Aktywne filtry
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.
A Curseling is a powerful warrior-mage imbued with daemonic power through a conjoined, spell-moulding homunculus known as a Tretchlet. Important leaders of rituals in Arcanite cults, these two-faced sorcerers love nothing more than turning the magics of their rivals back upon those who cast them.
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.
The worshippers of the Changer of the Ways seek to reshape the Mortal Realms, twisting it into forms more pleasing to their fickle god. Sorcerously-gifted Magisters lead chanting Kairic Acolytes to war alongside braying Tzaangor herds and conjured daemonic entities, leaving a trail of destruction and madness in their wake.
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.
For centuries beyond counting has the race of malevolent ratmen known as the skaven plagued the Mortal Realms. Arrogant, avaricious and utterly without mercy, the skaven seek to annihilate every other sapient creature – expanding, multiplying, and consuming everything in their path until they alone rule over the decaying husk of reality. Those who defy this vision are overwhelmed by swarms of frenzied, red-eyed warriors, weaponized plagues, monstrous beasts and lightning-spitting war machines. Arise, Children of the Great Horned Rat!