The Preamble

We didn’t know that Katrina was our last warning. We all thought, just like the kine, that it was a natural disaster. A disaster that leveled the city and in the wake of this chaos the Kindred gorged on the blood of the newly fallen and disenfranchised.


We learned nothing. The lesson fell on the deaf ears in our community and we rejoiced in the rubble of our home. It gave many of us the positions we came to enjoy. When the kine face such devastation, the wolves feast. This was no different. The Others watched this response and took their time. They waited until we thought we were at our strongest.


Then we were brought low. They started with the Nosferatu and Mehket clans. Both prized for their stealth, insight, and cunning. Few from these Clans survived.
They next targeted the Ventrue. The leadership that had carried the Kindred for over a millenia.
They slaughtered all of the Gangrel, who had always been our eyes in the sky, and our claws and teeth on the ground. Last but not least, they came for the Daeva who had been the patrons of the arts and pillars of the community in both the Kine institutions as well as Kindred.


They made sure they drove their point home this time. They sent those that were deemed fit to survive mason jars with little black bows and names etched upon them. It contained the ashes of our families. They now line the walls of Elysium. A reminder of the price of survival.