Aktywne filtry
Stormcast Eternals are each forged in Azyr by Sigmar's own hand. Riding thunderbolts, they arrive on the battlefield with an ear-splitting thunderclap, ready to face the forces of Chaos, Death and Destruction.
Ionus Cryptborn is a living legend, descending like a silent shadow over the most beleaguered of battlefields. His prayers are capable of calling down wicked maelstroms of lightning that can smash through sieges, and electrocute armies.
Ionus Cryptborn is a living legend who descends like a silent shadow over the most beleaguered battlefields on the back of his terrifying Draconith, Cthorak. Accompanying him into battle are his Stormwing – a pair of mighty Stormdrake Guard who ride their own impressive Draconith mounts. When a host of mighty Draconith, such as these, take flight, they unleash the most righteous fury of Sigmar.
From scions of the Dark Gods to marauding orruk warlords, threats to Sigmar’s people lurk in every corner of the realms. Neave Blacktalon, the God-King’s foremost assassin, is tasked with puting down these fell champions. In battle, Neave travels upon winds of magic to unleash storms of never-ending axe blows. Fighting alongside her are the Blacktalons, a band of tightly knit companions, each a warrior of deadly renown.
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.
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.
Accursed Cultists have diverse and terrifying origins – whether born of dark ritual, empyric experimentation, or the predation of malign entities, these abberations are herded into battle as lurching shock troops, their tainted flesh reknitting grievous wounds with unnatural vigour. Once they reach close quarters, Mutants flail and lash at the enemy with claws or tendrils, while the horribly-warped Torments pounce with bestial hunger.
A Lord Discordant is a machine-obsessed heretic who scuttles across the battlefield atop a Helstalker mount, all the while exuding a palpable aura of anarchy. His mere presence short-circuits machinery not already riddled with daemonic entities – actuators and servos whir erratically, and targeting augurs simply cease to function. The Lord Discordant siphons off the pained spirit of dying vehicles, using the harvested energy to reinvigorate other Daemon Engines or releasing it as a screaming beam to infect the systems of other enemy vehicles. The most famous among the Lords Discordant, Vex Machinator, brought anarchy to the hivesprawls of Vigilus during the War of Nightmares.