Many the biased lives, many the desolate lands and many their names under which the deadly and deadly lady with the scythe is camouflaged. Whether they are the 4 horsemen of the Apocalypse, the black plagues or the fearsome pandemics that devastated humanity. It all starts with the dire omens that announce his coming, the sinister squawk of the crows and the dark songs of the owl, then the sepulchral darkness plunges us into a deep sleep from which we will not awaken. The Exodus tells us of the arrival of 10 plagues (מכות מצרים) that fell on Egypt, in the form of blood first staining its rivers; invaded by frogs, lice, flies and lobsters; like pests and diseases on humans and livestock, until plunging into blackness with the death of the firstborn. Will we be saved from the abyss?

American Indians: Great warriors, farmers and nomads. Sacred tribes with ancestral ties set among themselves throughout Alaska, Hawaii and the rest of EEUU, that formed the millenarian culture of the “red skins”. Native Americans like the Sioux, Arapajoes, Apache, Cheyenne or Cherokee and their famous leaders such as Geronimo, Crazy Horse, Sitting Bull that evoke the epic struggles of the Conquest of the Wild West.

The supreme product of Indian civilization was the warrior. His prototype contains a wealth of virtues that make him an admirable figure. And to be a good warrior as the Indians understood it, it was not enough to have extraordinary courage; He had to be, too, generous, detached, austere, noble: in short, a true gentleman, a true knight: a way of life and a "way of perfection”.

There is a legend that says that in a place in the Pacific called Teaoturoa, lived a handsome warrior named Mataora who was captivated by the exotic and irresistible beauty of a woman from the underworld, daughter of Uetonga, descendant of the goddess of the night and the god of earthquakes and named Niwareka. He was so captivated that he asked her to marry him and she agreed to stay in his world. Things worked until one unfortunate day the brave Mataora went into a rage and violently mistreated the princess. Drowning in her sadness, she left her husband, returning to Rarohenga, to her old underground life. The clouds wept, the trees screamed, the rivers bled ... the warrior's supplications echoed in the depths of the earth. Sorry for his actions, he descended in search of his beloved to implore her forgiveness. Uetonga, who recognized him when he arrived, gave a great laugh because the hero's body paint had been erased along the way. Naked with shame, he exposed his pain in tears of regret, to which the merciful King forgave him by permanently tattooing him and showing him the art of Ta Moko. Reconciled, they returned from the afterlife, where they taught generation after generation this traditional Maori tattoo technique from New Zealand.

There is a legend that says that in a place in the Pacific called Teaoturoa, lived a handsome warrior named Mataora who was captivated by the exotic and irresistible beauty of a woman from the underworld, daughter of Uetonga, descendant of the goddess of the night and the god of earthquakes and named Niwareka. He was so captivated that he asked her to marry him and she agreed to stay in his world. Things worked until one unfortunate day the brave Mataora went into a rage and violently mistreated the princess. Drowning in her sadness, she left her husband, returning to Rarohenga, to her old underground life. The clouds wept, the trees screamed, the rivers bled ... the warrior's supplications echoed in the depths of the earth. Sorry for his actions, he descended in search of his beloved to implore her forgiveness. Uetonga, who recognized him when he arrived, gave a great laugh because the hero's body paint had been erased along the way. Naked with shame, he exposed his pain in tears of regret, to which the merciful King forgave him by permanently tattooing him and showing him the art of Ta Moko. Reconciled, they returned from the afterlife, where they taught generation after generation this traditional Maori tattoo technique from New Zealand.

There is a legend that says that in a place in the Pacific called Teaoturoa, lived a handsome warrior named Mataora who was captivated by the exotic and irresistible beauty of a woman from the underworld, daughter of Uetonga, descendant of the goddess of the night and the god of earthquakes and named Niwareka. He was so captivated that he asked her to marry him and she agreed to stay in his world. Things worked until one unfortunate day the brave Mataora went into a rage and violently mistreated the princess. Drowning in her sadness, she left her husband, returning to Rarohenga, to her old underground life. The clouds wept, the trees screamed, the rivers bled ... the warrior's supplications echoed in the depths of the earth. Sorry for his actions, he descended in search of his beloved to implore her forgiveness. Uetonga, who recognized him when he arrived, gave a great laugh because the hero's body paint had been erased along the way. Naked with shame, he exposed his pain in tears of regret, to which the merciful King forgave him by permanently tattooing him and showing him the art of Ta Moko. Reconciled, they returned from the afterlife, where they taught generation after generation this traditional Maori tattoo technique from New Zealand.

The first warriors of the Iberian Peninsula were fierce and faithful Iberians who defended with their death their warlords. They were expert riders who carried bows, arrows and the feared Falcata that they used until the end of the battle. Just like the men, the women, in addition to devoting themselves to cattle and cultivation, also participated in the warrior life and in the Assembly where the important decisions of the tribal states were taken. Dedicated to the cult of female deities (symbol of creation & fertility), they also offered rites to the Sun and the Moon. In their temples, adorned with sculptures of sacred wolves —representing the warrior ardour, the cult of the night, the guide in the beyond— magical ceremonies were celebrated by priestesses such as the famous Lady of Elche.

You were a humble peasant who barely knew how to read & write. In your native Domremí countryside you heard voices & embarked on an uncertain destiny to liberate France from the English. Together with your faithful soldiers, you raised your banner & launched yourself in suicidal acts until liberating the siege of Orleans & crowning your dolphin. That was your glorious rise that preceded your terrible end. They betrayed you & accused you of heresy. A scorching fire ended your life.

Were you perhaps God's chosen one or a madwoman driven by schizophrenia & hallucinations? Be that as it may, you were the maiden acclaimed by your people, the fervent heroine that you faced against all the powers of the earth until you almost won the Hundred Years War. Today Joan, your name is already a legend.

Life is an adventure and we must not let it escape, do not you want to discover everything that this world offers you? Do not wait for the deathbed to look back and regret what you have not done all this time. Now is your opportunity, it is your moment, throw yourself on the horizon, take flight and cross borders, navigate to the beyond with the decision and courage of an eagle. Fortune favors the andes and daring, rest assured that the gods will reward you.

We are the horsemen who ride with beasts of pipes and steel based on black fuel, in this hostile land, the roads are nightmares, the cities are deserts and humanity feeds on men... the leaders cannot stop this avalanche, the storm from fear…

Driven by this confusion full of frustrated dreams, we unscrupulously take revenge on the burdens, we will annihilate with our sword, with hunger, with death and with the beasts...

The great earthquake dyes the sun black and the blood moon, the stars fall from the sky...

The great day has come... in the midst of this chaos hope will resurface...

Don't you want to ride like a horseman from the Apocalypse to hell itself carrying this iron cross? Discover new horizons and new worlds, cross the wild nature flying free to the ends of the Universe. Be bold, break barriers, the rules if necessary, help your people and do not forget that the trophy you carry is a symbol of loyalty, companionship, courage, rebellion and freedom.

We are the horsemen who ride with beasts of pipes and steel based on black fuel, in this hostile land, the roads are nightmares, the cities are deserts and humanity feeds on men... the leaders cannot stop this avalanche, the storm from fear…

Driven by this confusion full of frustrated dreams, we unscrupulously take revenge on the burdens, we will annihilate with our sword, with hunger, with death and with the beasts...

The great earthquake dyes the sun black and the blood moon, the stars fall from the sky...

The great day has come... in the midst of this chaos hope will resurface...

La Estantigua (in Castilian tradition), Güestia or Bona Xente (in Asturian mythology), Corteju de Genti de Muerti (in Extremadura), Estadea (in Zamora), Hueste de Ánimas (in León), Vision, La Huespeda… different names to refer to the Santa Compaña, that group of wandering hooded ghosts, a dark army of souls in pain that wandered in the gloomy night through the towns, forests and crossroads as an omen of death. To know its origin, we must go back to Germanic paganism (Wild Hunt — whose evolution under the medieval Christian veil would give the gloomy spectral procession Mesnie Hellequin—) and Celtic (the Sluagh or the Fairy Host) related to omens of wars, plagues, diseases future and acts of gathering souls.

You were a humble peasant who barely knew how to read & write. In your native Domremí countryside you heard voices & embarked on an uncertain destiny to liberate France from the English. Together with your faithful soldiers, you raised your banner & launched yourself in suicidal acts until liberating the siege of Orleans & crowning your dolphin. That was your glorious rise that preceded your terrible end. They betrayed you & accused you of heresy. A scorching fire ended your life.

Were you perhaps God's chosen one or a madwoman driven by schizophrenia & hallucinations? Be that as it may, you were the maiden acclaimed by your people, the fervent heroine that you faced against all the powers of the earth until you almost won the Hundred Years War. Today Joan, your name is already a legend.

Quién eres? De dónde vienes?

No importa, de muy lejos. Venía a conquistar tu tierra, pero ya no puedo…

Inténtalo si te atreves!!, ¿acaso crees que no domino el arte de la naginata?

No voy a luchar contigo… ¿Y eso? ¿el aroma a sakura ha nublado tu ardor guerrero?

Quizá, pero ahora sé que no he surcado con mis naves hasta los confines del universo solo para someteros

¿Someternos? Jamás os vi ni oí hablar de vosotros, pero tu odio jamás nos detendrá…

¿Es que no lo entiendes? No son tu sol, tu espada y tus crisantemos blancos por lo que descansa mi furia

Quédate entonces y verás florecer los cerezos…

This is our tribute to the fearsome and honorable lady samurai of Japan, Onna-Bugeisha.

Warriors like the courageous Empress Jingū who defied the social norms of her time, or the menacing and loyal Tomoe Gozen, who according to the 13th century poem the Song of Heike, was a reckless horsewoman to whom neither the bravest horse nor the most rugged land could intimidate, capable of, with her skillful handling of the sword and the arch, face a thousand fierce warriors; or the intrepid Nakato Takeko who instructed in the martial arts of the naginata, directed the famous independent female unit Joshitai and before being captured by her enemies, asked her sister to cut off her head, following the Seppuku ritual.

The image of the shirt is an adaptation of Tomoe Gozen portrayed by Kikuchi Yōsai.

This is our tribute to the fearsome and honorable lady samurai of Japan, Onna-Bugeisha.

Warriors like the courageous Empress Jingū who defied the social norms of her time, or the menacing and loyal Tomoe Gozen, who according to the 13th century poem the Song of Heike, was a reckless horsewoman to whom neither the bravest horse nor the most rugged land could intimidate, capable of, with her skillful handling of the sword and the arch, face a thousand fierce warriors; or the intrepid Nakato Takeko who instructed in the martial arts of the naginata, directed the famous independent female unit Joshitai and before being captured by her enemies, asked her sister to cut off her head, following the Seppuku ritual.

The image of the shirt is an adaptation of Tomoe Gozen portrayed by Kikuchi Yōsai.

"That is not dead which can eternal lie, And with strange aeons even dead may die" 

H. P. Lovecraft, poet, essayist, author, an appreciated and misunderstood genius of the cosmic horror novel. Pagan and creator of blasphemous stories of the wonderful and the ridiculous, his oniric dreams have drawn the worst of our nightmares and inspired in the form of worship the curious and daring who have come to read his chilling and delicious work full of outer beings, ancient gods and ancestral monsters ... Cthulhu, Shub-Niggurath, Nyarathotep, Azathoth, Yog-Sothoth .... As our friend said so well ... The oldest and strongest emotion of humankind is fear, and the most oldest and strongest kind of fears is fear of the unknown »

You were a humble peasant who barely knew how to read & write. In your native Domremí countryside you heard voices & embarked on an uncertain destiny to liberate France from the English. Together with your faithful soldiers, you raised your banner & launched yourself in suicidal acts until liberating the siege of Orleans & crowning your dolphin. That was your glorious rise that preceded your terrible end. They betrayed you & accused you of heresy. A scorching fire ended your life.

Were you perhaps God's chosen one or a madwoman driven by schizophrenia & hallucinations? Be that as it may, you were the maiden acclaimed by your people, the fervent heroine that you faced against all the powers of the earth until you almost won the Hundred Years War. Today Joan, your name is already a legend.