The possible answer as 'why here, why in South America?' If is the master and commander of the BH universe, the fanfictioners are happy to provide the reasons as why in Lord Toby world, South America is the place to be for the Old Ones.
They followed soon. Naturally they would have followed… They were not idiots. They could see the potential. A new world which original inhabitants were savages: a continent which to their best knowledge was untouched, unsoiled by their like. An offer they could not refuse. An opportunity like that would not come again. Their breed had spawned all over Europe, Asia and Africa. They rode, they walked; they came on board ships of many shapes. There always was a mean to travel. But that... nobody knew about it. Legends... Legends were true. They existed; therefore they should have guess Avalon existed. Though Avalon was way bigger and way different than the Arturian tale.
Ships were fun, you showed up like a shy passenger waiting to be gently, kindly or mockingly invited. The sailors did their job; you watched eagerly how they were working the sails. You offered even to be taught; until they stopped being useful. Till they returned to their original status. Livestock.
Sea tempests, typhoons were used to explain why some never made it. They made it alright though. They avoided the known harbours. They accepted rough landings of some sort. How many drowned is anybody guess! But they made it.
What really had not been expected was that the natives would prove so reluctant to be used as feeding ground; as for turning, the Northern tribes were not welcoming the notion. One could say all the natives refused the offer. Between those who had been so used to be in some sort of symbiosis with Nature, and those who got a thrill at ripping beating hearts from their victims' chest, all of them could guess if you were a warrior or a 'shadow thief'. A thief
coming from the Shadows.
Did it make a difference? No. Live stock is and was live stock. Vampires are not racist: white Caucasian, Aryan, coloured, black, Asian, Kaffir… All were livestock with minute
differences as between an Angus from a Brahma bull. Blood ran the same pathway in similar blood vessels and was the very same red hue.
The tribes spoke their own language and the Spanish, Portuguese, French, English settlers only knew their own. Never did the colons question the hate the tribes harboured against the white man and any chariot's mysterious disappearance was welcomed news for the Red men.
The conquista of the Americas with the unexplained rapid fall of the Aztec and Inca empires was ascribed to a benign God or 'luck' for the miscreants. The Wild West was wilder. The Caribbean pirates were indeed blood thirsty. As long as the vampires avoided the invaders, the Natives were fair game. It was cruel but nowhere was it said vampires could not follow Columbus...
The American double continent was a blessing from … who knows? The vampires made it their own…until it lasted. Mirrors were brought in along pesky witch-hunters. Salem fired the first warning. Ships came, more ships, more people. More potential preys along more awareness.
Do not think the vampires were just monsters. It was not them who gave the Natives woollen bed covers which had been used on small pox infected patients. It was not the vampires who brought measles, or tuberculosis. The settlers benefited from the vampires; soon the
Amerindians, North and South of the continent would be extinct. This was meaning turning on the colons, the vampires had rather carefully avoided.
Worse was to come. The humans invented trains to allow quick transport about the same time they invented the camera. Photographs started to show up all over the place. Everyone wanted to show how good or possibly ugly one was.
The traveller who had been able to go from new found city to newer found city was recognized by people from the old place or queried as why he was not showing on the blasted photographic picture. The hunting grounds grew smaller, smaller. Until it was only South America and not Mexico or Buenos Aires. No luck for that. Even third world countries were becoming dangerous. It was the Amazone, the jungle. Where people seldom turned up, or where people did not care if you lived or died.
The Old Ones started hiding in old lost cities and their underground tunnels. Where archaeologists can get trapped... accidentally. Without causing distress to the Smithsonian Institute.
The hunter took to living in the shadows. It became unsafe or limited to the adventurous to travel. The ones who had clawed their way with Cortez or Champlain stayed, becoming known as the Old Ones. The young Ones stayed where they ha been turned and their sires who had been uninterested in the Columbus venture stayed with them in Europe and the two other continents. Australia was ruled out as discovered too late.
Ships were used, not anymore abused. You stopped munching on the crew. You learnt to make deals. Black market, shady deals. The hunter paid for what he had for centuries taken for granted. Pitiful.
The jungle was still holding but how long? Highways were planned. Humans, unsuspicious were informed about environmental issues. Greenpeace would have been quite surprised to learn the exact identity of some of her generous benefactors.
Soon the Americas would be lost. Next what? Infiltrating the NASA was ruled out. Biometrics and scanners. The sea? Under the sea? Some were thinking about it. Edgar W. smiled. He was an adventurous Old One. The Saxon had survived his viking sire. The bite had a strange after-effect though. Norse fangs communicated a desire to travel and not to accept closed doors or town walls. Edgar still loved to travel, still finding an interest in his preys aside their blood. EW was not going to accept fences.
Under the waves, there were no walls, no limits. Borders were theoretical as for the maritime predators... what would a shark do facing a human unhindered by oxygen tanks? How was the taste of shark blood...Was it the solution: to turn vampires into…mermaids?