Fukda d'Anish, current ruler of Liege-Trier (you know, that country you couldn't give less of a shit about) arrived back from his diplomatic mission to secure some powerful allies. Once back in his mediocre castle, he spied a messenger waiting by the gates for him. Fukda stopped for a second and stared:

Shit, is he here for me? Fucking hell, I don't wanna doo bizniss now, I'm tired. Maybe if I walk past him I won't have to talk to him?

(btw, he's also severely inbred and possibly autistic)

Fuck, he moved as I got closer to him. I'll try hiding, maybe he didn't see me?

"Your lordship, I desperately need to inform you of a growing international tension. I prithee that we may discuss this outside of the bushes?"

And with a mumbled shit Fuckda stepped out of his thuper-thecret hiding place, brushed off the brambles and glared at the irrelevant fool before him.

"Well man, what bisnis do you want?"

"Sir, the Ottomans have finally enacted the plans! Everything is coming together. With the Ottomans provoking the pious states of Austria and Hungary, we may finally expand!"

"Fukda smiled after hearing those words, as a large, ominous grin crept across his face"

"What did you say, my lordship?"

"Oh shit, sorry. It sounded better in my head. Anyhow, seeing our Muslim friends carrying out their side of the agreement is certainly thrilling. Messenger!"

"Yes sir?"

"Travel to Paris as fast as possible. Inform them that our discussions are to be carried out post-haste. We will proceed when you return"

As the messenger grinned and ran to mount his horse, Fukda felt a childish, giddy excitement wash over him. The Austrians sure felt safe in their towering palace and loyal city-state allies, don't they?

T'would be a shame if in, say 50 years, Vienna was nothing but charcoaled remains, wouldn't it?