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[Alex]

Current Date: February 25th, 2020 [Prelude]

Despite the horrors of the 20th century, it was a time for optimism among the human race. Tragedies and crisis bore progress in technology, in economics, and even in human rights. Human society entered the year 2000 with optimism that the post-Cold War era could yield the promised End of History - the triumph of liberal democracy, equality, and prosperity for all.

But this optimism was an aberration - the wistful byproduct of a time of plenty. For most of history, most humans looked to survive until tomorrow, not at what a distant future could hold. And nobody understands the bitter taste of dashed hopes and the drudgery of surviving night-by-night like the Kindred who walk among the living. As with humans, much has changed among Caine's childer - but in so many ways, nothing has. The Sabbat is no more, yet war still rages between the Camarilla - now against the Anarch Movement. The Anarchs have freed more Kindred than ever from the Tower's grasp, but are still plagued by the same hesitation, cooperation, and mistrust that undermined the Free State. The Masquerade has begun to fall, yet Kindred still skulk in the shadows and try to stay out of sight. Does Kindred nature forbid vampires from escaping their circumstances, shadows of the humans who fight to survive? Or is it possible to change fate? To look to a better future once more - a future the immortal Cainites may yet unlive to see.

These are the questions that weigh on the Kindred who stalk the night of New Orleans in 2070 as they stalk the night of the bloated, decadent megalopolis. Are they doomed to give ground as the Movement always has? To succumb to infighting and squabbling? Or can they seize the future that humanity couldn't?

[Alex]

Current Date: February 24th, 2071

It has been a strange several months for New Orleans. First came an act of terror unlike anything seen in years. Then came political turmoil over contracts and policing - a rare occasion where the plodding machinery of state spilled over into the headlines, mixed with political voices from a mostly-forgotten past. But the city has settled back into its normal nightly rhythm, a rhythm which is broken once a year for the biggest festival in the city. Bigger than Thanksgiving. Bigger than Christmas.

Mardi Gras.

Mardi Gras is synonymous with New Orleans, and marks a time of the year when the city is full to bursting with mortals seeking to forget their myriad troubles for a week of festivities. The parades, the drinking, and the games fill the normally-orderly streets of the French Quarter with noise and light and good times. Some workplaces shut down for up to a week, while others - bars and clubs - do double duty to satisfy people during their busiest week of the year. If nothing else, the poor who work at these establishments usually get paid for all the extra hours they have to work.

The factory workers of Eastside could never afford even a night in the French Quarter, but they find their own way to mark the week. Establishments like the popular Michel's bar and other dark, smoky clubs are packed by day laborers who spend their nights partying with good beer, decent food, and questionable surroundings.

South of the French Quarter, though, the raucous celebrations in New Orleans' Southside slums conceal a more complicated dance. Mardi Gras marks a week of truce and a prohibition on violence among the gangs of Southside. It's an opportunity to catch their breath, to negotiate with each other, and to make and break alliances and show power or allegiance for the coming year. While the "official" celebration is at the Perdition nightclub, the real moves of Mardi Gras take place far from its loud music and bright, pink lights.

For the Anarchs of New Orleans, all of these elements come together on a Mardi Gras unlike any before it. Those Kindred deployed to Houston have returned to town, and the most influential of the Anarchs have called for a summit from across the country to address an increasingly likely hot war with the Camarilla. Out of town visitors, a gathering of the proletariat of the damned, and plays and counterplays amid a virtually endless flow of fresh Blood will make this Mardi Gras one to remember for the damned of New Orleans.

[Alex]

Current Date: April 10th, 2071

Just over a month ago, the Anarchs of New Orleans made a declaration that would come to shake both the living and unliving worlds. Next year, in Houston. It was the end of the decades-long stalemate between the Anarchs of Houston and their Camarilla rivals in New Orleans, and a declaration of a new Sect War. The fighting that began with the Third Anarch Revolt never truly ended - skirmishes had continued in Boston and Montreal. But this would be the first concerted offensive, and it would begin with two attacks that would light the nights of Texas with flame and its days with soot-black smoke.

The attacks on Beaumont and Downtown shook mortal and Kindred alike, but the Anarchs may find themselves fighting a war very different from that which established the California Free State over a century ago. The remains of the Sabbat, fractious and bickering cults and militias, no longer provide a common ground between the Anarchs and the Camarilla. The sanitized rules of warfare both sides once abided by against each other are gone, unlikely to come back even if some grisly third party appeared. And there are threats beyond the damned. The existence of Vampires is no longer a secret to mortals. And there are those among them who see hazy omens of blood and fire to come.

But whether the Damned are ready for it or not, war has come to the night. And victory is far from guaranteed - both for the Camarilla of Houston and the Anarchs of New Orleans. If they cannot escape the gaze of the living, those mortals may bring ruin to them both. And the Anarchs are not the only ones among the damned preparing for a war with Houston.

[Alex]

Current Date: August 1st, 2071

The storms of the summer have struck, and the Anarchs of New Orleans have been battered by the winds and the rain. As July ends and the heat of July begins to chill into autumn, the damned of Big Easy find themselves bruised but not broken. They have suffered loss, but they have also gained new allies and warriors to their cause. Most importantly, the storm clouds departing New Orleans have drifted in the direction of Houston. The city is already flooded. The Anarch Movement laps at Houston's shores and even walks within the halls of power waiting for the chance to drown the Tower in its own hubris.

And so the stage is set for the final nights of the war between New Orleans and Houston. The Camarilla huddles for safety in their Elysia while the Anarchs wait for their chance to strike. Some threats still strike close to home and heart both. The cackling lightning of the new-Sabbat and the threat of a new age heralded by a new Regent can be heard from under the city. But at the end of the night, the battle will end as it began. The Anarchs of New Orleans will face the Camarilla of Houston. And if past predicts future, the Tower will drown under the deluge.