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| - The most deadly of her kind, Lelith's skill in the arts of combat bear all the hallmarks of true genius. Lelith is deadly grace embodied, her movements hypnotic, sensual and spellbinding -- watching Lelith go about her blood-soaked business is a privilege that only the wealthiest Dark Eldar can afford. To see such a superbly talented Succubus perform first-hand is a dream come true for most Kabalites, for it energises and reinvigorates even the eldest of their kind. Though the purr of her voice has been likened to honeyed velvet, Lelith rarely speaks, for she is an artist, not a politician. Nonetheless, her pronouncements are always carried out to the letter by her handmaidens, the Wyches of the Cult of Strife, who look in jealous awe at their mistress' flawless form and supernatural physical dexterity. On the eve before a realspace raid, Lelith will often pad like a hunting cat into the halls of an Archon preparing for battle, flanked by dozens of her hand-picked Wych acolytes. Lady Hesperax blesses raiding Kabals with her presence in this manner only in order to search out unusual prey; she loves to match her abilities against the most formidable elites and champions of the other starfaring species in the galaxy. She has yet to return without blood upon her blades and a new clutch of grisly trophies for her private museums of pain. Alone amongst the Wych Cults, Lelith does not use combat drugs to enhance her performance. Lelith's disciples, the Cult of Strife, maintain that their mistress needs nothing more than a piece of edged steel to outclass her foes. Sure enough, although she is expert in the use of all the exotic weapons used by her deadly kind, Lelith can most often be seen in the arena fighting with two simple but exquisitely weighted daggers. The harpies of the rival Wych Cults whisper that Lelith's incredible skill comes from an unnatural source -- that she has somehow persuaded the Haemonculi to replace her blood with hyperadrenaline, that as a child she suckled upon a steroid-syringe, that she sleeps in a baryonic sarcophagus filled to the brim with stimulant serum. The truth is far simpler -- like all born predators, Lelith prefers to fight up close. The use of combat drugs is for the weak, for they corrupt the perception of the instant when the killing strike hits home and the dying's lifeblood flows forth. It is impossible to savour the delicate nuances of death when one's senses have been polluted by intoxicants. To forsake such chemical enhancement would usually mean death in the lightning-fast death matches of the Dark City's arenas, yet so great is Lelith's skill that her flesh remains flawless. In combat, Lelith uses her body as a weapon as well as her flashing blades. Her mane of silky hair is sewn through with barbs and hooks that she uses to snare the blades of her foes in much the same manner as the shardnets of the xenos Yraqnae. Her long legs and feet are edged with spurs, the better to tear open a throat with a perfect pirouette kick, and her fingernails have been reinforced and honed to the sharpness and surgical precision of a scalpel. Lelith can kill a dozen lesser warriors in the space of a few seconds, her blades tracing a path between each fatal slash, before finishing with a flourish and the attainment of perfect poise. Vid-captures of her doing so are traded throughout Commorragh and beyond by those with a twisted taste for violence. Perhaps, her spectators often say, it is not only mortals who gaze with such rapt attention as Lelith completes her deadly and beautiful dance of death.
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