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    The West

    The western part of the city is often home to the poorer residents. Here there is a certain grunge that permeates the town from the graffiti on the once cleaned brick buildings to the broken and unmaintained architecture. Crime runs high within the western half of town, making it the home of supernatural gangs of illicit activities. Such activities are rarely reported however, and most residents are distrustful of individual's of authorities, instead letting the powerful supernatural beings sort things out amongst themselves. Be careful wandering the Western streets after the sun falls.

    What's You'll Find Here

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    Noah's Ark

    owned by Aiden Tetradore
    1 employees

    Noah's Ark

    Resting upon the harbor, Noah's Ark appears to be little more than an abandoned cargo ship. Accessible from an entrance hidden in the shadows, The Ark is a veritable Were-playground that specializes in fighting tournaments for all creatures great and small. With both singles and doubles tournaments to compete in, the title of Ark Champion is hotly contested amongst the Were population. If anything illegal is going on in the city it's sure to be happening within the back rooms or behind the ring-side bar.

    Owner Aiden Tetradore

    Co-owner Tobias Cain

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    Warehouse District

    Warehouse District

    The warehouse district rests just upon the harbor within the city. Many of the warehouses belong to corporate companies although some are used for less the legal means. Be careful when wandering this district at night for many groups meet within those dark, dilapidated buildings. There are also whispers of hard to obtain goods being sold behind those closed doors but you have to know who's who to get an in!

do not waver, the dark approaches; open108.245.133.46Posted On December 13, 2016 at 4:49 PM by sorcha northwoods

I've forgotten how it felt before...

Months had passed but it seemed as if the world had changed on it's axis. For Sorcha it had. The day when her cell phone had rang from some unidentified number and the numbing sound of ringing in her ear had prefaced it all. It had been a mad rush of packing her stuff up, storing it away, of tears and screams and an incredible sort of grief that ate at one's very core. Her parents were dead. So she had packed up and flew home to Scotland, forgetting all about her life in Sacrosanct. The city had nothing on the power of the earth and the richness of her homeland had seemed to fuel her despite the way she broke down on the inside. Natural causes had not taken them as they had anticipated and while Sorcha had desperately wanted to see their faces one more time it had taken her too long ot arrive home. By then they had already been interred.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

It had taken considerable skill to maneuver through the political schemes of her parent's coven. They had tried every tactic short of an actual binding spell to convince Sorcha to stay, to fill in the gaping hole that her parents had left. Her touch on the earth and strength from vegetation had grown exponentially since her arrival back home. It was as if the floodgates had let open. All it had taken was a complete and earth shattering event to cause it.

But she settled the affairs of her parents, learning shocking secrets in the vast home that her parents had inherited over many lifetimes, and decided to leave them behind once more. Leaving Scotland had felt like pressing a knife in her own gut but it felt like living with one if she had stayed. There were never easy choices in life but she had always made choices. Always lived by them. Always known she had someone to call if ever she needed to question herself. Now she had no one.

It is a lonesome feeling to be stranded in a city with no where to go. Her studio apartment had been rented out long ago and her cat, Darwin, had been given to vague acquaintance with instructions that she would eventually return for him. She missed him most desperately but as she stood on the busy streets of Sacrosanct she felt a clenching in her gut, a need to see something familiar. So she had found herself wandering far from the lovely lights and sparkling shops an into the cruddy part of the city. Down by the docks and into the darkness.

Towards the Ark.

It had bolstered her sales once before and while she didn't need the money quite as much as the moment, considering the small nest egg her parents had left her, she needed to see a familiar face. Any face. Just to remind herself that she had lived before this and that nothing else had changed. But she pauses at the shadowed entrance of the Ark, her silky black hair hanging down to her waist, having grown long and just as unkempt as before, and her mossy green eyes look forward but don't really see.

the world fell at our feet


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