Even in the deadly Zone Mortalis, markets pop up in the crossfire as merchants and scroungers attempt to make a quick sale. Full of rare goods, counterfeit wares, and desirable weapons, these maze-like markets are frequently the sites of firefights between gangs, and the Palanite Enforcers are no stranger to the flimsy cover of a stall's awning.
Commanders of elite kill teams know that victory is often a matter of securing the proper resources and ensuring their operatives have the tools they need to get the job done. Given the critical nature of their missions, kill teams often find themselves equipped with all manner of useful tools, from measuring devices to portable barricades.
The Headsmen’s Curse has come. Nothing shall stay the bite of the dread blade Terminus, for it was fashioned long ago by Nagash himself, and has a vile sentience of its own. Damned souls surround it, bound to serve as judge, jury and executioner. Their former identities are subsumed into the greatsword’s necromantic magic; always there is one to wield the blade, one to sharpen its edge, one to bear the headsman’s block, and a scriptor to sentence the condemned. No matter the crime against the Supreme Necromancer, the sentence is always the same – Death!
The Headsmen’s Curse has come. Nothing shall stay the bite of the dread blade Terminus, for it was fashioned long ago by Nagash himself, and has a vile sentience of its own. Damned souls surround it, bound to serve as judge, jury and executioner. Their former identities are subsumed into the greatsword’s necromantic magic; always there is one to wield the blade, one to sharpen its edge, one to bear the headsman’s block, and a scriptor to sentence the condemned. No matter the crime against the Supreme Necromancer, the sentence is always the same – Death!
A curious affliction has been observed in Wyrdhollow – The energy from loosed Realmshaper Engines is striking living creatures and altering them to some unknown purpose. More sinister still, those affected appear to lose their volition, becoming vessels for a power and will not their own. While little is known about these emotionless Voidcursed Thralls, what is certain is that they are entirely devoted to their mysterious cause, forgoing sleep, safety, and in some cases survival. Those who seek to prevent or defeat them risk falling prey to the same cosmic hex, their flesh being slowly claimed by the star-dotted blackness of the Void itself, until they are little more than silhouettes.
The Adeptus Arbites enforce the Imperium's laws without exception or mercy. Exaction Squads are formed of only the most experienced Arbitrators, called into service to hunt down dangerous transgressors for interrogation and punishment, no matter where they hide. They do not hesitate to crush any who stand in their way, ruthlessly bludgeoning or cutting them down in blazes of firepower, never halting until their target is in custody.
Magic courses through the root-lined halls of the Wyrdhollow, deep beneath the carnivorous Gnarlwood forest. The hellish creatures that make up Ephilim's Pandaemonium seek to harness these arcane energies, and only Domitan's Stormcoven of knightly war-mages stands in their way. Fight through the warped caverns to secure the Wyrdhollow's eldritch power for yourself.
Way-Brethren are the outriders of the Redemption’s wasteland crusades. Mounted on mechanical Ridge Walkers, these tireless pilgrims range ahead of the teeming masses of the faithful, blazing a trail between the shrines and holy sites of Necromunda's ash wastes for those that follow. Ridge Walkers are hardy engine-steeds that turn the Way-Brethren into swift and deadly combatants, capable of charging down foes or bullying through enemy lines with almost knightly vigour.
Cinderak City has fallen, and the rebellious Lady Credo has dealt a significant blow against the Imperial House. Lady Haera Helmawr seeks to consolidate her damaged authority – but even as she sends hundreds of Enforcer patrols flooding into the depths of Hive Primus, a Redemptionist Crusade grows into the tens of thousands, following a mysterious leader in search of a lost prophet...
The Har Kuron Hurricane has descended on the Gnarlwood, and Gryselle the Slaughterer leads her band of gladiators on a mission of sanctified murder to hone their skills. The Arenai are masterful warriors, each a veteran of countless mortal duels – but they are also peerless performers, their acrobatic leaps and dazzling flourishes making every act of carnage a prayer to their bloody god. Gryselle’s coterie of killers each has her own speciality – Retaria vaults across the battlefield while Kalexis launches lightning-fast attacks with her bladed armour. Thrialla uses a barbed whip to toy with her victims, as Traxya punishes each misstep made by her opponent with her blade and buckler.
The root-halls under the Gnarlwood are uncharted territory, where lurking horrors prey on the unwary. Yet even these savage denizens can be bound – whether through magical means or impressive feats of animal handling – and trained to fight alongside warriors with the willpower to command them. Such a warband can charge into battle alongside a terrifying menagerie of beasts which tear into their enemies with vicious stingers, gnashing teeth, and rending claws in a true Beastbound Assault.
Rogue Traders are merchants of death and explorers of the unknown, each granted powers and responsibilities beyond measure by their heirloom Warrant of Trade. Gathering hard-bitten companies of crew, mercenaries, and retainers, these bold privateers venture into hazardous warzones and uncharted space in search of profit. Elucia Vhane stands proud amongst these luminaries. The scion of a noble mercantile dynasty, she seeks to eclipse the rich history of her ancestors – or die trying.