Sent to bolster their beleaguered Italian allies facing the combined forces of the British Commonwealth in North Africa, the Deutsches Afrika Korps proved a dangerous opponent. Commanded by the legendary Erwin Rommel, the Afrika Korps fought a series of ferocious battles in Egypt and Libya as each side pushed the other to breaking point.
German officers were capable and often experienced leaders. Junior officers were trained to undertake the role of their immediate superiors, enabling them to use their initiative to take control of situations when necessary. The Afrika Korps (DAK) proved this through consistent victories as well as elusiveness in retreat.
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.
German officers were capable and often experienced leaders. Junior officers were trained to undertake the role of their own immediate superiors, enabling them to use their initiative to take control of situations when necessary.
Representing the classic image of the German infantryman during World War II, these miniatures are equipped with knee-high jackboots, unadorned 'coalscuttle’ helmet and a martial discipline that took them to almost complete dominance of mainland Europe.
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.
A revolting stench wafts around the Foul Blightspawn, his corruption clotting the air itself. Breath rattles through pus-slick tubes as he cranks the rusted handle of his malignant churn, bellows wheezing and plague slop roiling in the incubatum upon his back.