We had to get everything ready, or else the vamps' attack would be deadly to any one of us. We- me and my tribe- hated the undead. We thought they were un-pure. We knew nothing about them, of course.
We were all preparing our weapons. The only one I needed to be effective in battle was my sword. It was given to be by my father as a present, just before he died. It had a metal hilt with Blue Topaz bits around it, moulded into a beautiful pattern. The blade was sleek and shiny, and it had intricate designs at the bottom that slowly faded away at the middle. It was a sword that I preferred to use, because I was the best swordsman in the tribe when I used it.