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.
The T'au Empire is amongst the most dynamic and determined powers in the 41st Millenium. Their technology is advanced and ever-improving, from grav-skimming gunships and artificial intelligence, to potent energy weapons and formidable battlesuits. Their territories expand with every victory, be it military or diplomatic. Yet the T'au Empire's greatest strength is its unifying philosophy – they believe it is their duty to spread the doctrine of the Greater Good to every corner and culture of this dark galaxy, and will let none stop them from bringing enlightenment to the stars.
The T'au Empire employs advanced firepower and complex metastrategies in its quest to enlighten the galaxy, each suited to different environments, objectives, and enemies. The Sudden Dawn Cadre specialise in the philosophy known as Mont'ka – the Killing Blow. Skilled Pathfinder scouts mark vital targets, Breachers mobilise with swift grav-transport technology, and Commander Cloudspear uses her powerful Enforcer Battlesuit to lead high-risk, high-reward tactical raids deep into hostile heartlands.
Aggressive and rebellious, Commander O'Shovah is an undisputed master of Mont'ka, the T'au metastrategy of the Killing Blow. Piloting his crimson battlesuit, he carves a bloody path into the enemy, leading his separatist Fire Caste forces from the front as he wields the enigmatic Dawn Blade with such strength and skill that no foe can stand against him.
When the T'au Empire goes to war, they bring advanced battlesuits, faithful drones, potent energy weapons, and a host of allied races to shore up their weak spots, making their armies some of the toughest to tackle.
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.