Tucked away between buildings and streets that seem to lead to nowhere, veiled beneath a sky coated in smog and soot, the city of Halcyon is a place that only exists in whispers and tales.
It was built that way.
Long before the first breath of humanity, Halcyon rose from the darkness, the ancient bloodlines of Halcyon struck a deal with dark powers that twisted the fabric of supernatural existence. The world had outgrown the fear of the dark, and the creatures that lived there — the Fae, the sanguine curse and the lycans, the things that should never have walk among men — would soon find themselves exposed, hunted, and nearly brought to extinction
To survive, they made a pact — not just to hide, but to erase their very existence from the world’s memory.
To be forgotten.With a spell of unfathomable power, the Fae wove the Glamour — a force so intricate, so absolute, that Halcyon itself was now hidden from the world. A city wrapped in shadows, suspended in time, its very geography defying reason. Maps crumble to dust. Memories distort and vanish. Those who wander too close to the city’s boundaries find themselves lost in endless roads that lead to nowhere. Few leave. Fewer arrive.
Inside the Glamour’s fold, Halcyon thrives, a twisted sanctuary where the monsters rule unseen and unchallenged. But their kingdom, built on blood and power, is not as perfect as it once was.
Beneath the surface of ancient stone and overgrown thorns, something is beginning to crack. The fragile peace that holds the supernatural powers together is weakening, the threads of their bond unraveling one by one.The underbelly stirring awake with chaotic energy.
The laws that once kept the darkness in check are beginning to bend, to break. The creatures that walked in shadow now hunger for more than just survival. And in the depths of the city, in the forgotten corners of Halcyon, something ancient stirs — a force that was never meant to be freed.
As the Glamour starts to falter, so too does the city’s facade. The creatures who once existed in the safety of Halcyon’s false reality now see the cracks forming, the whispers of rebellion spreading like wildfire. Betrayals fester in the shadows, and blood flows once again.There are those wanting to break free from the cracks while others are working hard to restore Halcyon to what it once was.
In Halcyon, no one is safe…
Vampires - The Sanguine Curse - The Gilded Tyrants

The Vampires of Halcyon are a breed born of blood and power, their lineage stretching back centuries — ancient, rich, and unfathomably manipulative. They are the natural-born leaders, the kings and queens of the shadows, their dominion built on the backs of those who are forgotten by the world. These vampires are no mere creatures of the night; they are the architects of empires, weaving webs of influence through politics, money, media, and vice. Cloaked in the finest silks, surrounded by neon lights and glass towers, they command the skyline, their every whim catered to by those they enslave.
They are the Gilded Tyrants, rulers of Halcyon’s underworld, where wealth and decadence flow as freely as blood. Their existence is one of excess, indulgence, and control, sustained by a curse they neither welcome nor escape: the Sanguine Curse. They must feed to survive, but over the centuries, they have learned to bend this curse to their will. While some remain tied to the primal craving for human blood, relishing its warmth and vitality, others turn to synthetic substitutes — a more refined, less perilous alternative.
Yet even in their synthetic indulgence, many of the Vampires believe that true power lies in the taste of fear. The pulse of their prey, the trembling of a dying human, the rush of blood heightened by terror — to them, it is not just sustenance; it is control, a reminder that they hold dominion over those who are weak. Some of them even claim that fear makes the blood taste sweeter, more intoxicating.
Despite their centuries-long reign, the Vampires are not invincible. The Glamour, woven by the Fae, is what keeps their world hidden and protected. Without it, they are no more than monsters in the light, and the very city they claim as their kingdom would turn on them. But even as their empire crumbles beneath the weight of their own excess, they remain ever ambitious, ever ruthless, convinced that their bloodlines — their legacy — make them superior to all others. The cost of maintaining their façade is steep.
In Halcyon, they believe themselves gods in silk, rulers in shadow — but they are still bound by the very curse that made them what they are.
The Lycan — The Iron Claws

In the shadowed veins of Halcyon, where the city’s pulse runs dark and desperate — in the docks, the dive bars, the scrapyards — the Lycan thrive. They are not the refined rulers of the skyline, nor the hidden aristocrats of the night. They are the muscle, the brokers of violence, the raw power that keeps the city’s darkest corners alive. They are the loyalists and the outlaws, the Wardens and the enforcers, the ones who survive through grit, blood, and ferocity.
Organized into tight, brutal packs, the lycans are the backbone of Halcyon’s underworld. They are indispensable, for they control the black markets where weapons, flesh, and secrets are traded in equal measure. They are the ones who enforce the unspoken laws that govern the city’s hidden realm, settling disputes in blood and bone. Their word is law in the grimy back alleys and underworld dens, where only the strong thrive and the weak perish.
The Lycans may never have the luxury of money, but they have something far more valuable — their power, rooted in physicality, loyalty, and an unbreakable bond to the land they roam. They are the "boots on the ground" that hold Halcyon’s fragile peace together. Without them, the delicate balance of the city would unravel, and chaos would reign.
While the Vampires may own the city — commanding its wealth, politics, and status — it is the Lycans who run it. They are the enforcers, the protectors, and the heart of Halcyon’s streets. And though they may walk in shadows, their grip on the city is anything but invisible.
The Lycans’ claws are buried deep in Halcyon’s flesh..
The Fae — The Architects, The Hidden Crown

Ancient. Beautiful. Terrifying.
The Fae are the unseen forces that weave through the city’s undercurrents — their presence felt in every whispered deal, every stolen glance, every moment of dread that hangs thick in the air. They are rarely seen, their movements delicate and elusive, like shadows that shift just beyond the reach of light. Yet, they are everywhere. Artists, muses, crime lords, black market dream-weavers — the Fae are the secret architects of Halcyon’s very existence.
It is their magic, their ancient power, that maintains the Glamour — the intricate, unbreakable veil that hides the city from the world. Without it, Halcyon would be revealed for what it truly is:a city of nightmares. The Vampires and Lycan may wage their petty wars for power and money, posturing in their glittering fortresses and grimy streets, but the true power lies with the Fae.
For while they may control the surface, it is the Fae who keep the city hidden, and to anger them is to invite oblivion. The Fae’s power is not one that can be trifled with, for it is boundless, ancient, and unforgiving. To provoke the Fae is to summon the collapse of everything — the fragile peace between supernatural factions, the illusion of safety, the very foundation upon which Halcyon stands.
The Vampires may claim the skyline. The Lycan may own the streets. But they both know but without the Fae’s touch, their world would shatter in an instant. The Fae are the masters of Halcyon’s survival. They are the unseen hand that shapes the city’s fate, and their silence is more terrifying than any roar.
To cross the Fae is to walk a path from which there is no return.
Humans — The Ashen Few - Wardens

The Glamour, woven by the Fae, is a web of illusion that clouds human minds, erasing inconsistencies, fogging memories, and twisting the world into a dream of complacency. It nudges the curious into apathy, dulls the senses of those who would dare question, and hides the monsters beneath a veil of civility.
It was be hunted or become the Warden, they became the Wardens.
They see through the cracks — the faintest glimpses of the dark truths that lurk beneath Halcyon’s surface. These are the Wardens — the few who have glimpsed the horrors of the city, the inhuman creatures that crawl in the shadows, and the endless cycle of power that keeps them in control.
The Wardens are outnumbered. Isolated. Underequipped. They have no grand armies, no vast networks of resources. All they have is their resolve, their grit, and the fading remnants of humanity’s will to fight back against the unnatural tide that threatens to swallow it whole. Some hunt for vengeance, driven by the loss of loved ones to the creatures that rule the city. Others seek justice, hoping to expose the truth that the world has long forgotten. And some, perhaps the most tragic, fight because they can no longer look away — because the monsters beneath the mask have marked their lives in ways that cannot be undone.
The Wardens are the thin, broken line between humanity and the inhuman thrones of Halcyon. They are the last vestige of resistance, the fragile hope that there is still a way to break the chains that bind the city’s dark reign. They fight in the shadows, their struggle unseen, their victories fleeting. But still, they fight.
And every battle they lose makes the monsters of Halcyon stronger. But they fight anyway — because if they don’t, no one else will.
The treaties are weakening.
Old grudges and new ambitions are pulling the factions toward open conflict.
Some whisper that the Glamour itself is fraying.
Power is shifting.
Murders, disappearances, forbidden affairs — each splinter threatens to become a crack in the whole facade.
Who will protect the city and who will watch it burn? Will the veil shatter or will it grow stronger. Change is coming which side will you be on?