Combat Patrol: T'Au Empire
The T'au Empire are a fledgling race in the grand scheme of things, thrusting out into the stars to spread their philosophy of the Greater Good to all they can reach.
The T'au Empire are a fledgling race in the grand scheme of things, thrusting out into the stars to spread their philosophy of the Greater Good to all they can reach.
The Disciples of Tzeentch take a great many forms, from Arcanite cultists to hosts of gibbering daemons. Amongst their chanting ranks are bird-headed beastmen, horned monstrosities and many-eyed seers, all determined to capsize the reality of the Mortal Realms.
Warlock Bombardiers are those engineers who develop a particular penchant for weapons that deliver explosive death from extreme range. Their alchemical armaments cause utter devastation wherever they strike home.
The Space Wolves are a savage Space Marine Chapter of merciless hunters. They hail from the icy death world of Fenris and strive to emulate the strength, cunning and howling ferocity of their Primarch: Leman Russ, the Wolf King
The latest creations from the crazed laboratories of the Clans Skryre, Stormfiends are hulking brutes stitched together from a variety of body parts.
Casting vindictive glares at their enemies and blasting them apart with mystical fire, Blue Horrors are as resentful and bitter as their pink cousins are gleeful and capricious.
Horrific examples of pure pestilence given form, Verminlord Corruptors live up to their name, existing only to despoil and corrupt.
Bounding in a disturbing fashion, Flamers of Tzeentch spring toward the foe spouting wyrdflame, the warpfire of Chaos itself. The supernatural flames writhe and leer, but most of all they burn, scorching the foe’s flesh, bones and soul.
The greatest of Tzeentch’s daemons, the Lords of Change shimmer with raw magic. With a flick of its claw, a Lord of Change can hurl foes into nightmares, or blast enemies with the wyrdfires of Tzeentch.
The Orks love nothing more than charging headlong into the fury of combat, bellowing "Waaagh!" at the top of their lungs and letting loose with whatever weapons they can lay their hands on.
Driven into battle by their frenzied faith, the Plague Monks of Clan Pestilens are a repulsive tidal wave of filth that smashes into their enemies with the power of a flood.
Gibbering nonsense with lunatic energy the luminescent Pink Horrors whirl and flail their arms, generating raw magic that fills the air. En masse, the Pink Horrors give rise to so much arcane force that they can hurl blasts of unnatural fire at the enemy.