A D&D party made entirely for my own amusement.

The room was dimly lit. Nine figures stood surrounding what can only be described as an altar of sorts. Red, dripping, and shaped like a grotesque claw sprung from the very ground. It was oozing menace.

The first one, a female Tiefling, barely out of her teens, seemed nervous. Her name, known to all, was Naphi. The fresh recruit, just off the streets, picked up and brought in solemnly for her devilish bloodline. In this group, she was assigned the bottom rank. A ragged look haunted her clothing. Daggers, lots of them, hung in her belt, and one would suspect that she had others hidden away on her body, too.

The second one, a large red female Dragonborn, wearing no form of armor or weaponry, just plain clothes, worn from travel, stood tall and at ease, familiar with the ceremony. A relaxed demeanor, as a predator awaiting the prey, skillful without boasting, marked her prim physical form. Her name was Kocoria Kaldar, and she was not from these lands, but a valued member of the group, and trusted, none the less.

The third, a being of what could almost be described as living fire, was wearing chain mail and multiple weapons - metal only - visibly. He was a male Fire Genasi with the name Scoria, and his form made it difficult to look at him for too long. The sly grin told the others that he was aware - and enjoyed - this fact greatly.

The fourth, a Human female, clad in religious vestments with infernal runes written upon it, stood rank and at attention, eagerness and expectations shining through her eyes. A familiar, a small, orange imp, perched on one of her shoulders, glaring gleefully at those present with yellow, hateful eyes. The woman seemed utterly undisturbed by this. Her name, Talzurlien Truthgust, was no laughing matter.

The fifth, a Goliath clad in full plate mail with a large, sinister looking greataxe complimented with bloodstains at his back, had a peculiar glint in his eyes. His name was Vagal Inulaga, but known only as "Masterfrighter" to the others - all except one. The man reeked of an obvious want for gold and gems - preferably rubies - left unsatisfied.

The sixth, a clean shaven male Hill Dwarf, wearing armor of red scales and with a warhammer at his side, was Thomand. A number of strange and colorful tattoos marked his dark tanned and sun kissed skin - what was shown, for his face was hidden beneath a feathered tribal mask. His bulging muscles were shivering with intensity.

The seventh, a female Tabaxi, also had a familiar, but not on her shoulder. Hidden beneath her expensive clothing was a spider that was not really a spider, staying still as only a spider can be. The tail, lazily swinging back and forth, did not hamper the elegant outfit. Known to most of the group as Hidden Treasure, only two knew her true name: Cloaking Dagger. Unsurprisingly, she wore a dagger, but surprisingly, it was not cloaked. Her spellbook, however, was just as well hidden as her familiar. A small crystal, glowing with a dull blood red hue, can be seen hanging around her neck in a thin golden necklace.

The eight, a male Rock Gnome, obviously the smallest of the group, had a redwood lute swung across his back. His frown of disdain and disappointment was aimed at the Tiefling. His clothing, sturdy and without tear, was still nothing out of the ordinary. His cold, piercing eyes of pale hellfire only complimented his hard mouth. His name was Corlin, and he was a man accustomed to getting what he wanted - when he wanted it.

The ninth, a female Half-Elf, had her intelligent eyes sweeping across the other eight, looking at each and every one, hands held out to the side and slightly upwards, as if the master of the ceremony. Dressed in common clothes, nothing marked her as the undisputed leader of the group. But she was. Her name, Pristine, was given to her by hopeful parents that had not survived in order to fully learn of the fall of their daughter. Authority and magic were seeting from her. She, and she alone, knew all their secrets. Bound by bonds and wrought by dark deeds, their united prisms cast the true color of the realms below.

Just as Asmodeus sat on the throne in the Ninth Hell, so too did Pristine control this infernal cult. And their patron, in more ways than one, was the Archduke Mammon. Nine senior members in a strict hierarchy above the secret cult. Now, the summoning was about to begin...