Dressed in the red robes of a novice, the apprentice Lamentors scurry to do the bidding of their masters, inflicting rote torture, preparing the food, disposing of the refuse and subject to only minor bodily modifications themselves. A nose here, an ear there, maybe a patch of flayed cheek. Instinct: To inflict pain

• Obey the Lamentors
• Bind with ropes

The brass bull, a nightmarish construct powered by the damned victim in its belly. The bull's mighty roars are the agonized screams of the person trapped inside, their pain fueling its fury, and the smoke billowing from its nostrils carries with it the perfume of roasting meat. Instinct: To roast them

• Bellow rage and fire
• Thunderous charge

Head of the Order of Lamentation, Pope of the Emperor Despair, Bishop Wrack wants the world to feel his pain. After the Order's development of The Despair Engine, he has become more active, energized. He bristles with an unholy purpose and seeks to use the Blood Plague to drive the world to Despair, empowering his god beyond all others. Like his fellow Lamentors he is cowled in black and trails heavy chain, but his bodily modification far-outstrips his followers. Devoid of any recognizable facial feature, his skinless mask is a slimy mass of muscle and bone, sharpened teeth and lidless eyes. The dark magics that prevent his flesh from healing sustain him indefinitely and give him total control over the wicked chains that clink and rattle behind him. The flayed skin on his back hangs loose like a cloak of flesh until he leaps into flight, the awful flapping of his wings spattering the ground with blood. Instinct: To discover the limits of pain

• Extol the virtues of torture
• Regenerate through inflicting pain
• Bind with magical hooked chains
• Summon Lamentors
• Take flight

Members of the Order of Lamentation serve The Emperor Despair, god of blood and torment. They ritualistically mutilate themselves in fell rites, dedicating themselves to agony. Wreathed in black cowls and dragging heavy chains behind them, they intoxicate the mind with visions of forbidden pleasure until they are close enough to slice off a nose, extract an eye. Instinct: To bring forth Despair

• Inflict tortures
• Reveal nightmarish mutilation
• Bind with magical chains
• Confuse with visions of temptation

Victims of the Blood Plague, feral vampires cluster together in subterranean nests, ranging out at night to massacre the unwary. Moving in large groups, they devour all they find and infect survivors with the a rabid strain of vampirism which drains reduces the sufferer to a frenzied, blood-hungry state. Naked and deformed, they are uncannily agile and bastard-fast. Instinct: To eat blood

• Pass on the Blood Plague
• Swarm them
• Be distracted by blood

Wherever vicious people gather with ill-intent, the most wicked and cunning will rise to the top and impose their will on the others. They may be greedy, bloodthirsty or just desperate, but whatever the case, if you're not in their immediate social circle, you're fair game. Sometimes, even if you are. Instinct: To take everything, give nothing

• Bully the weak
• Throw dirt in their eyes
• Rally bandits
• Demand tribute
• Make a show of force

Dion the Warrior, a proud hero laid low by a mind-controlling entity. Forced from his own body, he resides in a pitiful husk while his reputation is shattered, his name dragged through the mud and the bodies keep piling up. A prominent defender of the weak subverted utterly and turned to wickedness. The creature controlling his body is delighted by his mighty sword, his crocodile arm and razor-edged shield. Others, not so much. Instinct: To seek combat

• Crush with reptile arm
• Swap bodies with a kiss
• Sunder armour
• Murder the weak

Draped with fine silver chains that run from lip to gill, scales set with precious stones and wrapped in diaphanous silk, the icthid priesthood are resplendent. Sporting the largest and most potent spines, their scales are brightly colored, often shining like gold. For every hundred icthids spawned, only one will rise to the priesthood. They are the most intelligent, ruthless and powerful examples of the icthid species, and will stop at nothing to achieve their aims. Instinct: To display Icthid superiority

• Dominate the mind
• Create illusory nightmares
• Invoke the Deep Chant
• Paralyze with psychic agony
• Summon attendants

Drawn from captured aquatic and land races, the Icthid priesthood purges the mind of their slaves and fits them with gills, instilling in them a desire to serve their masters and leaving nothing of the person they were. They are used for performing mundane tasks which might require contact with scale or flesh, and serve as levy forces in an armed conflict. Instinct: Obey the Icthid masters

• Drag into the water
• Entange with nets
• Take a blow intended for an Icthid

Often considered kin to the mer-folk, the icthid people are a race of their own. Possessing large, fish-like heads and slender limbs, their colours range from dull grey to vibrant orange. Social standing is associated with psychic power and the size of the spiny dorsal crest that runs from the top of their heads down their spines. A hierarchical society, the ichthids have strong concepts of duty and religion, trusting their priesthood completely. As a species, they disdain physical contact of any kind, and frequently capture other races, even land-dwellers, to use as mind-controlled slaves. Instinct: To serve the priesthood

• Blast with psychic dart
• Whisper alien suggestions into the mind
• Rake with venomous spines
• Summon ichthid slaves