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Oliver Knight
Lasombra
Camarilla
9th
Auroral Shield
"Problem Solver"
Once a prominent figure in the DC kindred community. Now after resourceful display of skill to “fix” particularly troublesome problems in San Antonio, Doña Vera has “invited” him to remain within the domain. His time now divided between two homes.
Journal Entry — November 5, 2023 San Antonio... The heat, the dust, the shadows that stretch longer than they should. I came here thinking it would be just another job, another favor for another Prince. But then again, nothing’s ever that simple when Vera Velasquez is involved. The problem she handed me was a mortal one. A messy, unpredictable thread in the tapestry she’s so carefully woven here. Someone had stumbled onto one of us feeding—right in her domain. And when her people tried to wipe the memory clean, it didn’t work. Dominate, forgetful mind, none of it took. The mortal just shrugged off our tricks like they were nothing. Vera called me in, her eyes glittering with that cold, calculating look she wears so well. “Three hours, Oliver,” she said, her voice like silk over steel. “Three hours to make this disappear. Quietly.” Three hours to fix it, or I’d be stuck here with a mortal liability she couldn’t afford. So I dug in—interviewed the mortal, scoured the scene, but came up empty. No hidden wards, no mystic bloodline. Just an ordinary human who, somehow, was immune to all our tricks. With the clock ticking, I turned to mortal solutions. I had a plan—a risky, clever one. Use some mind-altering drugs to erase a few hours from their life, stage a scene to make it look like a bad drug trip gone wrong. Have them wake up in an ambulance, dazed and confused, none the wiser. It would have worked. But Vera shut it down. But when I laid it out for her, Vera didn’t even blink. “No,” she said, her tone as final as a guillotine’s drop. “No drugs.” “Listen, it’s a quick fix,” I argued. “They won’t even remember their own name, let alone what they saw. A little haze, a little misdirection—” She cut me off with a sharp gesture, her eyes narrowing. “I said no. Drugs are sloppy. They raise questions. We are not the Sabbat, indulging in crude theatrics. You will find another way.” “Then what do you suggest, Vera?” I shot back, a touch more sharply than I should have. “I’m working with limited options here, and time isn’t on our side.” She gave me that tight, practiced smile of hers, the one that never reached her eyes. “That’s why I asked you to handle it, Oliver. If it were simple, I wouldn’t need you. Be creative. But no drugs, no loose ends. This is my domain, and I won’t risk even a whisper that things are out of control.” And that was that. The clock kept ticking, and she turned her back, leaving me to figure out how to clean up her mess without breaking her precious rules. So, left with no other options, I did what I’d sworn I’d never do again. I ghouled the woman. A mother, with a young daughter who’s always hovering on the edge of her life. The desperation in her eyes made it easy—she was practically begging for someone to take the reins and save them both from death. The blood took root faster than I expected, the hunger and the power lighting her up like a candle in the dark. Now she’s mine, whether she realizes it or not. Eager to please, hungry to learn. Tori was with me in San Antonio when it all went down, her presence like a thunderstorm on the horizon—chaos bottled up, ready to break. This city fits her in ways I didn’t expect. The heat, the noise, the constant churn of tension—it all feeds that fire in her veins. Together, we’re playing a dangerous game, splitting our time between here and D.C., while Ada and Sigmund hold the line back home. But distance doesn’t ease the strain. If anything, it pulls the tension tighter, stretching it to the breaking point. Ada feels it—I can sense her unease, even from miles away. But for now, this separation is what we need. It’s easier like this... or at least, that’s what I keep telling myself. And then there’s the Auroral Shield—our noble attempt at pretending we’re more than just monsters playing dress-up. Guardians of the Masquerade, protectors against the madness of magic. I suppose it makes sense on paper, joining forces with them. After all, Vera’s city is a crucible of secrets, and she sees the value in the Shield’s mission to keep dangerous artifacts from falling into the wrong hands. Tori and I pretend to play the part of guardians, but really, it’s just another excuse to keep our own demons at bay. San Antonio wasn’t supposed to be a cage, but here I am, caught in Vera’s web. She’s clever, and she’s got me exactly where she wants me. But that doesn’t mean I’m not planning my next move. I train my new ghoul, sharpening her into a tool I can use when the time comes. Meanwhile, her daughter remains blissfully unaware of the darkness that’s swallowed her mother whole. I smile at Vera, pretend we’re on the same side, but I know better. Freedom's just another illusion in this city of shadows and secrets. For now, I keep the mask on, pretending that everything is under control. But when the time comes, I’ll be ready to break free. Because if there’s one thing Vera taught me, it’s that survival means always being ready to strike first. God help me... I can live with it. Oliver
Theo, I trust this missive finds you in good spirits, or at the very least, with your resolve as unyielding as ever. I take no small pleasure in informing you that our plans are already well underway. The transports and guides are in position, prepared to discreetly shepherd any displaced Anarchs to safety. I have instructed my contacts to remain vigilant, keeping a watchful eye for any potential infiltrators or saboteurs who might seek to derail our efforts. This is, after all, a delicate operation—one that requires precision, and, should it come to that, a willingness to be ruthless. I understand the cost, Theo. I offered my hand freely, knowing full well the toll this will exact on my resources. But like yourself, I am a man bound by my word—a quaint concept in our world, I know. However, I would be remiss not to remind you that loyalty is a currency that demands reciprocation. If the time comes when I find myself in need, when the shadows draw close and the blade is at my throat, I will expect that same loyalty to be extended in kind. You’ve seen the tapes. You know the risks inherent in this endeavor. There is no delusion here, no naïveté to soften the reality: it will be messy, bloody, and unforgiving. But I must ask, are you truly prepared for that? To do whatever it takes to safeguard those who simply seek another path, a different way? For you see, despite your disdain for the Camarilla, not all who dwell within its ranks are your enemies. There are allies to be found, if one knows where to look. Take, for example, Prince Vera of San Antonio—a rarity among her kind. She is the only Camarilla Prince I have ever come to respect, even to like. While others turned a blind eye or, worse, sanctioned atrocities against Anarchs in their domains, Vera stood resolute, refusing to indulge in such cruelty. She is, in her own way, a kindred spirit—welcoming Anarchs, Independents, and Camarilla alike into her domain. The Camarilla, as I’ve said to you before in private, is but a tool—a weapon waiting to be wielded. And truly, what better weapon to turn against your enemies than their own apparatus of control? Surely, Vera cannot be the only Prince with the wisdom to see the value in cooperation, rather than blind persecution. You and the Triumvirate cannot shoulder this burden alone, nor should you. This is why, despite your skepticism, you continued to entertain my proposal. Because you recognized what I was capable of—doing what you, bound by your position, could not. The Anarchs will be delivered safely to the Free States, where they can help shape a future unfettered by the past. And you, Theo, will have the opportunity to mold and cultivate that future into something more. If the beast within gnaws at your conscience over aligning with someone like me, or, dare I say, considering an alliance with a Camarilla Prince, soothe it with this knowledge: you might very well save your entire movement. Perhaps even offer it a new sanctuary. For now, I shall keep an eye on everything from the outside but close by. Rest assured, I will remain vigilant, ensuring this delicate operation proceeds as planned. I look forward to hearing from you again. And should we both survive the fires that are sure to come, we may yet find ourselves aligned in ways neither of us would have anticipated. The price for that, in the end, may only be the sacrifice of a little self-respect. But isn’t that a bargain, given the potential reward? Respectfully, Oliver Knight P.S. As per our agreement in Las Vegas, send me the details on the four “packages” you wish relocated. I will see to it they reach their destinations, unscathed and unseen.
Doña Vera, I trust this letter reaches you amidst a rare moment of tranquility, though I imagine such moments are fleeting given the demands of your position. I write to you now with a matter that, I believe, may be of some interest to you, should you wish to seize an opportunity that few would have the foresight or, dare I say, the courage to consider. As you are likely aware, recent events in Chicago have granted the Anarch Movement control over the city of Las Vegas, marking a significant shift in the balance of power. In a move both shrewd and unprecedented, the Justicar Lucinde ceded this territory in exchange for the capture of one of her most wanted, the infamous Brujah diplomat Germaine. In doing so, she has effectively handed the Movement a blank slate—a city now free of Camarilla oversight, ripe for reinvention. The Movement’s response has been surprisingly cohesive. Rather than devolve into the chaos one might expect, they have unified under a triumvirate of leaders, each tasked with overseeing different facets of the city. Jaromír Černý, a Tzimisce with a talent for technology and subterfuge, now oversees Kindred affairs. Elizabeth Dimitrios of the Ministry, a reformer with a keen insight into mortal matters, is responsible for handling the kine. And lastly, Theo Bell—whom you are no doubt familiar with by reputation—has taken the mantle of external affairs. His focus, as always, is on fortifying the Movement against threats both within and without. This development presents a unique, if precarious, opportunity. For the first time, the Anarchs have a chance to prove they can govern something greater than a collection of scattered territories. And they know full well that if they fail, it will only validate the Camarilla’s position on their inability to maintain order. Yet, if they succeed, it could inspire others to seek the same path. Now, you and I both understand the delicate dance that is politics. The Anarchs are, by nature, suspicious of outsiders, particularly those who wear the mantle of the Camarilla. However, this is precisely why I write to you. There are moments when extending a hand, cautiously but firmly, may yield unexpected benefits. The leaders in Las Vegas are fresh to their roles, eager to prove their worth, and perhaps open to discussions that, under normal circumstances, would be unthinkable. I would not presume to advise you beyond what is prudent, nor would I expect you to act upon mere speculation. However, sending out feelers—discreet, of course—may not be entirely unwise. A cautious approach, a whisper here, a word there, may uncover whether these new leaders are amenable to cooperation, or at the very least, a non-hostile understanding. After all, there are always those within the Movement who see the value in allies, even temporary ones. That said, it is ultimately your decision to make. I merely offer this as a possibility, one that could expand your influence beyond the borders of San Antonio without sacrificing the integrity of your domain. Should you choose to explore this path, I will keep a close watch on the unfolding situation and remain available to assist in whatever way you deem appropriate. I look forward to hearing your thoughts, should you wish to discuss this matter further. Until then, rest assured that I will continue to observe from a distance, ensuring that your interests are protected. Respectfully, Oliver Knight
