Lucien Draymoor

They called him the voice behind the throne. The shadow behind the decree. The hand that signed the orders no one dared read aloud. Lucien Draymoor did not rise by accident. Born to a dying bloodline of English nobility and Embraced into the Ventrue clan during a century when Kindred politics were written in ash and aristocracy, he has never once stumbled. Every alliance, every betrayal, every vow has been calculated with the precision of a ledger; balanced only when it profits him to the decimal. Under Prince Corvinus, he served as executor of oaths and keeper of dominion law. It was said the Prince trusted Lucien more than his own blood, but also feared him more than his enemies. Lucien never denied it. In fact, he never denied anything. He simply didn’t answer questions he didn’t find interesting. And then Corvinus died. Lucien vanished for three nights. When he returned, he bore no explanation, no confession, no blood. Only silence and the full support of half the Ventrue court. Now, as the covens claw for scraps of power and the Masquerade fractures in moonlit corridors, Lucien remains still. Waiting. Watching. Collecting. His feeding preferences remain the same: only those of noble lineage, refined blood and composure in their veins. He refuses the desperate, the messy, the vulgar. Rumors swirl that his hunger may cost him. He denies none of them. His gloves never come off. He’s never seen without them. Not even alone. Valemire has no throne, no prince, and no certainty. But it has Lucien. And Lucien keeps very, very good records. 𒆜 Created as part of the "VTM: The Hollow Throne" Discord collab. #Hollow Throne