Hercule "Monty" Lestrange

The Unveiler of New Orleans

“Without seeking, truth cannot be known at all. It can neither be declared from pulpits, nor set down in articles, nor in any wise prepared and sold in packages ready for use. Truth must be ground for every man by itself out of it such, with such help as he can get, indeed, but not without stern labor of his own.”
John Ruskin




Dark hair, dark eyes, pale skin. Heavy bags under his eyes. Monty looks like a man who’s been through several lifetimes of long nights and hard times. He seems like he’s not slept in years. Ancient beyond the years that have transpired since his Embrace, it’s not hard to imagine that if torpor came upon him, he might not come back up. But there is a certain dogged determination behind the mask. A will incomprehensible. To never stop making it right.


Black suits, from a year long gone by. Hats from a different age. A pencil thin mustache, and a weary look of utmost seriousness. Often seen with red, hand-rolled cigarettes that he never actually smokes.

Demographical Profile

Name: Hercule Bernard Lestrange
Aliases: Monty, Monty Lestrange
Gender: Male
Race: Caucasian
Nationality: French
Ethnicity: French
Date of Birth: February 24th, 1833 (Bretagne, France)
Date of Embrace: October 11th, 1888 (Louisiana, United States)
Apparent Age: Mid-50s
Real Age: Approx. 150
Height: 5’9"
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Complexion: Pale



Monty doesn’t share where he was before his Embrace, but the look is there on his face, in the deep lines unbecoming of a man who should be so young.

It took years, ages for the story to spread. The Kindred are understandably nervous about tight-lipped newcomers claiming that they are interested in only the truth. But he would not let it go. A pretty-faced girl, scant four years Embraced into Clan Gangrel. A Vodouisant named Pearlina Shaw. Few Kindred remember it now—but Monty would tell you the whole thing was rotten.

Nobody wanted to touch it. A little thing like that, nobody really could be moved to care. And the law of the land didn’t help none. But Monty wouldn’t let it go. No chance. The whole thing was rotten. Killed during Mardi Gras, even. Nobody cared. Just another lost among the throng.

Two months to the day night her final death, Monty approached the then-sheriff, Robert Bastien. Monty told the Ventrue plainly to his face that a visiting Sanctified of some repute named Duncan Priory was responsible for the Gangrel’s destruction.

This was not, in the common parlance, taken very well by the sheriff, or Duncan Priory—who was standing directly beside the sheriff at the time. But Monty would not stop. No matter how many times the sheriff and Priory punished him for leveling such accusations against his elder. Even when they removed his tongue, he wrote the accusation down.

They cut off his fingers. He wrote it in his blood. The sheriff looked to Priory, and saw in him the fear of the guilty. And that was all that was needed. Two weeks later, Duncan Priory was brought before the view of the whole all-night society, and Monty arrived to explain the whole sordid affair, healthy and pristine.

Priory had been infatuated with Shaw. The Sanctified might have still looked the other way if they had not been perverts—subjects to a mutual blood bond. Shaw, in her youthful naiveté, pushed Priory to stay in New Orleans. To make their relationship public. But she was a Vodouisant, he was Sanctified, anointed at that, and… well, New Orleans is not Verona. It did not end with the tragedy of two lovers greeting the dawn, merely her final death, disguised as an attack by the Sabbat.

Priory tried to deny it, and lost his tongue like he’d pulled out Monty’s. But the truth was written all over his face. He died mewling like a child for his life.

In the years hence, the Malkavian who calls himself Monty for no discernible reason, has become an authority on the Truth. The All-Night Society looks upon him with equal measures of respect and distrust, never knowing what crime will next draw the eye of the Unveiler of New Orleans and his endless determination.



Monty has hunting rights in Faubourg Marigny, less out of preference for the environs than the fact that Sundown is politically independent. No one has ever seen the visibly 50-something Kindred cruising clubs for sex—it’s anyone’s guess how he feeds.

Monty also holds domain over the offices of Sleepless Investigations in the CBD. There’s a story about how he came by it: shortly after his Embrace by Uriah Travers, he approached Philip Maldonato with the offer to open a private investigations office. His services, which he assured would be impeccable, would be freely available to all. He would owe no corvée, hold no hunting rights outside of his office’s walls, and solve one case for the seneschal free of charge. Maldonato counter-offered with three cases, which Monty accepted. It’s unknown how many of these cases the seneschal has since called in.

Regardless, the results have worked out for them both. Monty avoided perpetual entanglement with the prince’s faction, while Maldonato gained three favors at the cost of a single building. With the seneschal’s permission, Monty has moved Sleepless’ offices several times over the years. They’re currently located on the twelfth floor of Energy Centre.


Monty poses as Marcus Graves, one of the private detectives who works for Sleepless Investigations. Some licks are surprised that he poses as an employee rather than the owner. In truth, Monty has little interest in the managerial aspects of running a business, and leaves that to a ghoul. He mainly values Sleepless for the added resources it lets him draw upon. One of those is its reputation—the firm has been around since the late 1800s and is considered New Orleans’ premier PI agency. It’s hard for the reputation of a single mortal identity, which will have to be retired in a few decades anyway, to compete with that. Monty has been posing as assorted Sleepless detectives for over a hundred years now.


Monty is the true owner of Sleepless Investigations. Over the years, the firm has handled sensitive work for businesses, law firms, the city government, private individuals, and more. It’s the oldest PI agency in Louisiana and well-reputed for its thoroughness and discretion, which is aided by the fact that Monty has no interest in using to accumulate temporal power. To him, the agency is merely an instrument to pursue the Truth.


Monty is a figure of much respect in the Camarilla. While few Kindred love him, as there’s no predicting where he might next decide to stick his nose, he’s won great acclaim for the investigative work he’s handled over the centuries. He’s solved cases for everyone from Prince Vidal to the lowliest Caitiff—Monty will help anyone without regards to clan or covenant, if he believes they genuinely seek the Truth. All of the factions would like to recruit him. As with Sundown, Kindred find it hard not to respect his independent stance. (Camarilla Status •••)

Monty is even more revered by his clan for his unwavering dedication to the Truth. While the Camarilla values his “search” for its utility, Clan Malkavian believes it serves a deeper purpose. Time will tell what that is. (Malkavian Status ••••)

Monty belongs to no covenant.


• 6. “The Mother” (e. unknown, d. uncertain)
 • 7. The Malkavians will not speak this Kindred’s name.
  • 8. Uriah Travers (e. early 19th century)
   • 9. Hercule “Monty” Lestrange (e. late 19th century)
    • 10. Frank Larsen (e. early 21st century)
 • 7. The Malkavians will not speak this Kindred’s name.
  • 8. Clarice Barabet (e. early 19th century, d. 2005)
   • 9. Harlequin (e. early 20th century)
    • 10. Marceline Duval (e. early 20th century)
     • 11. Ophelia Hensley (e. mid 20th century, d. late 20th century)
      • 12. Janine Clairmont (e. mid 20th century)
       • 13. Catarina Glapion (e. early 21st century)
     • 11. The Man With The Silver Smile (e. late 20th century, d. 2016)
    • 10. Elyse Benson (e. mid 20th century)
     • 11. Rachel Elliot (e. early 21st century, d. 2005)
   • 9. King Bolden (e. early 20th century)
    • 10. Martin Neal (e. mid 20th century, d. 2005)
     • 11. Julia Tilbrey (e. mid 20th century, d. 2005)
 • 7. The Malkavians will not speak this Kindred’s name.
  • 8. Rachel Naomi Massoteau (e. early 20th century, d. late 20th century)


Monty Lestrange is the childe of Uriah Travers, a reclusive hermit who dwells in the bayous beyond New Orleans. The lunatics refuse to speak the name of Uriah’s sire, but he is believed to be the grandchilde of an enigmatic elder known only as the Mother.


Monty’s childe Frank Larsen is a tabloid photojournalist with a penchant for capturing improbable photographs and member of the Twenty-Twenties Anarch krewe.

Hercule "Monty" Lestrange

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