Fellow Kindred of Savannah,
Tonight, I speak to you not as a Primogen, nor as a soldier, nor as a priest—but as your Prince. The choice was not easy. The race for this Praxis was hard-fought, and I respect the passion and conviction of every Kindred who cast their support, regardless of where it landed. In particular, I wish to acknowledge Olivia Moreau, whose vision for a brighter, more modern Savannah inspired many of you. The closeness of this outcome is not a sign of division, but of strength—of the diversity of thought and drive within our Court. It is a reminder that leadership must not rule over the city, but in service to it.
Because so many of you rallied behind Olivia’s vision, I intend to listen—not just out of obligation, but because wisdom does not belong to one faction alone. I will review her proposed policies and speak with her directly about the values she champions. If there are pieces of her platform that align with the city’s long-term stability and security, they will not be discarded. This is not a time for stubborn pride; it is a time for unity. We must look not at who proposed an idea, but whether the idea will serve Savannah. I extend to Olivia an invitation to meet—formally or informally—as we shape the nights ahead together.
Savannah stands on the edge of both danger and opportunity. My vision for our city is built on a foundation of order, preparation, and earned trust. The old hierarchies that valued age above all else no longer suffice. I will elevate those who demonstrate merit, discipline, and devotion—whether neonate or elder, Mekhet or Ventrue, Sanctified or Unbound. Our enemies are not one another. They are the Brood in the dark, the disloyal hearts who undermine from within, and the chaos that follows when leadership falters. We will meet those threats with vigilance and strength.
To that end, I will soon convene the Council of Insight—an advisory body composed of representatives from each Clan. Their task will be to watch the edges of our world, to track patterns, and to bring knowledge to the throne before blood is ever spilled. This Council is not a rubber stamp; it is a safeguard. A Prince who does not listen is not a Prince who lasts. In the nights ahead, I will issue the structure and appointments for this Council, and I invite the Clans to begin considering who among them sees beyond the surface—who listens as much as they speak.
Protection is not a passive act—it is swift, decisive, and sometimes ruthless. Our Sheriff and their Deputies are not bureaucrats. They are our first line of defense against the Brood and any force that threatens Savannah’s peace. In times of war, we do not bind the hands of our soldiers; we sharpen their blades and trust their aim. So too must we empower those charged with keeping our city secure. In the nights ahead, they will be granted greater latitude to act without delay, to make judgment calls on the ground without awaiting endless permissions. This is not recklessness—it is realism. A system that demands every action be signed in triplicate will collapse under the weight of its own caution. Savannah will be safe because we will make it so, by giving those who defend it the freedom to act as necessity demands.
This is not just a transition of power. It is a turning of the tide. We are no longer reacting to collapse—we are rebuilding. And in rebuilding, we will not simply survive. We will win. Against the Brood, against the saboteurs, against the fear that creeps in when silence falls too long. This is our city, and under my rule, we will guard it like the ancient fortress it is—brick by brick, shadow by shadow.