The Cult of Pain and Pleasure
Malathella turned around as Zholtan entered her chambers, his huge armored bulk stalking through the double doors, held open by her personal guard.
"Tell me, my pet, is it done?" - she purred.
"It is done my mistress, the artifact is ours" - Zholtan said as he kneeled before her.
"Good, and the guards?" - She stroked her hand over his grace full horns. Her obsidian skin a stark contrast to the bone horns
"Most dead my mistress, except the ogors as you commanded, they have been sent to the Flesh Crafters"
"Gooood, my pet. Send the dead ones to Countess Celina, she will be pleased"
"Yes my mistress". His fist thumped against his breastplate and he strode out of her rooms.
He really had turned out remarkably, proving that even the vaunted Warriors of Sigmar could be twisted by her and her sisters arts, broken by enough painful pleasure. His fleshcrafted form was now a perfect remorseless killing machine.
The Cult of Pain and Pleasure is a cult of exiled dark aelfs. Exiled from their kin for their perverse skills and devotion to Slaanesh. Highly adept at remolding individuals to their needs, through a lengthy ordeal of inflicting excruciating pain and pleasure. The cult has discovered ways to re craft the creatures of this wild lands, sculpt their bones and flesh in to never, better forms. Forms suited for the task of breaching the heavens and rescuing their goddess. Warriors dedicated to the gods of Chaos has begun flocking to the banner of Pleasure, lured by the prospects of conquest.
The goddess of Slaanesh will be set free.
The Army of Midnight
Countess Celine lounged in her luxurious bed, stretching her impossibly alluring body. The vampiress looked over at her "lover" , his emancipated form locked in the last throes of pleasure. They always tasted better when their bodies where full of endorphins. The skills she had learned from her ally, and friend Malathella, had proved amazing at heightening the tastes and effects of the blood that sustained her. She has never been as powerful, or felt as alive, as she did now.
The night air drifting though the silk curtains, was filled with the sounds of industry. The fortress of Nephelim was taking shape, being carved into the mountain peak. The empire of the dead she would carve out of this land would rival even that of the great Necromancer himself.
The Army of Midnight, is the army of the Countess Celine Zardophian. A vampiress of exquisite beauty and ambition. Not content of being an underling of the great necromancer himself, she set out to carve an empire of the dead out of these lands.
The lands fought back though, harder then she could have thought. Bound to fail and perish, Celines luck changed when she happened upon the convoy of Dark Aelfs and chaos warriors, led by Malathella. Both had a bleak future in sight, but together they have become a powerful force. The undead legion has swelled. Skeleton warriors, black knights, wights even spirits do her bidding now. With Malathellas aid, Celine has even begun constructing her own version on the great necromancers Morghasts and other constructs.