"The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents." -H.P. Lovecraft, Call of Cthulhu
Walk of the Devil
In the nights that are to come, there will always be darkness. In a world where old stone Gothic Archetiture meets twisted piece of metal. In a city that on the smoldering nights of summer could make anyone keep their windows and door open, there is that darkness. A flooding feeling of hell that is coming forth over while a few rays of hope express outwards like small light houses, calling for some to find shelter.
It is in this city that the Kindred play, as either the prince or the pauper. Where mortal lives are moved like chess pieces on a board and lives are tossed away. In slow time, the young move on to play with the old, thinking they can beat them at the game they have spent decades mastering.
Something stirs though beneath and around this city. New winds blow and part for something to come. It is soon to be, that this world will have more to it then there is known.
