The City of Storms
New Orleans, 18th century. The city was young, wild, and already infamous—a place of haunted swamps, deadly fevers, and whispered curses15. Pirates, planters, slaves, and soldiers mingled in the muddy streets, their fates tangled in a web of ambition and desperation. Voodoo rituals echoed through the night, and the French Quarter pulsed with secrets both mortal and supernatural26.
Sagar thrived in this chaos. He saw the city's potential as a crossroads: a haven for outcasts, a playground for power, and a stage for the world's most dangerous games. With the wealth and connections he'd amassed from the High Table, he bought land, funded taverns and brothels, and quietly backed both mortal and magical enterprises. His influence seeped into every level of the city—from the smugglers along the river to the Voodoo queens who ruled the spirit world26.
He cultivated relationships with the city's earliest power brokers: pirates like Jean Lafitte, Creole aristocrats, and the first Voodoo priestesses. Sagar's parties became legendary, drawing the curious and the powerful alike. He offered protection to those who amused him, and ruin to those who crossed him. The supernatural community—witches, fledgling vampires, and shapeshifters—soon learned that a favor from Sagar could change their fortunes overnight.
The Supernatural Order
As the city grew, so did its supernatural population. Sagar watched as rivalries flared between witches and vampires, as Voodoo magic blended with European sorcery, and as rumors of immortals spread through the French Quarter35. He never took a side for long—instead, he played mediator, saboteur, or patron as whim dictated. His only loyalty was to chaos and his own amusement.
When conflicts threatened to spiral out of control, Sagar would call secret gatherings in candlelit back rooms or beneath the moss-draped oaks. There, he'd broker truces, spark new alliances, or simply watch the chaos unfold. Some whispered that even the spirits of the city deferred to him, sensing a power that could not be bound by any tradition.
The Mikaelsons Arrive
It was inevitable that the city's reputation would draw the world's most infamous immortals. When the Mikaelson family arrived—seeking a new kingdom, a place to rule without fear of discovery—Sagar felt the shift in the air. He watched from the shadows as Elijah, Klaus, and Rebekah surveyed New Orleans, their eyes alight with ambition and the hunger for legacy.
Intent on making a statement, the Mikaelsons wasted no time. Within days, they secured a grand estate in the heart of the French Quarter, its wrought-iron balconies and flickering lanterns promising both elegance and danger. To announce their arrival—and their intentions—they planned a lavish party, the likes of which the city had never seen.
Invitations, each sealed with the Mikaelson crest, were delivered to every notable figure in New Orleans: mortal aristocrats, cunning witches, ambitious vampires, Voodoo priestesses, and even the shadowy figures who ruled the city's criminal underworld. The message was clear: the Mikaelsons were not just passing through—they were here to reign.
Rumors swirled through the city in the days leading up to the event. Some whispered of the Mikaelsons' legendary power, others of the mysterious guests who might attend. Many wondered if the party would be a celebration or a warning.
Sagar, ever the connoisseur of chaos and spectacle, received his invitation with a sly smile. He read the elegant script, already imagining the games he might play among the city's new rulers. For a man who thrived on unpredictability, nothing was more tempting than a gathering of legends—especially when masks were involved.
As the night of the party approached, anticipation crackled in the humid air. The stage was set for alliances, rivalries, and secrets to be revealed. And somewhere in the city, Sagar prepared his own mask, ready to step into the light and dance with destiny once more.