I doubt the results are going to change.
add 2 extra votes for Wallachia, from a flip and from someone who would rather have it if his option was too little voted, and the results are clear.
Remember, I am not grotsnik, so expect less purple and the occasional cheese, but I tried my best.
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Prologue: The Lifeless Doomsayer
"The merciless judge and executioner commits the sentence, moving to an end the life of the convict. The cross impales the shadow of the crescent, and proclaims the announciation of a new aeon in the resonating echoes of blood and terror, trespassing all who stand opposed to his path until they no longer scream, for he only confides in death as a loyal subject to follow him. A new curse is at hand, a new generation more damned, powerful and dreadful than all who ever existed, one which does not embrace or succour the beast, for they and the beast are indivisible. Their forefather is him, who renounced God in the name of his love for his damned wife, and executed his brother, decried as a traitor of his family, race and God. Beware of the son of the Dragon! For his shadow shall erase that of the first! When the last great Roman city falls, the bonfire of his damnation and our final nights shall be lit!"
Some claps echoed through the almost completely dark chamber, a few blatantly forced or ironic, but most either were genuine or properly staged. The speaker indulged himself into a trance, unresponsible to the voices, whispers and scant attempts of a few in the crowd to ask more questions about such prophetic drama, enhanced by the impaled dummies decorating the stage, by request of the mad performer, some grossly filled with animal entrails coming out of their gaps as an augmentation to their presence. Circumstances they could not predict would doom the memory of this spectable to be forgotten in the eternal flames of hell or in the eternal void of oblivion, but for now, its entire length and its final monologue would deeply mark those who witnessed it.
"This is the first time a Malkavian spoke something mildly coherent. Of course, for Adam de la Halle, it could be an invention from his creativity, considering his already great talent and imagination one century ago, but of all his prophetic plays after his embrace, none ever approached the clearness in message behind this one." a low voice commented to whom stood at his left.
"Indeed, but anyone with enough time and study can concoct vague prophecies that appear to be reaching a closure but are not. A shame the eldest have dismissed this exhibition under the expectation it would be nothing than more of the same." the other responded.
"Not at all. They shall certainly hear of this from their vassals, but I doubt they will give much relevance to it only because there are disturbing patterns over it. Besides, with the kine weak and uncertain bloodlines leading to this recent war over the throne of France between the Plantagenets and the House of Valois, there has never been a better time for them to pull strings in the mortal world than now, and I doubt they will care much over prophecies while focused on the possibilities this brings."
"Now what about..."
Suddenly, all conversations were interrupted by a growing fear, for a huge force knocked down the large doors of the chamber. Immediately lit torches began to fly all over the stage and in a chorus of utmost revilement, a mob, from where authoritative voices were highlighted, proclaimed the fate of all who watched the performance:
"THE BLOOD DRINKER DEMONS ARE HERE! SUFFER NOT THE DEMON TO LIVE!" the screams repeated, only to be punctuated by the authoritative voice, "DEUS VULT!" proclaiming such as God's will.
The damned tried, without success, to use their powers, for they were so vastly outnumbered they never stood any chance, and were cast into the flames of hatred, every of their precautions failed, and one doubt was the last thing in their minds, beyond the suffering and despair, before their finals deaths. There was no way, no possibility for the gullible kine to have found them out like that considering all the precautions that were taken. No kine would have realized this event was happening, no kindred would betray his race to the kine for there is no mercy for collaborationists either, and nobody who was aware of the event was captured by the Inquisition.
There were only two who could have known about this and told the zealous kine about it:
God or Satan.
The question that lasted until the mind of a young undead of little renown was turned into cinders was:
"Was this an act of divine mercy to our cursed existences?"
"Or are we sacrifical steps towards Devil's plan?"
The answer to these questions would remain a mystery for the rest of the century, and the prophecy whose herald is now nothing but ashes to the wind, forever forgotten, with nobody alive to vindicate many of the events it predicted, such as the ultimate demise of Constantinople in the year of the Lord 1453, and the rise of one of the most cruel men that ever existed from the humiliation and abuses he suffered as a child held hostage in the court of the degenerate, bestial, sodomite and corrupt sultan Mehmed II, next to his brother Radu the Handsome, which he saw as a traitor to his race, family and God. In a few years, this man would be known as Vlad III Tepes, the Impaler, son of Vlad II Dracul, the Dragon, and what he would do in the name of God would make Caine look like a saint in comparison.
And so, in the next chapter of this dread tale, the history of his life shall be told, from April of 1456 onwards, however, differently from what the Sultans of the Ottoman Empire hoped for, his reign, cruelty, ambitions, ruthlessness and desire for vengeance would not end with his death. Quite the contrary, his reign as a kine was only the beginning.