An in-depth guide to the Strigoi, the most tragic and monstrous of the vampire bloodlines. Explore their fall from grace, their rule over the ghoulish damned, and their key figures from Warhammer's history.
Amongst the myriad vampire bloodlines that stalk the Old World, none are so reviled, nor so pitiable, as the Strigoi. To most mortals, they are little more than ravening beasts—hulking ghouls that lurk among the tombs and feast upon the flesh of the dead. Yet this is only the surface of their story. The Strigoi are not nameless monsters, but the broken remnants of a proud dynasty, founded by the great Ushoran, once the noble "Lord of Masks" in Nehekhara, now condemned to rule only over carrion and madness.
Where the Von Carsteins cloak themselves in velvet and silver, the Strigoi wear their curse openly, shunned by their kin as a foul reminder of the Beast that dwells within all their kind. Their bodies has warped their bodies into grotesque parodies of their former majesty: hunched, bat-like creatures with clawed hands and feral visages. What fragments of their nobility remain exist only as bitter memories, manifested in crowns of bone, tatters of regalia, or the hollow echo of a courtly gesture. They are kings still—but kings of the grave, their subterranean empires populated by packs of ghouls and horrors.
The bloodline’s name derives from Strigos, their ancient capital, a once-vibrant city that stood as a beacon of civilization before it was cast into ruin through a great betrayal by their own kind. In its ashes began the decline of the Strigoi, scattering Ushoran’s brood into the wastelands and condemning them to a slow, terrible degeneration.
And yet, for all their debasement, the Strigoi remain vampires. Behind their monstrous masks gleam minds of cunning and hunger, still capable of great feats of war and terror. They embody the beast within every immortal—a reminder to their kin of what lies at the end of the path of damnation. To the living they are nightmares. To other vampires they are a warning. To themselves, they are kings betrayed, cursed to endure when all else has been taken.
Where the Von Carsteins cloak themselves in velvet and silver, the Strigoi wear their curse openly, shunned by their kin as a foul reminder of the Beast that dwells within all their kind. Their bodies has warped their bodies into grotesque parodies of their former majesty: hunched, bat-like creatures with clawed hands and feral visages. What fragments of their nobility remain exist only as bitter memories, manifested in crowns of bone, tatters of regalia, or the hollow echo of a courtly gesture. They are kings still—but kings of the grave, their subterranean empires populated by packs of ghouls and horrors.
The bloodline’s name derives from Strigos, their ancient capital, a once-vibrant city that stood as a beacon of civilization before it was cast into ruin through a great betrayal by their own kind. In its ashes began the decline of the Strigoi, scattering Ushoran’s brood into the wastelands and condemning them to a slow, terrible degeneration.
And yet, for all their debasement, the Strigoi remain vampires. Behind their monstrous masks gleam minds of cunning and hunger, still capable of great feats of war and terror. They embody the beast within every immortal—a reminder to their kin of what lies at the end of the path of damnation. To the living they are nightmares. To other vampires they are a warning. To themselves, they are kings betrayed, cursed to endure when all else has been taken.
- Next page: History of the Strigoi
