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.
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.
Trugg is the mightiest of all troggoths. A towering mass of strength and ill temper, he carries atop his back an arcane leystone of ancient design, which fuels his already formidable physical might with unpredictable bursts of elemental magic. In his wake follows a troggherd of unmatched size, shaking the very realms as they wander from leyline to leyline, wrecking everything in their wake.
The Gloomspite Gitz are cunning and vindictive in the extreme, their deranged grotty minds forever spinning up fresh tricks and vicious ploys. Dismiss the cackling cruelty of the grots, the hungry ferocity of their squigs, and the thoughtless strength of the cavern-dwelling troggoths at your peril – these are the true children of the Bad Moon.
Bellowing ‘wakey-wakey’ at deafening volume, Rabble-Rowzas take it upon themselves to rile up the subterranean hordes. So grating are their magically enhanced voices that they can stir even the most stubborn trogg-titans and squiggly beasts from their slumber. When they arrive at a battle, they’re often surrounded by a medley of cranky squigs and mushroom-addled grots.
Trugg is the mightiest of all troggoths. A towering mass of strength and ill temper, he carries atop his back an arcane keystone of ancient design, which fuels his already formidable physical might with unpredictable bursts of elemental magic... and gives him a terrible headache.
It takes a particularly deranged loon to lead the charge clinging onto a pair of Mangler Squigs, but this Loonboss – along with some of his most bonkers cronies – is only too eager to go bounding into battle, crushing all in his path.
Dankhold Troggoths sleep deep underground until the Gloomspite moves them to lumber up to the surface and wreak havoc. They swat and crush everything within reach, soak up spellcraft like sponges, and are nigh unkillable in battle.
Snarlfang Riders prowl at the flanks of a Gloomspite horde, mounted atop cruel, wolf-like beasts raised as steeds from birth. These opportunistic cavalry-grots gleefully hunt down the enemy, loosing volleys of barbed arrows before their ferocious Snarlfang partners pounce upon the foe and tear them apart with fang and claw. Estranged from their subterranean Moonclan cousins, the plains-dwelling Gitmobs join Gloomspite throngs as mercenaries and outriders in a grudging truce fuelled by shared hatreds.
Rockgut Troggoths have stony hides that are proof against blade, bolt and magical blast alike. Their lumpen claws pass through stone as though it were water, allowing them to scoop up huge clubs and throwing boulders at will. Subtle they are not.
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.