had become a handler and an accomplice. It is custom-designed to convey the humbleness and humility of a true man of God.

"I'll tell you what we've done, my friend you and me... We've just secured the salvation of our lineage." the younger man uttered.

After an hour of searching for the urn of the first or the first Vampire, they began to panic. There were no indications of it and the old man felt a numbing weakness overcome him. All he could do was look at the ruins and shut his eyes. Could they be mistaken? Are they?

The stone map suggested that they were in the right place. But as he began to digest what they had just done, impending darkness came down upon him, and he wondered what dreadfulness lay if the urn of the first was driven or drifted into the air when the cave was detonated earlier. Fears tumbled upon him about what horrors lay ahead, horrors the old man would never reckon possible back in his isolated office in the museum, where he'd first met the tsar. Where he brought the old man back from the edge, showing him the wonder of his heritage.

If they returned without the urn of the first they would be as good as dead without a doubt. After all these years of searching and a never-ending midnight stroll, when the old man was almost on the verge of grasping it. The urn was gone. He began to panic, he was pacing around and fear came.

"Where the hell could have been? Dammit! We've been searching for it for almost an hour now." He knew he would be dead the minute he went out of this cave.

"I think it's here..." The old man's partner trailed off, "but it's broken...Dammit!

Nervously, he moistened his dry lips as he stood rigid with terror, too overwhelmed to even move a muscle.

The older man runs towards him and kneels to pick up the broken urn with no possible ashes of the First.

"Impossible, this urn could not be broken from a mere detonation, this urn has been here since the beginning and had been made from the gods." He murmured, his panic was tangible. Horrified, his hands flailed in the air before grabbing the person beside him.

The ache in the bottom of their gut telling them that something wasn’t right.

"We both knew we are dead the moment the urn's vanished." The older man couldn’t stop stuttering despite his usual pride.

His eyes darted around, looking for an escape. An oddly primitive warning sounded in the back of his mind. Then he heard the sound of a sword, death has come and fast.