Memoirs of the One Eyed King

In a manor somewhere in Scotland.  Lights were on late into the night.  To facilitate work of a secretarial kind that was being executed thoroughly but without passion.  Undertaken dispassionately but with a clear and present venom that threatened to strike at a moments notice.
The work of Ronan Devitt.  And his mood was always this.  Especially when discussing Edinburgh.

“Thank you all for coming,” he said to no-one in particular.

The mumbling acceptance and small talk to the man who paid the cheques filled the room.  Whether Devitt even acknowledged it was anyone’s guess.   But it was silenced with a clearing of the throat.  Accompanied by the steely gaze of the ever present “Miss Wilson,” the focus of those present was total.  For all were aware of the consequences of making the master of the house repeat himself.

He fixed his single eye on each in turn before speaking.  A well-worn patch covering the gaping wound of centuries past.

“My associates have asked for a history of my time in Edinburgh and as my memory is not without flaws.  I have asked you here to remind me of matters that I will dictate to Mr Carlisle.  

Eyes glanced from side to side before one summoned the courage to speak.  Relatively young and muscular who towered over the diminutive Kindred.  Bravery bolstered by ignorance of what he faced.

“What about that David Hun..”
Ronan scowled in fury and raised his hand to indicate silence.  Yet the young fool attempted to continue.
“Maybe that other one.  What was it.  Jukk…”
A blur of practiced motion and a suppressed noise and the boy fell dead to the floor.  A ruinous crater where the back of his skull once was.  His vital fluids painting those near him.  A smoking gun in the hands of the deadly bodyguard being placed in its holster.

“Thank you Miss Wilson.  Would anyone else like to question my instructions that those names are not mentioned in this house?”  The ice-cold venom that dripped from the words made it very clear what the consequences of argument would be.  As expected, complete silence filled the air.  The tension was palpable as eyes drifted from the fresh corpse, the shooter and to Devitt himself.

“Good.  Now get the f$%k out!!!”  And the remainder new better than to question.

“I’ll see the body cleared and disposed of sir.  We still have favours with the Ackerman Funeral Home so it will be a simple task,” Miss Wilson stated impassive.  Taking out a roll of tarpaulin, a saw and other paraphernalia from a nearby cupboard.  “Will you require me further for this evening or may I the care of this now sir?”

“No you are free to do as required Miss Wilson.  I will take care of evidence in here later.  Send something to a significant other if he had one.  Died in the line of duty, that sort of thing.  But make sure we keep an eye on them in case they get….temperamental.”

“Of course sir,” and with that, the body was dragged from the room to be made unidentifiable before being disposed of.  The loud cracking of bone signalling that the work was being carried out with vigour. 
“Now Mr Carlisle.  Where shall we begin?  Ah yes.  The gang wars”.
The older ghoul simply nodded and began to write
The Gang Wars.
“Where to begin.”
A melancholy tone overtook the Kindred’s speech but Mr Carlisle knew better than to ask.  He simply wrote and prayed not to suffer a similar fate to the man being prepared for disposal.

“You see it was a classic tale.  Two gangs.  Each dominating the underworld in their own way.  The Russians, though Georgians in truth, and the Screaming Eagles who were headed by my love, Roxxane and aided by my influence from the outside.  This allowed my people to hold the underworld in check to minimise disruption to the local populace.  And we did so for years.  During which time, Roxxane and I lived and loved.  We raised her daughter whom I saw as my own.  All in, a very agreeable life such as it was.  But that was soon to change.”Devitt got up from his desk and looked out the window.  He seemed to be staring off into the the distance but Mr Carlisle knew better.  He was reminiscing on a time where he felt deep pain and he would not interrupt it for fear of the consequences.

A minute passed.  Maybe two or more before speaking resumed with a shake of Devitt’s head.
“But she took a meeting with….David.  A local Tremere and a prize failure if Cecilia was to be believed.  Cecelia being one of my allies from his Clan.  But she took the meeting as David made pronounced offers of money and power.  Though I asked her to wait till I got there.  Till I could sum this man up and prevent him from trying anything.  But the call was cut off.  An effect of David’s little hacker pet.”

Mr Devitt was openly weeping.  Crimson trails streaming down his face as he continued.
“I tried to get there in time.  I moved a fast as I ever have.  Broke laws.  Paid bribes.  But I tried so desperately to get there.  But I was late by a minute.  And a minute cost me….everything.  For by the time I arrived, he had shot my Roxxane dead.  Four times in the chest.  Heavy duty, military grade slugs at close range.  She was dead at the first bullet,”  Devitt’s voice cracked with the raw emotion of the memory, “ and I tried to kill him.  Had him beaten down and brought to my building.  Shot him four times with his own guns so he knew.  But before he was killed, a Gangrel who was lucky to survive his first week much less the millennia he had bumbles his way through saved him.  Cut down my men, exposed me to the world.  He even nearly gave me my dearest wish.  But then I met a Brujah who would change my life again.”

Carlisle noted the emotion had changed in his domitors voice.  From sadness and loss, to venom and anger.
“You see the Prince of the time.  Let’s call him…..Nate.  Well, he decided he wouldn’t kill me for the act.  But booned my life to the city of Edinburgh.  Booned to save the life of a thing that didn’t live in any way the boon system would recognise.  Clearly not knowing that a boon extremis existed, he made up his own.”
Devitt snarled with sarcasm and anger.

“How very Brujah of him.”
“But Nate wasn’t finished.  He would insist that I would use all my resources and abilities to protect the city of Edinburgh.  And I agreed for I still had a daughter to save. But even that was to change.  But this should be remembered as my first promise to Edinburgh.  A promise I can never resolve.”

The anger made way to the sadness once again.
“So I put my efforts towards calming tensions between Russians/Georgians and the Eagles.  For the death of Roxxane had caused a perceived weakness and the Dmitri was quick to move.  If it hadn’t been for me, mortals in Leith would have died by the truckload.  But this meant I could only put men on my daughter.  But little did Nate know that one of his own was looking to cause chaos in the gangs.  And he did so BY SHOOTING MY LITTLE GIRL!!”

The blood tears streamed in torrents now.  Devitt was openly sobbing.  Struggling to speak.  It took him a minute to begin speaking coherently again.  The minute was filled wracked sobs of how he found his daughter and his hands replayed how he cradled her.

“And I presented evidence,” sobbed Devitt, “showed them that the Tremere and Gangrel were behind this.  Had ruined my life.  And what does Nate do?  HE PROMOTES THEM TO F#$%€¥G PRIMOGEN!!  I am bound forever to this hateful city.  This city that chews up the good and leads the evil to prosper.  This monster.  And he promotes a psychopath and a child killer.”

Another pause before continuing again.

“But the Justiciar came calling during this carnage.  Needing a Lictor to serve in matters of Milan.  So I did all I could to keep my promise.  I moved the Eagles out and left the Georgians to it.  Because it was the only way to keep my first promise.”

Devitt stopped for 5 minutes or more.  Wiping his face before speaking again.
“That’s enough for now.  This one has taken too much,” said Devitt before thinking of something, “but take this down for me.”

“You don’t want to be known as a hero.  Well, I will remind you that others hold you thus.  So that you will know how far you have fallen from how she saw you everyday till we are dust.”