Like an enormous mechanical spider, a Triarch Stalker looms over the battlefield with its multiple slicing limbs and devastating weaponry controlled by a high-ranking Triarch Praetorian. When a Triarch Stalker advances, it does so with a speed and surety that belies its jerking gait
Lieutenants act as the right hands of their Captains by providing tactical flexibility and helping to direct their battle-brothers in war. They are often entrusted with direct battlefield command of a demi-company or strike force; by handling the squad-level combat logistics of force coordination and acting as exemplary leaders, they free up their Captains to focus on the wider strategic picture of the entire war zone.
Assault Intercessors are amongst the most widespread close-support units in a Chapter's arsenal. Firing their heavy bolt pistols as they close upon the foe, they charge into the fray, where they make short work of their enemies with brutal swings of their chainswords.
Though some Chapters use Repulsor Executioners as armoured escorts for their dedicated troop-carrying tanks, many favour them as transports for Hellblasters and other specialist Primaris squads. In this capacity, the tanks thrum across the battlefield with guns blazing. Whether armed with macro plasma incinerators or heavy laser destroyers, the Executioners unleash fusillade after punishing fusillade, their primary armaments combining with a wealth of secondary weapons to blast the enemy into ruin.
Before the molten ire of an Eradicator Squad, heavy armour and defended positions stand little chance. Eradicators wear the heavier Gravis pattern of Mk X power armour, allowing them to stride unharmed through waves of incoming fire before bringing their own destructive weaponry to bear at close range.
When the cannons of the Gladiator Reaper spin to full pitch, the droning makes the teeth of all nearby itch with the intensity of vibrations. Within seconds, thousands of spent casing pour over the battle tank's armoured hide as enemies are erased from existence by the storm of fire.
When a Chaplain takes to the field on a Raider-pattern bike, he is able to keep pace with even the swiftest armoured advance or spearhead breakthrough. Fighting in such an action, he will urge his brothers to victory as he bellows his catechisms and charges headlong into the foe, crozius arcanum swinging.
The Dark Angels are a dour brotherhood, characterised by their deep commitment to millennia-old rituals, loyalty, discipline, and self-sufficiency. They are a fighting force whose allegiance to the Emperor and his Imperium is nigh impossible to dispute, yet few call them friends, and none know much of them thanks to their determined reclusiveness.
Festooned with swaying plague censers and tainted bells, Miasmic Malignifiers belch thick clouds of miasmal fumes from their rusted chimneys. Sown like spores across target worlds, they are parasites that suck filth from the ground and latch themselves on to local infrastructure, polluting the world on every level.
Tubes and pipes erupt in profusion from the Lord of Virulence’s armour. These gout noxious fumes are putrid eruptions whose hue and stench guide the fire of artillery engines behind the lines. In their wake, their flensefrond cloaks leave a trail of sickening mucosal slime for hungry Daemon Engines to follow.