My name is Jordan Rose, and I am from Chicago, but have recently taken residence in Buffalo. I relocated here at the request of a friend who has since moved away. I am still trying to get to know my clan here, and also to find the person who Miller (my friend) told me to find. Apparently there is some sort of civil unrest. Perhaps I can help, perhaps not, but I will try. I have heard plans to kill others of our kind and cannot approve, but I do not yet know who to trust. If you can be of any assistance to me, please do... But, on a lighter note, isn't this room pretty? I decorated it myself. It will have to do for now...
3/24/98
I have recently been informed that the person I was sent to find is dead. This was, apparently done to try to restore order to Buffalo kindred society. I still need help, though. He had a gift for me, but I know only that this gift is still around, in someone's care. If any should know of who has it, please tell me, as it is very important to me. Also, should any Tremere have news of Miller, please also tell me, as I worry about him, impetuous fool that he was.
4/28/98
Last we gathered, I was told that the gift I sought was gone. It had been destroyed upon the death of the one who held it. Oh, well. I sought to make the best of my new home. Then, when I found a large, scary person hiding in the sewers, I was questioned repeatedly. Then questions were asked about my past. I was accused of being Sabbat. Yes, I was. I am no longer. I cannot remember so much of what my early life was like, but I have been told that that memory loss could cost me my life if I cannot be reminded. I have a guardian, and I am being watched now. I write this letter to you all to say that I am NO LONGER SABBAT. I thank Mr. Machiello for allowing me the time to write this letter, and I urge all of my friends to help me next we gather. I must remember my past or prove myself. I will do whatever is necessary, even agree to be bonded to someone who can watch me. Thank you all.
Later...
In spite of all good efforts to prove her validity as Camarilla, a few in the city could not believe our beloved Jordan. Without notice to any of her defenders, she was staked and killed. Dear Jordan, we will miss you....
© 1997 ravensong62@hotmail.com
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