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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

but I've cried wolf a thousand times143.238.89.113Posted On March 02, 2018 at 10:46 PM by Rixon Leifsson

we built this city on broken glass

Raven, he had decided, was the very sort of annoying creature that raised their hand in class for every question. The sort of student that made the rest of the class groan when the teacher had finally begun to end that lesson and she surely had to raise her hand to ask just one more question and compel the rest of that poor class to remain behind to prolong that academic torture. He supposed, in some sense, he hardly resented the woman's curiosity or her desire for knowledge. Once, a long time ago, he had been much the same with an interest in the world outside the place he had been born and a desire to read as many of those books as he could in some effort to teach himself about life itself. Her exuberance for that knowledge however was….surprising. That normally introverted, quiet- often near meek woman suddenly becoming some sort or irritating fountain of questions. Frost, for all the curiosity he had once held in the world had remained largely silent about it. The stallion naturally exhibiting that control Raven seemed to forget in those moments that followed. Bizzare creature that she was. So much about her very personality continuing to baffle him and yet he hardly cared to give her too much further thought, his mind keep sharply away from her own in the same moment if only because he feared finding that pity for him within her thoughts agian. The equine unaware of the truth depth of the capability of feeling that existed within the woman before him. Emotions, after all, were hardly his forte. Frost falling silent in the wake of those initial questions, his fingers brushing over that plated surface as he eyed those near intricate carvings so many centuries old.

That query on spirit magic merely saw his features frown slightly somewhere beneath that mop of wild white hair. Magic was perhaps not the right word to attribute it too and yet those very beliefs were near intrinsically tied with his own culture, the old religion and those tales long forgotten. Subject matter that could not be explained in a matter of mere minutes to a being who held no understanding off them. Nor, truly, did the stallion care to share the very depth of his culture with a woman he hardly liked in any real sense. She would surely find something amusing about it all the same like the others had before her. Frost having cared to share those religious beliefs only once- and only to be informed they were archaic, forgotten by time, no longer believed and largely viewed as fairy stories to tell a child at night. True or otherwise he could hardly deny the gods on which he had been raised and yet, here and now, he saw little need to defend them all the same. The man instead choosing that simpler, more fitting explanation.

“There was a reason but I do not claim to know it. The amulets were gifted to the four original packs of my land but by who and why I hardly know. The stories differ. Spirits refers to the four gods I spoke off before. Where I come from Were’s are far more religious beings. Each pack follows a particular God. Though each God is interconnected to the others in their own way. To come from a pack that old like you do, like I do, means something to those who understand. To Were’s here it means nothing. Meaning is subjective. It would be...prestigious in my country.”

His shoulders lifted in a shrug of sorts, as if informing Raven off her very significance in other lands was hardly any true news at all. Once more that emotionless facade perfectly in place to afford little more than a flicker off expression upon his features. Frost pausing once more to allow the woman to consider those offered details before she asked what those other animals were. Frost sighing softly and yet, for now, his voice remained even as he offered those cool lyrics. The woman appearing almost genuinely interested, Frost affording her those answers she desired in some rare show of even temper.

“Midgard is a serpent, yes. Fenrir is a wolf, the wolf who was destined to kill Odin, Freya represents felines, she is shown on a chariot pulled by cats and Sleipnir is an eight-legged horse, the god of equines.”

That amulet was turned within his hands once more, his fingers brushing along those nordic words. That forgotten, ancient language all but lost from the world. What a shame it would be to lose something so ancient and yet perhaps he should hardly be surprised. The world destroyed anything and everything it touched, in the end. That language sure to go along with it. The stallion near snorting at those internal thoughts before offering that translation with that singular warning he would afford her one reading of it only. Raven’s fingers typing swiftly away at her phone as he offered those words. Hmm. One would think the woman was actually interested in that history and those stories. Frost assured that interest held some ulterior motive all the same. The stallion inclined to expect as much from most. Frost hardly considering that Raven, perhaps, might be the one true being whom purely desired to learn rather then exploit something from him. Frost hardly fool enough to allow it all the same. His mind drawn back to the present by those further questions.

“Fenrir’s treasure is a vault. What is in it I hardly know. There are no original members of the Pack left to ask. Time has forgotten it. Frankly I have no idea what you will find but that is not my problem. If you require further translations you can phone me, if I am in a good mood I will translate it. If I am not you can ring back later. I have seen them before, yes, awakened them no and used them no. I have not needed to until now and no- I will not tell you why.”

Any mention of his own business, it seemed, had a tendency to return the man to that less than pleasant demeanor. Those frigid, frosted walls thrown back up near instantly. Those words offered in that same blunt tone as that silence seemed to find them once more. Frost making no effort to speak any further as another cookie was plucked from that container. Frost savouring that first mouthful for several long moments before finally offering those words once more. His violet gaze meeting her own. His tone having shifted but slightly to something more agreeable now that such conversation was no longer fixated upon himself.

“When you have those ingredients, tell me, and I will help you activate it as promised. What you do after that is not my concern. Do you desire information on the others or is that all you want for today? I suspect Fenrir’s map will lead you overseas. Take your mate with you if you go. He is one of the ingredients after all…”

He could almost be helpful when he tried. Almost.



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