*A METROPOLIS OF CONCRETE AND GLASS, TOWERING ABOVE THE SHADOWED STREETS. NEWSON CITY, A LAND OF OPERTUNITY. THEY SAY YOUR CAN GET ANYTHING IN NEWSON CITY, AND IF THEY DON'T HAVE WHAT YOU WANT THEY'LL STEAL IT FROM SOME ONE WHO DOES.

PEOPLE COME TO NEWSON CITY FOR THIER OWN REASONS, DAMNATION, SALVATION. REVENGE, A FRESH START. PEOPLE COME HERE TO HIDE, OR TO FIND THEMSELVES.

YOU CAN STOP IN AT A CLUB WHERE THE YOUNG PEOPLE DANCE AND SWAY TO RYTHMICAL PUMPING AND LASER LIGHTS. OR YOU CAN LEAVE THE STREETS AND RISE TO THE PRISTENE HALLS OF GLASS SO HIGH UYP THAT IF YOU OPEN A WINDOW YOU'LL DIE.

WHY ARE YOU HERE? MAYBE YOUR LOOKING FOR SOMETHING, OR SOMEONE. MAYBE YOUR LOST. MAYBE YOU HAVE YOUR OWN CAUSE OR QUEST.

WHAT EVER.

THIS IS NEWSON CITY, MAKE OF IT WHAT YOU WILL

* There is a story, an urbane myth. If you know the right people in the right place they can show you some one who knows a guy. For the right price, he can be made to remember a certain man who can lead to a ware house. what's in the warehouse? if you need to ask that then you don't know the right people...*

"The sounds!!! I need the right tunes!"

*Inside the ware house a figure jumps up and down in frustration, around him stand row upon row of crates. The figure reaches one crate and pulls out a flat sheet of cardboard, then out slips his blessed prey DJ DIGWEEED: LA FRANCE, Fades REMIX*

"shhhh my ears prick and I hear the tunes, heaven has no solace if its got no TUNES!!!!!"

*he races towards away from the stacks of crate, the vynal disk clasped to his chest. Then skids to a halt in front of his decks and flips a switch. music sharper then any ever achieved by any mortal flows from the mountainous speakers arrange around the walls.*

"strangers.... hmm this one will... and then ...oh my! hahaha! ooh well now if that's what will... I'm mad! mad! Sard's mad as a malkavian!!!!"

*he is mad, a malkavian past future present, it makes no difference to him. he'll tell you your future, or read your past. if your willing to pay the price...

*walks into the city* a lone traveling monk

*As the monk passes through the city gate a young urchin, his feet wrapped in rags, his clothes barely held together wasks up to the monk*

"need some things? a place to sleep? some information? cheap rates, anything you need i can get it for you"