Planeside 3

[Earl of Purple]

Prison Realm

The ironcorns are mostly not ripe yet, and so aren't ready to fall from the tree. If she tries all of them, however, Kiun will discover a few that are loose enough to pluck and take with her.

In the distance, a group approaches along the walkway. Kiun may notice them as she enters or leaves the cell. They aren't humanoid, instead looking more canid, about the size of wolfhounds or Great Danes. They don't look to have heads, instead large humanoid hands grow from their shoulders. They're far enough away at the moment that details aren't too clear, and only the one at the back has a lantern providing light in the void.

[Recaiden]

Hmm. Those are probably the guards that the Weevil mentioned. Silly looking creatures.
Or they might be other visitors who didn't bother to sign in?

After some nervous consideration, Kiun decides it will be best to wait in the iron-oak room until they've gone by.

[Earl of Purple]

Prison Realm

There's four of them, and they slow down as they approach and stop outside the ironwood cell. They are furless, their bodies covered in reddish-brown armadillo-type plates with soft pink flesh in between. One carries a brass lamp on a pole, holding it up over their top. Two of the others hold a length of chain ending in a heavy spiked ball. The last points at Kiun, before holding its hand out and wobbling it from side to side, with fingers outstretched. Sign language like this is often hard to interpret; it's trying to ask why she's here. She signed the book, but the book can't enforce any rules that might be in place here.

[Ironsmith]

[Brefaisil]

"That at least is good news. I would suggests that securing routes to Dho Chladach might be a priority, but. But first-
Marcie rises from the chair once again-
"If I could be shown to the king, and told what you know about his illness, I'll do what I can."

[Brefaisil]

Breoite stands. "Of course. If you would follow me...?" She then proceeds to exit the bedroom, leading Marcie down a long, circular stairway to the rest of the palace.

"Our physicians aren't entirely sure what's wrong with him. He's been... fatigued. And his mind has been somewhat less than lucid. I suspect that, if he were a mere mortal, it would have killed him a long time ago. But as a Lord, his strength has not deserted him entirely."

Breoite leads them into another bedroom; much like hers, the primary feature is the oversized bed, on which rests an elderly man in silk robes. He doesn't stir when they enter. As it is, he's sleeping peacefully, save for his breathing, which is heavy and weary, and implicitly painful. Breoite takes a seat next to him and attempts to gently wake him by stroking his hair. "Dearest, are you awake? We have guests here to see you."

The sickly king opens his eyes and blinks blearily. "Hm? Who is that? Who's there?"

[bc56]

Palace of Orochi
"But they're all, uh... I don't... Uh..." Sekhmet struggles to explain how she feels about the idea of mutual respect. Not that she doesn't want to respect her new minions. "How can I respect them when, uh, I find some of their, uh, behaviors so, uh, abhorrent?" Sekhmet's almost equally referring to the stealing of souls and the particular methods by which succubi and incubi do so.

Sekhmet's Court
Braon's bonds disintegrate immediately. "Interesting. He seems to want you to hate him." Sekhmet says, her voice detached and cool. "How did all this, uh, start?"

[Fenric]

[Palace of Orochi]

The king shakes his head

"If you find their very nature so repulsive, then you are in for a very bad time indeed.

As to the 'stealing' of souls, I still counsel that a person who will fall to the temptations of a 'cubus is a person who will fall to their temptations: you are in no way saving anyone by attempting to prevent your subjects from action, and you are in fact condemning the souls in question to a far worse fate when the devil in question is from a less ... friendly ... place.

As to their methods? I will ask a very blunt question: why do you find a completely natural act of a mortal's body so repulsive?"

[Ironsmith]

[Sekhmet's Court]

Braon approaches Sekhmet, a look of fury on her face. Braeg was here, in the heart of Sekhmet's domain. If she were so inclined, she could have fulfilled their contract with a gesture. Even if she was unwilling to kill him, trapping him for eternity on a prison plane would be a close second. But no, she preferred to talk with him. Maybe invite him over for afternoon tea next time?

Who was she kidding? Sekhmet made her position clear. She wasn't going to fulfill her end of the bargain. She intended to keep Braon trapped here until... what, she wasn't "dangerous" any more? What the here was that suppsed to mean?

She stops short of Sekhmet and glares up at her, shaking with anger. "...Words fail me." She growls. "You want to know how this all started? Look inside my head again."

Braon knew she could do it. She pulled a song from her head earlier. In fact, it was the one time the two of them ever really seemed to connect; Sekhmet immediately healed her afterwards, maybe this would be how she could finally convince the demon queen of what needed to be done. If she didn't have problems extracting a memory that big.

[bc56]

Palace of Orochi
"It's not... Uh... I'm married, I know... It's, uh..." Sekhmet flusteredly tries to explain. She calms down after a moment. "It's just that, uh, it's a very special, uh, sacred thing, and they, uh, just... uh, with anyone for no reason." The whole time, the fiendish queen gestures animatedly as she tries to explain her position.

Sekhmet's Court
"If you insist." Sekhmet ignores Braon's anger and reaches into the fiendling's mind, probing for the memories she wants as gently as she can, which may not be so easy if Braon continues to rage at her.

[Ironsmith]

[Sekhmet's Court]

Braon closes her eyes and tries to relax.

The operative word being "tries". Even as Sekhmet gets inside her head, Braon is clearly agitated and will likely break off at the smallest provocation.

thwunk

Goes Kane's axe as it neatly splits apart another log of wood. There's a bit of a nip in the air; it's autumn, and winter is approaching quickly. He always chopped his firewood around this time of year; his entire house would appreciate the value of a warm hearth in the coming days. Said house consisting of a one-room cabin, in the middle of the Great Northern Woods, far from his homeland of Maesda. Initially, it had been a hastily-built shelter, meant for the sole purpose of protecting himself and his pregnant companion from the ravages of the cold, but in the past eight years, he's built it up into a proper home. Nothing fancy; he didn't have the tools or the expertise for that. But a cozy place nonetheless, the kind that made for fond memories.

Of course, while he's busy ruminating over the subject, he doesn't notice what's going on behind him.

Bronntanas creeps up behind her father, keeping hunched over, low to the ground, on the off chance he turned around and noticed her standing there. She doesn't look a thing like her older counterpart; she doesn't have the needly teeth, or pointed horns, or weary features she would gain later in life. Here, she's a fresh-faced little girl, with no more malice in her than that mischievous glint in her eyes.

While he was working, Kane had set up a little tin cup full of water for himself, which rested on a stump not far behind him. Every now and then, he'd turn to it for refreshment, as a small bit of relief from the labor of splitting logs into fireplace-sized bits.

Yoink.

Bronntanas wraps her hands around this cup and makes for the trees, hiding herself away while she waits for her father to notice what she's done.

It takes a moment before Kane gets thirsty enough to go for the cup again. But when he does, all he can do is give an amused smirk. "Oh, no…" He says, a little too loudly to be just for himself. "Have I been burgled by a forest sprite? Such naughty creatures."

Bronntanas giggles to herself at this. He was being just silly, really.

"Now, where could that little fairy have gone?" Kane muses, stepping slowly, deliberately, through the trees, casually glancing around for some sign of this thief. "Has she gone… here?" He pulls open a nearby bush and shakes his head. Empty. "Or perhaps… here?" He rounds a tree a little further ahead, making a show of scratching his scalp in bewilderment. "Hm… where could she have gone?"

Bronntanas huddles against the tree, unable to keep still, giggling more in giddy anticipation. He always seemed to find her on his third go.

"Ah-ha!" Kane cries out, wrapping his arms around her tree, catching her under the arms. "Gotcha!"

The next few minutes are a happy, dusty blur as the two of them wrestle playfully in the dirt, the water cup cheerfully ignored and forgotten in a bit of play-fighting between father and daughter. As always, Bronntanas wins on a technicality, with her father breathing heavily and leaning against a nearby tree, lacking the youthful vigor she was still blessed with.

Not that it wasn't close. Bronntanas rests against her father's side, panting and wiping dirt from her face. "I got you!" She cheers playfully.

"That you did." Kane gives her a good-natured chuckle and ruffles her boyishly short hair playfully. "I swear, you're getting faster every night."

"Or you're getting slower." She teases.

Kane gives an exaggerated frown. "Come, now. I'm not that old yet." He groans and goes to stand, wiping sweat from his brow. "...Or maybe I am. That used to be easier."

Bronntanas shrugs and retrieves the cup, scrubbing the dirt from it with her shirt. "I'll go get you some water. Maybe you'll feel better after that."

"There's a good girl." Kane smiles proudly as Bronntanas makes her way back into the cabin.

It's a straight shot from the only door to the basin in the corner of the room that kept the day's water supply, but Bronntanas isn't in any hurry. Everywhere she looked in here, there were happy times to be remembered. There was her old cradle in one corner of the room, now converted to a planter for a half-dozen pink carnations. There was the oversized, straw-stuffed bed, littered with quilts and pillows placed haphazardly, where her father would sing her to sleep just about every night. There was the stone fireplace near the back, where she would huddle for warmth over rabbit stew; sometimes she would make it herself, with her father's careful guidance. Even the walls themselves bore charcoal marks tracking her height over the years, every inch a cause for celebration.

And of course, she stops at the pegs by the door to run her hand over her mother's old cloak. She never met her, but her father told her she was a strong, proud woman and he'd felt lucky to have known her.

She snaps out of her reverie at the sound of men arguing outside. One of them was her father, obviously. The other was a stranger, a bearded man with horns and needly teeth.

"You have no business here." Kane rumbles, hefting his axe into a two-handed grip. "Leave my home. Leave me in peace."

"Oh, I think I do, Sir Kane." The stranger replies, with a small, rueful smile. "You took something of mine, eight years ago. I'm here to take it back."

"Is that how you fiendlings think of your women? Possessions to be taken and reclaimed?" Kane growls. "Either way, you're too late. Coir passed away six years ago."

The stranger scoffs. "And she can rot for all I care. Never was much of a lover. As I'm sure you know." He chuckles and leans in. "No, no. I'm here for someone else. She was with child when you stole her away, wasn't she?"

Kane hefts his axe, glaring at him accusingly. "I will not ask you again. Leave."

"Oh, good. Then we can cut this conversation short." The stranger raises his hand, some unseen force pushing out of it and into Kane's chest, throwing him off-balance. The grass around him wriggles into bindings, holding him in place as the stranger retrieves his fallen axe.

Bronntanas watches in horror from the window as the stranger raises the axe overhead with both hands. "Da!" She calls out, seeing what was going to happen too late.

thwunk

Bronntanas ducks behind the window, her hands over her mouth, shaking as she tries to scrub the image of her father lying helpless on the ground out of her mind. This couldn't be real. This was a nightmare.

She can hear the strangers boots as he approaches the house, throwing the axe aside. "Oh, little child~" He calls out, pushing open the door. "Come on out. I promise I won't hurt you."

Too late.

Bronntanas hides underneath her mother's cloak, waiting near the door, concealed. She was going to run for it, the first chance she got. She needed for the stranger to pass her to do that.

She can hear his footsteps. Closer. Closer. Closer still. If she looks down, she can see he's stopped in front of the cloak, facing her.

"Well, hello there."

And then she'll feel his arms wrap around her, inescapably.

Braon pulls away from Sekhmet, fresh tear tracks running down her cheeks. "That's enough!" She snaps. "That's... that's enough." She steps further back, setting herself down in front of Sekhmet, her fist going to her mouth as she tries to choke back a sob.

"...He burned it." She sniffles. "He stole me away and he burned it so I would never go back."

[bc56]

Sekhmet's Court

Partway through the memory, when Braeg begins threatening Bronntanas and Kane, a change comes over Sekhmet. The fiendish queen's visage changes, her demeanor alters. She's still herself but as if viewed through a different lens. Braon probably doesn't have the presence of mind to recognize something that was mentioned to her before; the change of which of Sekhmet's many names is at the forefront of her personality. Before, she was an elegant queen, clad in dresses and jewels. Now, she is still a beautiful, terrible queen of demons, but she is a warrior queen, tall and muscular, clad in elaborate armor of burnished bronze, a shield on her right arm and a hammer hanging from her left hip. Her eyes burn with flame in the shadows of her helmet, her mouth twists in a scowl. "We will stop him. He will not hurt another child like you." Her words drip with disgust and spark with anger.

[Ironsmith]

[Sekhmet's Court]

Braon looks up at the now-warrior queen and scoots back hastily, having only now seen the change. She was intimidating enough before; now she was absolutely terrifying. It didn't help that most of Braon's interactions with her so far have been negative; being spiked to the ground in GLoG, nearly bleeding to death on her couch (after being shot doing the mission Sekhmet had given her), being left on a mountain in the middle of a lava lake, and of course, the last time she'd been in court. For a brief moment, it almost looks like Sekhmet wants to punish her again, and her mind races as she tries to figure out what she did wrong this time.

Then the demon queen speaks, and Braon lets out a sigh of relief. This was exactly what she wanted, more or less. Now Sekhmet was almost as furious with Braeg as she was.

"Took you long enough." Braon sniffles, wiping her nose on her hand.

[Fenric]

Palace of Orochi
"It's not... Uh... I'm married, I know... It's, uh..." Sekhmet flusteredly tries to explain. She calms down after a moment. "It's just that, uh, it's a very special, uh, sacred thing, and they, uh, just... uh, with anyone for no reason." The whole time, the fiendish queen gestures animatedly as she tries to explain her position.

Orochi chuckles

"No reason? It is the very purpose of their entire existence, the answer to the question 'what is the meaning of life' for them. To you, it is a special, sacred experience to share between man and wife but to them? It is why they are even alive... now, given this is the Nexus I do not know the particulars of your people: I won't make that mistake again, but for may of the 'cubi races, it is how they feed and they will die without it."

he shakes his head

"I would not remain king very long if I were to try to force my subjects to not drain the strength from mortals, even to death. I do have laws to guide their choices so far as possible, and there are strict rules about what how they must treat those whose bodies they kill, but stop them? Even I could not endure the rebellion that would follow."

[Recaiden]

Prison Realm

There's four of them, and they slow down as they approach and stop outside the ironwood cell. They are furless, their bodies covered in reddish-brown armadillo-type plates with soft pink flesh in between. One carries a brass lamp on a pole, holding it up over their top. Two of the others hold a length of chain ending in a heavy spiked ball. The last points at Kiun, before holding its hand out and wobbling it from side to side, with fingers outstretched. Sign language like this is often hard to interpret; it's trying to ask why she's here. She signed the book, but the book can't enforce any rules that might be in place here.

Have thy noticed her? Oh, yeah, they've definitely noticed her.
Kiun shuffled towards the door out of the cell.
They, when one of them motions, she waves a wing in greeting.
"Hello! Are you the guards? I'm just here visiting the prisoners."

[Brefaisil]

Breoite stands. "Of course. If you would follow me...?" She then proceeds to exit the bedroom, leading Marcie down a long, circular stairway to the rest of the palace.

"Our physicians aren't entirely sure what's wrong with him. He's been... fatigued. And his mind has been somewhat less than lucid. I suspect that, if he were a mere mortal, it would have killed him a long time ago. But as a Lord, his strength has not deserted him entirely."

Breoite leads them into another bedroom; much like hers, the primary feature is the oversized bed, on which rests an elderly man in silk robes. He doesn't stir when they enter. As it is, he's sleeping peacefully, save for his breathing, which is heavy and weary, and implicitly painful. Breoite takes a seat next to him and attempts to gently wake him by stroking his hair. "Dearest, are you awake? We have guests here to see you."

The sickly king opens his eyes and blinks blearily. "Hm? Who is that? Who's there?"

Marcie follows.

She worried, hearing about the king. Is his illness simply that he's very old? Perhaps being immortal didn't help him with disease that people tend to as they age? But he was sick, severely so, even before the curse fell upon the land. And he must have been fed on his own subjects since then, right? Yet that hasn't helped him?

"Our greetings, King Arnbaith."

She looks at him the same way she looked at the hearts. How long has he been like this? Has it been getting worse over time? Just what is happening to him? (Now, the more supernatural his ailment is, the less clear it will be to her historical insights).

"Atorre Marcie, a healer from a distant world."

[Ironsmith]

[Brefaisil]

Marcie will be able to tell immediately that this is no ordinary illness. Putting aside that it had somehow kept him bedridden for well over a decade, there were a few other tells.

For one, most diseases don't leer back at her with a set of vacant, ranine eyes when she examines them. They also don't open their gaping maws and throatily trill at her, forelegs crossed over her patient's heart. They certainly don't aggressively dig into their victim's chest when said victim tries to greet her.

"Well met, miss At-" Arnbaith starts, before his words are drowned out by a series of hacking, wheezing coughs.

The apparition personifying the disease stops its attack, and Arnbaith settles back down, gasping for air. It raises a webby finger to its mouth and hushes her. From this, she'll intrinsically know three things:

It could kill the king. It simply hasn't chosen to yet.

It could tell if Marcie mentioned it, here or elsewhere.

And if she revealed its true nature, it would kill him.

[bc56]

Palace of Orochi
"I understand that, but, uh, when they, uh, want me to, you know, uh, with them? I can't do that. I won't. But, uh, some of them dislike me for it. Especially the ones that, uh, worked for my mother." Sekhmet sighs. She's keenly aware that behind her back, she is often maligned by the beings that are ostensibly her minions.

Sekhmet's Court
A portal opens. "We must go quickly." Sekhmet steps forward. "Before the scent of my kingdom has left him." Scent being metaphorical in this case, but still.

[Fenric]

[Palace of Orochi]

Orochi frowns

"Now that is not reasonable. I will counsel acceptance of their activities overall, but they have no right whatsoever to dictate what you do. Unfortunately, residual favorites of the previous regime can be quite troublesome. Is there some other Lord you could perhaps trade them to? Or do you have the capability to assign those persons to posts that would remove them from court? In the most extreme cases you may need to be prepared to execute them."

he chuckles

"I will admit that when I first took the throne, there were a few irredeemable troublemakers whom I ate rather messily as an example to the rest."

[Ironsmith]

[Sekhmet's Court]

"Wait, now?!" Braon stands up, surprised. "I thought you said you weren't a fighter!" She doesn't sound upset by this; if anything, it's a pleasant surprise. But, like most surprises, she's totally unprepared for it. "Shouldn't we bring a few soldiers at least?" She asks, gesturing to the courtyard around them.

It may not matter, in the end. Braeg is adept at not leaving behind much of a trail when he doesn't want to be found, including while jumping from plane to plane. Sekhmet will probably end up opening a portal to somewhere within a kilometer radius of him; close-ish, but not precise enough to guarantee they'll run into him.

Regardless of how close the portal actually takes them, the sight on the other side won't exactly be encouraging. A starless sky, over an unilluminated ruin of a fortress town. Unseen figures move through the shadows, cowering away from what light is brought with Sekhmet's portal. Aside from them, the place is deserted.

[Earl of Purple]

Prison Realm

The lead hand-dog gives Kiun a thumbs up. Then it clicks its fingers and the hand-dogs with the flails head off towards the Weevil's cell, whilst the other two move past and wait. If Kiun leaves, they'll follow, but they aren't going to go anywhere if she doesn't. They're supposed to escort the visitors, and that's what these two want to do with Kiun. Whilst also making sure she's not the Weevil in disguise, hence why two have left.

[bc56]

Palace of Orochi
"There's one in particular, but, uh, I already did banish her; she, uh, just keeps sneaking into the palace. Uh, I'd rather not kill anyone either." Eating people whole is completely out of the question in Sekhmet's mind.

???
"I am many things," Sekhmet replies engimatically. Really, she's not so much a warrior as a guardian.
But here, in this new world, she has other problems to contend with. If there isn't enough ambient infernal energy for her to draw on, her enhanced, queenly form will decay over time back to her mortal shell. They need to move quickly.

[Ironsmith]

[Pilgrim's Way]

Braon seems to accept that answer and follows Sekhmet through, hugging herself and shivering once they're on the other side of the portal. "Is... is it just me, or is it damn cold out here?"

It's probably just her. It doesn't help that her miniature cloud, which has been following her around and raining on her to keep her cool, had still left her clothes damp and Braon herself vulnerable to the slightest chill.

The street they've ended up on has some rather helpful signage, including a pointed wooden sign identifying this place as "Pilgrim's Way". In one direction, the street leads off to a massive, shadowy stone structure of some kind, with a statue out front, its features indistinct from here. Down the other, the city gates can be seen... or rather, what's left of them. They amount to an oddly-shaped hole in the wall now. And in between, the street is lined with empty market stalls and shops, a few of which have been reduced to rubble.

The figures in the dark continue to surround Sekhmet and Braon, whispering incoherently. It's difficult to tell how many of them there are; their outlines are blurry and obfuscated by the dark. So far, they're keeping their distance, but that could change if the portal closes.

[bc56]

Pilgrim's Way
Sekhmet nods. "It is a little chilly." Her body is adapted for much warmer temperatures.
As the portal slides closed, she raises her hand to call forth a bright globe of fire to hover before her, both for warmth and for light. "You know him better. Which way did he go?

[Ironsmith]

[Pilgrim's Way]

Braon taps a finger to her chin as she considers the options. "Well, he... he always hated cities like this." She says finally. "I doubt he's anywhere within city limits. Which means if we're going to find him, we shouldn't be, either." She points toward the ruined gates. "I doubt that will take us directly to him. But maybe we'll spot a campfire or something. It'd certainly be easy to notice." She rubs her hands together and warms them by Sekhmet's fire, shivering from being cold and wet.

The figures in the dark retreat further away, finally frightened off entirely by the fire. They don't like the prospect of being set alight, apparently.

[bc56]

Pilgrim's Way
Sekhmet follows Braon. She doesn't appear hurried, but at her height, she can easily keep pace. The flame bobs along with the pair. "What is this place? Do you know?" There's also the slight question of how much attention a ten-foot-tall glowing demonic warrior queen attracts. Probably too much, but that's not Sekhmet's concern right now.

[Ironsmith]

[Pilgrim's Way]

"I... don't know, exactly." Braon says, looking at the ruined buildings off the side of the street. "This place gives me the weirdest sense of deja vu. It feels like I've been here before, but I'm not sure I could pl-" She stops and snaps her fingers. "Wait. Yes I can. This is Hallower's Rest. It was one of the first cities I stopped in after I got away from my uncle. Look here." She turns down another street, sitting cross-legged on the corner. "I used to beg off travelers here. A lot of pilgrims came through; a few of them gave alms. It kept me fed for about a week before they discovered I was a fiendling and I had to run." She sighs and shakes her head, standing back up. "Not sure what disaster hit this place, but it couldn't have happened to a nicer town."

[bc56]

Pilgrim's Way
"Oh, uh, should we be in disguise?" Sekhmet's confidence wavers and so does her form, dropping a couple inches of height. "I probably have enough power stored to manage something." It's clear that the change that made her into a warrior queen is beginning to wear off.

[Ironsmith]

[Pilgrim's Way]

"I don't see much point. Look at this place. It's a ghost town. Possibly literally." Braon stands and stretches. "And if we do run into some fiendling-hating zealot out here, I'm pretty sure we could take them." She smiles. "We should be safe for the moment."

That'll be about when a luminous orange eyeball, with a large, slitted pupil, will open up in the darkness behind Braon. There won't be any way to see the creature it's attached to; it's too far back in the dark. But the eye itself is several meters tall; its owner is probably gigantic.

[bc56]

Pilgrim's Way
"Behind you!" Sekhmet shouts, throwing their portable flame forward so it can illuminate whatever is in the darkness.
Hopefully it will still be there and not make Sekhmet look foolish.

[Ironsmith]

[Pilgrim's Way]

The flame will illuminate a fleshy, semi-gelatinous mass, which slowly pulls itself up to its full height, its pupil narrowing as it focuses in on Sekhmet.

Then it turns, so that it can look straight at her with both of its glowing orange eyes, opening its alley-wide mouth to reveal a mess of needly teeth, each as long as Sekhmet is tall. From here, she'll also be able to see the first of many lamprey-like rings of bony growths in its throat, which grind against each other as the creature speaks.

"Fresssssh meat. Ssuch a long time ssince I've had that." The abomination muses, its massive body- sorry, head- raising off the ground as it regards these two travelers. "We don't sssee many of your k-kind in thesse partss. All dead, sso it sseemss..."

Braon quickly backs up behind Sekhmet, regarding the new arrival with a look of terror on her face. "What the hell is that?!" She squeaks, understandably terrified.

[Fenric]

Palace of Orochi
"There's one in particular, but, uh, I already did banish her; she, uh, just keeps sneaking into the palace. Uh, I'd rather not kill anyone either." Eating people whole is completely out of the question in Sekhmet's mind.

Orochi smiles

"I'd rather not have had to resort to that, but sometimes it just seems that sertain people simply demand a more permanent removal. Allowing her to flaunt your Edict of Banishment completely undermines your authority. How can you expect your subjects to obey if they know there are no consequences?

You really only have two choices now: sell her to someone who won't let her escape, or execute her.

My family does have some contact with an arch-devil from whom she would never return, if you truly cannot bring yourself to eliminate her."

[bc56]

Palace of Orochi
"Murder or slavery?" Sekhmet doesn't like either of those options. Really, she's probably too morally upstanding to make a good demon queen. "There has to be a better way. I'm not going to treat people like that."

Pilgrim's Way
"We have no quarrel with you." Sekhmet firmly says. "Allow us to pass and you will be left unharmed." She may be physically smaller than this thing, but Sekhmet is obviously no mere mortal.