Bath Camarilla The Roleplay Forum!

Cobbles glisten in the evening rain, leaf litter blocking the gutters and causing unshod feet to slip. Ragged men stagger home from the workhouses, brushed aside by the clicking wheels of the hansom cabs. Horses duck their heads, snorting plumes of wet, straw scented heat as the human traffic pushes past them and always, everywhere, above it and beyond it all, is the stink of the river Avon as its turgid flow seeps beneath the bridges. The river itself remains a dark, indifferent consciousness that allows anyone to stand by its weir and stare into the silent currents.