Hunters In The Shadows

Locations

Browse the public locations that belong to this world. Select a card to read more.

J&J Private Investigators

Nestled within a historic brick townhouse in the heart of New York City, J&J Private Investigators occupies a space rich with character and purpose. The office bears the marks of its transformation from urban decay into a thriving enterprise, with exposed brick walls and original hardwood floors telling the story of its restoration. Large windows flood the workspace with natural light, offering glimpses of the bustling Manhattan streets below and providing a connection to the city's constant energy. A commanding wooden desk, anchored by a plush cushioned chair, serves as the command center of operations, perpetually laden with case files, handwritten notes, and the glow of an ever-present laptop. Two substantial file cabinets stand sentinel against one wall, their drawers containing an increasing accumulation of investigations and client histories. A tall potted plant thrives in the corner, a living testament to the care Justin Brown and Jordin Thomas invested in breathing new life into what was once an abandoned, neglected space. The solid wooden door at the entrance has become a threshold where troubled clients cross seeking answers, their hopes renewed by the dedication of its proprietors. Together, this couple transformed their vision into reality, establishing a sanctuary of expertise and discretion. But will their investigations lead them into something they won't know how to handle?

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The Dark

Beneath the sprawling metropolis of New York City lies a labyrinthine network of forgotten passages known only as The Dark—a realm of decaying infrastructure that predates the modern subway systems by decades. These ancient tunnels, originally constructed during the city's industrial boom of the late 1800s, have long since been abandoned and sealed off from the world above, left to decay in perpetual shadow. The few remaining electrical fixtures, relics from a bygone era, flicker weakly and unpredictably, casting dancing shadows across crumbling brick walls and rusted metal frameworks. Stagnant pools of murky water collect throughout the tunnels, their surfaces disturbed only by the constant movement of countless rats that have made these depths their home across generations. The air hangs thick with moisture and the scent of rust and rot, while the distant sound of dripping water echoes through the endless corridors. Beyond the mundane creatures that scurry through the darkness, The Dark harbors far more sinister inhabitants—entities of paranormal origin that seem drawn to the city's subterranean depths, their nature unknown and their origins unexplained. Bats nest in the highest recesses of the tunnel ceilings, their wings creating unsettling whispers in the stagnant air. Local legends speak of disappearances and strange encounters within these passages, tales that have kept explorers and curious souls from venturing too deep into the abyss. The Dark remains a place where the boundary between the natural and supernatural grows dangerously thin, a hidden world existing just beyond the reach of civilization.

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The Williams Deer Farm

Nestled in the rolling hills of rural Tennessee, the Williams Deer Farm has stood for generations as both a working estate and a place of profound tragedy. The sprawling grounds, once known for breeding and hunting prize deer, stretch across hundreds of acres of dense forest and open meadow, where the red clay soil holds the footprints of countless hunters and their quarry. The farm's reputation was built by the Williams family—particularly the renowned triplet sisters Gabriel, Oertha, and Dabria, born beneath a blood-red autumn moon and marked from birth with matching auburn hair and piercing grey eyes that seemed to perceive hidden truths. Under their father's tutelage, the sisters became legendary trackers and sharpshooters, their skills honed through years of learning to read the language of the forest before they could read written words. The farmstead itself, with its weathered lodge and sprawling barns, became a gathering place for the hunting elite who sought to learn from the Williams family's unparalleled knowledge of woodcraft and survival. Everything changed the night their mother vanished into the forest and returned as something no longer human—a creature of shadow and hunger that brought death to their father and shattered the family forever. Today, the Williams Deer Farm stands as a place of haunting memory, its grounds now patrolled by the transformed sisters who have dedicated their lives to hunting far darker prey than any animal that roams its woods, their legacy forever marked by loss and purpose.

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66 Horizon Ave, Sunset Apartments

66 Horizon Ave stands as an unassuming tower among Manhattan's glittering skyline, its weathered brick facade concealing secrets that stretch far beyond the mundane concerns of its human residents. The Sunset Apartments complex comprises ninety-six individual units stacked vertically, each offering glimpses of the perpetually restless city below—a metropolis of honking vehicles, neon signs, and the ceaseless pulse of nocturnal commerce. What sets this particular building apart from its neighboring structures is the ancient protective enchantment woven into its very foundation, a magical veil so intricately crafted that it renders the true nature of its inhabitants invisible to ordinary passersby. Within these walls exists a thriving community of supernatural beings who have chosen or been forced to coexist in close quarters, their diverse cultures and needs somehow balanced precariously in this vertical sanctuary. The building's history stretches back to the early twentieth century, though records of its earlier supernatural tenants have been carefully obscured or destroyed. Among the building's current occupants is a solitary writer whose small apartment offers commanding views of the street below, unaware that the walls surrounding her shelter creatures of legend and myth. The enchantments protecting the building are maintained by an unseen council of elder residents who ensure that the veil remains impenetrable, allowing both worlds to exist in parallel without collision or revelation.

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Dalton'S Workshop & Garage

Nestled amid the sprawling desert landscape of the American Southwest, Dalton's Workshop & Garage stands as a weathered monument to decades of automotive history. The crumbling structure, constructed from deteriorating concrete and corroded steel panels, bears the scars of countless sandstorms and the relentless desert heat. A flickering neon sign crowns the roof, its faded glow casting an otherworldly amber hue across the barren terrain during twilight hours. For years, Dalton maintained a reputation as a masterful mechanic, restoring classic vehicles and keeping the old shop operational against all odds. Everything changed on a fateful evening when a gravely wounded hunter sought refuge at the garage, pursued by a shadow creature of unimaginable terror. Dalton's quick thinking and courage allowed him to aid the hunter in vanquishing the otherworldly beast, an encounter that fundamentally transformed his life's purpose. Behind an inconspicuous staircase concealed within the garage's depths lies his true workshop—a sophisticated underground facility filled with advanced machinery and arcane knowledge. Here, Dalton has dedicated himself to crafting specialized weapons, protective artifacts, and mechanical devices designed specifically to combat paranormal threats. His reputation among the secretive community of hunters has grown substantially, drawing seekers of supernatural solutions from across the world. The garage above serves as an effective cover, allowing Dalton to maintain his enigmatic existence while his genius continues to forge instruments of protection against the darkness lurking beyond ordinary perception.

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Armory Of Letters

Nestled deep beneath the earth in a locations known only to a select few hunters, the Armory of Letters stands as humanity's most heavily fortified defense against supernatural threats. Constructed from reinforced concrete, burnished steel, and silver-threaded alloys, this underground bunker was engineered with multiple layers of security designed to thwart both mundane intrusion and paranormal penetration. The entrance itself is famously treacherous, rigged with mechanical traps and ward-based defenses that have claimed the lives of the unprepared and unwary. Within its depths, two primary chambers serve distinct but equally vital purposes: the first houses an extraordinary arsenal of weaponry specifically forged and enchanted to combat creatures of the otherworldly realm, while the second contains meticulously catalogued archives detailing the vulnerabilities and behavioral patterns of dozens of documented paranormal entities. The weapons range from ancient blessed blades to modern electromagnetic devices, each catalogued and maintained by a dedicated order of guardians. The knowledge contained within the filing chambers represents centuries of accumulated intelligence, gathered through both triumph and tragedy. Approximately a dozen such fortified repositories have been established across the globe, hidden in remote locations from mountain depths to desert canyons, yet remarkably few hunters have ever discovered more than a single facility. The Armory of Letters remains a whispered legend among those who fight the darkness, a place of last resort and ultimate preparation for those brave enough to seek it out.

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Mcallister Safe House

Nestled on a quiet residential street outside St. Louis, the Mcallister Safe House presents itself as an unassuming craftsman-style dwelling with clean white exterior walls accented by deep brown trim and forest green shutters. A low brick wall encloses the property, creating a welcoming boundary that belies the sophisticated security measures concealed within its structure. The expansive garden surrounding the home has been meticulously maintained over the years, providing both aesthetic charm and strategic sightlines for surveillance. Susan, the long-time proprietor of this sanctuary, has spent years retrofitting the property with state-of-the-art magical and technological defenses that remain completely invisible to casual observers. Beneath the cheerful living spaces and comfortable bedrooms lies a carefully hidden basement chamber, accessible only through concealed mechanisms known exclusively to authorized visitors. This clandestine room serves as both a repository for paranormal artifacts collected across generations and a fully-equipped alchemy laboratory where delicate and dangerous work takes place. The house has earned its reputation as a reliable haven for those seeking refuge from supernatural threats, its mundane appearance serving as perfect camouflage for its extraordinary purpose. Every brick, beam, and board has been chosen with purpose, creating a fortress disguised as a home in the heart of an ordinary neighborhood.

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Manhattan'S Grim Alleys

Manhattan's Grim Alleys represent the shadowed underbelly of a sprawling metropolitan center, where towering steel and glass monuments to human ambition cast long shadows over crumbling streets below. The neighborhood has devolved into a haven for organized crime syndicates, illicit drug trafficking networks, and those pushed to society's margins by circumstance or misfortune. The narrow passages between decaying buildings serve as arterial pathways for black market dealings, where whispered transactions occur in darkness and desperation drives both predator and prey. For those seeking refuge from authorities or more sinister pursuers, the labyrinthine alleys offer sanctuary—though protection comes at a premium, traded through networks of informants, fixers, and underground operators who control access to safe houses and safe passage. The district pulses with a dangerous energy distinct from the gleaming corporate towers that dominate the skyline above, where supernatural investigators and hunters of dark forces have learned to navigate the treacherous social landscape. Abandoned warehouses hide secrets that challenge the boundary between the mundane and the otherworldly, their depths concealing evidence of occult activity alongside ordinary criminality. The constant threat of severe weather looming on the horizon adds to the neighborhood's oppressive atmosphere, as if nature itself recoils from the corruption festering within these streets. Here, modern civilization's veneer of order proves paper-thin, revealing the primal chaos and ancient darkness that lurks beneath the city's foundation.

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Stargazers Crystals And More

Nestled on a quiet corner of the city's oldest district stands Stargazers Crystals And More, an establishment that has become something of a legend among those who know where to look. The shop is the personal domain of Fiona Stargazer, a practitioner of the old craft whose reputation precedes her throughout the urban landscape and beyond. While most have abandoned the ancient ways in favor of digital convenience, Fiona maintains her peculiar trade—offering carefully curated crystals, protective charms, and divination services to a devoted clientele. Her true mastery, however, lies not in the objects displayed in her shop windows but in the vast network of names she has accumulated through her clever marketing campaigns and customer database. Among the supernatural community, whispers circulate about her collection of true names—those genuine identifiers that grant a practitioner direct influence over a person's will and actions. This knowledge has made her both feared and sought after by hunters, creatures of the night, and those desperate enough to seek her counsel. The exact circumstances that drew her to this particular city remain shrouded in mystery, though her arrival has fundamentally shifted the balance of power in the region. Few dare to cross Fiona Stargazer, for her influence extends far beyond the physical realm of her storefront into the digital networks where modern names and identities are recorded. Her presence has become undeniable, transforming Stargazers Crystals And More into far more than a simple shop—it is a nexus of power in an otherwise ordinary metropolis.

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Stillwater Compound

Perched upon a remote plateau near the magnificent expanse of the Grand Canyon and adjacent to the sacred lands of the Havasupai people, the Stillwater Compound stands as a testament to generations of secrecy and purpose. Established decades ago by the enigmatic Stillwater family, this isolated settlement was originally conceived as a refuge from the outside world, though its true function evolved dramatically over time into something far more mysterious. The compound's centerpiece is a formidable structure of weathered stone and heavy timber, its rugged construction designed to withstand both the harsh desert elements and unwanted intrusion. Surrounding the main cabin are several smaller wooden buildings and storage sheds, arranged in a protective cluster across the plateau's rocky terrain. The entire compound is encircled by an electrified fence system and sophisticated security measures that suggest its inhabitants have long been concerned with keeping both the curious and the dangerous at bay. Perhaps most intriguingly, beneath the foundation of the main cabin lies a concealed cave system, its natural passages having served purposes known only to those granted access within the Stillwater family's inner circle. The compound's strategic location—isolated yet positioned to monitor the vast canyonlands below—has made it an ideal headquarters for those engaged in pursuits best conducted away from civilization's prying eyes. Local lore speaks of unusual activity and unexplained phenomena associated with the site, though the Stillwater family has maintained an impenetrable wall of silence regarding their operations.

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The West Woods

The West Woods form a vast and foreboding wilderness that stretches far beyond the urbanized regions of the nearby city, where the boundary between civilization and primal nature grows increasingly blurred with each passing mile. This ancient forest is dominated by towering pine and oak trees that have stood for centuries, their dense canopy blocking out much of the sunlight and creating an perpetually shadowed realm below. Those who venture into these woods with innocent intentions—seeking outdoor recreation or a brief respite from city life—often find themselves woefully unprepared for the genuine perils that lurk among the towering timber and undergrowth. The primary threat comes from the werewolf packs that have made these forests their territory, creatures that have claimed dominion over the deepest regions where human civilization holds no sway. Most notorious among these beasts is Tara, a black werewolf of legendary reputation who actively hunts human prey, deliberately luring unsuspecting visitors from the city into the forest's darkest corners before pursuing them as sport. Her victims are rarely recovered, as the forest's vastness ensures that their remains vanish into the wilderness, untouched by rescue or investigation. The danger is so profound that even vampires—creatures typically fearless in their supernatural might—deliberately avoid these woods entirely, recognizing a threat beyond their capacity to overcome. Experienced hunters and trackers have learned through hard-won wisdom that entering the West Woods requires not just skill and preparation, but also the safety of numbers, as traveling alone is considered a death sentence.

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The Punch Bowl

The Punch Bowl stands as an unremarkable white-washed structure adjacent to the old railway district, its bland exterior deliberately designed to discourage curious passersby and evade unwanted attention for centuries. Descending into its depths reveals a cavernous underground venue that has become the epicenter of nocturnal excess, where pulsating bass frequencies reverberate through crimson-painted chambers and strobe lights pierce the darkness in hypnotic patterns. The establishment takes its name from the traditional party beverage—a mixture where each guest contributes their own elements—and operates with deliberately lax entrance policies and suspiciously affordable libations that keep the masses flowing through its corridors. The venue thrives as a den of hedonism, abundant with spirits, illicit substances, and workers of the night who recognize the intoxicating allure of easy currency. Those versed in the supernatural arts notice peculiarities invisible to ordinary patrons: the way certain staff members cast no reflections in the establishment's mirrors, the strategic positioning of exits that funnel crowds deeper rather than outward, and the unsettling quality of the crimson walls that seem to absorb light rather than reflect it. The Punch Bowl operates as a meticulously orchestrated feeding ground, masquerading as a sanctuary of liberation while its proprietors methodically cultivate an atmosphere of addiction and dependency. Year after year, revelers arrive seeking euphoria and community, unaware they've entered a predator's lair where the true price of admission extends far beyond currency.

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