I - de Souza's Ashes

It's been a while since one of the Vampires died. They have a nasty habit of staying around for a while, even without blood on a daily basis. But Antonio de Sousa's nights of cheating the grave have come to an end; by all accounts of people close to him, his partionally carbonised corpse was found sitting in his extensive, secluded garden, apparently just waiting for the dawn to take him. A note was found, forensics and psychometry were performed, and all signs have indeed pointed to nothing aside from an old man who wanted to end it on his own terms.

And de Sousa was old. He was old when he emigrated from Lisbon back when Portugal had it's own empire, finding his way north to the newly formed United States after Brazil gained independence. A truly ancient member of his kind, he was deeply connected to all of San Francisco's elite movers and shakers in some fashion. Even though he stayed out of most city matters since the end of the Cold War, his opinion was respected, his council welcome, and apparently had no real enemies.

With no body to bury and the last thirty years of his life a quiet affair, his memorial service was a quiet affair; his three brides, the Coalition members, some close friends, and one or two of the more respectable vampires, held at midnight on a cloudy December at his mansion in Forest Hill. It appears there are details of his will to be disclosed.

The core four of the Coalition are currently having a heated discussion with Thomas Cedar, de Souza's lawyer and now the executor of his estate inside the conservatory on the matter. Before he was dragged into the shouting match, Cedar made it clear that he wishes to talk to the five of you together at some point, to go over some important matters with you, but obviously he's busy for now. And so you and the other guests, mourners and hangers on find yourselves making small talk in the garden of the late de Souza's estate; around the same swimming pool his ashes were found. The canapes are delicious and the wine is actually wine despite the stereotypes.

The conservatory's got a decent view of the garden you're currently in, and the discussion between the coalition is getting quite intense. Cedar by idle chance looks up and sees you're walking towards the entrance to the house. His expression is one that screams "I don't want to be here"

Two or three tough bodyguards are standing guard outside the doors to the conservatory, dressed in formal wear and earpieces to fit in, but obviously not the types to fit naturally within. One is scratching the back of her neck and seems more at ease in the surroundings. African American, dreadlocked, no nonsense sort. There's a StandFast Private Security Company logo pinned to her lapel, and so must be one of Alonso's team of private contractors. She's barking something into her microphone and she's got quite dangerous looking teeth. None of the bodyguards have made a move yet, but are likely to if you wander too close to the doors they're meant to be guarding.

What's the plan?

She looks up at you, looks through one of the glass doors at Cedar and sees that he's got a pleased expression, shrugs and lets you open the door. Cedar walks over to it as it opens, the arguing of the Coalition echoing from within. He looks exasperated, but at least happy to see a face that isn't shouting at him."Yves. Good to see you. Sorry this is taking so long. de Souza's passing has left them all with a lot on their plates", he reaches into his pocket and pulls out five manilla envelopes, one addressed to each of you (and Perspehone), "Look, I can't get away from them for long but de Souza left clear instructions to leave you all these letters. There's some matters about his estate to go through as well but above all else he demanded this first and foremost in his Will as a priority and..."

A glass breaks behind him. Louder shouting and snarling.

"I'm sorry. I need to go deal with this.". He stuffs the envelopes into Yves hands and goes back to try and break up the fighting

Sure, you can get a look at the scene quickly. Everything is still nicely organised in the room aside from two chairs thrown backwards in anger and the remnants of a crystal tumbler and the whisky it contained sliding down the side of a wall.

Carmen's the one who's thrown the glass. She's snarling at Sheila who is staring daggers back at her. The wolf and the vamp are yelling at each other about a recent security contract, totally unrelated to what's going on right now. Trish looks on with the mild "disappointed in you" look that only a teacher or an expert mage can give, while Jerome has taken it upon himself to play peacemaker between the two.
Neither of those two are firing right now; the glass is comparatively worthless compared to what's being discussed as parts of the will and the entire thing is a show of bluster between the parties involved; veiled threats that are boiling over a little, unlikely to come to actual blows. But with so much political power in one place your "serve the powerful" one is starting to flinch the longer you're here.
You're pretty sure you catch her checking you out as you go past her.