Infernal Masters forge pacts with daemonic entities, referred to in the lore of Prospero as tutelaries. Chanting jagged syllables and making promises of blood and souls, they unleash the powers of these malign familiars to engulf their foes in swarms of momentarily corporeal terrors, to divine whispers of the future, or to master the currents of the warp itself.
The Thousand Sons advance into battle amidst gouts of kaleidoscopic warpflame and bolts of raw sorcery. The heart of these arcane armies is comprised of Rubricae – implacable warriors who level salvo after salvo against the foe, marching at the command of the mighty Sorcerers and diabolic Infernal Masters who rule their fractured Legion. Around them come shrieking herds of Tzaangor, mutant shock troops armed with cursed blades and dark sorcery.
The air screams as Magnus the Red descends from the skies, and stone runs molten beneath his shadow. Cyclopean son of the Emperor of Mankind, his very presence is anathema to logic.
The Stormfang Gunship is designed to dominate the skies while furiously blasting apart all who would oppose the Sons of Russ.
Twisted arcanists, wicked of intent and strange of form, Exalted Sorcerers have an encyclopædic knowledge of spells and are able to bend reality to their desires.
Scarab Occult Terminators were once the finest psykers in the Thousand Sons Legion, bodyguards to Magnus the Red himself. Reduced to dust along with their brethren, they now possess only an echo of their previous intellect.
From the Mountains of the Maelstrom come the legendary Thunderwolves, hulking beasts with jaws so strong they can chew through steel.
Having surrendered to the terrible curse that the Canis Helix afflicts, the Wulfen are a grotesque distortion of the power of the Space Wolves.
Standing three times the height of a man, these towering war machines bear powerful weapons and are as lethal at range as in close assault. A chapter's Dreadnoughts are treasured relics, only awoken in great need.
Stepping out from the fog of war come the Rubricae. Many of these undying warriors were psykers in their own right, before an ancient curse damned them to an eternity as living husks – their baroque power armour now contains nothing but sparkling dust.
Every Space Wolves warrior dreams of a place in the Wolf Guard. To be a member of this select brotherhood is to wield the very deadliest weapons of war while serving as the personal guard of their Wolf Lord.
Viewed by some as wild, even barbaric, the Space Wolves are nonetheless a proud brethren, as noble as they are fierce. Those who dare to oppose them quickly feel the fangs of the wolf around their throats, for the Sons of Russ are dedicated to the hunt.