The Original Sins Cartel is an organisation of ten of the most productive and free-willed succubi in the Abyss. It serves as a network to share information (rarely) and to distribute enough mortal souls to various lords of the Abyss to allow the succubi to retain free reign of their own personal domains (mainly). While the main purpose of the Cartel is just to claim more souls for the Abyss, a couple of the Cartel’s members actually use the name as a registered business to earn money for themselves and the others in the Cartel.
The Cartel was founded about 1000 years ago by three succubi: Chiryn, Mistress of Pleasure and Pain; Red Shroud, Poisoner and Ruler of Broken Reach; and Maretta, Lady of the Counting House. These three had all recently come to power in their personal domains, and also all had decided early on to avoid the disruption of the Blood War and instead disrupt the Abyss in their favor. Through the network that all succubi barely maintain, they managed to hear of each other and their rumored goals. Chiryn was the first to broach idea to the others; they soon decided that it was a good idea and went in on it. The first couple of centuries were shaky as each of the three tried to use the others for their personal benefit. Then, they realized that they actually gained more power if they worked together. It was at this time that the Cartel was truly formed.
Over the centuries, the three co-founders have actually become as close friends as tanar’ri can ever be. Through the souls collected by the network, they have managed to become permanent lords in their own right (even though Chiryn and Maretta are technically vassals to other lords). Chiryn is the main force behind OSC’s activities, as well as the one who picks out key souls to be corrupted and taken into the Abyss. Red Shroud’s importance lies in the fact that she controls the Abyss side of the portal from Plague-Mort, and can thus ease the influx of souls and the traffic of other succubi. Maretta is important because of her ties to Graz’zt in Azzagrat, as well as the fact that she runs the largest (and probably only) casino in the Abyss. This allows her to gather money and other Abyssal resources from other tanar’ri for use by the Cartel.
Also over the long history of the Cartel, other like-minded succubi have been added to the “board of directors”. Currently, there are ten succubi who form the Cartel. Due their activities, just over 10% of all souls brought to the Abyss are the work of OSC. Each succubi is a unique individual with special talents, powers, specialties, and goals.
Recently, other lords have finally taken notice of what the temptresses of the Cartel are doing. Some of them want to see this organisation fall apart and be destroyed. They are looking for some way to break the Cartel’s hold on soul traffic. The Cartel is aware of these plots and has created a counter-plot. The most recent addition to the Cartel (Nari, 50 years ago) is actually a pre-planned scapegoat. Being the most openly ambitious and obvious of the group, she will make the perfect sacrificial lamb to satisfy the plotting lords. Of course, Nari has her own plans of betrayal…
“Now I’m looking for an Original Sin,— Meatloaf, “Original Sin”
One with a twist and a bit of a spin.
Since I’ve done all the old ones
’till they’ve all been done in,
Now I’m looking for an Original Sin.”
Members of the Cartel
in approximate order of membership
Mistress of Pleasure and Pain
(Planar succubus tanar’ri magus [she/her] / CE)
Chiryn’s a blood who’s both the scientist and the artist, meticulous to a fault, craftin’ experiences that walk that fine line between agony and ecstasy with a artisan’s dedication. This tanar’ri’s got herself a nice little patch of the Abyss to call her own, a ten-mile realm where pain meets pleasure in an unyieldin’ cycle. She’s a vassal to the infamous Cismok Gelugon-Smiter, but don’t think that makes her a pushover, oh no, this cutter’s got her freedom, payin’ her dues with a steady stream of souls for the ol’ basher. Not your average succubus, she takes a methodical approach to her dark arts, studyin’ the sciences of seduction and corruption with the precision of a master scholar. She ain’t just an artist, no, she’s a visionary in her field, pushin’ boundaries and takin’ names, she’s accomplished as a warrior and spellslinger too.
Imagine a lady in her late 20’s, a true force to be reckoned with, emanating strength and command with every step she takes. She’s got black wings stretchin’ out from her back, a contrast against her silver-white skin, a hint of the exotic in her straight, midnight-black hair that flows gracefully. Her piercing black eyes are windows to a mind sharpest a blade, cuttin’ through to the heart of any being to find what truly drives ’em to pleasure or pain. She dresses in the finest silk, a cloth that hints at untold secrets and forbidden delights. And while you might think she’s just another temptress lost in the Abyss, you’d be a right fool to underestimate Chiryn, berk. She’s an original sinner, a co-founder of the Cartel, and in her realm, she’s the law, the judge, and the executioner, a master of her dark and twisted craft. So, be warned, cutter, if you find yerself in her presence, you’re not just meetin’ a mastermind of the forbidden arts, but a connoisseur of the Abyssal pleasures and pains, with a knowledge so precise, it’s almost… scientific.
Poisoner and Ruler of Broken Reach
(Planar succubus tanar’ri wizard [she/her] / CE)
Bearing an infamous name that’s synonymous with despair and utter ruin, she’s a force to be reckoned with in the brutal politics of the Abyss. She’s the other half of the infamous Original Sins Cartel, mind, sharin’ the stage with Chiryn. Picture a dame in her late twenties, a livin’ embodiment of ethereal beauty with a sinister edge, draped in delicate layers of red gauze and filmy veils that whisper secrets of death and despair with each flutter. This cutter has a knack for poison, a true artist of the trade, concoctin’ deadly brews that can bring the mightiest to their knees with just a drop. She’s got her fingers deep in Abyssal politics, a mind sharper than a blade and a knowledge so deep it’d make the most seasoned of scholars blush. She’s all about expandin’ her reach, solidifyin’ her rule over the sorrow-filled streets of Broken Reach, a place of lost hopes and shattered dreams. She ain’t one for subtle seduction, nah, when she sets her sights on a soul, she takes it by force, draggin’ ‘em through the depths of despair and madness before claimin’ her prize. Behind those fiery red eyes, which match her curly flame-red hair that cascades down to her waist, lies a calculating mind of a wizard, a mistress of the arcane arts with a penchant for cruelty. You can try to resist her, berk, but remember, in the face of Red Shroud’s ethereal beauty and deadly skills, very few have managed to keep their sanity intact.
Lady of the Counting House
(Planar succubus tanar’ri rogue [she/her] / CE)
Ah, Lady Maretta, the golden gal of the grimy layers of the Abyss, standin’ tall as one of the big shots in the dreaded Original Sins Cartel. She cuts a dazzling sight with her tanned skin and shiny wings that mirror the fortune she oversees in her realm. The Counting House, her golden goose, is situated in the ever-tumultuous 46th layer of the Abyss known as the Azzagrat, is a haven for every vice you could think of. It’s where the greedy come to indulge in a bit of gamblin’, drinkin’, and a whole slew of other sins that’d make hardened bashers blush. She’s got a sharp eye, the dexterity and grace of a rogue with the elegance to match; envision her in golden lamé evening gowns, shimmerin’ under the ghastly glow of her realm, adorned with more jewellery than a basher could fathom. Blue-eyed and blond-haired, she’s a picture of glittering excess in a place of darkness. The lady has a soft spot for corruptin’ mortals through their deepest, darkest vices, drawing them in with the allure of her city of sins. But don’t mistake her for a power-hungry demon, nah, she’s content with her slice of the Abyssal pie, wantin’ nothin’ more than to keep her domain out of the clutches of the bloody Blood War, a bit of neutrality in a plane of endless conflict. A haven for those looking to escape with a heavy purse and a smile, though be warned, cutter, in Maretta’s golden halls, the house always wins.
of the Fated
(Planar succubus tanar’ri fighter [she/her] / Fated / CE)
Meerena is a savvy and sly factioneer in the Fated, a gal with a heart as cold as the steel she wields as a seasoned warrior. She was the first to join the ranks after the notorious founders, and she’s carved out quite the niche for herself, she has. Imagine a bird with a sharp mind, always a step ahead, advising one of the big-shot lords in the deepest trenches of the Abyss, masterminding plots with a mind sharper than a blade.
Her true home, though, lies not in the Abyss but amidst the hustle and bustle of the mortal realms where her business empire sprawls like a giant spider’s web. Picture her, a beauty in her early twenties, blessed with a mane of curled blond hair and eyes as blue as the ocean’s depths, a vision with wings shimmering silver. Meerena is the embodiment of dangerous allure, donned in translucent silk attire that’d remind ya of an harem from the fairy tales, her every movement a dance of grace and danger. She’s the nemesis of merchants and businessmen, leading them down a dark path of violence and brutality, convincing them to employ the most ruthless strategies against their rivals, her whispers sowin’ seeds of greed and treachery that germinate into full-blown wars of commerce.
Oh, and this girl ain’t picky, nah, she’ll take collateral too, snatching up whoever she fancies if her original target eludes her grasp. She’s the devil on the shoulder of every aspiring merchant prince, encouraging the worst in them, indulging in the misery and ruin that follows in her wake, with a smile that hides a heart as cold and unforgiving as the Abyss itself. A true power broker, operating behind the scenes, with the ability to change fortunes with a mere suggestion; Meerena is a force to be reckoned with.
of the Seductive Magics
(Planar succubus tanar’ri sorcerer [she/her] / CE)
Now there’s a name that resonates with whispered promises of secrets, the weaver of seductive magics with a penchant for the Prime’s mages. Nestled in the mountains of a forsaken layer of the Abyss stands a small yet impervious keep, a place where shadows dance with the whisper of secrets, and it’s here where Latana spins her complex webs of deceit and temptation. You see, she’s the tantalising force lurkin’ in the back of the minds of mortal wizards, a siren call they can hardly resist, seducing them with promises of magic so powerful, so forbidden, it’d make a basher’s head spin.
A visual delight to beholders, Latana blossoms, adorned with curly black hair kissin’ her shoulders, each strand kissed by hints of crimson that mirror the fiery hue of her wings, streaked with shadows deeper than the darkest Abyssal night. Her red eyes, oh they hold stories, cutter. There’s always a lotus blossom nestled in her hair, a beacon of sultry beauty amidst the chaos, her attire a cascade of red that drape sensually around her svelte frame, a shawl tied nonchalantly around her hips accentuating a predatory grace that’s both enchanting and dangerous. She doesn’t jest when it comes to her craft; she is an accomplished wizard. She isn’t above using magic to play dirty either, she arranges scenarios where the most steadfast of souls find themselves forced to wield the very magics they swore to avoid, leading them down a path of no return, one paved with darkness, treachery, and the seductive whispers of power untamed.
of the Doomguard
(Planar succubus tanar’ri fighter [she/her] / Doomguard / CE)
Deep in the cavernous bowels of the Abyss lies a mining town under the tight rein of the shrewd and calculating Saskia, a succubus who’s got her fingers in pies more numerous than a prime’s got foolish dreams. She’s the one with the inside track on all the Doomguard’s dealings in the Abyss, providing them with a steady supply of that tanar’ri red ore and weapons. Don’t be fooled by her youthful appearance, or those green eyes of hers, they’re like twin pools of greed, always scheming, always plotting, ready to seize upon the any weakness of mortals who dare to step into the business arena with her. Aye, she’s got a soft spot for business types, leading them down the path of self-destruction with the sweetest of whispers, encouraging insider trading, blackmail, and all manners of unseemly deeds till they’ve tied their own noose. And then, like a spider stalking its prey, she buys out their business, adding it to her ever-growin’ empire of doom and gloom. She ain’t just playing the game, cutter, she’s writing the rules, with a cold-hearted business acumen backed up by the strength of a battle-hardened fighter. Aye, to deal with Saskia is to dance with danger itself, a gamble where the stakes are as high as the rewards are tempting.
of the Troubled Mind
(Planar succubus tanar’ri psychic [she/her] / Sign of One / CE)
This dame who’s a bit of a mastermind, preying on those poor cutters blessed – or cursed, depending on who you ask – with psionic abilities. She’s got a fixation on the mind’s intricate labyrinths, delving deep into the psyche of her victims, unraveling secrets and luring the poor sods with whispers of hidden knowledge and unfathomable powers that echo in the caverns of their own minds.
She’s a sight to behold, young-looking, yet wielding the kinda powers that’d make ancient scholars green with envy. Don’t let her petite frame fool ye, she’s got a presence that dominates, adorned with skin the colour of twilight and eyes as black as a raven’s feather, holding depths of untold secrets and mysterious arts. Tonja favours the most vibrant of silk robes. She’s a chameleon, this one, also able to take on the visage of a githyanki or githzerai, maintaining her beguiling looks to draw in the unsuspecting gith. And those wings of hers, they’re a sight, black as the Abyss with white highlights that betray a glimmer of something more, a hint of the forbidden knowledge she offers to those willing to dance with the darkness. Now, I gotta warn ye, cutter, treadin’ paths with Tonja is a dance with temptation itself, a dance where the mind is both the battlefield and the prize, a swirling vortex of desires, fears, and secrets, all lain bare under her psionic gaze.
(Planar succubus tanar’ri assassin [she/her] / CE)
A blade in the dark who’s got more in common with a keen-edged dagger than a siren of the Abyss — Stiletto the Enforcer, a name that sends shivers down the spines of the toughest berks in the business, is a newer face amongst the Original Sins Cartel but has quickly carved out a reputation of being ruthless and unforgiving.
A small yet gracefully lethal figure draped in a pitch-black silk suit that merges with the shadows, a true master of disguise and infiltration, her appearance echoes the deadliest of ninjas from prime material legends, a whisper in the wind with eyes that pierce through the darkness with a cold and detached precision. This cutter’s a far cry from her seductress peers, dismissing the art of seduction for the sharp certainty of cold steel, with a fondness for inciting the most violent of blood feuds, planting seeds of revenge in the hearts of the mournful, setting the stage for tragedies more biting than the sharpest blade.
The grim wanderer is a master of manipulation, a true artist when it comes to framing innocents and weaving intricate webs of deceit and violence, leaving trails of evidence to keep the cycle of vengeance spinning ever onwards, a perpetual machine of anguish and death. She’s not one for intimacy, this one; no, she’s got a mind sharper than her countless blades, always scheming, always plotting, a creator of chaos from the shadows, a puppeteer pulling strings soaked in blood and betrayal.
(Planar succubus tanar’ri fighter [she/her] / CE)
Safira is a cutter who’s newer on the scene but no less treacherous. She’s a towering figure, with limbs chiseled from years in the brutal wilds, with an intensity in her red eyes that could make a basher’s blood run cold.
This isn’t a lady you’d want to trifle with; she’s got the heart of a hunter, a predator in every sense. She’s raw, untamed, a force of nature that seeks out the undervalued, the overlooked — the kind of souls others might pass by without a second thought. Her preferred prey? Goblinkind, orcs, ogres, ye know, the ones that most demons consider lesser pickings. Yet there’s a certain… brutish artistry in her approach, a merciless huntress who seeks to carve her niche in the Abyss with relentless fervor, approaching her quarry with a primitive, predatory grace. I’ve heard stories, ye know, whispers in the wind of a figure stormin’ through the wilderness, unstoppable, fierce as the harshest storm, her stone-coloured wings a harbinger of doom for those who dare stand in her path. She’s a force to be reckoned with, carvin’ out her legacy with the ruthless determination of a predator at the top of the food chain.
(Planar succubus tanar’ri rogue [she/her] / CE)
Ah, Nari the Favoured, the freshest face of the Cartel, a bit of a paradox, that one — both the darling and the sacrificial lamb, if you catch my drift. Picture a gal brimming with youthful arrogance, sporting a mane of blondish-pink hair, so spiky it might well be a weapon in itself, and wings, oh the wings, more garish than the gaudiest boudoir in Sigil.
Now, don’t go thinking she’s some naive young thing, oh no, she’s got the guile of a veteran cutpurse, a thief with ambitions bigger than Pazunia. Some say she’s a prodigy, a wunderkind with a knack for soul-snatching that’s nigh unrivalled. It’s a peculiar sort of dance she does, flitting from victim to victim with a seductive grace that belies her youthful appearance.
But it ain’t all rosy for this one. She’s walking on a razor’s edge, see, her very success makes her a target, a scapegoat for the others of the Cartel, a precarious position where one misstep could see her fallin’ from grace quicker than a blood can cry “betrayal”. Underneath that vibrant exterior, there’s a mind buzzin’ with plots, grand designs that’d put the best of the Guvners to shame. She’s eyein’ the throne, aiming to usurp the bigwigs one day, maybe even grasp that elusive title of Power.
She’s driven, but let’s face it, it’s a dangerous game she’s playin’, a high-stakes gamble in a den full of vipers. Still, you’ve got to admire the chutzpah, the sheer gall of it all. They say in the grand city of Sigil that there ain’t no room for the timid, and it seems young Nari took that to heart, eying the top spot with a fierce determination that’s as terrifying as it is admirable. Only time will tell if this brash young thing will rise to rule or fall from grace, a vivid streak of pink plummeting into the Abyss. Be careful, Nari, for in the dance of power, the floor is slippery and the fall is long, berk.
Source: Original by Ken Lipka, reimagined by Jon Winter-Holt, mimir.net