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.

Feral by Nature


Posted on December 21, 2016 by Malia Tate
North


If there's one thing I'm not fond of, it's liars. I've never been anything if not honest my whole life so to lie to me is the worst crime imaginable. Luckily for me, I live with coyotes who can't think in more than single word answers, let alone make up whole stories. Now I've seen my fair of white lies, like when a hunter comes back and tells the pack a huge bear attacked him and his pack mates and he barely survived, only to find out they heard something moving in the woods and darted off without investigating. I'd usually laugh at stuff like that. I don't think I've ever really been lied to, at least not in my short term of being around non-coyote things that can talk.

I can't think of a lie the wolf or the panther would have told me anyway. I believe that I'm a Were and I believe that I can shift if I figure out how.

The perception of helping is lost on me from my experience in this world however. A pack doesn't help unless it's family or they want something in return. I got injured once during a hunt and Ceasar brought me food to survive but I know he only did it because he has hopes that some day I'll change my mind and bear him a litter, giving my children the strength he knows I possess. He wants me as a mate, otherwise I would have been left to die, nothing more than a burden to the pack, something to hold them back. They know I'm the one who made them thrive so without me, they're nothing more than starving coyotes.

The offer from the wolf and the panther to help me learn was something unknown to me. It only made me suspicious. What's in it for them? What would they want in return? However the horse thing's request that if he teaches me, I'll owe him a favor. This isn't lost on me. I don't have to like it but otherwise, it's something I can understand. He'll want something from me eventually when the opportunity presents itself and in the meantime, he wants me to submit to him, to join his pack. Now he just has to prove he's worth my respect.

He tells me that he was born a Were and he was taught how at an early age. Envy burns me up inside since I never got that chance. I don't even know if I was born this way or if I somehow shifted and then forgot to shift back. What if I was bitten and forced to change into a coyote and then got stuck? Would my maker be out there somewhere? How old would I have been when bitten if so? My curiosity truly knows no bounds. My brows furrow. "How would someone know if they were born or bitten? Would I have a bite mark or scar or something?"

I'm glad when the subject changes to something far more physical in nature. Fighting, something I've always enjoyed. I excel at it since I seem to be so much more strong than my own species. Well, the coyote species, anyway. I can bat at an insect and send it flying into a tree feet way, pulverized beyond recognition. I can bite a man's arm and break it in three places without even jerking my head. To think of this horse/human thing beating me is laughable.

I launch myself at his leg and my teeth pierce his flesh. I'm holding back my punches since I don't want him crippled or he's no use to me but the minute he shifts back to the horse, I know I'm going to have to do better than this. His leg is suddenly harder to move, the thick feathering of his fur filling my mouth, almost choking me. Of course, it's not too far off from the elk and moose I've helped the pack hunt down because they have thick fur but I'd say his legs are more stocky than that.

I look up when I feel the warm breath on my back, only to see his muzzle coming in for my scruff. Growling in protest, I release his leg and dance away, bringing my paw up to slap it at the side of his jaw, hard enough to feel like a grown man's punch if it connects. He might even see stars. I circle around before launching myself at a tree, using the side of its heavy trunk to bolster my momentum and send me flying toward his back, which I couldn't have reached otherwise. If I land, I'll try to sink my teeth into the crest of his neck, piercing deep enough to draw blood and puncture some muscle, enough to give him soreness until it heals. If he moves and I miss his back, I'll yelp as I hit the ground, rolling before I regain my paws and then hurridly reposition myself in case he tries to stomp me into the ground. I've dealt with big hooved beasts before so I know the main thing is to always keep moving and stay away from the back end unless you want a good kick.
I hear his taunting but I ignore it, wanting to show him with my actions rather than words that I'm nowhere near ready to surrender. At least not until I've shown him just how much of an asset I can be.

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