The Shadow of Set: A Lasombra's Inquiry into a God's Origins

As a Lasombra, I am no stranger to gods—those we make, those we break, and those we become. Yet the figure of Set, the serpent deity of the Ministry and its zealous Church, gnaws at my curiosity like a shadow that refuses to fade. The Setites claim he is the progenitor of their blood, a god who defied the sun and birthed a clan of liberators. Their tales are seductive, woven with enough truth to unsettle even a skeptic like me. I have walked their temples, sifted their scrolls, and faced their priests in this shadowed capital, seeking the origins of Set. This is no report for others; it is my own reckoning, a Lasombra's attempt to pierce the myth of a god who may yet cast a longer shadow than Caine himself.

My search began in a sunken archive beneath a Setite safehouse, its air thick with incense and the hiss of unseen serpents. The priestess, a Church devotee named Sekhmet, granted me access—not out of trust, but because my Oblivion-forged presence unnerved her ghouls. She presented a papyrus, allegedly predating the Second City, inscribed with the Hymn of Set's Rebellion. The text claimed Set was no mere Kindred but a divine being, born of the primordial chaos before Ra's light bound the world in order. He was the storm god, the slayer of Osiris, who rejected Caine's curse and swore to shatter the Aeons—false gods created to enslave creation. When Ra cursed him with a weakness to light, Set descended into Duat, the underworld, vowing to return and awaken his children.

Sekhmet's eyes gleamed as she spoke of Set's Embrace, a ritual that birthed the clan through blood and sorcery. She claimed his first childe, a mortal priest named Khet, carried his divine spark, spreading it through the generations. The Church holds this as gospel, their Akhu rituals meant to summon Set from Duat. Yet the Ministry's moderates, those Anarch-aligned heretics, scoff at this. I met one such Minister, a neon-clad preacher named Thoth, in a club pulsing with mortal vice. He called Set a \"metaphor for rebellion\", a symbol of the Beast's freedom within every Kindred. His dismissal of the Church's myths was too glib, his smile too knowing. I suspect even he believes more than he admits.

The truth, if it exists, lies in fragments. The Hymn aligns with Noddist lore of the Antediluvians, suggesting Set was a Third Generation Kindred, perhaps a childe of Zillah or Irad, who crafted a god's mantle to rival Caine's. His rebellion against Ra mirrors Lasombra's own defiance of the sun, a parallel that unsettles me. Sekhmet whispered of Set's battles with the Lupines, who served Ra, and his creation of Serpentis to mock their forms. These tales reek of propaganda, yet the clan's Disciplines—Serpentis, Protean, Presence—lend credence to a founder of unnatural power. I felt Serpentis myself when Sekhmet's gaze slowed my blood, a sensation no Lasombra forgets.

But myths are not facts. The papyrus bore marks of later scribes, and Thoth's library held contradictory texts—one claiming Set was a demon bound by Egyptian mages, another that he was a mortal sorcerer ascended through blood. The Church's fervor blinds them to these cracks, but I see a clan crafting divinity to justify their corruption. Set's origins matter less than his hold over them. The Church's rituals risk Masquerade breaches, summoning the Second Inquisition's gaze, while the Ministry's revisionism courts Anarch chaos. Both factions wield Set's name as a weapon, and I, a Keeper of Shadows, respect such cunning.

I left the archive with more questions than answers. Is Set a god, an Antediluvian, or a lie? His shadow looms over the clan, driving their ambition as my own blood drives me. For now, I will watch their rites, steal their secrets, and guard my own. If Set awakens, he will find a Lasombra ready—not to kneel, but to challenge.

Dr. Monroe Black, Keeper of Shadows, for Her Private Archive