Aktywne filtry
The galaxy is in flames. The Emperor’s glorious vision for Humanity is in ruins and His armies are locked in a brutal civil war. The greatest of these bitter combatants are the towering god-engines of the Adeptus Titanicus. Take control of these awe-inspiring war machines in Adeptus Titanicus – the tabletop game of devastating combat set during the Horus Heresy.
The galaxy is at war. On a countless worlds, the Emperor's loyal armies fight to defend His realm from those who would tear it asunder. Among the greatest of the Imperium's defenders are the loyalist Titan Legions.
The galaxy is in flames. The Emperor’s glorious vision for Humanity is in ruins, his armies locked in brutal civil war. The greatest of these bitter combatants are the towering god-engines of the Adeptus Titanicus.
When the Warmaster turned against the Emperor of Mankind, dragging the Imperium into civil war, the Titan Legions were also divided. Across the galaxy, Titan Legion turned upon Titan Legion, and worlds quaked beneath their tread.
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.
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.