Karl Richardson

I've read this a bunch of times over the years, but it never ceases to amaze!

The Thrice Born Heretical Saint and one of the greatest to bear the bob and Bolter of the Adepta Sororitas, Ephrael Stern, continues her one-woman crusade to hold the galaxy record for most jumps between an eternal succession of frying pans and fires, as she reckons with what she is becoming after the bizarre torrent of memories of centuries of Sisters of Battle and searches for a way to hurt Slaanesh in a way that doesn't just make them more horny.

In the first volume eleven was already in the distance, so Emperor knows what this is cranked up to now with apostate priests of the Dark Prinze and Black Templars under his thrall, a non-psyker Inquisitor who cosplays as an Astartes, goes Gamora in Commorragh, makes a Pariah pal who gives her a phenomenal view of the Webway--seriously, Kev Walker went absolutely wild with a spread of all manner of Eldar, portals, and at least one of pretty much every vehicle you could find parked on a Craftworld at time of publication--it's wild!

It truly fills my cold, heretical heart with joy to see the Imperium
and the wider galaxy presented in its ridiculously grim, ludicrously epic, and perfectly awful. I feel like as time's gone on the chances of a member of the Inquisition being a pure vessel for evil, tainted by Chaos or just a sadistic bastard, but in Daemonifuge a couple of good ones exist, a one is already lost in the Abyss and reduced to making vague, ominous ghost calls, while the rest are doing the witch walk from Hocus Pocus dressing in ways that would make George Miller say that look to ridiculous and evil. It's horribly glorious.

Walker's art truly is something else and absolutely bursts off the page, making you see the colours of the Warp, despite being in black and white (I really do need to finally track down and get my hands on the 20th Anniversary Colour edition), and the script is silly in its seriousness, which is totally the vibe.

I think the only thing I take any issue with, braids the blasphemy of putting a Battle Sister in Wych's ludicrously tiny knickers, is the not as bad arse a line as it thinks it is when Ephrael says something to the effect of 'I'm no frail, scared woman! You see the bob!? That means I'm Mrs Hereticus'. Well she says at t lesdt the first bit, which, when you're already the gnarliest SoB in the Imperium, a heretical saint with centuries of other Battle Sisters in your mind, force lightning, and a friend who used to be a Harlequin, you really don't have to do misogyny to prove how epic and not like other girls you are.

This really series was one of those first big bits of Warhammer media of a quality, along with things like Gaunt's Ghosts, and the Horus Heresy series that lead to the popularity of the galaxy far beyond the tabletop that made it possible for us to end up with the various media goodies we get to enjoy today, like the stack of genuinely great video games in the vast sea of Warhammer IP, the Horus Heresy series itself, and, I'm not sure if I'm in the minority with this or not, but in my personal opinion, phenemonal animations like Hammer and Bolter, Pariah Nexus, Angels of Death, and Astartes.

Epic comic is epic, even without a Titan in sight...damn, I really do need to reacquainted with Imperius Dictatio after rhe next volume of this!… (meer)