The western part of the city is often home to the poorer residents. Here there is a grunginess 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, and often let the powerful supernatural beings sort things out amongst themselves. Be careful wandering the Western streets after the sun falls.
Cull & Pistol
Just like any city - Sacrosanct is not without it's deep, dark underbelly. Hidden in the graffiti-ridden streets of the West, behind closed warehouse doors, lies the Black Market. Forever moving, it's nearly impossible to find without knowing someone who knows someone. Anything you desire can be brought for a hefty price within the Black Market - be it drugs, weapons, or lives.
Hidden within the dark alleyways of the Western Ward, Cull & Pistol is a dim, often smoky bar. With a small variety of bottled and craft beers, Cull & Pistol is a quaint little neighborhood joint. With its no-frills moto, the dingy bar offers little more than liquor, music from an old jukebox, and a few frequently occupied pool tables.
Bartender Raylin Chike
Resting upon the harbor, Noah's Ark (known simply as The Ark) is a sleek superyacht known both for its fight rings and recent...renovations, of sorts. 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.
Note: This is a Were only establishment. All other species will be swiftly escorted out.
Home of: Nightshade
Owner Aiden Tetradore
Within the turbulent industrial district lies this club. The warehouse doesn't look like much on the outside but it provides a memorable experience from the state of the art lighting, offbeat Victorian-inspired artwork, comfortable black leather lounges, and the infamous 'black light' room. There is a wide variety of alcohol that lines the shelves of both of the magical and ordinary variety. It is a common stomping ground for the supernatural who want to let loose and dance the night away to the music that floods the establishment. Humans are most welcome if they dare.
Owner Risque Voth
The kid curls into a half ball as the vampire's foot connects with his ribs and Bjørn feels empathy for him. While the hunter makes sure to keep his expression uninterested, he does send a silent promise to the hurt man that this vampire will pay for the pain it has inflicted. The vampire snarls and rushes toward Bjørn and the hunter smiles as he runs forward to greet it. Silver broadsword flashes through the air, aiming to strike at the vamp's face. A pale hand blurs upward and grabs the hunter's wrist, halting the downward arch of his sword. Out of the corner of his eye, Bjørn sees the injured man stand up and quickly double over. Silently, the hunter urges the kid on, to find somewhere safe to ride out this fight. Left hand still grips a wooden stake and he thrusts it at the vamp's chest.
It hisses, gripping his wrist and starting to apply bone crushing pressure. The smug blood sucker grins widely, showing off his sharp canines. With a sharp laugh, the bastard says, "Not as tough as you thought hunter? Maybe I..." His voice is cut off abruptly as Bjorn slams his forehead into the bridge of the vampire's nose. Bjørn sees stars and his mentor's voice speaks up from the back of his mind, reminding him, "No one wins in a headbutt. However, if train yourself enough, you can hit the sensitive spot on your opponent nose and recover fast enough to kill them." The vamp's hands slacken around the hunter's wrists and he shakes off the unwanted grip. Blinking rapidly, Bjørn's vision swims back into focus to find the vampire reeling backward dazed.
Remembering his promise, Bjørn steps forward and buries his sword through the bastard's chest. It screams in agony as the silver burns the wound and he allows the creature to stay that way for a second more. The stake slams home into the creature's heart and ends the scream forever. The body slumps over and Bjørn pulls his broadsword from the dead thing's chest. With a sound of disgust, he wipes the vampire's blood from the blade before sliding back into its scabbard. His sensitive ears pick up the sound of ragged breathing coming from nearby and Bjørn makes sure to pul the stake from the creature's chest before heading over. A glint of silver catches his eye, the yellow lights catching and reflecting off the slim blade the thief had hidden. Putting the wooden stake back into his jacket, the hunter moves over to knife at picks it up.
Hazel eyes land on a small black box that has been knocked away and the hunter straightens up to walk over to it. Leaning down, Bjørn lifts from the ground with ease and without breaking stride. The ragged breathing leads the hunter to a gap between two crates and the hunter steps towards it while being sure to keep a buffer zone between him and the wounded thief. He did have a knife so who knows what other weapons he carried. Gripping the knife by the tip of handle, Bjørn holds it up so the thief can see. Deep voice rumbles out as he says, "You forgot something kid. Never leave your weapons behind." With ease, Bjørn flips the knife over, effortlessly grabbing the point of the blade.
Hazel eyes search for the thief's amber gaze as Bjørn adds, "This is a good knife. The heft is perfect, not too heavy in the handle, and the blade is sharp. I don't know where you got it from, but be sure to show it some respect. Okay?" With that the hunter holds out the knife toward the thief, his fingers still lightly gripping the point so that the handle points toward the kid. When the kid takes it, Bjørn will quickly withdraw his fingers, not wanting to get any unnecessary cuts. With that the hunter looks to the injured man and says, "I also have your box. But I'm going to hold onto that until after you see a doctor. Just so you are.. less inclined to run."
Looking back at the dead vampire's, Bjørn says, "Speaking of running, I think it is time we got out of here. Come on, my car is close by." Stepping back, the hunter allows his eyes to scan the area quickly, making sure there are no unwanted prying eyes. Everything is clear... for now.