Winter.
February 2, the Year 2011
A month has passed since I last had time to record my thoughts. The very devil works in Madame Ortega's laboratory of insanity. We have a corroboration of sources on her foul experiments. We are ready to present our findings to Seneschal Maldonato. The city has been quiet for this month. I have heard from none of our comrades... I do not trust it.
After I feed,
I called Maldonato's phone, but he did not answer. Donovan, Sheriff of New Orleans, returned our call and asked us to present our findings to him at a luxurious suite at the Hotel Monteleone in the French Quarter. Apparently Maldonato attends to business outside New Orleans. I do not like it. Donovan has given us no reason not to trust him, but that doesn't reassure me. Perhaps he is working for Savoy. We will go prepared for the worst.
9PM
The worst was far worse than we were prepared for. Not only is the Sheriff working for Savoy, he always has been. Savoy is his Maker. How that could have gone unnoticed by Vidal is beyond me. Perhaps Vidal was weak. According to Donovan, Maldonato is no more; has he met the Final Death? We have drunk from Savoy's veins to seal our forced servitude. My coterie mates betray our loyalty to ... well to no one. To me. I panicked and disappeared from sight. Donovan is quite perceptive, and pledged to destroy me. No one moved to aid me. We are alive, though. We have pledged fealty to Savoy, but I will not serve him. We are to kill Pearl Chastain, the Primogen, and recruit by force Miss Opal, inform her of the change in leadership. I shall propose we pledge fealty to Primogen Chastain (ST: wrong move here).
Half past 10PM
My coterie-mates are beside me. We shall meet Pearl Chastain at her lover's apartment near the Spanish Plaza. She trusts this lover completely, so we shall trust her. Not all Elders can be the fools Vidal is, can they?
11PM
They are. Pearl's lover was none other than Donovan, himself. He slew her while she skyped with Savoy on the large flat screen television. It was a trap for us, to test our loyalty to Savoy. It turned into a trap for Donovan, though. I snuck out, thinking my coterie mates would betray me as they had before- indeed, several of them intended to. I heard Sybille pledge her fealty once again to the usurper Savoy before Moira and Agnes ripped Donovan to pieces. I was then able to react. I could not make my body move... perhaps Donovan had cast some unholy Sanctified blood sorcery... I saw Donovan's Final Death, his body quickly turning into dust... I destroyed the Skype connection with Savoy as his blurry image shrieked in frenzied fury. We searched the remains of Donovan's ashes, finding an old fashioned skeleton key, a security passcard, a serrated Bowie knife with some form of script etched on the blade (Latin perhaps?) and his gold signet ring.
Now we must decide what to do. Are we alone? Shall we go our separate ways? Shall I flee? Or is now the time to strike. In the absence of other powers willing to take the reins, will there be a place for me? Savoy must be hurting... his most powerful retainer is destroyed, we have the evidence that should bring a blood hunt on ortega if there were justice... Were all of these the machinations of the Baron Cimitiere?
SC
***
Our chronicle has ended...
(ST Note: The chronicle ended a bit sooner than anticipated due to one of the players mistakenly siding with the losing faction (The author of this entry). He invariably led his Coterie astray when he decided, almost single-handedly, to back the wrong pony. They lost.)
(ST Note: The chronicle ended a bit sooner than anticipated due to one of the players mistakenly siding with the losing faction (The author of this entry). He invariably led his Coterie astray when he decided, almost single-handedly, to back the wrong pony. They lost.)
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