Aktywne filtry
The Orruk Warclans love to fight – in fact, it’s no lie to say that their entire culture revolves around conflict. The swamp-dwelling Kruleboyz are an unusual breed of orruk, for they prize deviousness over brute strength. To the Kruleboyz, winning by underhanded means is worth more than claiming victory in a straight fight – and they're very underhanded indeed...
Ardboy Big Bosses are veteran Ironjawz with an eye for the battlefield and enough bellowing presence to browbeat their lads into line. Only the toughest of Ardboys survive long enough to become a Big Boss – these formidable warriors can turn a boisterous orruk horde into a disciplined killing machine that advances in a semblance of formation before crashing into the enemy like an armoured fist.
Zoggrok Anvilsmasha is a legend amongst the Ironjawz, for he has mastered the art of hammering the destructive force of the Waaagh! into iron, stone, and bone. Accompanied by Klonk, his rockbrow squig, Zoggrok uses his 'bashin' tools' to channel Gorkamorka's power into the weapons of orruks gathered around him. These green-hot blades thrum with wrath, eager to unleash their raging energy in combat.
To be a Tuskboss, an orruk must claim mastery over a particularly ferocious Maw-grunta – an utterly monstrous hog, with enough brute strength and dim-witted determination to batter through anything in its path. These mounted warlords lead the charge by steering their stampeding behemoths straight into the enemy lines, striking down foes left and right as the beast barrels forward with explosive impact.
Brute Ragerz hurl themselves at the biggest and meanest foes, swinging huge two-handed weapons with brutal force. They're driven by frenzied arrogance, desperate to overcome the humiliation of a previous defeat – few things are more dangerous than an orruk determined to prove just how ’ard they really are.
Vashtorr is the Soul Forge King, a daemonic demigod of unrestrained invention and abominable artifice. When the Arkifane takes physical form, it is as a horror of pallid flesh stretched over infernal mechanisms, soaring to battle amidst a cloud of lightning and smog. Vashtorr deals destruction with every whirring step, unleashing techno gheist curses upon his foes even as he fashions enhancements for his indentured daemon engines from the raw stuff of realspace.
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.
Regiments of Renown are storied mercenaries who wander the Mortal Realms, offering their services to whichever armies will help them achieve their own ambitions. Led by warriors famous and infamous alike, these dogs of war recruit like-minded soldiers to join them in their quests to fill their coffers and grow their reputation.
Chaos Cultists are the mortal devotees of the Dark Gods, ordinary men and women fallen to promises of temporal power who take to battle in huge numbers. Bearing a motley collection of improvised, stolen and makeshift weapons, they can overwhelm even determined enemies with sheer weight of numbers.
Haarken Worldclaimer takes a heinous joy in his role as the mouthpiece of Abaddon, for it is he who proclaims the death of worlds. He does so not with some quotidian threat or hollow boast, but by driving his weapon, the Daemon-touched Helspear deep into the heart of citizen and soldier alike. He is a dark omen given form, and the otherworldly destruction he heralds is the coming of the Warmaster himself.