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Category Archives: Meet the Cultists

Rheatrivix and Khaslillie’s fucking awesome band has many members, from vaunted Chaos Space Marines down to lowly chaos cultists. This is the stories of the lowest of the low.

Brunacus Liruxa, Brunus to his friends has been thrice blessed. Early in his career he manage to toss a grenade into a bunker where a couple of Space Marines were inspecting an Imperial Guard weapons cache. The resulting explosion obliterated all of the occupants and was pretty spectacular to boot. Brunus’s tongue grew three sizes that day, and that night during the celebration he used it to it’s fullest, earning his second boon, his magnificent horns. Brunus treats them like an art piece, painting them garish colors as the mood suites him. Further, his facility with his tongue has lead to his mouth being wired open with consecrated wire, and it’s been declared that as a shrine to Slaanesh his mouth was free use. His willing acceptance, nay embracing of his new status is likely what what lead to his third and most recent boon, one of the highest honors any cultist is likely to see, a crab like daemonette claw.

Brunus is generally considered rather dapper, wearing a silk neckerchief of one stripe or another at almost all times. Amazingly, despite the crab claw he is also an adroit sewer, and will often loot the finest textiles and clothes on raids to repair or improve the clothing and gear of the other cultists. His excellent disposition in combination with his other qualities has lead him to be a cult favorite and though he doesn’t know it, the rest of the cult do their best to keep him out of of the thickest combat during battles, feeling his talents can best serve Slaanesh outside of the battlefield.

Svokai Moriz is not one of the sanest individuals in the cult. It probably started when he misunderstood Seanan’s silver regimen and took a few doses of mercury. He’s since started taking the proper dosage of silver instead, but his lack of focus has left him nicknamed Wild Eyes Kai. He also dyes his beard, though it’s probably just because Anram does and so Kai assumes that was what you were supposed to do. It’s widely considered that he’s received a gift of inhuman strength from Slaanesh, because even a space marine might be hard pressed to carry around as ridiculous of a load as Kai does in the form of, in his own words, “reloads for me flail, in case I runs out in the middles of a fight. It wouldn’t do, no, not at all.” That’s right he carries what is basically 4 cannon balls around in his backpack, and doesn’t seemed phased by it in the slightly. I did warn you he wasn’t all there.

Kai usually claims he aspires to be a spaceship pilot, but his aspirations aren’t entirely consistent, and he as at various times expressed plans to become a Daemon Princess, Defiler, Ork Nob or Motorcycle. While some of this is attributable to lack of sanity, the truth is most of his poor grasp on reality is probably due to his rampant drug use (even for a Slaaneshii cultist). If he has indeed received a boon it’s likely to actually be immunity to overdosing.

Pugar “The Magician” Arreon claims his big brother is a Warp Talon and that’s where he got the awesome helmet and chainsword; while the claim is patently ridiculous the sword is basically brand new … there’s no Nurgle rot, Tzeentchian sigils, and not nearly enough blood to have been looted from Khornish marines. Exactly how Pugar acquired is unclear.

In the revelry after a particularly successful battle another cultists, Cruga tried to insult Pugar by calling him a lumberjack, and Pugar responded by sawing him in half and then proclaiming that he couldn’t put Cruga back together so he was apparently a pretty piss poor magician. This struck a cord with the rest of the cult, and now there are usually raucous calls to “Show us a magic trick” from everyone else in his squad when they charge into battle.

Pugar has the distinction of having one of the few Chaos amulets not made by Moebius, though he’s not clear on the origins since it was attached when “his brother gave it to him.”

The sword and helmet are indeed spares from the Warp Talon/Lightning Claws kit. The pistol is actually from a Kharadron Overlord kit (aka fantasy sky dwarves).

If there is anyone in Khaslillie and Rheatrivix’s Awesome Fucking Band who shouldn’t be allowed to carry  a gun most members would probably suggest Talon Ogar should be so restricted. While his boon has left him without eyes, his entire skin has become so sensitive to vibration that he uses his bell for what basically amounts to echo location. Amidst the din of battle only those with the keenest hearing, possibly enhanced by exotic narcotics, and those standing directly beside Talon can even hear it’s ringing, but it doesn’t seem to prevent him from firing on targets. Unfortunately his accuracy was never the best, even when he had eyes, but all told he’s still good enough at distinguishing targets that he’s barely killed anyone worth mentioning via friendly fire.

Talon was tasked (along with a couple of dozen other cultists) to do a space walk during one raid when one of Khaslillie’s Battlecruisers found a derelict hulk and there wasn’t a Kharybdis available for the boarding action. The silence of the vacuum of space apparently didn’t sit well, and almost everyone else was forced to mute comms to silence his inhuman screams. There were of course exceptions, being a Slaaneshii cult, several members turned their volume up all of the way, and Tudax managed to snag a recording of it which he has since resampled into several hilarious and catchy songs such as “I can hear the stars, make them shut up”, “Please Don’t Stop Talking” and “I don’t want no part of this, send me back”.

Talon’s sense of smell and taste has also been magnified, and during downtime he uses this newfound talent to do a bit of chemical experimentation. Some of his more successful batches have even been passed up the chain to the Noise Marines. Talon hopes someday to make an impressive enough batch that they’ll allow him to participate in one of their gigs, though of course he’ll probably have to come up with a much more impressive instrument than a bell to have a chance.

This model wouldn’t hold up to the “50% GW” rule. The head, bell and backpack are all GW but that’s only about a third of the mini, the rest being Target. That said, I love the idea of Slaanesh (and the other Ruinous Powers for that matter) granting boons that don’t really aide in battle, and possibly are a hindrance, but help them in some way during “every day life” … It’s not really focused on by GW, but realistically (hah) not every moment is spent in war.

Meet The Cultist is a weekly feature focusing on some of the least regarded members of a Warhammer 40k Chaos Army, the cultists. In the game they are cannon fodder or a distraction at best, yet I find examining the sonder of their lives interesting. While chronology isn’t particularly important, you can start at the beginning if you care about reading them in order.

Pargebus fancies himself a “special operative” wielding a brace of custom autopistols and finding any excuse he can to use his precious night-vision goggles. And while he is quite stealthy, his skills are as frequently put to use liberating alcohol and excess loot from other squads as they are employed during real battles and raid. That said his enthusiasm is well enough known that he is often “volunteered” for otherwise undesired tasks simply by adding some element of stealth or unusual entry to the mission.

Pargebus likes collecting bugs, especially esoteric xenos specimens. He has a small travel case with a killing jar, and a kit so he can bring any rarities he discovers back after the raid, to add to his fairly extensive collection. His biggest frustration is when the band is campaigning near the Eye of Terror or in warp tainted space and seemingly exotic bugs he’s caught become mundane (or worse disappear entirely) once they’ve left the influence of the warp behind. He’s commissioned Moebius to make him a warp consecrated storage container, but neither attempts have worked and in this regard Pargebus has remained frustrated.

A few of the other cultists laugh behind his back at Pargebus’s ridiculous pouffy sleeves, but as they are all that’s left of his lucky shirt Pargebus doesn’t care. Ultimately most of the other cultists don’t care as fashion is generally considered in the eye of the beholder.

 

Meet The Cultist is a weekly feature focusing on some of the least regarded members of a Warhammer 40k Chaos Army, the cultists. In the game they are cannon fodder or a distraction at best, yet I find examining the sonder of their lives interesting. While chronology isn’t particularly important, you can start at the beginning if you care about reading them in order.

Tudax and Crucius found a pair of antique blunderbusses while raiding the governor’s mansion on an Agriworld. They have since been competing as to who can make the best use of these large bore, but single shot weapons. Tudax as taken out the ankle actuator on a Sentinel and managed to bring down a Screamer. Crucius claim to have gotten the killing shot on a Nurgle Daemon Prince, but a squad of Noise Marines were playing a cover of “his” song Please Don’t Stop Talking at it at the same time so credit isn’t entirely clear.

When not taking potshots with ancient weaponry Tudax likes “dirt farming”, that is growing Mudwyrms, a small maggot like creature grows in rich soil fed by barely decomposing flesh. Half animal, half plant they theoretically have no upper limit to size except that  once they get larger than about 3 feet long they have to spend more time eating than they are awake to maintain size. With Talon’s help he’s been working on a version of amphetamines that will reduce the amount the Mudwyrms need to sleep so they can grow even larger.

He is also an accomplished DJ, his initial claim to fame being a resampling of the ravings of Talon her recorded during a space walk. He now carries recording device nearly everywhere, especially favoring warp travel with weak Gellar Fields for the bizarre and incomprehensible sounds. These samples can then lead to songs that induce a drug like state just by listening to them.

 

Meet The Cultist is a weekly feature focusing on some of the least regarded members of a Warhammer 40k Chaos Army, the cultists. In the game they are cannon fodder or a distraction at best, yet I find examining the sonder of their lives interesting. While chronology isn’t particularly important, you can start at the beginning if you care about reading them in order.

 

Crucius Rokha is currently in a competition with Tudax that will probably end up getting both of them killed. With there being some contention about his big kill (a Nurgle Daemon prince which was the target of a Noise Marine ‘concert’) Crucius is aiming to take down some thing big, and undisputable and so now keeps his eyes on the sky.

When not on the battlefield he spends a large portion of his free time on the firing range (assuming there is one) or hunting the current planet’s bird analogs. His marksmanship is quite exquisite and if he’d only deign to take a more effective weapon he’d probably earn some sort of boon from Slaanesh, though his perseverance with such a substandard weapon may end up doing the trick if he can ever bring down a big enough enemy.

He is also obsessed with fashion, and is the finest hair stylist in the band, however since he can’t abide a less then perfect cut and no one else can seem to do a good enough job to meet his standards he opts to remain bald and clean shaven. This leaves cologne and lipstick as his main fashion accessories; when he can find them on raids he’ll often part with more valuable loot from his share to acquire them.

Meet The Cultist is a weekly feature focusing on some of the least regarded members of a Warhammer 40k Chaos Army, the cultists. In the game they are cannon fodder or a distraction at best, yet I find examining the sonder of their lives interesting. While chronology isn’t particularly important, you can start at the beginning if you care about reading them in order.

Sekrax Melgoy had the voice of an an angel, everyone agreed. Hearing him talk or sing was ecstasy. However this not his story.  Zygor Honlock made filters for, and assembled the cults’ supply of gas masks. And the one time he screwed up, his one mistake, was in Sekrax’s mask during a raid in a Nurgle infested agri-world. Sekrax survived, but his voice was ruined by the noxious gases encountered there, thenceforth sounding like Tom Waits gargling sandpaper. As punishment it was ordained that Zygor never speak again; to that end he’s been bound with a similar punishment as Varbhor.

Like most of the cult Zygor’s biggest desire is to curry the favor of Slaanesh. Before his sentence of silence he lead a small group of cultists who’d found some ancient texts on philosophy. As such they’d devoted themselves to the pursuit of excellence, for surly the more perfect they became the greater the chance Slaanesh’s gaze would fall upon them. While he can no longer participate in the debates, he still attends and listens. In addition he is one of the best shots with a pistol in the cult, able to hit a target half again as far away as most marksmen.

Finally Zygor is also a collector; several years ago he came across an ancient miniatures game called CrimeHive. According to the rules the miniature robots and monsters would move on their own, fighting battles as directed by the players. However the ravages have time have not been kind to the sparse selection of models Zygor has found, and while most are in decent condition the electronics inside have long since corroded to the point of being unsalvageable. The are several other cultists who are willing to play his modified rules where they use measuring sticks and dice to determine the outcome of battles, but little would please Zygor more than finding some perfectly preserved pieces with functioning electronics so that they could play the game properly.

Meet The Cultist is a weekly feature focusing on some of the least regarded members of a Warhammer 40k Chaos Army, the cultists. In the game they are cannon fodder or a distraction at best, yet I find examining the sonder of their lives interesting. While chronology isn’t particularly important, you can start at the beginning if you care about reading them in order.

Once upon a time Sekrax had the voice of an angel. He had a promising career as an entertainer on Poulionus, a hive world which was far enough from the regular trade lanes that it seemed the Imperium turned a blind eye to the active trade agreements with the expanding T’au empire. And if the effect of his voice hadn’t been so pronounced he might have done a tour on various T’au occupied worlds singing to Gue’vesa, betraying the Imperium in a small and fairly insignificant way; but that’s not how is story went.

Instead his performances brought money, fame, and fans: drugs and other excesses soon followed. Everybody knows Slaanesh cultists throw the best parties, and once he’d tasted the mind bending extravagances  provided by the petitioners of She Who Thirsts there was no turning back for Sekrax. Before he sang for money, and fame. Now he had a purpose; his voice a living prayer to Slaanesh that enthralled and intoxicated any who heard it.  His presence on the battlefield was usually restricted to the back lines, where his voice was piped through amplifiers and thence to a Noise Marine who used the melodious tones to fire off devastatingly distorted sussurances that were felt rather than heard and left the affected foes writhing in pleasure even as their overloaded nervous systems shutdown from the magnificent over stimulation of it.

Then, while raiding for liquor on a Nurgle infested agri-world, Sekrax’s luck ran out. Some pestilential wind passed over the his squad and whatever noxious vapour it was ruined his voice. Everyone knows that it was Zygor’s fault, but only Sekrax knows the truth; his gas mask was fine, he was just t0o slow getting it on. Initially he was too embarrassed to clear Zygor’s name, not expecting the alacrity or severity with which punishment would be meted out. Now it’s been several months, and Zygor seems to have accepted his fate so Sekrax channels his guilt into battle. His chain sword will just have to sing for him.

Many lament that Tudax joined after Sekrax had lost his voice, but the truth is recordings never could touch a live performance; it was as if the was some magic in his voice that couldn’t be captured by a box of metal and plastic.

Meet The Cultist is a weekly feature focusing on some of the least regarded members of a Warhammer 40k Chaos Army, the cultists. In the game they are cannon fodder or a distraction at best, yet I find examining the sonder of their lives interesting. While chronology isn’t particularly important, you can start at the beginning if you care about reading them in order.

March Svorak has always been a bit of a Luddite, not that anyone really knows that term anymore. Still given the choice between complex and simple machines he’s always eschewed anything that might have a hint of a machine spirit. However collaborating with Talon he’s come up with a number of poisonous coatings for his arrows (many are actually just failed batches of Talon’s experiments). Amongst the cult Berzerk and SexGod are generally considered the most entertaining… Nothing sows confusion in the enemy like one of their own going crazy, though often there is disappointment if the target hit with Berzerk manages to kill the rest of his squadmates leaving no one else for the cult to fight.

In light of this Svorak and a couple of other cultists are often sent off as a diversion… they’ll incite some kind of riot, distracting the enemy from where the real attack is to come from, and in cases like that the relatively silent nature of the crossbow more than makes up for the slow reload time. He’s been on enough side missions with Brunus that they’ve become fast friends and March wears the mask Brunus made, even though it’s a little on the shoddy side thanks to Brunus’s crab claw not being the most dexterous at textile manipulation (aside from snipping!)