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"This is all I have left. Bloodshed. The final purity. "

Drow Thel a former Howling Banshee of the Saim Hann Craftworld and a Chaos Lord of Khorne. A member of the piratical Chaos warband, the Brethren of Spite, she was kidnapped, tortured and eventually reborn as a member of the corsairs after her encounter with the Chaos Lord Cain. Now Drow carves out a reputation as a terrible champion of the Blood God, hoping to one day kill Cain and take his place.

Notable History


"A single Eldar’s fingernail is worth a million Mon’Keigh"
— Drow Thel

Born on the Craftworld of Saim Hann shortly after The Fall as ‘Drow Thel', she as all Eldar would follow a number of paths, Awakening, Artisan, and the Warrior. First as a Striking Scorpion and then as a Howling Banshee. In both of her paths Drow proved to be an a fierce warrior, something that drew worry among her colleagues. In battle she proved a capable combatant, fighting on numerous fronts for the Eldar people, including several particularly vicious wars against the traitor Astartes of the Emperors Children Legion during and after the Horus Heresy. This would fester into an incredible hatred of almost all Space Marines.

Drow’s hatred would grow only further as she fought against the Brethren of Spite on the Maiden World of Jong. The army of renegade Space Marines fought a hard battle against the Eldar, having reduced much of the world to an uninhabitable ruin from constant orbital bombardments and phosphex weaponry. The Astartes and Saim-Hann war host scoured over the charred remains, Drow and her Sisters battling through the wreckage of the Crystal streets and the mass graves of the tribes whom had fallen victim to the Astartes. .

However the Brethren of Spite were slowly driven out by the Eldar, Drow cutting through swathes of the lesser Chaos servants and cutting down numerous Chaos Space Marines, before coming upon Cain after a long road of bloodshed. Cain struck down three of Drow’s sisters and wounded their Exarch leader before turning on the Banshee herself.

But Cain was already wounded and fought drunk on victory, Drow striking at Cain with refined rage. Fighting a fierce battle for her own survival, Drow and a pair of her other Sisters cut and pieced through Cain’s hide, but by the end only she remained, the others crushed or reduced to chunks of burning meat. Drow herself was crippled, leg broken and sword shattered, but overcome by drunkenness and perverse thought, Cain paused at the last moment.

She struck out at him, her blade slicing through his helmet and blinding him in the right eye. Letting out a howl, Cain staggered away, before another swipe of his sword along Cain’s abdomen left him an easy kill. Before she could land the final blow, Cain’s men finally arrived, with Drow fleeing as artillery and heavy armour advanced to save their master.

For Drow, she had won a great battle. With Cain’s defeat at her hands, the Brethren of Spite’s morale collapsed almost entirely, and the Pirates fled. Her blades bloodied, Drow had proven herself further among her sisters, but had also earned great ire with Cain. The bitter Chaos Lord’s ego wounded festered, and Cain was quick to act to ease it. He hired a Dark Eldar mercenary by the name of Silinurl Luvt to retrieve her.

Luvt was able to capture Drow during one of Saim-Hann's battles against the Imperium. Drow was separated from her kin and forced into a battle in which she was slowly brought down by a hail of splinter fire, left paralyzed and crippled, but still holding her own for a good amount of time.

Capture and corruption

Luvt was swift in delivering Drow to Cain, but not without threatening to kill her due to the unexpected resistance the Banshee had offered. Luvt was paid twice the amount he had initially demanded, which Cain was fine to do, as he now had his prize. Already injured from her skirmish with Luvt, Drow was in little state or position to defend herself, unable to stop Cain from looting her spirit stone as a prize.

Cain for just over a year subjected Drow to horrendous torture. Drow was even pitted against summoned Slaanesh daemons, forced to battle for her life and avoid the terrible fate that would await her in death. Cain's brutality had left Drow scarred and her will to fight back was all but destroyed. Drow's few attempts to escape were feeble at best, always resulting with the same outcome.

However during her months of torture Cain did bestow a strange "gift" upon Drow. A Daemon weapon of Khorne, placed in her cell as her only form of company. An ancient thing, the weapon held a Greater Daemon of Khorne, long ago bound to it by a sorcerers cabal. Cain taunted the Banshee with the Blade, but Drow refuted his advances.

When Cain first handed the sword to Drow, he sent away his guard and presented himself to her as unarmed, n easy target. He mocked Drow with vile joy. Drow knew At any moment she could cut down the Chaos Lord, at any point she could end his life but, she knew the cost. As as any of her kin would, Drow refused. She understood that Cain's mockery would only see her fate sealed quicker, and a bit of the Eldar still believed that her kin would rescue her.

And so Drow lingered for months in the Covenant of Sin, tortured and broken by her captors again and again. Cain continued his visits to mock and berate the Banshee, offering her up the daemon sword. The blade, Caries it called itself, raged at Drow for not laying waste to Cain with it's warp enchanted fury. Again and again Cain did this, until he grew bored.

Apparently tired of the "lack of response" from Drow, Cain offered her to a cohort of Slaaneshi devotees as a sacrifice for their vile patron, and they were eager indeed to enjoy Cain's gift. With this, Drow would snap.

The call of the sword grew even greater as Cain servants leered over her fragile form, as they advanced to begin her defilement, the Banshee grabbed up the sword. Screaming mad praise to Khorne, Drow frantically slaughtered her captors. Driven now by the invigorated will of the blade, she descended on the Brethren.

Stalking the halls of the Brethren's flagship with the nature of a starved predator. Drow cut down dozens of Cain's lesser servants and several Astartes, but not in senseless slaughter. She had greater plans, and had no intention to waste her life by launching herself in suicidal attacks at the guns of Cain's servants. Instead, Drow evaded what she could not kill and moved to slay Cain himself.

The Failed Vengeance of Drow Thel

She skulked down the hallway with a predatory strut. Her swords whispers had dissolved into mindless, fanatical screaming, begging for more blood. It drank from whatever it killed, it's black surface bearing a renewed sheen, it's battered surface repaired, while such regenerating effects had been passed onto herself.

An Astartes came into view, his bolt gun raised and finger on the trigger, but he moved so so sluggishly. He shouted something as he opened fire, some foolish war cry or call for help, but it all blended together, they were so slow. With great haste she was atop him.

Before the Chaos Space Marine could even realise his folly, she had sunk her sword into his chest, watching gleefully as he struggled in his attempt to escape. She pulled her blade free by tearing up upwards and through his vox grill. His head was torn in two, coating her in fresh ichor, which swiftly sank into the swords surface and into her skin.

But her few seconds of silence were interrupted as bolter fire rang through the hallway, with Drow diving to the floor. More Space Marines, and their weakling human servants had arrived. A torrent of gun fire tore through the air, Drow laid behind the corpse of her last victim, his lifeless mass slowly being blown apart.

She took a second to wait for them to get a bit closer, to get to a distance in which she would be safe to strike. Their footsteps hurried, maybe her silence had fooled them. Whispering a prayer to Khorne, she readied herself.

She leapt towards them, diving past their gunfire and lashing out before they could react. The first trio of corrupted humans were sliced apart, blood and viscera spraying across their allies forms. The Banshee let out another vicious howl, finishing off the remaining fallen humans with swift strikes, before turning her attention to the Space Marines.

Carrying jagged knives and chain swords, they clumsily hacked and slashed at the Banshee, slow and awkward in their assault. Drow, having dodged their mediocre attacks, dived beneath and first astartes, slicing through the soft spot between the back of his knee armour cutting his tendons, before thrusting the edge of the blade through his sternum.

He collapsed onto the floor, bleeding freely, still trying to attack her with his blade. His comrades moved to strike her, but Drow moved to counter them. The second Chaos Marine was beheaded, the third found himself impaled on the Daemon Blade. Slowly, she let him slide free from the blade enough that she could thrust upwards and slice his head in two. Drow took a second to gaze over the carnage, and smiled.

The end was nearing, Drow could feel it. She'd dreamed of this in secret, repressed the thoughts, but now she could release it. Even more of Cain's dead ilk lay scattered around her. The Swords voice filled her mind again, it begged for more, it's hunger for blood not sated. She happily obliged, marching up to the bulkhead of Cain's chambers, stained by it's defenders blood.

However, before she could begin to hack through the bulkhead and find the whelp cowering behind more of his guards, Cain's simpering voice filled the hallway; “A guest? It has been awhile, but don't worry," his voice was filled to the brim with a fresh unnervingly giddy delight; "I know how to treat them!"

Drow's world became fire, the sword barely held back the blast that consumed the bulkhead, throwing the lithe, scrawny form of the fallen Banshee flying across the hallway. She crashed against a wall, sliding down collapsing onto the floor. Her makeshift armour was all but gone, while numerous burns, cuts and wounds now covered her pale flesh. A whine filled her ears, Drow still trying to understand what had happened.

Aided by the power of the Daemon Sword, she crawled back onto her feet, rising to witness the arrival of Cain. His heavy steps echoed through the now eerily quiet hallway, the silhouette of his figure standing out among the black smoke and ash, his form emerging from the destruction.

He was a towered over her feeble form. Clad in chipped and weathered bone coloured power armour, Cain would be an impressive figure if not for the incredibly primitive nature of his appearance. Drow bared her fanged teeth as he strode forth, watching as Cain drew forth his own blade while she staggered into a defensive stance, legs wobbling and body shaking, still recovering from the blast. His voice rattled out from his respirator, a half mechanical mess that oozed with arrogance;

“For a skinny dagger ear, you don't look bad after what you've been through, if I was drunk...” He began to chuckle at his own joke; "But really, I'm surprised you actually took the sword. I was sure you'd die after that lot I offered you to where finished."

She couldn't stand the arrogant stupidity of his poisonous, toad like voice. That primitive, immature egotistical snarl that escaped his mouth was venomous. His primitive, backwards little brain barely allowed him to do anything but curse in his ill begotten tongue. With a fire in her narrowed eyes, she pointed her sword at the Chaos Champion; “You're going to die now Cain. Your going to die screaming."

The arrogant brute laughed at her threat, pointing his power saber towards her; “Lets be honest now, your chances aren't great. Your out of you're league, you stupid bitch."

She ignored him, leaping forward and going for a quick decapitation, but Cain jumped back at the last moment and barely caught her blade with a parry. Another swipe of her sword cut deep into Cain's neck guard, pushing his blade away and slicing into the thick adamantium plate. She pushed it deeper, carving into his throat, but a swing from his power fist forced her away.

She bounded away from his attack, returning with a vicious uppercut through his chest plate and into his flesh. Cain staggered as he turned to face her, but she was still on the offence. Striking his chest piece again and cutting through the skull icon emblazoned upon it, Drow reared back and thrust through his stomach armour, rending open his armour.

Again she danced away, her Eldar grace mixed with that distinct, vicious Khornate rage. She leapt towards the Chaos Lord, spinning her sword above her head and striking it down into the space between his shoulder guard and neck. Her blade cut right through Cain's power armour, tearing deep into his chest, Drow watching as he struggled to throw her off him. She tore the sword free, leaping away, before Cain latched onto her ankle.

He pulled her back, Drow smacking against his chest with a distinct *crack*. She let out a shriek, kicking away and making an awkward swing at his neck, but Cain grabbed onto her blade in mid swing with his power fist. The Chaos Lord growled as the Daemon Sword dug into his clenched fist, Drow trying to saw it into thumb and cut his fingers free.

But with a roar Cain pulled Drow up by the ankle and thrust his knee into her stomach, throwing her back, the Eldar letting go of her sword. He dropped her to the floor and reared back his fist.

The Chaos Lord let out a wheezing, raging roar, screaming as he smacked her away with a backhand from his Power Fist. Caught off guard, Drow was thrown across the room, crashing to the ground and rolling onto her back. Still lying there, she tilted her head to see Cain limping forwards her, dragging his saber across the floor;

"Time to die you fucking bitch!" His pained shout was filled by wounded pride. She watched with blood shot eyes as Cain dragged himself towards her, his sword arm practically hanging from his torso by exposed tendon and muscle. Instead Cain waved his clenched Power Fist, dripping with his own molten blood. She knew she couldn't win without her sword.

A groan of pain escaped her lips as she tried to scramble to her feet, her eyes glancing over to the discarded blade, having been tossed across the hallway to rest against a pile of jagged scrap metal. It called out to her, begging for her to retrieve it.

With lagged nails she dragged herself up, but Cain's attack had down more damage than the blade would've repaired in the time she had it. Her ribs must of been cracked, the red haired Eldar woman spiting out teeth and blood as he crimson hue'd eyes watched in terror as Cain advanced.

Just as she forced herself to her knees and hands, Cain reached her. With a light kick he forced Drow to roll onto her stomach, before pressing his heel against her back. Cain crouched, down, his helmet splitting open to reveal his shard teeth; "I'm impressed. For a scrawny half starved limp wrist'ed shit that is,"

She felt something crack, her eyes widening as Cain slowly pushed down on her spine; "But your still going to die, and I'm not making the same mistake."

With a little more force, he could snap her in two. Then something sharp pressed against the back of her neck, Cain running the tip of his saber against it;

"How about I go for the classic method? Hack your head off and stick it on a pike. Gets the message across pretty well I'd say!" The pain was getting worse, with a bit more force he'd snap her spine, cripple her.

Taming the sword

"You are mine you foolish beast, you might have been something great once, but you belong to me now."
— Drow Thel

While Drow's body lay in comatose under the care of Orion Strasse, her mind now faced a much greater threat. Fueled by the slaughter Drow had wrought in her wake, Caries had regained some of it's former strength. The Daemon, an ancient Bloodthrister of Khorne, sought desperately to find a vassal or some other means of it's release, and saw that Drow Thel was a prime candidate for possession.

Having wormed it's way into the Eldar's conscious ever since it was first presented to her, Caries did not see the task of breaking the Banshee's mind and taking her body for his own as a difficult task, but Drow would not submit so easily. Refusing to bow to the Daemon, Drow demanded that the creature actually confront her if it wished for her body, and claimed that the beast was nothing but a coward.

Attacking the ancient Bloodthirsters pride, Drow soon found herself at the center of a blood stained realm, the ground shattered, mounds of cracked skulls littered the floor in massive mountains, while jagged spikes of brass acceded high into the black skies. Drow was in the realm of Khorne, and was presented by the sight of the snarling and roaring Bloodthirster. A colossal mound of red muscle and rage, Caries towered above the Banshee, and was clad in great plates of steel and brass armour.

Hefting up a pair of obsidian axes, he offered Drow to summon her own weapons, if she should. With nothing but a thought, the Banshee had clad herself in heavy battle armour, and took up a great two handed sword from the many armories that lay within the Greater Daemons lair.

Their battle was fierce. Where Caries was a great monster of strength and brutality, Drow was still an Eldar. Where the Bloodthirster was slow, the Eldar bore unnatural speed and dexterity, able to avoid his blows. Though the Bloodthirster struck with enough force to have felled an army, Drow side stepped and kited him with such grace and speed that the Bloodthirster could simply not match. He grew angrier and angrier, goaded further into rage as the Eldar struck at him again and again, only for his own countering attacks to be ignored or to miss. Caries was soon striking at anything within distance, crushing and destroying anything that moved among his lair, while Drow readied herself for her own attack.

Finally facing the Bloodthirster, Drow struck at him with swift and brutal strike which sent the creature to his knees, slicing his tendons and throwing him off balance. Roaring in fury, the Bloodthirster finally caught up with Drow, grabbing her up in his clawed grip, Caries threatened to crush the Eldar in his hands, but Drow struck again, thrusting her sword into his eyes and blinding him.

Caries tore at her, crushing one of the Eldar's legs and throwing her to the ground as he thrashed and screamed in rage, but Drow rose up and struck again. Thrusting the blade into his throat, Drow tore through the Bloodthirsters neck and into his mouth, silencing the daemon as it slumped to the ground. Clambering atop it, Drow cut the beasts head from it's neck and raised it up in tribute to Khorne. Swearing herself to the Blood God, Drow promised to serve Khorne for the rest of her days, as his devoted servant and Champion.

But as Drow celebrated her victory, she was gifted with a more sinister of things. Caries broken conscious had sank into her mind, it's power, knowledge and martial prowess became part of Drow, as did it's fury. The two's bond was complete, and Drow stood as the master, not the slave.

The Recovery

Drow lay in her primitive bed, glaring angrily at the mechanical form of her “caretaker”, Orion Strasse, the machine man hunched over a desk working away humming to himself, far too invested in his own projects to give Drow a moment’s notice. A few other figures also worked with Strasse in the room, Scientists called in distinct protective uniforms, occasionally glancing over at the bound Drow from behind their masks.

She then looked back to her bindings, holding both her replacement and original arm in place, while without the Daemon sword Drow’s atrophied muscles left her virtually defenceless. Occasionally one of the scientists might take a closer look, though after the last incident where she’d bitten out one of their throats, they kept their distance. He had quickly been replaced.

The room itself was clinical, white tiles and silver platting, the floor was marked by drains and grates. The bed itself had a motorized base, attached to a track that allowed it to be moved around the chamber with ease. Drow since her awakening had taken the time to study every inch of the chamber, eager to find another escape route, though the chamber seemed to be built for the purpose of holding her. Only one entrance existed, while the Daemon Sword was nowhere to be seen. Drow was sure Cain had simply kept her alive for his own amusement.

Strasse stood up and waved his hand to dismiss the others, who swiftly departed the room, the stainless steel door sealing shut behind them as they left. Drow watched him closely as he advanced towards her, eyes narrowing at the sight of the machine thing;

“And let’s see how the patient is doing today,” Strasse said with some fabricated warmth, no sly remarks or triumphant commentary ever seemed to be produced by the machine thing, who's time was spent silently scanning over her vitals, unamused and uninterested in Drow’s glare. He broke the silence, taking hold of her left arm, fabricated locked eyes with hers again; “I am going to free your arm, don't trying anything,”

“Or what?” She spat. He grabbed hold of her arm and a shock ran through her and after a few seconds Strasse let go; “Understand?” Drow nodded, and Strasse continued without another word.

Strasse examined Drow’s freed arm, studying it closely before pressing one of his needle fingers into her muscle, pulling it free after a few seconds; “It seems I’ve been able to reverse much of the muscle atrophy, K’Hesh gene-therapy was of great use, while the carapace is developing nicely from my x-rays. Question, do you feel anything different?”

“My joints ache, my head hurts, but my body feels no different bar your primitive cybernetics” she nodded towards her new gunmetal grey limb, Strasse cocked his head; “So, nothing else then?” Drow grew impatient; “I have answered your question, I feel nothing else.”

Strasse clapped his hands; “Good, it seems the bonding process has been a success, though I need to do a few more tests,” Drow gave him another confused look; “Bonding process? What are you talking about?”

“I’ll show you!” He pronounced with enthusiasm, walking over to the other end of the room as a screen descended to cover much of the wall, bursting to life with an image of her chest cavity; “After your little brawl with Cain, I was forced to do some fairly extensive surgery, as you can see the sheer damage done to your form,” his talon fingers ran against the blurs that marred the image; “A nasty business, but I worked my magic but I thought I’d go a little further.”

The image on the screen then switched to a detailed scan of an Astartes; “You see we Space Marines possess a number of special organs and implants, and I found the thought of replicating such a thing but for another species to be an enjoyable side project, and so I set to work!”

He spoke with an exceptional amount of grandeur and excitement. Drow knew he didn't care for her, but he was still doing things to her; “You were altering my body?” Drow leaned forward, one arm still bound. Narrowing her eyes, she spoke with a distinct venom in her tone; "What did you do?"

Strasse pointed at her and spat out a stern and angered response, clearly irritated at his little rant being interrupted; “Calm down and let me explain, then you can complain about my practice!”

“Then do it quickly or I’ll-"

“Okay then shut up, and let me explain!” Strasse barked, she fell silent, realising it better to just let him get on;

“Now, back on topic, as you can see here” Strasse pointed to a new image. The scan presented Drow’s chest, where prominent plates and segments had been highlighted, all covering muscle;

“I call it the Grey Carapace. It will allow you to interact with your new armour in the same way a Space Marine can. Like a second skin, am I not, brilliant? But that’s not all”

Strasse swiftly moved to the next image, a scan of her chest; “A second heart. Created from genetic samples of your own DNA and that of the numerous other Eldar we have killed and captured, I was able to successfully add it to your circulatory system.”

“Anything else?” She said with a mild sense of care. She didn't want to display weakness to the physician. He shook his head in reply; “Bar steroids and repairs to your bones and tissues, none.”

“Good, I’m glad you've not tampered with anything else you don’t understa-"

“Excuse me," he interrupted, she repressed her laughter at the distinct tone of offence in his digital voice; ",but I have performed over two hundred dissections or vivisection's on Eldar subjects, I have studied under excellent tutorship and was even taught by a member of your races Haemonculi. I am well studied in your races biology, and more than prepared to make such changes.”

As much as she enjoyed his irritation, upsetting the only one of her captors to show her mercy or pity seemed a poor move; “You mentioned Armour."

“A welcoming gift, to our organisation,” he marched over to the right side of the room. With a hiss the metal platting slid away, a small amount of smoke following the large sarcophagus which he pulled free. He looked to her as he pulled it's levitating form to the center of the room;

“Come on then, we haven’t all day.”

Slowly she slid off the bed, careful to not fall as she began to sluggishly move towards Strasse, dragging her medical robes across the titled floor and awkwardly grabbing onto the edge of the sarcophagus for balance.

Strasse quickly slid the lid from the sarcophagus, a burst of smoke following its opening. Drow peered down into its depths, gazing over the mist covered armour. It was a full suit. Primitive but impressive layered plate, built in an almost grotesque parody of her Banshee suit;

“It’s built to fit you perfect, an excellent suit of Artificer power armour, created not just for your species, but for you.”

Drow reached down, plucking the front of the face plate of the helm from the coffin, clearly crafted in inspiration of common Eldar design. She gazed over the face plate for a few seconds, staring into the emerald eye lenses, running her fingers across its cold metal surface. It was lighter than it appeared, though it was heavier than any Wraithbone armour “Is it ready for use?” She dully asked Strasse; “Of course.”

She turned to him, staring down on the Tech-marine; “I want to test it.”

Blood of the Eldar

It can be said that Drow's "crowning" achievement would be the massacre of her own kin. The Eldar of Saim-Hann had sent scouts across the galaxy searching for the Banshee. The Brethren had been keen to keep their tracks clean, their hiring of the Dark Eldar mercenary, Luvt, had allowed them to evade detection for so long before a small group of Harlequins finally discovered the hidden Brethren fleet hiding in an asteroid field on the edge of the galaxy, having retreated their to prepare for an assault on a series of Imperial fringe worlds. Deploying a strike force, the Saim-Hann fleet struck at the Brethren from a dozen sides. Several ships were crippled in the first minutes as the Eldar raiding force began it's assault, and it was not long before the Covenant of Sin was breached and boarded. The Brethren of Spite could neither flee, and their attempts to fight back were slow, clumsy, and ill advised.

The Eldar sought out their stolen kin, and did so with a fury that the Brethren could not match. Cain offered this event as a time for Drow to prove herself as a true champion of Blood God, through the murder of those that now threatened the existence of the Brethren of Spite.. Gifted a new battle plate, Drow took up the Daemon Sword and prepared to battle those who were sent to save her. Leading a massive cohort of Khorne Bezerkers and Raptors, Drow and her new allies were unleashed on the Eldar strike force. Completely unaware of the defection of their former, they were unprepared for the savagery and madness of the fallen Banshee. Hacking, tearing and ripping them apart, Drow reduced scores of Eldar warriors to headless corpses as she reaped her bloody tally. As the first vid-captures and psychic screams of their kin filled the Farseers minds, the Eldar realised the fate that had befallen their sister. Filled by despair, the Eldar tried to shrink away.

But Drow would not let them, nor would Cain or the Brethren. Regrouping and counter-attacking, the Brethren were able to cripple the Eldar flagship, leaving the others to flee or be obliterated by the massive fire screens the Brethren had begun to erect, while by now Drow had made sure not a single enemy lay alive aboard the Covenant of Sin. Gathering up her cohort of insane bezerkers and possessed, Drow led the Brethren of Spite in a massive boarding action, crashing into the fragile and crippled flag-ship and spilling into it's halls. Drow was a frenzied warrior, and with reckless abandon did she wreck utter havoc upon her kin. The Eldar mounted a stalwart defense, and brought low many of the Brethren who had accompanied Drow, but it mattered not to the new champion of Khorne. Their blood appeased him as much as that of the Eldar. Taking many trophies, Drow with what was left of her followers burst into the bridge.

Drow found herself faced with a Striking Scorpion Exarch, who emerged from the shadows of the bridge, slicing apart and cutting down several of her Berserker allies and approached the fallen Banshee. Drow smirked, having finally found a worthy opponent. The two dueled and danced for almost a day, and soon they were alone surrounded by a thick wall of corpses. The Scorpion struck at Drow from the shadows, trying to whittle her defenses down, but Drow was still Eldar. She waited for her chance, and when it appeared Drow struck her blow. Grabbing the Scorpion by the neck she thrust her Daemon Sword into it's chest, over and over until the Exarch was nothing but a pile of charred and burnt armour. Drow celebrated her victory gleefully by impaling the Exarch's charred and cracked helm upon her jagged trophy rack. Collecting the soul stones of the fallen, Drow fed them to the mindless sword as a tribute to Khorne.


"Do not think Cain will protect you, I am free to slay whomever I want, whenever I wish bar the Pirate Lord himself. Your elaborate, self indulging, ego boasting titles will do you no good. What I seek, is skill in combat. Not skill in boot licking, which you have all proven to be experts in. "
—Drow Thel


Drow and Cain have a rocky relation to say the least. Drow's loyalty to Cain mainly comes out of a fear of what his response will be if she attempts to resist his reign, punishments include trips and holidays to Commoragh and other such unpleasant places. Cain enjoys the utter despair and hatred Drow displays towards him so much so that he keeps the Eldar around him at all times. Drow ultimately seeks to remove Cain from power, as well as his head from his shoulders, and offer it up the Blood God at the base of his skull throne.

Silinurl Luvt

If there is one individual Drow Thel despises more than Cain in the entire galaxy, it is almost certainly Silinurl Luvt. Bar being the individual who would steal her away from her Craftworld home and deliver her to the Brethren of Spite, damming her into the service of Khorne, Drow is often used as payment by Cain for Luvt's personal enjoyment, though the rarity of Luvt and Cain's operation's means the two are rarely in contact for long. Drow and Luvt's relationship is possibly the definition of love hate. Their passion is rare, though violent and deviant.

Orion Strasse

Strasse and Drow have a strained but far more healthy relation that Drow will find among the other Brethren of Spite troops. Nursing Drow back to health after her conflict with Cain and acting as her doctor (as he does with the other Brethren lieutenants and officers), Drow finds some vague comfort in her discussions with Strasse, though as always is wary of his loyalty to Cain and what information he might give to the Chaos Lord about her.

Personality and Traits

"Your weakness caused this! Your weakness let me rot! Your weakness made me what I am! My brothers and sisters are not you, no, they are the dregs you fight. Lord Khorne has shown me the way, and the path is welcoming. "

Aggressive, murderous and cunning, Drow is somewhat typical of fanatical servants of Khorne. Quick to anger, and extremely vicious in her devotion to the Blood God, Drow proves dangerous both on and off the battlefield. Especially to other members of the Brethren of Spite, whom Drow generally holds in low regard. Drow, despite her questionable sanity, still displays a capable ability as a commander and leader. Years of fighting alongside her men has granted Drow an unparalleled ability to guide a band of battle ravenous Khornate Astartes. Drow has mastered the Brethren's ideology of lightning war in her raids, her experience making Drow ever the more dangerous.

Drow's mind was scared and degraded from the months of physical and mental torture she suffered at the Brethren of Spite and the influence of the Daemonic Sword (whose bound spirit she consumed) has been changed to become utterly stalwart and notably tenacious. Unwilling to surrender or retreat from all but the greatest of danger Or opponents. Drow is always in search of conflict with those she dislikes. Lacking in even the most basic empathy and pity, Drow is a merciless and a single minded creature, driven by nothing but a fanatical sense of self-loathing and love for Khorne.

Powers and abilities

"Do not confuse savagery with stupidity. That woman is still Eldar, she has cunning running through her veins, and while the sword and torture might have dimmed her wits, and corrupted her flesh, she is much more than a fanatic. In short, try not to piss her off."

Drow is a rabid, but altogether skilled and cunning fighter. Having trained as a Banshee of Saim-Hann for considerable time and having fought alongside the Brethren of Spite for several centuries, Drow has become a veteran in several styles of combat, as well as a number of weapons; though always preferring her Daemon Weapon Caries. Physically imposing, Drow is noticeably strong even for an Eldar, which coupled with her artificer armour and warp sword, allows the fallen Banshee to rend open opponents such as Space marines with a frighting ease. As with all Eldar Drow is exceptionally fast and quick witted when compared with most species. In combat her speed and strength make Drow a terrible threat to face. Faced with a wall of striking blades most opponents will falter.

Drow also recessives ample protection from her Artificer armour, which provides the Eldar with both further speed and strength enhancements at at no real cost to mobility due to her "Grey Carapace". Blessed with Daemonic flight, Drow can further make use of her speed and strength by striking from the sky. With blackened, daemonic talons, the Khornate Champion can pluck opponents from the ground and rend them apart, or set them alight with crimson warp fire. As with all Champions of Khorne, Drow is blessed with noticeable protection against psychic powers, though her wounded mind might be exploited by a truly gifted and cunning psyker.

Under the care of the Brethren of Spite’s self-proclaimed Head of Research, Orion Strasse, Drow was physically augmented after her ill-fated fight with Cain. As well as repairing Drow's severe wounds, Strasse enhanced her body with alterations, strengthening and reinforcing her skeletal structure, replacing her lost right arm with a cybernetic replacement, alongside a secondary heart and what is called by Strasse the "Grey Carapace". Much like a Space Marines Black Carapace, Strasse's creation allows Drow's nervous system to interact with her Artificer armour in the same way that a Space Marine can with his own.


"The beast had come again, and our hope had turned to despair. Clad in brazen armour she descended from the sky and struck at us, a winged monster, the ranks broke and the men fled, as it screamed it's praises to the Blood God."
— Ordo Malleus Inquisitor on Drow

As with most Eldar, Drow Thel is tall figure standing at an impressive 9’10, even when not clad in her suit of Artificer armour. Drow is much muscular than most Eldar, built up from Orion Strasse's steroid experimentation's and years of training and battle. Her flesh is pallid white, Drow's skin is marred by years of fighting at the forefront of battles with the Brethren of Spite. Her face is tired and marked by her years of fighting and torment, crimson hair often stained by dried blood. Due to her standing in Khorne's eyes, Drow has been blessed with numerous daemonic gifts such as horns, wings and runic blessings upon her armour and weaponry.

Drow's hands and feet have changed to become blackened skeletal claws and talons, alight with a fiery copper warp fire. Drow enjoys the gift of Daemonic flight, providing her with great, leathery bat like wings. Drow is seemingly always clad in her heavy bone coloured armour, made up of thick, heavy overlapping anarchic plates, marked by brass trim.



"The psyker has no honour, the psykers mind is filled by poison, his mind polluted by his curse. Only the most strong willed of that scum might free themselves of their weakness, but the rest must be gone."
—Drow Thel


Feel free to add your own

"I'm so very happy that we get to spend this time together, you and I. I'm going to make a lovely sculpture of you, something that even the most Jaded of Eldar will love and adore. Oh no, I can't sculpt you while you're wearing that brass filth. Remove it, and let me... adore your bewitching skin. "
Silinurl Luvt
"A Eldar who has formed an Symbiotic relationship with the daemon Khorne? Certainly a rare specimen with a calculable likely-hood of reoccurring that is 16,725,020,567,892.58 to one. Certainly it's potential is wasted under the crude, trail and error, methods of it's current owner. Acquire it for me so that I might test it's value to the Dajakk."
—Chief-Administrator Arch-Heretek Manderon ordering The Brotherhood of the Dajakk to 'acquire' Drow Thel
"Ah, Eldar. How the mighty have fallen indeed."
Greyon Autaris
"Huh, a Khornate Eldar. Now there's something even I don't see every day. "
St. Athaliah the Flame
"Sister, despite differences, both in body and mind, I feel you and I are more kin than most within your fell brotherhood. Come with me sister, and I will show you the true power within your soul."
Valkyura Warpschild
"Want that sword in a stasis field for my gallery and I want that lunatic in a chainmail bikini for reasons. Make it happen people!"
Douchard Bagge
"What a queer specimen you are... so lithe and yet so strong. I do wonder, little alien, what shade you bleed?"
—Umbal the Duelist[src]
"Such a wicked jest for one of our kin to side with the enemy. Such a perfect irony when we avenge this slight."
Cruel Glee
"Turn away from the darkness, it's not yet too late!"