Sekhmet ♀

The battle had already cost them too much. Sekhmet’s breath came ragged, her white fur matted with blood—hers and her fallen comrades’. The catacombs stank of death, the walls pulsing as though the dungeon itself was alive, waiting to claim its next victim. Only three remained standing. Gorrun the orc, stood like a living fortress, his armor cracked. He snorted, his knuckles white around his warhammer as it pointed to the titan. “No door. We stop.” Beside him, Sylvi the elven ranger, remained poised, her emerald eyes sharp as she loosed another arrow. Her words flowed like a noble’s decree. “Verily, we must bring this fiend low, lest its wretched form slip through the gate. We shan’t suffer such ruin upon the world.” Sekhmet growled, her tail lashing. “Then we stop playin’ defense and end this.” The creature before them—the Wraithlord—let out a soul-rending shriek. Its shifting form of flesh and shadow twisted unnaturally, limbs writhing like grasping specters. The runes beneath it pulsed, feeding power into the dimensional door behind it. If it crossed through, the worlds outside would burn. Sekhmet lunged, claws tearing through its unstable body. The Wraithlord recoiled, screeching—but struck back in an instant. A black tendril slashed across her ribs, searing pain through her side. Gorrun was there, slamming his warhammer into the ground, sending a shockwave through the stone. “Cat, move!” he grunted, stepping between her and the beast. “I smash.” Sylvi, fluid as a wisp of wind, loosed three arrows in the space of a breath. “Pray, do keep thy wits about thee, Sekhmet! A reckless charge shall be thy doom.” The Wraithlord screeched again, surging toward the glowing portal. Sekhmet bared her fangs, pushing through the pain. They just had to last long enough… They just needed more time.