Stormcast Eternals:...
The Sacristan Engineers of the Sacrosanct Chambers hail from the Ordinatus Conclave – sometimes known as the Conclave of the Thunderbolt for the devastating effect it can have on battle.
Aktywne filtry
The Sacristan Engineers of the Sacrosanct Chambers hail from the Ordinatus Conclave – sometimes known as the Conclave of the Thunderbolt for the devastating effect it can have on battle.
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.
Pack-hunting creatures from the realm of Azyr, Gryph-hounds are noble beasts who detest corruption. Their sharp senses pierce deception as easily as their beaks and claws shred the flesh of the unfaithful.
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.
The eagle-eyed Knight-Judicator is an officer of Angelos Conclaves who wields the terrifying terminus greatbow, a gargantuan weapon that can fell the mightiest of foes from far across the battlefield.
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.