The core of a Beastclaw Raiders Alfrostun, Ogors mounted on Mournfangs are always at the vanguard of a raid’s assault. Wielding clubs, blades and pistols, they’re very, very good at blocking an enemy’s attack before laying into them with wild abandon. The beasts they ride are equally fearsome, trampling to a pulp anything and everything unfortunate enough to get in the way.
The Ogor Mawtribes are nomadic empires of brutish juggernauts that range across the lands, raiding and pillaging to appease their insatiable hunger. Iron-fisted Tyrants lead young and bullish Gluttons to war as gnoblar attendants scurry about their feet, supported by roaring blasts from the salvaged cannons of Leadbelchers and Ironblasters while Mournfang riders from the Beastclaw tribes savage the enemy flanks.
Ogors Mawtribes sweep across the realms and devour all in their migratory path, juggernauts of fat and muscle who crush their prey with clubs, rusted blades, and sheer bulk. When the ogors are on the Mawpath, the ground rumbles even above their prodigious bellies. Roars, belches, and booming laughs ring out as they charge, their battering-ram impact a weapon in itself. Mighty warglutts heed the call of blood-smeared shamans, while Beastclaw Raiders ride to battle on behemoths that hail from the cursed blizzard of the Everwinter. To stand in their path is to be devoured.
A master of the wild steppes, a Frostlord leads his ogors into the battles that sustain them. Atop a Stonehorn he is virtually unstoppable, the hooves of his steed grinding enemies into paste. His booming voice directs his raiders to the most vulnerable flanks of the foe – where the Frostlord on Stonehorn rides, brutality follows.
Bloodpelt Hunters seek out the largest and most formidable creatures, stalking them unseen with the guile and ferocity of an alpha predator. When their quarry is within reach, these alarmingly stealthy ogors close in for the kill, maiming it with crude iron crossbow bolts before hacking it apart with axes and machetes.
Infused with the post-human might of the Primaris miracle, these Crusader Squads storm into battle with bolt rifles blazing and Astartes chainswords howling.
Every Sword Brother has earned their place among the Marshal's household through acts of unswerving faith and spectacular violence.
As grizzled a warrior as his Chapter has ever known, High Chaplain Grimaldus is a beacon of Imperial faith. His fortitude is such that many of his brothers believe him invincible.
Helbrecht is the living embodiment of his Chapter's warrior spirit. Wielding the Sword of the High Marshals, he storms into the fray, bellowing oaths of vengeance as he leads the unstoppable charge.
The Emperor's Champion is a humble warrior plucked out of the ranks of the Black Templars by the divine will of the Emperor himself.
The Black Templars surge into battle like the Emperor's wrath made manifest. Streaking down from the void or thundering to war in mechanised spearheads, they strike with a fury that leaves Mankind's enemies reeling.
Leading their Black Templars brethren from the front lines, Marshals exemplify the strength and skill of the warriors under their command.