Twisted arcanists, wicked of intent and strange of form, Exalted Sorcerers have an encyclopædic knowledge of spells and are able to bend reality to their desires.
Scarab Occult Terminators were once the finest psykers in the Thousand Sons Legion, bodyguards to Magnus the Red himself. Reduced to dust along with their brethren, they now possess only an echo of their previous intellect.
Namarti Reavers provide the archers and scouts for the Idoneth Deepkin phalanxes.
The air screams as Magnus the Red descends from the skies, and stone runs molten beneath his shadow. Cyclopean son of the Emperor of Mankind, his very presence is anathema to logic.
It is the Tidecasters who conjure the phantasmal sea that allows aelf and aquatic beast to move and breathe as if they were in their own natural environment.
Idolised echoes of a bygone era, the Eidolons of Mathlann are summoned to life in times of dire need. These are no divine avatars, however, but collective manifestations of the ancestral souls of the Idoneth Deepkin, spirits of vengeance wrapped in the image of a lost aelven god.
Stepping out from the fog of war come the Rubricae. Many of these undying warriors were psykers in their own right, before an ancient curse damned them to an eternity as living husks – their baroque power armour now contains nothing but sparkling dust.
Shrugging off enemy missiles, the Akhelian Leviadon plunges into the fray. Scythed fins dismember foes while the beast’s powerful jaws clamp down with enough force to crush tempered steel.
No troops exemplify the Idoneth Deepkin way of life more than the Akhelian Guard. Mounted atop Fangmora Eels, they fight in a loose formation ideal for rapid assaults and sudden retreats, typifying the hit-and-run style of war common amongst the aelves of the depths.
For ten thousand years, the seeker of arcane truths known as Ahriman has roamed the galaxy in a quest to acquire every artefact, every tome and every scroll that harbours eldritch powers
The Thousand Sons advance into battle amidst gouts of kaleidoscopic warpflame and bolts of raw sorcery. The heart of these arcane armies is comprised of Rubricae – implacable warriors who level salvo after salvo against the foe, marching at the command of the mighty Sorcerers and diabolic Infernal Masters who rule their fractured Legion. Around them come shrieking herds of Tzaangor, mutant shock troops armed with cursed blades and dark sorcery.
At first they appear as spectral blurs in the ethersea, distant streamlined shapes that seem to materialise from nowhere. With powerful thrusts of their sickle-finned tails, the forms grow all too quickly as they launch their attack