Alchemite Warforgers are specialist wizards who wield the raw energies of Chamon. As muscular and sweaty as any mundane blacksmith, these mages pluck glowing runecubes from their crucibles, channelling metallurgic magic to destroy their foes. Their arcane alchemy can change the properties of not only metal, but reality itself.
The Cities of Sigmar are embattled metropolises founded by free mortals across every one of the realms. These disparate alliances of humans, duardin, aelves, and even ogors battle not only to survive, but to muster grand expeditions and establish new strongholds in Sigmar’s name. They fight with blade and bolt, wonders of military technology, and blistering storms of magic. Above all, the Cities of Sigmar win their wars through sheer indomitable spirit. Whether defending their hard-won fortress-cities or marching into the wilderness as a Dawnbringer Crusade, they spend their lives to relight the dying embers of civilisation.
The Idoneth Deepkin are a mysterious race of aelves who dwell within the oceans of the Mortal Realms, emerging from their watery seclusion to plunder the souls of land-dwellers – a grim harvest upon which their very survival depends.
Deep in the city of Excelsis lie several wards sealed off on pain of death, areas forever blighted by Tzeentchian sorceries left in the wake of the traitor Ortam Vermyre's uprising.
The Cities of Sigmar are bastions of light and hope in realms embattled by darkness. With faith and overwhelming firepower, their mortal armies fight back against the fiend, the monster, and the wraith. Following the bellowed commands of veteran officers, lines of hard-slogging infantry grimly set their shields to repel the enemy's assault while formations of armoured cavalry sweep forth to claim glorious victory in the God-King's name.
Most Darkling Covens centre around a single powerful Sorceress; these despots may have apprentice spellcasters and captains, but their rule is absolute. Such is the supernatural charisma of the mistress of a Darkling Coven that almost anyone might fall under her spell.
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.
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 great labour of the Death Guard is to spread Nurgle’s bounteous gift to every corner of realspace.
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.
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.