As though reacting to some signal known only to them, the black-suited Camarilla security begin to move through the ship in a coordinated and competent pattern. All of those who have moved to areas belowdecks are politely, but very firmly, ushered back into the foggy night above. And on the decks of the ship, any who are standing on the quarterdeck are just as politely and just as firmly moved to stand upon the maindeck, the assembled kindred being herded together with no regard for their respective statuses nor their relationships, nor clans.
A heavy chair is brought out, and settled upon the quarterdeck overlooking the maindeck below. It might even be the same chair which once graced the Chinese Room in the Camarilla Court’s former Elysium. From below, three figures emerge. Two in the same black suits worn by the other members of the Prince’s security and the third… the Prince himself.