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.
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.
As the Necrons stir ever more into wakefulness, the Triarch Praetorians have re-emerged to join the dynastic legions. Triarch Praetorians hold a great responsibility - to ensure that the Necron dynasties never fall.
Bloated with festering corruption, Plague Marines form the mainstay of the Death Guard, and unlike many Traitor Legions their numbers have only swollen as the millennia have passed.
The Tomb Blade has a curious motion for a craft of its design, eschewing the arrow-straight attack vectors of other jetbikes and fighter craft. It often corkscrews across the battlefield rather than taking a more direction approach.
The great labour of the Death Guard is to spread Nurgle’s bounteous gift to every corner of realspace.
The Silent King rides to war aboard his Dais of Dominion, flanked by the phaerons of his Triarch and orbited by crackling noctilith Menhirs.
Blightlord Terminators are relentless and unstoppable, elite Death Guard warriors bound forever to mutated suits of Cataphractii armour.
The Pale Harvestmen; the Scythes of Nurgle; the Eyes of Mortarion. The elite warriors of the Deathshroud go by many names, and every one is redolent with a miasma of fear and menace.
Commanding legion upon legion of deathless soldiers whose only purpose is to obey his every order, the Necron Overlord is a cold, calculating demigod.
Labouring through the air on buzzing turbines and driven by the trapped essence of a Nurgle Daemon, the Foetid Bloat-drone drifts toward the enemy like an armoured plague fly.
Necron Warriors form the majority of a tomb world's nigh-inexhaustible armies. They are a corps of fleshless mechanoids, ranged in their millions against the vital races of the galaxy.