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    The East

    The east side of the city is often considered the heart of Sacrosanct. It's here were the majority of the shopping district can be found, deep in the heart of downtown. It's here that magic thrives, it hums in every stone and can be felt in every breath. Often times, new comers to the city may be come overwhelmed by such sensations but, eventually, it becomes an ever present feeling that's hardly noticed. The streets of the east side are frequented by all species as many companies are housed in the sky scrapers and hole in the wall establishments that line the streets.

    What's You'll Find Here

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    The city has a unique skyline, clashing between modern sky rises and small victorian storefronts. In the heart of downtown, the sleek colored glass buildings reign supreme though their old-world roots can be seen in the most peculiar places from the lamp post styled electric street light to the stone sidewalks. The old world architecture slowly returns the further from downtown you travel, however.

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    Inner Sanctum

    owned by Alexander Macedonia
    3 employees

    Inner Sanctum

    This hidden little cafe is loaded with essentricities and antiques that fill every corner of this remarkable place. The walls are lined with oddities from every corner of the world. Beyond the intriging decor, this place is known for it's delectable coffees and it's exquisite latte art.

    Owner Alexander Macedonia

    Barista Alexis Wilde
    Assistant Manager Calliel Alosi
    Barista Beylani Rose

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    Red on the Water

    owned by Isolt Griffin
    2 employees

    Red on the Water

    Nestled in a pleasant alcove that is but a stone?s throw away from the dazzling labyrinth of downtown, Red on the Water is a spectacle in its own right. Renovated in the style of a classic Irish pub with a dash of modern flare befitting the city that boasts it, this up-and-coming venue is the perfect place to snag an impeccably prepared home-cooked meal and enjoy the city?s most impressive collection of brews from Ireland and beyond. You and your guests are sure to be mesmerized and invigorated by the energetic offerings of the live Celtic band to be found here every weekend.

    Owner Isolt Griffin

    Co-Owner Damon Marcello
    Waitress Yumi Chizue

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    The Bakery

    owned by Taliah Vieira
    2 employees

    The Bakery

    The Bakery is a small bakery that serves anything that your heart desires, from sweet to savory this little place has it all. The area overall is small and cozy, a seating area that lines the windows and several bakery cases that provide freshly baked goods every day. The Bakery also takes special orders and delivers to local cafes.

    Owner Taliah Vieira

    Baker Sterling Tenembrage
    Baker Ludovino Donati

what about if we win tonight? Do i get a city then? On December 11, 2017 at 1:11 PM by Rixon Leifsson

we built this city on broken glass

There was something altogether pleasing in those moments in which he observed that Dark Hunter coating himself in the scents of the earth and mud and leaves that littered that forest floor. It was amusing, in some sense, to see a man whom was often so fastidious with his appearance roll about upon the floor like a common fool and yet, more so, a part of the stallion had not missed that simple fact that Alexander had not asked of him anything the man had been unwilling to do himself. How rare that was in a rider these days. How rare it was in a man. Frost allowing such considerations to turn from his thoughts at that argument over soap and his own refusal to ruin his own shower with the bracken and leaves and mud that caked his own fur. That comment that Alexander maintained good soap seeing one eye lift somewhere beneath that forelock of thick mane that had become sodden and plastered to his forehead in that downpour. Was not soap just soap? How could anyone soap be superior to another? Alexander content to query him further upon it as he lifted his foreleg in that wilful obedience to provide the Macedonian with a step up and onto his back. Frost offering that snort now as his tail flicked at his wet flanks.

Regular soap. I hardly have soap classified as good or bad. Soap is soap

That touch of heels to his side saw the muddied stallion step forward and towards the embrace of that forest then, that distinctly equine part of himself turning with unease at the sight of those narrowed trails and pressing trees that seemed to swath the path in a further darkness- one hardly made more appealing by those flashes overhead. That trail was briefly illuminated in that lightning flash, shadows cast wildly in all directions that stung at his visions, sending flickering patterns across his view before that booming thunder seemed to shake the very ground he stood on, the sound echoing in his ears. Those equine senses- so sensitive to even the smallest sound or flicker of movement- were all but overwhelmed in that moment. Frosts feet shifted in a clear discomfort and yet that sheer stubbornness within the equine so readily saw that human part of him attempt wrestle with his equine self and push aside those animalistic fears that came so instinctively. The sudden touch of that hand against his neck saw the stallion….still. If only for a few moments. He had almost forgotten Alexander entirely. Some part of that touch entirely welcomed even if he hardly dared admit it. Those near warring thoughts seeming to dissipate, those softly uttered Greek words he hardly understood prompting that turn of his ears backwards if only to hear them better. Why those words eternally seemed to calm him he hardly knew, nor hardly cared to question. Their simply utterance seeming to provide a clarity of thought. That touch of Alexanders heels once more prompting the stallion more willingly forward then and into the depths of that forest. It was almost nice, for once in his dammed life, not to be alone.

It was that single realisation, perhaps, that prompted those offered words. That announcement of his true name a far more significant offering then the stallion cared to admit too, one he had never before even come close to offering any other rider and yet, in a style that had become near typical for the pair, Alexander so hardly made any true fuss over it in turn. The Hunter merely repeating that name in near flawless tones before offering his own. Frost not uninclined to admit that such an ancient moniker suited the man somehow more than that modern styling. Both men falling silent in the wake of that unanticipated bonding that had, somehow, solidified that relationship all the more. It was that request to find those deer that saw the pale stallion shift into a faster pace. The stallion entirely attentive to those touches of Alexander’s heel, especially upon that right side where his own vision lacked so decidedly. Those weeks and months of training, of exercises Frost had once argued were pointless, suddenly seeming to have meaning if only for how much more swiftly he understood those touches and their use. The world was……easier to navigate when Alexander rode with him. Even if it had taken him near a year to admit it.

That rain seemed to find them even beneath those sheltered trees, soaking further into his coat and staining it dark. Frost’s pace quickened all the more to keep those deer moving before yet another boom from above seemed to shake that earth beneath him. Those sounds almost painful to his ears as they flattened backwards in some attempts to protect those delicate mechanisms inside, the world around them illuminating again and casting shapes in every direction. Frost determinedly keeping his gaze ahead, refusing to acknowledge those flickering shapes like a common horse might have done and found fear in. That sound far more bothersome. That thought echoed to Alexander in turn as those thoughts from the Hunter pressed back to his mind. Those pleasant Greek words uttered again before the Hunter assured him he intended to make it louder still. If only for a bit. That softer side to Alexander, one so very, very rarely seen perhaps prompting even the faintest shift in the stallion himself as if, somehow, he might be allowed to feel some sincerity. An emotion he hardly dared to allow himself on most occasions.

I…..trust you.

He hardly afforded the Hunter any true time to consider it, Frost swinging into the swiftest canter he could manage in that confined space before that sudden screeching –crack- from behind him saw his ears layer backward once more, his pace increased for several more strides in a momentary panic some tree was about to fall upon them. That sudden command for steady seeing the return of that more even pace. Alexander was doing it? What was he doing? Frost incapable of turning to see lest he trip and fall on that uneven ground. Did Alexander possess some power over nature itself? That clearing seemed suddenly closer, Frost dismissing those idle queries of Alexanders power, those deer streaking ahead in fear of that collapsing forest, even Frost aware they were no longer going to pause on that tree line as he had feared they might. Those forest creatures abruptly crashing through the undergrowth and out onto that field with himself and Alexander in tow.

That field was almost blindingly bright beneath that lightning, that rain slamming into them with full force as Frost lunged onto that open space, that stallion taking barely a moment to shift his lead leg, correcting that pace instantly, quite as he was trained to do, to something far better suited for charging. The war horse hurriedly attempting to survey that battlefield as the first of those shouts echoed through that storm, that small party of Hunters and horses camped to their left, the sight of Alexander atop that white stallion having suddenly become apparent as they made every effort to scramble to their feet. Alexander had planned to take out Darius first. Frost’s hooves digging into that soft ground firmly then as that canter became a gallop, the stallion charging straight for that tree Darius and the others remained tied too in some effort to give Alexander a chance to take out that black stallion- else injure him enough to render him useless. That element of surprise having resulted in near mass panic amongest the Immortals camp. Those other horses jerking backwards in some frantic effort to break their bridles and get away from that oncoming impact. One little liver chestnut mare managing just that, the leather snapping mere seconds before Frost reached her, the mare squealing wildly as she scrambled backwards and broke off across that field.

Something solid passed so close to his own head he near felt it brush his ears- that crossbow bolt colliding with a tree and exploding the wood on either side. Frost unable to see who was shooting at them from the right. The stallion seemingly unconcerned. Darius finally in range, Frost shifting just enough to give Alexander every opportunity to swing at him as he passed. Only for the black stallion to teleport in that last second. Darius disappearing into nothing but air leaving only one rearing bay stallion frantically trying to get out of the way. Frost racing past him only to wheel and face that battlefield again. The stallion hardly fool enough to stop moving.

Shit. Did you get him at all?

Where Darius had gone he hardly knew. Xerxes nowhere to be seen in turn. Only one Immortal left in that campsite, his horse undoubtedly the bay still left tied to its post. Xerxes and Darius, the unseen Scout and the Hunter whom had chased after that little mare all still somewhere on that field in chaos. Frost entirely attuned to Alexanders next command then, waiting for that order. That one grounded Hunter tossing that crossbow aside in favour of that long sharpened pike then, the man shouting in some language Frost hardly understood as he charged forward with the clear intent of putting it through Frost’s left shoulder or Alexander’s left leg while keeping himself out of range.