City of the Damned - New Orleans
Mekhet Priscus and Informal Seneschal
Covenant: Lancea Sanctum
Apparent Age: Early 40s
In the year 1602, the Archbishop of Valencia embarked on a personal crusade to rid “Christian Spain” of the noxious presence of non-Christians, especially those who had ruled the region for 700 years before he was even born — the Muslims. Although many wanted Arab and Muslim influence to wane now that Spain was ruled by Spaniards once again, few counseled the complete expulsion of the “Moriscoes” as did the archbishop. In making his case, he is known to have said that the Saracens “commended nothing so much as that liberty of conscience in all matters of religion, which all Mohammedans suffer their subjects to enjoy.” Although the remark is perhaps the greatest compliment that could be paid to Spain’s Muslim forebears, it was intended nonetheless as a stark disparagement.
One Spanish Saracen, a Mekhet named Al-Mohager, found the archbishop’s words striking. As a scholar in the worldfamous center of learning that was the marvelous city of Cordoba, Al-Mohager could not understand whence such hatred and intolerance could come and he found the entire affair morbidly fascinating. He’d never been a particularly religious man in life. In death, the only religion he knew was the moral code he adopted upon being brought into the fellowship of Clan Mekhet. Therefore, when the Spanish began forcing Spain’s Muslims to convert or face exile, he voluntarily sank into torpor.
A century-and-a-half later, Al-Mohager awoke to find his home a place much changed. Christian Spain had followed through on its threats, and millions of Arabs had been forcibly evicted during his long rest. Spain had grown both fat and ambitious and had made numerous enemies for herself throughout Europe and in the burgeoning New World. With Spain on the brink of war, Al-Mohager decided that it was time to pass the torch. He could no longer deal with the place his own home had become, but with so much at stake, he needed to ensure his legacy’s survival. And so he took a childe — an honorable Cordoban warrior-scholar by the name of Philip Maldonato.
One of Al-Mohager’s former allies, a Cordoban Ventrue of considerable honor and traditional ethics, was delighted to see that his colleague had finally taken a childe. Cordoba’s star was no longer the brightest in the Spanish crown, now that war was the order of the day, and many Spanish Ventrue found themselves caught up in the frenzy surrounding Spain’s world ambitions. The Ventrue asked if Philip would watch over his own childe, a military man named Vidal, in whom he had placed much of his hopes for Spain. Philip was eager to oblige, and all throughout the Seven Years War, Philip remained at Vidal’s side, eager to advise and protect.
After the war, Vidal was sent to administrate the province of Louisiana, and although his official duty had been fulfilled, Philip, who had developed a fondness for the Spaniard, decided to accompany Vidal to the New World to continue in his capacity as advisor. The Mekhet would never again leave Vidal’s side.
Philip Maldonato is a very tall fellow. His skin is dusky and smooth, with only the merest hint of the wrinkles of age around his deep-set eyes, which sparkle faintly whenever he thinks hard on something. He favors hand-tailored business suits (black and gray, mostly) when seen in public or by the Prince’s side. In private, Philip occasionally indulges the static habits of times before his Requiem, wearing anachronistic clothing and collecting fine furniture that is now considered “antique.”