The sight of some sort of altar sent a shiver up Oratha's spine, this was far worse than expected.  A temple so defiled was not the labour of simple thieves or plunderers.  As if on queue she spotted the figures.  Drow.  Her lips pulled back in a grimace.  She was not normally one to judge a race based on hearsay and rumours.  But between their presence in such a place and the altar.  It was clear that something even more nefarious than she had imagined was afoot.<br/><br/>Three on one odds were not in Oratha's favour, but retreat seemed unwise.  Still, caution was advised.  Oratha lifted her shield to hold it at the ready between her and the figures.  Her sword pulled back, held at the ready to strike.  The rapiers were of concern, but the staff screamed magic.  She moved slightly back in to the door to limit their ability to flank her as her eyes scanned from one to the next.  Her heart thrummed in her chest with excitement, and she could feel the adrenaline of battle coursing through her veins.  It would all be decided, one way or another, in the next few moments.