Forlorn Hopes and Immortal Evils Lords

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Dru'keth

Lord of the Torture-class cruiser Bloody-handed Prince, Dur'keth is a powerful Dracon of the Splintered Bone, of the spaceborn raiders she is the greatest. Her skill at void combat is uncanny, her captaincy greater than any other Lord of the Kabal. When Archon Kah Berahk takes to the void for a raid it is Dru'keth who holds the vanguard. She operates throughout the Koronus Expanse, Scraming Vortex and even the Calaxis Sector using a tightly held set of webway paths.

Blood Shadow Succubi

Like all Cults the Blood Shadows have a council of three Succubi. And like most Cults two of those graceful, elegant killers are merely glorified Syrens, too powerful to remain Bloodbrides, but no match for the true Queen of the Arena who leads them.

Hazarath: The Queen of the Blood Shadows, called Khaladhkar, the Dragon of Despair.

Leiura: Kythonagh, the Pale Serpent. She wields a pair of pure white Electrocorrosive Whips. She ends most battles without a drop of blood on either. Leiura is a master dissembler who compensates for somewhat reduced physical prowess with manipulation, deception and treachery. It is said that quite a few of the Syrens could defeat her in a straight fight, but the challenge would be actually getting to that fight in the first place. It is not uncommon for her opponents to reach the battlefield exhausted, wounded, poisoned, crippled or not at all; it is an open secret that she has more tentacles than most Tyranids and many of the Dark-kin are in turns fascinated and disturbed by this. She has seen Bella's fumblings along her path and it amuses her; at least, until Bella proves herself a threat...

Thalurath: Harathelth, the Jealous Doom. She uses many weapons but for her most spectacular battles she wields a pair of elegantly wicked Hydra Gauntlets, each the prison of a potent daemonic slave of She-Who-Thirsts. Those closest to the floor can see the faces of the trapped daemons howling in agony as the cunningly wrought grooves of the blades deny them a full tast of the agony they deliver.

Kah Berahk Halfborn

As Archon of the Splintered Bone Kabal he is much like any other Archon: powerful, vicious, cunning, eccentric and deadly. Unlike most though he is a Halfborn. Born in the pits of the Haemonculi and destined for ignominy as a foot solder in a Kabal he carried a burning hatred for his betters and unlike other Halfborn he had skill to stoke that ambition.

He rose slowly and steadily within the Kabal, demonstrating his lethal gifts against the Kabal's rivals within the Dark City and then winning the privelege of going on realspace raids. There he further accrued power and spoils to become a Sybarite, the highest position most Halfborns ever attain. But that was not enough for the young warrior's desire and he began to amass greater and greater power, becoming a cult of personality within the Kabal until he was as powerful as any Dracon, yet without the prestige, fear or respect that the Trueborn lieutenants are freely given.

More than anything he desired that status so he worked long years toward that goal until he was the greatest of the Archon's lieutenants but still called Sybarite and scorned as a Halfborn. Like a human heretic he raged as if his faceless birth in the Coven's dungeons, purpose built by a master of Fleshcraft was somehow less worthy than the Trueborn who spawn like the Mon'keigh and enter the world helpless and weak. It was obvious to any who knew him that Kah Berahk was jealous, but he was a Halfborn and their talents are notoriously beneath the skills of the Trueborn...

Except his weren't.

Duke N'mautan

The eccentric Duke has not left his fortified demi-spire for a full century. He directs his Kabal's raids and schemes from afar, with his cryptic orders interpreted and (sometimes lethally) debated by a circle of underlings. The Duke, to the exclusion of almost everything else, spends his time perfecting and testing a cruel and strange hobby.

Sixty years ago, some small village on some backwater feudal world caught the Duke's eye. In a single night he spirited it and all its inhabitants, down to the last blade of grass and grain of sand, into the depths of his spire. He constructed an artificial sun to mimic their own; an artificial sky and artificial fields and artificial weather.

For the past sixty years, the human inhabitants of the village have lived the same day over and over. The Duke invents increasingly complex and horrific scenarios. He has studied every inhabitant in excruciating (and often visceral) detail; he knows how to manipulate small events to provoke heresy, violence, cannibalism, insanity, or wanton cruelty. Some say that the Duke uses the village to model his political ambitions. Others say that he enjoys killing the inhabitants every night and replacing them with memory-wiped clones in the morning. The cloning process is not perfect, and strange maladies and deformities are slowly entering the village. Whether or not the Duke knows or cares is debatable.

In any case, Duke N'mautan is both petty and thoughtful; cruel and kind, changeable and inflexible in his beliefs. Not even his closest retainers can predict how he will act from one moment to the next.

Haemonculex Karaxan

While gender is a moot point among the grotesque haemonculi, Karaxan is (apparently) female. She wears a freshly peeled skinsuit every day, deformed limbs and twisted flesh barely concealed by a cooling sleeve of meat. Karaxan is a dabbler, experimenting in many techniques without searching for perfection or recognition. Her appetites, both for souls and for slaves, are currently modest, but she has several new ideas that would require an exponential increase in both.

Aside from a few twitching Grotesques, some assistants, and a few hulking war-monstrosities, Karaxan can bring little to the table as a war host. On the other hand, her endlessly inventive selection of toxins, tactics, and tricks is certainly worth at least a cursory investigation.

Falhiad, her Acothyst, and Algol her Talos are her favorite pets.