Trading the stark night air for the fetid breath below, I leapt through the round opening into the street and soon felt my bare feet against the wet concrete, The soles of my feet were too calloused to be hurt, and my legs were strong enough to cushion the blow. The first thing I noticed was the smell - that had been the first sign of the change. Blood... stale, rotting, but blood nonetheless. I crawled forward, using my arms for stability. Claws scratched across the concrete, blackened fingernails, sharpened and burnt. I could see nothing, the eyes long gone, but smell, and the feeling of the cold floor was enough to guide my way.I noticed as I stalked the dark pathway that my legs now bent two ways. A grim smile crept across my face. The blood was nearer. Sharp canines dug into my lower lip. The salty taste only infatuated me. I ran, hell-bound through the dark halls, eyes dead. I was but a shadow screaming through the tunnel. Looking closely, they might have seen the tie, the shirt, the shoes without soles, the mind without a soul. The new life could become possessive.I reached it, the scent told me that. Bending my head down to the body, not caring why, I began to tear hungrily at the stale flesh.Fallen Angels consists of three interlinked adventures that take place among the Children of the Night (Nosferatur and Jackals) of New York City, and the people who are breaking through the illusions.New York is a city on the borderland of Metropolis and the worlds beyond our own. The Children of the Night in New York are described in the background, where an overview of the city is also found. The Background can be used to create self-contained adventures taking place in New York, or as a base for improvisations in which the characters mingle with the Children of the Night.Floorplans, character statistics, and source information on the New York of Kult are all included.
