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.
Barbgaunts are little more than living weapons, their bodies and biological cannons slaved to the will of a pulsating ganglio-parasite that piggybacks them into battle. Once there, they unleash volleys of chitinous barbs that detonate with the fury of violent muscle-spasms, transfixing nearby victims with a hail of jagged projectiles.
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.
Biovores are living artillery pieces, swollen with the clutch of explosive Spore Mines that they nurture within their bodies. Upon anchoring itself to the ground with chitinous spurs, a Biovore undergoes violent spasms that expel its volatile offspring in high arcs as living ammunition. From there, the gas-bloated Spore Mines detonate in a shower of bone shards and acid rain, or else drift languidly down onto the battlefield, primed to explode whenever prey draws near.
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.
The Tyranids are an all-consuming alien swarm from beyond the known galaxy. Driven by the vast and ineffable intellect of the Hive Mind, their tendrils drive into fresh systems with every passing hour. These single-minded metapredators cannot be reasoned with, bought off, or put to flight. They seek only to strip each new world they encounter, devouring every shred of biomass to feed the relentless advance of the hive fleets and leaving dead, airless husks in their wake.
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.
The Tyranid hive fleets are rapacious alien swarms that flow from beyond the galactic fringe to devour all life. When the Tyranids attack they do so in unstoppable numbers, unleashing nightmarish bio-weapons upon their victims.
The Deathleaper is a rare and advanced development of the Lictor strain, perfectly evolved to act as a terror weapon. This apex Lictor possesses an instinctive understanding of how to spread fear through hostile forces and prey populations alike, using its skills in stealth, infiltration, and assassination to sow paranoia and dread before the hive fleet attacks en masse.
Freeguild Cavalier-Marshals command their Free City's forces from horseback, and are nigh-unstoppable on the charge. They galloping hard into the enemy, seeking the perfect moment to collapse their battleline in a single decisive attack. Though they often carry the weight of a Dawnbringer Crusade upon their shoulders, these Marshals are inspiring champions who are well used to leading by example.
The battlefield shakes under the heavy hooves of the Freeguild Cavaliers as they make their charge. No idle jousters these – theirs is a war of grinding, brutal attrition where man and steed alike are expected to fight for hours at a time without rest.