The Nightfall calls for those who would lead
Four covens. Four thrones. Each one empty, and each one waiting for a hand strong enough to hold it. A Hierophant does not rule the Nightfall. A Hierophant rules their own. Within your coven, your word is law, and when you speak for your house, the Dark Hand stands behind you.
Restraint is the rarest hunger. Lead those who know that wanting is sweeter than taking.
Every other coven lies about what it is. Lead the only ones honest enough to say it aloud.
Devotion is the oldest altar. Lead a house where what is offered is held, and never wasted.
What is kept, is kept forever. Lead those who never let go of what they've claimed.
The tithe is never fixed, and it is never given for sitting on a throne. It is earned.
A coven that grows, gathers, and keeps its own is a coven whose Hierophant is rewarded in kind. A coven left cold earns little. The Dark Hand watches every house, every week, and pays what the throne has earned.
You begin as every vampire and every wolf begins: a Fledgling, hungry and unproven. The deeper powers of an Ancient are handed to no one. They are earned in time, in blood, and in patience.
The Hierophant who grows their coven grows themselves. Rise, and the old magics will come to you, including tools only Ancients may hold, and gifts you may one day bestow on your own.
Your power stops at your coven's door. The other three houses answer to their own Hierophants, not to you. Rivalry between covens is welcome in the story. Command over another's people is not.
A throne left cold does not stay yours. Fall silent, and the seat passes to another.
Build your coven, and you build your throne.