The year, 1462.

Constantinople had fallen.

Moslem Turks swept into Europe with a vast superior force,

striking at Romania, threatening all of Christendom.

From Transylvania arose a Romanian knight

of the Sacred Order of the Dragon

known as Dracula.

On the eve of the battle, his bride, Elizabeta,

whom he prized above all things on earth,

knew that he must face an insurmountable force

from which he might never return.

God be praised, I am victorious.

Elizabeta.

The vengeful Turks shot an arrow into the castle

carrying false news of Dracula's death.

Elizabeta, believing him dead, flung herself into the river.

My prince is dead.

All is lost without him.

May God unite us in heaven.

She has taken her own life.