It's 1680 and Iyasu I has taken the title of Negusa Neghast - "King of Kings" and Adyam Segad, "one whom the confines of the earth bow" of the Empire of Ethiopia from his father and big reforms sweep this african continent. Religion and its practical adherents is once again the source for strife and bloodshed - but Iyasu has an open mind (and a bloody sword) and a re-embracing of the Catholicism of Europe begins anew.

And a baby girl is born in the tents of the Royal Harem. And love conquers common sense (and practice) and through the flaps, a ruddy pair of hands gently takes the child from the midwife as the gentle muffled sobbing of women mixes with the savanna's winds...

And another chapter of the prophecy is as it was foretold - a warrior queen will be taken from her birthright only to return to her birthright on the blood of the righteous and the innocent.

Amara she is named by the nomads who's sole purpose is to bring her to womanhood and sword. Her name reflects the tapestry of cultures that amassed around the beacon of the Africas: From the Greek traders, her name is the diminutive of "amarantos" (eternal, unfading). From the sons of the Roman Legions, she is "amarus" (bitter, sour), and from the Indian sailors her name is Sanskrit in origin, for "immortal", but to her ever-hopeful people, Amara is the name of paradise in Ethiopian legends, and to a select few the prophesied one who would deliver it...

Every culture in the horn of Africa had looked for her coming - some with fear and some with hope as her name spelled both beginning and end. Birth and death.

And so she was raised as a treasured relic. A precious jewel. A protegè of the craftiest of scholars, the deftest of marshal tutors and subtlest of diplomats - kept away from the fortunes of life by the constant movement of her protectors, her immersion in learning a diversion from ever really living.

Pamerpered? Yes. Cherished? Oh heavens yes. Revered, worshipped, catered to, and exalted? By the Gods yes... but deep within her heart was a small girl who craved a certain something that she didn't even name.

As she grew to womanhood and took command of the destiny of her tribes, she enjoyed the spoils that every general was due. Slaves and attendants she never wanted for flesh, but she thirsted oh how she thirsted for someone to know her - for never did any of her subjects deign to look into her eye, into her... soul.

And so a gnawing rage nursed itself on the scraps of tenderness... morsels of sweetness and human affection that did nothing but shine light on the normal state of emptiness that was beginning to consume even the dreams of this prophesied Queen savior.

But if her stewards noticed this they said nothing save for her Grandmother/Guardian and her whispered words of caution were taken not as a sign to refine the plans of war but to quicken their pace. And so the warrior Queen was busied with affairs of revolution and guerilla feints - tests and tripwires that the King of King's armies charged into with arrogance and abandon.

But the King of Kings had taken a page from his grandfather's book and once again opened Ethiopia's doors to the European Kings for inspiration and guidance... and firepower...

And where there's opportunity and fortune and desire... there's Vlad. And he was welcomed to the courts of the African King of Kings - the direct descendant of Solomon and Sheba. Vlad smiled warmly as he met the "One whom the confines of the Earth bows" taking the King's pro-offered hand in respect - watching the Lord of Africa's eyes widen as the icy chill of the Vampyre King's fingers crept into the very marrow of the royal bones... For the African King dared not reveal fear - desparately struggled with his soul's quailing, only faintly aware that he bowed to the Lord of death and destruction. And finally with mercy, Vlad released his hand but not his soul.

An elaborate show of force and reality put on for one alone - Amara's spy within the African court. And Vlad enjoyed the breadth of Iyasu's hospitality and the bounty that is Africa was spread wide before him as he waited patiently for Amara's response.

And respond she did. Under the tree in the Royal Courtyard that bears her name. And though her prowess and victories made her less cautious than she need, Vlad was still impressed with the comfort and grace by which she met him - under the very swords of the Royal Guard - Amara, fabled spiritual head of the guerilla forces that harassed and nipped at the heels of Iyasu's empire.

And amused as he was by her marshalling harassment of Iyasu's desires, he hungered for the smoldering rage in her soul - reducing him to a slave to his own lust - to feed on her desire for havoc, her ache for oblivion... her grief for a love that her heart had convinced her was forever unattainable was now the destructive fire chaos at all costs...

And he loved that.

And so he baited her. He looked into her eyes. Deep into her eyes as no one had ever before.

And hooked her. Her fire was met by his fire. Her havoc by his. Her oblivion by his...

And his went on forever. And ever and ever and ever.

And she bowed to him. And begged of him.

And he lifted her up.  And took her hand.  And offered her a kiss.  
And she was consumed by the havoc and oblivion and chaos that she 
had sought.

And a panther appeared at the small of her back - seared onto
her flesh - the only blemish on her flawless beauty.  But she wore 
it proudly - hard won and hard deserved. Never knowing that it was 
her bondage and cell.

And hard she became.  And victorious and death and oblivion flowed 
wherever the Clan of the Panther prowled on behalf of its Vampyre 
Queen.

And those who saw the prophesy made flesh, learned to bow to its havoc. And the great priests and stewards chose their fate by the conviction of their hearts. Ambition without discipline, no matter the malice, was abhorrent to the Black Panther Queen. There were those who's arrogance was amusing to her - but immortality and oblivion were her gifts and she chose with such prejudice that even evil was left begging. And the Lord of Vampyres was impressed and inspired by discretion and he vowed take forth this aspect to his future choices.

And Vlad was able to show his newest Queen that her revolution was a waste of energy and resources, and she lusted for the Vampyre King's grand mission. And she pledged tribute of souls and chaos to his Empire. And he accepted her dominion in his stead of the Horn and plenty of Africa.

And roar and whisper of the death in the jungles, the savannas, and plains of Africa crept at will on the whim Queen Amara and her Clan.