Gorger Mawpacks are strange gatherings of ogors afflicted with the Empty Belly curse, driven mad with hunger no matter how much they consume. Wild-eyed and starving, they launch themselves at their prey, using huge clubs or improvised bludgeons to pulverise those unfortunate enough to be their next, eternally unsatisfying meal.
The Horns of Hashut are heralds of ruin and desolation, relentless destroyers sent forth by the Father of Darkness. Each region they conquer is pulverised, stripped, and rendered barren for the industrial tyranny of their daemonic god. The Horns of Hashut wage war like a raging taurus, stampeding over their foe to crush them entirely, swinging heavy weapons while unleashing cruel devices of duardin design – choking ash bombs and infernal flamehurlers.
The Gnarlwood has been riven by a series of devastating earthquakes, as something stirs deep below the forest’s surface. These tremors have wrought terrible damage across the Sundered Scales, but they have also unearthed many strange relics – and drawn in Gorger Mawpacks of feral ogors, who hope to stir up the all-consuming hunger of their Gulping God through acts of gory sacrifice. Swift on their heels come the Wildercorps Hunters, determined to end this threat to the God-King’s domain with a well-aimed crossbow bolt.
Quiet as shadow, as relentless as the driving rain, the Hunters of Huanchi prowl the sacred territories of the Seraphon in search of trespassers. These peerless hunters silently creep up on any who dare corrupt the domain of the Old Ones and riddle them with deadly, toxin-laced darts. Their prey are left helpless as the skinks surge forward to deliver a killing strike.
The Kharadron are a cautious people who dislike embarking on any venture unless assured of its profitability. However, their hunger for aether-gold, a mysterious lighter-than-air metal that powers much of their society, is such that daring privateers will chase it to reality’s edge and beyond. Some Kharadron will even enter the Eightpoints in search of rich seams of aether-gold; these prospector bands are armed with all manner of deadly technology, and though such expeditions are always perilous, the potential rewards are great indeed.
In the terrible and voracious depths of the Gnarlwood, warbands battle over ancient Realmshaper Engines – strange stone ziggurats that imbue the forest with cosmic energies. To meddle with these arcane constructs could unleash catastrophe far beyond the Ravening Ruin, but the deranged ghouls of the Royal Beastflayers believe they are on a quest to save the realm, and will devour anyone who stands in their way. It falls to the heroic Questor Soulsworn – itinerant champions of the Stormcast Eternals, guided by visions and prophecies – to defend the Seraphon relics from those who would defile them.
The foot soldiers of Nurgle’s Maggotkin love nothing more than spreading filth and bountiful contagions, hoping to transform the Eightpoints into a sacred garden of beautiful putrescence.
The Ossiarchs seek neither gold nor glory; they covet the bones of the living. From these, the Mortisan acolytes fashion new cohorts of Bonereaper warriors, their animus provided by the composite souls of defeated enemies. Their armies are disciplined and professional, acting in perfect concert to destroy the foe. Yet not every military action conducted by the Ossiarchs is fought on a grand scale – small warrior bands are often dispatched on tasks of particular import, and an increasing number have been observed fighting in the lands of the Bloodwind Spoil.
The quest for the Ravening Ruin has drawn all manner of warriors to the ever-hungry Gnarlwood, seeking glory, riches or the simple joy of slaughter. So thick lie the corpses across the forest floor that Nighthaunt Pyregheists have been drawn to it, threatening to consume the forest with the unholy flames of the Great Necromancer. Their rampant spread is held at bay only by the rising waters of a great river, long dormant but returning slowly to life under the guidance of the Ydrilan Riverblades.
The Questor Soulsworn exist outside the chamber structure of Sigmar's heavenly armies, wandering fellowships bound together by prophecies and omens from the God-King himself. Each of these elite Stormcast Eternals is a storied champion in their own right, expected to overcome impossible odds as they undertake quests of the grandest import.
The Rotmire Creed are artisans of virology, relentless in their pursuit of the perfect plague. A swamp-dwelling cult that worships Nurgle in his aspect as Lord Leech, their blowpipe darts and cruel barbs are daubed with deadly alchemical contagions. Once unleashed, these diseases spread quickly through the ranks of their enemies – a testament to their infectious craft.
The Royal Beastflayers are the gamekeepers and questing hunters of the Flesh-eater Courts, deluded ghouls who see themselves as brave warriors sworn to hunt down foul beasts for the glory of their vampiric lords. In reality, these debased cannibals stalk innocent victims and genuine abominations alike, draping themselves in the flayed hides and gnawed bones of their unfortunate quarry.