I stand in the middle of the busy street, people pushing past me, around me. After a while I stop fighting the tide and allow myself to be swept along. I am, after all, only one small person in this big city. At least I can't be traced here; there are too many overtone of magick. My power would only be something that would be over washed one of the reasons why I chose to come here. My family has always wielded some form of power, but at the moment I stand untested so I do not know exactly how powerful I am.

After a while of walking with the flow, it begins to thin out when I get to the neighborhood of my new apartment building. On the surface this neighborhood is nothing but derelicts, petty thieves, murderers, and drug dealers. But under the surface, in the heart of this city within a city lies the only remaining underground community of Magick users. Dark and light, alive and undead, this is where the people come to get away from the Great King's tyranny.

Ever since his father died, we have lived in fear of him sending Guards into where we're living and taking everything that we owned, that we worked for. He thinks that we will try and over throw him, plunge the land into another Dark Age, a land ruled by anarchy. At least his father was going to make a treaty with us. But that fell through once King Frederick took the throne. And now he hunts us, but one day, we will hunt him.