The Beautiful Ones

• TITANS LANDING, CAPITAL ELDORIA

The fair polis was dotted in sturdy townhouses and inns, the singularity of the city being its shared brick-red roofs, from up above looking like the scales of a dragon in sleep. The skies were clear as the snowing had begun to pack up. In a nearby commune of gypsies, a gathering on the outskirts of the former Capitol, few tendrils of spring shot up between the white tents lying under the evening sun. Children played with dogs around chomping winged horses.

This commune was one of the many scattered across the realm. Ever since their Queen was felled from the fae throne, the gypsies had been further put out by the other magical ilk. Demon hordes now ruled the undercity, and every few paces in the cobblestone alleys, one could spy a Mauler or Bonereaver, or Critch, yeilding dominance over the unlikely underdogs.

Since their Sires were now witches of the Court of Whispers, the [Hellions] felt charged to do what ever they wished.