The Idoneth Deepkin are the shame of the aelven kindreds, born incomplete when Teclis reforged the aelf-souls harvested from Slaanesh. Their spirits are malformed and fading, and so the Idoneth are cursed to hunger for the souls of others, sustaining their frail lives by ripping the essence from screaming victims. Ashamed of their nature, they hid themselves in the lightless deeps, raising ghostly enclaves in the trenches of the world-oceans.
The Idoneth Deepkin rise from the sea in the Ethersea, a spectral tide that rolls across dry land, allowing their sharks and eels and soul-raiding cavalry to swim through the air as through water. Their raids come without warning and end in eerie silence, whole villages left standing yet emptied of every living soul, the wells of memory drained dry.
Divided into isolationist enclaves, the Idoneth guard their existence with murderous secrecy, striking so swiftly that survivors doubt their own senses. They wage a quiet, desperate war against extinction, and reckon the theft of a stranger's soul a mercy weighed against the death of their own children. Beautiful, sorrowful and utterly without pity, they are the drowned conscience of the aelven race.
The bestiary continues
