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.
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.
Deathmasters are the greatest assassins of the Clans Eshin, trained in the shadowy arts of stealth and contracted to slay those whom influential skaven deem too dangerous to live. Armed with poisoned ‘weeping blades’ and toxin-laced throwing stars, these supernaturally dextrous killers have slain kings and warlords beyond count.
Only the bold dare enter the Gnarlwood, a deadly forest where the very trees uproot themselves to feast upon the flesh of living. Yet glory and riches await those few who can endure this hellish environment, for at the heart of the forest lies Talaxis, the legendary Ravening Ruin, its shattered vaults filled with a thousand artefacts of incalculable power. From the deranged plague-alchemists of the Rotmire Creed to the fanatical demolishers of the Horns of Hashut, warbands from across the realms seek to claim these priceless treasures – and will gladly slaughter anyone that stands in their way.
Reliable, resilient and easily repaired, the Rhino APC has been the mainstay transport of the Adeptus Astartes since time immemorial. The Rhinos maintained by the Chaos Space Marines are grotesque shadows of these loyal troop carriers, daubed with terrifying symbols, smeared with the blood of the slain and covered in spikes – all the better to impale and intimidate the enemies of Chaos.