Chapter XXI: Coup d'état

From the Journal of Sean Callahan of the Invictus, Clan Nosferatu:
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.)

Chapter XX: The Games of Ancillae

Tuesday, January 4th, 2011

It has been over a month since my last entry. I lost a sense of where my thoughts were, as I found myself struggling to get a grip of the Gangrel's most sacred blood-skill. Desirae, the native girl who spent her time to train me, was astounding pleasant in various ways. I almost forgot she was Kindred during our time together. She reminded me of a friend I had who now lived in Istanbul, his name was Arin. Arin and I were close friends in college. We were not colleagues, so much that he was a young gypsy boy who tried to make a living in some fashion. Arin actually tried to rob me. Scent of myr. Air is thick. Sunlight passing through parted beams. Shade provided by sandstone walls. Children playing outside. Students listening to elder. Distracted by a tug on my satchel. Boy, twelve years. Makes off with a false-gold bracelet. I found Arin later, trying to pickpocket a student. I gave the kid a backhand across the face! But he ran off before I could throw my hand again. Arin's mother returned to the campus the next day, making Arin point me out. I was about ready to go into fisticuffs, but she instead apologized and returned my bracelet. I'm not sure why I remember Arin, but it goes to show that my memories are coming back slowly. 


I might eventually remember why I'm so angry at everything. Arin came back weeks later and tried talking to me. Somehow I found talking to the kid very therapeutic. With all the studying I was doing, seeing and hearing about Arin's life and his confidence, was a change of pace. Arin even showed me how he was able to maneuver society, despite his low economic standings. I showed him some pointers in being focused, he showed me how to loosen up. But that was a long time ago, I have yet to recall what happened to Arin since my Sire found me. Although I’m clear that the strength of my blood will restore the things that I’ve lost through torpor.


Sean, our leader, was intent on exposing Dr. Ortega and her schemes of breeding draugr. Completely understandable, as the long-term threat of a draugr infestation would be counter-productive to my goals. Although Ortega was instrumental in rehabilitating me, it wouldn’t be out of the question that she and Dr. Stigson had hoped to utilize me as an additional pawn for Savoy. A plan to infiltrate the Asylum of Ortega’s occupation was underway, Sean found information on several contacts that work at the Asylum and decided to pursue the War Security. 


The night was invested primarily in creating badges to pass off as the Feds, which took a lot longer than any of us suspected. Agnes and I pursued independent ventures while Sean worked at the details of the badges. For myself, I know that our unlife changes the way we interpret time. We aren’t subject to entropy the same way mortals are. We don’t get wounded the same way either. As a professional, I understood that whenever I took on a target that was a Kindred, draining their blood was the only surefire way to make a kill. I don’t use sniper rifles. Nijam advised that the best way to take a target down is up-close and personal. He was more skilled in poison brewing than myself, I wasn’t taught enough before he disappeared. I was left to improvise and it worked to some degree. When the time came, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to go hand-to-hand with some of the people who helped me. But on the other hand, I’m reminded that Kindred loyalties are far more duplicitous as those of humankind. I spent a good amount of time that evening to walk around the neighborhood. I have to say, I didn’t want Sean to make me a badge, it wasn’t necessary to conduct an investigation he would be doing... but he wanted to cover all possibilities. That’s fine. Where was I?

Wednesday, January 5th

Sean supplied the suits, the badges, we were set. Something did occur to us, Janus and Laura were missing. No matter! I wouldn’t mind taking down another Mekhet if the option arose. I admit there was something empowering about this enhancement to my blood, I wouldn't mind whatever Desirae would ask of me at this point. Well, Tobey and Agnes were by the car, while Sean was doing some interrogating for information regarding St. Roch Asylum, one of the human security guards that lives somewhere in the Tremé. Antonio and I were guarding the back of the house. Nothing suspicious. It was a bit boring. I checked some e-mails and clothing websites on my phone, sometimes figuring it would be nice to strut in the newest trends in the daylight. Foolish dreams. When Sean concluded his business, we reconvened. Departing the location, we tried to figure out our next move.


We met with Sheriff Donovan at our original Haven, the one by St. Louis #1 and which was compromised due to Strix involvement. Fuckin' owls! Sean gave information he gathered, concerning testimony that there were draugr in that Asylum. I was almost compelled to tip off the situation to Ortega, but given the undermanned situation of the Coterie and the Prince's disappearance, I wasn't going to throw my only available allies under the bus. Sean decided to visit his only witness, back at that old shotgun house. Given that we returned some few hours after midnight, the people were most likely asleep.


2AM


The rest of us waited outside... well I did, the others were in Agnes' vehicle a block down. That's when shit happened. Ominous hip-hop of doom blasting up the street from a lone car. Not to mention, some fuck using Celerity just leaving my vicinity... Sean doesn't run like Flash, he's ninja like Batman--- so I knew that wasn't him. Without a second thought, I ran over to Agnes and threw out my observations. At that point, Sean arrived and we loaded into the car. I didn’t ask where Sean was successful in whatever he wanted to accomplish. A vehicle blocked one end of the street, with the boom-doom vehicle closing in on us. Agnes bashed her vehicle through one end, after I told her not to worry about repairs. But Sean wanted to go back, even though we were a short block beyond the danger zone. Agnes was in a panic, she wouldn’t stop. Sean and I threw ourselves out opposite sides of the moving vehicle and we worked our way back. Look, I really don’t want to get into the details, but my left arm is still burning and funny smelling from Savoy’s lackey.


Surprisingly and thankfully, Sean was very effective with his tentacle-faced power. I didn’t even know that he took care of the bastards from the boom-doom car. Although next thing I know, a vehicle clips me and throws the tough guy and his vehicle over and kills some of Sean’s distracted victims. Sean goes over and fires a shot into the guy... I figured, eh--- what the hell... so I unleash my new claws and cut into him. I keep forgetting names. But then again, this guy wasn’t my target. If he was marked, I’d know him until final death. But he was an interference, Savoy’s lackey trying to take a stab at our work. He made a threat to us, then disappeared. Sean was better and revealed his position... we had to take a bit of faith just to attack the spot he blindly fired at. Well, it worked... and we now had a prisoner. Sean conveyed some of the encounter to Donovan. There would be a clean-up crew and we now have a hostage. I prefer him dead. Perhaps we just found an alternate way to infiltrate the scene...


Upon the wings of a falcon, I let fly the words which will divine worthiness in the name of our Dark Messiah.


M. Hassan




From the Personal Journal of Sean Callahan, Invictus & Hound of the Prince


January of the Year 2011

If I cared to notice, I would notice a chill in the air.

It has been many months since we have seen our Prince, and the city grows thick with anticipated violence.

We walk upon a razor's edge. It is hard to know when all hell will break loose. It is not a question of if, but rather when. And so we tempt fate when we prepare.

My coterie mates seem unaware of the precariousness of our position. "We have time," they say. "It doesn't matter if you finish making your FBI IDs today or tomorrow," They say.

But for all I know, tonight may be our last night to prepare. I'd rather spend it achieving our aims than preparing to achieve our aims... If that makes sense. I grow weary. Dawn approaches.

***

Tonight, we shall meet the fellows I have stalked for us.

***

Tonight we spoke with the Ward Security, and he confirmed our suspicions. Aside from MERELY wearing away the masquerade with her eating patterns, it seems our dear ex's mother is, indeed, in possession of Draugr. The kine spoke of a basement room where she was kept. His friend, pepite, knows more. We have this all on record. I hope it will suffice for the Blood Hunt. He knows and we know... hell, everyone knows who must have been behind the attacks the other night. This "evidence" is just paperwork. When Power and Chaos reigns, there will be less of this red tape.

***

Blood, Hell and damnaTION! Wherever we go, it seems Savoy's goons are right beside us. We returned to the Security guard's home, intending to bind him to me, so that we could easily gain entrance to the asylum and obtain more "hard" evidence (absurd! I wonder if the Prince's men are trying to get us killed). As we left, 2 cars boxed us in. We handily destroyed them and captured one of Savoy's goons, but that doesn't erase the fact that Savoy seems to know what we're about. Is there a mole amongst us? Moira was certainly eager to kill our prisoner. I wonder what information he holds.

SC

Chapter XIX: A Feast for the Damned

From the private Journal of Moira Hassan, Assassin of the Sanctified

Wednesday, November 24, 2010, The eve of Thanksgiving.


It wasn’t too long ago, but who keeps track of time when you have bullet-wounds to remind you? Ambushed right outside the Prince’s building, while the Prince was away. But it wasn’t a problem. The deceivingly Nosferatu, Sean Callahan, and his cohorts, agreed to host a soiree and I thought it would be a good idea to head the security details. Fortunately, I saw it effective to appeal to Sean’s ego as you may find as I write on. This cotorie, The Resurrectionists, or, The Innocents, as our illustrious leader would prefer to declare, felt that more assistance would be necessary to create the best and safest atmosphere for the party. Our most alluring member, Sibylle, managed to pull all her connections in order to provide catering and service for the following evening, so we were all supplied for the comforts. With no real surprise, she also located an abandoned Brewery for our use. We were met by her ghoul, the fidgety Marcus, whom I feel is still shattered by his encounter with the Strix. Sean sorted some details with Marcus about the place, but amidst the boredom of the constant talk, I threw my hand across the Nossie’s face. In shock and outrage, Sean threw forward his inbred gift of “shock-n-awe”. The tentacles and fangs were remarkable, but I did not find the amusement from his power as I had thought. Agnes, our dangerously old Beastie-granny, rushed with concern, almost paranoia. 

This was irritating, I gave a bold front, but it was prolonging the talking. Admitting defeat, I let Sean have his way. Marcus was already shaken further by this exchange between Sean and I, which did not help further anything. I remarked as Marcus exited the building, that Antonio is a fine example of a ghoul, appealing to Sean’s ego -but its true, Antonio did have more experience in various situations that afforded him fair composure... Nah, I was doing it to appeal to the Nossie’s ego. While the details fell into obscurity, we were compelled to Ms. Opal’s luxurious abode, filled with decayed air and blood-sucking flies. Gustav, an octaroon associate of Ms. Opal, allowed us through and guided us to her boudoir. Despite the cold factors of the winter air, Ms. Opal’s robust form was sweltering. Here, I could somehow pinpoint the size of the fly-ghouls gorging upon the blood-sweat bleeding from her pores. I’m not sure what the blazing hells was going on, but we were directed to a library where a Carthian meeting had occurred. There, we met a few neonates, a Lara, and a fellow who bolted out the window. Agnes was about to join the “throwing yourself out the window” party, but Lemuel and I made attempts to calm her down. Lem’s Lordly power was the only thing quicker than my grasp and as such, successful in calming her before another window’s fate was sealed. Given that wonderful greeting of fear, Sean had no confidence in one of our new security candidates. Specifically the one who fled. But I assured him, plainly, that it would work just fine. Unconvinced, Sean pressed the point of his need for efficiency. I really didn’t give a damn! Collecting ourselves, we exited stage right. For the duration, we attended our various covenant meetings. I personally made it a point to attend the weekly Lancea Sanctum Mass, held at Saint Alphonsus Church. Honestly, I preferred something that was vain in structural-design, because this place was so humbling. But no part of Lancea had a notable mosque in the region, so I had to make it worthwhile. Gorging ourselves upon our local food source- well, at least, I did -we recovered from our wounds and rested for the next day. 


November 25th, Day of Thanksgiving. 
While Sean chose to replenish his blood pool after giving a monthly dose to his ghoul, Antonio, the rest of us proceeded to set the gears in motion and work on the Brewery. Sybille’s crew broke down walls, set up new furnishings, decorated the region and ensured it was drunk on the exquisite. Myself, I set a crew in motion to equip the walls and rooms with security cameras. I spared no expense, but I wasn’t looking to give it prime security. My objective was to satiate the needs to a point. Sure, we were bringing in the majority of notable factors to this one location. Sure, this would present a tactical trap. But who would attack? I wanted to find out.


When it came to delegating who would be stationed where, I appealed to Sean’s ideas and he seemed more than willing to direct the entire security crew. I offered a point about being able to read auras, but ultimately Sean was able to do my designated task for me. So this night’s festivities would begin. Sibylle’s call for the Blood Dolls came in, dressed in fineries from fetish to high-fashion, everything that would make even the most lewd of Arabic women blush. Sean’s boon to Ms. Opal to bring in mountains of illegal drugs also came in. Guests were checked-in by Antonio, ranging from the mediocre to the prestigious of Kindred. Friends and enemies came in to quickly crowd the open spaces. This was definitely a cluster-fuck, as I reminded myself of how many people were here in this enclosed space. Already a pair was getting out of hand. I stood by in the control-room, the quieter part of the entire throbbing structure, all walls being assaulted by music that insulted the sounds EDC’s Las Vegas Rave scene. Sean announced his approach to intercept the two who were about to kill a Blood Doll from overfeeding. Calling in Antonio into the control-room, I moved to join Sean. Fortunately, the Nossie was able to reconcile the situation with a bit of that “shock-n-awe”, allowing for the girl to be taken to the medical area for an emergency blood transfusion. It was at that very same time, a white U-Haul type truck had parked itself by a docking bay near the back. Lara moved to investigate, as did Agnes who was already sweeping the perimeter. I stood by with Antonio and Lemuel in the control-room, while Janus and Laura were tending to the security out in the main area. Lemuel tapped into the police line, hoping to trace the origin of the truck’s license plate that was relayed to him. Sean moved to join Agnes and Lara, both identifying an odd beating against the walls within the truck container. With no one clear as to the nature of what was in this closed container, it was considered an option to dump the truck into the nearest body of water. I was curious, but I stayed put. Sean elected to move the truck himself, hot-wiring the box and taking its pounding existence out and away. Moving back onto the main floor downstairs, I checked on the injured Blood Doll and found things were well on their way. Sean had his radio open, allowing all of the security personnel to listen as our fear-mongering leader drove a short distance away from the party. The tires blew and holes popped out from all over the truck. The container door came loose. And a ravenous group of twenty-four armed Kindred, all starved and tattered, started making a run for the Brewery. Based on the information Sean relayed over the radios, I tried to make my way to one of the guests, Donovan, who was the Sheriff of New Orleans. But it was too late, the draugr had stormed the party and thrust the cluster-fuck into full swing! No point in reporting the attack to the Sheriff now. By the time Sean made it back into the Brewery, he made a declaration for free feeding rights to those who assisted in fending off the beasts. As we all engaged the crazed draugr in our own special way, Lem moved to take a more effective approach. Unfamiliar with the Kindred’s innate fear of fire, the blood-sucking lawyer made a Molotov cocktail from the central bar and was able to set two of the draugr on fire. Causing the remaining monstrosities to tap into that very primal fear, overriding their bloodlust -which also overrode my fury- we fled the scene. Donovan and the Invictus Primogen, Pearl, gathered their personnel to sweep the area and down the draugr to prevent a Masquerade breach. 


The aftermath of the event put us on cleaning detail of this ruined event. And in the end, Lem was able to find the root of this Mississippi license plate. Truck stolen? Yes. Who stole it? Unknown. Where was its last stop? … When I had learned that the draugr were retrieved from Dr. Esmeralda Ortega’s psychiatric facility, a chill went up my spine. The mind was the most powerful and most fragile think to a Kindred. Although I am one of the fiercest and deadliest of Kindred on this planet, nothing with all my power will tempt to challenge a Malkavian head-on. Legends speak of the Malkavians as demons, their council sought by the most daring of caliphs and fools. And like the enclosed Brewery, I felt myself enclosed just the same as we were to encroach upon the domain of one who previously helped me. All the same, the person whose childe lost someone dear to them, and that someone who was lost under my watch. Justice is cold and justice be damned! As my body refuses the light of the heavens and the waters of the earth, I pray forgiveness to Mother Livia for what is necessary and is yet a sin to the brothers I currently side with. With emphasis, I advised that Sean proceed to Ortega’s domain alone to gather information for the potential blood-hunt. Fortunately, Sean was already eager to do this mission himself. Upon the wings of a falcon, I let fly the words which will divine worthiness in the name of our Dark Messiah.


MH

Portraits of the Damned: Gabriel Hurst, Primogen & Champion of the Faith

Portraits of the Damned: Reynaldo Gui, Left hand of Savoy

Portraits of the Damned: Pearl Chastain, Primogen

Portraits of the Damned: Phillippe Maldonato, Seneschal of the Prince

Portraits of the Damned: Augusto Vidal, Prince of La Nouvelle-Orléans

Portraits of the Damned: Antoine Savoy, Regent of La Vieux Carré

Chapter XVIII: Feudal Ties

Friday, November 12

[1 day of down-time, Nov. 11]

Sean proposes to the Coterie a plan for their new domain:
-Increase the feeding modifier to positive by attracting more indigent/homeless population, with more secure places for them to live on the streets; use these homeless as eyes & ears and a form of passive security, thereby offer feeding rights to neonates: selling territory as a premiere feeding ground for visiting and less powerful Kindred.

The Coterie debate and discuss Sean’s plan of establishing an ‘All Night Soup Kitchen for the homeless’ non-profit company, to encourage homeless & vagrants to move into their domain, thereby enriching the feeding options.  Sean also asks Lemuel to offer his legal skills to establish this fake a non-profit as his contribution of service to the Coterie.

Later that night:
The Coterie receive a phone call from Angelique, Vidal's ghoul, informing them that they are summoned to a private event at the Maison de Ville, a hotel in the Upper French Quarter, there they are to be formally granted their new Domain in front of Vidal’s Inner Circle.

The Coterie plan on a Harvest theme party to announce their new domain in the Kindred world, they begin by investigating how to attract Blood Dolls to their inaugural fete. Lemuel investigates and finds information in his criminal case files for a group of fetishists called the Sycophants of De Sade, a 'Hellfire Club' involved in several homicides with occult themes.

Sean goes online to boards dedicated to pseudo-vampire clubs and blood dolls, [exceptional success] and sets up a meeting at a club named Loft 523 on Saturday at 11pm.

Sibylle decides to contact Sundown, the After Hours King, to consult on their Domain party.

Midnight, Maison de Ville Hotel, upstairs private banquet room.
The Coterie arrive, have their respective vehicles valet parked, are ushered upstairs to a private banquet room by a pair of mentally dominated bellhops. The Coterie notice that the entire hotel is vacant, except for a few hotel staff, which appear mechanical in their movements and reactions.

In a large, elegantly appointed room are congregated:
-Seneschal Maldonato [suspicious aura]
-Sheriff Donovan [unreadable]
-Primogen Isadora ‘Pearl’ Chastain [angry]
-Primogen Miss Opal [distrustful]
-Primogen Coco Duquette
-Primogen Hurst [envious]
-Regent Antoine Savoy [hateful]
-Hierophant of the Crone, Nathaniel Blanch [unreadable]

Both Sean and Janus use their preternatural senses to read their auras. After formal introductions, in which the Coterie members kiss the hands or signet rings of the Prince's Inner Circle, Pearl Chastain invites Sean to ‘tea’ at her public haven at 9pm Saturday, to introduce him to the NOLA Invictus. Blanch invites both Sibylle and Agnes to a formal gathering of the Crone at a future date. After formally receiving their domain, and the Coterie swearing fealty to Vidal, they are treated to a group of humans in an adjacent lounge. There they continue to socialize, with the exception of Savoy, who excuses himself and leaves.

2:45AM
After leaving the hotel, and as they are vehicles are being valet to them, the Coterie are attacked by a group of human thugs with Uzi’s and machetes. The Coterie manage to kill all but one of them,  who manages to escape, but not before Sibylle’s uses her power of Cheval on him; she later over hears him having a conversation on a public phone, and is able to pick up a phone number and a male voice.

After leaving the Coterie call Donovan and inform him of the attack. Donovan asks them to dispose of most of the bodies. The Coterie discover that many have bite marks throughout their bodies, having been fed upon by some Kindred.

End of Session.