Haemonculi

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A Dark Eldar Haemonculus

The Haemonculi, the Lords of Pain, are horrific and insane Dark Eldar flesh-sculptors who have lived within the depths of Commorragh for many Terran centuries, if not millennia. They are master torturers, the Dark Eldar's greatest connoisseurs of pain and terror. To pass the long centuries they compose loving symphonies of agony from those unfortunate enough to be held captive in their dungeons. Even other Dark Eldar secretly fear the Haemonculi, for they can reshape not just the body but also the soul. The Haemonculi are organised into units called covens that are integral to Commorrite society since they are the true masters of the Dark Eldar's necessary regenerative processes as well as of torture, but they remain the embodiments of terror and paranoia even for others of their species. All know that to anger one of the Lords of Pain is to end up as the subject of one of their horrific tapestries of agony. Haemonculi specialise in body modification and flesh-sculpting and they love to work with a new "canvas" of flesh. If their client wants barbed quills added to his shoulders, the scaled face of an alien reptile, or the eyes of a Viridian Wraithspider, no request is too difficult or bizarre for a Haemonculus to fulfill.

How a Dark Eldar becomes a Haemonculus is unknown. They are all of an ancient age, even for the long-lived Eldar, and their withered and horrific appearances speaks of Dark Eldar so old they have passed beyond the ability to regenerate a youthful appearance no matter how much of others' torment and agony they immerse themselves in. It is possible that the oldest of the Haemonculi, known as the Haemonculi Ancients, contain among their numbers those individuals who inaugurated the very first Eldar cults of pleasure and pain before the Fall, but this also remains unknown, as all Haemonculi physically alter themselves to the point that they barely even resemble other members of the species they mockingly still call their own.

While the physical modifications will differ from Haemonculus to Haemonculus, representing their personal tastes and particular brand of insanity, they are always attenuated and twisted in form. Their wan, pale-skinned frames do not have a spare ounce of flesh upon them, and their waists are devoid of internal organs to better present what they view as a fashionably disturbing facade. Some Haemonucli place their intestines, lungs and heart within a powerfully-muscled piece of additional tissue that sprouts from their shoulders and serves as a repository for stimulants and other alchemical mixtures as well as boasting secondary limbs of mechanical or biological origin. Others replace their blood so that searing ichor or even a potent molecular acid now runs through their modified veins. Their spines have been elongated so that from the lower back, their vertebrae meld into prehensile bone-tails that can lash out at their victims. From their backs emerge horn-like protrusions of bone that frame the Haemonculus' head like an organic rack. These racks are hung with special syringes that channel their noxious concoctions directly into their spinal sump.

As they are for all purposes functionally immortal, the Haemonculi do not pursue the hurried, frenetic pace of the younger Dark Eldar. They move with an unlovely grace, often held aloft by powerful anti-gravitic suspensor crystals. Others can slither along the ground like nightmarish serpents using their bone-tails. Patient fiends, they know that the manufacture of a truly perfect death takes time. As the millennia pass, many Haemonculi become ever more deranged and obsessive. One Haemonculus might only dine upon the left hands of his victims, while another may only drink from a fluted glass filled with the tears of children. Having long since transcended notions of wealth held by even other Dark Eldar, Haemonculi particularly prize the acquisition of unusual alchemical ingredients, such as the heart of a Judge of the Adeptus Arbites or the distilled physical essence of a once-proud Imperial Planetary Governor. The former may elicit the stout flavour of pure resolve; the latter the foolish thrill of vain-glory.

In battle, the Haemonculi see combat as yet another canvas upon which to exercise the skills of the true artist of pain. They use extreme wargear that often takes the form of an unusual biological or chemical weapon, such as a compound that allows them to cause uncontrollable tissue growth with a single touch or to remove all water from their foes' bodies in an instant, causing their dried, dessicated corpses to drop to the ground before they are even aware of what is happening to them. A Haemonculus usually drifts across the field of battle using his suspensor crystals with a magnificent if macabre elegance, providing the gift of a gloriously agonising death to one combatant after another. In the rare instance that a Haemonculus himself should die, he will go quite willingly into the void with a hideous smile etched upon his gaunt features. Every Haemonculus knows that he will soon return to seek a fascinating and vicious revenge. After all, for these foul beings, death is just the beginning...

Notable Haemonculi Covens

The Seals of the Dark Eldar Haemonculi Covens

Beneath the Dark City lurk the Covens of the Haemonculi, a twisted brotherhood of ancient torturer-alchemists. These fiends are so steeped in evil that sustaining their existence requires the infliction of near continuous atrocities. Universally feared, these twisted beings are crucial to the continued survival of the Dark Eldar race, for their unnatural sciences give them power over life and death. Yet those who deal with the Haemonculi should be wary, as there is always a price to pay. The most infamous are listed here, though there are a great many more less powerful or newly established covens whose names remain unknown in current Imperial records:

• The Altered - The Altered are well known for never wearing the same anatomy on consecutive occasions. However, their true expertise is in poisons, toxins and phages. They are the premiere suppliers of lethal elixirs in the Dark City –- if an artisan were to take a splinter weapon from any Kabal or Cult and break down its constituent venoms, they would find several that hailed from the laboratories of the Altered. Many of their number are Nemesists, dark scientists who collude with the Shaimesh-worshipping toxmaidens of Lhilitu. Though it may take millennia of experimentation, their single-minded quest is to unlock the death-secrets of every sentient creature in the galaxy. When raiding realspace, the Coven will capture as many victims as they can, regardless of quality –- they think nothing of rendering down entire populations or even races into a single poison of unparalleled potency. To reap the raw materials they need for their deadly distillations, the Altered employ a standing army of Corpsethief Claws, each Talos equipped with stinger pods and ichor injectors that bubble with the most lethal liquids imaginable.
• The Black Descent - The Haemonculi of the Black Descent love to lay traps and sit back to enjoy their lethal denouement. These range from the feigned flights and baited ambushes of their realspace raids to thousand-year intrigues that see their rivals fully humbled. To cross the Black Descent is to invite a punishment darkly twisted to fit the crime. One who uses brute force against them may later find himself stung by an insect-sized Wrack, the hyperdrenaline introduced into his bloodstream forcing him into a frenzy so severe he literally tears himself apart. One who delays payment for the Black Descent's poisons may awake one morning trapped in a Sslyth venom-nest. Even unintended offense can yield retribution – when an ambassador from the Kabal of the Baleful Gaze wrinkled his nose at the stench of the Coven's dungeons, he soon found himself coughing on transmutative gas. Later that night he sprouted the quivering nostrils of an Ur-Ghul, his eyes sealing over so he could better appreciate the fine bouquet of rot. The Haemonculi of the Black Descent have constructed a pyramidal labyrinth of glass that hangs inverted beneath the Dark City. Promising captives are thrown into the labyrinth's sensory deprivation chambers whilst the Covenites leer outside. The only way out is to negotiate the maze's trap-strewn confines through touch and instinct. Almost all of those that undertake this journey are killed, caught in paradox cubes or falling eternally into Moebius pits as they try to avoid the labyrinth's bladed convolutions. Those that pass through safely are rewarded with a new life as a Wrack, becoming a part of the Coven forever more.
• The Coven of the Crawling Dark
• The Coven of Twelve - The Coven of Twelve is a conclave of several Haemonculi, each of whom considers himself the foremost practitioner of the dark arts. Membership of the Coven is restricted to just eleven individuals at any time – the twelfth spot is left open for Urien Rakarth, should he ever deign to accept the Coven’s invitation. Since Haemonculi have a habit of overcoming death, the only way that a new aspirant can ascend to join the Twelve is to dispose of a current incumbent in a manner so thorough that even a master Haemonculus cannot undo it. Shegmeth Kro was pushed into a mirror dimension the size of a coffin too small for his frame. Khaebrys Xulfur was posed an impossible riddle that, with each wrong answer, turned more of his body into bone until finally he was nothing more than an osseous statue. Zakrodevia was rendered into a sentient soup using acids from captured Tyranids and then imbibed by his peers at a banquet. A warped arms race consumes the Coven of Twelve. Their quest to stay one step ahead of each other ensures these Haemonculi bear the deadliest devices their arcane science can yield. These tools of atrocity feature strongly in the arsenals of the Coven during their realspace raids – flesh gauntlets, electrocorrosive whips, null batons, mindphase gauntlets and even stranger weapons abound. Many of the Coven’s members are Scarlet Epicureans, their tastes for inventive fatalities so all-consuming they seek to experience them in person. Many of the Wracks in the service of the Twelve are flayed of their skin, their nerves left raw so they can better appreciate the full spectrum of sensation.
• The Dark Creed - Specialising in the arts of terror, the Haemonculi of the Dark Creed have a deep reverence for the indirect kill. They love nothing more than seeing their victims debase themselves in fear, and will drive their captives to madness or suicide purely to show they are above such primitive notions as physical intervention. Having long grown bored of traditional murder techniques, the Dark Creed believe it is the height of sophistication to end a victim’s life without making a direct attack. An abstract death, perhaps caused purely through heart-stopping emotion, is considered the finest victory. Aside from any aesthetic considerations, such a demise has the practical benefit of being difficult to trace. Even their Wracks prefer the esoteric kill; each cell boasts at least one liquifier gun, ossefactor or hexrifle with which to slay their targets from a distance, where their death throes can be enjoyed by all. It is because of their preference for unusual deaths that the Coven has a great many Cronos Parasite Engines in its number. Strung with blooded chains and grisly trophies, these constructs generate so much negative energy that they can kill without striking a single physical blow. Likewise, the Dark Creed's forces are often joined in battle by the night-clad denizens of Aelindrach, for that realm too thrives on the weaponisation of fear. During their realspace raids, the Coven is often accompanied by packs of Mandrakes that hurl soul-blistering balefire to terrorize their victims, before the Haemonculi close in for an elaborate kill.
• The Ebon Sting - The Ebon Sting is renowned for its exceptionally well-made Talos. Innovation is key to this Coven's artisans, and their respect is given only to those who can combine art with efficacy to create the ultimate war machine. From the revolting Black Jester, with its forest of macrosteroidal syringes, to the many-bladed Iron Dervish, the Engines of the Ebon Sting are true abominations. Yet it is for their forcibly administered poisons that the Coven is truly feared. The weapons of their Talos are coated in the Ebon Sting's signature elixir -– a black toxin derived from the rendered flesh of the worm-like nichtovermid. The moment it is introduced to the victim’s body, the toxin begins to replicate, manifesting dark and leprous blotches. Eyes harden into sightless orbs, and skin stiffens into black chitin. Soon, the victim has swollen and solidified into a shuddering chrysalis. This is taken back with the utmost care to adorn the Coven's galleries. Inside the agonised host, a new clutch of nichtovermids grows, chewing through flesh and bone to finally burst out in a geyser of stinking liquid that draws a ripple of polite applause from its audience.
• The Everspiral - The Haemonculi of the Everspiral consider even the lords of the other Covens to be rank amateurs. They are the most committed of all to the headlong plunge into depravity, believing themselves evil gods born to prey on the cusp of the mortal realm. Treading the downward spiral into the blackest depths of immorality is an unholy crusade for these monsters, and they do everything in their power to ensure each day is a little viler than the last. Because of their wholehearted dedication to the arts of evil, their ranks boast a great many Nadirists – those who seek to become deified not by ascending into the heavens, but by descending into the abyss. The Haemonculi of the Everspiral require even more anguish to survive than their fellow Covenites, and utilise Cronos Parasite Engines to better supply the soul-stuff that they require for nourishment. Amongst their number are those so ancient, so inured to the spectacle of suffering, that without the constant feedback loop of dark energy provided by a syphoning Cronos they would wither away to dust.
• The Hex - The Haemonculi of the Hex consider themselves to be the pre-eminent artists of flesh, with the entirety of realspace as their canvas. To construct truly impressive works they employ large cells of Wracks and Grotesques, mind-bound in much the same manner as hive organisms so they can be better suited to enact their master's artistic vision. Ever since their creation in the dark days that followed the Fall, the Coven has specialised in the fabrication of curses. Most of these are the product of baleful technologies, the effects of which have been refined to the point where –- in the eyes of the primitive races – they are indistinguishable from magic. However, some of the Coven's favourite curses truly border on the supernatural. It was the Hex that harnessed the Plague of Glass in 926.M36, their discoveries leading to the invention of the rifle that bears their name to this day. It was the Haemonculi of the Hex that refined the macrosteroidal effects of a stolen bone virus to create the ossefactor –- a weapon favoured by the Acothysts of their employ. They were even responsible for the creation of the fabled Orbs of Despair -– heavy black spheres so saturated with raw negativity they can reduce a grown man to a gibbering wreck in a heartbeat. The glee with which the Hex unleash their carefully cultivated curses upon an unsuspecting universe is palpable in its intensity, and the Haemonculi's thin lips curl back over their sharpened teeth as they drink in each fresh nightmare. However, the unbridled use of curses leaves its mark on the wielder as well as the victim. Those that deal with the Coven's most arcane weapons are often pale to the point of albinism, covered with inkblot discolouration, or possessed of a slight greenish pallor. Regardless of form, the servants of the Hex are always unsettling, their leers somehow obvious even behind their masks.
• The Prophets of Flesh - The Prophets of Flesh enjoy the favour of Urien Rakarth himself. So many aspirants seek their employ that each of the Prophets presides over thousands of Wracks. Upon induction into the Coven, each Wrack's limbs will be extensively branded, tattooed or altered according to his new master's whim. Should he impress his superiors with especially inventive acts of sadism, the Wrack will have one of his marked appendages cut off and replaced with a bare limb taken from the Prophets' flesh libraries. Those favoured few who make it to the lesser ranks of the Haemonculi will be entirely free of blemish. Though they become convinced of their own purity, the opposite is true, for in climbing the heights of status, the aspirant will have stained his soul. Many of the Prophets of Flesh dabble in soothsaying, despite the prohibition of psychic activity that pervades Commorragh. They seek to learn the truths of the universe not through the shaman's technique of reading entrails, but by interpreting the effects of the atrocities they wreak.

Notable Haemonculi

• Urien Rakarth - The being known as Urien Rakarth, the Sculptor of Torments, is twisted beyond measure, possessing such a mastery over the arts of the flesh that he has died and been resurrected back to life time and time again. Several standard thousand years old, he has been slain by nearly every known form of weapon and has suffered more grisly fates besides. A depraved genius in the fields of bodily manipulation and anatomical sculpture, Rakarth's skill as a fleshcrafter is legendary. Though he once enjoyed a senior position in the intrigues that bind Commorragh, he has transcended squabbles over power and prestige entirely. Now Rakarth exists only to revel in depravity. Ancient beyond the recollection of even the eldest Archon of the Dark City, Rakarth has been reborn from death so many times that even he can no longer keep count. So profoundly have these constant regenerations affected Urien's metabolism that his artificially toughened flesh is able to reknit and heal at an incredible rate –- Rakarth welcomes all forms of injury, especially upon the battlefield, for they force him to improvise. He carries a variety of strange weapons to war, including a horrific tool with which he can inject his own foul ichor into his unfortunate victims, bestowing upon them a hideous and agonising death. Nonetheless, this demented fiend is most rightly feared for the repugnant creations that shamble from his flesh-pens. His menagerie of horrors strains the sanity of all who behold it, and is made available by Rakarth to the highest Commorrite bidder.
• Bellathonis - A master Haemonculus who has studied in the Haemonculi Coven known as the Black Descent, as well as the ancient arts of the infamous Haemonculus Vlokarion, said to be second only to Urien Rakarth in his dark accomplishments. Bellathonis conspired with Archon Nyos Yllithian of the Kabal of the White Flames to resurrect the infamous Archon El'Uriaq in order to usurp the tyrannical overlord of Commorragh, Asdrubael Vect. Following the teachings of Vlokarion, Bellathonis was able to utilise the tortured screams of a pure Exodite Worldsinger to draw the long-dead Archon's lingering spirit from the destroyed outer-realm of Shaa-Dom. However, despite maintaining his personality and charisma, the resurrected Archon was also unknowingly possessed by a powerful Daemon. The unstable El'Uriaq destroyed the body of Bellathonis for a small slight, which forced the Master Haemonculus to spend weeks in a regeneration chamber attended by his Wracks. When he finally emerged, partially healed, he did so in order to warn Yllithian that the reborn El'Uriaq's body was, in fact, possessed and entirely controlled by one of the Neverborn of Chaos.
• Gruemeneal - Gruemeneal is a depraved Haemonculus who works in the service of the Kabal of the Black Heart. Journeying with Archon Tahril to the Kaurava System, Gruemeneal sought to capture a multitude of slaves for his own means, to torture and inflict upon them a symphony of pain.
• Maeloch Xholl - A powerful ancient within the Prophets of Flesh, Xholl regenerates the fallen warriors of the Flayed Skull. Some believe that he now owns more of the Kabalites' souls than they do themselves.
• Vlokarion - Second only to Urien Rakarth in his twisted accomplishments, Vlokarion was an infamous Haemonculus of Commorragh of some renown. The twisted Haemonculus was fascinated with the Eldar Exodites, the members of the Eldar race that rejected the slow degeneration of their ancient civilisation before the Fall of the Eldar and exiled themselves from the core homeworlds of the star-spanning Eldar empire for the newly-terraformed colony planets called Maiden Worlds. Vlokarion believed that during The Fall, the racial soul of the Eldar was divided -- with each portion embracing a specific aspect of the Eldar nature. The Haemonculus theorised that the Exodites embraced the purity of the Eldar Goddess Isha, and therefore, the dark energies extracted from their torments would be far more potent than those harvested from their Craftworld cousins or the lesser races such as the Mon-keigh (humans). He believed that by harnessing these captured energies one could potentially resurrect a mortal after he or she had been dead for millennia.

Arcane Wargear

Arcane wargear is extremely rare. Used only by the Haemonculi and their twisted minions, such devices are so strange in function that to a lesser mortal they seem like the tools of a magus or sorcerer:

• Archangel of Pain - The Archangel of Pain is an ornate casket that contains the essence of a captured daemon, driven insane by the runes of binding that hold it within. Upon the daemon's release it appears as a winged, blinding figure before returning to the Warp, its triumphant screams incapacitating even the bravest foe.
• Animus Vitae - The Animus Vitae is a special close-combat weapon. This detestable creation resembles a tightly-packed sphere of sentient barbed wire that can be made to explode outwards, capturing its prey and then contracting quickly to cut apart its victim. The psychic by-product is highly invigorating to those with the strength of will to consume it.
• Casket of Flensing - When the Casket of Flensing is opened and the activation words spoken, invisible spirits fly outwards towards the bearer's prey. Before long the Haemonculus' foes find themselves covered in dozens of circular bites that manifest in flesh and armour alike. If enough of the bearer's ethereal imps find their mark, they will strip their prey's head clean of flesh, pull the skull free from the spine, and carry their grisly trophy back to their Haemonculus master whilst the brain inside writhes in abject terror.
• Crucible of Malediction - The Crucible of Malediction is referred by Haemonculi as "the kin-gift," for this extraordinary weapon is especially dangerous to their Craftworld cousins. Each Crucible contains the essence of psykers captured and tortured until death. When released, their unquiet spirits hurtle across the battlefield, shrieking and crying in a cacophony that drives nearby psykers insane.
• Dark Gate - A Dark Gate is a runic tetrahedron that opens a portal to one of the forbidden zones of the Webway. Many impossible entities make their lairs in these sealed-off fragments, and an open portal is an irresistible lure. Shortly after the dark gate is cast into the fray, a grasping tentacle or flickering pseudopod lashes out form the gate and crushes anyone it can catch in its clammy grasp.
• Flesh Gauntlet - A Flesh Gauntlet is a claw-glove crammed with syringe-like protrusions and vials which can inject potent electrosteroids that force rapid and unnatural growth. Its victim will literally outgrow his own skin, bursting apart in a welter of steaming, heaving matter.
• Hexrifle - The long-barrelled Hexrifle fires crystal cylinders that each contain a tiny amount of the glass plague that assailed the Dark City of Commorragh in the 36th Millennium. On contact with bare flesh, the hexrifle's arcance payload spreads quickly, turning its victim into a transparent statue with an expression of shock etched upon its visage forevermore.
• Liquifier Gun - The Liquefier Gun fires a spray of incredibly potent acid that eats through anything it touches. Wracks, Grotesques and other minions of the Haemonculi covens often have Liquifier Guns built into their bodies so that they can fire out great gouts of their own acidic blood. The amount of devastation wreaked by this fearsome weapon depends on how much of its vitriolic ammunition splashes over its target.
• Orb of Despair - An Orb of Despair is a heavy black sphere that has sat within the oubliettes of the Haemonculi for millennia, absorbing the pain and horror of the damned souls trapped within. When hurled at the ground, it sends out shockwaves of negative emotional energy that plunge those around into the darkest reaches of anguish.
• Scissorhand - The Scissorhand is a close-combat weapon that looks a little like a pair of surgical shears bearing expensive toxins so that its wielder can better incapacitate those whose limbs it amputates.
• Shattershard - The legendary Shattershards were originally a part of a complex transdimensional portal called the Mirror of Planes. Since the portal's destruction, each shard has been painstakingly tracked down and weaponised by the demented genius Vorsch. By catching the enemy's reflections in the Shattershard and then breaking it to pieces, those reflected will find themselves shattered into pieces too.
• Stinger Pistol - A Stinger Pistol is a lightweight sidearm characterised by a long, syringe-like barrel and a venom reservoir that holds searingly potent toxins. When fired, it ejects a long sliver of hollow glass that can pierce a foe's skin and introduces the toxins straight into the bloodstream, invariably with horrific results.

Sources

• Codex: Dark Eldar (7th Edition), pp. 15, 43, 71-84, 92-93, 114, 150-154, 169, 223
• Codex: Dark Eldar (5th Edition), pp. 37, 54, 60-61
• Deathwatch: The Outer Reach (RPG) pg. 60-61
• Haemonculus Covens - A Codex: Dark Eldar Supplement (7th Edition)
• Warhammer 40,000 Rulebook (6th Edition), pp. 206-209
• Path of the Renegade (Novel) by Andy Chambers
• Dawn of War: Soulstorm (PC Game)

Gallery

Vakillar U'riss, Dark Eldar Haemonculus and Mistress of the Theatre of Pain

A Haemonculus prepares for combat

A Haemonculus in combat

The Master Haemonculus Urien Rekarth, prepped and ready for surgery

A Dark Eldar Haemonculus Ancient of the Coven of the Crawling Dark

A Haemonculi Coven realspace raid