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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 no one
    1 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 no one

    Iórkæll Dværg

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    The VooDoo Room

    owned by no one
    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 no one

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    The Witchery

    owned by Rowena Metcalf
    0 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

ice, ice baby124.168.7.208Posted On August 31, 2015 at 2:39 PM by Rixon Leifsson

 photo 1638b989-d1ad-4590-8c4d-4d16fc4716cb_zps770e0cc5.jpg

He had perhaps underestimated the pretty young woman this night, the girl evidently neither helpless nor wholly uninformed when it came to horses, anyone with even the barest understanding of the equine surely knowing how inappropriate it is to allow any horse, let alone a stallion, to intrude upon personal space in such a manner. It is a dangerous thing, after all, to allow a stallion to believe itself superior to any human handler and perhaps the girl was right to react as she did, surely attempting to return the status quo to it’s rightful balance. What Frost had not anticipated however, was the riding crop the woman had concealed behind her, her lifted arm capturing his attention but a moment to late before it was brought down upon his neck with a resounding –smack-. It hardly hurt, his neck thick, powerful- the woman lacking the real strength to harm him with such a tool though the folded leather end results in quite the sudden noise that sees the white-hued stallion dance suddenly sideways from her, hooves scraping against the earth as he does, wheeling to face her once more though remaining at least a stride from her now as he snorts in both surprise and irritation. Had she just struck him?

For a moment his lip very near quirks upward in…humour at this delicate little girl whom evidently held more spine then he had anticipated, ears pricked forward still in evident curiosity though some part of him remains slightly….offput by her all the same. It had been…years since anyone had dared to strike him, human or otherwise, only Alexander so far having managed to get away with it and yet some part of the equine held the barest slither of respect for the thousand year old hunter and the force and power he held. A human girl hardly managed to stir the same sense within him, even despite her attempts at discipline (a discipline he surely truly deserved). The young woman however, was clearly of the belief that he was a real horse and as such had treated him like one, a belief he had surely encouraged if only because he could. Her stunt with the crop however, had only sought to…annoy him perhaps and as such he sees no real need not to annoy her in return- else terrify her entirely. He is…unique amongst even his own kind, one of the few creatures capable of speech even within his animal form, the young stallion gifted with a form of telepathy that allowed his thoughts and words to touch her own mind and as such he extends such powers now, speaking directly to that pretty little mind of hers as he does.

Well, that was impolite now wasn’t it?

Another snort follows in the wake of the words, the heavy, draft-built horse striding forward again now until he presses against her space once more, that long, white forelock parting at last to allow her a view of the stunning violet coloured eyes of the animal as he eyes the crop she still held with some measure of disdain.

If you hit me with that again I will hit you with one of my hooves and we will see who comes off better now won’t we?

Another chuckle of sorts vibrates within his chest, in as much as a horse can truly chuckle, tail lashing up at his flanks as he stands before her again, curious as to whether she would believe herself to be suffering a concussion from her head upon the ground or whether or not she would run screaming from the magical ‘talking’ horse.




Frostbite
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