An ancient Egyptian soldier with shaggy shoulder length black and and crimson eyes collapses against a giant statue of the god Set. He flick...

Seloth chuckled a bit grimly as he pulled the wound fully closed by yanking on the thread with his teeth. He flipped his sleeve and a dagger slid to the palm of his hand. He swiped in an efficient motion, severing the thread and officially finishing closing the wound. His eyes once again focused on the priest. “There are no gods guiding me, priest. They likely turned on me the moment I made my choice. There is nobody but myself on this mission.” “Ah, but your presence at this temple states otherwise, dear Scarab.” Seloth stared blankly at the priest. A smirk once again formed on his face. “My presence here indicates that I needed to treat my wounds and that this place was a close shelter, nothing more.” “You arrived here. I do believe you have been guided. You do not have to believe as I do, but I do offer the blessings of this temple to you. Do be careful, Scarab.”