The sounds of boots falling upon sand and hushed whispers chased away any foolish notion she might have had about good luck. The vampire tensed as she watched and waited. She would study her prey before she attacked, assessing their weaknesses and using them to her advantage. That was how she'd survived these hundreds of years and Laibach willing, would continue to survive.
Scylla saw them, cautiously creeping into the temple with handheld flashlights, the darkness dispelled wherever the powerful beams touched. Some carried lanterns and began to place them about the great ceremonial room. Their heads were covered in hoods, their bodies wrapped in flowing dark robes, and they were well armed. She could feel the arcane energies radiating from their weapons. They were not a hastily gathered rabble out to eradicate evil from their homeland, she thought. No, this group was organized and had access to items of great power.
She was trying to decide if it would be more prudent to flee deeper into the ruins, where human body types could not follow her, when the leader strode into the temple. He was a large man, with a long, grey beard and a look of great cruelty in his eyes. Normally she would have found this an alluring trait, but it did little to arouse her now.
"Prepare yourselves, my brothers," she heard the leader say, his voice thick with an accent she could not place.
He removed a dagger from inside the folds of his clothes. It appeared to be forged from some kind of dark metal, perhaps bronze.
"The Dagger of Ayshaia will force this once sacred place to reveal where the evil is hiding."
