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[b][i]Crown Ridge, ME
Lost Haven’s Ugly Little Sister[/i][/b]

Located just over 10 miles from Lost Haven, Crown Ridge, Maine was once a nice city. The people who resided within the city were people with big dreams who worked hard to accomplish those dreams. However, after a generation of political corruption and economic decline, Crown Ridge had fallen on hard times. Over the years, the once prosperous city saw its best and brightest leave and resettle in its sister city, Lost Haven. And as they left, so did many of the jobs which had kept the city afloat. 

Then the criminals moved in. They came in waves, each wave more organized and ruthless than the last. Eventually, Crown Ridge was entirely overrun with crime, and unlike Lost Haven, the people of the city id not have heroes in capes and masks fighting for them. Though the police did what they could to stem the tide of crime in the city, they were outmanned and in many cases, outgunned. 
	
However, over the course of the last several months, rumors have begun circulating amongst the criminal underworld; as well as the police, of a new player in town. This individual in a black, cat-like outfit had been seen all over the city, taking down thugs and criminals, and then disappearing into the night. The few who got a good look at the vigilante reported a remarkable resemblance to Lyger, the cat-like hero of Lost Haven, who had had several high profile outings, most notable were his roles in both the Pax Metahumana crisis as well as the defeat of the demon, Nightmare. However, due to the fact that he had established himself in Lost Haven, skepticism that it was Lyger was high.

The rumors of a new vigilante in town did not bother Danny O’Shea or his partner, Charles “Charlie” McGrath. The two men had been career criminals, starting out when they were both 16 as runners for the Winter Park Gang, one of the most notorious Irish Mafia cartels in Crown Ridge. After proving themselves, Charlie and Danny moved on to shakedowns of local businesses for “protection money,” and then they moved into enforcement. The two thugs were feared among the locals who lived under the Winter Park Gang’s rule, and had been suspected of carrying out a number of executions for the criminal enterprise; however, no one had ever been able to prove their involvement. 
While they were ruthless and efficient at what they did, they were a small time gang who were happy with the profits that they were making. However, over the last few years, that had changed. They were no longer happy roughing up local business owners and selling drugs and weapons to the local underworld. They had stepped up their game, getting involved in games with much larger stakes, and they saw much larger profits because of it. Rumors began to circulate within the Winter Park Gang about what it was, exactly, that had been going on. The word was, that the gang had been absorbed by a larger, wholly more terrifying criminal entity, and was now a part of something much bigger than anyone within the gang had ever imagined. Mick Sheeran, the head of the Winter Park Gang never talked about who was really running things now, however, the truth came out eventually, when Mick’s son Jack let it slip during a meeting of the top bosses, a meeting that Charlie and Danny were at, serving as glorified security guards. Neither man could believe what they were hearing as their bosses discussed the new business arrangement, some of whom were less than please with the new status quo. Even though the bosses spoke in hushed tones, seemingly afraid that their new employers would hear them speaking, as if their new employers were right in the room with them…as if they were everywhere, Danny heard Mick mention something about “The Shroud.”  Although they didn’t know what The Shroud was at the time, they would come to know exactly what being a part of The Shroud Syndicate, whether directly, or by being an affiliate, such as they were. They knew that the organization, nor its boss suffered fools or failures, and  as a result, they have been much more efficient as an organization. 

Most of the time.

“Hey Charlie! Charlie! Are you gonna get off your ass and help me with these crates, or are you gonna sit there feedin' yer face all night long?" Danny said to his partner from behind the heavy crate that he is trying to load into the van. 
 
"Hold yer horses, will ya? I'll be dere in a minute." Charlie replied as he shoved almost the entire half of his sausage grinder down his gullet. 
 	
Danny shrugged and continued trying to maneuver the crates. Danny felt a strange uneasiness as of late. Everything that they did seemed to have purpose, there was an urgency with everything within the Winter Park Gang. When Danny expressed his concerns to Charlie, the larger man told him not to worry about it, that things were fine. But Danny just couldn’t seem to put his fears at ease. He was told, in no uncertain terms that this operation is big, that whatever it is that is in those crates are very important, and should he and Charlie somehow screw this simple job up, there would be “severe consequences.”
 
Danny shuttered at the thought of what those "severe consequences" might be. 
 
"Come on Charlie, get off your fat ass and help me with this stuff!" 
 
But there is no response. 
 
"Charlie!"
 
Still nothing.
 
"Charlie?!"
 
Panic suddenly overwhelmed Danny. Charlie always said something, even if it was just to tell him to get lost. There was a time when nobody would mess with Ol' Charlie, he was a big man who could do more than just hold his own in a fight. Danny had seen him take down three guys with lead pipes with nothing but his bare fists. But Charlie had lost something over the years, his love of pizza and grinders had slowed him down, much of the muscle the he was once so proud of replaced by an ever expanding haunch of flab. But still, Charlie was no slouch. Something was definitely wrong.
 
"Charlie, you alright pal?"
 
Then Danny saw it, Charlie laid out around the driver's side of the van. Not moving, out like a light. He spun around quickly, hoping to avoid whoever, or for that matter, whatever it was that took down Ol' Charlie. But before he could take a single step he saw it. It was the size of a man, covered from head to toe in black. As Danny watched whatever it was moving through the shadows like some kind of ghost, he noticed that it didn’t appear human, the small, pointy, cat-like ears on the top of its head testified to that.

“Shit.” Danny said as he pulled out his revolver and began firing in the direction that he had last seen the cat-man.

“Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!” He said as he fired off rounds into the darkness

“Shit…” He said again as the gun just clicked as it ran out of ammunition to fire.

[i]click…click…click…[/i] 

Danny stopped pulling the trigger. He stood there for a moment as he looked around the scene; the only sound that could be heard was the pounding of his own heart. Otherwise, everything along the docks was perfectly still. Then, almost out of nowhere, Danny felt a chill run up and down his spine as he realized that there was someone standing behind him. Reluctantly, Danny slowly turned to face whoever it was behind him. When he did, he saw the form of a dark, cat-like being standing there, facing him. 

“Boo.” It said, its voice was not natural, almost as if there was some sort of electronic device was distorting it. 

Danny stepped back as if he were about to run, however, a hard roundhouse right connected with his chin, and upon impact, his entire world went black.

Several minutes later the Crown Ridge Police arrived on the scene, responding to an anonymous tip, that there was some sort of disturbance at Warehouse 32 in the commercial sector at this very moment. From a nearby rooftop, Lyger watched as the police loaded the two henchmen into squad cars, while other officers secured the three dozen crates that they had been moving. Lyger did not know what was in the shipment of crates, and he really didn’t care. All he knew was that it was important to The Shroud Syndicate, and was satisfied that whatever it was, The Cowl and his organization would not be getting their hands on it.

[center]***[/center]
[b][i]Three Months Ago [/i][/b]

Kyle pulled his mask off as he sad down on the steep folding chair that was set up next to the computer array that Harry sat in front of as he poured over a seemingly endless stream of data. Kyle was tired and worn, having not taken a moments’ rest on the heels of his victories during the Pax Metahumana ordeal, or over the supernatural serial killer Nightmare. 

He couldn’t allow himself to rest.

After returning to The Garage after his part in the defeat of Nightmare and his cult, Harry had to break more terrible news. Adeline Strayer, his ex girlfriend who was also a superhero in her own right, was found dead just a few blocks from the Lost Haven University Campus. Her mutilated body was nearly unrecognizable, having been practically torn apart by someone, or something. Since that night, he had been going out in search of the culprit, only to find nothing. 

Kyle sat back against the folding chair’s back rest and let out a sigh. He was visibly frustrated with his lack of leads, and was almost to the point of accepting Harry’s theory that perhaps Addy had simply run afoul of Nightmare and his cult. It did make sense, as Adeline did specialize in the supernatural, yet, at the same time, there was something different about the way she had been killed. While Nightmare’s victims had suffered massive trauma, there was something more vicious, more…feral about the attack that had taken Addy’s life. 

“I have something for you.” Harry said without looking away from the computer screen. “I had some of my contacts look into the men who were buying up the local businesses after the riots. They found something.” Harry finished, his voice wavered slightly. 

“What is it?” Kyle asked.

“Nothing good. The company is a fake, which we suspected all along. But it’s tied to some very, very, bad people.” 

“Harry…” Kyle began. Whatever Harry had was the first solid lead into finding the men responsible for Ronnie’s murder.

“Kyle, they belong to a vast criminal organization that has its hand in just about everything. They are called the Shroud Syndicate, and to a lot of people, they don’t exist.” Harry began. “They are a bit of a myth, the Boogie Man of the criminal underworld, so to speak.”

“How do we stop them?” Kyle asked, a mask of determination on his face.

“I don’t know, as I said, they are everywhere. But if you wanted to take them down, a good place to start would be the head.”
“And how would I do that?” 

“That’s the million dollar question. Nobody knows who he is. He’s never seen out in public, in fact, there are those in the intelligence community that don’t think he’s real. But I was able to get a name, of sorts.” Harry told him.

“He goes by 'The Cowl.'”