Adeptus Mechanicus Dice Set
The Tech-Priests of Mars march forth at the head of cybernetic legions, protected by barely understood relics of a bygone era, and wielding devastating and bizarre weapons to obliterate their foes.
The Tech-Priests of Mars march forth at the head of cybernetic legions, protected by barely understood relics of a bygone era, and wielding devastating and bizarre weapons to obliterate their foes.
The Archons are the masters of the Drukhari Kabals. Regal and monstrous in equal measure, each wields the power to enslave worlds and destroy civilisations.
Technoarcheologists are seekers of divine mechanical arcana, driven to uncover that which is hidden, and to analyse its capabilities. Hardened to life on the Imperium’s dangerous frontiers, these priests employ cogitative instincts to detect approaching foes and awaken their servitor guardians to effective modes of attack. Even in the midst of battle, Technoarcheologists guide their servants through vital procedures with a machine-like focus.
A rich and daring Drukhari may surrender himself to the Haemonculi, requesting that his bones be hollowed out, that bands of new muscle be grafted onto his torso, and powerful wings and adrenaline dispensers be attached to his shoulders so that he is capable of true flight.
A Sydonian Skatros is a sinister cybernetic sentinel, stoic and unmoving until the moment an enemy strays into range of their huge rifle. Mechanical, stilt-like limbs allow them to traverse hazardous terrain and survey the environment, shrouded by a smog of incense-exhaust. With protocol-driven precision and an advanced scanner known as the achillan eye, they lock on to their foes’ weakpoints and unleash pinpoint fire that sows panic and agony – all the better for eroding enemy morale.
The Drukhari rely heavily on surprise and raw speed, and hence their skycraft are all fast and manoeuvrable.
Lelith Hesperax’s athleticism is far beyond those of other Wyches. She has raised death to a high art, wielding nothing more than simple knives. Gifting her victims with precise wounds in a blur of blade and flesh, she finishes in a bloody finale with a gory flourish.
In Drazhar, the Incubi ideal of violent perfection is exquisitely personified. His every strike exemplifies the tenets of his order, and each life he claims serves as a gruesome liturgy for his dark brethren.