Aktywne filtry
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.
The Adeptus Mechanicus march to war as a disturbing fusion of flesh and machine, ruling Tech-Priests and fanatical cyborg followers raising modified voices in binharic praise of the Machine God. Purge Corps Deltic-9 are equipped to scour the contamination of enemy presence from locations of strategic or exploratory importance, employing cybernetic speed and terrifying weapons. Cavalry and winged Pteraxii unleash gouts of purging flame, before radioactive Skitarii bring up the rear to reclaim whatever remains.
A Sydonian Skatros is a sinister cybernetic sentinel, stoic and unmoving until the moment an enemy strays into range of their huge rifle. Mechanical, stilt-like limbs allow them to traverse hazardous terrain and survey the environment, shrouded by a smog of incense-exhaust. With protocol-driven precision and an advanced scanner known as the achillan eye, they lock on to their foes’ weakpoints and unleash pinpoint fire that sows panic and agony – all the better for eroding enemy morale.
The Adeptus Mechanicus are the fanatical worshippers of the Machine God of Mars. For thousands of years the robed priests of the Machine Cult have presided over the fabrication, maintenance, and preservation of Humanity’s surviving technological wonders with reverence and ritual. Led by Tech-Priests whose weak organic flesh has been replaced with metallic augmentations, their armies fight to defend forge worlds and strike out across the galaxy in search of ancient archeotech.
The Tech-Priests of Mars march forth at the head of cybernetic legions, protected by barely understood relics of a bygone era, and wielding devastating and bizarre weapons to obliterate their foes.
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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.
Rabble-Rowzas are grots who have taken it upon themselves to rile up the subterranean hordes. These self-important agitators clatter their weapons, stamp their feet, and bellow ‘wakey-wakey’ at deafening volume. So grating are their magically enhanced voices that they can stir even the most stubborn troglodytic titans from their slumber.
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.
The Hedonites of Slaanesh revel in suffering, and worship their absent deity by engaging in the most vile acts imaginable. Empowered by depravity and addicted to extremes of sensation, the servants of the Dark Prince are a scourge on the realms. Each warband is an unpredictable and quixotic terror, guided by diabolical whims as they conquer and pillage.
Lords of Hubris are utterly enamoured with their own magnificence, strutting peacocks who swagger into battle, loudly demanding that the enemy’s finest face them in single combat. Those foolish enough to answer this challenge are cut to ribbons in a matter of seconds, for these champions have honed their bladework to perfection, and are accompanied by only the most elite Slaaneshi warriors.
The Hedonites of Slaanesh cavort across the realms in vile carnivals of sin and excess, seeking the scent of their absent deity, the Dark Prince. Those who find themselves in the path of these raiders are destined to die a slow and painful death, for the Hedonites are sensation-seekers without compare, utterly dedicated to indulging their sadistic desires upon the battlefield. Hosts of majestic, sinuous daemons slice a contemptuous path through the enemy, while silk-draped mortals seek to inflict the most exquisite agonies imaginable, the tormented soul of each slain foe offered up as tribute to their cruel master.