Amadi or Amadéo, his master called him, was a rebellious young slave on a plantation in Santo Domingo well before the mulattos rose up against the French. On several occasions, his disobediance almost led to his death, but his will and body were strong and he refused to be fully subjugated. The source of his passion for freedom were the tales his mother told him as a child of their home in Africa, tales which were irrevocably burned into his psyche when she was raped by one of the overseers and died in childbirth giving life to his half-sister. When even she was taken from him, he finally knew he must escape this life or die.
Amadi's group of escaped slaves was one of the largest and most persistant. He taught those of them who did not remember their homeland or had been born in this land of their heritage, including the worship of their own gods. Meanwhile, he and his men did not rest at merely having freed themselves, they made an active effort to free others, even raiding some of the more outlying plantations. His actions were noticed by another refugee of considerably greater age, who finally approached him one night when he'd grown old and sick and offered him the chance to continue his work. Hesitant, at first, it was the voices of his people's ghosts who finally swayed him.
The transformation which overtook him after his embrace nearly destroyed him, if not for the patient and wise voice of his sire explaining to him that in order to breach the gap between life and death he must himself straddle it and feel its power. Slowly, revulsion was replaced by a calm fascination in the process of his own decay and he was soon ready to take his new place. Discarding his own name, he took on the name of one of the ghede, or spirits of the dead, and became the shepherd of his band of escaped slaves as well as those who hadn't been so lucky. With his help, the dead and the living rose up in rebellion and the French were driven from the isle.
Soon after the rebellion, however, he learned of the fate of his long lost half-sister and that her descendants still lived but were leaving the island to go to New Orleans, afraid that the rebels would strip them of their goods and property. Leaving another in his place to keep up the work he has started, the Baron proceeded to follow them. His arrival in New Orleans was noted, but he was assumed to be a part of Legba's entourage and, thus, no attempt to contact him individually occured. The Baron was not one to argue and claimed the cemetary for his own, quietly watching over his newly discovered family and tending to the dead, as always.
He paid scant attention to the politics going on among the other kindred of the city, his interest detached and academic as he pursued his other, personal interests. He did, however, begin to learn much of their conflicts merely by speaking with the dead. Over the years, without really meaning to, he became something of an expert on the local intrigues, just in time to take an actual interest in the affairs of the city. The rise of Marie Laveau had been noted and he had approached her to ensure himself that she was not going to harm their people with her excesses. They came to an agreement of sorts and he was happy to accept her respect and even approved of the new unity and power enjoyed by the vodoun.
The civil war, however, forced him to become more aware of the city's affairs. While the enfranchisement of his people was heartening, the reality of Reconstruction and the harsh oppression afterwards, as well as the invasion of the Camarilla Brujah and the decline of voodoo, convinced him that he could no longer simply lurk in the graveyards and watch. Offering quiet help to the Setites at first, mostly in the form of intelligence, he soon became more aggressive, though remaining subtle. Wraithly spies and saboteurs harried the Brujah and warned him of attempts by other Camarilla agents to infiltrate the city and his intelligence grew from a boon to being an invaluable resource drawn upon by both Legba and Vicario.
The death of Vicario provided a new opportunity for the Baron to gain even greater influence. Mediating between Legba and Delacroix for the archbishopric, he was instead able to get them to accept places as bishops with himself. Their acceptance of the offer was based both on desperation to settle the matter before the Camarilla mustered for a second strike and the unspoken assumed threat posed by the Baron's extensive knowledge of all goings on within the city. After the agreement was reached, Callough was put down and the city was, once again, in the hands of the Sabbat. The three heads of the city settled back down into their corners to rebuild and recover, pondering the motives of the other two and watching for a chance to take the upper hand.
Most of the confusion about the Baron's motives comes from the inability for his enemies to accept their simplicity or his sincerity. He continues in his task of watching over his charges and acting as a medium between the living and the dead. He also ponders the state of kindred existence and the nature of their existence. Lastly, he watches over the descendants of his half-sister, though this he's been able to keep very quiet, lest someone learn of them and endanger them to get at him.
Much of the difficulty people have in reading him comes from the oddly alien calmness he has about his own repulsive state and the strange sense of humor which he's developed over the centuries about life and death. Highly inappropriate and often downright lewd, his manner tends to make other kindred nervous or dismissive of him. His constant and natural trafficking with the dead, on the other hand, terrifies many (Malena, in particular) and disturbs the rest.
Samedi only really feels any sort of attachment to one other vampire and that is is childe Brigit. A distant member of his family, he couldn't bear to watch her die so young and so lacking in hope and sought to utilize her morbid perspective in a productive way. Worrying over the choice, he finally decided to go through with it at the last minute and has been convinced his judgement was sound ever since. He both respects and prides himself on her progress and is actually happy, in a distant way, to have a companion during these odd modern nights. He has taken to using her to keep up with the times, lest he become hopelessly anachronistic.
While Jean-Pierre might think that the old vampire has a fondness for him, there really isn't that much to it. Samedi merely enjoys their discussions. He finds the fresh perspective useful, as with his childe, but has no particular attachment to its source. However, he does find the peculiarity of the kiasyd oddly fascinating as well as its strange abilities. This, more than anything, has caused him to continue their correspondance for so long.
Samedi respects Legba to some extent for his role in the Santo Domingo revolts, but finds the scheming serpent too self-serving to really trust or respect fully. However, he does enjoy the connection to his mortal home and the two will often get together to speak of those times or the state of the modern nation. Of his kin, Samedi is similarly wary. Their interest in voodoo is purely for their own purposes and he dislikes their attempts to force the spirits into service. It has been many years since his agreement with Marie and it seems long since forgotten. He may, at some point in the near future, reassert his authority over the dead, whom he considers his.
Of the other kindred Samedi pays very little interest. He has an interest in Job and the nature of her affliction, but has yet to manage to convince the mad Templar to sit down with him and speak of it. He has, however, observed her from afar and tend to have at least one spirit following her at any given time.
The Baron has little mortal influence, particularly given the decline in sincere belief in voodoo, but his few true followers are very loyal and some come from families that have been serving him for generations. While not very effective in politics, economic, or even social circles, they are quite a force in the local occult scene and are also perfectly willing to act as vessels for his other, more numerous, allies: the dead.