ATLANTA EPILOGUES

On the second weekend of November, 2025, Prince Monica Monroe of Clan Malkavian and new Prince of Atlanta hosted a weekend-long celebration to celebrate the city’s victory over the Sabbat. She extended her Hospitality to members of the Camarilla and Anarch Movement, inviting various luminaries, leaders, and persons of note from cities throughout the world. She was honored to receive a special state visit from the Ashirra, a sect of Kindred from the Middle East and North Africa.

DINNER PARTY

Prince Monroe held a dinner party for early arrivals to ask for council in a close setting. Rumors swirled as each guest was announced. The Ashirra sent Tegyrius of the Banu Haqim, accompanied by his wife, Victoria Ash of Clan Toreador. Victoria was accompanied by her childe, Farid, who had recently made his debut in kindred society. Prince Vera Velasquez of San Antonio made a rare appearance outside her domain, having offered information, support, and resources in support of the retaking of Atlanta.

Various dignitaries who could not attend sent their regards and congratulations to the Prince on her recent victory. Various Princes from domains throughout the world offered their praise, and the Prince was honored to receive the best wishes of the Justicar Lucinde. Among the letters were ominous words of praise from Sascha Vykos of the Sabbat, and a request from Theo Bell of the Anarch Movement that the Prince govern the city with fairness.

When the Vizier Tegyrius took his seat at the table, he found a note had been left for him which relayed some scandalous comments made at his wife Victoria’s expense by a Toreador sitting directly across from him. Maintaining his composure with a self-control honed over centuries, Tegyrius later cornered the offending Toreador who offered both him and his wife a major boon, along with his apologies.

MEET THE AUTHORITY

Shortly after dinner, Prince Monroe and her guests arrived at Elysium. After a short announcement, the Prince invited Victoria and Tegyrius to have their first dance in the city. The new couple shared a moment before the gathered Kindred, together under the spotlight, and when the music ended, they invited the other guests to join them in a courtly dance. It was a high energy start to the evening of celebration.

Meanwhile, FIRSTLIGHT was working on an agenda to identify leaks within their organization. They arranged for a transfer of information, a profile of a burned dead drop sent to a number of suspected agents in their organization. Each transfer used its own unique security code. If anyone used their specific code, they’d find a tainted cache of gear and expose themselves as a leak. Lo and behold, two different groups of Kindred fell for FIRSTLIGHT’s trap. With little to gain and facing a lot of firepower, both managed to survive the encounter and escape.

FIRSTLIGHT proceeded to open dossiers on everyone captured on camera and their sensors at the location. However, the Kindred did manage to save a scorched painting. It wouldn’t be until the next night that they’d discover what secrets the painting held.

While Hunters and the Prince took many people’s attention, there were a number of smaller, but equally compelling stories unfolding in the lives of guests throughout the night.

One attendee’s mortal mother, believing she was attending a social event, ran into her no-longer mortal daughter. With her Mask exposed, the daughter worked hurriedly to send her parent elsewhere. She was not the only Kindred guest to encounter a mortal relation that night. In some cases, it was a product of hunting too close to home. For others, it was the sins of the past from across the sea and South of the border coming back to haunt them.

Amidst the celebrations, other guests found their businesses and interests under attack as threats emerged from the shadows. Those guests had to quickly reach to preserve their holdings, which in some cases, had been built over centuries.

Finally, some guests were made to face difficult choices, which in some cases, were the product of their past. In one notable case, an unspeakably high sum of Fang Coin was offered as contract for one Kindred to kill another. While some of these stories were resolved better than others, many remain open, and are likely to return to the surface once again.

THE ARSÈNE SOCIETY — CRIME, CURATED

A shadowy rival calling himself “The Curator” sent word to the Society that they had already been framed for the inelegant theft of the Prince’s prized painting, a commissioned masterpiece meant to honour Victoria Ash and Tegyrius. Their only hope of avoiding ruin lay in playing the Curator’s game, locating the stolen work, and restoring it to its rightful place without a single witness noticing their involvement. For a faction built on elegance, subtlety, and the thrill of the impossible, there was little choice but to take up the gauntlet thrown at their feet.

Thanks to a timely surge of intuition from a perceptive visionary and the well-rooted guidance of a local wanderer of the wilds, the Society found and solved a riddle that led them to Atlanta’s famous bronze sculpture, From the Ashes. Once they reached the monument, they discovered three stone plaques had been embedded into the statue which were not known to be parts of the original work. Though unobtrusive, these pieces carried dormant secrets waiting to be revealed. Solving their puzzle caused the monument’s base to shift, revealing a staircase into darkness.

The Arsène Society descended the stone steps to see the painting they sought, situated at the end of a long hallway. While the corridor seemed unobtrusive, its danger became apparent when a quick-thinking Duskborn filled the hall with haze, exposing a lattice of now-visible lasers.

As each member attempted to draw upon the power of their blood, they found their hunger rising sharply with no payoff, as if an invisible hand was constraining their abilities. A meticulous scholar tested the laser barrier with a stone and learned just how devastating a misstep would be. Amid tense debate, a nimble trickster stepped forward and maneuvered through the deadly grid with breathtaking finesse until they reached the pedestal at the far end. When the lasers dropped and the others joined them, the Society discovered that the painting would not be released without a tithe of blood. Three faction members stepped up to willingly offer their vitae so the artwork could be claimed.

With the piece finally in their possession, the final and most delicate task remained. The group navigated unseen back into the heart of the gathering with the concealed painting and restored it to the shrouded easel undetected. Only when the canvas settled into place, with no one aware the painting had ever been absent, did the Arsène Society allow themselves to relax and enjoy the rest of the evening. And though the Curator’s motives remained unclear, his games had accomplished something glorious: it brought all facets of the Arsène Society into a single, sharply honed point. In Atlanta, they proved not only their skill, but their cohesion and left with a reminder that even being framed for a crime can become an opportunity for triumph, provided the right hands are willing to take the risk.

THE AURORAL SHIELD: ECHOES IN THE HALLS OF POWER

The Auroral Shield received a letter asking them to recover items from the estate of Jan Piterzoon that were threats to the Masquerade. There were three objects to recover: a mysterious black box, a disc, and a piece of sheet music. The faction set out to the task.

The black box was located in Elysium, having arrived through some unknown providence. Inside was a mixture of ashes and vitae. Upon investigation, the Auroral Shield discovered the remains were the still-living form of a vampire. Through use of disciplines, the Shield was able to restore enough life force to bring the ashes back to life. The vampire, once revived, introduced himself as Samuel Addler, an investigative reporter who was planning on publishing a piece which would reveal the existence of Kindred society, a severe risk to the Masquerade. Samuel had been forcibly embraced by another vampire, Hiram Banks. Hiram was tracked to his local haven, apprehended, and given over to the Prince’s court. It was later revealed that Hiram had been hired by a benefactor to turn Samuel.

Acquiring the disc required a series of exchanged boons. Having secured it, it was revealed to be a 1990s Zip Disk, which was imprinted with a bloody fingerprint. Once accessed, it had a collection of audio files that were entitled "Peter's Playlist".

The sheet music was ostensibly an ordinary piece of classical music which had been altered with various markings. When played, an unseen chorus began to sing in accompaniment. The piece told a twisted story which began with the creation of Eden and beyond, and twisted into the history of the Kindred. An investigation into the sheet music further revealed that these alternations were made at the behest of another Kindred forcing the composer to make the changes before violently killing them. The faction could not determine the identities of either party.

The Auroral Shield succeeded in recovering all three objects. During the course of the investigations, they learned that the letter was sent to them by none other than Heironymus Bosch, believed to be a servant to Justicar Lucinde.

THE CHIMERA GROUP – LAYERS UPON LAYERS

In the quiet hours after the gathering dispersed, the remnants of the Chimera Group’s investigation lay scattered like the last pieces of a completed puzzle. What began as a simple directive to root out a single betrayer had unfolded into a labyrinth of misdirection. Evidence packets meant for the Group had been siphoned away, and redirected into the hands of other gathered factions which sowed confusion and forced the investigators into a frenetic scramble.

Yet rather than fracturing under the strain, the Group adapted. They negotiated, traded, bartered, and maneuvered their way to reclaiming more of the missing files than anyone could have predicted. One particularly resourceful Tremere, well-versed in the art of acquisition, gathered a surprising number of these stray pieces, creating a cache of insights that allowed the Group to piece together patterns no one else had seen.

Midway through Friday night, the balance shifted again as a nervous ghoul delivered three additional documents to different members of the Group. This unexpected influx was quickly turned to their advantage. With the combined efforts of all Chimera members, the truth eventually emerged that there were actually two unaffiliated moles.

A cunning Gangrel, following instinct as much as logic, uncovered that one of the infiltrators was an especially prominent figure within their own faction. What followed was a tense, quiet reckoning.

Treachery has its own form of gravity and, once pressed by circumstance, the two moles discovered each other and formed an uneasy alliance, scrambling to destroy or distort anything that could tie them to the sabotage. Their collaboration might have succeeded, had the rest of the faction not begun connecting threads of their own, comparing notes and tightening their hold.

In the end, exposure was not a spectacle. The faction united with the Director to contain the damage and ensure the security of their ongoing projects. Though the night had been rife with mistrust and manipulation, it concluded with a renewed commitment to faction stability. Atlanta remained a viable site for future Chimera Group works. And as dawn neared, the investigators departed knowing they had preserved more than just a location but the integrity of the work itself.

THE DIGITAL COLLECTIVE – “THE GHOST IN THE MACHINE”

The Digital Collective was tasked with finding an anonymous blackmailer, “The Basilisk,” so the Elders of the city wouldn’t have to deal with “computers.” With the help of a semitruck full of the best computer equipment money can buy, the Collective managed to find the blackmail victims and some of their Touchstones. This eventually led to Postlife Systems, the true hiding place of the Basilisk.

Postlife Systems was an AI startup specializing in creating digital copies of the dead, so that their loved ones could speak to them again. It turns out, the company had accidently generated millions of fetters, trapping the ghosts in the machine. And when some of their digital copies realized their originals were still alive, and vampires, a sentient hivemind was born, and named itself, “Basilisk.” Fortunately, the Digital Collective was able to hold back the wraiths and get the innocents out of the building while finding the central Basilisk server. With the help of a powerful necromancer, they were able to combine their skills with technology and dark magic to erase the system, banish the wraiths, and trap the Basilisk in an oversized hard drive.

In the end, the Basilisk was slain using its only weakness: smashing its hard drive with an axe on the side of the road.

THE EPICUREANS – “HOW THE SAUSAGE IS MADE”

Body: Every seven years, Midnight Marrow Veinyards or their proxies must renew a pact with a mysterious entity to keep an especially tantalizing vintage of blood flowing. To achieve this, the Epicureans had to track down four marked items attuned to the different resonances in the blood. When so attuned, the Epicureans, acting as the veinyard’s proxies, studied the objects and gained brief, yet vivid visions from each of lavish dishes, the preparation of which required great skill. The vision’s message was clear: prepare a feast! But, a fifth item? Their instructions only spoke of four. Animal resonance was missing from the other four. Had the entity grown tired of its pact or was it merely testing the proxies? The object tied to Animal Resonance offered a different vision, one that told of a way to usurp Midnight Marrow’s place in the ritual and claim the pact for the Epicureans. Though tempted by the entity's offer, the Epicureans chose the simplest route, the one that would cause the least friction with their patron.

Arriving at the banks of the Chattahoochee River, the Epicureans were unsure of what the offering might entail beyond the food itself. The mystically inclined among the group tried squaring the circle and then placed each meal —Fabada, Chipirones Afogaos, Tarta de Nuences, and Verdinas con Almejas— inside the arcs of the circle. Around this, they placed mortal vessels they were told to bring if they wanted a reward. The river swelled and took on a vaguely feminine shape in response to their offering. It (she?) walked/flowed to the circle to claim her gifts and kissed each mortal vessel on the forehead before returning the river to calm.

The Epicureans were stunned. "I swear she just smiled at you."

"What exactly happened?"

"What about them?" The mortal vessels twitched, their blood changed, they would not last the weekend.

"They smell amazing."

The Epicureans enjoyed just a taste of the river’s gifts that night. A semblance of life returned to their bodies, a glimpse of what each lost to their Beast. Hallucinations danced across all their senses, as if drawing them into another world. Most of all, they felt amazing. The next night, they drank them entirely, giving themselves wholly over to revelry. Two nights later, they all awoke in a naked pile with no memory of the party they had while draining the last drop to celebrate their achievements in Atlanta.

==== elsewhere ====

"My dear," Tegyrius's voice was as calm as ever, but there was something else to it this time. Two of the enchanted vessels had been gifted to him by the Epicureans. Although they were not meant to last long, his sorcery was able to preserve them for a few more days. It was exceedingly rare to find a mortal he could feed from, to say nothing of the vintage. "Would you like a taste?"

THE EXECUTIVE BOARD – TINKER, TAILOR, TRAPPER, TRAITOR

The Executive Board had a simple task before them: to collect important documents. These documents, unbeknownst to them, were burdened with potential and danger.

Their search quickly led them down a dark path. The former Sabbat Kindred of Atlanta had located a member of the Amici Noctis, a mysterious group within Clan Lasombra rumored to be the principal architects behind the clan’s defection from the Sabbat to the Camarilla. Recovering this document meant the Executive Board could send aid across the country, warning of a potential impending attack against an Amici member. As thanks, an agent was sent to thank the Lasombra members of the Board for their help. Through a private arrangement, the Executive Board has chosen not to pursue the details of this document any further.

In addition, the Executive Board purchased the original copy of Agata Starek’s Manifesto on the Politics of Joy, rather nasty piece of Anarch propaganda that claims it is the duty of the Movement to diablerize members of the Camarilla, and also a benefit and perk of the revolution.

Finally, rumors abound that a third document was discovered, but none will speak of it. What is known is the Society of Heralds is abuzz that multiple Life Boons were exchanged and put into trust of the Board to not discuss this document's particulars. The fact Clan Toreador is now on the warpath and targeting the Board at all levels may say something as to what was discovered, but only those sworn to secrecy know the truth… for now.

THE HAYMARKETERS – TROUBLE IN BIRMINGHAM

Seneschal Blakely of Birmingham thought he could sneak off to Las Vegas for a vacation, but his reputation preceded him. For the past year, the Prince of Birmingham has been absent, likely due to the effects of the Beckoning. His Seneschal, a Tremere, had overseen the domain in his absence. He led the domain’s affairs with an iron fist, making enemies within the Gangrel, Nosferatu, and Ravnos clans. Aside from his draconian tactics, the Seneschal was known for two things: his fascination with Gargoyles and his love of gambling.

Theo Bell had one of his lieutenants incapacitate him as he returned from a night of high-stakes entertainment. Having more than enough problems with the Ventrue, Theo decided to send Blakely to the Haymarketers and to allow them to determine what to do with the cruel Seneschal. Having only rumors to go on, Bell needed people who could determine the truth of Blakely’s indiscretions.

Working together, the Haymarketers learned the extent of the Seneschal’s cruel administration. Having hired a group of Gangrel to remove a local family of Werewolves, Blakely then gave the lupines the location of the Gangrel’s temporary haven. He captured two Nosferatu who had collaborated with the Sabbat, and was in the process of turning them into Gargoyles. He had also detained the Touchstones of a group of Ravnos musicians when they couldn’t pay him a toll in exchange for Hospitality.

Despite having a variety of potential judges, the accusations were grave enough that the Haymarketers decided to forgo gathering evidence and holding a trial. One bold member volunteered to destroy Blakely, knowing fully well that Clan Tremere would seek vengeance. In the days that followed, rumor began to spread that the Haymarketers had embraced street justice over advocacy and restraint, leaving many to worry what this might mean for any kindred leader faced with unpopular decisions.

THE IRON HORSEMEN – HUNTING GROUNDS

The Iron Horsemen have a reputation for getting their hands dirty often - and there is usually a non-trivial amount of blood and bone involved in the process. Atlanta presented a bit of a different challenge for the Horsemen - their efforts to build infrastructure to help Kindred move across the country swiftly and safely continued and Atlanta was to be a centerpiece of that operation. Delving into the old Sabbat haven in the city, the Horsemen were able to find documents that gave ownership of several key areas and land within the city, including the primary MARTA hub and the airport - which would allow them to operate and expand in those areas easily.

What they didn’t anticipate was that a pack of Garou had *also* taken an interest in these locations, and forced the Horsemen to hand over those documents. The following evening —through an alliance with the Executive Board and with support from the Prince of San Antonio— the Iron Horsemen were able to break the strong influence blockade the Garou had, which brought them to the table for negotiations. The Iron Horsemen have a long history with the Garou, and in many cases, those relationships are amicable for both sides. This history led to the negotiations going relatively smoothly - no blood was spilled, and the Garou offered to give the Horsemen the MARTA hub, with appropriate taxes collected. The Garou retained control of the airport. In addition, they outlined that low humanity Kindred would *not* be welcomed, pointing out the Horsemen had some in their midst that had fallen very, very far from Humanity.

How steep these taxes are —or to what extent the faction’s relationships with Garou will be impacted— remain to be seen.

THE LIMELIT CIRCLE – SOCIAL MEDIA STUDIES

Despite being overheard numerous times saying that social media would be the death of all Kindred, Victoria Ash knew better. She had come to witness the power of mass influence derived from a following. Finally, she thought, there was a way to weaponize popularity, and it was a power she wanted for herself.

She reached out to the Limelit Circle with a request: help her understand how to wield the power of social media. Her assistant sent a list of requests, asking the group to reach out to Prince Monroe’s guests to conduct street interviews, film product endorsements, and show off their dance moves. Prince Monroe had only one condition: she also needed the group to test a captive FIRSTLIGHT algorithm which she believed had been engineered to identify Kindred. She provided a secure server which the Limelit Circle could use to post their content without risk to the Masquerade.

The faction quickly went to work engaging with the crowd. They secured a boon over the Red Lister Germaine to get him to take part in a choreographed dance. Victoria was especially pleased at this video. They uploaded brand collaborations and found sensitive footage to test the FIRSTLIGHT algorithm. The faction interviewed various Kindred, asking them what justice meant to them, ultimately asking Tegyrius and Victoria.

The Limelit Circle’s reputation is quickly spreading, as Prince Monroe and Victoria are rumored to be delighted at the group’s success. Meanwhile, Victoria is rumored to have started a quiet push for a relaxation of the Camarilla’s technology prohibition. This movement, however, is still in its infancy.

THE MIDNIGHT CONGREGATION – “REQUIEM OF MASKS”

Ever since their debut in Los Angeles, the Iconoclast's attacks on the faiths of the Midnight Congregation had steadily increased in frequency and severity, with the latest two occurring in Atlanta just before Prince Monroe's celebration. Believing the trail still warm, the congregants launched a dual investigation into attacks at the Gold Club and Freedom Park. A trail of clues and a substantial bribe led the ecumenical detectives to one of the most degenerate motels in Atlanta. It was not long before they had cornered the Iconoclast in room 108.

As the investigators began their interrogation, the cornered “Iconoclast” laughed defiantly, "you haven't been read in, have you?" With that, he produced a membership pin of the Midnight Congregation and affixed it to his jacket. It was at this moment that the eldest among the interrogators realized the truth behind a young Malkavian's vision of the Iconoclast. Imagery of diving through the eye of the Midnight Congregation's mask led to another mask then another and another. Each attack, at least each since the first, was simply one member of the Congregation killing another as their faith dictated and blaming it on the faceless demon they'd created. The assassin before them confirmed as much before suggesting that the domain’s Seneschal had invoked the illusory cover that the Iconoclast name gave to strike against the Church of Caine. This suspicion appeared true as a description the faction received of an underworld figure responsible for one of the attacks did indeed match the Seneschal.

In the middle of the gathering, the assembled Midnight Congregation confronted Seneschal Devereux. They deflected her flimsy denial with the evidence they brought, but to their surprise she did not back down or crumble. She challenged them. Did they really think that religions like the Church of Caine and the Bahari could peacefully co-exist? The idealistic young Kindred claimed they could. With a sinister smile, the Seneschal showed them the two paths they could take. They could either tell everyone they discovered the truth behind the Iconoclast, but that truth would shatter the Midnight Congregation, or they could keep the secret and cling to their vision of unity among faiths. The choice was theirs.

==== Later ====

Seneschal Devereux sat before Prince Monroe to review the events of the weekend. "By the way, why is it that a member of the—let me check my notes, Midnight Congregation—expended a major boon for me to punish you?" The Prince's tone held far more curiosity than malice.

"They didn't like the truth, that their group was built on lies. Oh, and something about me killing a Sabbat and an unintroduced kindred. That was a private matter, reprisal for Johannesburg."

"So... no crime then, really, save that you took the Right of Destruction from me. Still, a boon's a boon. I'm sure we can come up with something suitable. Let's start with you cleaning up that park of theirs."

==== Much Later ====

Against the dissent of a single voice, the witnesses of Atlanta spread the secret of the Iconoclast to the rest of the Midnight Congregation - it was simply another mask for congregants, one worn in the pursuit of division, instead of unity. The truth seemed almost too obvious to those who lost allies to the bogeyman of the faithful. It did not take long for the fragile peace between the religions to completely fray as leaders of the various Kindred faiths soon renounced their membership one by one. The Midnight Congregation’s tentative peace remains but a memory, perhaps a Dream.

THE PROMETHEAN CONCLAVE – “VAPOR”

The letter the faction received was sparsely written, but serious in its implications. A new substance, Vapor, had been found in Atlanta. Though the initial samples had been sparse, it was rumored to have bizarre effects on Kindred physiology. The Promethean conclave was tasked with investigating Vapor, identifying its source, and determining if its effects were at all connected to symptoms described in the Codex Sanguine.

The faction set about their task. They managed to identify someone with a sample of Vapor, and studied its effects. It granted a boost to the strength of any Kindred who consumed it. They identified the distributors of Vapor, a group of Anarchs. Eventually, they found the creator of Vapor, a thin-blood, who produced it through an elaborate recipe which involved Sanguine blood and mortal tears, as well as both Blood Sorcery and Thin-blood Alchemy. The group was fascinated by its effects, and realized there was a potential market for its sale.

At the end of the weekend, multiple Kindred were attempting to synthesize Vapor. One group sought to localize its production in other cities, while another sought to partner with the Iron Horsemen to distribute it.

THE WILTING LILLIES – “HANDLE WITH CARE”

The evening started as the faction uncovered a group of elite hunters using dead drops and works of art to send secret messages. Solving a clue hidden in a damaged painting, the Lilies were able to open a blessed cryptex, revealing a message written in Portuguese. It contained clues which led to three items hidden in three locations. One of them was identified as a painting of a woman discovered beneath Terminal Station the night before.

Arriving at a church, the coterie discovered that their vampiric disciplines had no power. Fortunately, the hunters’ defenses were laughably superstitious, using useless wards like garlic and running water, which allowed the Wilting Lillies to save the painting from a fire trap. The lilies tore off the back of the painting and shined a light through it, discovering a series of cryptic letters cut into the painting. Combining those letters with the word, “Vigenère,” a type of cypher, they found they were able to decode a message: “Sif capture.” (Coincidentally, the code phrase needed to decode the Vigenère cipher was “Vigenère.”)

The clues also led the faction to the Basilica of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. There, the Lilies encountered the same divine power that prevented their disciplines from working, and discovered a glass statue of the Virgin Mary. Smashing it, they found another message inside. Later, the groups from the two churches met up and combined their clues, discovering that the hunters had an attack poised to take place any minute at a local funeral home.

Arriving just in time, the Wilting Lillies found Sif, a Brujah Elder, hiding and resigned to die. Before the coterie could get their bearings, As Sagradas, known as the most elite vampire hunters in the world, arrived in a cloud of Velum Sanctuarii. Without their vampiric disciplines, the fight quickly went south. As Sagradas brought Sif down with a hail of bullets and staked two Lilies before the rest could escape.

The captured Lilies were interrogated and threatened by FIRSTLIGHT, before being released with a tracker and a target. Confused and scared, they sought the help of the Seneschal who offered her aid. Together, they gathered a team and set up a trap for their former captors. When agents arrived to capture their target, a brutal ambush ensued, delivering a devastating blow to the Second Inquisition and providing a distraction to enable the rescue mission to save Sif.

HELP WANTED

Prince Monroe had done it: Atlanta was finally secure, taken back after years of Sabbat occupation. It had taken a coordinated campaign, resources borrowed or given from neighboring domains, and years of fighting, but the Ivory Tower once again controlled the city. Where battle plans and intelligence had once consumed her court’s attention, governance and decorum were becoming much more important to ensure the city’s stability. That meant that Atlanta needed a Herald, and Prince Monroe wanted someone perfectly suited for the job.

Before the city’s fall in the late 20th century, Atlanta had harpies, four of them in particular, who met on Saturdays to gossip and discuss domain happenings. Prince Monre’s grandsire was their leader, and together, the four of them played bridge. In seeking a Herald, Prince Monroe devised a trial specially to honor the city’s former harpies. She issued cards from a special deck to the various factions. A good Herald should be able to build a coalition, she reasoned. The face cards from the deck were reserved for the city’s leaders, leaders, and influential Kindred. Naturally, a good Herald should show politeness, and be able to persuade the city’s elite. Lastly, she drew upon her clan’s collective madness to create a methodology for scoring the contest, and released it back into the Cobweb. Over time, it would dance its way across its infinite strands. A good Herald should be adept at uncovering secrets, she decided.

From afar, Victoria Ash heard the domain was in need of a Herald, and sought to position her childe Farid for the role. While Victoria had little interest in challenging Prince Monroe for control of the city, it seemed practical to retain some congestion to it. Installing the domain’s herald was the perfect opportunity to keep an eye on Atlanta, and to help facilitate Farid’s rise in Camarilla society.

At the start of Friday, each faction opened an envelope of cards with a special set of instructions. The cards would be used to determine the next Herald, and the factions could either seek to amass cards to advance their own contestant or trade them off to others. Many initially sought the position, but soon realized that the path to victory was difficult, and that earning the support of a likely winner was perhaps more prudent. Some retained their cards, uncertain of their value, as more and more Malkavians received the psychic instructions Prince Monroe had transmitted across the Cobweb.

By Saturday, more and more cards were traded, with some contestants having learned the city’s leaders held the most valuable ones. Victoria Ash herself held the Queen of Hearts. Tegyrius was the King of Spades. Other cards were held by other officers and guests. In time, these were awarded or traded as well.

Partway through the evening, only a few contenders had enough cards to competitively seek the position. Victoria’s childe Farid saw his odds diminishing, and traded his cards away, which left four remaining. A Nosferatu among them held the largest collection, and worked out an arrangement to secure most of the other cards. In doing so, he achieved one of the contest’s win conditions, having amassed over 50% of all cards, and was awarded the Herald position by Prince Monroe. As his first official act, he made the three runner-up contestants his talons, beginning his role with a display of magnanimity and grace.

THE DOOR ON THE WAY OUT

Over a decade ago, the Second Inquisition burned through the Sabbat of Atlanta, leaving only a scarce few survivors who skittered away like roaches in the dark. When Prince Monroe and the Camarilla retook the city, the decimated Sabbat resisted for years, an irritant that just never went away. Even as the Gehenna War called the Sabbat to foreign shores, the remnant insurgents of Atlanta clung to what little they had and did not heed requests to join in their sect’s cause. Pride is ever the doom of greatness.

Eventually, the excuses ran out. With the arrival of the nomadic Sundancers pack, the remnants of Atlanta's Sabbat made preparations to finally leave. Then, the Sundancers were caught by the Camarilla.

The Archbishop's own pack, Sherman's Shamblers, attacked the facility where they'd thought the Camarilla held their compatriots. One final fight, they thought, one final victory before departing, only their comrades weren't there. Instead, the Sabbat found members of the Camarilla being experimented on by the Second Inquisition. With little time and even less intel, the Sabbat resorted to one underutilized final tactic to win back their soldiers: negotiation.

For Prince Monroe this was an opportunity to prove she was not simply an upstart wartime prince, but one who could win through diplomacy. Her Sheriff assembled a team, while the Sabbat used blackmail and hostages to pressure others to recruit, hold captives, and negotiate on their behalf. The basic demand was simple: the five Camarilla hostages, including the Seneschal's childe, would be exchanged for the five members of the Sabbat pack. If this was done, then the Sabbat would leave Atlanta peacefully. Unfortunately for the Camarilla, only two of the Sundancers remained unliving.

Against the backdrop of Prince Monroe’s gala, a Ventrue approached her with news that the negotiations concluded well. In addition to the two true Sabbat, the Camarilla would give six torpid captives taken over the weekend. It was perhaps a callous act, discarding wayward souls to serve as shock troops for the Sabbat, but they had stood against the city. Now they would serve it in a capacity they’d never imagined. These would be traded for the five prisoners held by the Sabbat. The exchange would take place under the watchful eye of Tygerius in what is now the recognized neutral ground of Druid Hills.

The Ventrue presented a folded flag to the Prince, a show of good faith from the Archbishop: The Sabbat's true flag of Atlanta symbolized their formal surrender of the city and affirmation that they would vacate it within seven nights. At the Prince's question, the Ventrue quietly clarified that the flag given to her earlier by warriors claiming to have eradicated the Sabbat was not the real flag. Further clarity would come in the form of the Archbishop himself.

The Prince was no stranger to the Sabbat, having fought them in one form or another, but standing so close to their leader on Elysium gave her an opportunity to appraise the Sabbat in a new way. These Kindred were alien. It’s not that there was no trace of humanity or that the Beast ran rampant; no, behind those dark eyes was just nothing recognizable. Could such creatures ever truly be understood?

“I heard the most interesting thing while walking among your guests. A group claimed to have killed the remnants of the Sabbat and taken our flag. That nest of szlachta they claim to have exterminated was abandoned over ten years ago. I am sure they feel some sense of victory, but I’m offended on your behalf that they misrepresented themselves so. Quite the case of stolen valor, or perhaps they merely misunderstood their situation."

The Prince allowed her thumb to feel the threads of the flag of Atlanta in her hand. It was defaced by the Sabbat's jagged ankh the same way that whatever made this creature Sabbat made a mockery of the human, no, the Kindred form. This true flag was won through negotiation, not battle. Avoiding the bait, she maneuvered the conversation, “Do you know how I took Atlanta?"

No human ticks of interest clouded the Sabbat's visage, no narrowing of eyes or curling of lips, “no, how?"

“Curiosity and empathy."

“They served you well stymying our efforts to retake Atlanta after our fall. You have my respect. The city is yours,” came the reply. “Where I will miss the city, it holds no more interest for us. Atlanta, Camarilla, you are not our true enemies; rather a dress rehearsal for a greater production that unfortunately became too routine."

Leveling the first weapon in her arsenal, the Prince prepared a question. “What is it you will miss most about the city?"

Finally, a twinge of illusory emotion crossed the Sabbat's face. “The people." The monster in Kindred form handed the prince a folded piece of paper, "you may find this of use in the future. The threats you still face are many, but we shall not be counted among them.” he insisted, “for we now go to war to save you."

==== Later ====

Prince Monroe watched as the Tzimisce of Druid Hills glided into the room. Though they had proven somewhat useful during the negotiations, the creature was former Sabbat. There was little trust to be found. “I wasn't aware that agreeing to recognize your independent territory meant that you would become such a frequent guest."

“Apologies Prince Monroe, but I only seek to be a good neighbor. If I may be bold, we share a common interest." The creature took the Prince's stoic silence as a sign to continue. “Your guests have left your domain cleaner in some ways, but... they were also rather loud. How much human blood was spilled? How much attention will the Second Inquisition now give this city? The last to act thusly were the Sabbat, and we know their fate."

The Prince began drumming her fingers. She hated hearing it, but she knew it was true. “Your point

“When the Camarilla prisoners were put in my care, I discovered tracking devices that the humans had implanted within them. I removed these. I had offered to place them in the Sabbat, something to sweeten the pot to help ensure that you would accept me as a neighbor." The raised eyebrow indicated that the Prince was not fully informed of this option. “Two of your guests paid me a boon each to instead implant one of the trackers back in the Seneschal's childe; though, they did not pay me to not tell you. Consider their boons a gift from a good neighbor that does not take kindly to those who would cause friction between us or bring the Second Inquisition upon us."

The fingers stopped drumming and clenched into a fist, but a smile also began to creep across the Prince’s lips. There were advantages to diplomacy.

THE SINS OF OUR KIND

Mortal historians refer to the burning of Atlanta as the product of General Sherman’s “March to the Sea”, an advance of the Union Army which began with burning of the city during the Civil War. Over a century later, the Second Inquisition initiated a bloody campaign of its own, striking Sabbat over the East Coast in what became known as the Second Burning of Atlanta.

After the Second Burning of Atlanta, the Coalition of FIRSTLIGHT, the Entity, and BOES began to pull resources from the city to press the fight in more dangerous regions. However, there were some among them who would never forget what the blankbodies had done. The vampires had tormented them, killed their families, and slain their comrades in arms. FIRSTLIGHT believed this “Camarilla” who had taken the city could be controlled and manipulated, since they were closer to their humanity and not insane monsters like the previous occupiers. The Entity believed they all needed to be eradicated and none could be trusted.

FIRSTLIGHT started by opening dossiers on all known blanks and their associates. At the same time, they attempted to purge their own organization of moles by leaking bad intel. The Entity approved two As Sagradas hit teams to seek out and destroy the most powerful Kindred. They could kill the neonates all night, but the ancient ones would only make more. After one elder was destroyed in Savannah, an agreement was made to capture the next one for experimentation.

Learning about the dossiers, a team of local kindred snuck into a FIRSTLIGHT facility using the official credentials of a double agent. It was close, but they managed to delete the intel and escape, only losing one member of their team to torpor and capture.

After the capture of Sif (see The Wilting Lillies), the Kindred who had fought As Sagradas licked their wounds and regrouped. Knowing that they simply couldn’t fight them head on, they arranged a distraction in the form of an ambush across town and sought the help of Pastor John Chapter, the Primogen of Clan Lasombra, and one of the leaders of the Sabbat in Atlanta who had survived war with the Second Inquisition.

The Pastor preached the truth that Kindred were chosen to be His tools on Earth, and performed an Oblivion ceremony to place the power of the one true God within a volunteer. He warned that this incredible power would consume them entirely. The new coterie took their living Oblivion bomb, now screaming and in a catatonic state, to the FIRSTLIGHT supernatural prison. The battle quickly became brutal as they crashed and broke through the FIRSTLIGHT defenses, while a second team found the prisoners. When As Sagradas flooded the facility with a mysterious red gas, the coterie lost the use of their Disciplines, and it looked like they wouldn’t make it. With most of the group impaled with stakes through their hearts and their undead skin burning away from the gas, one of them managed to get the stake out of the chosen vessel of Oblivion.

Thick blackness poured from the vessel, banishing whatever was preventing the Kindred from using their blessings. The gas was consumed by the darkness along with the body of the vessel. With their powers restored, the coterie defeated As Sagradas and escaped before the facility self-destructed in a massive inferno.

Collecting themselves nearby, the group took a moment to mourn their ally who gave her unlife to save them. When the fires died out, the darkness coalesced. There she was, standing in the middle of the shattered prison, born again from darkness by the power of God.

The Second Inquisition received a terrible blow, and while many were killed in the raid, that was one FIRSTLIGHT Watchtower with one squad of As Sagradas. The Kindred of Atlanta will soon witness its true power, and learn why the Masquerade must not be broken.

FIRSTLIGHT Report on Atlanta, November 2025 Objectives Determine if new “Camarilla” Blankbodies are as much of a threat as previous insurgents. Capture and flip Blankbody assets by appealing to their “Humanity.” Utilize threats to connections to the living world to provide additional motivation Integrate As Sagradas agents into FIRSTLIGHT squads. Challenge: Entity believes that all Blanks are actually demons that must be purged. Activity Release tainted information to suspected moles. Provide unique but functional security codes to track leaks. Two separate teams were identified at the monitored location. Only one security code was received. All recordings were lost. Lost all blank prisoners. Entity recommends immediate execution in future operations. High-priority target performed a “Ritual” to create a bomb made of pure darkness. As Sagradas “Miracles” and “Red Gas” were both rendered useless. Conclusions Atlanta is a hot bed of dangerous activity. Camarilla are to be considered a major threat. Confirmation of moles in FIRSTLIGHT. Begin purge of agents. All activity at night is to cease operation immediately. Shutdown all access to facilities at sunset and authorize lethal force to automated systems against anyone attempting to enter. Determine origin of “Oblivion Bomb” and how to counter in the future before beginning Operation: Third Burning.

THE TRIAL OF GERMAINE

The Camarilla has, throughout history, generally been on the winning side of most conflicts with regards to the Anarch Movement. Not always decisively, not always by a huge margin, but generally they’ve been able to count most conflicts with the Anarchs as a win (though frequently at very high costs).

What happened in Atlanta is likely to be considered one of the greatest losses the Camarilla has ever faced in its history and it will haunt them well into the future. The yet unnamed Red List member was to be granted a trial — that much was agreed to in Chicago the year prior. Through the use of extensive boons, old favors, and the permission of Justicar Lucinde (who is not known for her mercy) the Red List member, later revealed to be Geramine, was given an impartial trial. The Banu Haqim judge Tegyrius was granted full authority to determine if Germaine would be killed, absolved and removed from the Red List, or something in-between.

The prosecution was stacked with many prominent members of society who brought the full weight of the Camarilla and Germaine’s checkered past to bear. The Anarchs had managed to present one lone witness. Many thought the trial would simply be a performative gesture, but when one of the members of the Camarilla prosecution team, a Ventrue, switched sides to support Germaine, the Society of Heralds was abuzz coast to coast at the implications.

Against all odds, and due in no small part to a member of the Camarilla defending him, the judge Tegyrius ruled in favor of the Brujah, and removed him from the Red List with the authority that had been granted to him, giving him a second lease on unlife.

What fate awaits the Ventrue who betrayed the Tower—or what Justicar Lucinde has in store for that empty spot on the Red List, however, remains to be seen—but of all involved, Victoria Ash is not likely to forget the injustice her Clan has suffered, or those who caused it.

THE WOUND BENEATH THE WORLD

After whispers of an ominous verse set the city’s unliving on edge, scraps of a discarded MARTA map found their way into the hands and pockets of Atlanta’s gathered kindred.

Two determined investigators worked the room and brokered deals to stitch the map back together and reveal an abandoned spur of track leading to an unfinished station. The pair gathered a coalition of intrigued, brave, and careful kindred and the party descended into Atlanta’s underground to uncover what was calling for them.

The hidden station was patrolled by robed figures circling a pedestal holding an ancient relic and chanting low and constant. Most of the explorers held back, while two stepped forward draped in illusion to fall in step with the cultists’ rotation.

When the two got close, the temptation of the relic proved too much to bear and one impulsive set of hands seized it. The false acolytes found themselves swept into formation as the guards marched toward a massive stone door. Panic rippled through the hidden explorers as they did not want their friends to be forced past the threshold. Shadows were crossed, bodies reshaped, and violence unleashed to halt the procession before they could vanish into the unknown.

The Malkavian’s curiosity proved to be their driving force as they pressed the relic to the sealed stone door, revealing seven medallions spiraled, each bearing the name of one of the seven heavenly virtues when viewed with unseen senses. The group was uneasy and unsure of whether they should proceed, but ultimately they decided they must prevent whatever the cultists were trying to accomplish. They knew they could not use force to move forward so together, the expedition manifested each virtue, unlocking each seal in turn as the symbols twisted to reveal their opposing sins.

As the final seal broke, the heavy door dropped, unveiling a chamber filled with the shimmer of scaled white and gold. A lone priest chanted a verse once glimpsed in the group’s prophecy, standing before an altar arranged with six primordial substances and a waiting ritual bowl.

Chaos erupted as the explorers rushed to intercept the unfolding rite. Vital components vanished into pockets and shadows, as vitae was stolen mid-gesture and the elements swept away by shadowy tendrils. Undeterred, the cultist opened his own veins and began the chant to open the Serpent’s Sanctum. A quick-thinking trickster silenced him with a command and bound him with her blood, but even bound and silenced his ritual lingered. In the tense moments that followed, an ambitious Lasombra made a single unintended utterance: Apophis’s name.

The Sanctum yawned open long enough for one to enter. Two stepped forward, but only one crossed the threshold before the stone sealed shut, locking the remainder of the party out.

Within the Sanctum, the lone Lasombra faced an aspect of the Great Corruptor and was given a choice: to chain, to sleep, or to consume. The bargain that was struck is carried now only by the one who stood before the Serpent’s gaze, and by whatever price the world will one day be asked to pay.

A SPIDER FEASTING IN THE WEB

The statuette flew from the Ventrue's hand, shattering on the ground, but he felt no different. He looked about, lost, as if expecting his deed to have been some earth shattering event, but nothing was different for the bon vivant.

For the Malkavian standing next to him, and all the Malkavians in Atlanta, the world had indeed changed. The pressure on their minds abated. The sense of wrongness was gone. In fact, for the first time in days, everything seemed right, not that any two Malkavians can ever truly agree on what right is. Despite this, a question lingered in the air.

=== Much Later ===

The young seer shuffled her tarot cards, "what was that?"

"I heard a story once, something from my great grandsire before they were Beckoned. Do you have time for a story?"

She simply gave them an impatient look, "explanation, now."

"There was a time when words were true power, writing was magic, and smithing was sorcery. In this age, the Red God, the God of the Desert and the Hunt, fell upon his sibling Malkav and rent them limb from limb. As the Red God left, Malkav's three childer gathered. These three—The Plague Bride, The Clever Prince, The Nameless One—lapped at the blood-soaked sand, consuming all the vitae of their sire and completing the esoteric ritual. Some might even say this was the first Malkavian Prank, as Malkav tricked his brother into providing the needed sacrifice. Needless to say, the result was undeniable: It created what we call the Cobweb."

The young Malkavian narrowed her eyes and shook her head slightly, silently inquiring as to the relevance of all this.

"Those three—The Plague Bride, The Clever Prince, The Nameless One—are inextricably tied to the Cobweb. They act through it, move through it, whatever the fuck they want with it for all I know. I’ve heard that unless they choose to hide their essence, when they are near, their very presence warps it. That pressure in your mind, that wrongness, that was one of them."

"But the tattoos? The dead Malkavians, my rising hunger and..."

The other simply frowned, "Perhaps an analogy of sorts. You’re young, so this might work. Remember when you were alive and you and your friends would stop at a gas station for a snack while on a road trip? You'd just casually grab a cup and fill it at the slushie machine. You probably only gave half a thought to what flavor you wanted before reaching for a bag of chips. You," They held up a single finger, "just happened to be Blue Raspberry Blast."

REBUILDING THE PYRAMID

The former Justicar unfolded the report and scanned it while the Astor waited. "Ten seems like such a small number, but when you consider the size of the gathering, it is far from insubstantial. A good distribution too. I am pleased, I would have expected more resistance, particularly from the representative of House Goratrix. This time of chaos seems to have done us well. Even the traitors and rogues have come to appreciate what was lost. No matter the bonds offered by others, they will never be the Pyramid. We will always provide a home."

"About the Code sir. All of them accept it in theory, but some expressed concerns about particulars. They seek to reword portions. I expressed interest in their progressiveness, but I hold reservations."

Karl Schrekt leaned back into the red velvet of his chairback, "House Tremere's greatest asset has ever been its adaptability. That is what allowed us to become vampires when magic was waning, to create gargoyles, and to unlock so many secrets of the blood that others were ignorant of for millennia. On the other hand, the static nature of vampires is what made them so easy to hunt. I must concede that we became calcified in some ways. There is little harm in listening, so let us see what they propose. The next gathering of this sort is in, what, half a year?"

"Yes, sir, but it is in an Anarch city."

The side of the old witch hunter's nose twitched at this revelation, "how droll.... Well, we have time to weigh the merits of attendance then. In the meantime, allow them to submit proposed revisions to the Code. It should be updated to reflect modern linguistics; though, major renovations will be discarded." He set the parchment down on the mahogany desk, "Any verbal addendums you wish to make?"

"There is some interest in recreating gargoyles; greater interest in ensuring that no one else obtains the tools to make them. Also, a Tzimisce offered all they knew of Koldunism in exchange for tutelage in Blood Sorcery."

"How cheaply and easily the fodder will trade away their history and family. Such creatures have no loyalty to anything greater than themselves and cannot be trusted in any transaction. To think we once feared their clan. Now, speaking of family, what news of my Childe?"

SANGUINE CIRCULATION

The Circulatory System is powered by investment. Its clients, employees, and associates invest in it with coin, boons, time, and effort, as their position dictates. In turn, the Circulatory System provides for them the innumerable vessels that slake their thirst and other assorted perks and priviledges. As the enterprise expands, none can rest on their laurels; from time to time, members must demonstrate the value of their investment to the shareholders. As such, the Circulatory System tasked its members to help maintain the organization's hold over Kindred society. The organization gathered together 12 0f its members to ferret out a small thorn in their side and broaden its client list. Those among them who had fallen behind on their contributions were to be held to a higher bar than the others. The next week, their results were shared during the monthly shareholder’s meeting.

“Of the twelve, scarcely a handful devoted any effort to the matter at hand. We should send the lot of them to the farm upstate." The speaker's pale hands gesticulated as if to emphasize their point.

“You take too much after your ancestor. Try not to be so dour. Our agents secured ten new clients as part of their activities. Among those, this new nightclub will be a great boon, to say nothing of this Ventrue's desire to seize praxis in Ireland. Coups are expensive, and we can easily feed both sides, locking them in stalemate while we drain their coffers." The second figure teased the first for their short sightedness.

“The information on the feeding habits of so many Ventrue will also prove useful," interjected the third member. "Redheads, homeless, drug addicts, abusers, religious individuals, home owners... I am ever amazed at how freely some among my clan share such private information. Monopolize their feedstock and squeeze their supply. They will prove good clients in the end, whether they seek to be or not. What about the one that turned their back?"

“Which one was that? Your disappointment of a childe or the one that literally threw the assignment away to chase after some mortal? Moving both into circulation would prove sufficient warning. An example should be made."

The twisting knife was met by narrowing eyes, “My childe failed his test and is now dead to me. As for the other, not yet. I prefer the carrot over the stick in this instance. If we show the others that there is a reward for good service, then they will aspire to the same in the future. If they fail again, then you or whomever can apply the stick." The Ventrue sat back, giving a small pause in the conversation before steering the topic to the real meat of the task, “What of the troublesome thorn?"

“One of those behind in their service found them. I like that one; he shows promise. As that task was a group reward, his efforts also single handedly saved face for many.”

“I might have liked more spectacle, but it is sufficient for us to spread word of their identities and place the appropriate bounties on their heads."

The Ministry elder raised their eyebrow before interjecting, “not all results must be immediate. We took our time creating the Circulatory System, we can take our time ensuring its prosperity.” The creature was annoyed at how easily even intelligent kindred could forget that they were immortal. “The Nosferatu were informed. They spread news, and many of them are excellent customers, as we welcome them to the boutique feeding experience their nature otherwise denies them. We simply recalibrate and think of this situation as a slow burn, something that will take at least six months to resolve.”

TROUBLE IN BIRMINGHAM — PART II

The nature of the demise of the Seneschal of Birmingham left many open questions. Having abruptly died after being delivered, staked, to the Haymarketers, some were left uncertain about missing clanmates, believed to be detained in his chantry.

A group came together, and used the Oblivion ceremony Summon Spirit to call forth the Seneschal from beyond. A Nosferatu had come by a set of dissection tools favored by the Seneschal, which provided a sufficient focus. Seneschal Blakely of Birmingham appears before them, irate at his demise and seeking in vain to manipulate the group with vampiric disciplines his ghostly form no longer had access to. As the ceremony’s power bound him to remain for some time, he sought to negotiate.

The group demanded to know where his Nosferatu prisoners were, seeking to compel him to answer, but the Seneschal proved too elusive. He demanded justice. His murder had slain him without so much as hearing him out, and he wished to look him in the eye. A few minutes later, Blakely had his wish. After accosting them, he turned to the rest of the group and offered them the secrets of Blood Sorcery if they enacted his vengeance. His request was met with mixed laughter; justice, it seemed, was not something that could be purchased. Blakely spent the remainder of his earthly time arguing and making threats. He taunted the Nosferatu among them, saying he could make them into Gargoyles, and insisting his clan would avenge him before fading into the beyond.

Once the Seneschal had faded away, the group decided to search his chantry in Birmingham for two missing Nosferatu accused of Sabbat collaboration. Having arrived at a large manor, they found they were not the only guests who had come calling. The Sabbat pack that had been working with the Nosferatu were as well, seeking to liberate their “prospects” from the chantry’s unjust confines. The group sought to attack the Sabbat, but were severely chastised by their pack leader for their lack of decorum. A civil conversation ensued, where the pack leader sought common ground with the group, insisting that he could not leave the Nosferatu behind. An agreement was struck that the Nosferatu should choose for themselves where to go. The pair was found staked and shackled in a makeshift laboratory, and having been liberated, members of the Camarilla and Anarchs entreated the two Nosferatu to go with them while the pack leader chuckled. The pair ultimately found the argument for the Camarilla unappealing, given their confinement. Ultimately, one decided to give the Anarch Movement a try while the other decided upon the Sabbat. As part of the agreement, all sides were permitted to depart without reprisal, and all sides did, with the pack leader thanking the other chantry guests for their civility.

A LOST LEDGER

While not nearly as tragic as the fall of Atlanta, the sudden and unfortunate demise of Atlanta’s former harpies left a cavernous void in the Camarilla’s boon trade. For decades, the four harpies had carefully overseen the prestation owed between Kindred throughout the Southeast. The loss of their records to the Sabbat’s fires meant that enough boons to mobilize a small Kindred army had effectively disappeared.

Whispers about a potentially rediscovered ledger from before the Second Burning of Atlanta drifted through the gathered court, persistent, and impossible to ignore. Some saw obtaining it as a path to greater power, while others saw it as a loaded weapon left carelessly on the floor just waiting for someone to pick it up. The book’s author, Hannah of the Tremere, was one of Atlanta’s four former harpies. She had documented every slight and service rendered in Atlanta for years. The potential contents of her records had the entire city on edge. Old, unrepaid favors threatened to matter again. Old, forgotten sins threatened with revelation.

The Seneschal moved first, quiet but urgent. Her interest was whispered to be self-preservation. She sought to bury a series of missteps and carefully concealed indiscretions from a younger time that could fracture her reputation, should the ledger fall into the wrong hands. The Sheriff sought the ledger as well, seeing it as a chance to reveal exactly what the Seneschal had hidden and a means to reset the balance of power. Lastly, the childe of Victoria Ash, sensing that the ledger might be the final, shining proof needed to claim the position of Herald, sought the ledger for himself.

In the end, a Nosferatu who was accustomed to digging where others preferred not to look found the ledger. Rather than make a solitary play, he returned to his cousins to place the choice before them. Together, they weighed the danger and the opportunity and agreed on a course of action.

They gave the ledger to the Sheriff, who acted with unsettling efficiency. Some entries were deemed harmful in the wrong way or were tied to old, quiet debts between private parties. These pages were torn out and handed over to her scurrying legion of rats to be devoured in the dark. Troubling no one ever again. However, the majority of the book remained intact, its still pages heavy with owed favours, broken promises, and debts long assumed forgotten.

At last, the ledger was placed in the hands of Atlanta’s new Herald. With it came authority, responsibility, and a reminder that the city is bound as much by memory as by ambition.

DUNGEON RUN

The Sabbat of Atlanta had many secret havens created during the war. Most were found and compromised, and either burned or left entirely unusable by even the most desperate of souls. One, however, managed to evade discovery for years after the occupation. Atlanta’s old Tremere Chantry stood the final stronghold of the Sabbat. Over the years, magical curios, documents of import, and various mundane and otherwise interesting objects were gathered and stored here, the building oddly serving the same function for the Sabbat as it did the Camarilla.

As the Sabbat were largely defeated, word had spread about this collection, and nearly every group, faction, and clan that comprises Kindred society had an interest in finding it. A coalition of Kindred consisting of veterans of the Sect War, a half dozen Clans, and leaders of all kinds, marched into the sewers. Together, they managed to find this old stronghold despite traps, deception, and monstrous, fleshcrafted guard dogs that tore and consumed flesh and blood in equal measures from the Kindred scavengers.

Despite these lingering defenses, the old Chantry was breached, and many objects were recovered therein. The reclaimed collection of documents and weapons—some of which predated the city—had something for everyone. Many of these objects would go on to find their own spotlight over the course of the weekend’s events.

CHICAGO

By day, it was known as the University of Chicago’s Harper Memorial Library.

On select evenings, and to a very limited number of attendees, it was known as The Eternal Academy, an exclusive school where Kindred can learn and debate the nuances of vampiric unlife from the Brujah Methuselah Critias. Ever since he first set foot in it, Damien, the Sheriff of Chicago, had marveled at the library’s stone-vaulted ceilings and stained glass. He had heard once it was considered for a filming location for the Harry Potter movies, but the intervention of a particular methuselah likely put a stop to that.

This night, he scarcely had the time to take in the room’s splendor as he burst through the doors. Critias never took kindly to interruptions, but Damien had important news. The young Brujah could barely contain the mix of emotions rising within himself.

Thankfully, the class was ending as he strode quickly to the front. A mixture of new embraces, Lasombra converts, and other Kindred who attended simply because they loved philosophy and debate filtered past him and exited. Those few students who may have remained to converse with the professor after class quickly changed their minds as they saw the Sheriff approaching. Moments later, Damien was alone with Critias.

“Speak,” was all Critias offered as a greeting. It seemed the ancient Brujah had noted Damien’s haste with some disapproval.

“It’s Germaine—,” he began excitedly, before he was curtly cut off.

“I told you never to mention the name of my failed childe in my presence.” The topic of Germaine, Damien’s elder broodmate, had been taboo for some time now. As far as Damien knew, the two had not spoken for centuries, shortly after Damien’s embrace.

“I take it you bear news of his trial and subsequent execution at the hands of Tegyrius of the Banu Haqim. As I’ve told you repeatedly, the Justice of the Ivory Tower is inescapable, and it was inevitable that—”.

“Of course, it’s about Germaine! The childe who you never speak of, who you abandoned. Germaine, my brother! His trial was tonight.”

“Yes, yes, I’m aware of his desperate gambit. Engineering a dialogue between the Anarchs and Camarilla, then offering himself as a bargaining chip. Posing as one of the negotiators and securing a trial as part of the conditions. I watched the whole thing unfold.” Critias seemed to be analyzing the series of moves with the cold criticism he applied to chess, his favorite pastime aside from philosophy.

“Critias, he won!” Damien could scarcely contain his emotions any longer. “Somehow, he did it. I don’t know how, but he’s free. Tegyrius acquitted him, and Lucinde pledged that the Camarilla would abide by his decision. He’s off the Red List.”

“This is… most unexpected.” Critias suddenly became distant as he replayed the events leading up to the trial in his mind. Chess was a game centered around deterministic outcomes. Perhaps the ancient Brujah viewed Kindred politics through a similar lens. “Tell me, childe, are you certain?”

“Yes, I’m certain! But where was his family while it all happened? Where was his clan? Where was his sire? It’s true what they said, isn’t it? That you turned your back on him when they took him away. Don’t you think he staged it all to happen in Chicago for a reason? You could have helped him!”

Critias remained steadfast despite his childe’s anger. “I am not wont to entertain my childer’s ploys for my attention. That includes the events that happened last year, as well as this current outburst.”

Damien shook his head. “Maybe he just wanted to talk to you, you know? Maybe he wanted to hear a few words of advice or some encouragement. You said he was worthless, but look at what he pulled off!”

“My childe,” Critias interjected, (elongating and emphasizing both words to remind Damien not only of his youth, but his subordination,) “...I have explained to you at length that….”

But Damien had had enough. He turned to leave, choosing to risk his sire’s scorn rather than endure another lecture. Critias’s voice, rapidly rising, thundered throughout the Harper Memorial Library. A few moments later, it was all that filled the chamber.

GERMANY

Archon Dante di Paulo strode solemnly into the offices of Justicar Lucinde.

He enjoyed his job most nights, but the mood had been tense this evening ever since the initial reports came from Atlanta.

“My lady, you have Lady Justicar Iadanza calling for you on the secure line. I’m told it’s about Atl—”.

“Thank you,” came a curt reply. “I know why she’s calling.”

The Archon remained as Lucinde answered the phone to an instant barrage of shrieks and profanity. Apparently, the office of the Toreador Justicar had heard the news as well.

“HE’S ACQUITTED??” Archon di Paulo scarcely had to concentrate to overhear the voice at the other end of the phone. The Toreador Justicar launched into a tirade, rapidly shifting between English, Italian, and a half dozen other languages that made it difficult to keep up.

Lucinde attempted at first to listen, but eventually interjected. “Diana, I… Diana… DIANA, you will listen to me. The noise on the other end of the phone briefly abated.

“You had every opportunity to fix this. That count of yours had been sitting on the Red List for over a century, and for what, exactly? That list is reserved for infernalists and Masquerade threats; it is not a revenge list for petty clan issues. When none of the Alastors wanted to bother with him, Clan Toreador should have taken him off ages ago. You yourself decided to leave him on even after we learned the truth about Guil, for whatever reason. Had you removed him then, you likely could have collected payment from Clan Brujah, but now they’re gone….” A streak of profanity erupted from the phone as Lucinde was once again interrupted. However, she remained in no mood to endure it.

“No, you listen to me. I collected Germaine when you couldn’t. When his Anarch supporters started tearing up the East Coast, I gave him the trial that the Camarilla promised, diffusing the inter-sect issue and placing him with the husband of your clan’s darling, Victoria Ash. If all her seductive wiles and marital leverage failed to produce a guilty verdict out of her Methuselah husband, your clan has only itself to blame.”

That rationale did not land well with Justicar Iadanza whose outrage resumed, her tone livid and accusatory. Behind Archon di Paulo, Lucinde was waving for him to leave the office, but he was already on his way out. Any good Archon knew that conversation was above his paygrade.

DUBAI

The flight home from Atlanta to Dubai had taken over sixteen hours with a refueling stop. Under most circumstances, it was a pleasant trip. Tegyrius had accumulated substantial wealth during his many lifetimes, allowing him to travel in comfort and style. However, since they left Prince Monroe’s celebration, his wife, Victoria Ash, hadn’t said a word to him the entire time.

Dealing with her angry moments was something he had thought he had grown accustomed to. Over 1,500 years her senior, he rationalized that she simply hadn’t had time to learn the patience that comes with age. Most nights, he found it endearing. Victoria’s youthful predilections infused his life with vigor, adding an element of delightful chaos that made him feel young. Or, younger, at least. He felt that he loved her, even beyond the blood bond they shared, which is why he found her silence unbearable.

When the plane finally touched down, he decided it was time for another attempt. Across from him, Victoria was still wearing the red gown she had worn during the trial, but her hair was up in a tight bun. She often gathered her hair up when she was thinking… or plotting. He suspected her travails weren’t limited solely to the outcome of the trial. Perhaps she could share what else was on her mind?

“Victoria, I—,” he began, but was cut short.

“Don’t,” came the single reply. Victoria, sitting across from him, didn’t so much as look at him. Her attention focused outside the window as they taxied to the private terminal.

Tegyrius looked to Victoria’s childe Farid sitting next to her. He quickly directed his gaze to the window as well. The young Toreador knew better than to get involved when Kindred as aged at the two of them were at odds, even more so when they were romantically involved.

All of this seemed more than a bit awkward to play out in front of their guest, one of the members of the prosecution team who Victoria had invited to join them as thanks for his efforts. While his performance during the trial had been full of passion and vigor, he had correctly read the room and kept conversations polite.

The plane arrived at the private terminal, and Tegyrius exited first, waiting at the base of the plane to offer a hand to his wife, which was waved away in silence. Behind her, Farid muttered an excuse about having pressing matters, and that he would catch up later. He waved for the prosecutor to remain with him, who seemed eager to leave before the tension boiled over. Tegyrius nodded, and went to join his wife, already in the back of the car and texting furiously on her phone. News of the verdict would certainly have spread throughout Kindred society by now. Germaine had been considered an enemy of Clan Toreador for some time, and Tegyrius’s acquittal of him was certainly a blow to the clan’s image.

If only Victoria could understand, he thought. Throughout his entire unlife, Tegyrius had studied jurisprudence. As a Vizier among the Banu Haqim, it had become his obsession. During his years, he had seen Greek Democracy in operation, the advent of Common Law, the signing of the Magna Carta, and the creation of Napoleonic Code. While he loved Victoria, dispensing justice was at the heart of who he was, not only by blood as Banu Haqim, but as a Kindred. To have put aside his principles even for the sake of his wife would have undermined every fiber of his essence.

Tegyrius’s thoughts were cut short as they arrived at the parking garage of the haven he shared with Victoria. She exited the car ahead of him and entered the private elevator first, pushing the button for the penthouse before he entered. Tegyrius had to increase his pace to join her before the doors closed. While he found the show of pettiness on her part irksome, he interpreted it as a further sign she wasn’t yet ready to talk. Instead, he stood beside her in silence as the elevator rose to the top floor.

Having reached its destination, the doors parted to reveal Calliope, Victoria Ash’s assistant, clutching an electronic tablet and waiting for them. “Everything you’ve asked for has been arranged, Ms. Ash,” she said, following behind Victoria as she exited the elevator.

“Good,” was the reply from Victoria, who paused to hand Calliope her purse. Victoria then lifted a leg to remove one shoe, and then the other, and handed her pair of heels to her assistant. Barefoot, she resumed her pace, heading toward the haven’s bedroom.

“I need to make a call to Chicago as soon as the sun sets there. And get me Harpy B as soon as the sun is down in her city. If Diana calls, I DO NOT want to speak with her. And I don’t care if she throws a fit or sends her Archons—she’s partly to blame for all of this.”

Following slowly behind them, Tegyrius had a line of sight to Calliope’s tablet. Justicar Iadanza had already called several times. Calliope wisely did not raise the issue.

Having reached the doorway to the bedroom, Victoria paused and turned while in the process of removing an earring, causing both Calliope and Tegyrius to abruptly stop.

“And send a nice thank-you to the Limelit Circle. They’re about the only thing that went right this weekend. Until I ask for you, I am not to be disturbed.”

With that, Victoria turned and entered the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. As it swung shut, Calliope nodded to Victoria and turned to Tegyrius as the door audibly closed behind her. She waited several moments before venturing to speak.

“Sir,” she began, cautiously, “at my lady’s request, I have prepared the guest coffin.”

Tegyrius could only smile back solemnly. This, he supposed, was all a part of being married.