Pendragon Comics - The Pendragons

Brought together in defense of Avalon and the British Isles, the Pendragons are the officially-sanctioned heroes of Great Britain. Originally led by the Black Knight, the group is composed of surviving members of the old Knights of Pendragon group, as well as several other heroes. Willing to die for their beliefs, the Pendragons stand united as Britain's best defense against threats of a superhuman nature.

Special "Silver Anniversary" Pendragons logo created by Kell Carpenter, inspired by the logo created by Des Davies!

Harrison Halpin grimaced as the liquor burned its way down his throat. He had just come from another feisty encounter with the House of Commons. Halpin sometimes enjoyed Question Time, seeing it as a necessary challenge, but recently things had become increasingly nasty. There were so many factions within Parliament these days, including some who were hawks for war. The Catholic church's call for a religious crusade had found many allies in Britain, even amongst those who would never have followed a Papal decree before. I've got enemies on all sides, he mused. And my daughter's marriage to Adam Crown has only made my situation all the more precarious.

"And you're willing to lie down with devils to preserve your own power, aren't you?"

Harrison jumped so badly that the glass slipped from his fingers and shattered against the floor. He whirled about, half expecting to see the demon known as Blackheart... but instead he saw someone whose presence filled him with immeasurable guilt. Captain Britain stood half in shadows, her lover Nocturne at her side. Seated before them, in the chairs that Harrison usually reserved for guests of state, were Spitfire and Union Jack. In some ways, it was those two who most made Harrison feel uncomfortable. Spitfire had protected the U.K. since the second World War and Union Jack was the bearer of a great legacy. Seeing the disappointment in their features was horrible. "You frightened me," he stammered awkwardly.

"Maybe your conscience isn't as clean as it ought to be," Union Jack whispered. He'd recently gone to a more militaristic garb, with a face mask that muffled his voice somewhat.

Harrison started to reply, eager to defend himself or pretend innocence. But there was no use in lying to them... Captain Britain was a telepath, after all. "I did what I felt was necessary."

"You allied yourself with Blackheart*! The man who raised the Black Mass Barrier**! I thought you had more spine than this!" Captain Britain moved forward with each word, stopping only when she was so close to him that he could smell her light perfume. She was taller than him, having inherited the stately Braddock genes, and her beauty made her all the more intimidating.

"If you lie with dogs, you end up stinking like one," Spitfire whispered, suddenly appearing at his side. The speedster moved so quickly that Halpin barely detected a blur. "How would the British people like learning that you agreed to work with the man who killed so many?"

"There's no need to make threats," he countered. "Look... things are going to hell all around me right now! I have people wanting me to retake Darkmoor by force, I have the European Union demanding concessions on trade issues and my approval rating is sinking faster than the Cheeky Girls' career!"

"Good one, that." Union Jack shrugged at Nocturne. "He's a funny one, you have to give him that."

Captain Britain started to cast a withering glance at Union Jack, but held off. Not only had Spitfire beaten her to it, but she knew it was just Joey's way of letting off steam. As annoying as he could be sometimes, he was a stalwart on the team and the brief period when he'd been absent had left the Pendragons without a little bit of its heart. Betsy instead turned her attention back to the Prime Minister. "We want to trust you. But when you do things like this, it undermines all the faith we've built up in you."

"Not much, surprisingly. I had to seize some property belonging to a Nathaniel Essex. And I had to have an object taken from the Museum of Antiquities and turned over to Dr. Oonagh Mullarkey, with the Weird Happenings Organization."

Halpin waved a hand dismissively. "Some Atlantean thing. The Horn of Blowing or something. It's safe enough, though. Dr. Mullarkey is a key member of our metahuman genesis program. She's proven herself time and again."

"If she's so safe, then why would the son of the devil want her to have this Horn?" Nocturne asked.

The PM had no immediate answer for that. Clearing his throat, he added, "I know where she's going to be this evening, though. I got an invitation myself but won't be able to attend." Stepping to his desk, he plucked a very expensively designed piece of paper. "She's hosting a party for potential members of the Hellfire Club."

"Well, not the criminal lot," Halpin answered with a laugh. "These are the movers and shakers, the gentry. You know, the backbone of the historical Club."

"That's one and the same," Union Jack retorted. "The group's always been a front for the Inner Circle to do their nasty work."

Betsy smiled beneath her helmet, making her lover Nocturne wonder what she was thinking. Through their psychic bond, she replied How would you like to crash the party?

Of course, you silly boy. Out loud, she said, "Thank you for this, Harrison. It makes up a bit for what you've done. But do try and stay on the straight and narrow... or I'll tell your daughter on you."

Shevaun Haldane, the beauty known as Dark Angel, threw her head back and laughed aloud. The magical energy swirled all around her as she crossed over from one plane of existence to another and it gave her a sensual thrill. Magic was a bit like wild sex: dangerous and nasty, but when it was good... it was incredible. She glanced over to the man who stood at her side, hands clasped behind his back, and grinned. She knew how she must look, with her hair tousled and an expression of near lust on her face, but she didn't mind. This was the one thing in her life that always felt right.

As the lights began to wink away and die, Shevaun felt her feet settle down on lush green grass. They were now in the Cathedral of Owls on Lyonesse, with several dozen of the wise old birds watching them from the branches all around the clearing. This place had been poisoned not long ago and many owls had died, but the spirit of the place was too strong to be broken completely. "That was incredible," she said aloud, the joy in her words almost palpable.

"It felt like I was being torn in two," he replied. Jonathan was known as Killraven in his world, a dark future in which the Martians had won the war. There was a hint of perpetual sadness in her eyes that reminded her a bit of her former lover, Miracleman. It was almost as if the knowledge of the world's sins weighed heavily upon them both. But that was virtually the only resemblance they shared. Miracleman had been a veritable god, a painfully beautiful being who had been lovely to behold and wonderful to kiss. Killraven was all the dirty things about sex that made it so good. He had a natural scent that could only be described as masculine and a sort of wariness about him that spoke volumes about his past.

He didn't pull away from her, but instead offered a little smile. "There's no stink from the Martians. I've never been anywhere where they weren't present." A more somber look came over him then. "Thank you for helping—"

"No problem. I mean it." Dark Angel had seen the way he'd reacted to yesterday's events. They'd made sure to intercede in an event that had traumatized him once before: the day his mother had died and he and his brother had been taken by the Martians. In this world, in this time, that would never happen because they had destroyed the Martian patrol responsible for it all. "Maybe the Jonathan that's here will grow up to be much more relaxed."

As they moved from the clearing, a holographic image suddenly appeared before them. Killraven reached for his sword, but Dark Angel dropped his hand and moved to embrace the hologram, which had solidified into the form of an older man wearing a yellow and red jumpsuit.

"Quite well," the hologram replied, though his eyes were kept on the man standing behind his friend. "I didn't realize you were coming. Where are Breeze and Andy?"

Shevaun shrugged, looking a bit sad. "When Breeze found out about Scott's death, she took it kind of hard. Felt she should have stayed over here and spent the last few months together or something. Andy's been rebuilt, though. Doing great – struck up a friendship with Machine Man, I think."

Dark Angel blushed despite herself. There was something in Gully's manner, in his tone, that made her feel embarrassed. Then she realized what it was... it was like she was bringing home a boy to meet dad. Of course, her own home life had been nothing like that, but the sense was still there. Given how much she and Gully had bonded after she'd helped him move from an organic existence to a holographic one, it wasn't that outlandish that he'd taken on a paternal role. "This is Killraven. He's from the same future as those Avengers we met once before*."

"I see." Gully offered a hand, which Killraven accepted. "Gulliver Jones. Pendragon since the second World War. Friend and protector to Ms. Haldane."

"Thank you for allowing me to come to your island," Killraven answered. "I was brought to this era by a woman named Ravonna. She disappeared after I arrived."

Gully made a face. "Ravonna. AKA Lady Kang or Terminatrix. She was involved in the Collision incident a few months back*."

"That's why I thought he should come here. Maybe the Pendragons can help him figure out what's going on." She reached into a pouch on her uniform and retrieved a small disc. "And I wanted to give this to Betsy. The last of the warding stones."

"We'll see," Dark Angel answered, still not 100% sure that the Barrier's fall would be a good thing, considering the war raging on the outside. "But one thing's for sure... everything's about to get real interesting."

Dan Ketch felt like his entire head was throbbing, bouncing in time to the trance music all around him. The Slimelight Club was packed tonight and a horde of pixies were at the center of the attention. The tiny winged creatures had a tendency to get liquored up very easily, with nudity almost guaranteed from that point on. Despite the fact that they were mostly six inches in length, the young females still managed to gain an appreciative crowd.

"How long are you going to do this?" Jennifer Kale asked him. His cousin was seated across from him in the booth, looking concerned.

"Do what?" he answered, turning his gaze away from the pixies. Not far from there, Lorna Dane was dancing with Jennifer's friend Satana. The two girls were dressed in the most eye-catching manner possible and Dan found himself longing to join them. Of course, he couldn't dance so that hampered his plans a bit.

"I'm not wasting anything. I'm basking in the pain I'm feeling. There's a difference."

Jennifer sighed, leaning across the table so she didn't have to shout quite so loudly. "Stacy was a great girl. You loved her. She loved you. It's fine to miss her... but at some point you're going to have to accept the loss and begin moving forward."

"She was dating Mr. Sinister but didn't know it. He died in front of her while we were fighting Blackheart in Hell."

"It was. She's back at the lab now, working herself to the bone to forget it all." He stared at his empty mug of beer. "I just hate all the death that surrounds us. It's not fair. Look at us, Jen. You, me, Noble, John... we're like walking death traps."

Dan nodded, watching as Lorna and Satana began moving towards the booth, smiling. "What's worst about it all is... I think I'm over her already. Isn't that awful?"

Jennifer saw the way he looked at Lorna and shook her head. "Not at all, cuz. Not at all."

Joey Chapman tugged at his tie, loosening it as much as possible. He was standing on the balcony facing the shoreline, a stiff wind blowing off the water. He felt out of place here and not just because he was part of a small contingent of Pendragons who had crashed Oonagh Mullarkey's party. This was the upper crust of British society here, being wined and dined by the more human members of the Hellfire Club. There was no sign of Lord Pumpkin or any of the other undesirables; instead, the face that the Club put forth was Mullarkey and the little hottie that said she was the Red Queen.

Joey had been raised as the son of a dockworker. It wasn't until he'd befriended Kenneth that he'd become a part of the world of the rich... and he'd never felt comfortable amongst the bluebloods of the world. Even now, living with Jackie, it all seemed to be so fake.

Joey glanced over his shoulder, noticing that the Red Queen – Evelyn? – had stepped out onto the balcony with him. Her cleavage was hard to miss, but he found his eye moving up towards her eyebrow as well. A gold ring glittered there. "Just enjoying the view, that's all."

She leaned over the railing next to him, pressing her breasts together in a way that made him swallow. "You and your wife should join the club."

Joey looked for Jackie in the crowd within. They were all in disguise, with Jackie having dyed her hair jet black for the evening. Betsy and Gray were in there, too, with Betsy trying to scan the minds of everyone who passed in hopes of learning what the Club was up to. Mystic shielding around some of their minds was making that harder than anticipated. "We've heard some scary things about the Club. Nasty bits o'business involving orgies, demon summoning and the like."

"Well... the wife wouldn't appreciate them, I don't think. What about the demons and all?"

"This is a new club. A new era. I can't speak for the actions of past members." She leaned in, whispering, "There's about to be a commotion inside."

"What do you mean?" he asked, but at that very moment, a loud roar seemed to come from inside. Gasps of surprise were intermingled with oaths. Joey started to rush in, but she held his arm.

Gray Poldark felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. Making his way through the crowd, smiling as he went, was Clive Winthrop.

"That's impossible," Betsy whispered, stepping up next to him. "I can't get into his head but that's not Blackheart. Not even close."

Gray frowned. Winthrop had been the identity used by Blackheart to seize the office of Prime Minister. It had in that guise that he'd raised the Black Mass Barrier... "Then who the hell is he?"

Almost on cue, Winthrop stopped in the center of the room and looked about, addressing the stunned crowd. "Hello everyone! I know that my appearance tonight is a bit of a shock... but I assure you that some of the stories you have heard are a bit untrue. I was kidnapped by a villain you all know as Blackheart. My life was stolen from me and my good name perverted. But now I'm back and I'm part of the new wave of British leadership: the Hellfire Club. During the early days of my political career, I warned against the wave of immigrants taking away our jobs. Now the threat is much more insidious. The undead, the creatures of fairy, the monsters of myth...they now want voting rights, they're unionizing, they're taking away the things that you and I have fought so hard for."

Winthrop smiled as Oonagh moved up next to him. "I'm proposing today that we use some of their own firepower against them. Anyone who would like to leave, please do so. If you're interested in finding out why the men and women who are in this room have a chance to take back Britain... please remain."

Betsy looked and was gratified that a few people were, indeed, fleeing the building. But most were remaining behind, eager to see what was next. Pendragons, she projected. Be alert. He's reaching for something in his pocket.

"My friends. I give you the Horn of Proteus. A magical device that will be the first step in showing Britain that the balance of power has shifted. We will use one of the beasts against its own kind." Winthrop held up a seashell-looking horn and held it to his mouth. He blew hard, twice, but no one in the room heard a thing.

"What's he--?" Gray started to ask, but before he could finish, the ground seemed to shake and Joey Chapman was yelling from outside. At first, Gray couldn't understand his friend over the shaking and booming all around him, but then he made out the words "Oh shite!" and knew that something bad was happening.

Betsy grabbed Gray's hand and pulled him to the window... there, rising from the watery depths, was what first appeared to be a whale, though of monstrous size. The creature was walking upright, though, on two human-like legs.

"Please greet Giganto* warmly, everyone," Winthrop gushed. "He's about to stomp his way straight to Downing Street!"

(*First seen in Fantastic Four # 4, but other Gigantos have been seen since, including in FF # 219 and Marvel Universe # 7)

"Who the hell are you and what do you want?!" Nathaniel Caine demanded of their captor.

Despite considerable effort, he proved unable to move his inert body; the venom in his demand more than compensated for this paralysis. He saw through peripheral vision that Rachel Summers was still at his side, still seemingly comatose and though her psychic voice had gone frighteningly silent. Reason enough to continue to struggle right there.

The target of his ire, calmly standing just a meter or so before them, did not deign to respond immediately. Instead the dark suited man heft his spear-like weapon and twirled it about, performing some complex kata routine without once taking his eye of either of them. The curved blade at the spear's end whizzed past both himself and Rachel, close enough Nathaniel could almost catch his own reflection in the metal...yet there no attendant breeze, no feeling of movement.

He glared hard at the red-haired man in the dark suit that tormented them so. He was frankly as much embarrassed as upset over the entire situation. First they'd been grabbed in full daylight clean out of his apartment and stuffed into this empty space (Martha's "The Hot White Room" the man had called it), then this fire-haired UNSUB in the dinner suit appears out of nowhere and hangs them in the air as though they were a couple pieces of artwork and talking about 'reducing' one of them. The way he spinning that lance of his, he might well have meant it literally.

The most embarrassing part though wasn't the fact he and Rachel were starkers (their preferred state of dress, truth be told), but that neither of them had seen or even sensed what had happened! She was the host of the bloody Phoenix, and he knew when reality went even slightly out-of-whack; getting grabbed like this wasn't just getting caught flat-footed, it was having your damned legs cut completely off and getting beaten half to death with both!

For his part, the man simply ignored the snarl and carried on twirling his weapon.

Nathaniel could only sigh and try to relax. Neither was exactly easy between the absence of a mouth and any visible restraints. He even closed his eyes and tried to reach out to Rachel telepathically. He couldn't 'hear' her screams any longer, which quite bluntly had him terrified as anything might.

Suddenly, the man stopped his exercises and stared directly into Nathaniel's eyes. "No," he stated, his own lips unmoving. "She is unharmed. Unharmed and still alive."

Unable to sigh, Nathaniel closed his eyes in relief, only to feel panicked again when he found he couldn't...couldn't open them!

"I see we are running out of time faster than anticipated," the man stated flatly. His voice perversely actually calmed Nathaniel, giving him something to pit himself against.

"I assure you, Inspector, your sudden blindness is no laughing matter. Even if it is merely a reflection of your inherent incompatibility with an astral environment."

"This isn't real, Inspector. Not in the sense of it occurring in three-dimensional space. I presumed your connection to the Causal Nexus would at least tell you that much."

This understandably brought Nathaniel up a bit short. "I have no clue what you're..."

"Then I suggest you pay very close attention, Inspector." Nathaniel suddenly found he could see again, although the medium decidedly other than sight. It wasn't sight in the normal sense. The best way to describe it would an...awareness of everything occurring. Everything, in quite literally every direction. Every action and the cause of every action was laid out before him.

How else could he suddenly understand, with crystal clarity, the reason for Rachel's screams.

The man was speaking again, pulling his attention 'downwards', away from these grand and terrible sights. "Wuh...what?"

"I said, do you understand yourself now, Catalyst?" The man took a single step backwards. "Even now, your teammates storm the Nexus, risking causality itself to put things right. This room will not endure past that. You must decide now."

"Stop this?" the red-haired man sneered. "Bright Lady preserve us! It's already done and unfolded, Catalyst!"

"A choice." The man brandished his weapon once more. "I can sever your connection to the Nexus, reduce and restore you as you once were...or..."

Nathaniel's sight returned to the distant, impossible structure, where A HERO DIES AT THE HANDS OF A MAD GOD. He could feel causes and effects swirling into a final certainty. He could only groan as reality shook to its foundations.

Rachel's screams returned full force into his consciousness. He was screaming himself, desperate to be heard through the chaos. "Or? Or what?"

He could see BATTLE AND DEATH AT THE CENTER OF ALL THINGS. He understood THIS WOULD BE THE RESULT, ITSELF BECOMING CAUSE FOR THE NEXT EFFECT.

YOU ARE THE CATALYST THAT REMAINS CONSTANT AMID CHANGE he is told by something other than a mere voice, even as he can SEE THE NEXT SEQUENCE OF EFFECTS CREATED BY THE CAUSES HE AND HIS CAN-WILL-COULD-MIGHT BE AND BECOME.

HE SEES THE ACTIONS AND REACTIONS THAT WILL COME, ABSENT THE CATALYST: ALL ENDS IN BLOOD AND DUST.

HE SEES THE DECISIONS AND CONSEQUENCES THE WILL RESULT, ABSENT THE FIREBIRD'S FREEDOM: THERE IS ONLY THE VOID.

A FRIGHTENED WOMAN, ALONE AND IMPERFECT, REACHES INTO THE SOURCE AND FOUNTAIN OF ALL POSSIBILITIES.

Nathaniel heard a voice that might have been his, screaming "Her! Get it out of her!"

The red-haired man swings his psimitar, its blade easily piercing Rachel's head. The raptor's cry that results, shattering and horrified, is quickly drowned by another woman's voice, whispering sacred words that resets all things.

Nathaniel Caine started awake, nearly tumbling out of bed as he did. He looked all about, momentarily panicked, seeing only familiar furniture and clutter.

"Ray?" he breathed, both relieved and reassured, getting to his knees and reaching for her. "You okay, luv?"

"Ngh. Feel...ugh." The lump under the bedsheets shifted heavily, the sheets dropping away to reveal a familiar face framed by a mane of red hair. Green eyes, still foggy with sleep, met his own directly. "Headache," Rachel Summers groaned, her head flopping back onto the pillows.

Nathaniel smiled, wanting to laugh for some reason. Instead he got to his feet and stumbled off to the WC, coming back a moment later with a pair of aspirin and a cup of water. Standing by the bed, he was struck once again by the sight of his lover in repose. Her thick, luxurious hair, innocent features, slender yet toned body...

He felt himself stiffen as she cracked her eyes open once more, sensual mouth grinning at his reaction. "Aspirin?" he offered, voice croaking.

"Not what I want in my mouth," she purred, getting to her knees, her eyes focusing on a point just below his chest. Nathaniel closed his own eyes as she leaned forward, letting those lips take him where they would.

There is a building somewhere in The City that has neither address nor official listing. It is one of thousands of surrounding it, and so goes unnoticed. Neither taxi service nor bus stop is to be found near it. There is a single door that leads into it, but that door is always locked, the lobby beyond it always deserted.

Within this building are many floors, all but one of which are always empty. Even the air, where it ever tasted by human lungs, would feel stale and sterile.

One that one floor, which neither stair nor elevator can reach, is but one room that is used: a long conference room. Within this conference room is a great desk and a long table, an ornate chaise lounge under a painting depicting creatures beyond description, a solitary bookcase containing a variety of crystal and glass shapes. If one were to examine these glass shapes, one would be greeted by sights impossible to comprehend: galaxies rotating upon their great axis, an archipelago of islands afloat in a green sea, a fog that moved and hammered upon the walls containing it with clear purpose, and more besides.

There are only two who resided in this room, who at that moment sat or stood at one end of the great conference table, both shadowed and obscured by the shuttered lights of the city beyond. They were soon joined by a third: a man in dark suit and unkempt red hair.

This new arrival entered softly, then tossed an object with just enough strength and speed that it slid the length of the table, coming to rest directly before the waiting pair.

It was a small sigil made of a metal, shaped in the form of a raptor bird, its wings spread in flight and beak parted in a silent roar. The metal itself gently glowed with golden radiance, pulsing as if in time with a silent heartbeat.

The red haired man stated in a flat voice, "As was promised: the celestial avatar, severed and contained." He sat down, watching both closely. "Its power, now yours."

Hands made of perfectly formed crystal reached out, picking up the metallic sigil, its glow flaring slightly to illuminate the aristocratic features of Stephen Saunders. "And the Catalyst?" his empty voice asked, glass eyes never leaving the metal in his hands. The smile that creased his hollow, unfeeling lips was one that promised either ecstasy or cruelty.

Saunders' laughter, joined soon by his partner standing behind him, echoed in the air and the emptiness beyond the room.

Next Issue: Four Pendragons facing a 100 ft. tall whale thing. Not good odds. Will the rest of the team arrive in time to turn the tide of battle? Plus: the Hellfire Club reveals that not everything is what it seems while Lorna's recent dream about Magneto takes a turn for the strange.

Now some of you are probably thinking that bringing a 100 ft. tall walking whale into the series isn't a good idea. Normally I'd agree with you. But so many Pendragons storylines are so serious, with trips to hell and powerful crises of faith... I thought it'd be interesting to see them in an old-fashioned superhero story, fighting a giant monster. I promise to insert appropriate angst along the way for those of you who crave that sort of thing!


CAPTAIN BRITAIN (Betsy Braddock)	CYBERMANCER (Suzi Endo)	DARK ANGEL (Shevaun Haldane)	GHOST RIDER (Dan Ketch)	KILLRAVEN (Jonathan Raven)

NOCTURNE (Gray Poldark)	POLARIS (Lorna Dane)	SPITFIRE (Jacqueline Chapman)	UNION JACK (Joseph Chapman)