A Secret Letter from Reeve Blake of Leeds to his sire Don Alonzo De Vargas, Duke of Denver
>> Hand printed via the discipline technique Shadow Script in crisp Gothic lettering, but in modern European Spanish. <<
- June 10th, 2042 -- Leeds, Yorkshire, England.
Greetings and felicitations to you my sire.
I hope this letter finds you and my siblings still blessed with fortune.
So much has happened since we last spoke, for ten years can be a long time to a childe.
As you may recall from the time of my departure that I planned to travel generally east before leaving the New World. Curiosity got the better of me and the journey from Denver to Chicago was relatively uneventful.
A the time of my arrival in Chicago, it was not yet a League of the Night affiliated city and I found those willing among its court to show me the sights and feat me. But, you were right, the powerful elders of Chicago were bent on inculcating me into their political plans and I was forced to cut short my visit there. Rather than risk exposure to the Canadian Sabbat, I chose to fly from Chicago's O'Hare International Airport to Montréal–Pierre Elliott Trudeau International Airport, despite the risks of flying and the security surrounding airports, I was able to avoid notice and met with the new prince of Montreal. François Dumas of Clan Toreador was initially and naturally suspicious of my linage, but after the presentation of letters of introduction and my resume, he seemed quite willing to host me for a couple of weeks. I must say that Montreal is a beautiful city that I could have loved residing within under different circumstances.
After thoroughly satisfying my curiosity about the "City of Black Miracles", I regretfully took my leave and departed the city by ship down the Saint Lawrence Seaway. It is half a night's journey from Montreal to Quebec by river. But, I arrived at the port of Quebec with hours to spare and was greeted by our favorite deceiver; she sends her regards to you, my lord. She was quite helpful in finding me lodging for the day and in introducing me to the new prince of Quebec City, Qadir Al - Asmai is also a member of the Clan of the Rose. About the turn of the Twenty-first century, I had cause to meet this Toreador when he was still the sheriff of New York during the Camarilla resurgence and served under him briefly, but in our short time working together, I found the man extremely competent. He was quite welcoming and he introduced me to several of the city's inhabitants. It was then that I discovered that more than one of my old friends had made the transition to this life and happened to be living in Quebec City. The city of Quebec is really quite beautiful, in the way that small national capitals can be, but of all the places in the New World that I have stayed, it has the most European character. But, despite this, I completed my business in record time and set off across the Atlantic aboard one of those ultra-modern cruise ships that are like small floating cities.
The journey across the Atlantic was, more or less, uneventful; a circumstance I could use more of in my life. When I returned to London, I found that the knighthood was being marginalized and as in Chicago, quickly becoming pawns of the elders of London. One of our number, a young blue-blood tried to rally my English friends around the idea of gaining a foothold in London. But it was clear from the start that while he was well meaning, he wasn't prepared to lead us and even if he were, he wasn't skilled enough to guide us through the political rapids of London's night society. Ultimately, I put forward the idea of chasing our enemies to the north and finishing what we started and if successful, settling the bulk of our group there. While the idea was better received than I would have thought, it was more a matter of camaraderie than any true interest in settling in northern England. While I would very much like to discuss the highlights of that struggle, I will fore-go that as it would require many more letters to describe in the detail it deserves and offer you the promise that I will eventually detail those events.
By the summer of 2032, the new Baron of Yorkshire had named me prince, reeve here in Avalon, of Kingston upon Hull. It is a small city of a few hundred thousand souls, which previous to the latest English civil war, was one of the largest centers of shipping in England. As you can imagine, the war was not kind to Kingston upon Hull and I endeavored to restore it to its former glory while organizing the affairs of those like us. I found a Scotsman willing to invest and between us, we were reviving the financial life of the city. I brought in a member of the artisans to act as keeper and generously partitioned out domain to the loyal few. In truth, everything was going quite smoothly
Then, a few weeks ago, my liege was assaulted by a para-military group with ambitions of hunting those akin to us. Unfortunately for everyone involved, they attacked my liege first and his retaliatory strike cost them everything. No doubt the one who sent them had some nefarious goal, but so far, we have not been able to divine what that purpose might have been. Simultaneously, another reeve of a nearby city, Leeds, was ousted from his position by those who would call themselves his advisers and so it fell to myself and my liege to correct the matter. Of course, it was a member of the Rabble and a Blue-Blood responsible for the rebellion. There was a brief, but violent fracas which left the conspirators in torpor and I was elevated to the position of reeve of Leeds. It is this very matter that has prompted the letter you now hold, for while Leeds is not the vast metropolis that London is, it is nearly as large as Denver and statistical projections suggest it will only grow larger in the next few decades.
Sire, I more than ever before, need your advice on how to proceed. I never intended to become the prince of so large a city and this one especially, for it is a stinking cesspit of crime and villainy. However, I feel that my liege has conferred a great honor upon me and I do not wish to disappoint you or him. While I hope to eventually retire to the position of primogen, I feel I must first prove myself a capable ruler before finding a viable replacement. To that end, I would ask for whatever advise you might deign to offer me, that might aid me in this situation.
As ever, your loyal progeny and humble servant.
-- Lord Blake, Reeve of Leeds
