March 7, 1981
My name is Dante West and I was turned into a bloodsucking fiend in 1915. I am Kindred, a Setite, of the 9th Generation. I
follow the Path of the Warrior. It is a tough, brutal path. But it purifies. The body, and the Beast. Why do I tell you
this? Because you're my journal. That's why.
Jesus. Look at me. I'm talking to myself. Fuck. I'm not even talking to myself. I'm writing to myself.

June 15, 1983
Found this journal in the ruins of my little bolthole haven here in New Orleans. That shitty studio apartment over that
dive bar over on Garden. The Prince's agents burned down my haven last night. It had to be them. Only the Sheriff and my
sire knew where it was. It's by sheer luck that I stayed overnight at the temple in Shreveport yesterday and wasn't caught
in the fire. I think it's time to leave before my luck runs out.

December 24, 1984
Merry Christmas. I've been in New York for the past 8 months. It's been a blast. It's a Sabbat held city, but they
generally leave the Setites alone. I've been working as muscle for the local temple. It's a sweet gig. Get to protect the
temple and get all the whores I can eat.

February 26th, 1986
It WAS my sire that tried to burn down my haven with me inside it back in New Orleans. My broodmate, Sarah, told me that
he'd never gotten over how I chose to follow the Path of the Warrior over his fucking degenerate Path of Ecstasy. She
called my place last week and let me know. Just when I was supposed to meet that motherfucker here at the temple below the
brothel. Sarah owed me a huge favor, and she hated that fucker for making her into one of us. A hundred grand donation to
the widows and orphans of slain policemen's fund and a couple of the boys in blue staked Anwar during the day and brought
him to me. That was last night. Now I'm Dante West. I am Kindred, a Setite, of the 8th Generation.