury. From the Vestry to the Library and the Armory, the suites of the Witchery are nothing short of sensually romantic. A stay at the Witchery is not complete without dining in the rich baroque surroundings of the original oak-paneled hotel or among the elegant candle-lit charms of the Secret Garden. Whether you stay or dine, The Witchery is an unforgettably magical experience.

well Sasha, if we don't die, we can go home


Posted on August 22, 2016 by Rixon Leifsson
North
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There is some part of him, loath though he is to admit it, that finds some solace in the words the Hunter so offers him within the touch of his native tongue. It is hardly a language Frost speaks, indeed the stallion has little knowledge of what the Hunter had said at all and yet there is something distinctly.....soothing about them all the same, the hand that finds his neck perhaps equally so. The man within him abhorring this weakness within himself and yet that part of him decidedly equine was almost content to...settle beneath that combination of touch and words. The stallion finding himself inclined to press onward despite the howling wind, allowing his own affinity to embrace the rider in an entirely uncharacteristic display of kindness. For all his perceived inadequacy, at least in terms of temperament, the creature- both man and equine, was perhaps not near so heartless as most would make him out to be. He is simply not inclined to afford any display of care, in any fashion, until he has been given a reason to do so. Trust within his fellow man perhaps a decidedly lacking quality. The stallion makes no move to dispel the silence they fall back within, ears rotated backward in some display of his inclination to listen to the man upon his back in the moments that followed, allowing the Hunter to guide him over that frozen wasteland and through that freezing, biting wind that had been the death of so many before them.

It is with no small amount of relief that the horse finds himself sheltered at last by the mountain that rises before them, the sweat upon his sides already dried and frozen, chilling at his skin were it not for his own affinity still working to chase away those fingers of cold the wind so seemed determined to lash upon them. Yet even despite the howling of the very air itself the sound of another being hardly escapes the stallions notice, head and ears lifted upward suddenly, violet gaze straining against the dark as his nostrils flare. The Were just as any horse in this regard, entirely capable of hearing, if not smelling the presence of others well before any human. His head jerks almost suddenly towards the shadow that detaches itself from the darkness, head tossed momentarily upward- assured Alexander had seen the impending threat by now- that stallion remaining within place for perhaps the first time. He is, evidently, content to display some level of training when he should so choose or indeed it is given to count. The vampire suddenly barrelling towards him merely sees the stallion eye the creature with some disdain, the horse preparing to shift his position in an effort to avoid further axe throws until the command to 'be still' seems to find him. A soft snort is huffed into the air and yet the stallion stills himself all the same, allowing Alexander alone to react, the sudden appearance of a spear almost unnoticed by the animal- the weapon held upon his blind side until the Hunter suddenly launches it. A huff of surprise released before he stills once more, gaze following the spear as it collides with the vampire, sending its body sprawling into the show.

Nice aim.

His ears prick forward once more, the stallion striding forward now and towards the crumpled body, heavy, feathered hooves carving a trail through the ice and snow before he pauses above the body, head lowered momentarily as if to inspect it before abruptly stepping over it- assured the vampire was entirely dead. This however, was unlikely to be the only one, the stallion continuing on- gaze fixated upon the dark and looming space within the side of the mountain- the very entrance the vampire must well have been guarding.

I have heard of Denisova Cave, but I have never seen it before until now. This I assume, will take us to where we want to go.

Not that he desired to. The mouth surely large enough to admit them both and yet the simple notion of the enclosed space of a cave sat poorly within him. It is perhaps the man's single most potent weakness, one guarded more jealously then even his blinded eye. He fears narrow spaces, heavy frame already shifting with discomfort at the idea, the man reluctant to go forward even despite the touch of Alexanders heels at his sides. Sweat has already begun to form behind his ears and against his neck, staining the white fur a darker grey- the animal's unease surely palpable. It takes several moments still before the horse at last presses forward and towards the entrance, one hoof pressing upon the stone within before Frost halts again. It is a nervousness he cannot explain, a fluttering within himself that grinds on his nervous and sees his heart rate increase. He loathes this feeling, hates to display such a weakness and yet he fears the space- just as any horse surely world. Yet even that human part of himself is reluctant to face it. It is still several more moments, the horse shifting about uneasily, before he at last presses forward and into the cave.

It is dark, dank and thoroughly icy within, his breath rising like smoke with every stride- the stallion distinctly nervous, his steps almost hurried with a desire to simply find the way out. It is, however, a particular scent that so seems to distract his attention as he snorts- the sound echoing within the empty space.

It smells of cat.

Whether or not the stench was strong enough to become apparent to his rider he hardly knew, Frost merely pressing forward. The cave providing a break from the wind if nothing else and yet still it hardly failed to fill the horse with any true confidence as he pressed deeper and deeper within. How long did this blasted cave intend to last?! His hooves crunch upon the ice, following what little of the path he can see, ears rotating atop his skull in search of even the slightest hint of any further vampires before a distinct light up ahead becomes visible, the stallion rounding the corner, finding himself upon a ledge of sorts that looked down into a terrifically wide cavern. Hooves paused atop the edge.

I think we were lied too. Either that, or Xerxes belief of what a small coven is vastly differs from my own. They sent us here to die.

The area below was near swarming with vampires, the coven having made its home within the very depths of the cave, several fires lit, a number of smaller caves breaking away from the main area leading to goodness knows where. A veritable vampire city.

What, might I ask, is your plan? There are humans here, somewhere, I can smell them. Though whether they are worth rescuing I remain undecided.

The words are offered straight to the man's mind, Frost shifting slightly back from the edge and into the shadows lest any vampire look upward to see the horse poised upon the edge, a winding path to the side clearly visible and yet Frost holds little desire to take it.



Frostbite
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