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"Haemonculi are deranged flesh-sculptors that dwell in the dank bowels of Commorragh. They are master torturers, expert poisoners and dark alchemists that are capable of transcending death itself. Their ability to alter the bodies of their victims to create obscene horrors wrought of flesh and bone is an invaluable dark gift, with many of their creations proven to be essential assets when war is waged in realspace."
Check GW website to compare with mini I based on:
Some denizens of Dark City Commorragh abandoned their sadistic lifestyles and joined the Ynnari for new hope. But are their motives totally selfless? Here are Archon Teniria and her loyal Incubi and Wych.
Morgroth had always had to fight the little bit harder for what he got in his pitiful excuse for a life. Vat-born chattel thrown out as a bad batch. Latched onto the scrag-end of a hellion gang. Hunted for sport by bored Kabalites. Thrown to the dogs in the arena. At each and every step life had kicked him down. There was only one reason he was still breathing. When Commorragh kicked him down, he kicked the f*cker back.
Finally. Finally he had caught a break. For the first time in his existence the winds of realspace whipped across his face as he clung to the Whipcrown skimmer, taking pot-shots at the mon-keigh soldiers scrambling to their defence. The feeling of superiority was intoxicatingly novel, and lasted until the precise moment the krak missile impacted the side of his transport.
Heat seared across his frame as the Raider impacted the ground at speed. Dragging himself from the wreckage, stabbing pains from every movement threatened to overwhelm his senses. Fighting against the rising dark of unconsciousness he snapped off a few errant shots form his rifle before the gene-altered warriors of the mon-keigh were upon them. He barely had time to raise his sword before the first blow came down, slewing off sideways from his parry. The second came shortly afterwards, striking down onto his chest, cracking ribs and plowing him into the ground.
The victorious Astartes strode off to seek its next target, but Morgroth wasn't done yet. Lying in a slowly expanding pool of his own blood, a single spark of thought erupted through the blackness. Not yet. No way anyone thought he was worth regeneration. Like hell he would give his rivals the satisfaction. With a gutteral bubbling grunt he rolled up onto his knees, armoured undersuit working overtime to restitch over the gaping wound in his torso, injecting a cocktail of stabilising drugs into his system. Coughing up more vital fluids he used his sword to push himself to his feet. Roaring like a wounded animal he thundered towards his adversary, flecks of blood loosing themselves from his jaw. With strength that surprised him even through his fury he hurled his sword-arm down, cleaving both ceramite and flesh to lodge the blade halfway through its torso.
At this point any semblance of self-preservation had deserted him. He cared not that fully three quarters of his fellows had been butchered in the assault so far. He was an avatar of bloody destruction. A ceramite fist broke bone beneath its blow, but barely registered on his senses. A splinter rifle snatched from the ground was swung like a battleaxe, embedding its monomolecular-edged stock deep into his assailant's chest.
Bloodied and shaking, he clambered to the peak of the corpse-pile around him, letting out a bellowing shout of rage at the world around him, eyes bloodshot and wild. He hadn't the faintest clue what the conclusion of the battle was. He didn't care. The universe had kicked him down and he'd kicked back so hard it had broken beneath his heel. He had been weighed and measured and he had conquered all. This battlefield would not be his end. This battlefield would be his beginning.
Desde la fundación de Commorragh, hace ya varios milenios, las arenas se han cubierto de la sangre de millones de guerreros. Cada arena ha sido testigo de infinidad de espectáculos de perversidad y muerte, pero hay un combate de gladiadores preferido que nunca deja de tener popularidad: las salvajes cazas de los Señores de las Bestias.
Cuando acompañan una incursión en el espacio real, los Señores de las Bestias planean sobre el campo de batalla, acosando a sus salvajes bestias para que desgarren y mutilen todo con lo que se cruzan, mientras que ellos, aniquilan todo lo que se les acerca demasiado.
Over the millennia since Commorragh's founding its sand-filled arenas have drunk the blood of millions. Each arena has witnessed countless spectacles of perversity and death, but there is one gladiatorial favourite that never fades in popularity - the wild hunts of the Beastmasters.
When accompanying a realspace raid, the Beastmasters will hover over the battlefield, goading their ferocious beasts to rend and maim anything nearby, whilst personally engaging in the wholesale slaughter of anything that gets too close to them.
Why did I desert? I'll tell you why. They didn't even give me a name. 'Warborn', is what they called me. One of thousands upon thousands, dragged from the vats of Commorragh, dressed in the uniform of Craftworld life and thrown into the meat-grinder of their pointless wars. I gave myself my name the day I deserted. Do you know what Ilgaith means? No longer faceless...
Deep in the bowels of Commorragh, a metallic clatter echoed through the depths as one of Rakarth's servile units dropped its workload. Searing white light burned through its neurones as its life flashed before its eyes. Birth and early years on Craftworld Angvellaith, railing against its oppressive atmosphere. Tears of his mother as he left to follow the Outcast Path. First firefight aboard the Corsair Corvette The Shadow Lingers in Twilight. The terrible debt he accrued with the twisted haemonculi. The subtle psychological conditioning worming into his mind as he sold himself to servitude. Dullness of sensation as he carried out his masters wishes decade after decade. Death and resurrection, over and over.
It all burned in blinding clarity as memories reasserted themselves. Feeling flowed through his aching limbs. Psychic potential blossomed in his cerebelli. One face filled his newfound vision: Yvraine. He knew he had felt the kiss of death and the rush of resurrection many times before. However...this time...he was reborn.
Commorragh is a dark and dangerous place! This is my interpretation of my Kabal parade ground! this is where i will be displaying my Arcon Retinue and some selected troops.
The base is 18" long x 10" wide x 2.5" at its highest point at the wall! and is made etirely of foam board.
I shaped the foam of the 3 stepped pieces and glued them together with caulk Filler, I then covered the whole thing in 2 layers of the same caulk filler! this gave it a smooth but rippled effect.
The floor layout was pressed in with a hot craft knife, the kabal symbo; in the centre is raised card and the white part is also carved into the foam and filled back with skull white paint!
The Haemonculous Coven symbol on the left is of my own design also carved into the foam.
The Wytch Coven symbol on the right is from the Coven of Strife(Lelith Hesperax) also carved into the foam!
The small arched step at the rear is where my Arcon will be stood the ornate frame at the back is made of 2 keelblades, the centre bars are to be painted like tubes of green poison like the vessels you find on Groteques and pain engines.
I intend to fit the whole base into a wooden plinth!
have a look at the following pictures see what you think!!
Dysjunction Below - Part One:
The dysjunction sent colossal tremours through the very bedrock of Commorragh. Towers crumbled as ripples cascaded through reality. Gaping tooth-lined chasms opened up beneath the ground, spewing forth great legions of daemons into the stricken city. Even Ynneadlidh, far far beneath the beseiged streets was in danger. Gnawing gnashing eyeless daemons flooded its pitch-black tunnels, skittering out from the cracks in the fabric of the realm. The haemonculi were no strangers to military forays, but never before in their history had they come close to anything approaching mobilisation.
Desde la fundación de Commorragh, hace ya varios milenios, las arenas se han cubierto de la sangre de millones de guerreros. Cada arena ha sido testigo de infinidad de espectáculos de perversidad y muerte, pero hay un combate de gladiadores preferido que nunca deja de tener popularidad: las salvajes cazas de los Señores de las Bestias.
Cuando acompañan una incursión en el espacio real, los Señores de las Bestias planean sobre el campo de batalla, acosando a sus salvajes bestias para que desgarren y mutilen todo con lo que se cruzan, mientras que ellos, aniquilan todo lo que se les acerca demasiado.
Over the millennia since Commorragh's founding its sand-filled arenas have drunk the blood of millions. Each arena has witnessed countless spectacles of perversity and death, but there is one gladiatorial favourite that never fades in popularity - the wild hunts of the Beastmasters.
When accompanying a realspace raid, the Beastmasters will hover over the battlefield, goading their ferocious beasts to rend and maim anything nearby, whilst personally engaging in the wholesale slaughter of anything that gets too close to them.
After almost 200 years of exile and reclusion, the Farseer was found by his old friend - Howling Banshee Exarch Eyla. She told him about the Ynnari, a new sect dedicated to the Aeldari god of the dead, promising hope and rebirth to Aeldari civilization. Then the Farseer sent a call to his home Craftworld, his friend from the Harlequin Masque of the Grim Flame and even to the Dark City of Commorragh. Several Aeldari from all factions found his hideout, and now he needs to build new sections to accommodate a military base. The Gyrinx here is Murzinx, the son of Murzion who was the Farseer's pet back in M41.
"Why did I desert? I'll tell you why. They didn't even give me a name. 'Warborn', is what they called me. One of thousands upon thousands, dragged from the vats of Commorragh, dressed in the uniform of Craftworld life and thrown into the meat-grinder of their pointless wars. I gave myself my name the day I deserted. Do you know what Ilgaith means? No longer faceless..." - Ilgaith the Outcast
Little is known of Khaharkyth's early history, only that he started life as a vat-born slave destined for the arenas. He rose out of obscurity leading a coup within the Wych Cult of the Sicklekin, butchering his captors and leaving a trail of blood all the way out of the arenas. Attracting waifs and strays from all over Commorragh, and leveraging his ties with the new rulers of his former Wych Cult, he founded the Kabal of the Whipcrown.
One of the things these guys have let me do is scratch an itch that I've been feeling for a while. It's a bit of a trope in war-settings that the worlds are completely devoid of children (understandably). Things usually take a step towards the gritty and the realistic if they do include them, which seems right up the INQ28-style street.
It also gives a valuable little glimpse that the galaxy might not be 'only war'. Interwoven with the warfare and strife are countless billions of families just trying to survive in a wartorn dystopian future.
For these eldar it's especially poignant as eldar children are so few and far between. Discovering you're with child when you're a vat-born clone with a slim chance of survival would be a bedrock-solid reason to desert. Also, it's a little suggestion that there might be more to Outcasts than just eldar deciding they want a gap-year from the Path system. There are eldar living outside the safety of the craftworlds or Commorragh (through choice or necessity), surviving against the odds.
Dysjunction Below - Part Two:
Vast legions of wracks poured forth into the tunnels, their odd sidling gait belying the surgical precision with which they fought. Hulking beasts of foreign flesh rampaged through the myriad winding corridors, but still the daemonic horde pressed onwards. For the first time in milennia, the twisted denizens of low Commorragh felt the prickle of fear on the back of their necks. Half-formed experiments were unleashed, some wildly effective, others disappointingly incapable.
Curious, Khaharkyth mused as he wrenched his sword from the burning corpse of a daemon. He hadn't felt this exhilarated, this invigorated, this alive in centuries. Not since his early days in the arena. "I think it's the element of risk," the tinny voice of Wilson added from his hindbrain. "When was the last time death had a semblance of permanence to it?". Khaharkyth paused for a second, nodding sagely. The insight was well made.
"Welcome to Commorragh!" he bellowed jovially, turning to face the yawning chasm above, "I know a very nice opiate den just around the corner. If you can make it there before I hack your legs off you can have one of my playthings."
Dysjunctions are fun, he thought as Commorragh burned around him. We should have these more often.
Ben Counter takes his penchant for gruesomely dark and sinister stories into the drukhari city of Commorragh, where horror awaits...
Couple of Incubi to have a shufty at. They're a slight departure in the way they're done compared to the Kabalite Warriors and Wyches. Base coat 1:1:2 Dark Angel:Enchanted Blue:Black (Henceforth christened "Commorragh Black", but I used an old pot of Jade Green for the first highlight, it's darker and richer than my "Kabalite Green" (2:3 Dark Angel Green:Enchanted Blue). Highlight is then the final mixed colour I use (Wych Cult Green) I forget the mix off the top of my head. It's something like 6:3:1 Rotting Flesh:Kabalite Green:Goblin Green, but I wouldn't swear to it.
Faces are Astronomican grey, highlighted white, then with a shadow of Billious Green
Airbrushing fun. Over a base of black, I used a fair coat of my mixed Commorragh Black, then a light coat of Kabalite Black. It got a bit too heavy in places, so I reloaded with black, and just dulled some of the shadowed areas back, I like what I've got so far though!
(Historia alienígena de Warhammer 40k)
🎼 www.youtube.com/watch?v=AcdRrUcUU-w&ab_channel=unfait...
Las “Wyches Drukhari” o “Hekatarii” son hembras “xenos” que pertenecen al culto de gladiadoras que se deleitan con el dolor y el sufrimiento que puedan ocasionar a otras razas inferiores, su estilo marcial es tan versátil y único que ningún humano podría igualar sus proeza y velocidad en batalla; El entrenamiento de las brujas elfo comienza en las arenas sangrientas de “Commorragh” ( la ciudad del pecado élfico) donde las mejores debutantes demuestran su válida al enfrentar otras razas y bestias cautivas como Orkos y Tiranidos donde la vencedora realizara un espectáculo de violencia increíble que dejara saciado los deseos de un publico que disfruta con el sadismo súbito. (aunque parezca bellos elfos las “brujas” son mas altas que un humano promedio y utilizan “psicofármacos” para estimular sus mentes con un frenesí de gritos mientras cortan gargantas de incontables enemigos.) 😟
Todos los eventos nocturno de las gladiadoras “Hekatarii” son patrocinados por un macho “Arconte Drukhari” quien justifica su dominio sobre su pueblo al traerles nuevos esclavos y festivales artísticos exóticos, manteniendo las cosas en calma mientras continúe los espectáculos hedonistas; Por ultimo la líder de las brujas es denominada como “Succubus” una novia atlética que resalta por su increíble belleza y elegancia donde exhibe una piel suave y sin cicatrices que demuestra su posición de campeona invicta ante los peores monstruos del coliseo. (mientras se le mantenga el respeto a las “Succubus” no existirá ningún tipo de asesinato político o enredo sentimental.) 💔 ♀️🤔
# #darkeldar #wyches #drukhari #commoragh #warhammer40k #xenos #alien #creatureconcept #fanart #painting #jsochart
(Historia alienígena de Warhammer 40k)
🎼 www.youtube.com/watch?v=Smjm3o8al6k&t=15s&ab_chan...
En resumen Los “Mandrágoras” son un tipo de “Eldar Oscuro” que tiene habilidades de sombra junto con hábitos caníbales y salvajes. (Incluso comparando su brutalidad de ataque con los belicosos Orkos.) 💀
El origen de estos elfos siniestros se remonta al antiguo pasado del imperio “Aeldari” donde sucumbieron a los cultos de lujuria prohibida, las aberraciones cometidas destruyeron los mundos centrales del Imperio “Aeldari” junto con billones de almas de elfos condenados por sus pecados pero por alguna extraña razón los “Mandrágoras” consiguieron burlar su castigo al fusionarse con las sombras escaparon del plano material el tiempo suficiente para regresar transformados. (Algunas teóricas más retorcidas señalan de algún tipo de pacto lascivo entre elfos oscuros y demonios.) 😦
La descripción de los “Mandrágoras” enfatiza rasgos humanoides de piel oscura que no refleja la luz, cabello lacio de color hueso y un rostro sin facciones definidas pareciendo utilizar una máscara que oculta una hilera de dientes afilados; Su método de ataque es sorpresivo causando el temor entre sus enemigos que observan como el ambiente se enfría y oscurece minutos antes de aparecer una silueta oscura en la lejanía. 😈
Obteniendo ventaja entre las sombras la “Mandrágoras” buscara cazar a su presa elegida con una persecución angustiosa antes de capturarla entre gritos de dolor y sangre donde su carne será arrancada de sus huesos mientras sus tatuajes fluorescentes se iluminan por la excitación, la tortura y el sadismo. (Al terminar confecciona una prenda con la piel desollada de su víctima.) 😯
Por último los “Mandrágoras” habitan en la ciudad del pecado “Commorragh” (Una referencia bíblica de Sodoma y Gomorra.) esta metrópolis oscura se oculta en las profundidades laberínticas de la Telaraña una dimensión alternativa donde solo los Eldars Oscuros conocen sus pasadizos secretos. (La ciudad es un mercado negro de esclavos secuestrados de todos los mundos y los humanos son los más apetecidos por estos degenerados elfos.) 😟
Como dato adicional cuando el sagrado “Emperador” 👑 emprendió la Gran Cruzada en el milenio 30 ordeno atacar y destruir todas las colonias y mundos astronave de los “Aeldari” sin ningún tipo de compasión, remordimiento o tregua. 😠
Para terminar la frase:
"Existe una muy buena razón por la que tantas culturas y sociedades de la galaxia temen a la oscuridad..."
—Inquisidor Bastalek Grimm
# #warhammer40k #mandrake #dark #eldar #drukhari #commorragh #creatureconcept #painting #fanart #jsochart
A Carcharodons novel
With a millennia-long hunt close to its end, Carcharodons Chaplain Manu must redouble his efforts as he ventures into the nightmare city of Commorragh.
READ IT BECAUSE
This is your chance to learn more about the secretive savages of the Carcharodons Astra as they tangle with some of the most terrifying predators in the galaxy… almost as terrifying as themselves.
THE STORY
In the darkness beyond the galaxy, there are monsters. Some swim closer to the light, drawn by the beacon that is the Astronomican, while others stalk the Void, predators in the dark. The Carcharodons have hunted for millennia, but now they are drawn into a new blackness… the Dark City of the drukhari itself. Commorragh.
For a thousand years, Chaplain Tangata Manu has searched for a relic lost under his watch – an ancient thing, once charged into the keeping of the Forgotten One himself. But at the brink of seeing his hunt fulfilled and the relic returned, it is stolen from under him. Now, if Tangata would see his honour restored, he must lead his hunt against some of the vilest predators the galaxy has ever seen, before they can turn the artefact to their own purposes…
Written by Edoardo Albert.
This is the main supply line to the outer ring of Commorragh. We ended up having to bring down the entire city to destroy it.
Lelith Hesperax finds herself dragged back to Commorragh, wrapped in the coiling schemes of Asdrubael Vect
Signed by the author and featuring a soft-touch lamination cover, ribbon bookmark, artwork, and an afterword
Written by Mike Brooks
A Drukhari Novel
Lelith Hesperax is the Queen of Knives – the greatest of Commorragh's wyches, and the deadliest gladiator in the galaxy. Now she returns to the Dark City, to slice her way through tangled webs of deception...
READ IT BECAUSE
Follow the legendary grand succubus as she finds herself dragged back to Commorragh and enveloped once more within the twisted plots of Asdrubael Vect.
THE STORY
In the darkest corners of the webway lies the city of Commorragh. Home to the sadistic drukhari, millions are butchered upon its arenas’ sands to slake their terrible thirst for blood. The greatest of these butchers is Lelith Hesperax – the Queen of Knives, and the deadliest gladiator in the galaxy.
Lelith abandoned the Dark City to walk alongside the nomadic death cultists of Ynnead, and in her absence from Commorragh, pretenders to her blood-soaked crown have arisen.
When a blade strikes at Lelith from the shadows, she is pulled back to Commorragh, and into the murderous games of the Living Muse himself – Asdrubael Vect. As his schemes coil around her, the Queen of Knives finds herself ensnared once more in Vect’s terrible web, and this time, mere blades may not be enough to cut her free.
Written by Mike Brooks.
ABOUT THIS EDITION
Each of these beautiful soft-touch lamination hardback books are signed by the author, Mike Brooks. With pink-red blocking on the page edges, and gorgeous artwork and lettering on the cover and spine, this collectible special edition will look great on your shelves. It also features a black ribbon bookmark, full-colour artwork inside, and an afterword by the author.
Ufthak Blackhawk is challenged to gladiatorial combat against the masters of pain in the teeming flesh-pits of Commorragh
Limited to just 1,500 copies, all signed by the author Mike Brooks
This Special Edition features a bright-green cover, a green ribbon bookmark, an author introduction, and an additional short story, Packin' Heat.
An Orks Novel
Ufthak Blackhawk reckons he’s in for it. Da Meklord has summoned him, and the Gargantsmasha just knows his boss wants to kick his teef in and be done with it.
THE STORY
Ufthak Blackhawk faces the Drukhari in the teeming flesh pits of their dark city of Commorragh as he finds himself challenged to gladiatorial combat against the masters of pain.
THE STORY
Out of options, Ufthak leads his Waaagh! through the mysterious webway, to a place where kunnin’, sneakin’, and thinkin’ are the name of the game. A place with little truck for muscle and brawn – Commorragh, the Dark City.
Here, where kabals and haemonculus covens pump psychic viscera into the warp, Ufthak is thrown into gladiatorial combat and soon finds himself up against an archon who will stop at nothing to prove she deserves to rule the Dark City – even if it means bringing Commorragh down around her.
But the Drukhari are about to discover that while orks may be simple, very little about them is ever straightforward.
Written by Mike Brooks.
ABOUT THIS EDITION
This striking, bright-green hardback is strictly limited to 1,500 copies, each signed by the author, Mike Brooks. It features a debossed cover with screen-printed images, and a green ribbon bookmark. Inside, you’ll find an author introduction, and an additional short story, Packin' Heat.
Ufthak Blackhawk is challenged to gladiatorial combat against the masters of pain in the teeming flesh-pits of Commorragh
Limited to just 1,500 copies, all signed by the author Mike Brooks
This Special Edition features a bright-green cover, a green ribbon bookmark, an author introduction, and an additional short story, Packin' Heat.
An Orks Novel
Ufthak Blackhawk reckons he’s in for it. Da Meklord has summoned him, and the Gargantsmasha just knows his boss wants to kick his teef in and be done with it.
THE STORY
Ufthak Blackhawk faces the Drukhari in the teeming flesh pits of their dark city of Commorragh as he finds himself challenged to gladiatorial combat against the masters of pain.
THE STORY
Out of options, Ufthak leads his Waaagh! through the mysterious webway, to a place where kunnin’, sneakin’, and thinkin’ are the name of the game. A place with little truck for muscle and brawn – Commorragh, the Dark City.
Here, where kabals and haemonculus covens pump psychic viscera into the warp, Ufthak is thrown into gladiatorial combat and soon finds himself up against an archon who will stop at nothing to prove she deserves to rule the Dark City – even if it means bringing Commorragh down around her.
But the Drukhari are about to discover that while orks may be simple, very little about them is ever straightforward.
Written by Mike Brooks.
ABOUT THIS EDITION
This striking, bright-green hardback is strictly limited to 1,500 copies, each signed by the author, Mike Brooks. It features a debossed cover with screen-printed images, and a green ribbon bookmark. Inside, you’ll find an author introduction, and an additional short story, Packin' Heat.
Ufthak Blackhawk is challenged to gladiatorial combat against the masters of pain in the teeming flesh-pits of Commorragh
Limited to just 1,500 copies, all signed by the author Mike Brooks
This Special Edition features a bright-green cover, a green ribbon bookmark, an author introduction, and an additional short story, Packin' Heat.
An Orks Novel
Ufthak Blackhawk reckons he’s in for it. Da Meklord has summoned him, and the Gargantsmasha just knows his boss wants to kick his teef in and be done with it.
THE STORY
Ufthak Blackhawk faces the Drukhari in the teeming flesh pits of their dark city of Commorragh as he finds himself challenged to gladiatorial combat against the masters of pain.
THE STORY
Out of options, Ufthak leads his Waaagh! through the mysterious webway, to a place where kunnin’, sneakin’, and thinkin’ are the name of the game. A place with little truck for muscle and brawn – Commorragh, the Dark City.
Here, where kabals and haemonculus covens pump psychic viscera into the warp, Ufthak is thrown into gladiatorial combat and soon finds himself up against an archon who will stop at nothing to prove she deserves to rule the Dark City – even if it means bringing Commorragh down around her.
But the Drukhari are about to discover that while orks may be simple, very little about them is ever straightforward.
Written by Mike Brooks.
ABOUT THIS EDITION
This striking, bright-green hardback is strictly limited to 1,500 copies, each signed by the author, Mike Brooks. It features a debossed cover with screen-printed images, and a green ribbon bookmark. Inside, you’ll find an author introduction, and an additional short story, Packin' Heat.
Ufthak Blackhawk is challenged to gladiatorial combat against the masters of pain in the teeming flesh-pits of Commorragh
Limited to just 1,500 copies, all signed by the author Mike Brooks
This Special Edition features a bright-green cover, a green ribbon bookmark, an author introduction, and an additional short story, Packin' Heat.
An Orks Novel
Ufthak Blackhawk reckons he’s in for it. Da Meklord has summoned him, and the Gargantsmasha just knows his boss wants to kick his teef in and be done with it.
THE STORY
Ufthak Blackhawk faces the Drukhari in the teeming flesh pits of their dark city of Commorragh as he finds himself challenged to gladiatorial combat against the masters of pain.
THE STORY
Out of options, Ufthak leads his Waaagh! through the mysterious webway, to a place where kunnin’, sneakin’, and thinkin’ are the name of the game. A place with little truck for muscle and brawn – Commorragh, the Dark City.
Here, where kabals and haemonculus covens pump psychic viscera into the warp, Ufthak is thrown into gladiatorial combat and soon finds himself up against an archon who will stop at nothing to prove she deserves to rule the Dark City – even if it means bringing Commorragh down around her.
But the Drukhari are about to discover that while orks may be simple, very little about them is ever straightforward.
Written by Mike Brooks.
ABOUT THIS EDITION
This striking, bright-green hardback is strictly limited to 1,500 copies, each signed by the author, Mike Brooks. It features a debossed cover with screen-printed images, and a green ribbon bookmark. Inside, you’ll find an author introduction, and an additional short story, Packin' Heat.
Lelith Hesperax finds herself dragged back to Commorragh, wrapped in the coiling schemes of Asdrubael Vect
Signed by the author and featuring a soft-touch lamination cover, ribbon bookmark, artwork, and an afterword
Written by Mike Brooks
A Drukhari Novel
Lelith Hesperax is the Queen of Knives – the greatest of Commorragh's wyches, and the deadliest gladiator in the galaxy. Now she returns to the Dark City, to slice her way through tangled webs of deception...
READ IT BECAUSE
Follow the legendary grand succubus as she finds herself dragged back to Commorragh and enveloped once more within the twisted plots of Asdrubael Vect.
THE STORY
In the darkest corners of the webway lies the city of Commorragh. Home to the sadistic drukhari, millions are butchered upon its arenas’ sands to slake their terrible thirst for blood. The greatest of these butchers is Lelith Hesperax – the Queen of Knives, and the deadliest gladiator in the galaxy.
Lelith abandoned the Dark City to walk alongside the nomadic death cultists of Ynnead, and in her absence from Commorragh, pretenders to her blood-soaked crown have arisen.
When a blade strikes at Lelith from the shadows, she is pulled back to Commorragh, and into the murderous games of the Living Muse himself – Asdrubael Vect. As his schemes coil around her, the Queen of Knives finds herself ensnared once more in Vect’s terrible web, and this time, mere blades may not be enough to cut her free.
Written by Mike Brooks.
ABOUT THIS EDITION
Each of these beautiful soft-touch lamination hardback books are signed by the author, Mike Brooks. With pink-red blocking on the page edges, and gorgeous artwork and lettering on the cover and spine, this collectible special edition will look great on your shelves. It also features a black ribbon bookmark, full-colour artwork inside, and an afterword by the author.