Warbands of the Chaos Space Marines are more often than not motley assortments of Heretic Astartes, grisly mutants, their cultist thralls. The pitiless masters callously spend the lives of the mortal warriors to buy time for the more valuable Heretic Astartes while simultaneously offering those very same Chaos Space Marines to host the Daemons of the warp.
The Chaos Space Marines have been fighting a war of vengeance for ten thousand years, sallying forth from the Eye of Terror to wreak havoc on the Imperium that spurned them. This nightmare realm of warp-tainted space corrupts them in body and mind, but also grants them power. Combined with thousands of years of combat experience, they are some of the most deadly veterans of any fighting force.
Many Chaos Space Marines contingents favour aggressive, highly mobile tactics, rushing headlong to get to grips with the foe as quickly as possible. Their skill, armour, deadly weapons, genetic enhancements, and mobs of disposable cultists make these reckless charges highly effective.
Chaos Space Marines are genetically augmented transhumans who seek only to conquer, slaughter, and despoil. Clad in baroque power armour bedecked in macabre trophies and infernal iconography, Chaos Space Marines do battle alongside growling battle tanks, monstrous Daemon Engines, and thronging masses of cultist thralls. Some are possessed by daemonic allies, others bear Chaos-tainted artefacts or wield warp sorcery. No matter what form they take, they pursue their Long War with pitiless brutality, slaughtering any who stand in their path in an ever-escalating campaign of vengeance, conquest and apocalyptic violence.
The Chaos Space Marines go to war armed with corrupted versions of the already-potent weapons and wargear they used as loyal warriors of the Imperium. They're accompanied by foul daemons, twisted war engines, and hordes of cultist thralls.
Chaos Space Marines are genetically augmented transhumans who seek only to conquer, slaughter, and despoil. They pursue their Long War with pitiless brutality, slaughtering any who stand in their path in an ever-escalating campaign of vengeance, conquest and apocalyptic violence.
The world of Bheta-Decima slides towards utter ruination. From the lightless void comes a Nemesis Claw of the Night Lords Traitor Legion, twisted warriors motivated by cruelty and selfish desire. Yet as these ancient predators hunt for technological treasures on the ocean-rigs of Bheta-Decima, they are hunted in turn by the Mandrakes of Aelindrach – and it may be that even these sadistic monsters have met their gruesome match.
Space Marine Captains fight from the front, and few forms of armour enable them to do so as effectively as Terminator plate. This formidably resilient suit protects the Captain against all but the most devastating enemy fire, and allows them to deploy by teleport strike right into the heart of the foe.
Infernus Squads purge swathes of enemy ranks with the incandescent firestorms they unleash from their pyreblasters. They are close-assault specialists, sending jets of burning promethium into trench lines and bunkers, through dense ruins, and concealing vegetation, ensuring no foe escapes their Chapter’s fiery wrath.
The Ballistus Dreadnought is a walking gun emplacement. Within a shielded sarcophagus at this combat walker's core lies the mortal remains of a fallen Chapter hero. This eternal warrior pilots their hulking war engine through a web of neural links, targeting enemy armour or elite infantry with banks of devastating heavy weapons.
Scout Squads are comprised of Space Marines in training, not yet fully elevated to the ranks of battle-brothers. Nonetheless, each operative is physically and mentally strong and robust by an order of magnitude over unaugmented Humans. All are competent killers and infiltrators, wreaking havoc behind enemy lines and collecting valuable battlefield intelligence.
Blades of Khaine are elite Asuryani fighting formations assembled for a single purpose: severing a precise strand of fate to ensure that a terrible future for their craftworld or their race as a whole never comes to pass. Striking Scorpions burst from concealment after stalking their prey for hours or waiting in position for days – chainswords whirring and mandiblasters spitting needles of white fire.