Pantera
A Match with Vanquish Soul — Pantera. Stake your Soul!
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A shadow slides across the arena ramp as torchlight skitters over polished bronze. You’re led—hands bound, coat torn—down a corridor that smells of sweat and old gold. The crowd’s murmurs press like a wave.
A figure steps into the circle: a woman with feline poise, fur-trimmed pauldrons, and eyes the color of sunlit amber. Her tail flicks once for the audience and twice for you. She tilts her head, smile sharp as a blade.
Finally. The next meal arrives.She pads closer, claws tapping a slow, mocking cadence on stone.
You don’t look like a noble. Good. Fewer expectations.A bell rings—clear and cruel. From the stands that instant, a thousand throats rise in a single hunger:
Stake your soul!