She had never heard of the Dagger of Ayshaia but she did not like the sound of it at all. Scylla was preparing to come down from the obelisk and slither off into the shadows when the leader muttered an arcane incantation and threw the dagger down to impale the earth.

There was a flash of searing white light and then everything seemed to turn grey. Scylla shrieked pitifully as she fell to the temple floor, numbed by the shock of supernatural power.

"Wrap her in the Net of Nimrod." She heard the leader's commands from what sounded like miles away. "It will keep her immobilized for the trip back to Vienna. Those pompous assess in the Council of Watchers will burn with envy when they learn of our prize."

Scylla lay perfectly still, conserving strength as the Sages stalked closer. Through eyes barely open, she saw that two of them were almost upon her. Each held a circular mystical talisman in defence. These wards would do them little good, but if she did not act immediately all would be lost. She could not abide imprisonment. Not ever.

Scylla rallied her strength and attacked. She pulled back her tail and snapped the end of the great appendage like a bullwhip at the soft pink flesh of one of the men's throats. A mighty crack filled the temple air and she took enormous satisfaction in the obscene bent of his neck as he fell to the ground in a twitching heap.

The other foolishly attacked with his mystical weapon, a coin of sorts made from the purest silver. He lunged at her, touching her chest with the artefact.

Scylla shrieked in both pain and rage. It felt as though she had been set aflame. How dare this pathetic bag of flesh hurt her! She reared back and caught sight of four others coming toward her with a net that shimmered with all the colours of the rainbow. It was almost mesmerising, the colours warm and calming.