It liked to hide itself between buildings. The entrance to the bar was for the most part, unassuming. To look at the place, you'd never know that it actually spanned half a city block, extending into the space behind the businesses on either side. Samuel Karde's life was nothing but noise until he moved to the city Clare. He liked it there. He got a job and found a pub and kept mostly to himself. And then twenty-six people died. The explosion rocked the bar and everyone inside could feel it. Samuel Karde lived to see another day, but what that day brought was the man in the hood. The man with the tie and the impeccable suit. And the railroad spikes. The Bard.