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Victorian London 

It was a time of great upheaval,  the assassins against the Templars, monster against monster, the future of London as the foreseeable prize. 

The Frye twins had been dismantling Starrick’s influence across London piece by piece, sabotaging his enterprises and ruining his prospects, and hacking away at his control that stretched like tendrils into the deepest recesses of London.  With Jacob’s Rooks, the ranks of his Blighters are crumbling, their bodies found in gutters, in abandoned warehouses and littered the alleyways.  More so during the nights when a full moon hangs in the sky. On those chilly nights, constables would discover bodies of the fallen Blighters ripped into shreds, their blood darkening the cobble stones of the pavement.

Many suspected that the Rook gang leader Jacob Frye was a monster, or the murderer or a depraved cannibal. Would the Templars discover the truth? Evie lurks in the shadows encompassing London, working to complete her daily tasks in hunting Starrick's men and following clues that would hopefully lead to the piece of Eden. She had an inkling that the piece of Eden was in the tower of London and it also presented a chance to assassinate Starrick's right hand, Lucy Thorne. Her training etched into her bones, she wears shadows as a robe and hides herself from view. 

On another part of London, Starrick stands on the ledge, dark eyes surveying the people walking across the streets, a few busying bodies hurrying through their mundane lives. His eyes shifted to the plumes of smoke rising from the factories. They were out there..the errant arrogant twins running amuck and unsettling the careful threads of his influence that are the veins sewn into the city, and direct their life blood of the city. For thousands of years, the Templars watched over London, their influence a constant as reflected in the thousands of intricately carved gargoyles fixed on every proud edifice of the city. Their black eyes glittering brightly in the darkest of nights inside faces and bodies curved and twisted into creatures of malevolence that served as a warning against those depraved forces who seek wickedness, despair and disorder.

Now such a beast has come alive in the shadows and to raise havoc on his city. The stories whispered from the mouths of frightened men was of a vicious beast of claws and fangs. An animal, a depraved mental patient..

No matter..he would find the diseased animal and put it down in the way of his ancestors had done to any enemy who had dared to go against them. He caught a glimpse of a large shape moving swiftly across the roof tops, avoiding the lights reflected 

 Anger rushes through him followed by an angry buzzing in his head. His skin strains against his suit , reptilian skin rubbing mercilessly against silk. With swift hands he freed his body from the confines of his clothes. Arching his body against the whistling wind, he breaks into a sprint across the roof. His ears perk to listen to the smallest of sounds, he caught the mournful musings of the poor,the chattering of women, the angry voices of brutish men..and then. The heavy panting of an animal slobbering in eagerness for its next meal. His iron claws twitched in anticipation . Wings spread and catch the wind. He launches himself into the open air and follows the stench of death.

Evie was running on the rooftops somewhere in a corner of t he great city. Starrick's men were perishing at her blade by day, and by her claws at night. She hoped to close her jaws around the throat of the Templar Grandmaster soon. The sooner this was over the better. The beast within craved blood. Hopefully she could keep it under control before nightfall. The last thing she wanted was for her secret to be exposed to the populace. After pausing to catch her breath on the roof of a shop, she looked out across the horizon. He was out there somewhere. Yet as the battle between Rooks and Blighters raged on he remained hidden. A low growl rumbled within Evie's throat, her eyes becoming wolfish for a moment. He would pay for corrupting this city and the people within it.

She remained in human form but the beast within was still there waiting to come out. As she lept down into the dark allys of London she found it clawing at her from the inside, fighting to come out. Her beastial instincts told her that something was near. Something powerful. Something new. Something dangerous. She sniffed the air and snarled, pink lips pulled back to reveal long savage fangs. Her eyes became a bright red and glowed in the dimness of the ally. Luckily for Evie, she was alone for now. So no poor sod would witness the beast within coming out. The Frye woman looked at her hands to see that her claws had grown in, piercing through the fabric of her gloves.

She removed them, noticing dark fur, almost black had began to cover her hands and travel up her body. Her body was begining to change shape and grow, straining against the leather of her coat. She growled again, a desperate cry also escaping her lips as she tried to force the change from happening. Not here, not now. Why here? Why now? She could not anticipate. The wolf side of her had detected a new threat. One that she would need to defend herself against.

Starrick followed the smell that wafted in the breeze..it was a foul odour belonging to the most deepest pits of the city. His wings carries him to a spot on the highest landmark where below him a group of blighters were going about their business.

His eyes caught movement in the farthest part of the alley. Shadows swirling and stretching like a sink hole opening up.

What am I looking at? he wondered. He blinked sharpening his vision and caught the glow of red eyes and a vicious teeth. Ah a werewolf. He observes a creature from violent perverse myths. An excellent opportunity to end the attack and perhaps gain some insight into the perverseness of nature.

He spreads his wings and launched himself off the roof, allowing his body to dash towards the beast. The wind howled in his ears and iron taste of blood tainted his tongue. His nose caught a wisp of feminine perfume buried under

The odour of death and stench of animal. Ah so he was dealing with the fairer sex.

This would be most interesting the sharpened razors of his teeth slid from His mouth.

Evie saw a dark shape with wings descending towards her. Her wolfish eyes widened in surprise. She was still mostly human. Aside from her fangs, claws and intense wolfish eyes. Her body continued to strain against the fabric of her coat and her bones began to Crack and change shape. A cry of pain escaped the Frye sister's mouth as her legs changed shape, taking on a canine appearance. Her feet pushed through the front of her boots, looking like paws rather then human feet. Her fur was growing all over her body and her size grew, causing for her coat to rip in several places. Her spine elongated and pushed through her trousers, growing thick fur as it become a wolf tail.

Starrivk landed hard on the gravel floor raising stones as his eyes took in the sight before him. A monstrous Wolf emerging from the body of a woman.

How intriguing. He ponders only for second whether he should allow the creature the chance to defend herself but then the stench of blood from his fallen comrades hits him hard

Anger floods through his body coupled with indignation that this monstrocity dared yo darken the alleys of HIS city. She would die lady or not.

Standing on his haunches he launches his thick talons into her neck intent to spill blood.

A clawed hand grabbed his wrist before he could even touch her. The face of Evie Frye changing all while this was happening. Her grip was strong and with a grunt of effort, the nearly transformed werewolf pushed him back with incredible strength, throwing him against the wall of the ally. Her ears traveled to the top of her head, growing fur and becoming long and pointed like a wolf's. At the same time fur covered her human face, as her face began to stretch and change shape into a muzzle. Her large teeth grew to fit her massive jaws. Soon enough the transformation was complete, and wearing the torn garb of Evie Frye was a werewolf, standing at about seven feet tall. Now fully transformed, she could properly defend herself. She roared at the challenger before lanchung herself at him, claws ready and teeth bared.

The last thing crawford saw was the most beautiful pair of sapphire eyes in a mug of hair before his back erupted in pain. The beast was strong. Pain throbbing through his body and he had to test his wings to make sure no part had torn. The beast was vicious studying the silver teeth in the maw. He right ended himself and searched for an opening. Could it move. Most likely.