To die is the only privilege we will ever allow you.
Archon Fazar to the captives of Selus IV
M39.202.90
The Forgotten ones
We are the most feared and talked about race in the universe, and also the most misunderstood. Since our separation from our weaker brethren thousands of years ago, many tales have surfaced about us, most of which are false or wildly inaccurate. We are the Naggaroth and we are many. Your own Imperial historians often confuse us with our brethren the Eldar, who occupy the few surviving Craftworld's that float endlessly among the stars.
True we are of the Eldar race, but we are as far removed from our pathetic brothers as you are from an Amoeba. We are often linked with the forces of Chaos too. Of course some of us do follow that pathway, but most of us are enlightened enough to realise that it is only a path to damnation that they follow and one best avoided. Our goals are as many and varied as any race, but perhaps the one thing that we live for ensures that our reputation often precedes us wherever we go. We live for the thrill of war and destruction.
To understand the people of our race you must cast your mind back through the dark mists of time and space. Almost a thousand years before the great Fall of our cousins we left the realms of normal space and moved here to Commorragh, a home we often call the Dusk Realm due to it's perpetual twilight. Commorragh exists in a section of what you would call subspace, neither in or out of reality, just somewhere in-between. Our space is vast and from here we can launch attacks on anywhere in the universe we desire.
Like our cousins, we use a form of what you would call technology that allows us to utilise the warp to our own devices. From here we can launch our black ships to attack worlds and outposts, capture slaves, and reek as much destruction as we desire. The capture of slaves is an essential part of our tradition and one that we excel at. We use slaves for a great many reasons and practices. Some are used for labour, mining the vast complex of Dexterium mines that pocket our realm. Dexterium is toxic to us {as most races} but it's essential to power our weapons, ships and such. We use vast quantities of the black powder for our own needs. Of course it takes many thousands of slaves to extract the ore needed, and life expectancy for them is far from short. Slaves are also used for other needs. The Haemonculi are our torturers and advisers, to them there is no pain or suffering too great. These masters of the dark arts are adept at extracting both information and pleasure from those that end up in their presence and often perform vile experiments that not only fuse slaves and machine together, but can also vanquish the very soul of the living being to be used for our own pleasures.
Other slaves that show promise may be inducted into one of the many Wych Cults and used as warriors. The slaves are altered so that they will never show any resistance to us and are indoctrinated into our causes. They will gladly lay down their worthless lives just to raise a smile from us, which brings us great joy indeed. Many of the best slaves are Humans, and often when we capture members of your Imperial Guard or Space Marines we will attempt to convert them to our goals. Of course the conversion process is not without it's flaws and we tend to lose more than we convert, but those that do survive make excellent drones, some may even rise in the ranks to become Wyches themselves!
Ours is a struggle of power. A wheel within a wheel that is constantly turning. We fight among ourselves for petty reasons, power, and even just because we can. The assassination of ones foes is common place and we often hire out Mandrakes or Wyches to do the task for us. The shadow skinned Mandrakes strike without mercy and will take no quarter in their tasks, blending into the shadows, striking and then vanishing without a trace. Of course sometimes it is necessary to make an example of some Archon or Dracon who has made a nuisance of themselves.
For this purpose we will use the Wyches who will make as much of a mess as we deem fit. All these services are not free and we must make a restitution to the leader of the cult, which is normally in the form of X'trse or what you would call souls. We have developed the ability of the millennia to extract the very life essence from a body at the moment of death. This dose involve a lot of suffering for the victim, but it pleases us greatly. X'trse is used for a variety of differing reasons. Some of us take pleasure in hoarding these souls, keeping them as trophies on display, in fact a measure of power can be attributed to the number of X'trse one has on display in the halls of suffering (I have over ten thousand) but that isn't the only reason we extract souls.
As I mentioned earlier we are not of Chaos! To many of us the thoughts of condemning ourselves to the worship and followings of the pathetic gods of the warp is ridiculous. The Naggaroth do share a similar fate to our Eldar cousins however. If we die our souls are claimed by Slannessh the vile chaos lord of pleasure and despair. The Eldar use waystones and spritstones to capture their X'trse on release at the moment of death, if this is prevented then their soul is consumed by Slannessh. We don't use such devices, instead we collect souls of other races (and sometimes of our own if need be) and sacrifice them instead.
There is a hidden sect among our ranks known only as the Soul Hunters whose only task is the collection of souls for this purpose. They scour battlefields and hunt for the dying like carrion. Dressed completely in almost obsidian black, Soul Hunters are chosen from the elite of all the sects and to refuse this honour is to condemn yourself and your family to the warp. Soulhunters are armed with the most lethal of weapons and can often be seen wielding their large Soul Scythes in combat. Each weapon will suck the soul from the foe if a wound is struck. Many believe that Kurellagh the Vile is in fact the head of the Soul Hunters sect, but none are foolish enough to challenge her over this fact!
We have fought on many battlefields, against many foes, and always we strive to perfect the arts of war. Entire Chapters of Space Marines have died screaming under our blades, Ork clans have been wiped out completely, and many millions of humans have joined the slaves for our pleasure. We are not without enemies of course. Our pathetic kinsmen have tried in vein for centuries to find a way to Commorragh, but met only with despair and death in the warp. The Tyranid forces still try to assimilate us to their own needs, but have yet to find entry to Commorragh and our Crone worlds. Perhaps our greatest foe is the smallest in the galaxy.
For many thousands of years, almost since our birth in fact, we have fought against our nemeses the Squats. These diminutive humanoid's will fight us at every turn. We destroy their ancient worlds and they hunt us down. Many of our Crone worlds have fallen to the hands of these stout little warriors and they are a constant thorn in our sides. In recent years the Tyranid push into the galaxy has destroyed most of the remaining Squat homeworlds, forcing them to flee and travel the universe in huge ships of ancient design. It is still classed among my people as a bad omen to bring the soul of a Squat as a trophy. We have however in the past caught and tamed a few of these little people and some of them will fight alongside us in battle. These Berserkers live only to serve us and make an excellent addition to our forces. Perhaps it is this reason that makes them despise us so.
You can despise us. You can hate us. But above all things you should fear us.
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