In a world where cities have fallen and chaos has taken control… there is a magical place on the border between the ElfLands and the World. A place where magic meets technology and the results are always unpredictable.
BorderTown rises from the ashes of the old, a city torn in two. One a shining citadel of new hope, a rising trading post between the magical lands of the Elves, and the commodities, (coffee and chocolate are the favorites,) of the world. Where corporate rule is held in a tight grasp and the politics fly with the conflict of too many cultures.

Then there is the old city, Soho, where magic runs rampant, uncontrolled and in unpredictable spurts through the crumbling decay of once great structures. Where children of all types gather to hear the sound of the music, to feel the pulse of the night.

Soho, home to runaways, the escape for the unwanted and unloved. It is a wild place where hope lives in the hearts and in the eyes of the youth, but is lost in the prejudice of races.

A dismal place of gang war and power struggles, where the elven gang of Bloods and the human gang of Pack fight for a foot hold over blocks of dirty warehouses and fast paced night clubs.

Where the beat of the music is the heartbeat, the rhythm the binding of the soul.

Many dangers lurk in Soho for the unwary, there are tales of horror and terror abound, of lost lives, and of dragons slain. Of demons and evil spells. A place where the life of a child means less then that of a loaf of bread.

BorderTown is a place where Crime Lords reap profits preying upon the innocence’s and trust of the young. Long Lankyn, the Butcher of BorderTown as he is oft called, is the most powerful of these Crime Lords.

His holdings in Soho are vast. From the pristine walls of the Oberon House; a house where children’s dreams and souls are stolen for mere profit and pleasure of the TrueBloods, (how the Elves like to refer to themselves), to the slums that dot the Mad River, home to WarfRats; the human children too strung out on Mad River water to recognize the depth of their abasement, or even to understand that the water has driven them insane.

He lurks in the shadows of the Bloods he controls. His hands kept clean from any stain, his identity kept secret, his position on the Eleven High Council safe through silence and corruption.

He rules Soho with an iron grip. His Bloods, the minions of his biding, may not always know for whom they work, but they are TrueBloods and do as they will as is considered their due. A dedication to the greatness of their race.

Lankyn is the embodiment of evil and corruption, or is he? He stands behind the facade of eleven courtliness, his charm and wit hide his true nature. To look upon Corwyn of the House Oberon is to see a beautiful and enchanting Elf, one who moves with grace, and is quick with his chivalrous charm.

An Elf of greatness and standing but to say that you know Long Lankyn is near impossible. An ancient with the experience of too many lives. Is his soul as black as rumors suggest?

Eyes as cold as a gray winter morn, he chills even the bravest of hearts. Few dare stand in opposition to one such as he, and those who do find themselves a target of his wrath.

He stops at nothing to gain what it is he thinks he wants and what will profit his Family of Bloods.

written by Lan