Belthanos leads the eternal hunt that keeps his master Kurnoth’s spirit in bloom. Cloaked in leaves and riding atop a Carnelian Greatspite made of pure life magic, he chases down those who would harm Ghyran so that his howling followers might rip them apart.
Belthanos, the First Thorn of Kurnoth, leads the eternal hunt that keeps his master’s spirit in bloom. Cloaked in evergreen and riding atop a Carnelian Greatspite made of pure life magic, he chases down those who would harm Ghyran so that his howling Revenant Seeker and Kurnoth Hunter followers might rip them apart.
The air sings with glorious life magic as the children of Alarielle surge into battle. Embittered noble spirits command the fury of the forest, hissing Branchwyches leading from the front as verdant wyldwoods burst forth from the heaving ground. Mighty wargroves advance in defence of life itself, Tree-Revenants striking without warning as relentless Kurnoth Hunters and ancient Treelords crush enemies with inexorable, arboreal strength.
A breed of forest spirit only recently-emerged into the ranks of the Sylvaneth, the Gossamid Archers are afforded the power of flight by the zephyrwing spites that clasp their torsos. With impressive speed and mobility, the Archers fly to wherever they're needed on the battlefield, swooping low to shoot at the enemy and evading counter-assaults with a swarm of insectile distractions. A gruesome fate awaits any struck by the shafts fired by these symbiotic skirmishers – the arrowheads contain voracious grubs that devour the target from within.
The Spiterider Lancers are Alarielle's elite cavalry, mounted upon agile Dragonspites whose bodies thrum with the energies of Life. Taming one of these ancient insectoid predators is a quest in itself – their forest spirit riders deftly swoop and whirl above the battlefield before suddenly diving into a charge, striking the enemy lines with shocking force. The enemies of the Everqueen are left with nowhere to hide when the Spiterider Lancers are unleashed from the vales.
Strange and fey are the Sylvaneth, children of the life goddess Alarielle. These forest spirits have long dwelt in the woods of the Mortal Realms, protecting places of power from malign trespassers and the warping touch of Chaos. As the effects of the Everqueen’s Rite of Life are felt across the cosmos, the Sylvaneth find themselves once more on the offensive. With vital sorcery, enchanted blade, and oaken talon, they will ensure that the power of their goddess’s great ritual takes hold across all lands.
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.
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.
Scarab Occult Terminators were once the finest psykers in the Thousand Sons Legion, bodyguards to Magnus the Red himself. Reduced to dust along with their brethren, they now possess only an echo of their previous intellect.
Stepping out from the fog of war come the Rubricae. Many of these undying warriors were psykers in their own right, before an ancient curse damned them to an eternity as living husks – their baroque power armour now contains nothing but sparkling dust.