Aktywne filtry
Powering into battle on a trio of articulated track units, the Myphitic Blight-hauler is a light Daemon Engine that provides the Death Guard with heavy firepower wherever it is needed.
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.
Sworn to Nurgle’s service, Plague Marines have disgusting, rotted bodies that stink of decay.
Sworn to Nurgle’s service, Plague Marines have disgusting, rotted bodies that stink of decay.
The great labour of the Death Guard is to spread Nurgle’s bounteous gift to every corner of realspace.
Sinister, hooded figures, Plague Surgeons drift through the mayhem of battle like ghoulish spectres of death.
The worshippers of the Dark Gods know that there is power in words and numbers, incantations and arcane numerology. Seven is the unholy number of Nurgle, and the preachers of this doctrine are the Tallymen.
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.
Shambling across the battlefield in reeking hordes, Poxwalkers engulf their enemies in rotting tides of grasping hands, gnashing teeth and squirming tentacles. They are the cursed victims of Nurgle’s plagues, transformed into unliving weapons by the cruel masters of the Death Guard.
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.
Typhus, Lord of Mortarion’s First Plague Company and Host of the Destroyer Hive, is the most feared of all Plague Fleet commanders.
As deadly as they are graceful, the warlike aelves of the Daughters of Khaine seek to spill gushing torrents of blood in the name of their violent deity. From humble origins, the cult of the Bloody-Handed One has come to dominate vast swathes of the Mortal Realms. Guided by the cruel genius of the newly risen goddess Morathi-Khaine, these merciless aelves surge forth on gore-soaked campaigns of conquest, overwhelming their foes in a whirlwind of blades and lashing whips. With every drop of blood that splashes across their skin, their murderous power reaches new and terrifying heights.