The news spread like wildfire through the underworld: a thirteenth seat now existed at the High Table, and it belonged to a man who obeyed no law, no code, and no threat. Whispers of Sagar's impossible power—how he had erased an Elder with a touch and conjured a seat from thin air—became legend overnight.
The Underworld's Unease
Crime lords, assassins, and Continental managers across continents scrambled to understand the new order. Some feared Sagar, seeing him as a harbinger of the end times. Others sought to curry favor, sending lavish gifts and coded invitations, hoping to win his unpredictable blessing. A few, bold or foolish, plotted against him—only to vanish or find their fortunes reversed by a twist of fate no one could explain.
The other Elders watched Sagar warily. At meetings, he lounged in his impossible chair, sometimes silent, sometimes offering cryptic advice or wild suggestions that left the council in chaos. He accepted tributes with a wink, gambled away fortunes in a single night, and threw opulent parties where mortals and monsters mingled under his watchful eye.
Sagar's Indulgence
For the first time in centuries, Sagar allowed himself to enjoy the spoils of mortal power. He acquired mansions in Paris, Venice, and London, each more extravagant than the last. He rode in carriages lined with gold, dined on delicacies from every corner of the world, and wore the finest silks and jewels. The Continental hotels became his playgrounds, their staff both terrified and fascinated by their most unpredictable guest.
He never stayed long in one place. Sagar's presence was always marked by a trail of rumors: a banker who woke up penniless but laughing, a rival syndicate that self-destructed after a single whispered conversation, a night of revelry that ended in a thunderstorm and a rain of gold coins.
Fast Forward: The Birth of New Orleans
Decades passed. Empires rose and fell, the High Table adapted to Sagar's chaos, and the world itself began to change. The age of discovery dawned, and with it, new lands and new opportunities for power.
Sagar watched as explorers and settlers carved out a city in the wilds of Louisiana—a place where cultures collided, magic simmered beneath the surface, and every vice could be indulged. He saw the potential immediately: New Orleans would be a crossroads, a haven for those who lived outside the rules of both mortal and supernatural worlds.
He invested in the city's founding, manipulating land deals and trade routes, ensuring that the Continental's influence would reach its heart. He watched as witches, vampires, and werewolves alike were drawn to its promise, each seeking a fresh start or a new empire.
By the time the first grand masquerade was held in the French Quarter, Sagar was already there—masked, smiling, and ready for the next chapter in his endless game.
The storm had found a new home, and New Orleans would never be the same.