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.
Atalan Jackals are fourth generation Neophytes who form the outriders of their gene-sect. They roam the corners of the host planet in search of new regions for their cult to infest.
The Genestealer Cults erupt from the shadows in a tide of xenos-worshipping acolytes, employing ambush and subterfuge to outmanoeuvre their enemies. Utterly immersed in Tyranid gene-taint, the cult's Neophyte Hybrids and more mutated Acolyte Hybrids rise up against their oppressors, armed with a variety of repurposed industrial equipment – from powerful mining lasers to heavy machinery like the Goliath Rockgrinder. Guided by the insidious psychic presence of a Magus, the misshapen Aberrants lope from the shadows to reinforce their kin, swinging crushing mauls to deadly effect.
There is no engine of the oppressors that a Reductus Saboteur cannot lay low, and there are few materials they cannot fashion into an explosive given a little time to tinker. Flitting through the shadows, they lace the battlefield with booby traps and deploy powerful explosives that make short work of enemy armour.
Infernal Masters forge pacts with daemonic entities, referred to in the lore of Prospero as tutelaries. Chanting jagged syllables and making promises of blood and souls, they unleash the powers of these malign familiars to engulf their foes in swarms of momentarily corporeal terrors, to divine whispers of the future, or to master the currents of the warp itself.
The Thousand Sons advance into battle amidst gouts of kaleidoscopic warpflame and bolts of raw sorcery. The heart of these arcane armies is comprised of Rubricae – implacable warriors who level salvo after salvo against the foe, marching at the command of the mighty Sorcerers and diabolic Infernal Masters who rule their fractured Legion. Around them come shrieking herds of Tzaangor, mutant shock troops armed with cursed blades and dark sorcery.
The air screams as Magnus the Red descends from the skies, and stone runs molten beneath his shadow. Cyclopean son of the Emperor of Mankind, his very presence is anathema to logic.
Built to withstand the pressures and challenges of underground mining, the Goliath Rockgrinder is a devastating piece of equipment when turned to aggression.
Basking in the sheer alien glory of the patron that infected them, Acolyte Hybrids croon and hiss in the gloom.
Twisted arcanists, wicked of intent and strange of form, Exalted Sorcerers have an encyclopædic knowledge of spells and are able to bend reality to their desires.