Geography Start with downtown, then go due north and work your way around clockwise. Downtown The District Second Avenue, from Broadway up to Church, is known as The District, due to its status as a historical preservation district. This is becoming a somewhat bitter joke as more and more of the cast-iron architecture buildings are renovated beyond the limitations of the historical preservation statutes, or torn down completely to make way for new tourist attractions. The three- block stretch is loaded with nightclubs, restaurants, souvenier shops, trendy boutiques and specialty stores, and other means of separating people looking for fun from their money. Granted, the current state of the District is a vast improvement from thirty years ago, when most of the buildings were decaying, the few businesses were rummage sales disguised as antique shops, and the nightlife consisted primarily of sleazy bars, porno shops and hookers openly parading their wares. On the other hand, the District is in peril of losing its status due to the extensive architectural changes. It says something about the city in general that the local alternative weekly newspaper has a regular column entitled "Architectural Crimes". The District has a number of noteworthy locations, including a few that have Elysium status for the Kindred, one that's a Fianna hangout and a couple that are popular with Mages of both the Technocracy and the Traditions. Butler's Run Butler's Run is named after the owners' dog, Butler, who during the remodelling took advantage of the opening of a walkway from one end of the building to the other, turning it into a dogtrot. The building has had its original cast-iron superstructure preserved, but has had extensive work done to permit an open breezeway two stories high through the structure, as well as the addition of a penthouse at the back. From the front, Butler's Run has little to distinguish it from its neighbors, other than the breezeway. From the back, however, the penthouse sticks up and out quite noticeably, resembling an airport control tower, all black steel ribs and vast expanses of glass. The resulting disruption of the District skyline caused a great deal of debate in the Planning Commission, but as usual the owners' plans were approved. Only plans that involve beer or liquor licenses ever run into trouble getting approval, and the owners of Butler's Run only asked for mixed comercial/residential rezoning and permission to modify the existing structure. At the street level in the front is Agora, a shop that carries international products - jewelry from around the world, sweaters from Ireland, gold filigree from Russia, exotic candles, unusual t-shirts that have nothing to do with the music industry, etc. The clerks are usually two women, both of whom are dressed in trendy/alternative expensive fashions and spend their off time having shallow debates in coffeehouses or admiring modern sculpture in the art gallery across the street. Back toward the back is a shop that carries movie memorabilia, and a praline shop. The latter is well worth visiting, especially for people not native to the South who have never met up with the praline, an amazing confection guaranteed to leave you in deep sugar shock. Upstairs are offices, and the two-story apartment of the building owners, which includes the infamous penthouse. Access to these areas is controlled through locked security doors. Market Street Emporium Another building that has been remodelled internally into a series of small shops, the Emporium went through its metamorphosis many years ago, and has not succumbed to the radical-change virus that infects so much of the area. The interior is wooden, with a massive central staircase at the building's core. The businesses here are a mix of trendy and unusual, with the oldest resident being Windows on the Cumberland. Windows is a natural-food restaurant at the back of the building, even with the street level at the front but a story above at the back due to the slope of the land. Its dining area is small, and feels cramped on initial impression, but includes a second level up a creaky staircase. The back wall of the building was replaced long ago with huge windows that look out over the river, giving the restaurant its name. The restaurant has a Soup of the Day, a Bean of the Day, a Beer of the Day, and does a terrific loaded baked potato, a massive Idaho spud buried under steamed vegetables, the day's bean, and two kinds of cheese. On weekday nights there's poetry readings, and on the weekends live jazz. A number of activist groups meet here. Just before Windows, in the hallway leading to it, is a fashion boutique specializing in 1920s and 30s styles, some of it genuine and some of it reproductions. Across the hallway facing the boutique is a coffee shop, Java Java, serving cappucino, espresso and lattes from early in the morning until early the next morning. The two stores in the loft are a pet supply store, Hot Dogs and Cool Cats, and Goddess and the Moon, a NeoPagan store that offers incense, books, altar tools and Tarot readings. See the chapter on Mages for more information on this store. Downstairs in the front is a vacant space, that used to house a Native American art gallery. In the back, with frontage on First Avenue North, is a delicatessen that serves croissant sandwiches and French pastries. Between the kitchen of Windows, the roaster at Java Java, the hot dog counter in the central atrium, the incense from Goddess and the Moon upstairs and the bakery/delicatessan downstairs, the aroma in the Emporium is nearly overpowering, a heady mix that grabs people by the nose as they pass by on the sidewalk out front and draws them into the complex. The atmosphere inside, with the old wood and exposed brick, and the mix of unusual establishments, is highly conducive to unusual experiences. The Gauntlet is slightly lower inside the complex, and Paradox tends to resolve quietly. East Nashville North Nashville Gallatin Madison Rivergate Belle Meade Bellevue Green Hills Davis-Kidd Davis-Kidd Booksellers is without a doubt the largest bookstore in town. Many people hold the opinion that it is also the best. While other stores may have friendlier service, more accomodating premises, and a wider selection of non-paper media, none of them have the Davis-Kidd cachet. The store occupies the lion's share of a shopping center just past the Mall at Green Hills on Hillsboro Pike. The main entrance is under a massive square clock tower, and flanked during business hours with tables and carts of bargain books. The foyer is large enough to accomodate four people easily. Beyond the oak and glass doors lies the main chamber, three stories high in the center, with a mezzanine around the third story. Shelves, again of oak, line the walls and march in columns across the floor, carrying hardcovers and paperbacks, fiction, poetry, religion and philosophy from the long checkout counter past the special services desk to the back entrance, a pair of doors by the History and Medieval Studies section matching the front, that let out into a two-story lobby with a spiral staircase and a fountain. Rising from just off center of the main floor is a grand staircase that branches two-thirds of the way up, the left side going to the computers and technology section, and the right to the seasonal materials. At the back of the mezzanine is the childrens' section, with books, toys and a play area. The front of the mezzanine has a cafe, with a few small tables in the tiled area between the cookbooks and the counter, and more out in the upstairs hallway of the complex. Expensive rich desserts and gourmet coffee are the primary sales, although sandwiches on croissants and soups are available. The staff are courteous without being ingratiating, helpful but not intrusive, and erudite while avoiding condescension. Children are enthusiastically greeted upstairs, encouraged to touch and try. Book search is available, allowing customers to special-order out of print volumes as well as current works. The Tremere have taken the store, its owners and its employees under their protection. Mages of the Order of Hermes have made individual arrangements for access to the non-public services, but no formal treaty exists between Kindred and Awakened. The Verbena prefer to obtain their books through their own store in the District. While not part of Elysium, most Kindred will not tamper with Davis-Kidd, not after the Tremere invoked the Curse of Sunfire on the last poor lick to feed on a store employee. Hermitage Old Hickory Donelson Antioch Vanderbilt West End Special Zones for Kindred: Town Hall: Since 1882, Zechariah has ruled from the Downtown Presbyterian Church. The building was designed in 1851 by William Strickland, a noted architect who also designed the State Capitol, among other major edifices. During the Civil War, a hospital was set up in the basement, like at most of the churches in the city. In 1882, Sinclair, looking for a place to make his own, settled on the building. He had the interior redone in the Egyptian Revival style popular at the time, styling the church after the Temple of Amun-Ra at Thebes. The building has been carefully maintained ever since, with no remodelling or alterations. Rumors have circulated in the mortal population from time to time about cults meeting in the basement, but with an active Presbyterian congregation holding services there, nobody has investigated. The minister, of course, is a Ghoul bound to Sinclair himself. Elysium: The Elysium is not a single area in Nashville. Instead, Sinclair has extended Elysium status to a number of places, most of them dating back to the Civil War and being preserved as cultural centers. These include the Belmont Mansion, Belle Meade Mansion, and Cheekwood, but not the Hermitage. Sinclair does not like the idea of allowing visitors to his Haven. The Hermitage is therefore off limits to Kindred without his express invitation. Recently, Sinclair has decreed that Elysium status be extended to the Wild Horse Saloon in the District. He has flatly denied that status to the Hard Rock Cafe, just a few doors down the block. The Rack: The Rack has moved several times during the course of Nashville's history. In the city's early days, the area by the river now known as the District held the primary night life. In 1860, 69 brothels were counted along Front, Market, College and Cherry, later First through Fourth Avenues. Numerous attempts were made to clean up the area, most simply forcing the businesses to relocate. At some points, there was no Rack -- during Prohibition, for example, when speakeasies were scattered throughout the city. In the late 1940s and 50s, Lower Broad again became the Rack, as Nashville became known as Sin City. Sleazy bars, peepshows and strip clubs took over the two blocks of Broadway closest to the river. This persisted until the late 80s. Mayor Richard Fulton started a city beautification project. Fulton's Folly originally addressed the issue with cosmetic measures, installing concrete planters in the more blighted areas. These provided boutonnieres for the pimps and a place to sit for the prostitutes and winos, but totally failed to improve the environment. Finally, the city council began passing measures that, through the power of the Health Department, the Beer Board and the Vice unit of the Metro Police, slowly forced the adult bookstores and peepshows out of the downtown area. The Rack moved out to Nolensville Road in the south and Dickerson Road in the north, again the prostitutes and sleazier businesses simply relocating. Night life for people with better taste remained unfocused. Then came a drive to bring high-class nightlife back downtown. The District achieved its own identity in the 90s, thanks to a merchants' coalition and a push by the Chamber of Commerce. New restaurants, clubs and shops opened along Second Avenue. A microbrewery began production, spawning imitators in the region later in the decade. Opryland bought a large section of the east side of the street down near Broadway, tore down the classic cast-iron buildings and put up the Wildhorse Saloon. A Hard Rock Cafe moved in further toward Broadway. The tourist business revived downtown, as did local nightlife, and the Rack was reborn. Currently, the District is a favored hunting ground for casanovas. Kindred hunting in the area should remember Special Edict 1, however, and feed by cunctation. Sinclair has vowed to call a Blood Hunt on anyone killing in the District. Other Hunting Grounds: Nashville has a number of good hunting grounds, dpending on preferred method and appearance of the hunter. Oddly enough, while the citizenry is distrustful of strangers in general, under specific circumstances they can be downright friendly. A method that has gained popularity is the lost tourist ploy. The Kindred dresses in expensive Western wear, and asks passers-by for directions to noted landmarks. Many times, the Kindred can convince the mortal to enter his vehicle or accompany him away from witnesses in some way. "Excuse me, but could y'all direct me to the Wildhorse Saloon?" As dependent as Nashville's economy has been on tourism, many natives will do whatever they can to help a lost tourist. Even with the recent growth of other industries relegating tourism to a low spot on the economic pyramid, old habits die hard. As a result, natives die easily when tourists are concerned.