When the Wyldwoods of the Sylvaneth stir, enemies of the natural order must be on their guard. The awakened spirits that dwell within these ancient groves are roused to terrible fury by intrusions into their domain. They seek every chance to prey upon those foolish enough to stray beneath their shadowed boughs.
The Era of the Beast sees armies clash across all manner of terrain, from fetid bogs and ancient ruins to wind-blasted plains and snow-capped mountains.
Elite Tzaangors, possessing strange feathers and elaborate horns, the Tzaangor Enlightened are truly blessed with the favour of Tzeentch. They wield ornate spears that set them above their lesser kin, some even riding upon Discs of Tzeentch.
For centuries beyond counting has the race of malevolent ratmen known as the skaven plagued the Mortal Realms. Arrogant, avaricious and utterly without mercy, the skaven seek to annihilate every other sapient creature – expanding, multiplying, and consuming everything in their path until they alone rule over the decaying husk of reality. Those who defy this vision are overwhelmed by swarms of frenzied, red-eyed warriors, weaponized plagues, monstrous beasts and lightning-spitting war machines. Arise, Children of the Great Horned Rat!
Savage, avian beasts dedicated to Tzeentch, Tzaangors have been willingly warped into shapes and forms pleasing to the Architect of Fate.
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.
Many of the Dawnbringer Crusades survived to establish new outposts for the forces of Order, with some eventually growing into settlements in their own right. Others, however, were soon overrun by the rampaging forces of Destruction, and so the realm of Ghur is littered with the ruined, forgotten remnants of a once-hopeful expedition. Future crusades sometimes come across these ruins and skirmish over the remains, seeking answers to the demise of their forebears or perhaps just hoping to recover their lost possessions.
Clanrats mass into huge clawpacks, their vast numbers bolstering their courage and allowing them to surge across the battlefield and overwhelm the enemy, regardless of the hideous casualties they suffer along the way.
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.
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.
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.
The characters and armies of the mortal realms are as varied as they are numerous; myriad bizarre forms, powerful soldiers from the heavens, terrifying, brutish orruks – the miniatures that represent them are spectacular.