A council of fear

An assembly of twenty beings had gathered around the ancient table, a sight unseen for generations, perhaps even epochs. Many had been coaxed from their carefully curated hibernations, their ancient slumbers shattered by the chilling certainty of the Lord’s return. Their heirs and appointed proxies, accustomed to wielding power in their stead, now sat amongst their awakened sires and grand-sires, a palpable tension thrumming in the air like an impending storm.

These were creatures who had warred with each other for centuries, their grudges as old and deeply ingrained as the stone of the very room they occupied. Vampires, their aristocratic bearing radiating an aura of ancient power and cold indifference, sat stiffly, their crimson eyes scanning the room for any sign of treachery. Werewolves, their raw, untamed energy barely contained beneath a veneer of human civility, fidgeted restlessly, their senses on high alert, sniffing the air for any hint of danger.

Sirens, their ethereal