Devoted to endless slaughter, the World Eaters are fanatical worshippers of Khorne – led by their bestial Daemon Primarch, Angron. These fearsome Space Marines are augmented by strange devices known as the Butcher’s Nails, which are embedded in their brainstems and hammer relentlessly at their minds, driving them to deeds of unmatched brutality. The Nails push their wearers to madness, compounded over many millennia by the influence of the warp and the macabre rituals of the World Eaters Legion.

Scions of their Primarch Angron, Daemon Prince of Khorne, the World Eaters were amongst the most feared of the Space Marines Legions to turn traitor during the brutal civil war known as the Horus Heresy. The World Eaters long held a reputation for wanton savagery, and as they fell to the powers of Chaos, they devolved into warbands of blood-crazed maniacs dedicated to the Taker of Skulls, glorying in violence and slaughter, and with no other purpose than spilling blood in their deity's name.

Vashtorr is the Soul Forge King, a daemonic demigod of unrestrained invention and abominable artifice. When the Arkifane takes physical form, it is as a horror of pallid flesh stretched over infernal mechanisms, soaring to battle amidst a cloud of lightning and smog. Vashtorr deals destruction with every whirring step, unleashing techno gheist curses upon his foes even as he fashions enhancements for his indentured daemon engines from the raw stuff of realspace.

The Typhon is named for the ‘Great Beast’ of Terran myth, and lives up to its namesake in sheer brutal strength. Sharing a basic chassis with the Spartan Assault Tank, this heavy tank serves as a mobile gun-platform with enough power to operate a single massive piece of siege artillery – the dreadhammer cannon. The Typhon was created to meet the demands of the Primarch Perturabo of the Iron Warriors, who sought a war engine that could rapidly deploy such fortress-breaking firepower to the battle line alongside his Legionaries. Though unsubtle in design, its overwhelming effectiveness is beyond question.

Chaos Cultists are the mortal devotees of the Dark Gods, ordinary men and women fallen to promises of temporal power who take to battle in huge numbers. Bearing a motley collection of improvised, stolen and makeshift weapons, they can overwhelm even determined enemies with sheer weight of numbers.

Angron is the Red Angel, Lord of the World Eaters, the Daemon Primarch of Khorne. Raised as a slave in the brutal fighting pits of Nuceria, this maddened demigod sought glorious death in the battles of the Horus Heresy – only to be damned to an eternity of undying rage. For ten thousand years he has savaged the Imperium, fury given immortal form, the butchers of the XII Legion following in his bloody wake. When he steps forth into realspace, Angron is an unstoppable engine of destruction with the strength to tear apart bastions with his bare hands and stop Titans in their tracks. His very presence drives those around him into a frenzy of wrath and fear, as he carves his way through entire armies in a whirlwind of apocalyptic bloodshed.

Lord Invocatus is a master of swift raids, devastating counter-attacks, and relentless hit-and-run strategies. Also known as Khorne's Thunderbolt, this born marauder thunders through the air as if riding across solid ground, mounted on his massive juggernaut, Khal’guruth. Devoted above all to the Blood God's service, Lord Invocatus leads his warbands from one battlefield to the next with supernatural speed, seeking always to spill as much blood as he can.

Jakhals are chosen from the strongest, most savage, and bloodthirstiest followers of the World Eaters. Though merely human, these elite cultists seek to emulate the frenzied purity of their gore-crazed masters in any way they can, and dive into combat with wild abandon. Each Jakhal goes to battle strapped with a tank of chemical stimms and tainted blood, which drives them into an unstoppable fury of hacking and slashing with their chain weapons as they strive to earn the favour of their bloody lords.

The Eightbound are World Eaters possessed by an octet of Khornate daemons, all warring for dominance – but some amongst their ranks achieve a form of apotheosis, as their mortal soul conquers and merges with the daemonic presences that share its body. Heavily mutated by their long possession, these Exalted Eightbound face no internal competition for control, and so exhibit a purer and more focused rage – one that is directed entirely at their foes.

Haarken Worldclaimer takes a heinous joy in his role as the mouthpiece of Abaddon, for it is he who proclaims the death of worlds. He does so not with some quotidian threat or hollow boast, but by driving his weapon, the Daemon-touched Helspear deep into the heart of citizen and soldier alike. He is a dark omen given form, and the otherworldly destruction he heralds is the coming of the Warmaster himself.

The daemonic servants of Khorne spill from the madness of the warp to corrupt and slaughter, the very battlefield contorting at the touch of Chaos. Gore-drenched Bloodletters hack heads from shoulders, led into the material plane by Bloodmasters, the greatest of their ravenous kind. Mounted atop the infernal engine-beasts known as Juggernauts, a charge by merciless Bloodcrushers breaks the most stalwart resistance, while tireless Flesh Hounds pursue any who flee across time and space.

Accursed Cultists have diverse and terrifying origins – whether born of dark ritual, empyric experimentation, or the predation of malign entities, these abberations are herded into battle as lurching shock troops, their tainted flesh reknitting grievous wounds with unnatural vigour. Once they reach close quarters, Mutants flail and lash at the enemy with claws or tendrils, while the horribly-warped Torments pounce with bestial hunger.