The Blood-Slicked Brass Blades

Created by Reiteration6

Hailing from Calorag, the City of Pain, this small tribe sought to gain strength by enduring great agonies, and inflicting them on others, but at some point along the way, they took things too far, in their desperation to earn the Blood God's favour. They didn't just kill and maim for glory, or out of anger, or religious zeal. They enjoyed inflicting excessive suffering on others, they took pleasure in it. Chief amongst those who led the way in this regard was Gharhakh Sunderbrute, a mighty champion who brooked no dissent from his subordinates, adding any who questioned him to his list of victims. Gharhakh dreamt of blood and screams, always hungry for more foes to dismember. So when one night a red-skinned daemon swaddled in blood-soaked cloth appeared to him in his sleep, promising to provide him a never-ending stream of foes to slay, if he would only swear allegiance to it, Gharhakh readily agreed. From that day forth, he led the tribe's warriors on more and more frequent raids, primarily targeting the cults of Slaanesh; Khorne's most hated foes. He didn't know how, but the red daemon — who had introduced themself as Vekhanakh the Bloodthirsty — seemed to possess a particular skill for tracking down hedonite scum. Gharhakh has never questioned this. After all, if Khorne cares not from whence the blood flows, only that it flows, then Gharhakh would not be so arrogant as to presume to care about such things either. But not every raid was a success. Vekhanakh never directed them against foes they could not best, but the targets they assigned were sometimes too agile and quick for the Khornates to catch. Even though this was a marauder tribe with plenty of horse-mounted cavalry — no plodding legion of hulking chaos warriors — they often found that their foes escaped on the backs of daemonic steeds faster than any equine. Eventually, after one too many frustrating failures, Gharhakh begged Vekhanakh for aid, certain that the only way for the tribe to catch daemon-riding prey was by riding daemons themselves. Vekhanakh laughed at him. In mocking tones, the greater daemon told their champion that while they could provide the tribe with juggernauts of living brass, if they were so inclined to, such creatures would do Gharhakh no more good than mortal horses. The only mounts which could keep pace with the Dark Prince's steeds were other steeds of Slaanesh, they lied smoothly. Then Vekhanakh suggested that if it was possible for decadent hedonites to subdue such creatures, surely Khornate warriors, far fiercer and mightier, would have no trouble doing likewise. Certain that his daemonic benefactor would not lead them astray, Gharhakh shifted his focus from killing as many as possible, to capturing mounts whenever the opportunity presented itself. There were those who objected, of course, thinking that the Blood God would never condone taking Slaaneshi daemons alive. Gharhakh made examples of them. As a (self-proclaimed) Lord of (the city of) Pain, torture was not a foreign concept to him, and he made sure to be brutal enough to get across the message that he would accept no dissent. So they took steeds of Slaanesh, and he and his warriors began attempting to break and subdue them. Some warriors — including Gharhakh himself — were successful, but others were not so fortunate. Those warriors with weak wills who sat astride a steed of Slaanesh found themselves unable to dismount, and slowly mutating over time. Gharhakh accepted this as a price worth paying. With each new steed-mounted warrior, it became easier to capture more of them, until all his people of fighting age had a mount to call their own. At that point, they were able to get back to hunting hedonites in earnest, which they did for some time, before the Barbed King's call came. A stormcast-led invasion had come to Aichmos' lands, and he was demanding that the Tithe Cities support the Bloodtide. Determined to prove that Calorag was the greatest of all the Pyrelands' settlements (and eager for more blood to spill and pain to inflict), Gharhakh was all too pleased to heed his king's call. However, despite their eagerness, his tribe are regarded with suspicion by the more traditional Khornate warriors. Even if they conceal their mounts' purple hides by bathing them in crimson gore, there is no hiding that they ride steeds of Slaanesh.

For now, the Barbed King is content to allow them to serve, but should they fail him, Gharhakh is under no illusions that Aichmos will be merciful.

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