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After failed attempt to slay my being, my body lain to rest atop a hill in kosaki lands where a great stone wall was built over my resting. Of recent and after wars of great multitude, the great stone wall atop my resting place was torn apart to reunite its people. While celebrations held and a young soldier native did protest the tearing of my stone grave and gave his lifes blood that it might drain to my body and revive my vengence. I rose to that century of wars by gone.

D.

I and my Beautiful wife were butchered by Kosaaki soldiers within the walls of my own beloved Walachian castle of Vlad of my father. This was in the year of YOUR god 1439 AD. It was not with arrows that we were slain, but of the daggers of butcher dogs. Dogs that, out of vengence for my evil ways and the deserved deaths of their own countrymen, some of whom I remember well see'eth on the spear of death as they writhed and spun about with their spit of tree pinning them to the very earth that they defiled. They, as butcher dogs of war lined the very way to my own beloved castle. Yea, tho they deserved the very evil of deaths administered at the hands of the very king of kings...Vlad Dracule III.

Woe is he who selfishly throes the jest of words to the manner of being that is I.

D.