Victorian era London, circa 1850. Where men were men, or extremely high class dandies who wore more lace than the women. The women were dainty flowers carrying around gemstones that begged to be freed from their prisons of pomp and circumstance. And the other 99% of the population, ranging from dirty lowdown scoundrel to... slightly not as dirty lowdown scoundrel.<br/><br/>The Crimson Dahlia was a tavern in the city's underbelly, catering to much of the aforementioned. One needed a fence, back room to the left. One needed supplies, back room to the right. One needed to find the Order of the Argent Triad... well. That was a bit harder. The group was the self appointed police against all things that went bump in the night, the biggest being of course, vampires, werekin and demons. Never leave home without one's Lesser Key of Solomon, holy water and silver bullets. Assuming one's quarry wasn't the archliches, werelords or Elders.<br/><br/>The steampunk revolution had taken hold once alchemical engineering had been perfected. Two and four wheeled metal contraptions lined the streets for those who could build or afford them. The Triad had their own equipment, tailored specially by their resident engineering whiz.<br/><br/>Oni was a small Japanese girl whose parents had emigrated twenty years earlier to the British Isles. From a young age, she'd been smitten with how things worked and made more of an effort taking her toys apart then playing with them. Her first project had been a small companion orb she named Iggy and she kept him in repair to this day.<br/><br/>Her parents had died when she was in her teen years and she'd needed to rely on herself until she found the Triad. An unfortunate accident had taken her right arm but they provided the materials to build a steam replacement and she in turn had promised to be their grease monkey. So there she sat in her workshop most days, welding goggles over her violet eyes, putting together some latest contraption or weapon.<br/><br/>But the Triad was getting really busy. There was a vampire coven sprouting up in the city that was growing their numbers feeding off the homeless and discarded or insane folk. There was no shortage of that, so they had no issues raising their ranks. Not to mention the wolfkin on the outskirt forests and towns had been increasingly more aggressive.<br/><br/>Oni could fight, but she wasn't a hunter. Even still, the Triad was so stretched thin, she was tapped anyways. There had been reports of a wolf pack north of the city who had been in combat with something or other and she was sent with their resident doctor to investigate. So there she was, in the middle of the night, walking with a rifle in her hands, her older companion trailing behind her.<br/><br/>"I don't know why they sent you. If they expect anyone to be wounded, they're likely dead by now." She grumbled to herself as they crept deeper into the forest.<br/><br/>Her companion was a taller, older gentlemen who wore a dark cloak over his usual attire - priest vestments. Motioning for her to be silent, they moved along. Unsure of what they were looking for but somehow being certain they'd know it when they found it.