Succubus

At the pinnacle of every Wych Cult stands a Succubus, the ruling elite of the arena-sisterhoods and among the most accomplished murderers the galaxy has ever produced. Impossibly graceful and cruelly beautiful, a Succubus stalks through carnage as though born to it, and each is a celebrated idol of the Commorrite crowds, her every killing stroke adored by an audience drunk on bloodshed. So absolute is their supremacy in the art of close slaughter that a duel with a Succubus is less a fight than an execution rendered with terrible elegance.

By ancient custom each cult is nominally governed by three such Archites, though in truth only one wields real authority; the other two circle her constantly, forever seeking to eclipse their rival with ever more magnificent feats of butchery. Collectively the sisterhood name them the ynnitach, the brides of death, and the title admits no exception, for a Succubus is always female. Even those who ascend to the rank from a male form are remade in body and identity to match it, so old and inviolable is the tradition.

A Succubus does not content herself with presiding over the spectacles of her cult. To sharpen her lethal edge, to humble a rival, or simply for pleasure, she leads her Wyches on raids into realspace, dancing through storms of fire with contemptuous ease. Into that dance she carries the signature arms of her station: the venom blade whose lightest scratch is death, the agoniser that floods a victim with unbearable pain, the electrocorrosive whip that cracks like living lightning. Each kill is a performance, and the galaxy her endless arena.