Minions of The Dark Gods

THE ARMY OF RUIN .......................................................................................................................................
1
A note on Warhammer Scale & Range ......................................................................................................... 7
PRIMARY UNITS............................................................................................................................................. 8
Ungors ....................................................................................................................................................... 8
Gors ......................................................................................................................................................... 10
Chaos Marauders (Northmen) ................................................................................................................ 12
Sub-Unit: Flayerkin .............................................................................................................................. 15
Norse Warhird......................................................................................................................................... 17
Forsaken/Darksoul .................................................................................................................................. 23
Orc & Goblin Slaves................................................................................................................................. 26
Hobgoblins .............................................................................................................................................. 27
Chaos Dwarf Legions ............................................................................................................................... 29
The Infernal/Immortal Guard ................................................................................................................. 30
==Daemonic Forces== ............................................................................................................................. 33
Bloodletters............................................................................................................................................. 34
Pink/Blue Horrors.................................................................................................................................... 35
Plaguebeaerer ......................................................................................................................................... 36
Daemonettes........................................................................................................................................... 38
The Chaos Undead .................................................................................................................................. 41
Army of the Cairns .................................................................................................................................. 42
Gnoblars .................................................................................................................................................. 44
Line Breakers............................................................................................................................................... 47
Bestigors.................................................................................................................................................. 47
MInotaurs................................................................................................................................................ 48
Tuskagor Chariot ..................................................................................................................................... 50
Razorgors Chariot.................................................................................................................................... 51
Chosen .................................................................................................................................................... 53
Chaos Knights .......................................................................................................................................... 55
Skullcrushers/Bloodcrushers of Khorne.................................................................................................. 57
Blood Dragon(Knight).............................................................................................................................. 60
The Skaramor .......................................................................................................................................... 63
Putrid Blightkings .................................................................................................................................... 65
Chaos Ogres ............................................................................................................................................ 69
CHAOS OGRE TRIBES ............................................................................................................................... 71
Ogre Bulls ............................................................................................................................................ 73
Ironguts ............................................................................................................................................... 74
Leadbelchers ....................................................................................................................................... 75
Maneaters ........................................................................................................................................... 76
Yhetees................................................................................................................................................ 78
Gorger ................................................................................................................................................. 79
SaberTusk Pack ................................................................................................................................... 80
Mourningfang Cavalry......................................................................................................................... 82
Rhinox Riders ...................................................................................................................................... 83
Ironblaster ........................................................................................................................................... 83
StoneHorn ........................................................................................................................................... 84
Thundertusk ........................................................................................................................................ 86
Hunter ................................................................................................................................................. 87
Chaos/Bile Trolls ..................................................................................................................................... 90
Dragon Ogres .......................................................................................................................................... 92
Bull Centaur............................................................................................................................................. 95
Chaos Spawn ........................................................................................................................................... 96
THE DRUICHI: CULT OF BLOOD ............................................................................................................... 98
Brides of Khaine ................................................................................................................................ 100
Har Ganeath Executioners ................................................................................................................ 102
Sisters of Slaughter ........................................................................................................................... 102
Druichi Warriors ................................................................................................................................ 104
Cauldron of Blood ............................................................................................................................. 105
Rapid Relief ............................................................................................................................................... 106
Chaos Warhounds ................................................................................................................................. 106
Skin Wolves/Ulfrenar ............................................................................................................................ 110
Centigors ............................................................................................................................................... 112
Toxotes Hellmounts ............................................................................................................................. 114
Harpies .................................................................................................................................................. 115
Marauder Horsemen/Hobgoblin Wolf Riders....................................................................................... 117
Hellstriders and Seekers of Slaanesh .................................................................................................... 121
Plague Toads/Pox Riders....................................................................................................................... 125
Daemonic Hounds ................................................................................................................................. 126
Plague Drone ......................................................................................................................................... 129
Nurglings ............................................................................................................................................... 131
Flamer ................................................................................................................................................... 135
Screamers.............................................................................................................................................. 137
Slaaneshi Fiends .................................................................................................................................... 138
Burning Chariots of Tzeentch ................................................................................................................ 140
Chariots of Slaanesh.............................................................................................................................. 141
Chaos Furies .......................................................................................................................................... 144
Shock and Awe .......................................................................................................................................... 145
Cygor ..................................................................................................................................................... 145
Jabberslythes ........................................................................................................................................ 147
Doombull............................................................................................................................................... 150
Ghorgons ............................................................................................................................................... 152
Chaos/Siege Giants ............................................................................................................................... 156
Siege Giant ............................................................................................................................................ 159
Dragon Ogre Shaggoths ........................................................................................................................ 162
Multilath Vortex Beast .......................................................................................................................... 164
SlaughterBrute ...................................................................................................................................... 166
Chaos War Mammoth ........................................................................................................................... 169
Kdaai..................................................................................................................................................... 172
Chimera ................................................................................................................................................. 174
Chaos/Toad Dragon .............................................................................................................................. 176
Skull Cannon.......................................................................................................................................... 181
Soul Grinders......................................................................................................................................... 183
==Chaos Dwarf Artillery= ...................................................................................................................... 185
==Hellbound== .................................................................................................................................. 186
Iron Daemon War Engine .................................................................................................................. 187
Magma Cannon ................................................................................................................................. 189
Deathshrieker Rockets ...................................................................................................................... 190
Dreadquake Mortar .......................................................................................................................... 193
Hellcannon ........................................................................................................................................ 195
==Ultra-Rare Contraptions== ................................................................................................................ 200
Bazuka and Swivel Gun ..................................................................................................................... 201
Whirlwind and Tenderizers ............................................................................................................... 203
The Kollossus ..................................................................................................................................... 206
Hobgoblin Bolt-Thrower ....................................................................................................................... 207
Storm of Chaos Summoned Monsters .................................................................................................. 207
Basilisk ............................................................................................................................................... 207
Cockatrice.......................................................................................................................................... 209
Giant Spined Chaos Beast ................................................................................................................. 210
Incarnate Elemental of Beasts .......................................................................................................... 212
Curs'd Ettin ........................................................................................................................................ 212
Preyton .............................................................................................................................................. 213
SPECIALIST SUPPORT................................................................................................................................. 214
Chaos Warshrine ................................................................................................................................... 215
Bray-Shaman ......................................................................................................................................... 217
Wargor/Beastlord ................................................................................................................................. 218
Exalted Hero/Champion........................................................................................................................ 220
Chaos Lord ............................................................................................................................................ 224
Chaos Sorcerer ...................................................................................................................................... 226
Warlord Mounts.................................................................................................................................... 228
Daemonic Horses .............................................................................................................................. 229
Discs of Tzeentch .............................................................................................................................. 229
Palanquins of Nurgle ......................................................................................................................... 231
Manticore.......................................................................................................................................... 231
Great and Bale Taurus....................................................................................................................... 232
Lammasu ........................................................................................................................................... 234
The Blood Throne.................................................................................................................................. 235
Daemon Prince ...................................................................................................................................... 236
Heralds of the Gods .............................................................................................................................. 238
Heralds of Khorne ............................................................................................................................. 238
Herald of Tzeentch ............................................................................................................................ 239
HERALD OF URGLE ............................................................................................................................ 240
Herald of Slaanesh ............................................................................................................................ 241
===Greater Daemons=== ...................................................................................................................... 242
Bloodthirster ......................................................................................................................................... 243
Bloodthirster of Unfettered Fury ...................................................................................................... 245
Bloodthirsters of Insensate Rage ...................................................................................................... 247
Wrath of Khorne ............................................................................................................................... 249
Lord of Change ...................................................................................................................................... 252
Great Unclean One................................................................................................................................ 254
Keeper of Secrets .................................................................................................................................. 259
EXALTED GREATER DAEMONS .............................................................................................................. 262
Chaos Dwarf Daemonsmith/Sorcerer-Prophet..................................................................................... 265
Chaos Dwarf Thegns ............................................................................................................................. 268
Dark Emissaries/Fenbeasts ................................................................................................................... 271
The Fimir ............................................................................................................................................... 274
Standards & Magical Banners ............................................................................................................... 277
Beastmen .......................................................................................................................................... 278
Daemons of Chaos ............................................................................................................................ 279
Warriors of Chaos ............................................................................................................................. 280
Chaos Dwarf ...................................................................................................................................... 280
Khainite Assassin ................................................................................................................................... 282
Chaos Elves (Cult of Pleasure) ............................................................................................................... 288
Dark Elf Warrior ................................................................................................................................ 290
Shades ............................................................................................................................................... 290
Dark Rider ......................................................................................................................................... 290
Cold One Rider .................................................................................................................................. 291
The Highborn(Nobles) ....................................................................................................................... 292
Reaper Bolt Thrower ......................................................................................................................... 293
Sorceress ........................................................................................................................................... 293
==LORE OF DHAR== .......................................................................................................................... 294
Anointed............................................................................................................................................ 295
Ogre Leadership .................................................................................................................................... 297
===THE LORE OF THE GREAT MAW== .............................................................................................. 299
The Forgotten Races ............................................................................................................................. 301
THE NAGA.......................................................................................................................................... 301
THE INSECT EMPIRE .......................................................................................................................... 302
THE EMPIRE OF WORMS ................................................................................................................... 302
The Carrion Children ............................................................................................................................. 304
Minor Daemons .................................................................................................................................... 307
Changeworm ..................................................................................................................................... 307
Heirs of Change ................................................................................................................................. 307
Imps................................................................................................................................................... 308
Skinchangers & Soulstealers ............................................................................................................. 308
THE FLEETS OF RUIN ................................................................................................................................. 310
Ship Type: .............................................................................................................................................. 310
The Norse .............................................................................................................................................. 311
Norse Kingship .................................................................................................................................. 311
Norse Longship.................................................................................................................................. 312
The Druchi Vessels ................................................................................................................................ 314
Black Ark............................................................................................................................................ 314
Doomreaver ...................................................................................................................................... 316
Death Fortress................................................................................................................................... 317
Other Druichi Vessels ........................................................................................................................ 318
The Chaos Dwarf Armada ..................................................................................................................... 318
The BattleBarges ............................................................................................................................... 319
Hull Destroyer & Thunder Roller....................................................................................................... 321
Plaguefleets........................................................................................................................................... 322
Blessings of Tzeentch ........................................................................................................................ 323
Blessings of Khorne ........................................................................................................................... 324
Blessings of Slaanesh ........................................................................................................................ 325
Blessings of Nurgle ............................................................................................................................ 326
Ship Magic ......................................................................................................................................... 326
Khorne Bloodship .............................................................................................................................. 328
Khorne Ironshark .............................................................................................................................. 329
Slaanesh Hellship .............................................................................................................................. 330
Slaanesh Hellrammer & Hellslicer ..................................................................................................... 332
Nurgle Plagueship ............................................................................................................................. 333
Nurgle Plaguecrusher & Deathgalley ................................................................................................ 334
Tzeentch Great Winged Terror ......................................................................................................... 336
Bane Tower of Tzeentch ................................................................................................................... 337
Sea Monsters ........................................................................................................................................ 339
Chaos Corruption & The Sea ................................................................................................................. 342
Legendary Ships .................................................................................................................................... 343
HeldenHammer ................................................................................................................................. 344
Bloody Reaver ................................................................................................................................... 345
Flaming Scimitar ................................................................................................................................ 346
SeaDrake ........................................................................................................................................... 349
Curse of Zandri .................................................................................................................................. 350
ShadeWraith ..................................................................................................................................... 352
Black Kraken ...................................................................................................................................... 353
The Swordfysh................................................................................................................................... 354
Warhammer, as a tabletop game, is played in measurements of inches that reflect scaled down
versions of the massive battles in Warhammer Fantasy. This is a pragmatic decision, as no one
could afford the tens of thousands of models that would otherwise be required or the vast distances
that such battles occur in Warhammer lore. The proper model to scale ratio for Warhammer
Fantasy is illustrated in the Appendix 2 section of the 5th edition rulebook, also this is a dated
reference.
According to the Appendix every inch in tabletop is equal to ten meters in real life, and thus
the longbows capable of shooting 24 inches have an effective range of 240 meters in real life. A
cannon shooting at 48 inches can be said to have an effective range of 480 meters. In addition the
same scale states that every model in a regiment (not heroic characters) can be considered to equal
ten for the purposes of lore.
For the purposes of this profile I will use three ranged systems. I will use a combination of real
world ranges with the ranges given in the game to calculate
Maximum Range: This is considered the maximum range a projectile can travel before either
stopping or at least slowing down past the lethal speed it would need. In general, for medieval
weapons or their kin, this range is considered 2x or sometimes 3x the effective range. A target
hit in the span of distance between Maximum and Effective range might possibly be hit
Effective Range: The ranges used within the Warhammer tabletop can lore wise be considered the
effective or maximum effective range of the weapon in question. The U.S. military defines
maximum effective range as The maximum distance at which a weapon may be expected to be
accurate and achieve the desired effect. Maximum Effective Range does not mean
guaranteed hit within that range as this is affected by shooter accuracy, evasion of the would-be
victim, environmental conditions etc. In addition different races have certain attributes that might
affect this range further, like how a skilled Elven archer might achieve accurate shots even above a
weapons nominal max range.
To determine the effective and maximum ranges, I will use a mixture of real world and tabletop
measurements.
Preferred Range: Psychology more than anything else this signifies what range the unit, by its own
preference, would choose to be in. A melee oriented foe equipped with a ranged weapon would, by
choice, shoot off a round or two before charging into melee or even forgo ranged completely. As one
can imagine, those followers of Khorne are heavily melee reliant. Meanwhile an enemy with a
Ranged preference would stay in the rear firing until they ran out of ammunition or ordered into
melee. This could be for a myriad of reasons such as regiment training, equipment or even general
cowardice! Those with a neutral preference can be considered fine in either
Mobility: 5 (Faster than a man)
Training/Experience: 2-3
Max Range: 360 meters
Effective Range: 180 meters
Preferred Range: Melee
BASIC DESCRIPTION
Ungors are one of the most common forms of Beastman. Unlike other forms of the faction, these
Beastmen lack the thick hide and long horns of the other variants, with the horns for this Beastman
being likened to short stubs. This is in part because they are composed primarily of rejected human
mutants and the weakest stock of "natural born" Beastmen. Nevertheless they are still exceptionally
fast, strong and speedy by human standards.
The life of an ungor is truly horrific. They are held in contempt for their short horns by other
Beastmen and are always last in line for food, water and loot. In fact when food is short they are
cannibalized. Situated farthest from the campfire they often freeze during the winter, or else are
preyed upon by the warhounds, harpies and spawn that sometimes roam the edges of the
encampment. Other times Gors will simply kill one for the flimsiest of excuses.
Naturally, such a life offers naught but constant pain and an eventual violent death, which each
Ungor instinctively knows. This has turned them into spiteful creatures, full of rage and hatred
towards the rest of life that surpasses the rest of their kind. They are far more likely to torture than
a regular Beastman, and sometimes the scout version will even sidetrack campaigns to take the
time to take out their hate on a hapless farmer or something.
While most Ungors are spearmen, a variant exists that chooses to fight from afar with bows.
This is unique among Beastmen, which by and large holds ranged weaponry with contempt (this
is another reason Ungors are not considered true Beastmen by the Gors). It is the job of these
Ungor Raiders to scout the enemy, find hidden units, useful geographical positions, and provide
valuable Intel to allow the Beastman commander to surround and destroy the enemy. In battle they
attempt to harass the enemy as best they can and hopefully target weak units, though sometimes
they give into their natural inclination for melee combat.
== LOADOUT ==
Offense: Ungors can loot all sorts of weapons such

as clubs, rusted weaponry etc. Some variants from
other lands, like the Daemonbreed of the South
Pole, might use an exotic weapon, like a pike.
However a sharpened wooden spear with a
rusted iron head seems to be the most common
weapon seen amongst this breed.
Ungor Raiders favor a short bow, with a backup

hand weapon available. This type of bow can be
reloaded quickly and is cheap to create, but has
less ranged and doesnt hit as hard as the longbow.
Defenses: Ungor spearmen sometimes carry

crude wooden shields. Occasionally they might
successfully loot a helmet or something menial.
Ungor Raiders have no defense.
== ADDITIONAL FACTORS ==
Ungors are the closest thing Beastmen have to logistical support, as it is they who carve runes,
build crude huts, and fix broken weapons with whatever means they have available.
Mobility: 5
Max Range: Hurled Weapons
Effective Range: Melee
Of the actual Beastmen (for Ungors are not considered

such by their brethren) the Gors are the most common
and basic architype. In the area around the Empire they
take the form of having a goat's head and legs, with the
torso of a man, though as mentioned earlier this is not
universal everywhere. They are more powerfully built
than the Ungor, with gouging horns, strength far in excess
to a man, and a bestial rage that is ever bubbling below the
surface.
Like the Ungor the Gor's role can be divided twofold. In

any battle a large portion of them would attack the
front, serving as a powerful assault force as well as a
(unwitting) screen for the Bestigors. Their loud braying,
brawl, bark and stamping means it is hard for the enemy not to see evidence of their presence,
however they can be somewhat stealthy when they need to be. While running into combat, Gors
often push their smaller cousins out front to take the missile hits, but in melee the opposite is true,
with gors pushing through ungors who hit between the gaps with spears. While a portion assaults
from the front another portion, along
with the ungors, tries to encircle the
foe. Though this sometimes results in
failures as unreliable scouts get them lost
it is just as common that the Beastmen
emerge on the flanks or even rear of the
enemy!
== LOADOUT ==
Offense: Like the Ungors the Gors are

shown with often rusted, crude and
antiquated weaponry. These include large
clubs, axes, hammers, flails, maces, or
giant cleavers. These can be dual wielded
if they are not exceptionally large. Also
over time they will acquire and use looted weaponry, with rarer elements (Ind Beastmen) using
rarer weapons.
Gors are boastful of their horns, and in anticipation for battle will polish, sharpen and smear these
horns with poison or decayed animal matter for use in battle.
Defenses: While the Gor might sometimes strap scraps of armor onto themselves they generally
rely on their thick hide and natural durability. The former can offer some protection at least from
low penetration arrows. Sometimes they may sport a wooden shield.
Mobility: 4
Training/Experience: 5
Max Range: 40 meters Thrown weapons (some exceptions)
Effective Range: 20 meters.

The north. The north. Always the north. Out of the north they came, riding the storm. The rough wool
cloth of their sails knew it. The rotting timbers of their clinkered hulls knew it. The marauders knew it
in their hot bones and salt-stained flesh. This was no natural tempest. A wretched squall that had
slammed the northmen from their bloody course and swept them south before gales serrated like their
weapons, and rain fell like pellets of frosted iron. A blessing from the north. From the Wastes. From the
Powers allowed to be.
Vargs, far from home. Like fire on the water, they lived for the basest expression of their miserable
existence. War wherever it could be found; women and the favours that could be ripped from them,
and the cruel laughter that could be drawn from their bellies in the face of calamities wrought. When
not engaged in such mordant pursuits, the northmen might have remembered to eat or sleep or attend
to their weapons, their vessels or the monstrous darkness to which they had pledged their lives. Their
names were made up of consonants that cut the mouth and their hearts were hollow and black. Some
bore the ghastly afflictions of their calling but most were ugly enough before being grizzled of limb,
scarred of flesh and ragged of beard. They cursed the elements and spat in the face of Manann, god of
the seas for his free passage. They honored their patron Powers with action. They honored them with
the wolfish howls they roared at the tumultuous skies, as their boats cut through the range of
mountainous waves before them and revealed the glint of torches and lanterns. The coast of some
victim nation. The darkened shore.
As the storm smashed them on, lightning seethed through the sky. The world was fit to break. The
furious flashes revealed a shale beach. On the shore sat a collection of beached fishing boats, rocking in
the storm. Beyond lay a fishing village. Innocent. Provocative. Vulnerable. The barbarians stood in
their dripping furs and spiked armor. They could already feel the spray of hot blood across their faces.
The screams and the begging that aroused them so, soothing the mind and ear. The ache of
omnipotence flooded their being. Hands stain-speckled with death reached for the tools of their trade
wicked blades, slender axes and spear shafts of saturated gore. They were the storm. The sudden and
sickening eruption of forces unknown upon the helpless and afeared. The stinking and smoking ruin
that their progress left in its path the northmens advertisement to the world. They were there. They
robbed. They ravaged. They murdered. And they lived. Archaon : Everchosen
What a civilized man is to one of the tribesmen of the Northern Wastes, a sheep is to a wolf. These
men endure tough, barren landscapes filled to the brim with terrible monsters, malevolent demons,
warlike rival tribes and other, nameless threats. To survive in such a lifestyle is going to breed an
exceptionally hardy man, for the weak quickly die. And, thanks to the closeness of the realms of
chaos, one extremely dedicated to the gods.
Of the so-called "Warriors of Chaos" the Chaos Marauders form the most common contingent, for in
war countless tribes flock together to raid. Natural born fighters all Chaos Marauders have raided
from Lustria to distant Cathay and are rightly feared across the world as a result. They are
incredibly hardy individuals, and in battle act with a natural savagery that surpasses any from the
"civilized realms. In fact in 1 vs. 1 combat a single Marauder can usually take on several of his
basic state trooper equivalent (of the Empire) in single combat.
Though capable of careful, strategic planning while raiding, in pitched battle these Northmen are
most known for rushing fearlessly towards enemy lines, often ignoring horrific causalities in
doing so. To the Marauder this makes sense, for retreat shames the warrior in the eyes of the gods
and their servants and what material punishment can be worse that eternal damnation? The big,
hulking champions that lead them further exemplify this characteristic by carrying many scars and
trophies taken from past conflicts. So dedicated to glory are they that they seek out any
champions to battle, and cannot refuse them in turn.
However the weakness with most Marauder tribes is, while individually each may be worth several
of the enemy, this does not necessarily translate into advantage in formation fighting. Lacking
room to swing their weapons, crowding up against one another, facing multiple weapon points at
once and unable to adapt to the Southerners disciplined walls marauders are often at a
disadvantage in these situations.
Marauder tribes are numerous and diverse, with countless variations to play. For example some
might run naked screaming emaciated into battle, while another is full of Were-kin, or another even
fights with pikes in the manner of the Cathayans. The profile above represents the average of the
Marauders as shown by Empire invasions.
. Under their eastern warlord, Fengshen Ku, the Hundun marauder clan belonged to the Dreaded Wo
tribe and were made up of mounted members of the respected sword clans and their retainers that
formed hordes of pike-wielding supporters. With their black, lacquered armor, pairs of curved long
swords and iron masks forged in expressions of horror and dismay Fengshen Ku and the sword clan
of the Dreaded Wo were a dark and determined force. Archaon had been told by Vayne that the
Hundun very much resembled the celestial warriors of the Dragon Kingdom, manning the empire-
spanning wall of the Great Bastian, which kept the marauders of Chaos at bay.- Archaon : Everchosen
== LOADOUT ==
Offensive: Hand Axes,

maces, swords and the
like can normally be
expected within their
arsenal. Sometimes they
can be seen with large
flails, great axes, throwing
spears, massive hammers
or two handed swords.
Lore wise a handful of
hunters accompany every
Warband, armed with
makeshift bows. Variants
from across the world
exist, such as pike
wielding Dreaded Wo or
the werekin of the plains.
Defensive: Usually they

just wear fur, but at times
they can equip large
wooden shields or leather
armor. Some are
disciplined enough to
form shield walls in case
of attack by superior
missiles.
==ADDITIONAL
FACTORS==
Once a warrior has proven himself, perhaps in some great quest or the slaying of a champion of a
rival deity, he may catch the eye of the Chaos Gods. Such a supplicant will transcend the struggles of
his peers to become a Chaos Warrior, the very embodiment of the merciless killer. His allegiance is
no longer to his tribe, but directly to the Ruinous Powers themselves.
Flayerkin are creatures created under the combined influence of the Realm of Chaos and the Skaven
of Clan Moulder. They are partially human, drawn from Northman stock before being subject to the
process that transforms them into Flayerkin. Metal masks cover their faces, hooks and iron claws
have been grafted onto their arms in place of hands, and heavy chains hang from a plate fused to
their backs.
In the armies of Chaos their purpose is to scale the walls of castles and fortified cities during
sieges, hauling their chains up for other besiegers to climb. Even a dead Flayerkin hanging from
a wall can be used as an organic siege ladder for the other members of his Warband. Additionally,
they can wield their sharp hooks with devastating power in combat.
Hundreds of human
figures leapt madly towards the walls, dragging behind them great lengths of chains fused to their
spines. An almighty barrage met them, and hundreds were cut down, pierced by bolt and shot.
Nevertheless, many more reached the walls and began clambering over the rotting corpses at their
base, scattering bloated carrion birds. Hurling themselves at the walls, these twisted parodies of men
began to claw their way up the sheer stone with the great hooks and claws growing from or grafted to
their limbs. Countless of their slain brethren still clung to the walls in death, covering the walls in a
mass of hanging chain - ready for the legions of Archaon to clamber up. Cannon balls ploughed
through the ranks of advancing warriors, but always there were more to step into these gaps.- Fall of
Erengard
Mobility: 4
Max Range: Short Bows- 400m, rarely

Longbows
Effective Range: 200 m (for hunters)
Before beginning this profile it must be stated the difference between the Norse Warhird and
regular Marauders, for indeed many Norsemen are part of the Marauding bands seen in Chaos. The
Marauders can be defined as large bands of warriors bound only by dreams of personal glory, the
Dark Gods and their mortal champions. The Norse Warhird indeed seeks all of those things and in
fact have followed Archaon in his crusade however they are also bound by oaths to the individual
tribes and their masters. Though the Warhird partakes in raids and even invasions often they are
a force with a permanent base while the Marauders are fiercely nomadic (mostly).
Starting at the bottom the Norse too are a faction that deploys a lot of slave troops known as
thralls. These thralls are treated callously by the bondsmen of the North, often used as human
sacrifice or sport. Given the chance to fight in battle is considered a release, even if they are given
the poorest of weapons. Other than the outcast hunters they are the only Norsemen given ranged
weapons for the Norsemen view such tools as cowardly. However they nevertheless fight with a
certain zeal, for the Norsemen will occasionally uplift a Thrall out of slavery if he/she fights well.
The majority of Norse fighters compose of warrior bondsemen, who live for combat and glory
in battle. With their belief that death in combat would result in a glorious afterlife they fight in huge
numbers against any who would dare fight the Norsemen. They are called Bondsmen because of
the oaths they swore to their jarls who in return provide them with thralls and a steady stream of
combat. These bondsmen are said to be equally at home fighting on land or sea.
Some of the poorer warriors choose to become bow-wielding hunters, while others are outcasts
used to living in the inhospitable wilds of Norsica. A few hone their craft well enough to train a
beast companion, bringing with them into battle a giant wolf, bear or some more horrible
creature. These hunters are looked down upon by the other Norsemen but considered a useful
element. During campaign they are used as both scouts and minor ranged support. If there are
enough of them they are capable of laying ambushes.
While women can be seen frequently in any such unit division, shield maidens seem to be
exclusively female. These are disciplined warriors, who while lacking in strength of their male
counterparts make up for it in tactics, marching into battle in great shield walls. Meanwhile
Huskarls are elite warriors of the Jarls, heavily armored and much like the real world Viking
Huskarls. They often guard their kings and have the pick of the best loot.
Finally the legendary Ulfskald are crazed beserkers who march into battle armored only with a
loincloth and sometimes a shield, but are given viscious weapons and drugs that drive him to such
levels of combat frenzy and bloodlust that makes even Orks look tame by comparison (Knights of
the Blazing Sun) . These warriors are so bloodthirsty they are described as foaming in the mouth,
incapable of any coherent thought, but in return for incredible pain resistance and immunity
to fear. While they might die later, these immunity allows them to continue fighting on even
survive blows that would kill other men, such as being shot full of arrows, great falls and even
disembowelment. In Wulfrik, one deliberately impaled himself upon a lance in order to kill his
enemy.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Thrall- Javelin, Slings, sometimes bows . May be given some cheap and shoddy spears for
melee combat.
Warrior Bondsmen: A Fairly diverse arsenal. They can come equipped with swords, axes, spears
or two handers for melee, and occasionally throwing axes or spears for ranged.
Norse Hunter: Bow and a hand weapon
Ulfskald (Beserkers) Sometimes hand weapons. Other times spears, double handers or even their
own tooth and claws if driven into a real fury.
Shield Maidens : Usually spears but sometimes swords. They are not adverse to using bows.
Huscarl : Swords, axes and the like. Might sometimes come into battle with spears or double
handed maces.
Defensive: Thrall- Sometimes light shields, usually nothing
Warrior Bondsmen: Shields and occasionally some form of leather armor.
Norse Hunter : Light leather armor, if anything
Ulfskald: Usually nothing. Sometimes may have the sense to wear ligjht leather armor or come with
a shield.
Shield Maidens: Round shields in semi-formation in the manner of a hoplite formation.
Huscarl: Shields and likely decent quality armor such as chain mail.
==ADDITIONAL FACTORS==
Profile for Norsemen taken from WD 107, WFRP Tome of Chaos and Citadel Journal 06-8 with
Norse Dwarfs not added as there is no current record of the latter fighting alongside Chaos.
He saw a massive, near naked savage with three arrows protruding from his tattooed flesh take a
sword thrust to the chest as he scrambled over the battlements, but even that didn't stop him. With
foam spilling from his mouth, he hacked the head from a knight's shoulders, sending it flying down to
the ground inside the castle walls, far below.- Knight of the Realm
Mobility: 4
Max & Effective Range: Melee
Chaos Warriors are living weapons, beings whose skin has fused with the armor they wear.
Capable of trudging hundreds of miles without stop, existing without food, sleep or water, and with
monstrous strength and ferocity Chaos Warriors are popularly considered to be Fantasys Space
Marines (Prior to Age of Sigmar).
Every member of a marauder tribe is a fighter, yet among every tribe there are a few who stand out
above the rest. At a certain point in time a Chaos marauder might be offered a suit of chaos armor
as a reward of their service. Such armor, though incredibly durable, comes at a terrible cost for in
donning this armor even once ensures that it can never, ever be taken off. The pleasures and needs
of the flesh from sleep, eating, drinking, and other comforts are now foreign to him. Only the need
to spill blood and the vague, hopeless promises of daemonhood keep them going. Many of
these warriors wander aimlessly until they meet another person or monster, in which their spirit
returns briefly and they quickly engage in battle.
A Chaos Warrior is a confident match of several of his contemporaries at once in non-formation
fighting, with some depictions showing one to be equal to eight or more. Though they do lose
some of their effectiveness in formation fighting a Chaos Warrior nevertheless is a hardy foe even
there, for his armor is formidable. As the only true solace of this warrior is the fulfillment of
slaughter, naturally the call of Archaeon to war on the decadent southern kingdoms has been
answered by these warriors wholeheartedly. Whole Legions have arisen to destroy the civilized
world once and for all.
Should he continue to excel in the pursuit of his patron gods' mysterious and terrible agendas, he
may be fortunate enough to become one of the Chosen those Chaos Warriors whose bodies
ripple and swell with power or coruscate with raw magic. The Chosen form warrior bands of the
truly favored, cutting down the foe with contemptuous
sweeps of their heavy, ornate blades.
Alternatively a Chaos Warrior may go on to fight on

horseback as a Knight of Chaos, whose charge can break a
battleline with ease. More likely he will meet his fate as one
of the corpses strewn upon the battlefield, for few survive
long enough to earn such high favor.
A warrior who proves strong enough to excel in the barbaric

world of the north may find himself changing still further.
From his body hatch new and deadly mutations, from
multicoloured skin to vorpal claws and snapping tentacles,
from wreaths of living flame to extra eyes that peer into the
souls of men. The strongest of these favored ones go on to
become Champions of Chaos, towering warrior-princes who never tire or weaken, relentless in
their quest to hunt down and destroy the heroes of those armies that oppose them. Very
occasionally these mighty champions might become Chaos Lords and, even more rarely, a daemon
prince.
Braced though it
was, the Empire
square almost
crumpled beneath
that charges sheer
brute force. Spears
shattered as they hit
daemon-forged
armour, Nuln-
wrought swords
wasted their force on
shields or thick-
furred cloaks. In
return, the axes and
maces of the
northlanders cut
deep into flesh,
battered aside sword
and shield to hack
and pulp the flesh
beyond. Most of the
Chaos warriors
fought with little
thought to their own
defence, casting
aside their shields to
bring a second blade
to bear, or even to
strike the foe with a
mighty, gauntleted
fist. They were disdainful of the weak men of the south, and little wonder, for it took two such men to
hold a single northlander at bay, and at least one other to have any chance of slaying the brute.-
Archaon: End Times
== LOADOUT ==
Offensive: Hand Axes, maces, swords and the like can normally be expected within their
arsenal. Sometimes they can be seen with large flails, great axes, massive hammers, two handed
swords, or halberds. They are considered physically stronger than normal humans.
Defensive: Crafted by the master forgers of the Dawi Zhar or alternately gifted by daemons, the
Chaos Dwarves bind a tiny piece of Chaos to the steel plate. Chaos Armor actively shapes itself
based on the wielder's inner corruption, and incorporates mutations, gifts and alignment (of the
gods). Such armor is described as capable of shrugging off arrows, bolts and other mundane
projectiles while fending off spears and certain swords, though heavier weapons like zweihandlers
and guns can penetrate. This armor will automatically repair itself after battle, does not
encumber the wielder (described as a second skin) and cannot be removed so long as the
mortal is alive. Some Chaos Warriors also come with shields.
Thus far, the arrows of the Elves had only felled two of the heavily-armoured warriors stoically
advancing towards the spear company that held the Elven battleline. Moments later, another of the
Chaos brutes collapsed, a shaft protruding from his helms eye socket. Eldaria immediately recognised
the ashen cloaks of Nagarythi shadow warriors. They had taken up position in the copse of trees to her
left and had begun to send forth a hail of silverwood arrows. She led her knights in a wide arc to come
upon the Chaos warriors from behind, noticing with fierce pride that her fellow Reavers had
regrouped and were sweeping around the right flank to surround their foes with a keen, predatory
instinct. Eldarias Reavers continued to assail the Chaos warriors at range until they had emptied their
quivers. Their rearward position ensured that their arrows met with much greater success by virtue of
circumnavigating the huge tower shields that protected their targets to the front. Only half of the
Elves deadly adversaries now remained, and even their indomitable courage was starting to wane.
The time to strike was at hand. Standing up in her stirrups, Eldaria drew her elegant ithilmar
longsword and raised its high for all of her fellow Elves to see. Whispering a silent prayer to Asuryan,
she swept her blade down to signal the charge. As one, both companies of Reaver knights charged,
hitting the Chaos warriors from the flank and rear, even as the spear company advanced to engage
them directly.
A bloody melee soon broke out as the wave of Elves crashed into the black-armoured wall of Chaos
warriors. The spears of the Reavers, finely-crafted tips powered by the swiftness of their steeds and the
angle of their attack, took a heavy toll as they punched through exposed joints in the armour of their
targets. Yet despite the momentum of their attack, the Elves were soon hard-pressed. Every Chaos
warrior was a purebred killer, his strength and capacity for slaughter augmented beyond mortal ken
by the unholy blessings of the Dark Gods. Against these relentless slayers, the Elves were little match.
Within moments, a dozen brave Asur had been carved to bloody ruin, their elegant scale mail scant
protection against the terrible power of the Chaos warriors. Warhammer Vanguard Clash
Mobility: 5
Once upon a time proud Chaos

Warriors, Forsaken know the
fickleness of chaos better than
any- or would in the rare moments
they can see past the animalistic
haze that dominates their mind.
The Forsaken have been gifted
by Chaos so many times that there
is little left of the individual, only a
bestial husk in plate armor. It is
enough that the other, saner
Warriors of Chaos can goad them
into battle, usually only doing so
with sacrifices and appealing to
the Forsakens vague memories of
glory and conquest to get these
warriors to follow the Warhost.
A Forsaken is a random collection

of mutations that is often just one
such away from turning into a Chaos Spawn .Already these warriors manifest tentacles, extra limbs
or heads, claw hands, warped feet, fang-like mouths and more. Sometimes they have mutations that
show which god they once worshipped and other times they do have purely negative ones, such as
mutations that turn much of their brains to mush, hampering their ability to operate effectively on
the battlefield.
In battle Forsaken display no tactical acumen, and immediately upon taking sight of the enemy
charge. Weapons are disdained as the Forsaken uses only its hideous mutations to rip the enemy
apart. In this way they are little better than the Chaos Warhounds that surround the encampment
and are utterly immune to fear.
A Darksoul is a rare type of individual, sometimes created deliberately through ritual, that was
possessed by a daemon, had much of their soul/mind consumed and then had the daemon forcibly
driven out via magic before it could finish off its meal. These mortals are rendered completely
insane and coursing with daemonic power and mutations.
== LOADOUT ==
Offensive: Forsaken use their own bodies in combat, relying on poisonous fangs, lashing
tentacles, razor talons and terrible claws. They are also stronger than normal humans, able to
physically rip one into pieces.
Darksouls are crazed individuals with a number of random mutations and extreme stats such as
strength, courtesy of daemonic empowerment.
Defensive: See Chaos warrior, though decayed and mutated. Sometimes the Forsaken will be
mutated to possess regeneration.
Forsaken are blessed with enhanced versions of the Marks of Chaos. Those of Khorne possess
hatred towards all things, Tzeentch heavy magic resistance, Nurgles Forsaken are so mutated that
they can invoke fear in their foes and those of Slaanesh are far more agile then other Forsaken. Such
is the silver lining of the position.
Mobility: 3
Training/Experience: 1-3 ; 4-5 (Black Orcs)
Max Range: Short Bow (100 meters)
Effective & Preferred Range: Melee
The Chaos dwarfs keep many Orc and Goblin

tribes enslaved in their dark workshops and
mines. Their innate Greenskins tenacity and
desire to fight absolutely everything make them ideal warriors to let utilize in battle, though each
has a different specialty. Orcs, being physically stronger, taller and tougher than humans, along
with their incredible ability to ignore a great deal of pain, are ideal in slogging through frontline
ranks. Goblins, being scrawny and half the size of a man, but cunning and incredibly numerous,
specialize in sneaking in and stabbing the enemy in the back.
Included within this is an occasional and rare unit of Black Orcs. These orcs, originally created and
altered by the Chaos Dwarfs, are far more disciplined, larger, organized and malevolent than
regular Chaos Dwarfs. When not fighting the enemy, they actually take time to train, repair their
weapons, and discuss strategies for the next battle.
Chaos Dwarfs use both Orcs & Goblins as arrow fodder. If massed units of hobgoblins are around
the regular orcs and goblin units will be used as arrow fodder of the
arrow fodder, viciously sent into battle to soak up ranged fire and
hopefully weaken enemy lines. The exception are the highly trained
Black Orcs who would serve as a quasi-elite force, though the Dawi
Zharr would still take care to ensure that these orcs perish.
There are several difficulties in using Orcs & Goblins in battle. They are
subject to animosity- infighting- which is helped somewhat by a
hobgoblin overseer commanding each of their units (save that of the
intimidating Black Orcs) however Hobgoblins are so hated by the rest
of the greenskins that sometimes they will be caught and killed. Goblins
are have an irrational fear of Elves. And Black Orcs? Though being of
almost perfect discipline they are the least trusted by their masters, for
it was the Black Orcs who nearly toppled Zharr Naggrund so many
millennia ago. Given the chance they would do so again, for alone of the
greenskins they are not fully cowed by their masters.
Offensive; Orcs and Black Orcs use giant axes known as choppas, swords and bludgeoning
weapons. Black Orcs might have halberds or some form of two handed weapon. Goblins use knives
and sometimes shortbows.
Defensive: Light armor and shields, if they are lucky. The Black Orcs might have heavy plate. All
Orcs have tough skin akin to hide leather, with the older orcs having grown srong enough to where
many sword blows will be turned around by skin alone. They also have superhuman durability and
a orc can lose its limbs only to be reattached later.
==ADDITINOAL FACTORS==
Rarely, whole tribes might be enslaved by the Chaos Dwarfs or join Chaos willingly. See the non-
heroic units of this profile for some base information if you are interested.
Mobility: 4
Max Range: 400 m
Effective Range: 240m
Preferred Range: Right behind you! Or at bow range

Among a people that normally is given to infighting (Orcs and Goblins) the Hobgoblin are so
despised and hated that without the Chaos Dwarves, who they rescued by backstabbing a black orc
rebellion long ago, they would have been completely wiped out by their own greenskin kind. The
Hobgoblin is infamous for their distrustful nature, greed and most of all backstabbing. They have
actually evolved, over the years, hardened shoulder blades from natural selection after so
many generations of being stabbed in the back. In fact they are so untrustworthy that the
reason their lot in life hasn't improved is because they can't trust each other to form a coherent
rebellion! Though they despise them, the Chaos Dwarfs find them useful and allow these creatures
to exist as overseers and expendable troops. The Dawi Zharr have no qualms firing artillery into
formations that the Hobgoblins are engaged in, so long as the enemy is also killed.
The Chaos Dwarfs utilize the Hobgoblins as fodder in battle. The teeming mass of these
treacherous greenskins are given whatever they can scrounge up in terms of looted weapons,
invariably of significantly lesser quality then what their masters wear, and sent on the field to die
and hopefully take out a few enemies beforehand. Hobgoblin archers pepper enemy lines with
arrows or try to as their fire is a bit inaccurate. Hobgoblins armed with knives, daggers, long blades
and other assorted weaponry- for this treacherous race is known appropriately to favor weapons it
can stab people in the back with- run into melee combat.
One specific tribe known as the Sneaky Gits, a group of hobgoblins untrustworthy even by the
standards of their own kind, has actually evolved a formation to this effect. Essentially the first few
ranks will engage the enemy at the front while the rest try to encircle to the flanks and rear, in
order to fulfill the Hobgoblin's innate desire to shank someone in the back. This tribe has become so
successful that they have become rich and virtually the entire tribe now is armed with poisoned
daggers.
Hobgoblins have low discipline and morale. They are renowned for their infighting on the field..
Whole units of Hobgoblins can become temporarily uncontrollable when it suddenly flees to
the rear, or else breaks out in infighting right there on the battlefield!
== LOADOUT ==
Offense: At range a portion of

Hobgoblins would be given bows to fire
off periodic volleys to pepper the enemy
lines. The others are given hand weapons
with an emphasis on daggers, cleavers,
and other such wicked blades. Many
daggers are carried on their person,
allowing some to be thrown before
charging in. The Sneaky Gits tribe wields
poisoned daggers.
Should they reach melee they can put up a

fight against enemies, for such is their life
style that they have some innate combat skill. As per their nature they will still try to find creative
ways of stabbing their enemies in the back.
Defenses: They have whatever light scrap metal they can find as armor. Some have managed to loot
shields.
Oi! Deys not propa Greenskins atol are dey? Deys an alright shade o green Ill grant and deys shifty
enuff fer gobos, but dats all dats right about em. Dey use poison! Poison! Like one o dem stinkn
Ratmen! Da miserable gits sneak about and always go in fer two quick shivs in da dark. Never a propa
scrap has ever come from dem Hobs, Ill warrant. Dey play at being stuntie lackeys and dey cheat at
dice. Still, deys handy fer soaking up arrers when no others are round. Warboss Clangor Gorespiller
Mobility: 3
Max Range: 50m

(Blunderbus)
Preferred Range: Neutral
Though far rarer than

their hobgoblin slaves,
when the Chaos Dwarves
or Dawi Zhar come to the field they make an undeniable presencet. On the base level their warriors
are going to be incredibly potent fighters, with decades of experience and equal time spent
training. Matching their martial skill is their innate desire to crush anything that would dare lift a
finger or voice in protest of Chaos Dwarf ascendancy. As Chaos Dwarf hierarchy is determined by
both success on the field and amount of slaves that can be acquired after, they fight not only
with a sadist's glee at the death of lesser races, but their own innate obsessive greed for power and
advancement.
The personality effects of Chaos Dwarves have tangible effects on the battlefield. They are scornful
of any attempts to stop them, and will march on even under withering fire. Such is the contempt
they possess for other races, that when their allied units start routing the Dawi Zhar usually just
snort and continue to fight on. Only the rout of a fellow Chaos Dwarf unit affects them. Even then
the stubborn traits of the Dwarves shows, for Chaos Dwarves are always extremely reluctant to
abandon their positions.
From the older armybooks it is clear some Chaos Dwarves make use of crossbowmen and
beserker type units. The former would probably not be extremely common in recent days given
the Chaos Dwarf emphasis on technological development (which, unlike their Western cousins, they
do not detest), while the latter can still be seen, albeit rarely, even today.
== LOADOUT ==
Offense: Blunderbusses and heavy axes. According to the first Chaos Dwarf codex, some Dwarves
make entire units of blunderbuss lines . Recently the Legion of Azgorh have introduced Hailfire
Blunderbusses, which are better at armor piercing and covers even wider areas in shrapnel.
A few might still have crossbows while the battle-crazed beserkers would usually wear handaxes.
Defenses: The Chaos Dwarfs either wear heavy plate armor or some form of flexible scale mailand
some have shields. The battle-crazed berserkers would wear no armor much in the style of the
Dwarven slayer.
Mobility: 3
Max Range: 300m
When a regular Dwarf in Warhammer

Fantasy endures what he considers to
be a great shame (which can be
anything from a serious condition of
fleeing in battle to something absurd
like getting a bit too drunk), he shaves
his hair, rips off his shift, and swears an
oath of glorious death in battle.
Flamboyant, out-spoken and fearless,
the Dwarf slayer immediately stands
out amongst his race both in presence
and personality.
When a Chaos Dwarf gets shamed, which can occur quite frequently in this pitiless society, he is
covered in terrible blackshard armor along with a gruesome red hot iron and bronze mask. All
names, titles and kinships are stripped way. The Chaos Dwarf is made to take an oath of silence,
never to speak until death or the nullification of his oath by his master (for this is possible in
Dawi Zharr society, unlike with their Western cousins). Nameless, faceless and voiceless, the
Infernal Guard carries with them an aura of gruesome anonymity.
The Infernal Guard are sent to ceaselessly battle the many enemies of the Chaos Dwarves, a
death in battle the fully expected outcome for their lives. They are almost fearless, willing to
stand up to certain death in a Chaos Mammoth charge then retreat. Led by their brutal Castillian
drill masters, they are unquestionably loyal to the Legion of Azgorth and will obey its lord without
hesitation. However they do have some hope, for if they are particularly valorous in battle they may
remove their helmets, being redeemed through combat. They might also get promoted to a position
of the esteemed Infernal Ironsworn who are the elite swordsmen bodyguards of the
Daemonsmiths/Sorcerors.
The Immortal Guard of the High Prophet of Hashtut (who would serve Astragoth)is another such
elite unit, described in Grudgebearer. A rather self-explanatory introduction is then posted in the
same book about them.
Their armor was painted black, and they wore heavy steel from head to toe. Their curled, piled beards
were protected by long sheaths of metal, and parts of their armor were reinforced with solid plates of
marble and granite. In their hands they carried large-bladed axes, curved and deadly. Handgun fire
and crossbow quarrels rattled off their armor, leaving only a few of them dead, the others quickly
filling the holes in their formation.
Gyrocopters buzzed in on attack runs, firing hails of bullets from rapid-firing, steam powered gatlers,
while pilots threw makeshift bombs from their seats. Steam cannons venting scalding vapors killed
several of the Immortals, but they were undeterred, never once breaking stride, their bull-headed gold
standard leading the advance, a great drum made from some monstrous skull calling the step.
Barundin sent word for the Ironbreakers to intercept the Immortals, and soon his own heavily
armored warriors were marching down to the valley floor, heading directly for their despicable foes.
Like two great metal beasts butting each other, the two formations met, the enchanted gromril of the
Ironbreakers matched against the cursed blades of the Immortals.
== LOADOUT ==
Offense: They can come equipped with Hailshot blunderbusses and axes, sometimes powerful
two-handed, as well as the Fireglaive. The Fireglaive is a repeating handgun that is crafted into
the shape of a halberd, allowing it to function both as a ranged and melee weapon. As they are
complex weapons to make usually only the elite Chaos Dwarves, such as the Infernal Guard, has
them.
The Infernal Ironsworn can wield enscrolled weaponry, which basically means their weapons are
enchanted with the fire of the Dawi forges and the suffering of the victims killed during the
creation(it can also hit ethereal creatures). The Mighty infernal Castillian who leads this force
might have a magical weapon or two (see Daemonsmith) as
well as possibility of napatha grenades
The immortals may use any of this but were primarily

described as wielding cursed axes.
Gotrek started for Khorreg, a menacing glint in his eye, when a

third form interposed itself. It was another Chaos dwarf, but
this one was clad in black plate and a featureless helm. The
Chaos dwarf held an axe almost as malevolent-looking as
Gotrek's own and the eagerness of the newcomer's movement
mirrored Gotrek's. 'Khul Ironsworn, Captain of the Infernal
Guard, dishonored and disgraced, you will win the right to
remove your mask if you bring me this dwarf's skull,' Khorreg
bellowed. 'Kill him! Kill them! Kill all of them!'
Khul lunged and Gotrek met him, their axes striking sparks off one another. Felix could only stare in
awe as, for the first time, the Slayer seemed to have found an opponent who matched Gotrek's
incandescent rage and lust for battle. Khul made no sound as he swung and hacked at the Slayer, and
neither did Gotrek. For long moments, there was only the sound of the axes screeching against one
another and the slap of the duellists' feet against the stone. Gotrek and Felix, Road of Skulls
Defenses: The Infernal wears blackshard armor, which is ornately crafted plate armor that is
far stronger than normal steel. This armor is almost totally resistant to fire or heat attacks.
Those without two handed weapons can also carry shields. The Castillian might have something
magical.
The Immortals wear armor made of solid plates of marble and granite, which stops rather mundane
bullets and arrows and requires heavy missile fire or heavy weapons to bring down. In Wulfrik the
titular character was totally unable to penetrate their armor with any weapons on hand (and
Wulfrik is superhuman) and had to resort to tripping them, with the granite armor making it hard
for the Dwarfs to get back up. Then he repeatedly beat on their face masks with the pommels of his
swords, causing pain but not penetrating. Others he pushed over cliffs.
DAEMONIC EXPERIENCE: In
regards to Daemonic
experience, with the exception
of named characters, the value
is going to always be
variable. This is in part
because of the nature of the
realm of Chaoss looping
timeline, meaning that a
daemon could be fighting in
these battle moments after
creation or after thousands
of years of constant fighting.
So with the exception of some
named and greater daemons, I
will refrain from giving exact
experience. It might be as low
as 3-4, it might be as high as 10.
That said, they are generally
more innately skilled and
experienced than their mortal
counterparts
Mobility: 5
Training/Experience: Variable (Likely High)
The lowest levels of Khorne's terrible minions are occupied by the ferocious Bloodletters, who are
believed to have been some of the greatest of the War Gods mortal champions in life. Skillful
enough are they that, upon death, they were taken by the Blood God to wage unending war in his
name. According to Liber Chaotica they are the embodiment of the savagery of battle; being
sadistic, cruel, ferocious and vile, with no dirty trick unknown to them.
Any moment spent not killing enemies is a waste for them. There is no subtlety to violence
incarnate. So eager are they to spill blood that left to their own devices in battle they will happily
charge without care for safety at all the while chanting out the names of those who they have
already slain (sometimes, an enemy soldier might recognize a name). If allies get in the way
bloodletters are not hesitant (actually they are eager) to tear through said allies to get to the
enemy. After all to the minions of Khorne it matters not from where the blood flows, so long as it
flows.
Bloodletters are very strong physically, at least strong enough to throw a grown man a dozen
yards .In addition to their superhuman strength and teeth, the Bloodletter carries the Hellbalde, a
magical weapon enchanted to attack the soul. Assuming it gets past the armor even the most
powerful hero is in dire risk of turning into a shriveled corpse as
his or her soul is sucked out. The Hellblade is part of the
Bloodletters very essence and for that reason can never be
disarmed or dropped.
== LOADOUT ==
Offense: Hellblade.
Defenses: Some few

might be portrayed as
having brass melted
to their bodies,
however most must
rely on their
exceptionally tough
hardened skin. They
also have light magic
resistance.
Mobility: 4
Training/Experience: Variable
Max Range: Unknown, several hundred meters
Effective Range: 240 meters.
Preferred Range: Spellcasting range
The basic daemon of Tzeentch is the heavily

unpredictable and deadly Pink Horror. Described as
usually cackling with incoherent glee, Pink Horrors
mood is as random as their creator. They may become
lucid after a time, scream with rage or become completely
motionless for little discernable cause. According to Liber Chaotica
both Pink and Blue Horrors are the embodiment of all that is mad
and contrary, of a mortal's freedom to choose to do the illogical
and irrational.
In stature Pink Horrors are roughly half a mans height. . As fitting a

chaotic daemon of the Lord of Change It is thanks to this love of
magic that, alone of the basic daemonic foot soldiers, they are able
to cast magical spells. Even the basic single Pink Horror can cast
small bursts of terrible warp fire. In older lore some could even
combine their magics together to utilize minor spells of the
Tzeentch.
Perhaps most devastatingly the

battle isn't always over if a Pink
Horror is slain. Should they be
killed in close combat the Pink
Horror will split into two
smaller Blue Horrors. Other than
the color change these creatures
are much more malevolent and
viscous then what they came from,
and are described as having an
innate desire to squeeze the life out of whatever is near them. Only when these two creatures are
killed is the threat ended.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: By themselves Pink Horrors can cast small gouts of Eldritch fire to scorch whatever foe
is ahead of him. When massed together Pink Horrors are minor wizards, able to know a single spell
from Tzeenth's listing, most likely one of the lowest. In close combat they attack with both claws
and supernatural strength to squeeze and choke.
Defense: Their skin, described as tough and leatherly

Mobility: 3 (fastest pace can be
described as a slow jog).
Max Range: ??? (Disease)
Plaguebeaerers, like bloodletters, are

drawn from mortal champions who, in
life, contracted and fell to the soul-
rending Nurgle's rot. Now in death they
serve that which they struggled with so
much in life, in a state of perpetual
decay. Innumerable sores cover their
body, pus weeps from a single bloodshot
eye, and a single tentacle horn, a mark of
Nurgle, protrudes from their foreheads. Their bellies are extended beyond a length that would seem
possible, and indeed they might even spill out in combat, spreading putrid entrails
everywhere. Putrid flies surround them that, when in combat, have an annoying tendency to fly
in the open mouths or eyes of their opponents, crawl up nostrils or clog ears. Even if all of that
is covered they will still try to bite and sting where they can.
Vile lesser daemons of Nurgle, these daemons are often assigned to count the number of plagues
used, herd other minions of Nurgle into battle, allocate fates to victims and generally try to instill
order on something inherently chaotic. The order is inherently impossible of course, but that does
not dissuade the so-called "Nurgle's Tallymen" in the slightest. They have a genuine love of afflicting
the enemy and do so with the greatest glee, for in their eyes they are "gifting" them. This is
representative of a mortals desire to rationalize and assign meaning to suffering, to create internal
justifications to justify avoiding change that might turn the condition. Another theory holds that
Plaguebearers are the personification of the moment of lingering death.
In addition to a tactical threat, the Plaguebeaerer is covered with diseases of various kinds that
even fighting against it is likely to cause plagues in the long run. What diseases they are varies
highly of course, but some of them are highly contagious and could decimate the enemy if left
unchecked. This spread is aided somewhat by the tendency, in some texts, for Plaguebearers to
deliberately vomit on their foes in a disgusting mixture of pus, maggots and even entrails.
"The thing that emerged dripped with pale-red birthing fluid but its flesh was a dank, warty green. It
was roughly humanoid in shape but its head was thrust forwards on a neck that emerged from its
chest. Its face was thuggish and slack-jawed. It had one yellow eye and a single horn in its forehead. Its
arms were overlong and its hands dragged on the floor as it forced its way upright, and its belly
sagged down, full of its own young of seething insects that spilled from rents in the flesh." Van
Horstmann
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Plaguebearers are armed with the plague sword, a vile weapon whose touch ultimately
brings disease. However no two plague swords are alike, and their affliction is kind of random
ranging from relatively harmless cold to soul-rending Nurgle's rot. A few in older stories and
codexes could vomit forth a grotesque stream spew of entrails, maggots and filth on the enemy.
Defense: Other than being surrounded by flies making them somewhat more difficult to hit,
Plaguebeaers are rather durable and heavily resistant to pain courtesy of all the painful diseases
festering on their body. If the opponent was using a normal non-magical weapon, it would usually
take dismemberment to put them down.
Taking advantage of this, the greatswords loyal to Gruber pushed forwards, their blades smashing
knights from their terrified steeds. A glancing blow knocked one of the men from his saddle, and he fell
heavily to the ground. As he struggled to his knees, a five-foot-long blade swept into his neck, cleaving
through his ornate plate armour and his spine.
Stefan lashed downwards, splitting the skull of another greatsword, his horse bucking beneath him.
His ears were filled with a buzzing drone, and a black cloud of insects suddenly descended on the
combatants, crawling into eyes, ears and noses. They crawled through the visor slits of the
Reiklandguard, buzzing and biting, and several of the knights struggled to rip the helms from their
heads. They crawled down the inside of plate armour, painfully biting the flesh beneath. They swarmed
over the eyes of the horses, stinging and biting. The greatswords were also assailed by the plague, and
they swatted frantically at the insects as they crawled over them.
The captain spat half a dozen buzzing insects from his mouth, his stomach heaving, and raised his
blade to cut down another of the greatswords that stood between him and the elector count. He
paused, holding his blow as he saw that the man was desperately scratching bugs out of his eyes and
swatting at the creatures crawling down his neck, the battle forgotten. Stefan could not strike down a
man in this way, but he did not need to. A blade punched through the chest of the man, driven through
him from behind with brutal force. The man was lifted into the air before being hurled to the ground.
He lifted his face to the heavens, crying out in pain. Stefan saw the man's face begin to rot before his
eyes. He was still alive as his flesh turned gangrenous and black, and his eyes turned milky-white, filled
with cataracts. In seconds, the man's skin atrophied and shrivelled, and he fell to the ground, dead.
A daemon stood behind the body, grinning insanely with its lipless mouth. It opened its mouth wide,
exposing crawling things within, and stepped heavily towards Stefan, hefting its filth encrusted
weapon.- Example of Plaguebearer flies
Mobility:6
Twas there, in that strange garden,

that I beheld the trust beauteous of
creatures. Their voices were
intoxicating, their touch bliss. They
begged me to hide with them, that
together we might stave off the
tedium of existence. Yet though my
body yearned to remain, my soul saw
plainly the snare set for it. I hardened my heart to their piteous pleas and fled, the joy of my escape
matched only by a sorrow 1 could not explain. Daemon codex pg 50
The most numerous of all of Slaanesh's servants, the Daemonettes of Slaanesh aptly illustrate the
nature of their lord and his lure. On the outside they put on a mystical glamour that bestows
their perverse features a terrible beauty. However if you are strong enough to see past this aura
these creatures are as physically repulsive as they come, and utterly malevolent. Those who are
unable to resist are doomed to be despoiled, used and then dropped at the whims of the creature.
Daemonettes represent both beauty and the ugly side of seduction, the ugly perversion of the
most debauched lusts.
"Come to me! Come to me! You know what it is that you have always desired. All your life has been a
desperate dream of me....awaken! Awaken, and come to me, for your reward awaits in my arms...."
-pg 20, Old World Bestiary
The true form of a daemonette does resemble a human woman, but an extremely mutated one. For
whatever unfathomable whim Slaanesh has these daemonettes have avian like feet, short stubbed
tale, crab-like talons, and giant bulging years. They are very pale, though can come painted in
whatever forms the Daemonette desires.
As pleasure seekers, Daemonettes arrive on the battlefield automatically with the intent to inflict
sadistic pain. With speeds beyond any mortal sprinter Daemonetters dash into melee combat,
dancing from foe to foe to gruesomely cut him or her open with their claw hands. Their skill in
arms has been likened to well-done choreography, each movement made with sublime skill
rather than the brute strength of their bloodletter rivals.
The more pain and torture they inflict, the more the Daemonette is invigorated by the sensation.
Indeed it is said that Daemonettes are the personification of Slaaneshs selfish passion and all-
consuming lust, for these daemons are never satisfied. And after the battle is done the Daemonettes
stride among the fallen to take their souls to the realm of the Dark Prince. To those few who made
pacts with Slaanesh and significantly impressed him, a life of a daemon prince and unparalleled
debauchery awaits. To those who did not, an unending hell.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Claw hands. Though not ignoring the best armor outright, such is the skill of the
dexterous daemonette that they are quite good at bypassing it and rendering limb from limb.
Daemonette reaction speed is on par with Elves, who are usually perceived as unnaturally speedy
by humans.
Defensive: The
Daemonette's main lore
defense is the subtle
aura of attraction.
Sometimes seeing a
group of mystically
beautiful women
running down the field
can lead to brief, but
fatal distractions. Those
with hardened hearts,
steely discipline, great
mental strength or
simple prior knowledge
can be effective in
bypassing the allure
however. Still she is lithe
enough that sometimes
she can be difficult to hit
regardless.
==Additional Factors==
Based on Liber Chaotica and shown in Sigvald, it seems that Daemonettes are mostly female
because men think about sex and have depraved thoughts "ten thousand" times more than females,
and thus while male daemonettes apparently do exist, the vast majority of them are female. In
Sigvald a marauder group met with a couple daemonettes and was quickly beguiled, all save the one
woman in the group. In the Blackheart Omnibus a Slaaneshi sorceress using the same type of
beguilement succeeded in putting all the men in the room under a spell, but was killed by the one
other woman there.
Mobility:2-3
Training/Experience: 0-1 (most) , 5-6
In many ways Chaos is the antithesis of the Undead. Chaos is life and vibrancy, the dead are cold
and static. Chaos preys upon emotion which the dead have little of. These traits are one of the
reasons why the Undead were counted as among the greatest opponents of Chaos during the End
Times. However what Chaos cannot corrupt easily they nevertheless love to utilize as tools and
assets. In the End Times, for example, Chaos sorcerers assailed with great numbers of undead,
draining the defenders. In the Malus Darkblade Chronicles the main sorceress Nagaira resurrected
the enemy dead behind Druichi lines and then assaulted the front with Chaos troops, pinning them.
Once a soul is cosigned to Chaos a mortals fate is bound to Chaos and, for the most part, this means
being consumed in the sea of souls upon death. However, in olden lore, Chaos could still make use
of the body and what fragments of the soul remain within it upon death. Though this aspect of
Chaos has been toned down significantly one Chaos god is, nevertheless, known to continue to
make use of the undead for his own nefarious means.
The Plague God Nurgle is a deity who is willing to use any means, any vector to spread the plague.
Plague zombies are just another tool in his arsenal and a sometimes enjoyable one at that, for the
fear and despair that comes when a mortal must strike down his own afflicted family member is
succulent indeed. These plague zombies carry all sorts of nasty, infectious diseases. Sometimes they
are joined by plague skeletons too, for it is said in olden lore that a sorcerer of Nurgle can claim (via
magical spell) a corpse in such a way for up to a year and one day after death.
Of course there is also a great deal of conventional undead in Chaoss forces, for in addition to the
various sorcerer ability to raise the undead there are several notable and powerful necromantic
defectors to Chaos in the Chaos leadership. They typically can raise great hordes of non-Nurgle
zombies and skeletons in the thousands or even (for the greatest) tens of thousands, provided there
are enough bodies. Lesser necromancers generally can field undead in the dozens to hundreds.
Other than these basic types there are many other variants of more powerful undead necromancers
can field, though most would be unavailable to any but the most powerful of sorcerors. See Undead
Legion for more details.
Offensive: Rusted blades and blunt objects. Plague zombies or skeletons usually carry many of
infectious diseases on their person.
Defensive: Shields and inhuman durability.
===ADDITINOAL FACTORS==
These units will actually be pretty rare, as Chaos do not focus on the undead that much. For the
most part it will be limited to a few experimenting chaos sorcerors and prominent necromantic
defectors.
Mobility:2-3
Training/Experience: 0-1 (most) 5-6
Max Range: Javelin/Spell
Preferred & Effective Range: Melee
During his time in Brettonia the Necromancer Heinrich

Kemmler created his own private army formed from the
unquiet spirits and undead haunting the Cairns of Brettonia.
There are significant variances when compared to the
undead of the legion or chaos above. It is the Lichemasters
own private army and will only be found where he is found.
The Lichemasters forces are based heavily around the

unique Bairns culture of the Brets. Legions of Skeleton warriors, that were forcibly entombed with
the old Bairn kings upon death, are called to life once more with a fragment more sentience than
most undead, being able of using rudimentary ranged weapons. The unit called the embalmed ones
are warriors who were more willingly entombed and as a result underwent a bastardized version of
the Nekeharan mummy process that allowed them to keep more of their faculties but left their
bodies highly flammable. The rare and elite Barrow Guardians, bodyguards to the ancient
Barrow Kings in life, are so in death as well and all have minor magical weapons. Rarer still are the
Unquiet Horsemen, for horses were a luxury that many could not afford in the ancient Old World.
Kemmler drew from the spirit side of things as well. Hordes of ethereal Ghosts patrol the barrow
tombs, their bodies proving immune to normal weaponry. These ghosts have rudimentary hand
weapons however their main attacks are literally based on the enemys fear of them, with the
fearful taking damage (like heart attacks or the like) from their presence while the unfearful can
just walk through. The most malevolent of these ghosts exist in hordes known as glooms, difficult
to control by necromancers but which throttle enemies with their ethereal hands.
The Barrow Kings deployed many primitive tomb constructs to guard their possessions in death.
These were often carved in the likeness of their various gods and sacred figures, all of which the
Lichemaster found extremely easy to animate back to life. They essentially function like the
Ushabti of the Undead Legion profile, though a bit weaker. Tomb Stalkers are various statues,
carved as horrific beasts, that are given unlife and allowed to prowl the barrows. Finally there are
the rare Winged Nightmares, which are Frankenstein-like corpses formed from the remains of
monsters such as griffons or manticores.
Each barrow complex was built to house a single great king and his entourage. The greatest of the
old kings were buried with servants to attend them in the next world and warriors to guard them.
They now serve as lieutenants for Kemmler and are attended by their own lieutenants known as
the Shadow Druids. In life, these druids counselled their masters on the whims of the many gods,
and of the future mapped in the stars. They were also the architects of the barrow complexes, and
performed the rituals that accompanied a king into the next life. Unlike a kings other servants, the
druids would not pass into death alongside their master, but would instead serve new rulers until
the spark of their life was almost spent. As death stirred to claim him, a druid would imbibe of a
magical poison that, though causing a terrible and agonizing death, would allow their spirits to
endure and watch over the barrows for eternity.
Offensive: Skeleton Warriors : Swords, spears, axes and occasionally javelins. Usually of pretty
primitive metallurgy, since bronze and flint was considered advanced for the barrow kings.
Embalmed Ones wield axes, swords and other hand weapons. Barrow Guardians have hand
weapons and great weapons, such as great axes, all enchanted with minor magic. Unquiet
Horsemen can carry primitive swords, spears, or lances.
Ghosts have minor hand weapons such as axes while glooms strangle people, in addition to both
having their special terror attack. Tomb Constructs fight with various stone hand weapons while
Tomb Stalkers attack with tooth, claw and whatever other weapons are attached to their being (for
they are based upon horrific animals). Winged Nightmares have all sorts of claws, teeth and
impaling tails. Many can also fly.
Barrow Kings are equipped with magically enhanced close combat weapons, while Shadow Druids
are level 1 or rarely level 2 wizards in the Lores of Death and Shadow (this was before the age of
refined Elf magic).
Defense: Skeletons have shields. Embalmed ones are considered tougher than a man, but more
flammable. Barrow Guardians wield corroded heavy armor and shields. Unquiet Horsemen have
shields and light armor, with the richest being able to afford heavy (bronze) armor.
Ghosts & Glooms are ethereal creatures and, as such, cannot be harmed by non-magical weapons.
Tomb Constructs and stalkers are creatures made of enchanted stone and have all the durability of
stone. Winged Nightmares have the innate durability of the creatures that spawned them.
Barrow Kings have the best, heaviest and most magically enhanced armor of their primitive
societies while Shadow Druids are ethereal ghosts.
For the most part, this army will only be present when Kemmler is present. It is rather limited and
in total max (lore) . At the absolute highest the numbers would range in the low tens of thousands.
Mobility: 4
Max Range: Hurled Rocks
Preferred Range: Stabbing the

enemy in the back!
The Ogres are often

accompanied by Gnoblar,
which are scrawny goblins
known for their small stature
and slow wits. The Ogres use
these Gnoblars as pets and
slaves and it is said for each
Ogre, there is a Gnoblar. These pets are used as sword carriers, lookouts, cooks and various other
tasks. A Gnoblar bonded to a given Ogre often ends up showcasing certain mannerisms of that Ogre,
such as the swaggering Bullies, exotic Manbiters and the Leadbiters.
Although small in stature most Gnoblars have a spiteful, ugly streak a mile long. Most Gnoblars are
twisted little cowards whose animal cunning is bent on keeping them alive in a world where
everything preys upon them and their own brethren view them as a threat to their position. Many
go out of their way to lure animals and even other humanoids near the Ogres camps where they can
drag the injured away to kill slowly. Having so little power in the world, when they do have a
creature at their mercy it becomes intoxicating and the malevolent little imps are unable to control
themselves in regards to torture.
As fungal Greenskins, Gnoblars literally grow and pop from the ground. Often there are so many
that the Ogres dont know what to do with them! So they herd them into massive hordes and send
them at the enemy to absorb missile fire and hopefully tie them down. At range they arm
themselves with everything from sharp rocks to horseshoes while in melee combat they fight with
broken beer bottles, sharpened sticks, false legs, animal teeth- virtually anything they can get their
hands on, which they use to frenziedly jab into the enemies nether regions until they or the enemy
stops moving. Every now and then, their sheer numbers enable them to pull foes down in a tide of
snapping bites, stabby blades and pure malice. When things do not go quite so well, and they start
to die in their droves, well, they're only Gnoblars...
One prominent Gnoblar is the Trapper, a devious creature that has evolved a rudimentary
intelligence the rest do not have. These Trappers idolize the Ogre Hunters(who, in turn, often use
the trappers as bait) and will lay an area jagged man-snappers, pits lined with stakes, wickedly
barbed nooses and other cruel devices that will incapacitate the unwary. That said, they often fall to
their own traps.
Other times a few enterprising Gnoblars can choose to build a scrap launcher; a makeshift
catapult that hurls gold, discarded scrap weapons and random debris at the enemy. While the
deluge of spearheads, hatchets, morning stars and other sharp instruments may, sometimes only
pincushion the ground or clang loudly, against a foe, so many lethally sharp bits fly through, the air
that odds are at least a few will strike tender, flesh. Although some of the broken or rusted
weapons, do no more than bruise the enemy, the odd axe or, sword will land precisely as the
Gnoblar crew intended, skewering or stabbing the foe from afar. Though, being a rickety device,
many are the times where something goes awry and the machine fatally malfunctions, killing
Gnoblar nearby.
Offensive: Gnoblar Fighters are armed with various debris and trash that can be hurled aat range
or stabbed-with limited effectiveness- in melee combat.
Trappers utilize a wide assortment of traps and contraptions of dubious reliability. Once a enemy is
trapped the Gnoblars will then swarm around and poke violently with a sharpened stick.
Scraplaunchers hurl enormous piles of Scrap at foes at catapult rangees(but with dubious
reliability) . The crew is armed with rusted weapons and they do ride a mighty Rhinox.
Defensive: Really nothing, save any scrap they strap to themselves.
===Additional Factors==
Gnoblars are cowardly and prone to bickering, even killing each other, on the field of battle.
Good Sigmar's breeches, that was a close run thing. Those Hill Goblins can be vicious as cornered rats
when they gather in numbers, especially if there are shiny things around and no Ogres in the vicinity.
Like now, for instance. I take a very dim view of mercenary guards who disappear to beat each other
round the heads in primitive rituals every time they have a disagreement amongst themselves. We
have lost good men as a result. The problem is voicing that displeasure to a towering thug, who is quite
capable of finding alternative employment in the region, without having one's head caved in. On
reflection I shall hold my peace.
The ground around us is littered with dead and mangled Gnoblars, for at twilight the Ogres we had
employed to guard our caravan marched down the side of the mountain to solve some trivial dispute.
Almost immediately after this, a good three-score Gnoblars crept out of the nooks and crannies of the
mountains with the intention of robbing our trading caravan and making off with some choice items
with which to fuel their barter economy. I would say that the coincidental nature of these events was
highly suspicious, but even the relatively intelligent Ogre mercenaries would struggle to coordinate a
plan with a bunch of Goblins of any stripe.
So we were ambushed. Luckily the caravan is not without comparatively reliable human guards, and
Frederich and his men mounted a sterling defense. Most of the Gnoblars attacked in a great wave,
clawing, biting and laying about themselves with improvised weaponry, only to fall back as soon as
they took a few casualties. As it turned out, this was purely a distraction so that their brothers could
creep up from the other side of the caravan and pilfer as much loot as possible whilst their friends
capered and stabbed.
I knew that if any of them got into the quartermaster's caravan they would not fare well, for that is
where Ergo was stationed and it is a really bad idea to attempt to steal food from a Halfling. For my
part, I would have unchained our Ogres' Sabretusk if I had been certain that it would not simply have
pounced on me instead, so I stayed on top of the caravan and took the odd pot-shot with my flintlock.
Ultimately a Gnoblar is no match for an Imperial swordsman, and we saw them off. That said, several
of our number are nursing sore heads, having been wounded or even knocked unconscious by the
near-constant hail of sharp projectiles hurled into our ranks during the raid. These keep coming up;
within the last five minutes we have found a cat skull with a rock inside it, a sharpened horseshoe,
and a fleur-de-lys paperweight that, as I could judge from the engraving upon it, once belonged to a
Bretonnian ambassador.
Speaking of junk projectiles, the most surprising element of the raid was the appearance of one of
those gigantic beasts of burden; a Rhinox, towing a wooden contraption that looked like it would fall
apart at any moment. With a great twang, part of the machine whipped forward, sending a host of
projectiles sailing through the air towards us. As they landed I realized the projectiles were weapons,
swords, spears and lances! They fell short of us, but once the strange contraption had found its range
we were likely to be under a downpour of rusted blades! I for one did not fancy this, and ordered the
cannon disengaged from its housing in short order. Most of the guards were busy repelling our light-
fingered assailants, but the cannon was prepared nonetheless. And not a moment too soon.
Another rain of rusted blades descended upon us, and this time it was on target. I saw one sword blade
slice through the canvas roof of the caravan I was sitting upon, embedding itself in a cheese, and
another stick straight through Josiah as he stooped over to slit a Gnoblar's throat. I saw a half-spear
thud straight through Carssen's helmet and into his skull. I saw the back of a hatchet knock Tobias
from his feet if it had landed the other way round it would have split his head like a cooking apple!
The rest of the weapons bounced from the rock of the pass with a sound like an earthquake in a
smithy. But by this time the cannon was loaded.
Thank goodness for Olfric's eye; if his uncanny guesswork had not been so accurate we might have had
to endure another rain of rusted steel. As it was, the cannonball thundered out, scaring off most of the
Gnoblars on my side of the caravan, smashing into the Rhinox-drawn contraption, sending spars of
timber flying in all directions. At the demise of their beloved war machine, the Gnoblars made their
escape. I feel sure our Ogres, upon their return, will treat the whole situation as if it is beneath their
notice. After all, what real damage can a gaggle of larcenous Hill Goblins cause? Carssen and Josiah
know the answer to this, I fear.
Mobility: 5
The strongest, meanest, and most well equipped of the

basic Beastmen foot soldiers are the so-called
"Bestigors. Barring the chieftain and the bray-shaman
they are the best of the average beastherd and they
make sure everyone knows it, slaying their lesser
brethren when any sign of challenge is shown or
sometimes even at random! As part of their need for
superiority Bestigors usually engage in head-butting
competitions with each other during their free time,
resulting in a lot of concussions but a band of heavily
battle crazed Beastmen.
Even the Beastlord is wary of the Bestigors, for their sense of superiority is such that they
constantly judge their lords for weaknesses. Should one manifest a Bestigor of particular
audacity will suddenly and without warning bellow a challenge and heft his axe at the chieftain,
potentially resulting in his premature demise. It is for this reason that the more cunning Beastlords,
who often were once Bestigors themselves, are constantly scanning their elite troops. Should signs
of defiance manifest they are quick to viciously purge their elite guards.
In battle they serve as bodyguards for the Braylord or as a linebreaker, with their weight,
momentum, armor and two-handed ax giving them the ability to push through enemy formations.
They are more disciplined than Gors and can work in a formation, albeit a very loose and ill-
disciplined one. At the same time they will deliberately seek out and engage enemy elite units
as part of their quest to prove their own superiority. After battle it is the bestigor that, after the
shaman and the braylord, gets the first pick at loot.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Usually a giant, massive axe great for carving through armor, combined with unnatural
strength.
Defensive: Heavy plate armor, usually stripped from the corpses of many knights and strapped on
crudely.
Mobility: 5
He straightened as more shapes came running at them

through the smoke, and his heart skipped a beat as he saw the
monstrous charging shapes. Huge, horned and shaggy beasts
with slavering jaws and powerfully muscled bodies loped
through the mounds of the dead with crude axes and looted
swords.
Hold fast, men. Well see these things off! he shouted as cries
of alarm spread from somewhere close. He couldnt see from
where and had no time to check as the first of the beasts
thundered into their line.
Braying monsters ripped men from their feet with huge sweeps
of their weapons, snapping fangs tearing mens faces off,
clawed limbs rending limbs from bodies. The beasts gorged on
flesh, hacking their way through his men with ease. Albertalli
chopped his halberd through the arm of a dog-headed creature, shocked when it roared and turned to
face him without seeming to notice its wound.
He stabbed with the point of the weapon, the tip snapping off a handspan within its belly. The creature
roared, bloody spittle frothing at its jaws, and its clawed arm swept down smashing his halberd in half.
Albertalli stumbled backwards, dragging out his pistol, but the beast was on him before he could fire,
its massive jaws snapping shut on his skull and tearing his head off with one bite.
Growing up to be roughly twelve feet tall , weighing sixty stone (840 lbs) and strong enough to rip
a man in half with ease, the minotaur is a creature even Beastmen tread lightly around. The
creature is dominated by omnipresent hunger that pervades through every element of its day
to day life; its constantly looking for something to eat. Yet this is not of sustenance rather its the
unholy euphoria of the act itself, of killing, butchering and literally eating their foes. It is in this
state they become one with Chaos, and for that reason a Minotaur will not stop consuming even
after it is physically full.
Beastmen herds cautiously lure minotaurs into following them via sacrifices and blood left out in
the open. Cautiously is the key word here, for minotaurs have a well-deserved reputation for
eating their small kindred. Such is the
acknowledgement of their power that prior to
battle Minotaurs are allowed to pick some of
the best and most powerful looted weapons
from their stocks, even magical blades when
available.
Fighting on a battlefield drives the Minotaur

crazy, for the scent of blood and gore is
omnipresent. In wild hunger they charge into
even the most heavily armed regiments
without fear, rending enemies with
weapons first and then tooth and claw.
Such is their bloodlust that wounds do not
deter them and often the only way a Minotaur
is going to back off is in death. In this frenzied
state the death of nearby friendly Beastmen
comes with some commonality, but that is
expected by the Braylords.
However this does come with a significant

drawback, as if the Minotaur kills enough or
comes across enough gore he will quickly
begin to consume right then and there on
the battlefield. Nothing else matters at this point while it is eating; not enemy soldiers aiming at
it with more powerful weapons, not those retreating out of its way, not even allied Beastmen who
are in desperate need of a good linebreaker!
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Whatever they can get their hands on. Great axes, claymores, clubs, giant hammers etc.,
all mostly rusted, are examples of what they can carry. They are also strong enough to rip a man in
half or kill a horse with their teeth. However the strongest Minotaurs, known as Bloodkine, may
possess magical weapons that can increase an attribute or do some slight extra damage. An
example is the sword type "Everbleed" is probably the worst as even the slightest cut can create a
torrent of blood that will never heal via natural means.
Defensive: Light leather armor and occasional shields. Also Bloodkine might instead try and take a
plate that gives fire resistance or a helmet that drastically increases the power behind a head-butt
(Which is undoubtedly strong enough to cave in skulls).
We is strong. Strong like the

mountains. Strong like the tide. Great
Ones know this, like well our strength
so they set us to guarding the special
places. Holy places. Prey comes to us
there. Mostly not worthy prey, but still
tasty. The little ones call on us to make
war for them and sometimes we do.
But they also fear us and that is good.
They should fear us. Their blood smells
good, too. Kartush, Minotaur
Mobility: 6
Tuskagors are viscous creatures that

roam the deepest parts of the woods.
A cruel parody of a boar and the ram,
the Tuskagor sprouts malformed tusks and horns from all over its body. Tuskagors are
notoriously aggressive. So much so in fact that the Brayherds have to entice minotaurs to wrestle
them down and bind them with a Bray-Shaman overseeing the latter via magical means. Then
Bestigors are needed to stop the Minotaur from eating the Tuskagor. Finally then they are forced to
chariots.
In battle the Beastmen utilize these chariots for a variety of uses. The weaker ones will be used as
beasts of burden to cart off loot and plunder after the battle. The strongest ones will pull the
Beastmen-sometimes even their Beastlord- into battle .These surge into combat at breakneck
speeds, their sheer weight of impact enough to inflict terrible damage in their own right. That
the chariot often shatters at point of impact upsets the Beastmen not, for they will have ridden
down many of the enemy in doing so. Even when the chariot has broken up the tuskagors-now
frenzied- are still threats to be reckoned with.
Cries of anger and dismay suddenly went up from a group of flagellants as a crude rattling chariot
charged across the battlefield at breakneck speed. Resembling nothing more than several large pieces
of lumber nailed and strapped together, it was drawn by two hulking creatures that looked like wild
boars mutated into huge horned and tusked monsters.
The tuskgorsfor that was the name these warped animals were known byploughed through the
ranks of the Sigmarite army, dragging the shaking chariot behind them. They crushed any who got in
the way of their heavy hooves or the iron-banded wheels of the wheeled platform they hauled.
One man was impaled on the horns of one of the tuskgors and then tossed high into the air as it
threw its head back. The unfortunate wretch landed amidst a pack of ravening, battle-frenzied ungors
that proceeded to tear him limb from limb.
-Magestorm
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: The Tuskagors themselves have vicious tusks and horns and their weight makes
them skilled at trampling enemies. The two riders, a Bestigor and Gor, carry a great ax and spear
respectively.
Defensive: A Tuskagors fur is heavily flea infested and so matted that , along with thick skin, most
arrows can barely penetrate it! The riders have light leather armor or the plate of a bestigor.
Mobility: 6
Training/Experience:
4
Max & Effective

Range: Melee
Preferred
Range: Melee
The foul-tempered,
bigger cousin of the
tuskagor, this creature
is feared even by
Beastmen as it is
considers them its
prey. Yet the taming of
such a beast is
considered a rite of
passage for a
Beastlord, and refusal
to do so leads to
accusations of
cowardice. Said
accusations often lead
to challenges and a
new Beastlord.
Countless Beastlords
have died trying to
tame these creatures,
yet every once in a
while one succeeds by
beating the razorgor in
the head enough times
with a hammer to daze it. Once this is done the Beastlord will build a chariot to showcase his new
status while he rides around the massive boar.
In times of war the largest brayherds will first devote themselves to capturing many razorgors at
once and coral them together. Then they are either herded into loose packs or used individually to
pull manned chariots. Regardless of whom rides them Razorgors are nearly uncontrollable to
steer or direct, and for the most part the charioteers are just around for the ride. Though they have
poor vision, when a razorgor catches site of the enemy they are near-uncontrollable, running over
any in their path to get to them. Such is the power of their charge that they can knock down minor
walls, flatten a tree, and scatter shield walls.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Razorgors have viscous tusks and

trampling hooves, ensuring that their charge is
extremely powerful, far more powerful than
even the tuskagor. The two riders, a Bestigor
and Gor, carry a great ax and spear
respectively.
Defensive: Even thicker skin and hair then the

Tuskagor. The riders have their own armor
seen in their profiles.
Due to the difficulty in capturing and corralling

them, can be considered a rare unit.
Mobility: 4
At first glance the Chosen may appear like an ordinary Chaos warrior however upon approaching it
is easy to detect the difference. These warriors are slightly taller and more muscular, their
armor more ornate, and their deadly two handed swords more fearsome. Whereas ordinary
Marauders of Chaos look up to Chaos Warriors in awe, the Chaos Warriors seek to be more like the
Chosen. Generally in order to reach this rank one must undergo a heroic quest. In one example
a Chosen got his position by getting captured and then fighting through Skavenblight for freedom.
Much rumor and myth shrouds them, however it is apparent that they do at least have some
magical blessings that permeate beyond the main warrior that leads each group and spreads
throughout the group. More often than not these are gifts actually beneficial to the Chosens desire
to inflict havoc upon the world. This, combined with the Chosens steely self-control and
determination, makes them a potent force on the battlefield. In fact it is said that the Chosen have
only one extreme vice, and that is cruelty to all things (if it can be called a vice to such a warlike
individual).
In battle the Chosen fight not as line infantrymen or ordinary soldiers but as champions and elite
warriors. They advance unflinchingly towards enemy lines, marching through barrages of
bullets, arrows, and even artillery without fear. Once melee combat is reached they excel at
breaking enemy lines, and their reputation is such that among the Empire just the rumor they are
approaching causes apprehension.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Can use swords, hammers, maces, halberds, great swords etc. . Chosen, by virtue of their
mutations, are far stronger than even normal chaos warriors with elven equivalent reaction time.
Defensive: Chaos Armor (see Chaos Warrior) with possibility of using shields.
Mobility: 6
Among the generals of the Old World, there are few sights more feared than that of a horde of Chaos
Knights erupting from the mist into their battle lines. And for good reason. Their weapons are
horrifying, earned through countless years toiling under the dark gods with steeds that are
gruesomely daemonic, as intelligent and wicked as any man. When Chaos Knights collide into
battle lines enemy formations almost invariably break and scatter.
The warrior himself is armed a deadly assortment of gruesome cleavers and axes, and is covered
completely with armor crafted by a master Chaos Dwarf daemonsmith. Out of his greaves and
books are deadly scythes, perfect for cutting as they ride through enemy lines. Reputation too, once
built up, leads the enemy to be exceptionally wary of these warriors.
Famous Variants: The Plague Knight is a notable sub-variant of the Chaos Knight utilized by
Nurgle. Though these Knights are slower than other variants of Chaos Knights they hit with greater
force, and can survive blows that would clearly kill other servants of Chaos. Not to be outdone
Tzeentch has a company of knights, the Kaldour Knights, composed of apostate warriors from the
Empire, Brettonia, Tilea and Estalia. They are noted for their great tactical skill and ruthlessness.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Chaos Knights can wield all manner of cleavers, swords or lances. Some of these might
be magically enhanced to increase the power behind the weapon. The steeds themselves are a
malevolent kicking, biting and sometimes even goring weapon.
Defensive: Chaos Armor completely covering rider and steed. Shields too.
Mobility: 5.5

And to tell of the Juggernaut: its like has never been teen.
Twas a mighty steed of groaning iron and brazen steel,
a thing of living metal that steed taller than a man and
reared with the furies of a thousand, thousand dead. Its
massive head was part hound, part hull, part the
incarnate soul of Moody hate. As it moved toward us we
saw its countless cless-rivetted plates, forged in dark fires,
hound with runes of unearthly spite. As it bared its brazen
fangs we lost all heart and turned, fleeing to the night.
Daemon Codex, 8e
Those Chaos warriors or bloodletters who offer their

master a truly monumental number of skulls and give
him great honor may be seen fit to be rewarded with the
half-metal half daemon mount known as the
juggernaut. These warriors have been gifted with
Khornes daemonic mount known as the juggernaut,
which are creatures part metal and part daemon. Bound
in runes the metal and brass its form only barely serves
to contain the forms rage. They are the embodiment
of the breech, the newly made gap in enemy lines or
walls that allows for the assailing force to pour
through in a onslaught of bloodlust. In these moments
only the most stubborn or powerful of men may survive
the melee. This is the Juggernaut. Like any of Khornes minions they care only for death and
destruction. In battle while its rider attacks with its own craft the Juggernaut will gore, bite and
crush those beneath it.
Needless to say, both the daemonic and mortal variants are made to smash through enemy lines,
for few defenses could hold back a mulit-ton charge of hate, rage and brass. Once thats done the
only purpose of the Juggernaut is indiscriminately killing, something that it does very well. Such is
their zeal in fact that they have little restraint and it is said that they are borderline uncontrollable
by chaos commanders. Such is their zeal that the rider and mount will violently argue about who to
kill next, an argument that can occasionally result in the rider getting thrown from his mount.
There also exists a rare chariot version of Khorne, pulled by a pair of competing juggernauts.
Needless to say this unit can easily smash through enemy lines in a multi-ton brass charge.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Mortal Chaos Knight

Variant: Axes, swords, maces.
May be equipped with lances or
minor magical weapons.
In battle while its rider attacks

the Juggernaut will gore, bite and
crush those beneath it.
Bloodcrusher: Hebllade
As noted in both cases the mount

itself is perhaps the most potent
weapon.
Defensive: The mortal knight has

Chaos Armor and a shield, while
the daemon variant has some
innate magical resistance and
scaly skin. The Juggernaut is
living metal and iron, able to
deflect bullets with some
reliability.
Mobility: 7
Training: 8-9
Max Range: Lance
Preferred Range: ^^
Once, the order of the Blood Dragon was one of the noblest in all
the Empire. They guarded the mountain pass between Brettonia
and Empire, and by all accounts fought with valor and heroism.
However one night a mysterious Noble came and demanded
entry. Being courteous, the Blood Dragons agreed, only finding
out once inside that he was a vampire! The Noble, Walach
Harkon, systematically challenged and killed every knight he
deemed subpar and gave vampirism to those that impressed him. For several decades after they
preyed on those they used to defend, until a passing Witch Hunter found out and swiftly summoned
an army to attack them.
The siege was terrible and lasted three years, but in the end the castle was routed and the
remaining blood knights forced to retreat. For centuries they spread across the land, serving as
mercenaries or duelists. It was only recently that they were united by Walach. Unlike the pernicious
Vampire Lords of Sylvania, the Blood Dragons never attempt to gain supremacy over entire nations.
Nor do they try to raise huge armies, preferring forces consisting of Wight men-at-arms to act as
hideous parodies of the retinues of mortal nobles. The principles and ideals of the Blood Dragons
are more concerned with the martial prowess of individuals, rather than with attempting to
create empires.
In the End Times campaign Wallach and the Blood Knights initially sided with
Nagash and served alongside with Vlad von Carstien on the border of the Auric
Bastion. However their leader was lured into worship of Khorne by promises of
endless glory and through Walach many more fell to the temptations of the
Blood God. Hundreds of them charged the Imperial line at Alfedren,
breaking the Empire from what would have been a clear victory and causing
the Empire to lose one of its greatest emperors in its time of need. Many Blood
Dragons were slain in that battle with those remaining fighting for Khorne
elsewhere.
LOADOUT
Offensive: Lance, Sword (or mace) and Vampyric attributes. These swords can be magically
enchanted to do greater damage. Vampires are by their nature many times faster, stronger and with
greater stamina than a human.
A Blood Dragon charge is one of the most devastating assaults in Warhammer Fantasy. Even from
a small group typically hundreds can be killed.
Defense: In addition to their sometimes enchanted platemail, they can carry Flags of the Blood
Keep, which serve as magical standards that allows them to run through arrow and gun fire. Only
very powerful ranged can reliably bypass this standard.
===ADDITINOAL FACTORS===
Blood Knights ride on either undead nightmares(barded horses) or skullcrushers . They are
extremely prideful and vain to the point where they will automatically accept any challenge for duel
that comes their way, and will frequently issue them. Many probably have marks of Khorne.
There arent that many vampires and the whole force would number in a few hundreds, if that.
There was a shrieking of steeds, a tremor of invisible hooves and, clamouring above all, guttural
voices bellowing a war cry in archaic Reikspiel. Louder and louder the tumult grew, drowning the
sounds in Dreists mind, driving him near to madness. There was a blur of crimson and steel at the
captains shoulder, and a legion of gaunt-faced knights spurred north. A moment later, he felt the
downdraft from a massive pair of wings, and clamped his eyes shut for fear of what he might otherwise
see.
First to lay eyes upon the newcomers were the plaguebearers at the Auric Bastions breach, though
few endured long enough to fully appreciate what they saw. The howling wind blew across the field of
plague-slain dead, and then it was a mere wind no longer, but a column of thundering hooves, lowered
lances and raging battle- lust. Lances speared home into horned skulls and swollen bellies, spilling
slippery guts and noxious vapours into the air. The knights noticed not the stench, and spurred
forward again, driving deep into the daemonic legion that yet lay beyond the wall. The plaguebearers
fought back, but the riders effortlessly parried their clumsy blows, or hacked limbs bearing weapons
off with a swipe of chill steel.-End Times Nagash
Mobility: 5
Max Range: Melee
Like their Beastmen compatriots, the Warriors of Chaos too are known to ride chariots into battle
however unlike them their chariots are made of sturdier stuff, and do not usually collapse
immediately upon impact with the enemy lines. These are wrought with iron and forged in
blood, weighing so much that they can open up sections in all but the most powerful lines and
fortifications from the impact of their charge.
From the steeds to the chariot itself, every aspect of this vehicle is a weapon. The horses are
described as coming straight from hell itself with balefire shining in their eyes and being
malevolent enough to snap at flesh as they run by, trampling those that fall underneath. They are
clad almost completely in tempered steel with giant scythes coming out of several points on
their armor. The chariot itself is also covered in many of these spikes, including the wheels, as
well as grizzly ornaments from past conquests.
However not even these horse-drawn chariots can compete with the rare Gorebeast Chariot.
These are even more massive vehicles then the normal chariot, pulled by the massive gorebeast,
which somewhat resembles a rhino. .The sole purpose of such a mount is to deliver a blow of near-
unstoppable force to a weak-point in enemy lines, scattering and even utterly blowing apart
through sheer force of impact those hit. Such is its reputation that carrion birds and hungry
hounds are said to follow these chariots at a respectful distance.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Both Gorbeast and Chaos chariots are lined with all sorts of spikes and scythes, and their
mounts attack with deadly maws and trampling hooves. The two Chaos Warriors who ride each
chariot attack with halberds or whips.
Defensive: Chaos Warrior mounts wear Chaos Armor, and their mounts are covered in tempered
steel.
Both the Chariot models can take specific blessings of the various gods boosting strength (force of
charge), defense, making them more difficult to hit or hit faster. Also at least one anecdote in Dark
Elves 7th edition speaks of Chaos using and riding giant, saber toothed cat chariots in the invasions
of Naggarond.
Training: 4-8
Mobility: 4
The Skaramor are one of the most vicious tribes of the Chaos Wastes, a tribe said to be more
devoted to Khorne than any other. They are fanatical warriors who disdain the soldiers of the
Southern Civilizations, believing that only fellow Marauders and monsters of the Wastes can offer a
true challenge. This perception has held true for centuries, only changing where Khornes command
in the End Times had them pouring down into the Empire.
On the base level the Skaramor have plenty of Marauders, however those willing to dedicate
themselves further to Khorne may ascend to the rank of Skullreaper. Skullreapers are murderous
devotees to Khorne, mutated by their existence to being so thick in muscle that they can rip men
into pieces with their bare hands and they stand a full foot taller than even their already large
kinsmen. In battle Skullreapers care little for strategy, defense or discipline, fighting as
individuals with blinding rage and armed with magical daemonic axes that hit with terrible power.
Once the Skullreapers are unleashed they serve as a whirlwind of destruction, something that can
wreck through enemy linesmen and- if they are not careful enough- their own allies.
Above even the Skullreaper is the fearsome Wrathmonger, an individual who eats and drinks blood
and flesh of those they slay and are known for battling virtually constantly. In order to become
Wrathmongers aspirants must slay their comrades brutally, wade through a boiling blood lake and
defeat a Daemon of Khorne in a one on one duel before subjugating it inside themselves.
After emerging from this lake these men become infused with daemonic energy making them
extremely powerful, their skin turn blood red and some few might even constantly weep steaming
blood from their pores (obviously they survive this) . In battle Wrathmongers are juggernauts,
wielding massive duel hammerflails and armored with Daemon-wrought plate. Where a
Wrathmonger treads bloody ruin follows.
Offensive: Skullreapers use daemonic enhanced axes or cleavers, while Wrathmongers wield duel
Flails. Both are superhumanely strong, enough to tear off the limbs of lesser men.
Defense: Chaos Armor, though according to pictures does not always cover the entire body.
===ADDITIONAL FACTORS====
Both Units have the Mark of Khorne.

Training: 7
Mobility: 4
Drawn from dozens of different tribes, the group known as the Putrid Blightkings is a loose
brotherhood that stretches across the entire northernmost region of the world, each of them
touched by the daemonflies of Bloab Rotspawned. These flies wander the world to drill into the
head of certain champions, who are then from that point on oriented towards the desires of Nurgle.
Like the rest of the Nurglite forces this works by slowly destroying the will of the infected, making
them increasingly susceptible to the Plague God as time goes on.
In battle these champions band together in loose groups. They are blessed with superior strength
and resilience. Indeed, they are tougher than even Orcs in the setting, able to endure massive
blows before being put down. They are blessed with many weapons that are carried as spares on
their person, such as axes, flails, battle scythes, staffs with massive bells on them (remind you of
anyone?) or mutant limbs. As all are carried on their person, they can switch out if they choose to.
OFFENSIVE: An array of various weapons, all poisoned and many carried on their person at once.
DEFENSIVE: Chaos Armor.
===ADDITIONAL FACTORS===
Always have the Mark of Nurgle.

Mobility: 5
Max & Effective Range: Melee (mostly) some sub variance
Preferred Range: Melee, mostly
Easily twice as tall as a man, with arms as thick

around as Einarrs entire body, the thing was the
largest ogre he had ever seen. The breath of the
gods had fallen heavily upon the ogre; upon its
shoulders a pair of hideous heads glowered at the
world, great tusks twisting their massive jaws. From
the centre of the brutes torso, a third arm jutted, its
thick fingers clawing at the night as the ogre roared
its wrath. Tattered furs and strips of rag clothed the
creatures malformed bulk, barely containing the
hairy twisted body.-Palace of the Plague Lord
In Warhammer Fantasy, Ogres are a race of giant

humanoids that wander much of the world, selling
themselves as mercenaries in their quest to
sample as much food as possible! Twice as tall
as a man and extremely muscle-bound, they are
well-suited to subduing almost anything that
comes in their path . In their desire to eat all sorts
of new food as well as fight, they often travel the
world in large warbands. Some of these inevitably
go North to fight in the Desolate Lands or even the
Chaos Wastes. Some of these are then impressed
by the Northmens might, thus joining their tribe either temporarily or permanently in order to
raid (and eat) the Southlanders in large raiding groups.
Though ogres are naturally resistant to corruption, a few are nevertheless warped by the nature of
Chaos and given new mutations that Ogres are often positively giddy about. Given their nature,
these often include new mouths growing all over their body from which to feed, or even a
second head that sends more food directly to their stomach.. Others earn enough to loot to buy
massive plate mail from the Chaos Dwarfs. Units of these are then sent to cave in enemy lines, for
their very impact has been shatter the bodies of enemy line soldiers.
It is said that a single ogre can outfight a dozen men, and dozen can beat down an entire defended
village. Imagine what an army can do?
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Generally large hand weapons such as axes, clubs, swords etc. Some dual-wield while
others equip themselves with massive axes, mauls, claymores etc. An Ogre is also strong enough to
physically tear off limbs, crack a boulder with a head-butt, knock through the wall of a house, crush
a mans head in their hands, smash a shield wall asunder or lift up a 2,000 pound Rhinoxen. Its teeth
are sturdy enough to bite through stone or even metal!
A few might be Plague Ogres, which are like Chaos Ogres but infested with more diseases and
more durable.
Defensive: All Ogres have gut-plates to protect their most important organ. Though many are
bare-chested they can be equipped with Plate armor forged by the Chaos Dwarves. Ogres are also
significantly more durable than humans and in the Rise of the Horned Rat it is said that it took
several rounds of magical jezzrail shots (though likely not headshots) to bring one down.
Note: Ogres are subject to Marks of Chaos.
Just as Ratboy was about to speak, a dark shape passed overhead. The archers at the top of the hill had
finally loosed their arrows and the dusk grew even deeper as the lethal cloud filled the sky. The
marauders were so close by this point that even the fading light could not obscure their outlines.
Thousands of black and white-flecked arrows thudded into their thick hides.
Countless ranks of marauders fell screaming back down the hill, clutching at their throats and chests
as they went, but the ogres barely stumbled. They hardly seemed to notice the arrows that sank into
them. With a chorus of derisive grunts and snarls they simply snapped the shafts and continued
rushing up the hill.
()
The injured ogre was now only a few feet away, hammering its brutal weapon through ranks of men,
utterly oblivious to the countless wounds that networked its calloused flesh. With a roar of frustration
the thing slammed its huge shard of metal into a row of spearmen attempting to block its way, sending
them reeling backwards in a shower of splintered wood and bone. The men screamed in horror and
pain as the ogre trampled maniacally over their bodies, crushing ribs, lungs and hearts as it continued
up the hill. Then, with a confused snort, the beast found itself facing a dazzling sight: Maximilian and
his knights. Warrior Priest
Mobility: 5
Max Range: 7 meters (vomit)

While the majority of their race is ruled by Greassus Goldtooth during the End Times and even
before many Ogre tribes did side with Chaos .
Great Tribe of Ghuth Spawnchomper : In the far northern wastes of the world, under the
watchful eyes of the Chaos Gods, the Great Tribe of Ghuth Spawnchomper attack and devour
anything that they can find. Many of the Great Tribe's members have come to bear the mark of
Chaos in some way, but this is not a stigma in Ogre society - an extra arm is regarded as extremely
useful, whereas an extra head is a distinct advantage in an eating contest. Ghuth himself long ago
developed a predilection for fried Chaos Spawn tentacles, and his unusual diet has begun to take its
toll; not only has he sprouted a crown-like frill of gesticulating fingers across his forehead, but he
has also begun to bring the legendary Dragon Ogres, much maligned by Ogrekind in general, into
the ranks of his tribe.
Red Fist Tribe: A tribe defeated by Tamurkhan, with a great many joining his horde and becoming
Plague Ogres.
The Tribe of Shrewd Fulg: Shrewd Fulg is a hunchbacked and grizzled Tyrant who, although far
from the strongest of his peers, is as cunning and evil as a serpent. He rules the lands to the
northwest of the Mountains of Mourn with an iron fist, ensuring those who annoy him eat poisoned
meat or fall foul of the monstrosities he keeps in his menagerie. The Ogres under his rule dare not
even break wind in his presence, for Shrewd Fulg cannot abide any kind of challenge to his
authority and will have anyone that crosses him turned into a Rat Ogre at the first opportunity. As
he has strong ties to the Beastmasters of Clan Moulder, even his Irongut bodyguards live in fear of
waking to find themselves transformed into something horrible by the Skaven master mutators.
Baugh the Slavelords Tribe : Little is known of this tribe, other than it probably deals a lot with
the slave trade and is thus aligned with the Chaos Dwarfs.
IronSkins: The Ironskin Tribe is a prominent Chaos Dwarf aligned tribe that dominates the roads
to Zharr Naggrund. They have grown rich and prosperous thanks to their trade with the Chaos
Dwarfs and thus their tribe is considered to be more heavily armed and armored. They are rather
infamous for their absolutely devastating charges that few forces in the Warhammer World, even
the Elves, can stand up to. In the End Times they were loyal enough to their Chaos Dwarf allies that
they attempted to stop Grimgors Beast Waagh in the Mountains of Mourn. Though giving a good
account of themselves they were unable to stymie Grimgors advance and thus they were defeated.
Very little can stand before a full-fledged Ironskin charge. Any enemy troops that aren't hurled to
the ground by the impact of the collision are subsequently smashed, pulped or hacked apart by the
massive weapons the Ironskin carry. Any who survive that barrage of brutality risk being stomped
into the dirt under by the Ironskin metal-shod feet.
The Ironskin tribe is said to be a large and prominent Ogre tribe, and may well number in the
thousands. It is also far more heavily armored than most Ogre tribes.
The Following units, in addition to the earlier described Gnoblars (and later described Ogre
leadership) can be found in Ogre armies. There is emphasis for some units on the Ironskins, as they
are the biggest of the tribes aligned with Chaos.
Mobility: 5
Max Range: Melee
Ogre Bulls is a term used to describe all the fighting-age, adult

male Ogres within a tribal kingdom or society. Bulls make up the
majority of any Ogre kingdom, an unwashed mass of muscle and
fat that can flatten landscapes as well as towns and villages when
they gather in horrifically large numbers. Big, brutish and
extremely violent, Ogre Bulls are simple and straightforward
creatures; they know what they want and use their brawn to take
it.
Ogre Bulls excel at fighting and this, along with their greed and
lack of concern about right or wrong, means that an Ogre army
made up of Bulls is always ready for a battle against anyone,
anywhere. History is replete with examples of Ogre Bulls being
paid to fight (and even sometimes being paid not to join a fray).
When they do enter combat, Ogres make frightening opponents,
for they are savage and can sometimes devour the fallen where
they lie. In the heat of battle, this horrifies their opponents, who must fight the blood-splattered
vanquisher of their former comrades. On the battlefield, Ogres form up into blocky units and the
sweaty stink of a hulking formation is imposing in its own right.
Offensive: Ogre Bulls usually wield enormous crushing clubs, hurled with so much force as to
ignore most forms of armor. After all a wooden club might not shatter plate however it would
shatter the arm behind it. Ogres hold clubs to be almost sacred and thus many can be found that are
customized.
Ogre Bulls might also have Ironfists. Originating from the traditional Ogre sport of pit-fighting,
Ogres often cover their off-hand with some kind of shield, spiked gauntlet or heavy glove, known as
ironfist. This can be used to bat aside even the strongest attacks in a similar way to a giant buckler,
or merely to smash an enemy's face into an unrecognizable pulp.
Defensive: All Ogres have gut-plates, though quality varies from being made of wood to metal.
Roaring out the name of their leader, Golgfag Maneaters mercenary band marched into the hall. The
dwarf line near to Durggan Stoutbellys position opened, and the ogres barged their way into the fight,
mournfang cavalry and sabretusks going before them, driving wolf rats away from the artillery
battery. Skaven were flung high into the air by the force of the ogres impact, and the mercenaries
penetrated many yards into the seething fur before they were slowed. The ogres were untroubled by
the skavens weaponry, and killed the creatures easily, their cannon-wielding warriors slaughtering
whole units with each blast. Golgfags disciplined force then turned to the left, and began fighting their
way down the front of the dwarf line, their cavalry pushing their way deep into the horde. The pressure
came off Durggans position, and the dwarf artillery intensified its fire, blasting, spearing, roasting and
squashing hundreds of clanrats. Rise of the Horned Rat
Mobility: 5
Max Range: Melee

Ironguts are the Ogres of any given tribe that have the most status and the best armor and
weapons, acting as the rock-hard enforcers of their tribe's Tyrant. They are akin to Stormvermin, of
the Skaven in this way. They go into battle armed with massive two-handed weapons, be they
enormous scimitars, rocks bolted to tree boughs with iron bands, or simply gigantic versions of the
traditional Ogre club. Ironguts wear large, ornamental gut-plates to show off their elite standing,
and cover their meaty arms and boulder-like heads in heavy armor plating cobbled together from
various conquests over the years.
Usually, Ironguts number only the elite of the tribe however some of the richest, such as the famous
Ironskins, can afford a great bulk or even their whole tribe into Ironguts. To those that can afford it,
the more Ironguts the better. It was the Ironguts who, outnumbered hundreds to one, nonetheless
broke a Skaven horde at the Battle of Magma River, the Ironguts who destroyed an army of Chaos
Warriors at the Battle of Bloody Ice and the Ironguts who broke through the walls of a Dwarf
outpost at Cragspike Peak.
Offensive: Great Weapons such as giant cleavers, axes and the like.
Defensive: Heavy Iron armor.
Mobility: 5
The Ironskins are infamous for the number of cannon

toting madmen in their ranks. Though the Ogres lack
the knowledge to make them, they are given massive
numbers of them as a reward for service by the Chaos
Dwarfs. The portable cannons of the Ogre
Leadbelchers are one-shot weapons packed with
black powder, sharp metal objects and even second-
hand cannon balls. Lit by thick fuses as the
Leadbelchers close in target, these weapons make one
hell of a noise, and a volley can cut down entire ranks
of troops.
Anyone left standing won't have time to recover before the Ogres are on them, swinging their
cannons the way lesser mortals might a morning star. Of course sometimes these cannons misfire,
and blow portions of the Ogre. In fact new units of Leadbelchers are looked down as novices until
they manage to maim themselves in some way!
Offensive: The portable cannons of the Ogre Leadbelchers are one-shot weapons packed with
black powder, sharp metal objects and even second-hand cannon balls. Lit by thick fuses as the
Leadbelchers close with their enemies, their weapons make one hell of a noise, and a volley can cut
down entire ranks of troops before the Ogres hit home. In melee they can be used as giant clubs.
Defensive: Light armor.
Mobility: 5
Training/Experience 6
Max Range: Various
Effective & Preferred Range: Various
The extremely diverse Maneaters are mercenary Ogres that travel the world, mastering the
various fighting styles of those lands. They then return and bring their experiences, weapons and
acquired culinary tastes back to the Ogre Tribe.
Maneaters inherit the cultures of the lands they visit rather than
spread their own. These mercenaries learn the fighting skills and
adopt the style of dress appropriate to the lands in which they fight.
In this manner, a Maneater that fought in the Grand Empire of
Cathay might wear fine cloth under lacquered bamboo armor and
wield a finely-balanced Cathayan longsword, a Maneater in the
Empire might wear breeches and an ostentatious feather with a
brace of huge pistols across his chest. A Maneater that fought
extensively in the jungles of Ind might go into battle decorated with
gold jewellery and wielding a finely crafted curved sword, whereas
and one that fought in the savage wastes of the far north might
have an extra arm or head to show off alongside his battle-scars. A
Maneater campaigning in the Southlands might go into battle as the
Savage Orcs do, that is, wearing an undersized loincloth, a gut-plate
and nothing else but smeary warpaint.
Offensive: Maneaters wear a highly diverse set of weapons from all over the world. If you can
imagine it as a Fantasy themed weapon, they probably have it. They also have a number of unique
experiences and tactics to bring to the battlefield.
Defensive: Light or heavy armor, in manner different styles.
Men of the Empire! Sons of Sigmar! Weinz ran back to his men and took his place next to the
standard bearer. Stand firm!
The men of the Empire trained daily in fighting as one. The world was full of creatures stronger, more
violent, unearthly and it was only by discipline, training and courage that the men of the Empire
managed to keep their foes at bay.
The ogres had seen them training. It was a wonder to them that the humans trained together. Of
course they sparred and fought, but never as a unit. They came out now, their banner at the fore,
trailing its dwarf beard pennants.
They were a stampede, dozens of ogres loping across the open ground. It was hard to pick a target, for
each was as terrifying as the others. One wielded a longsword of foreign design. Another had the skull
of a great beast slashed with twisted ropes of flesh onto a long club.
At their front came an ogre dressed in a suit of armour made from the flattened discs of dwarf helms.
He carried their banner, the crossbar fluttering with scraps of banners taken from across the Old
World: the fleur-de-lys of a Bretonnian duke, a grinning yellow moon, the proud arms of three great
Tilean houses, the white beards of dwarf kings, the horned skull of some terrible monster from the
dark woods and mountains. His mouth roared open, the words incomprehensible, but the meaning
death, terror and the joy of battle unmistakeable.
Captain Weinz lifted his double-barrelled pistol and pulled both triggers. There was a cloud of black
smoke, and at its heart was a tongue of red fire. All about him crossbows twanged and there were the
dull wet thuds of bolts driven through soft flesh.
Both of Weinzs shots hit a grey-haired ogre clean in the forehead. The beast crashed down like a
stunned ox. Sigmar, give me strength! Weinz whispered. He drew his sword, unhitched his steel
buckler from his belt and called to the men about him. His entire career flashed before him, his early
years as a rough recruit. The sergeant Ruskin who had made them march up and down till they
had worn through their bootsoles; a broken-nosed, hard drinking son of a daemon, who had turned
them from soft street boys and farmhands to men who could call themselves State Troopers with pride.
And his first battle when he had killed his first greenskin, the terror when its wolf leapt at him and the
man beside him had cut it down. All his battles, when he had faced all the threats to his race and met
them with faith in Sigmar and sharp cold steel.
The stench of the ogres hit him seconds before their thunderous charge.
The ogres hit the block of humans like an earthquake. The first to die, impaled on five pikes, was
Gezreth Headcracker, a hairy beast of the Skulltaker tribe who had served as a bodyguard for ten
years in Tilea before boredom and the scent of war had lured him north to join Golgfags band. He was
the only heir to his fathers crags, and now he would never avenge the tyrant who had killed his family
and driven him into exile.
Behind him raged Bozalg the Tremendous, his twin greatswords cleaving left and right, cutting
through men and wagons with ease. Bozalg leapt and landed on one the pike-staffs, snapping it like
kindling as he raged like a bull.
Skaff came behind him, bearing the banner. He had a cleaver in his free hand and chopped down at the
shaft of a blade that grazed his gutplate and ribs. The blow smashed the staff and the man who was
wielding it, but Skaff barely noticed. He could kill all day, they all could, and this was like smashing
dolls. The problem was that these dolls could fight. They had guns and cannons, and worse they had
Golgfag.
In the night, with the sickly light of Morrslieb casting eerie shadows, the Marshals Own Pikes held for
a maybe fifty heartbeats longer than anyone expected.
Training, experience and knowledge told them that they were safest in a unit, together, face to the
enemy, and most exposed when they turned their back and fled. This knowledge screamed at them to
hold fast. But the ogres ground them down with astonishing glee and speed. Friends and fellows were
eviscerated two at a time by a sword longer than a man was tall the drum-boy crushed into bloody
pulp by a cannonball mace and the standard bearer thrown thirty feet to the side by the swing of a
spiked tree-trunk club.
Everything called on the men of the Marshals Own to hold firm, but their terror shouted louder and
more insistently. They turned and fled, but the ogres leapt after them and they were trampled and
eaten and destroyed.
- Battle of Whitestone
Mobility: 7
Training/Experience 4
Max Range: Couple meters around their person (aura of

frost)
The Yhetee packs inhabit the highest slopes of the

Mountains of Mourn, eking out a sub-tribal existence at the
peaks of the mountains. These hairy, ferocious beasts are
almost invisible in the snow, as their matted, blood-flecked
pelt is generally very pale. Once, very long ago, they were
ogres before mutating into the hideous creatures seen in
the picture below. As a result of this mutation, they have
become attuned to the cold and the mountains.
Indeed, the Yhetee exude an aura of cold so powerful that

those attacked by them will find their limbs stiffen and
joints freeze, making them easy prey for these mountain predators. A Yhetee attack is inevitably
heralded by an avalanche (also the collective noun for a group of Yhetee), which the Yhetee will
trigger to deliberately trap their prey before stalking down the side of the mountains and digging
out their half-frozen victims with long, iron-hard talons.
Offensive: Yhettees wield deadly giant blocks of ice used as clubs and their claws are powerful
enough to tear off limbs. They also possess a aura of frost that deadens reaction time among nearby
foes..
Defensive: Mostly incredible durability.
Each of the beasts was many times as powerful as a man, and as if their fangs and claws were not
enough, many of them bore crude axes fashioned from tree limbs and ice. When one of the howling
monsters charged a marauder, the icy edge of its axe cut as cleanly through the mans neck as any
steel blade. Another Norscan had his axe and the arm that held it chopped in two by the sweep of a
yhetees crude weapon. Wulfrik
Mobility: 7
Max Range: Various
Gorgers are ogre runts that are abandoned at cave sites when
they are young, sealed inside and left to die. Some survive and
by eating the Warpstone deposites often found in these caves
can grow to be true monstrosities. These creatures grow up
with insatiable (even by Ogre standards) hunger, but with a
weakness towards the sun. Once exposed to the enemy they
attack with the bloodlust of minotaurs, armed with deadly
claws and jaws and a frenzied physique capable of
overpowering even a fellow ogre.
In combat they automatically head to wear the fighting is thickest, for they know that it is there that
the most meat can be found. They can also be used as bloodhounds to sniff out the enemy for their
nose can track a foe several miles away.
Offensive: The Gorger is a monstrous creature capable of overpowering other ogres, with a
incredible frenzied speed too. It has deadly claws and a jaw capable of stretching like a snake.
Defensive: It is a very durable creature but with no armor.

But before he could either quarrel or agree he noticed that the noise of the battle seemed to be dying
down. Not completely; the air was still tortured by the constant chorus of combat. The vanquished still
bellowed, and the victors still roared. Behind them, though, a hush had fallen over the other ranks.
And into that hush came the sound of Jarmooshs monsters.
Unlike normal ogres, their cursed brethren didnt roar as they charged into battle. Rather they
moaned, a low whine that was as hungry and constant as the north wind. Some of them chewed on
their own limbs in an effort to bite back the sound; decades of stealthy cannibalism had taught them
the value of silence. For most, though, the excitement was too much.
After lives spent hunting skinny vermin and bony youngsters through the subterranean
labyrinths of their prison, the smell of so much fresh blood was a promise of paradise.
They poured out of the crevasse in a stampede of slavering desire. The dwindling specks of the
two fleeing gnoblars were forgotten as, whimpering with hunger, they turned to the feast that had
appeared beneath their noses.
With neither fanfare nor challenge the cannibals hurried to gorge themselves on the back
ranks of Bashars line.
The lull that had fallen over the battlefield was shattered by a thousand warning cries. The
attackers line, which moments before had been rolling forward to certain victory, now found itself
caught between the hammer of blood-crazed monstrosities and the anvil of the Western tribes.
Crushed between two foes, they did what any ogres would do.
They fought on.
It was a mistake. To their front, their surviving enemies had neither the desire nor the
opportunity to give way. To the rear, their enemies were even more implacable.
It seemed that the gaunt, insect-like forms of the cannibals were made of steel. Blades bounced
over rubbery sinews or bones that shone through their emaciated hides. Even when the weapons of
Bashars followers did bite deep they were often dragged out of their owners hands, trapped by
wounds that acted like grasping maws.
Worse, no matter what damage they took, these voracious horrors seemed not to mind. All
they minded was eating, tearing great mouthfuls out of their enemies, or rending them with filth-
encrusted claws.- Wild Kingdoms
Mobility: 8
Max Range: Melee
Sabertusk Packs: Imagine a Sabertooth tiger but larger,

stealthier, more ruthless with giant tusks coming out of the
bottom of the mouth instead of the top. That is a Sabertusk and
the Ogres acknowledge that even the largest of their hunting
parties are not entirely safe from a Sabertusk pack. Only Ogre
Hunters can break and tame packs of these beasts.
In battle great packs of these creatures are used to tie up enemy

infantry as the Ogres move in, or else chase down stragglers.
Offensive: A bear sized beast with sharp saber-teeth.
Defensive: Innately durable, probably as durable as a bear.
My heart nearly gave out when something that resembles a bear, in much the same way a wolf
resembles a poodle, came out of the fissure. It ran towards us, pounding the snow with massive, clawed
paws. Its jaws were open wide, and thick ropes of saliva came out of the bear's mouth. We were
trapped, with an almost sheer drop behind us, and the caravans neatly barricading any retreat from
the fissure. It took me a while to realise it was not us who were trapped. Thrug released our straining
Sabretusk, and the thing bolted towards the cave bear like a tawny-furred streak of lightning.
The bear reared up, levelling a blow that would have torn the 'tusk in two if it had landed, but it did
not. The Sabretusk ripped upward with its tusks into the bear's belly, and was rewarded with a burst
of gore. The bear jumped back with surprising agility for something so
huge. The Sabretusk ran up the thing's back, leaving great claw marks in
its flanks, and clasped its jaws around the beast's neck as if it were trying
to bring down something the size of a horse. It did not work. The bear
swung its head violently, flinging the Sabretusk into the snow, and reared
up, its jaws open wide. There was a brief twang, and a barbed spear burst
through the cave bear's head, sticking grotesquely out of its upper jaw.
The harpoon was tied to a thick rope, and its owner, a black shape on the
slope above the fissure, yanked hard. Combined with the backward
momentum of the bear rearing up, this was enough to pull the beast onto
its back! It writhed for a second before a flint tipped spear the width of a
small oak tree thudded down into its soft belly. A second passed, and
another plunged down into its chest. Slowly, ever so slowly, the bear got
up. For a second, I thought it would survive against the odds, and renew
its horrible assault. But its chest heaved; it gave a great cough, spattering
blood across the snow and it slumped down, dead.
Mobility: 7
Training/Experience: 4=5
Max Range: Melee
The Ogres also deploy a devastating arsenal of

Cavalry. The first of which is the Mourningfang,
aggressive predators that are half Rhinox and half
Sabertusk. These creatures are feared, rightly, across
the land and the impact of their charge is powerful
enough to split a full grown Ogre in half. Rarely Ogres
manage to tame such creatures, but once they do
Mouringfangs become almost unstoppable on the
battlefield.
When they do smash into an enemy, the powerful

Mournfangs chomp, slash and stamp the foe whilst the
Ogres lay about them, swinging ponderous clubs to
bludgeon the foe. The results are devastating, with the
fallen not just slain, but utterly pulverized, pounded into the bloody ground by a profusion of heavy
blows. Although whole units of Mournfang Cavalry can usually secure the victory of any battle they
are engaged in, these brutes and their gigantic steeds do not come cheap, and the Tyrants or
paymasters of the victorious side often note a profound feeling of loss when the spoils of war are
shared out.
Powered by thick haunches of purest muscle, Mournfangs surge towards the foe at a speed faster
than their muscle-bulked frames would suggest, not slowed in the least by the large Ogre or saddle
atop its hairy back. Protected by thick skin and coarse shaggy hair, enemy arrows bounce off the
oncoming beast or ping off the Ogre's armor as harmless as hailstones. When they do smash into an
enemy, the powerful Mournfangs chomp, slash and stamp the foe whilst the Ogres lay about them,
swinging ponderous clubs to bludgeon the foe. The results are devastating, with the fallen not just
slain, but utterly pulverised, pounded into the bloody ground by a profusion of heavy blows.
Offensive: Moourningfang is a great saber tusked beast capable of mauling or crushing the enemy.
The ogre riders can come with mighty clubs and glaives, and the leaders might also have pistols.
Defensive: The Mourningfang has an exceptionally thick hide. The Ogres might wear light or heavy
armor.
Mobility: 7
Max Range: Various
Imagine giant wholly rhinoceros, each taller, stronger and

larger than a modern rhino with twice the belligerent. The
largest, the Bull Rhinoxs, are described as nearly as tough to
knock down as a Steam tank. Now imagine a giant ogre on
each of their backs, carrying massive iron clubs. Their charges
are legendary and in one instance a small herd of Rhinoxes
ground several thousand tomb king skeletons to dust in short
order.
The Ironskin tribe has, through a unique innovation, acquired almost a monopoly on this unit
through one simple genius (for an ogre) innovation- the realization that hitting a Rhinox in the head
with metal hurts more than hitting it with wood. This brilliant deduction means that almost Rhinox
riders hails from the Ironskin tribe. Due to this comparable rarity (to the Mourningfang Cavarly)
their services do not come cheap and many paymasters have been seen openly weeping over how
much they cost. The results, however, cannot be denied.
Offensive: Imagine a giant rhinoceros, larger than our real world equivalent, charging a given
position in a giant herd. The Ogre rider, who can be equipped from anything to giant clubs to
Ironfists to enormous swords, is just icing on the cake.
Defensive: The Rhino is extremely durable with a very thick hide. The
Ogre on top might be armored in either leather or, if he can afford it,
heavy plate.
Mobility: 5
Max Range: Melee
The most recent invention of the Ironskins is known was the Ironblaster. The Ironblaster is
perhaps the largest black powder weapon in the Old World. These immense cannons were once
used by the Sky-titans in their great wars and now, many years later, the Ogres have claimed them
as their own. Big Ogres require big weapons, and so the Ironblaster is a suitably large centerpiece
for an Ogre Kingdoms collection. The cannon is several times larger than any human cannon in
Warhammer and, though it takes a while to load and is a bit dangerous to do so, the cannon blast
has a much greater radius than any human device.
When deployed in battle, the Ironblaster is hauled into a good shooting position before blasting out
a fiery tongue of flame and a thunderous boom. The multiple cannon balls are able to tear apart
a whole regiment in a maelstrom of noise and violence, especially should the Ironblaster get in
close. The advantage of getting close is that, with the right encouragement of a few stiff prods, the
Rhinox can strain enough to really get the Ironblaster wagon moving quickly. Something that large
with so much momentum can really pack a wallop when it hits. If the sheer impact doesn't smash
the foe, perhaps the Ogre's blows or the gouging horns of the Rhinox can finish the job.
However er there is some unreliability. The cannon might jam, the rhinox might spook or it could
even blow up in the midst of battle.
Offensive: Cannon of the Sky-titans: The cannon of the Sky- titans, despite being crudely pressed
into service by the Ogres, is actually a very robust and sophisticated example of its kind. It can fire
whole clutches of cannonballs at once, allowing it to do a tremendous amount of damage,
although the range of such attacks is limited.
The Ironblaster has a Leadbelcher and a Gnoblar for crew and of course the Rhinox mount.
Defensive: The Crew might have some light armor and the Rhinox is rather durable.
Mobility: 7
Max Range: Melee
Stonehorns are massive, horned, woolly beasts endemic to the Mountains of Mourn, that
the Ogres tame and use in battle. They are massive beasts of muscle and violence, each several
times the size of a Rhinox and - if it can be believed - several times as dense. Intelligence is of little
import to these great beasts however, for each Stonehorn is quite literally a living fossil, its skeleton
hardened by the same rock as the mountains where it makes its home. As legendary as their
hardiness is their belligerence; in fact it is said that a Stonehorn will take any opportunity to
headbutt something to death and trample its corpse into paste. Such is its colossal mass that the
impact of its charge is like a boulder plummeting from a mountaintop, a deadly combination of
weight, momentum and a bad temper.
When used in combat a Stonehorn is a linebreaker of incredible power. There are tales of it
knocking stone watchtowers flat, squishing armored dwarfs, knocking down giants and other,
incredible feats. Fortunately, Stonehorns are incredibly rare creatures.
Offensive: The StoneHorn has an incredible shattering charge so powerful, it can knock down
mighty walls and tear through entire regiments. Its beast rider wields a Clantrap, which essentially
comprise a huge steel mantrap attached to a lengthy chain.
Defensive: The Stonetalon has skin of crystals that even Dwarf made weapons find difficulty
getting through. Even if such weapons do get through, they have skelatons of stone allowing them
to further endure damage. Their only real weakpoint is the eyes.
Mobility: 7
Thundertusks are creatures of ice and doom, ancient

monsters that strode the darkest ages long ago, when the
world was frozen over. Retreating from the sudden warming
of the sun, the forefathers of these mammoth beasts headed
to the northern plains where they became saturated in the
magic that was unleashed in those strange lands during the
Great Catastrophe. Imbued by those unnatural winds, the
Thundertusks became living embodiments of cruel and
ever-enduring winter, primordial things from a long-
forgotten past. Their hulking mass exudes an aura, a subzero
blast of arctic air so cold it congeals blood and freezes their prey. Thundertusks advance as
relentlessly as a winter storm, using their numbing airs to slow their victims down, allowing the
beasts to bring their cumbersome but crushing mass to be
When an Ogre tames one of these things, it tames a massive, 20 ton creature capable of stomping a
whole regiment flat. But the Thundertusk is not just deadly up close, where it can stomp its frozen
foes flat. A Thundertusk's horns attract the elemental power of magic like a lightning conductor.
The beast's icy breath mixes with this sorcerous flux, coalescing into swirling spheres of eldritch
energy and jagged shards of ice. With a sound akin to the peal of a thunderclap, the Thundertusk
can hurl these frozen orbs of arctic air across the battlefield. Upon impact, the glowing sphere of
frost shatters, sending lightning-wreathed icicles spinning through the air. The shards scythe into
any exposed flesh, cutting bloody holes into anything within a wide radius. This can also
freeze distant victims, slowing them down and keeping them in place to allow the gargantuan
creature to close. The resulting tusk charge, not to mention the massive stomping feet, will shatter
just about any foe into fragments.
In battle, Thundertusks are used to blast the foe with ranged attacks and to lend support to the
main Ogre battle line. Towering high above the heads of all but the tallest combatants, the
Thundertusk and its crew unleash a hail of fire even as they advance upon the foe. A Thundertusk
will often aim to crash into the enemy lines at the same time as the bulk of the Ogre attack,
supporting their bonecrunching charge with its own chilling aura of frozen doom, sending waves of
freezing air that lap around its mammoth hide, slowing all who dare approach the great beast.
Offensive: Thundertusks are capable of manifesting spheres of ice and then firing them off at the
enemy at longbow range. In combat they use their incredible bulk, tusks and strength to bulldozer
through enemy lines. The Thundertusks have two riders, one armed with a chaintrap and the other
a harpoon launcher.
Defensive: The Thundertusk is a massive beast with thick hide and skin. It also has a chill aura that
slows down enemies around it by deadening their reaction time.
Hours later the snow had not let up and, if anything, had intensified. The winds, too, had picked up
and the air itself had an unnatural chill. Visibility was so poor that only when the Ranger Captain
cursed loudly and beat for the stone gate to be opened did they realise that the mountaineers had
returned. As Durrik had forebode, the report was grim. There was a howling in the wind that sounded
like some hunting beast, but nothing they had heard before. The Rangers had worked their way
eastwards along the road when they had heard heavy stomping coming towards them and, listening,
they felt the stone roadway tremble as something titanic moved their way. Whatever it was, it wasn't
far behind. Then they felt it a deep rumbling shake.
They were Dwarfs, used to the mountains and stones beneath their feet and so they knew, as the
Rangers had said this was no earthquake or avalanche, but was instead something large coming up
the Silver Road. The heavy plodding of gigantic feet was coming closer. The watchpost was ready
the stone ports were opened and the cannons run out. Dwarfs peered into the falling snow for a sign of
something. Then, like a catapult shot of pure ice, great wintery blasts began to batter into the stone
faced tower. At first the Dwarfs laughed, for boulders could not budge their impenetrable stronghold,
much less giant snowballs but that grim laughter died in their beards, or froze rather. A deep chill,
a glacial freezing, followed the exploding shards and the Dwarfs, who prided themselves on their tough
ruggedness, shivered. The stones themselves groaned and cracked the rock itself was freezing cold. '
Ogres!' the Dwarfs cried, and the crack of Thunderers and cannon fire blasted into that stormy night.
Then something huge loomed out of the snow, a primordial beast that had walked the frozen earth
before the sun had any warmth. Bull-like, it charged the cliff-face in which the watchpost was carved,
its enormous tusks smashing into the now-brittle rock. The stronghold was breached and great chunks
of the rock fell. The Thundertusk began to feed, sifting through the broken rocks to pluck out the fallen
Dwarfs. In moments, the watchpost was just piled rubble and a broken rockface, and the road
westwards was clear for the Ogre army to stomp through. There was no stopping them now.
Mobility: 5
Max Range: 20 meters (Thrown Spear)
Hunters are rugged Ogre exiles(willing or not) who travel the

Mountains of Mourn hunting the most savage beasts of the land in
one of the most unforgiving climates. To ward off the severe cold of
high altitude, Hunters dress in layers of skins and pelts and can also
be recognized for their tendency to carry an arsenal of weapons,
trapping gear, and skinning knives. Rare and solitary, hunters will nevertheless appear for a Ogre
tribe when the whim takes them, bringing their fantastic weaponry, tracking skills and packs of
trained Saberfangs to battle.
They are rare and it is rare to see more than one or two at once in a army.
Offensive: Ogre Hunters carry multiple great throwing spears, capable of hurling them at 100
meters. They are also accompanied by Blood Vultures which are massive birds of prey used as
scouts before battle and who swoop down with deadly claws during it. Numerous other weapons
might be found on their person including clubs, great weapons, iron fists, harpoon launchers.
Occasionally, they might mount a Stonehorn.
Defensive: Light leather armor.
I had to bury many brave souls today. We were ambushed, this time by Ogres. Believe me when I tell
you that it is a world apart from being ambushed by mere Gnoblars. Initially, we saw a good dozen
Ogres walking down the slope ahead of us, and we were heartened, for Thrug had sent one of the
Hunter's gaggle of Gnoblars ahead to let the tribe know we were passing through their lands. At first
we assumed that this posse of Ogres was a welcoming party, or at least that they came to trade with
us. We could not have been more wrong.
As they walked towards us, Thrug cried out a greeting, sounding to me like a great barking shout. He
was lighting some sort of foul-smelling cigar, presumably in celebration. But his call was not
answered. As the Ogres approached us, calmly and surely, we began to feel the cold a little more
keenly. They were not replying. They just kept on marching towards us. They really were awfully large,
especially the obese brute at their centre, all folds of flab and muscle, who wore a chainmail veil over
his armoured head. As he came closer I could make out the two rough eye-slits cut into the veil. There
was something about his walk that did not sit well with me, not well at all.
I threw caution to the wind, calling the alarm and marshalling the soldiery we had left to our defence.
The cannon was unshackled, but by this time the approaching Ogres were breaking into a run. They
closed ranks, virtually treading on each other's toes as they picked up pace, a wall of muscle and steel
that would surely hit us with the force of a steam tank. I fired my flintlock at one of the oncoming
brutes, scoring a hit, but I feel I may have only made him angry. With my heart in my mouth, I waited
till the last second and launched myself from the buckboard over the Ogres' heads, somehow clearing
them. Perhaps fear lent me wings. I don't feel any shame in telling you I was petrified. A noise like a
battery of cannon discharging announced the death of the caravan, and as I hit the ground our own
Ogre mercenaries counter-attacked, and the scene erupted into chaos.
I tried to scamper out of harm's way, praying that I didn't get trodden on or, worse still, noticed. I saw
a scarred, barrel-chested brute bring a two-handed scimitar the length of a rowboat down into the
quartermaster's carriage, breaking it apart and sending planks of wood in all directions. I saw one
Ogre bringing a petrified, whinnying horse down onto poor Getsev and Ilfric. Another barged past me,
chasing after a screaming Ergo, only to receive Thrug's ironfist right in the throat. The blow was so
powerful it took him off his feet.
I remember Ulisse, the Tilean duellist who had fought with Frederico for years, nimbly climbing up the
wreckage of a caravan to thrust his rapier into one of the ambushing Ogre's ears, to no noticeable
effect. Releasing his sword, the Tilean kicked its hilt with all his might, and it was only when the blade
came out of the Ogre's other ear that the brute slowly toppled over and fell to the floor. The battle
raged on, and soon there was as much red snow on the road as there was white. To my shame, I confess
I tried to make myself hidden, even trying to burrow into the snow, for the carnage was incredible.
Not only that, but our own Ogres were badly outnumbered. One of them was laying about himself with
a great slashing sword far too finely crafted to be Ogre-made, but Ogre-sized nonetheless. He was
keeping three of the ambushers at bay. But the veiled brute that led our assailants was like a force of
nature. Disarmed by a lucky blow, I watched him wrench the metal- banded axle from an upturned
caravan he just ripped it clean out, one-handed and start laying about himself with it, knocking
two of our mercenaries onto their backs before kicking a third in the kneecaps so hard the iron-shod
boot nearly took his leg off.
I cried out it looked like Thrug's lieutenant, Grutsk, was ransacking the caravan rather than
defending what was left of our expedition. Then suddenly Grutsk wrenched something free, a great
metal barrel, and threw it hard at Thrug. Thrug caught it easily, and there was a moment's
incomprehension as Thrug spun it round and pointed it at the obese brute smashing his way through
the fight towards him. I realised that what Thrug had in his mouth was not a cigar after all, but a
taper. He dipped his burnscarred head, bringing the taper to the touchhole of his blackened cannon,
and with a tremendous explosion it fired. The enemy leader's own head burst apart in a spray of blood,
fragments of thick bone scything out in all directions. His headless body swayed, standing free for a
second before its knees gave, and with them the resolve of the ambushing Ogres. They loped off into the
snow, the jeers of our proud Maneaters ringing in their ears. A victory of sorts.
But without a caravan, without provisions and without any real way to control these brutes, I have to
ask myself how long can we survive out here? The future is looking decidedly bleak.
Mobility: 5
Max Range: 7 meters (vomit)
In the Northern wastes of the world a

race of bestial humanoids known as
trolls roam, infamous for both savagery
and stupidity. These creatures are
usually 2-3 times a mans height but
with the largest big enough to swallow
an ox whole. Though afflicted by Chaos
are said to be further mutated, often
with extra claws or increased girth
.With an appetite that is even more
voracious then the ogre it is said there
is nothing they will not eat.
Trolls are attracted to men of Chaos and

the mark of Chaos solely because of the
fact that were these men go, lots of
bodies follow. It is thanks to that little facet that men of Chaos are able to entice these trolls into
battle alongside them, offering those snacks in the form of slaves and the weakest of their
group until battle is reached.
In battle these creatures are driven into enemy lines by the goading of their king or hosts. Once
there the Troll needs little further encouragement as the pummel, claw, vomit, and hack through
the enemy with enhanced strength and regeneration. Troll bile is legendary; being acidic enough to
eat through armor and man in one go.
Among trolls there is a small subset of them, descendent from an ancient troll conqueror, that eons
ago were embraced by Nurgle. These creatures have been wracked by just about every disease
Nurgle could inflict upon them. Though they survive thanks to their powerful regeneration they
suffer endlessly from their afflictions and yearn to spread their disease among enemies.
Chaos Trolls are highly honoured in the eyes of the Changer of the Ways, for rarely does any creature
combine mutation with such natural size, power, and sheer vitality. Yes, a
Chaos Giant may be larger, but a Chaos Troll is so brim-full of life and
energy as to be almost impossible to kill. Knock it down, and it comes back
stronger and angrier than ever. Much like Chaos itself. Drakar Neth
Shyish, the Fist of Chen, also known as Drakar the Questioner
Offensive:
Regular Chaos Trolls attack with claws, biting, and sometimes

additional claws and tentacles and other mutations that grow out of
them. Might also be smart enough to wield clubs , axes or cleavers, with
one humorous example in Kinslayer wielding a dead Chaos Warrior as a
weapon. As a short ranged projectile attack they can vomit up acidic
bile, flesh eating worms, or even the pure stuff of change itself,
mutating their foes.
Bile Trolls attack with claw, maw and sometimes blades coated with a poisonous touch both
incredibly virulent and plague inducing. Instead of unleashing acidic bile, they instead vomit up a
stream of plagues and maggots upon
the enemy, causing terrible infection.
They are at least as strong as a ogre
and can easily rip a man in half.
Norscan Ice Trolls, a variant seen in

Norsca, specialize in icy environments
and can breathe icy shards onto their
opponents, essentially functioning like
a short ranged freeze ray.
Defensive: Chaos trolls have

incredible regeneration, able to
grow back whole limbs, even
survive decapitation, in seconds.
Worse these are Chaos Trolls, so their
new limbs are now heavily mutated
and the troll grows more monstrous the longer it fights. Essentially in order to kill it you must deal
it countless minor blows at once or many major ones to overwhelm regeneration.or hit it with
fire, which completely undermines regeneration.
Bile Trolls have a weaker brand of regeneration thanks to all their diseases taxing their ability to
regenerate. However they are shrouded in leprous spores and flies, which hurt enemy ability to
target them.
Trolls are world-renowned for their stupidity and are incredibly easy to trick with some
characters convincing them to set themselves up for deadly attacks or even turn on allies. An
example below
You know how charcoal burnings done, right? You make yourself a big low bonfire in the forest, then
heap earth atop it so it just smoulders away by itself for days, never quite burning out. Then you pull
the earth off the top and youre left with charcoal underneath. Troll leapt out one time when I was in
the woods with Wilhelm the charcoal-burner. The Troll grabbed Wilhem from behind, its hand round
his throat like an iron collar. I was scared out of my skin, but I knew a Troll was probably stupider
than me so I thought fast. Hoping to save us both I told it I could get it some tastier food. Id heard that
a Troll will eat anything, see, so I told it that the mound of earth we were tending was a creature we
were farming, an earth monster that was a particularly tasty dish. It dropped Wilhelm onto the forest
floor and just knelt down to take a great big gulp of earth, not realizing it was swallowing a load of
burning wood in the same mouthful. It dropped to the ground clutching its belly, smoke pouring out of
its mouth, and I cut its head off with my axe before it could recover. I looked to Wilhelm, but he was
gone; the Troll had crushed his throat to a pulp before it dropped him. Fritz Bodger, Forester
Mobility: 5
We ruled this domain before your race was born. We shall still rule it when you are but a distant
memory. Long have we fought for the Dark Forces you call your gods. It would be a grave error to
mistake us for servants simply because we have a common cause in their name. Warriors of Chaos
8e
You have new toys since last I strode the world. New devices to deal out death. How wonderfully
inventive you Humans are. Now let me show you some old fashioned slaughter and we will judge
between the two. Brozak, Dragon Ogre
In the ancient past, before the sudden burst of Chaos and even before the arrival of the Old Ones,
the Dragon Ogres ruled a vast civilization. Alas even though the Slann and their masters ignored
them, the Dragon Ogres began to die slowly die off. In desperation the leaders of this race tried
everything in their power to stave off this fate. When Chaos mysteriously arrived, they found a
means. An unholy pact was made, and in return for mortality the Chaos Gods gained a race of
immortal servants for the rest of time.
Since then they have alternated between slumbering for hundreds of years-for they cannot be killed
except by violence- and fighting for large legions of the followers of Chaos. These towering
creatures, easily a couple times taller than a man, are among the most powerful servants Chaos
has. Many a battle has been won when these creatures came crashing through enemy ranks.
Dragon Ogres can potentially have thousands of years of experience and their physique is such
that few non-gigantic enemies could match them in strength. They come with the call of the storm,
bathing in lightning in a literal fashion before
attacking. Such is their affinity with electricity
that they can absorb it no matter the source,
and are immune to such attacks.
===Load Out==
Offensive: They are known to carry enormous

swords, axes and halberds into battle, as well as
being physically strong enough to break apart
other large creatures. However their reaction
time is sluggish.
Defensive: Dragon Ogres wear light leather

armor and have tough, durable, scaly skin as
the means of their main defense. This is in
addition to being tough, durable foes in their own right. As mentioned above lightning attacks do
not hurt them.
==Additional Factors=
Dragon Ogres look at all other mortal races with contempt, even fellow servants of Chaos. To them
these lesser races seem to have short lives and kingdoms, for in the time of the Dragon Ogres
countless civilizations rise and fall. Perhaps the one race they have anything other than contempt
for is daemons, and that contempt turns to fear. A Dragon Ogre would have nothing to do with a
daemon if possible.
A group of armoured Chaos knights stood alongside countless Beastmen and on their flank stood a
group of those legendary beings known as Dragon Ogres. Those with a greater taste for conflict than I
could tell you more of that terrible battle. I remember it as being an appalling affair that I only wished to
survive through. At the height of it, the Dragon Ogres ploughed into General Kromachs bodyguard and
Ulamar sought to stop them by unleashing lightning from the heavens, proving that he had never
bothered to study our foe. Dragon Ogres consume naught but lightning. They went absolutely berserk as
the energy from Ulamars spell coursed over them. They slaughtered the General, all of his men, and
Ulamar in less time than it takes me to tell it. I obviously managed to survive the battle, if only just. Keep
to your studies and think before you act my lads or you will never live to tell such tales. Aponymous
Rone, Master Wizard of the College of Light
Mobility: 6
Warped and malign creatures, Chaos Dwarf Bull Centaurs

are, as their name suggests, twisted amalgams of Chaos
Dwarf and ferocious bull in aspect, the unnatural fusion
creating hulking, monstrous beasts far larger than either and
filled with cannibalistic appetites. Many centuries ago, during
the Time of Chaos, a fraction of those that survived the
onslaught became horrifically mutated, their stubborn Dwarf
resistance to the warping taint was overwhelmed utterly by
the awful energies to which they were subjected, and so the
first Bull Centaurs were born. They came to serve their wider
kin as shock troops and temple guardians, and to them was entrusted the protection of the
sacred fines of Hashut, as they more than any other had been twisted into the closest semblance of
the Father of Darkness' image.
Into each successive generation of Chaos Dwarfs a handful of new blessed kin has been born
usually to the death of their unfortunate mothers and such children are given over immediately to
the Sorcerers to serve in turn. This number however has not proven enough and Hashut's inventive
priesthood have wielded their dark arts to make more, tampering with their offspring using horrific
magics, and even fusing them into frameworks of metal and daemon tainted flesh to swell the ranks
of their temple guardians.
As well as serving as temple guardians, the Bull Centaurs are also entrusted with dangerous tasks
by their masters who trust them implicitly. They are hulking, savage creatures whose strength`
and endurance far exceeds that of a Chaos Dwarf, and thanks to their strange forms they are far
swifter in battle. As they age, their flesh hardens and distorts almost to the consistency of a living
metal, and rather than heal naturally from injuries, they must instead rely upon their Sorcerer-
masters to repair their wounds with poultices of molten mercury, steel sutures and brazen splints.
Although as keen-witted and intelligent as their Chaos Dwarf brethren and utterly devoted to the
worship of Hashut, their Father of Darkness, they are even swifter to anger, and are often
otherwise preoccupied with a great hunger for flesh. A good number of the slave sacrifices
bound for Hashut's temples will actually be rent apart, limb-from-limb at the Bull Centaurs' holy
feasts, as while slave meat is a common fare for the Chaos Dwarfs, the Bull Centaurs prefer their
meals both alive and screaming.
Among their number are the potent

Taurruks; massive and ancient,
they are commanders of the Chaos
Dwarf legions and heralds of
Hashut. In battle these strapping
monstrosities lead entire battalions
of Bull Centaurs in an unstoppable
onslaught of trampling hooves and
steel wielding sinew.
--With Credit to Mathias Ellisons

codex for the awesome description.
===Load Out==
Offensive: Bull Centaurs can carry

great axes, spears, swords, mauls and
other such heavy weapons into
battle. The mighty Taurruk can have
something magical for weaponry (see
Damonsmith, though not their best items).
Defensive: They have heavy mail or plate armor as well as tough scaly skin. Some might also have
shields. The Taurruk can be equipped with Blackshard armor and potentially something magical
for armor
Mobility: (Variable: can move at a sloth's pace or as

fast as a horse)
Max & Preferred Range: Melee
"Then came the one called 'Gibberkin'
No fouler thing have I ever witnessed."
-Khargar, Beastman, of the Blood Axe tribe
The powers of Chaos are fickle, elemental creatures
that might, on a moments notice, raise up or doom
their followers. Nowhere is this trait demonstrated
more than with the Chaos Spawn. These are Chaos
human warriors or Beastmen who have received one
too many mutations, and have consequently lost their
intelligence; becoming slavering wrecks that unfortunately still have some memory of what they once
were. They are so mutated that they are nearly beyond description, but all of them seem to have
numerous flailing tentacles and appendages.
Neither the Warriors of Chaos nor Beastmen have any actual control over
these creatures. Many roam the country side attacking whatever they
see, and thus many Chaos Spawn end their days against a larger and more
desperate beast, impaled on many swords, or even ripped asunder by all
the mutations their bodies have endured.
During times of war the Beastmen and Warriors of Chaos lure these
creatures into their armies. Chaos forces carefully keep the spawn
corralled until battle whereupon they can be unleashed upon the enemy
to invoke great destruction. Like the powers that doomed them the
spawn can be random in applications; sometimes they move towards
friendly forces for instance, but most of the time to the enemy.
Sometimes they move at a speed of a wheelchair bound old man, other
times they get bursts of speed that might even exceed a cheetah on full
gallop. Upon crashing into enemy lines their flailing appendages claim
many as the warrior inside the spawn, that tiny coherent part, lusts for
death. For this reason Chaos Spawn will never retreat.
There were three of them, their bulk so great that they could not stand side-by-side in the narrow, bone
strewn corridor. Firelight shone on glistening, gelatinous flesh, shot through with thin, black veins and
throbbing with unnatural strength. They had lean, powerful bodies similar to those of lions, their broad
paws tipped with glossy, black claws, but their heads were like bloated octopi. The closest one to the fire
reared back on its paws, its soft, bulbous skull pulsing with rage as it lashed the air with eight long, whip-
like tentacles. Hundreds of suckers lined each tentacle, each one fitted with a barbed hook for trapping
and shredding prey. At the center of the mass of tentacles a cruel, glossy beak snapped furiously at the
offending flame, unleashing a torrent of thin shrieks and gobbling cries.
The man beside Malus screamed like a child, and the Chaos beasts attacked.
The lead hunter bounded over the pool of flame and leapt for the screaming man, as if drawn by the
sound. Its tentacles made a whirring sound in the
air as they lashed at the terrified Druichi. One
slashed across the mans face, shredding the skin
and muscle beneath as if they were rotted cloth.
The stench of brine and rotted meat filled Malus
nostrils, making him gag. More tentacles
wrapped around the hapless Druichi, in the blink
of an eye, enfolding him and pulling him from his
feet. Wet, tearing sounds emanated from within
the writhing web of fleshy ropes, and the
druchiis frenzied screams of agony made Malus
blood run cold. -Warpsword
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Claws, teeth and an unknown
amount of tentacles that allows them to fight
several foes at once. That list is not exhaustive
and indeed far weirder mutations exist. Your imagination is the limit.
Defensive: Thanks to all the unknown mutations, they are usually extremely durable though in too
many ways to name. An example might be a tentacle monster with redundant organs, tough-scaly skin
and flailing tentacles.
Chaos Spawn possess their own modified versions of Marks of Chaos. Spawns of Tzeentch breathe fire,
Nurgle's attacks are poisoned and Slaanesh's can move faster than the others in combat. In the case of
the spawn of Khorne, the ability to launch a devastating charges(in addition to their other traits)
Some have earned the classification of Great Chaos Spawn, which has all the traits of a regular spawn
but doubled, meaning more tentacles, limbs, and general Chaos weirdness. These great spawn are
generally rare.
However Chaos Spawn are only uncommon and worse can be created frequently on campaign ,
particularly in high level corruption zones as greater numbers of servants of Chaos, neutral figures and
even the enemy are overwhelmed by mutations.
Standing slightly taller than a man, Elves are considered superior in many respects. They have better
hearing, vision (including seeing
at night), dexterity, reaxction
time, agility and accuracy. Lithe
and graceful, no human acrobat
can match even most of the least
of the Elven versions. They
possess a degree of focus and
depth of insight that can make
them seem strange and fey to
other races, though it also allows
them to master combat in a way
other races struggle to. Thanks
to their long years many carry
decades or even centuries of
combat resistance with them.
Elves are often portrayed as

creatures as antithetical to Chaos
as they are in their Sci-Fi
counterpart, or the Elves of
Tolkien against the shadow of Mordor. There is a lot truth to this, though not wholly. It is true that the
Elven race has a major resistance on account of indomitable pride, long lifespans and a mindset that is,
by and large, alien to most aspects of Chaos. The subset known as the Druichi- a cruel, treacherous
breed- suffers from a malformity of the soul however they are not corrupted.
Previously the main Chaos god who had any pull on the Elven race was Slaanesh, who like in 40k is said
to consume Elven souls upon death. As Elves pursue extremes of emotions it is common throughout
their history for pleasure cults to emerge through groups of like-minded thrill seekers grouping
together to pursue ever more exotic and extreme acts of indulgence. Historically whenever these
pleasure cults have been discovered by Elven authorities, whether Druichi or Asur or Asrai, the
response has been to put them down violently.
However in rejecting Slaanesh these early Elves saw fit to choose another god as a patron; the God of
Blood and Murder, Khaine. Elves of all sorts have had a historical relationship with this god, for in the
ancient times it was Khaine that helped empower Aenarion to his legendary demi-god like status. In
return for this exchange the murder god has left an imprint on every Elven soul. The Asrai and Asur do
their best to suppress this urge, or else embrace the more native side of themselves to a greater extent.
It is only in Druichi lands however that Khaine worship had become endemic and eventually dominated
their society.
Many observers have commented on the similarity between Khaine and Khorne. The difference,
according to Druichi, is one of control. A Khainite is supposed to hold their bloodlust in until either ritual
or battle; a Khornate has no stipulations and is likened to a mad dog. Lapses of discipline are relatively
easy mistakes to make, and the Tomb of Corruption notes that Druichi have fallen to the path of the
Blood God before. These were suppressed like the pleasure cults. It wasnt until the End Times and
extreme manifold of Khornes power, along with the final death of Khaine, that the entire cult of Khaine
was subverted entirely to Khornes will.
Led by Hellebron the Cult of Khaine is primarily Druichi composed, but also retains elements of Asur and
Asrai as well. At the point taken they were a fairly common in the remaining elves, the only real religious
institution to survive the fall of Ulthuan. Numbering in the thousands at least the newly christened Cult
of the Blood Queen had lost its previous finesse, used as a blunt instrument in much the same manner
as the Skaramor (Though if Hellebron is there, shell try to use others as fodder for her force before
committing her elves).
The vast majority of the force suffers from the Madness of Khaine (or now Khorne), an affliction that
sometimes in the heat of battle causes them to turn on their allies. These wounds are made more
deadly by the tendency of the entire force to carry highly poisonous weaponry. In the event Hellebron
is killed or is forced to leave early, there is a chance the bloodlust could leave the less consumed elves of
the force, restoring sanity.
When the Cult of Blood gets going, it can be an awe-inspiring force. Once a couple thousand of them
marched across the old world, defeating armies of a half dozen factions before finally being defeated by
the Tomb Kings after they ran out of blood to spill.
Sub-units found in this force include:
Mobility: 5
The Witch Elves of Khaine are known for their great

cruelty and lust for blood. In both rituals and the heat of
battle they have a reputation for pulling the still-beating
hearts out of foes, or else disembowel someone and
drape themselves in their entrails. This desire carries over
to pre-battle, where they drink blood laced with
poisonous herbs to drive themselves in a spectacular
frenzy. Like the berserkers of Khorne they always claimed
to have disdained this drives them into a state where they completely ignore their own defense, diving
into enemy lines in a whirlwind of blades, blood and gore. Any enemies still alive at the end of battle
are physically torn apart in the post-battle celebration.
Witch Elves are led by Death Hags, the priestesses of the order. These are the ones who mix the brews
pre-battle that drives their unit to fight with such fury. Sometimes they create Witchbrew, a concoction
that drives the elves into a supernatural frenzy that causes them to attack with speed normally
unheard of even for an elf, but what makes them next to impossible for commanders to control.
Others might carry supernatural runes that magnify the potency of their weapons or else invoke fear in
her foes.
Offensive: Two long knives or other sort of blades. The Death Hag might have a magical weapon.
Defensive: Other than sometimes having

the sense to dodge they wear no body
armor. These warriors come to battle
with very little clothes worn.
The Death Hag might come mounted on

a Cauldron of Blood.
Mobility: 5
A Har Ganeath executioner is an artist at work,

a specialist who has dedicated his entire life to
the mastery of one aspect of combat; the art of
the killing blow, the execution. Practicing on
countless captives before moving their way up
to the battlefield the executioner quickly comes
to earn his or her title. Unlike much of the rest of
the Druichi contingent here they are not
butchers but rather cold-blooded murderers.
The Executioners are not interested in torture
only in perfecting the most efficient execution.
It takes decades for an Executioner to perfect his

chosen moves, to discover the little minute
details like the precise angle of the chosen strike
or whether splinters of bone might spoil the
move. But in the end the training makes them
legends across Naggarond and beyond. It is said
that a fully trained Executioner knows how to
kill any creature in the world in but a single blow, whether its decapitation, a heart stab or
disembowelment.
Offensive: Executioners wield Draiches, finely forged blades that become an extension of their own
bodies. Sometimes this weapon is carved in the form of a spear, a sword or an axe or even more exotic
weapons. All are deadly, efficient weapons with the power to bypass armor quite effectively.
Defensive: Steel Armor

Mobility: 5
The Sisters of Slaughter are the Wyches of

Warhammer Fantasy, for any those are familiar
with the 40k equivalent. Lithe, fast and with a
need to prove themselves, the Sisters of
Slaughter travel the world to throw themselves
against the most worthy of enemies. Daemons,
Elves, Dwarfs etc. it does not matter. Only that
the enemy fights and gives them a challenge; a
Sister will not run down cowardly fleeing foes if
there is any other foe around they can fight.
Nothing else; no treasure or loot, slaves or
power matters to them. Only the thrill of the
slaughter and the challenge of worthy battle.
Once, every Druichi city had an amphitheater

dedicated to only showcasing the skills of these
Blood Queens. Now, with Naggarond in ruins
and the End Times in full force, the Sisters of
Slaughter have taken the opportunity to enjoy
fighting some of the most diverse and powerful
enemies the world has to offer. Many have
been slain but still many contingents continued to exist at the point the profile is used. While not all of
them joined Hellebrons defection, quite a few did as the Sisters really care nothing else except
slaughter. However they were a rare elite unit in better times, something made only worse now.
Offensive: All manner of blades, which is fitting since the Sisters of Slaughter worship a god of blades.
They are also extremely lithe and agile, able to vault over shield walls and attack with immense
reflexes.
Defense: By virtue of their extreme agility, the Sisters are extremely hard to hit in melee combat. In
addition some carry shields.
Mobility: 5
Max & Effective Range: 50 meters
Cruel beyond measure, the Dreadspears

and Bleakswords usually form the core of
the Dark Elf armies. These are career
soldiers whose nominal task is to guard
the cities, maintain order and serve as
frontline troops for most Druichi armies.
Only in the Cult of Blood is their role as
the main troop supplanted by the Brides
of Khaine.
All Druichi are arrogant beyond tolerance, but Bleakswords surpass even most of the rest of their
kindred. Each of them believes him or herself to be the true champion of the age, a warrior without
peer. They forsake aid from their fellows or any form of ranged weaponry, instead opting to charge in
and engage in melee combat.
Dreadspears meanwhile are far more disciplined warriors who look down upon the Bleakswords as
brash adventurers. They operate in battle by forming disciplined spear walls glittering with points that
can stop a raging marauder horde straight in its tracks. In battle they usually serve as strong bastions
to hold the line.
Black Arc Corsairs are the state sanctioned pirates of the Druichi realm, warriors who would travel on
their black arcs to raid much of the world. Its a hard life, for they must often fight against navies from
all across the world, but often one very financially rewarding. In combat Corsairs favor weapons that suit
their close combat lifestyle including punch daggers, short blades, as well as nets, barbed chains and
other forms of grapples.
Offensive: Spears or swords depending on the variant. Corsair uses short blades and daggers as well as
grappling hooks, nets and other means to entangle a foe. A few might have repeater hand bows.
Defensive: Light Leather armor and shield(for Dreadspears and Bleakswords). Corsairs have tough, scaly
sea dragon coats.
Mobility: 6
Rumored to be wedding gifts of Khaine to

his brides, the Cauldron of Blood is the
centerpiece of a Khainite ritual. The pot is
filled to the brim with the blood of
sacrificial victims yet, curiously, it never
overflows no matter how much is added.
Ridden by Death Hags, the Cauldron of
Blood provides numerous magical buffs to
the surrounding force. Only a handful
remain from the fall of Naggarond
however.
The blood found in the cauldron, when

activated, has rejuvenative qualities and
will restore the youth of the user. In its
original state the witch elf would only have to commit such an act once. However the inventor of the
cauldron of blood, Morathi, never saw fit to share the secret with the rest of her cult. As a result they
must do so constantly, a factor that leads to the shedding of ever more blood. Though in the short run
this kept the Cult of Khaine too distracted from mustering its energy to pose too much a threat, in the
long run it sapped their discipline and likely played a major role in leading to the Khainite Cults
corruption.
Offensive: All units around the cauldron fight with supernatural fury and prowess, making them fall
upon the enemy with far greater deadliness than they would otherwise. When the Blood in the
Cauldron boils over the leading Death Hag can use its energy to empower one allied unit within 50
meters, stroking their hearts with violent fire and giving them the strength to tear through enemy
lines.
Sometimes all sorts of vile potions are mixed into the brew, further enhancing the supernatural prowess
of the Druichi Cult of Blood.
Defensive: Magical shielding + magic resistance.

Mobility: 5.5
The first of the gigantic hellhounds leapt between two of the heavy wooden stakes that had been
driven into the ground in front of the men-at-arms. Its immense shoulders were covered in mangy,
matted fur, and its eyes reflected the flames of the braziers.
It hurled itself at the dragon-helmed knight, and its massive paws slammed into his armoured chest,
bowling him backwards even as his sword blade penetrated the beast's chest. With one savage bite, the
knight's head, helmet and all, was ripped from his shoulders, and blood sprayed out like a fountain.
The beast's thick body was impaled by polearms, but it had done its work, and Radegar felt panic
begin to rise within him. It had happened so fast.
He had no time to think, as scores of the massive hounds struck the line. Radegar thrust his polearm
forward, taking one of the beasts squarely in the chest. The force of the beast's momentum knocked
him back a step, into the men behind him, and his feet slipped in the mud.
He saw his scowling yeoman hack his blade into the side of the head of another beast, the sword biting
deep. Radegar pulled his weapon back, and with a shout he thrust again, feeling his weapon bite into
flesh.
The man to his right dropped to his knees as a massive weight dragged his shield low, and in the next
instant a snarling beast tore his face off with a snap of its jaws. The axe-head of a polearm slammed
down onto the beast's skull, cracking it like a nut, and it died instantly, blood and brain splattering.
Men were shouting in fear, panic and anger, and order began to be lost. More holes were made in the
shield-wall as men died, some as their arms were savagely ripped from their sockets by the monstrous
hounds and others as massive jaws ripped at their throats, spraying blood wildly.
Radegar shouted wordlessly as he struck. A heavy weight slammed against his shield, and he was
pushed backwards again. In that moment, Radegar knew that the line was going to break, and that he
was going to die. Knight Errant
Like the men of the civilized lands, both the Northmen and those of the Beastkin tribes share a
special relationship with their canines. Only these dogs are deeply corrupted things, originally
the descendants of wolves and bloodhounds but now mutated into something far fouler. In
addition to being far bigger than normal hounds (described as pony sized ) Many Chaos
Warhounds have mutated to possess horns, spines, and tusks, and further rarer mutations
include long barbed tongues, human limbs or faces, stone hard skin, tentacles that flow from their
forehead fire-breathing or even a scorpion's tail!
Trained but not tamed Warhounds serve as nominal sentries of the camp, being fed a steady diet of
slaves and the weakest members of chaos as a result. However when their masters know that battle
is near they will deliberately starve for daysthe beasts. Though many die this ensures the beasts
are battle-crazed and fanatically hungry.
These surviving, frenzied hounds are then released on the battlefield ahead of the main Beastman
force. Running at speeds only slightly slower than a horse and now crazed from hunger, these
Chaos Hounds will charge even a bristling spear wall in their pursuit for food. While at times
sending their dogs out in front of the main force, Warriors of Chaos also utilize a second use. Owing
to these hounds remarkable sense of smell they can be unleashed in packs to hunt down all but the
stealthiest and quickest of the enemy's scouts and skirmishers. They are also well suited for
running down the fleeing enemy.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Super sharp teeth that can rend

through flesh in an instant, as well as jaw-power to
crush a mans head in a plate helmet. Three of
them working together are able to rip a plate-
armored knight into pieces. Also some of them
have evolved poison as a mutation or else have
warpstone hammered into their teeth if their
owners are particularly rich.
For a moment, Karl felt a twinge of martial pride

for the culture that had raised him. The greatest
army in the world. He would be content to die at its
hands. He would ride his nameless nag into the pike
wall and find his end.
The pike wall was right ahead now, and unmoving.
The hounds reached the pike wall. Hounds are not like horses, they do not quail and veer aside from
obstruction. Whether this means horses are smarter than dogs, or dogs braver than horses, is hard to
call. Hounds are unlike horses in other ways too: they are lower and smaller and fleeter, and much
harder to strike with a pole blade four spans long. And they have the teeth of meat-eaters.
A few of the great hunting dogs were gashed and run through by the stalwart pikes. A few more were
shot by handgun and crossbow and left yelping and lame on the mud. The bulk ran in under the pikes
and into the men.
At once, the wall broke in several places. Men screamed and fell back, trying to dodge the ravening
war-dogs. They crashed into the ranks behind them. Pikes dropped into the mire. Some parts of the
rank unformed completely as frantic pike men turned their weapons too far and too suddenly to check
the murderous hounds.
The Kurgan charge slammed into the Imperial front row and poured into the breaks and gaps. Men in
white and red went down under the weight of horses or the thrust of horned spearmen. Once the
enemy was in amongst them, the pike men were forced to abandon their shafts and equip themselves
with hand weapons. They had no shields, and none of the Kurgans momentum.-Riders of the Dead
Defensive: As a mutation some possess scaly skin that can shrug off glancing sword blows and
make thrusts more difficult to penetrate.
In addition to these fierce mutated dogs, a few Hung tribes are known to train large birds of prey as
warbirds.
Mobility: 6
Training: 3-4
To be chosen by Tchar to receive

his blessing and thus becoming one
of the Were is not a thing to be
taken lightly. It is an honour
beyond all others, though at times a heavy burden. Those marked with the strength to fully transform
are always destined for lordship and greatness among my people. I received Tchars touch upon me two
winters after my beard had filled in. During a battle with some Graelings, I felt the urge to bury my teeth
in my foes throat and so I did. His warm blood coursed over my tongue, pouring down onto my armour
and I howled my victory to the skies. It was only after he fell lifeless at my feet that I realised my jaw was
a foot longer than it had been at the start of the fight to say nothing of the brown fur on my muzzle. The
changes receded as the battle din faded, but now they come at my call. Some of the other Were have lost
the ability to still walk as men, but not I. At least, not yet. Were who hear the call of the beast too
strongly must be confined until they are needed. Perhaps one day I too will howl for blood from the high
caves and await ever the chance to kill for my people, but not today. Sorgrim Olafsson, Bjornling
Warrior
Many are the dark and nightmarish horrors that the Ruinous Powers have visited upon the world, yet
few are as strange as the Skin Wolves of legend. The witch-cursd and Chaos-tainted men and women
afflicted with this gift from their unholy gods bear a mutation that does not show as a stigma of the
flesh, but instead lurks in the blood, a slumbering beast to be roused by dark sacrifice and unspeakable
ritual.
When this horror is unleashed, there is no mere transformation from man into beast; instead a great
humanoid wolf-thing bursts fully-formed from the body of the human. Lean and half-insane with Chaos-
tainted hunger, the Skin Wolf is so-named for the scraps and tatters of flesh and chunks of gristle that
cling to its hulking frame; all that remains of the human form it once bore. Only once battle is spent and
their voracious hunger sated will the transformation be reversed, the flesh of the Skin Wolf collapsing
into a pallid and terrible mass from which the human must tear it free.
The Skin Wolves appear to behave as a twisted mutation that may be inflicted by Chaos followers, and
thus there might be quite a few of these wolfmen depending on how many go through with the ritual.
They can regenerate slightly and of course are armed with a terrible maw and sharp claws. Some may
be blessed by specific gods, gaining better strength, better regeneration, poisoned attacks or striking
quicker.
-Forgeworld.com for description
Though Wolfmen can apparently be found throughout the Chaos Wastes, they occupy a unique place in
Norse culture. These Ulfwerener are revered warriors and fighters respected due to their closeness to
the gods, the mutation that allows them to transform in battle. There are said to be whole tribes of
them living in northern Norsca. However they lack the control of the Skin Wolves, sometimes failing to
transform and other times, when they do transform, they go on an uncontrollable feeding spree when
around corpses, making them difficult for commanders to control.
The Ulfrenar are led by the Ulfjarl, alphas among the wolfmen. These individuals are said to have far
greater control over their transformation and secret themselves into ranks of regular Norsemen. Then,
in the midst of battle, they can act like assassins by quickly transforming and leaping directly at the
enemy commander!
Offensive: Claws and Teeth. Even the Ulfjarls are not in control of themselves enough in Werewolf form
to wield weapons.
Defensive: Innate Durability and some minor regeneration.
Orgrim was on his feet, axe raised above his head and roaring his animal hate at the men below. A
thick, brute smell seemed to exude from Orgrims body and before Einarrs stunned eyes, he saw the hair
on the mans face and hands begin to thicken and spread. With another howl, Orgrim hurled his axe at
the Hung and leapt down into the court, his hands curled into savage claws.
Einarr cursed again, then rushed after the frenzied Aesling. Near the stake, the bug-headed shaman
struggled to tear Orgrims axe free from his breast. He never had the chance. Like a predatory beast,
Orgrim pounced on the stricken shaman, ripping and tearing at him with his claws. Ropes of brown
entrails and shreds of green flesh littered the air as Orgrim tore the shaman apart. Einarr watched in
horrified fascination as Orgrim lowered his head and savaged the shamans throat. When he lifted his
head again, it was no longer that of the Aesling, but the lean, stretched muzzle of a wolf, its fur caked in
the unclean filth from the shamans veins.
Ulfwerenar, Einarr gasped, recalling the stories of the were-kin, the men who bore the flesh of the beast
within them. The Norscan fought to control his shock; there would be time enough to worry about
Orgrims condition once the Hung were dead.
--Palace of the Plague Lord
Though much rarer, other forms of were creatures such as were bears, boars, bison and cats do
exist.
Mobility: 7 (as fast as a horse)
Max & Effective Range: 300

(eastern variant), most are
melee
Just as Centaurs are the

disturbing cross between a man
and horse, Centigors are the
cross between beast and
horse. They possess the speed
and strength of their equine
ancestors along with our ability
to wield weapons with their
hands. However though strong
and fast, Centigors lack agility
and dexterity to manipulate
objects with any real control.
This has left them extremely
bitter and envious of other
creatures with better abilities.
Which has, in turn, led the entire
race to become bitter
alcoholics.
Since they are bitter and yet incapable of fabricating weapons for themselves, Centigors often
answer the brayherd's call to war. When Brayherds gather for religious ceremonies, Centigors trot
around, defecating on random pillars and making loud boasts to everyone that will listen. And get
wasted off of looted wine. Beastmen seem to have accepted this nature of the Centigor fortunately,
and generally just ignore them when they do this.
In times of war Centigors have two roles. The first is delivering messages from shaman to
shaman. Though this might not seem the wisest choice to allocate to known drunkards, Bray-
shamans seem to utilize elaborate magical message systems in which they speak with a voice other
than their own. Sometimes it is the voice of a shaman, other times it is a truly dread daemonic voice.
If asked later Centigors would reply they have no knowledge of these messages.
When in battle Centigors, being part horse, serves as Beastmen cavalry. They gallop into battle
inside semi-organized formations armed with whatever hand weapons the Beastmen give
them. Their effectiveness depends on their state of mind. When dead drunk they fight with fierce
rage and a complete stubbornness when it comes to routing. However this comes at the cost of
somewhat stunted reaction time that is added by natural centigor traits. If they are hungover
they are completely irritable, hating the loud cacophony of war and are far less effective in battle.
They are at best performance when sober but this is, unfortunately, a rarity for them.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Spears are their most common

weaponry. Sometimes they put down their shields
for great axs, maces or claymores. Or given
throwing axes. The Eastern plains variant is
sometimes portrayed as more coordinated than
their Western brethren, and might be given bows.
Both types can kick hard enough to shatter
bone.
Defensive: Most of the time they use shields and

some light leather.
Training: 8-10
Mobility: 8
Range: Melee
Every now and then in

Warhammer Lore one
encounters tiny hints of a
race of horsemen-
predating Beastmen and
the Centigor
abominations- that
roamed the world in the
days when the Old Ones
ruled and the world was
yet untainted. Said to be
older than elves- even
older than dragons- this
race of centaurs even
rose to create their own civilization. Of the eventual fate of these creatures little is said other than they
too were swept up in the inferno of the first Chaos invasion. How long did this race last against the
relentless Chaos onslaught and what mighty battles were fought between them?
At some point in the conflict anecdotal legends speak of a mysterious great migration into the Chaos
Wastes where virtually the entire race left their homes and raced north. Their motives were unknown
but perhaps it was, like Grimmirs doomed journey, a last desperate attempt to race to the North Pole
and close the daemon spewing portal by force. Whatever the case this race virtually disappeared from
the world barring a few isolated and hostile individuals left to fend for themselves in the increasingly
Chaos infested forests. For perhaps seven millennia nothing was heard of this ancient species.
A Chaos Centaur regiment calling themselves the Hellmounts have recently appeared from the
Northern Wastes, rumors following them of decimated Kislev Border Patrols and unprovoked raids on
villages and farmsteads. The creature's leader Toxote is said to be particularly vicious and unmerciful in
combat. They are mercenaries of the dark races serving the highest bidder and galloping off in the
distance after the plunder has been collected.
These are not dumb, bestial beasts like the Centigors but deadly intelligent creatures with a malicious
eye towards murder. These creatures have been warped by Chaos to look more beastial than they once
were and have become bloodthirsty to the point of forgoing the bow in favor of melee halberds or other
great weapons. At the same time they are known for deploying a mighty curse on the enemy which
through corrupted wine can leave an entire enemy unit dizzy, enraged and uncontrollable, or beserk
and fighting amongst themselves. Of course like everything Chaos this sometimes backfires and makes
the enemy stronger and more resistant to pain!
They also hate elves with a mysterious passion whose cause baffles even the oldest elven researcher or
seer. Whatever the case this ancient grudge causes Toxote and his Warband to go after Elves above
every other enemy.
Offensive: Halberds and Great Weapons
Defensive: Light Leather Armor
Counts as Super Rare. The centaurs are creatures of myth emerging from the mists of time to make the
world suffer one more time in the name of vengeance.
Mobility: 7
From far away a harpy appears as a

lithe, shapely women however close up
its clear that any distant ideals of
beauty are a lie. This creature has the
same furred legs of a beastmen and a
face described as twisted and leering,
with needle-sharp teeth. Harpies are
instinctively cruel and malevolent,
and thus those they catch are in for
great torment before death.
When campaign begins swarms of

harpies fly above and alongside the
beastmen, their screeches and cries filling those that hear them with dread. At times their cry might
change tune to alert the beastmen that they spotted something, thus serving as makeshift scouts.
Opportunists and scavengers harpies generally won't attack the well-armed and ready.
Instead they will by instinct target those too weak or wounded to defend themselves, which
sometimes might mean those lightly armed artillerymen to the rear. If there is a large enough
swarm of them though they might get bold and try to overwhelm more formidable enemies on the
ground.
However Harpies can also be directly ensnared to the will of Chaos magicians and sent into
battle in vast hordes. If directed via bray-shaman control they can be used more tactically. In
Bretonnia they were utilized to assail and carry off numerous sentries from a high sanctuary.
Another instance saw them sent after enemy artillery, slaying those who were far away from
protection.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: They are armed with claws sharp

and strong enough to rip unarmored humans
limb from limb in a few moments, especially
when working together.
Defensive: Nothing
Harpies summoned during a Storm of Magic,

or when the tempest of Chaos is at its highest
point, are much more formidable then
normally. Their claws can tinge with chaotic
wildfire, be exceptionally venomous or
sharp. They are also far bolder and more
daring in combat.
Horns began to sound off as boulders

hammered down on the forward positions like
meteors. Men were crushed and wagons
smashed to smithereens, stretches of drystone
wall as old as the borders of the Empire were
reduced to flying rubble under the sheer
tonnage of rock. Into the screams of confusion and pain came the harpies.
Like a cloud of bees released from the nether reaches of hell, they swarmed through the Auric Bastions
breach, cackling and gambolling between the pulsing vines towards the artillery batteries on the
surrounding hills. At once feminine and monstrous, they swept down on those men forced from cover
by the preceding barrage to hoist them screaming into the air. A sputter of handgun fire peppered the
cloud, a futile gesture of defiance compared to the shrieking of the harpies and the continual gut-
rumble of fissuring rock, but the wall of musket-shot was enough to drive the flock from the batteries.
Shrieking into the blackpowder thunder, the swarm spiralled into dozens of splinter flocks that tore
across the Imperial lines. Men cried out, ducked, those that didnt snatched up by clawed hands and
dropped from a great height. Matchlocks crackled, the spark of ignitions rippling back across the
battle lines.- Kinslayer
Mobility: 7
Max Range: 400 m
Effective Range: 240m.
Preferred Range: Ranged or Melee, depending on variant
Though many among the Northmen have a suspicion or even fear of horses, quite a few tribes have
adopted it as a war animal. Often it is used as a status animal for the elites, such as the Chaos
Knights, though there are quite a few purely nomadic tribes that make regular use of the
horse. These horsemen are feared throughout the known civilized world in much the same way
the Huns or Mongolians were feared.
The speed and mobility of the Marauder horsemen is legendary, and they are capable of guiding
their horses with just a twist of the waist or light tap of the foot. This frees up their hands in
battle to dual-wield weapons if need be. Such synchrony owes itself to the fact thatis these horses
are trained with a warrior since he is young, with one of the first tasks of a Marauder horseman to
capture and break a Marauder stallion. They then grow together, and the horse becomes utterly
loyal to the warrior, never letting anyone else ride it. Fed on a diet of human flesh and blood, these
horses are nearly as malevolent as their owners themselves, and will kick, bite and stomp in battle
gleefully without command.
In battle the Marauder Horseman can take a variety of roles. Those that favor javelin and throwing
axe will ride up close and pepper enemy lines before retreating. Those like the Hung will shower
enemy lines with arrows much like the Horse archers of the Mongolians. Others will be sent to hit
enemy flanks and rears, armed with spears or barbed flails for this task. In the case of the latter the
Horsemen love to catch hold of someone with it and drag them to death behind their horses. Enemy
cavalry, if present, will be engaged. Finally at the conclusion of the battle they will be used to
gleefully run down enemy survivors. Unless ordered, Kurgan Marauder Horsemen almost never
assault a defensive fortification.
The knight suddenly sat upright in his saddle. A black-fletched arrow had just impaled his chest.
Zar Uldin galloped in, with many of the warband racing beside him. He was letting arrows fly from his
composite bow. Uldin was riding without a hand on the reins. He drew the bowstring back past his ear
and charged his arrows with such force that no bascinet, cuirass or mail could stop them. Each arrow
made a spitting noise as it loosed a grinding crack and punctured its target.
Transfixed with arrows, the knight clattered off his horse.
Karl cowered against a tree stump as the Kurgan stormed past. They were whooping and yelling and
their heavy arrows spat through the air. Each man had a clutch of six or seven arrows gripped
between the fingers of the hand that held the bow itself, so as soon as they had fired one, their drawing
hand could nock another as it went to pull the bowstring back. Their fire rate was astonishingly rapid,
like some mechanical device designed by the Engineers of Nuln. The Kurgan horses, smart and hard-
trained, seemed to need no rein control. This allowed the Northers great independence; they could
turn in the saddle and shoot arrows in passing to the side, or even to the rear. Karl gazed as a Kurgan
Barlas put an arrow into the chest of one templar as he charged him, and then two more between
his shoulderblades as he galloped past.
The proud templars, the military elite of the Empire, were overwhelmed in under a minute. One, armed
with a sword and cornered, fought on against the Kurgan riders closing around him and goading him
with spears.- Riders of the Dead
Often they share these plains with the Hobgoblin Wolf

Riders, who ride the plains above Cathay in great
Khagnates . Led by their Wolf-khans they are infamous
mercenaries and for that reason are usually hired out by
the Chaos Dwarves, who use them as skirmishers,
foragers and light cavalry in their wars of conquest .
Regardless of their formally independent status the
Chaos Dwarves treat them no better than the Hobgoblins
under their lordship.
This is in part because the Wolf-Riders have the same

basic traits as their slave-breaker cousins. They are
notorious backstabbers, sometimes attacking each
other even in the middle of battle. Also these riders are
known for their cowardice and apt to flee if they are
outnumbered or if sent into a particularly fearful
task. Given that they are riding wolves, this is relatively
easy to do. When they manage to charge in the enemies
flanks or rears they can gain a brief burst of enthusiasm,
but they will never like facing an enemy face-to-face.
Nevertheless some are noted for being skilled archers.
Rarely a Hobgoblin Khan can arise to lead either the

Wolf Riders or their cousins in the Hobgoblin employ. These skulking brutes are used to help unify
Hobgoblins in battle, keeping their kin in line by immediately executing any that show an ounce of
disloyalty. Even more rare are the Hobgoblin shamans said to be able to bind spirits of air to attack
their foes. Hobhounds- giant goblinoid Warhound are used to take down enemies.
Their war cries came to us first; shrieking calls and piercing whistles mixed with the baying of wolves
echoed over the ridge. We smelled them next, their stench carried on the foul winds that blew from
their steppe homelands far to the east. A gaunt lone figure came over the rise, mounted on a massive
wolf. He paused at the crest of the hill to stare down at us for a time. Finally, he raised a horn to his
lips, sounded one echoing blast, and then charged our lines without hesitation. When his mount had
loped perhaps a dozen paces in our direction, his troops flowed over the horizon like a wave. Their
battle line stretched as far as I could see in both directions. Hundreds of Hobgoblins riding hundreds of
wolves. They fired arrows as they came and such was their skill that far too many found their mark
even though they raced forward over uneven ground as they shot. I have stood against many foes, but
few as fell as the Hobgoblin troops of Zhorag Khan. Otmar Essel, Kislevite Warrior
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Marauders are armed with hooked axes, barbed fails, or spears for close quarters.
For ranged they might have javelins or thrown axes. The Eastern Hung were more likely to use
composite bows in Mongol/Hun style, with the richest clans having warpstone tipped arrows. Much
like the Mongols and Huns of our world, they are described as expert riders. They use large
aggressive horses or ponies (if Hung). Though extremely rare, the Norse Skeggi of Lustria were
able to master Cold Ones, which are giant velociraptors.
The two-headed rhinox had gone down beneath the barrage, appearing more like some kind of giant
porcupine with so many shafts buried in its shaggy flesh. The creature was not dead, however. It was
too stupid and its hide too thick to succumb. At the site of each arrow-inflicted injury, the beast
suffered the horror of a rapid transformation. It swiftly became a moaning mound of hairy mutation,
spawning new appendages, tentacles and growths. With these new gifts it dragged its spiny form
across the tundra towards the wagon
and the pair taking refuge beneath it.-
Archaon: Everchosen
Hobgolbin Wolfirders can carry bows,

spears, swords or axes into battle. The
Khan might also have any of that along
with throwing knives and potentially a
minor magical weapon (see
Daemonsmith). As you might expect,
the giant horse-size wolves attack with
their teeth and paws.
Night Attacks are common among the

Hobgoblins and Hung, as well as
methodology of using hit and run
attacks strikes to attack. Hobgoblins in
particular are renowned for their
trickery and sneaky tactics, having
almost a supernatural ability to sneak
up behind someone and stab.
Defensive: Marauder Horsemen may

utilize shields or leather armor, though
armor slows them down slightly.
Wolfriders and the Khan might have shields and some light leather armor. The Khan also might
have a minor magical defense.
Deres nuthin in life as proper as huntn from da back of a ard taught wolf. Dere speed n grace makes
da world flow by as a dream. Prey who manage ta give a good fight n die with some dignity are way
better dan dose wot scream and soil der britches, but I take whatever I catch all da same. Brodai,
Hobgoblin Warrior
Mobility: 8
Training/Experience: 3-4 (Variable for

Daemons)
Max Range: Melee
Slaanesh finds the desperation of mortals

exhilarating; especially of those who lack
the strength or cunning for power yet craze
it anyway. To these weak-willed men
Slaanesh offers a bargain give him just a
few souls, and he will personally insure
their rise to power. The Steed of Slaanesh is
a gift he offers to carry these men from one
victory to the next. Unfortunately, like many
of the choices offered by Chaos, this one
came at a horrible price. For once the
warrior hops on the steed, he is destined
to never get off.
The joy that a warrior gets from killing on

top of such a beast proves to be
exhilarating- too exhilarating in fact. Its a
drug and the withdrawal is so horrible that
any thoughts of power and fortune are
quickly abandoned, leaving only a
gnawing hunger for sensation. Their path is
an eternal hunt and only death is a release.
Seekers of Slaanesh are significantly better off. These are maidens of Slaanesh that have been
rewarded in service to their master with a new steed. They
are sadistic to the extreme, and outside of battle are well-
known for tracking down singular foes for thousands of miles,
letting them go just as they are about to be caught. In this way
they have been known to drive their quarry insane over
month-long chases.
The steeds of such warriors are curious bipeds that are known
for their extreme grace and mystique, being rumored to have
been made from the guilty desires of mortals. They appear as a
cross between a bird and an anteater, with the matching
anteater like tongue.
This tongue is to be feared for two reasons. First it is coated in

deadly, extremely painful toxins, and in battle this is the
means in which steeds gruesomely kill the enemy, along with
claws. Such toxin not only simultaneously heightens
sensation, making the poison more painful, but deadens
reflexes. If the victim survives then he will likely be plagued
by alluring hallucinations and dreams of temptations for
the rest of his life. The second is the ability to taste the Winds
of Magic and via that detect a targets unique soul signature.
It is in this
way the
Seeker can
track down
targets across
years and
continents.
==LOADOUT
==
Offensive:
Mortal
Hellriders can
be armed
with spears or hellscourges, which are whips that are said to move on their own accord and deal
multiple attacks when they strike. Such whips can rip out throats, gouge eyes, and rake skin in the
same blow. The Daemonette may also have this weapon or attack with her claws. Both riders have
elven equivalent reaction time.
In both cases the Steed itself attacks with a deadly, poisonous armor-piercing tongue and claws.
This tongue can be used to reel in enemy foes for the rider to dispatch.
Defensive: Hellriders carry shields and ride barechested. Neither Seekers nor steeds have any
armor.
Like the Dark Eldar of 40k the Hellriders get more powerful the more they destroy, and get
particular buffs. On the base level this would make their charge more fearsome thanks to extra
power, but gradually over time they will also become more fearless in battle and even immune to
psychology completely.
As the blizzard continued to rage around the beleaguered Kislevites, unease swiftly turned into near
panic as tendrils of mist rose and coiled around them. A cloying and pervasive perfume rose with it,
heightening senses and fears. Visibility, which had already been poor, now deteriorated to the point
where Kobach could no longer see the edge of the roadway, though he knew it to be mere feet away.
The scent of the mist tugged at Kobach's mind and soul, at times numbing the fear he felt, at others
heightening it to near unbearable proportions. As he struggled with his own terror a warrior fled the
ranks, his form swallowed in mist and snow before Kobach could react. The otherworldly cries
instantly ceased as Kobach lost sight of his comrade. A deathly silence settled over the huddled
company, and Kobach strained to hear a sound, any sound, other than that of his own frantically
beating heart and the howling torrents of snow. Then suddenly, without warning, the blizzard ceased,
the winds died away and an eerie silence fell.
The silence was broken as a musical bellow split the chill air. Screams of terror and warning came
from Kobach's left. He watched frozen with horror as sinuous creatures dashed out of the mist, thin
heads twitching from side to side in quick movements like unearthly raptors. Astride them rode lithe
female figures, their pale skin in stark contrast to the brilliant patterns and colours of their steeds. The
attackers darted forward, the hues on the skins of the mounts rippling and flowing like oil on water.
Behind them an almost impossibly tall shadow of a lithe, fourarmed form appeared through the mist
that now receded as quickly as it had come. As his terrified mind raced, Kobach recognized Soulrender
of half-believed tales.
The Kislevites retreated almost as one before the attack, leaving a handful of men behind, their bound
ears deafening them to the shouted warnings of their comrades. Unable to help, Kobach watched as
the bird-like Daemons flitted forwards, their riders imparting delicate slashes that took the eyes of
their victims before they were even aware of the danger. As he ordered the terrified soldiers to ready
their bows, Kobach's last sight of those that had been left behind was the Soulrender tearing each man
limb from limb in a graceful dance of carnage. As the last man died, the Daemonettes gazed across at
the surviving soldiers, predatory smiles and needle-sharp teeth visible even at that distance. They
started towards Kobach's men while the Soulrender remained where it was, toying with the entrails of
the slain. Faced with a target, Kobach's training took over and he readied his surviving men to fire a
volley. He opened his mouth to give the command but with a freak gust of wind his target was lost in a
flurry of snow. When it cleared, the Daemons were gone.
Without warning, the screams began from the rearmost ranks as the Daemonettes cut into the
unprepared soldiers. As his men reformed to face the threat, Kobach attempted to understand what
had happened. Although his conscious mind knew that the creatures must have skirted around his unit
during the flurry, the speed that their steeds possessed almost defied belief. Trying to quell his fear, he
pushed his way to where the Daemons were slaughtering his men. Kobach found himself gazing up at a
pale-skinned Daemonette but, as he raised his axe to cut down the delicate abhorrence, his gaze met
that of the Daemon.
His conscious mind tried to goad his body into action as he stared, ensnared by the perverse beauty of
the creature, but the seductive power of the Daemonette was too strong, too pervasive. As he stood
enraptured, the steed lashed out with its impossibly long tongue. As it enfolded him in its glistening
embrace, Kobach was started from his reverie. Frantically he struggled with all his strength, his
desperate efforts pitching him into the mud, and the beast released its grip. Still on the ground, Kobach
lashed out with his axe, the keen blade cutting into the leg of his opponent's steed. The creature
screamed in shrill pain and flinched away, the Daemonette rider gracefully maintaining its balance
atop the bucking creature.
Taking the opportunity, Kobach clambered to his feet, and swung his axe once more. This time the
steed dodged aside from the blow, faster than Kobach would have believed possible, and the axe cut
only air. The Daemonette vaulted gracefully from its mount, eyes glinting. Again Kobach felt the tug of
its horrific allure, but with a supreme effort of will was able to resist the call. Unfortunately, his brief
hesitation was all the Daemonette required. It darted forward and slashed Kobach from groin to chest
with a disturbingly delicate stroke that severed flesh and bone. Kobach collapsed backwards into the
mud, his axe abandoned as he tried to prevent his innards slipping out onto the roadway. The
Daemonette flashed a predatory smile, its tongue flicking across pointed teeth before dashing towards
its next victim. A comfortable warmth spread through Kobach's body as he lay on the ground, and a
sudden tiredness pressed at his consciousness. As his men were butchered around him, suddenly the
pain didn't seem so bad.-Swift and Deadly short story
Mobility: 5.5
Training/Experience: 3-4 (Variable for Daemons)
Max &
Effective
Range:
Melee
Preferred
Range:
Melee
Plaguebearers are under a lot of pressure to keep tally,

for should they fail they will be turned into a toad by
their master. Then, if Nurgle ever loses a battle, he
raises his spirits by heading to his garden and
stomping on toads until the spray of blood and guts
raises his morale. Not surprisingly Plague Toads flee to the mortal realm every chance they can
get.
Nurgle- centric forces, such as that of Tamurkhan, can bring these creatures to summon these
creatures to fight for them. In battle they use their long tongues to drag enemies into sharp-
toothed maw or gore people with their slimy horn. For a more strategic use they are known to
seek out waterways, poisoning them.
Sometimes they are captured and bound by Plaguebearers for use as mounts. The Toads are not too
happy about this arrangement but have little choice in the matter, as they dont want the mounted
plaguebearer to kill them and send them back to Nurgles realm! These beasts are then made part of
the vanguard of a Nurglite force, crashing through enemy lines like bloated cannonballs. Any
blood shed just helps spread the infection.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: The Pox Riders themselves have a plague sword, while their steeds attack with their
massive bulk, horns, and poisonous tongue.
Defensive: Plague Toads are so bulky that this is often aids them in shrugging off wounds, and are
also usually surrounded by flies.
More riders galloped around the mammoth, slashing at Devsehs flanks. Dorgo hurled a javelin at one
of the horsemen, his missile punching through the mans chest. Shrieking, the rider toppled from his
horse. As he rolled across the ground, the dirt exploded. A huge, shriveled shape pulled itself from the
ground, its gash-like mouth snapping at the wounded man, closing around his midsection. Quick as its
appearance, the warty bulk of the toad retreated back beneath the ground, intent upon its meal.-
Blood for the Blood God
Mobility: 7 -5.5 (Beast)

Training/Experience: (Variable for Daemons)
In the distance I beheld a Lord of Change,

wings tern and limb bloody. Twas then the
heat haze cleared to reveal the Flesh Hound
pack loping at his heels. Iridescent fire blazed
from the Feathered Lord's oven mouth and
washed over his pursuers, hut the collars about
the hounds necks glowed dully and the
flames died. Last strength spent, the Lord of
Change fell to his knees. With one mind, the
pack lunged, and soon their prey was naught
hut torn offal and bloodied plumage
--Daemons of Chaos, 8e, pg 31
The Flesh Hounds are eight feet long wolf-

like daemons of Khorne, brutal creatures as
blood-obsessed as the more sentient
daemons of the Skull Legions. They are the
embodiment of battle at its most
unforgiving, such as the slaughter of an enemy who begs for mercy or the plunging of a sword into
an enemy's back. Described as lithe but extremely powerful, outside of battle they are used to
hunt down those who offended Khorne. Few beings survive such a fate, as Flesh Hounds can carry
a scent across even the most terrible of environmental conditions and more often than not only
defeat will dissuade them. For these excellent tracking they make an excellent anti-scout unit!
This is made worse by the near complete immunity this unit has to magic, something only the
strongest of magics can bypass. Even the mighty Lord of Change struggles to penetrate!
In battle they run ahead of Khornes armies and charge enemy lines without concern for safety,
for they are utterly fearless of all things but Khorne itself. Vicious and fast they will then tear into
enemy front-ranks as Bloodletters use the distraction to advance. When the battle is over and
should the Khornate forces prevail they will then move to cut down any fleeing survivors. The more
successes a fleshound achieves the more Khorne rewards them to the point where the very oldest
beasts are marked with dozens of runes, tattoos, insignia, and have so much bling they clatter when
they walk!
Beasts of Nurgle look like a cross between a slug, a frog, tentacle monster, and likely a number of
other unsavory things. The Beast of Nurgle is the embodiment of mindless corruption. Its so
disease ridden that its very proximity kills small animals and little piles of acidic slime are
left when it moves. When it sees another foe it will quickly and without thought run up to him and
lick him uncontrollably and/or petting the unfortunate with its tentacles, paralyzing and quickly
rotting him into
nothingness.
Which is sad because the

Beasts of Nurgle are the
friendliest daemons in this
profile! The Beast of Nurgle
doesnt want to kill; it only
wants affection and
attention. Its attempts to
lick people, fatal if
successful, are not out of
malevolent but to show its
affection. Unfortunately
these beasts are so dumb
that they dont learn that
their tongues kill, and their
only response to death
(which they dont
understand) is slight
disappointment that their
new friend stopped moving
before happiness again as
soon as it catches sight of
more friends!
In battle Plaguebearers
attempt to rein in a
measure of self-control on
these beasts however this
rarely lasts long, as the
Beasts want desperately
the affection of new
friends.
A beast of Nurgle,
boisterous in its approach, smashed through the eastern wall. Bastarno tried to dive clear, but too
slowly, and was pinned beneath the creatures slobbering bulk. The vampire stabbed at his assailant
with short, efficient jabs, but the daemon paid the wounds no heed. Instead, it looked fondly down at
the struggling vampire, dipped its head and ran a rough and slimy tongue across Bastarnos head and
upper torso. Where it passed, the vampires face and armour bubbled and blistered, his screams of
agony as excruciating as they were brief. Feeling his playmate go still, the beast looked down in
momentary confusion, then bounced away in search of another friend.- End Times : Archaon
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Fleshhounds attack with tooth

and claw, while plaguehounds use a highly
infectious tongue and tentacles to make
short work of friends.
Defensive: The scaly skin of the Fleshound

gives it some minor resistance to
projectiles, while the collars it wears ,
forged at the very base of Khornes s
throne, has extremely potent magical
resistance, enough that even a wounded
Lord of Change couldnt hurt them!
Beasts of Nurgle are very durable foes

thanks to being bloated with so many
diseases, and also have minor
regeneration.
===Additional Factors===
If on a hunt fleshounds can sometimes

emerge randomly on the battlefield, acting
as ambushers. Though for the most part
their role is to run up and soften enemy lines. Beasts of
Nurgles can be used to corrupt and pollute the land
around them by their very presence.
Mobility: 6 (is a slow flyer)
Max Range: 50m
Effective Range: 20-30m

A Plague Drone or rot fly is a horse-sized mutated Beast of Nurgle whose eyes have been awoken to
reality; that no mortal actually likes its gifts. After being rejected and hit countless times the
creature finally becomes fully malevolent, morphing in a cocoon into the flying Plague Drone.
Whereas the Beast was one jovial and friendly the Drone is actively hateful, seeking only to spread
plague because it knows it hurts them.
High-ranking Plaguebearers ride these steeds into battle, loving their perch and faster speed then
the palaguins. The Drone meanwhile, while acceptant of the Plaguebearers present, just wants to
kill. Though usually in limited numbers, in the End Times they have sometimes appeared in massive
hordes that darken the sky.
As the Rot Flies fall upon their prey, blade-sharp legs sink into soft flesh and leathery wings buzz in
a flapping purr of motion. Prehensile probosci and posterior mouth-parts latch onto the faces of
their victims, and the Rot Flies let out titters of mean-spirited laughter as they pluck heads from
necks and swallow them whole. When facing the unremarkable warriors of the mortal realm, a Rot
Fly will slowly digest all meat from a skull before spitting out a plague-infused
deaths head that its Plaguebearer rider can hurl at the foe. Given the chance,
though, Rot Flies will hunt down the impertinent mortals that slew their
previous incarnations. These poor creatures are swallowed completely whole,
to digest in their abdomens as torment.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: The Drone attacks with blade-legs, proboscises lined with plague
and a venomous wasp-like sting. The Plaguebearer on top has a plague sword
and can hurl a plague-infested skull at an opponent that shatters to pieces
upon impact.
Defensive: Its flying and like all of Nurgles minions is pretty durable innately. Also the Plague
Drone has a durable insect-like carapace.
Mobility: 2 (tiny, about up to your shins individually)
Training/Experience: (Variable for Daemons, but likely very low)
The rotting bowels of the Great Unclean Ones swell with pus and contagion, and within each
swelling there grows a tiny and malevolent Daemon called a Nurgling. Physically, Nurglings are
miniature versions of Nurgle himself, with friendly mischievous faces, tiny bloated green bodies,
and limbs that are often distorted or disproportionate. Normally they swarm over the body of a
Great Unclean One, picking at his skin, squealing with pleasure if their master favors them with a
titbit or a caress, otherwise squabbling over the most comfortable recesses of his carcass. When
faced with an enemy they advance in a furious swarm, clawing and gnawing at the foes legs, biting
his ankles and licking at any interesting sores or abrasions they discover. Their tiny teeth are as
sharp as razors, leaving festering little bites upon their victims, but rarely killing them outright
although such an attack can prove to be the beginning of a long, disease-ridden demise, as
something nasty takes root in the wound.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Nurglings attack in swarms of dozens

or hundreds, biting and scratching as a means to
attack. Often these wounds lead to infection.
Defensive: Nothing. You can easily kill one just

by stepping on it, though the fact that so many
come at once suggests the need of AOE attacks.
The Kislevite had been a trim, well muscled

warrior in life. Now his abdomen was more
bloated than that of the fellow who had drowned
in the well. He looked like he'd swallowed a
hogshead of Marienburg Ale whole. His belly was
taut as a drum head; so tight that the skin was
splitting. But that wasn't the worst of it. The
balloon of flesh bulged and squirmed like a sack
full of rats.
Reiner pulled on the reins and brought the cart to

a juddering stop, then turned, staring.
'What is it?' asked Hennig. 'I've heard corpses fill

with gas when they-'
His sentence went unfinished, for with a horrible wet pop, the body's stomach erupted in a shower of
rotting flesh and putrid viscera. Reiner and Hennig recoiled, instinctively covering their faces as they
were spattered with clots of stinking flesh. Choking and blinded, they didn't at first notice that, mixed
in with the reeking ejecta, were small snot-coloured creatures that skittered over the cart on tiny,
malformed legs.
The first Reiner knew of them was when one sank needle-like teeth through his boot into the flesh of
his calf. He yelped and knocked it to the ground. His hand came away smeared with slime. Another bit
his left toe. More climbed Hennig's legs. He plucked them off, gagging.
The street, a narrow way lined with tanneries and low taverns, was crowded with idle soldiers, street-
hawkers and sisters of joy. The slimy vermin leapt off the cart into that river of humanity like fleas,
biting and clawing, and the normal street chatter was replaced by bellows of pain and surprise. A
roiling knot of victims twisted and swatted at the miniature horrors, looking for all the world as if they
performed some strenuous dance. It would have been ludicrous were it not for the unfortunate soul,
who fell, screaming, with eyes plucked out and veins chewed open to the muddy ground.
What are they?' wailed Hennig, trying to knock one loose with his sabre.
'Nurglings!' said Reiner, snatching one off his shoulder and hurling it away. 'Revolting little beasts,
aren't they? Ow!' He stomped on one that was biting his ankle.
Recovering from their initial shock, soldiers lounging outside nearby taverns rushed forward, swinging
swords and stabbing with daggers. Reiner and Hennig jumped down and joined them.
'Second time today,' said a crossbowman. 'Things just like this attacked the camp hospital not two
hours ago. Killed a score of wounded before we put 'em down.'
()
'Hang on, lad.' Reiner grabbed Hennig under the arms and dragged him as fast as he could toward the
closed door. It wasn't fast enough. A nurgling leapt on Reiner's back. Three climbed up his legs.
Another bit into his arm. They were crawling over Hennig like roaches. The boy swatted at them
weakly, but they only bit his hands.
A nurgling clawed Reiner's neck. He dropped Hennig involuntarily and flung the little beast away.
Hennig instantly disappeared under the wave of vermin. Reiner tried to pull him out, but nurglings
swarmed around him, biting and scratching him to the bone. He roared with rage and pain and was
forced to leap onto a parked draycart, stamping his feet and scraping with dagger and sabre to
dislodge the beasts that clung to him. He was bleeding all over.
'Reiner!' shrieked Hennig, his voice unrecognizable in his terror. 'Reiner, save me!'
Hennig was but a thrashing mound under the madly squirming forms. An arm shot up out of the mass,
clawing the air. It was stripped, only a few pink scraps hanging from wet bones. Then the arm sank
again, falling apart as it dropped. The little daemons had even eaten the cartilage.
Reiner's throat constricted. His friend was gone, who had moments before been a laughing, skirt-
chasing lad with a contagious smile. 'Hennig... Karl. I... Gods, what am I to tell your mother?'
()
'Save me!' cried Anyaka. 'Save me, gentles! He means to slay me!'
'Stop her!' bellowed Reiner. 'She's a sorceress! She's loosed a plague upon us!'
But both appeals were lost in a rising chorus of shrieks and curses as the nurglings erupted from the
kitchen and fell upon the revellers. Harlots screamed and climbed the furniture, drunken knights
roared and bashed at the nurglings with daggers, bottles and candlesticks, shouting for their swords.
In their inebriated state, the men did as much damage to each other as to the nurglings: wild swings
cut fingers, mashed toes and bloodied noses. Fights broke out among friends.
In this carnage the nurglings flourished; raking eyes, biting hands and feet, opening veins in leg, neck
and arm. All over the room harlots and soldiers alike shrieked as blood pumped from shredded
arteries. Others fell to the floor with severed tendons to drown in a chittering swell of teeth and claws.
Caught in this mad whirlpool, Reiner and Anyaka continued their chase. Reiner felt like he was in a
dream, where no matter how swiftly he ran, he moved only inches, but at last he cornered the sorceress
in a romantic nook, complete with a love seat and plaster cherubs.
'Spare me!' cried Anyaka, piteously.
'As you spared Hennig?' Reiner pulled back for the killing thrust, but strong hands pinned his arms.
'How now, sir?' said a black-bearded knight. 'Do you violence to the good lady?'
'For shame.' said another, a blond giant with cavalry braids.
'She's not a good lady.' panted Reiner. 'She's a priestess of Nurgle!'
'Protect me, noble knights!' Anyaka begged. 'It is he who is a servant of Nurgle. It is he who has
summoned these foul vermin.'
'A sorcerer, hey?' said the first knight. 'He has the look.'
'Don't believe her!' said Reiner desperately. 'She wears marks of Chaos carved into her very flesh. Open
her robe and look for yourself.'
The blond knight punched him in the face. 'Swine! Dare you ask us to abuse a Sister of Shallya thus?'
Reiner spat blood. 'But she's-'
He was interrupted as a pack of nurglings discovered the party and attacked. Anyaka bolted from the
alcove. Roaring in pain, the knights dropped Reiner and slashed at the nurglings with wild abandon.
Reiner wormed between the two giants, chopping at clinging nurglings as he went, and ran back into
the salon. He spied Anyaka through the surging crowd, making for the kitchen. He ploughed after her,
and after a frantic push reached the kitchen and rushed through it. A serving maid sobbed, eyeless, in a
corner. The cook lay sizzling in his cooking fire, dead from a thousand bites.- Hetzaus Follies
Nurglings always attacks in small swarms and are usually found hanging around Great Unclean
Ones who it treats like a parent. Outside of combat and if there is no force of Nurgle nearby
Nurglings will veer off on their own, heading to traces of enemy civilization. There they will inflict
all sorts of mischief, ruining crops and wells, hiding valuables, poisoning the population,
expiring food ect.
In the old lore there were ways mortals could accidently become pregnant with Nurglings after
stepping in Greater Daemon excrement and have one of these creatures grow inside their
abdomens before eventually emerging from either end of the digestive track. This process wasnt
normally fatal but always very discomforting.
Mobility: 5
Training/Experience:
(Variable for Daemons)
Max Range : 200 meters
Preferred Range: ^^
Flamers are strange beings,

appearing fungoid in
appearance with tubular
bodies, grimacing faces and
gangly arms. Flamers are
capable of a fair turn of
speed, expelling gaseous
ichor through the fungoid
skirt at their base to bound
and leap across the ground
with considerable
mischievous gusto. As with Horrors they are shown to be used as automatons, to be moved by the
Lords of Change at will. Hordes of them are described as appearing on the battlefield.
In combat they usually fling magical yellow and blue flame from afar that doesnt just burn flesh but
reality also. A Flamers victim might briefly feel invigorated, before collapsing into a writhing
puddle of flesh. . Its no less deadly in melee, able to use those flaming arms to char foes as strong
as a knight.
Perhaps most disturbingly when the Flamer is

killing someone a mocking, insubstantial
marionette forms at its feat. This being is a crude
parody of the being before it, but nerveless mocks
its inspiration and everything around it in a
manner both irritating and disturbing. Often the
Flamer itself will get annoyed and kill it but other
times only time causes it to fade away, and
sometimes mocking laughter will be heard on the
battlefield for years afterwards.
There also exists the rare Exalted Flamer. These

are tougher and have greater range with their
flames.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: The flamer has the ability to throw

flame at a distance of 100 meters and use it in close
quarters. As Warp flame at times this flame will
randomly do extra damage after hitting or potentially even heal the foe.
Defensive: Nothing other than having some

minor reality warping defense as do all daemons
of Tzeentch.
This, like the Nurglings of Nurgle, are the horde

unit of Tzeentch .
Mobility: 9
Screamers are glittering sky-sharks of Tzeentchs forces who

are corralled and sent into aerial combat. . By themselves the
screamers, like most but the top of Tzeentchs forces, have no
intelligence of their own and are creatures of instinct. They
normally spend their days prowling the Winds of Magic looking
for souls to eat .
When in a mortal realm they herd in packs, attracted by the

carnage and emotion offered by the battlefield below. When not
under anothers control they behave like sharks in a feeding
frenzy, occasionally swooping down to tear throw armor and gobble the mortal below. This has
been described as
somewhat indiscriminate
feeding, and it seems
likely they might attack
the minions of Chaos as
well as those of its
enemies. However they
can be controlled by savvy
minions of Change such as
its Lords and directed
tactically to hit enemy
artillery, swarm a isolated
force or engage enemy
flying units.
So swift and agile are

Screamers that they are
highly sought after as
steeds, however their
instinctive nature swiftly
proves calamitous should
their controllers attention
wander. As such, a
Screamer has to be transmuted into a new form before it can safely be used as a mount. See Discs
of Tzeentch profile for more.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: It is a flying creature that mostly attacks with a lamprey-like mouth and slashing claws.
Defensive: Nothing other than having some minor reality warping defense as do all daemons of
Tzeentch.
This is another swarm creature, like the Flamer or Nurgling.

Mobility: 9
The grey seer turned to flee, coming up short as

he saw his way blocked by a grotesque daemon-
thing. It was as big as an ox-rat, scuttling towards
him on six spiky legs, its snake-like head tapering
into a puckered mouth from which an obscene
tongue flickered. Enormous claws sprouted from its
shoulders and arched over its scaly back was a
club-like tail tipped by a dripping stinger.
Nashrik cried out in fright, focusing his mind

upon a spell to obliterate the disgusting
monstrosity. Yet even as he tried to work his magic,
his nose was filled with a strange, sickly-sweet
scent. His thoughts became fuzzy, coherence
collapsing beneath a warm idiocy. The warpstone
fell from Nashriks slackened grip, rolling away into
the grass. The grey seer stood unmoving as the
daemon-beast crawled towards him. He didnt even
try to escape the mangling claws that snapped tight about his body or cry out when the poisoned
stinger stabbed into his chest.- Hour of Shadows, Storm of Magic
Fiends are incredibly swift, able to skitter and scuttle across all manner of terrain at
frightening speed. There is something disturbing about a Fiends gait, for its twitching dance rocks
it from side to side. In this way, a Fiend will take at least three or four steps for every pace it
advances, splayed legs beating out an arrhythmic toccata that praises the glory of the Dark Prince of
Chaos. The Fiends sing to one another as they run, emanating a high-pitched and pervasive chitter
that few mortals consciously hear.
Though a Fiend is perhaps frailer than other Daemons of the same stature, only a fool would
underestimate its combat prowess. Quite apart from the significant peril posed by the Fiends
deadly claws, an adversary should also be wary of the stinger atop its supple and segmented tail.
This barb is laced with soporific venom capable of sending even a battle maddened Bloodletter
into a deep coma. Similarly, the Fiend exudes a pervasive and oily musk that, when inhaled,
courses through its victims body, gnawing away at centers of reason and numbing the foe, slowing
them down in combat.
A corner of the battlefield under attack from Fiends of Slaanesh is often quiet, with musk-addled
victims waiting insensate for the Fiends to deliver the fatal blow. This oblivion can be a time
coming, for Fiends are no less given to torture than the D ark Princes other minions. When the
effects of the Fiends musk fade, the victim experiences simultaneous agony from a dozen
wounds.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: It is armed with pincer like claws and a barbed tail loaded with one of the most potent
sleep-inducing toxins ever conceived. Their reaction time exceeds even elves.
Defensive: The musk that surrounds the Slaaneshi daemon slowly gnaws away the centers of
reason, resulting in those in its immediate presence moving and attacking slower.
Normally these creatures hand around the flanks of the Slaaneshi force, trying to envelop when the
battle proper begins. According to the Malus Darkblade chronicles, they are agile enough to
vertically climb up walls!
Mobility: 8
Training/Experience: (Variable for

Daemons)
Max & Effective Range: Spell Range
Preferred Range: Spell
Unlike the ground-based chariots of his

fellow gods, Tzeentchs are fully capable of
flight and are more skirmisher based then
melee . When they appear on the battlefield
they suddenly burst from the heavens like a
flying comet. Exalted flamers riding on top of
this vessel hurls down magical flame , bolts
of change or even spells down on the
targets below.
These chariots are piloted by discs and

screamers who ride the Winds of Magic and
feed on its residue. Occasionally they will
also have, in addition to the flamer, two surly
Blue Horrors who ride these beasts to get
away from the incessantly cheerful Pink
Horror. While in general these passengers just jeer insults at foes below, they will nevertheless rain
down peppering fire and bite , club or throttle those that get too close.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: The Exalted Flamer primarily can use two types of flame. That of the Pink Horror attacks
a singular or a couple targets with great force, while that of the Blue Horror is akin to grapeshot. As
Warpflame, this attack has a chance to do even greater damage over time or randomly heal the
enemy. The Flamer has a staff in case enemies get close, while the Blue Horrors club or bite.
Defensive: Its main defense is that its a fast flying machine that can be rather difficult to hit.
Can be used by Heralds as a mount (see Chariots of the Gods).

Mobility: 8
Seeker Chariots are not subtle creations. As the

straining steeds urge the chariot to full speed,
swirling shapes sear the air with unholy hues and
the metal axles screech in a disharmony akin to
the wailing of tormented souls. Indeed, to stand
against such machinery is not simply a
contest of arms, but a struggle of wills that
shakes the boundaries of sanity. When the
chariot finally crashes home, the Daemonettes
dance from yoke to spar, laughing as their
disemboweling strikes weave bloody trails in the
air.
Heralds of Slaanesh often elect to ride into battle

atop an Exalted Chariot. From here, the Herald
can reach down to whisk victims from the
chariots razored maw. Such is not an act of
kindness. Indeed, enemies claimed in this
manner soon start screaming to be returned to
the embrace of the merciless blades below, if it
means they will remain not a moment longer in
the grasp of the doting Heralds cruel affections.
Traditionally Hellflayers were used as corpse cleanup by Slaanesh, who hated that they were
polluting the perfect purity of his realm. Their blades were perfect for cutting up corpses into very
small and neat pieces Slaanshs plants could devour. Those unlucky Daemonettes assigned to aid in
this duty were greatly aggrieved, for tending corpses leads to no extremes of emotion or thrill that
combat does. It could be so boring that Daemonettes would eventually waste away from lack of
sensation. So one day one pair of particularly willful Daemonettes brought a Hellflayer directly to
the battlefield.
The result was pure slaughter . Within moments, blades prepared for rotting corpses proved just as
keen when set upon living flesh. Severed heads and limbs flew like chaffed wheat; daemonic
ichor spattered across the Hellflayer;s steeds and crew. It drove the Daemonettes into ecstasy. As
its blades sank into flesh, each victims every suffering was transmuted into a spiritual incense so
intoxicating that it drove the Daemonettes into an impassioned frenzy, magnifying their
speed until their strikes became so swift that no
eye could follow them.
When Slaanesh found out he was both pissed and

happy beyond measure. While the Daemonttes who
brought the Hellflayer to battle were turned into
giant unfeeling statues the Chaos god finally relented
and allowed Hellflayers to come into combat. Though
comparably rare, ever since then Hellflayers have
been driven in the vanguard of a strike force, its
blades slicing and maiming.
Three of the wretches were slaughtered instantly,

dragged into that maelstrom of wicked Daemon-steel.
The fourth, through some laughing fate, became
snagged on the central chain. For a moment he hung
there, his heels scraped Moody as the machine charged
on. One of the Daemonettes reached out a claw. At first
she caressed the wretch's cheek, like a mother soothing
a frightened child. Then, as I knew it must, her doting
smile transformed into a leer of pure wickedness. The
claw was a blur as it snipped at the victims wrists. A
moment later all that remained of the fellow were his severed hands - still clutching the chain - and an
empty scream echoing through the night.'
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Seeker chariots have scythes attached to their wheels, are pulled by steeds with that
tongue attack, and daemonettes reach out with claws. The Hellflayer has all that but its scythes are
more akin to being a lawnmower.
Defensive: Little defense for mounts or drivers but vehicle is pretty durable.
Mobility: 4
Training/Experience: (Variable for

Daemons)
I watched as the Furies picked over the

corpse, squabbling in harsh tongues as
they argued over the juiciest morsels from
the feast.'
Chaos Furies are the embodiment of pure Chaos. With little in the way of intelligence, Furies are
utterly subservient to the whims of the D ark Gods, and shift in aspect and power as the balance of
the dark pantheon alters. They are easily subjugated by other Daemons, whom they regard with a
mix of dread and awe. However they are not always treated the same by daemonkind. Those of
Tzeentch like to use them as messengers and spies for instance, while Khorne does not generally
use them unless he has no other means left to kill with.
Furies swarm at the edges of the battle, avoiding the thickest fighting if they can. This is
because they are cowards by nature, deeply afraid of death and pain. More often than not their
victims are the wounded and disabled while on the battlefield, for only when they are sure they
can get a kill without much toil will they go for it; otherwise they might run away! However when
these furies descend en masse they are described as a wailing mass from which there can be no
escape. Those who flee are chased by natural predators who will not cease so long as they are able
to chase. Also can be controlled by chaos sorcerers and forced into battle en masse.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: The Chaos fury attacks with claws

and dozens of needle-like teeth.
Defensive: Other than it can fly nothing, and

the Fury is noted for being very weak for a
daemon.
Chaos Furies never appear except in Swarms, and are thus used in that fashion.
Mobility: 1-2 (6 if it can get a lock on a
mage)
Max & Effective Range: 360 m
Standing over thirty feet tall, the

cygor is the distant and unfortunate
cousin of the minotaur. From its birth
the cygor is cursed to see not the
material realm through its single eye,
but the winds of magic. Trees, most
rocks, and other geography do not
register in its sight and so it spends
most of its time crashing into such
obstacles. Too regular men and
animals only barely appear in its sight
and the Cygor has trouble perceiving
much of anything in the swirling rush
of melee. What it can and does perceive
though, with great clarity, are wizards and other magic users.
This range of detection can be many miles and does not just apply to wizards. Magical items,
armor, weapons, the undead, and any summoned creatures that are also magical can be seen
perfectly. Once detected the Cygor will lumber forward at terrible speeds, eager to drain the souls
of these magic users. This is why the Cygor invokes great terror in enemy magicians.
A Cygor is lured to the brayherd by either taunting visions sent by the Dark Gods or a powerful
bray-shaman. Past that there is little coordination between the two groups. When unleashed on the
battlefield Cygors seek magic users or magical creatures like sharks seek blood. They will
instinctively charge towards such figures, giving everything else only the most cursory of glances. If
enemy ranks prove particularly annoying then the cygor will hurl giant rune-inscribed boulders
at them to smash them out of the way. Nothing can truly dissuade it for it is immune to fear effects
and resistant to any orders whatsoever to get it to retreat. Should he
catch his prey the Cygor will devour it mind, body, and most
importantly soul.
The giant figure resembled the beastmen at its feet, ox-headed, cloven-
hoofed and draped in human bones and skin, but it had been magnified to
insane proportions. It reared over the tree spirits, more than thirty feet
tall and crowned with enormous, horizontal horns. As it entered the
smoke-wreathed battle it glared down at the mayhem with an enormous, cyclopean eye.
Isha preserve us, Caorann heard one of the archers say. What is it?
Eremon howled another furious order, demanding that the kinbands maintain their fire, but some of
the archers were too shocked to obey. As they watched the giant approaching through the smoke, they
lowered their bows and backed towards the water, muttering prayers under their breath.
Caorann frowned as he watched the monsters advance. It moved with odd, lurching bounds, shaking
embers from the surrounding trees as it pounded across the sacred meadow. Its movements were
random; there seemed no logic to its erratic lunges and it appeared confused by the crowds surging
around its legs. Then Caorann gasped as he saw the giant fix its lantern-like gaze on a forest spirit: a
ghostly blackthorn, tearing and hacking its way through the battle. The giant beastman abandoned its
erratic wandering and leapt with shocking speed, reaching down with unnerving accuracy and
wrenching the spirit from the ground. There was a groan of splintering roots as the monster lifted the
thrashing shape up into the air and bit into it like a choice cut of meat.
Caorann watched in horror as the cyclopean creature gorged itself on the spirit. As it did so, the light
in its enormous eye blazed even brighter. Then it fixed its malevolent gaze on another forest spirit,
wrenched it from the ground and destroyed it with a snort of pleasure. It was as though it could see
the ghostly spectres with more ease than its own army.
Its eye, muttered Caorann. It is not fixed on this world. It sees the realm of the spirits.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Rune inscribed giant boulders for range, though occasionally he hurts himself with it.
Also has massively oversized claws and horns for close combat.
Defensive: Counts as magically resistant and is also very tough given its size however of course its
eye is a weak point.
Due to the nature of the creature and the difficulty in getting it to come along with the army, this
can creature can be considered "rare". However as the Wood Elf novel series shows, this rarity can
still translate into dozens of these creatures being present on the battlefield at once if the
Beastmen come en masse.
Mobility: 7
Max & Effective Range: 100

meters
"The Jabberslythe is a creature

so disturbing to look at, that an
aura of madness surrounds it.
To gaze at such a beast is to
invite having your sanity
ripped asunder. It is said that
a Jabberslythe is so horrible to view, that even clear pools of water will not offer up a reflection and
that those unfortunate enough to get an unobstructed look at them are likely to claw out their own
eyes in an attempt to escape the nightmarish visions that will forever haunt them.
The Jabberslythe is a hulking thing that combines the unwholesome appearances of a toad, sludge-
drake and a many-limbed insect. It has rudimentary wings that allow short bursts of ungainly
flight and its gaping maw houses a long, sticky proboscis-like tongue that darts out to snare prey.
Jabberslythes are always hungry. Attracted to any noise or movement, they lurk in the undergrowth
of the deepest parts of large forests, immobile save for great hooded eyes that watch for the
slightest twitch. When victims are detected, the Jabberslythe bursts forth, the sight of such a
hideous creature stunning its quarry into madness.
It will then lollop towards them, scooping up the gibbering foe and devouring them to the sounds of
their own maniacal noises which sound much like the laughter of madmen. Those that somehow
cling to their sanity must face the Jabberslythes vorpal claws and the fanged orifice that serves as
the creatures mouth. When wounded, the foul beast spurts not blood, but an acidic black fluid
that burns anything it touches making fighting a Jabberslythe an even deadlier proposition."
--From Scrolls of Binding
Even the Beastmen fear the nearly thirty-foot tall Jabberslythe, for they too go mad within its
aura. However gifted shamans can ensure that the Jabberslythe avoids the brayherd as much as
possible and head directly for the enemy. The sight of the enemy line crumbling in terror and
insanity is most pleasing to the Beastmen.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: The Jabberslythe has an extremely long and strong tongue that can extend outward
dozen s of meters before pulling it in. At closer ranges it has its powerful jaw and deadly
claws. Some variants also have a lash tail.
Metternich cursed and Felixs attention was drawn upwards in the moment before something long
and pale shot down out of the darkness, slapping against Metternichs face like a wet rag. The
mercenary dropped his torch and reached up to claw at the fleshy tendril. Even as the first muffled
scream issued from his mouth, he was yanked bodily into the darkness above, his legs kicking futilely. A
moment later, there was a crunch and then a deluge of blood that struck the floor like a hard rain. Still
chewing on the luckless mercenary a monstrous shape scuttled along the curve of the ceiling, marking
its path with a trail of blood. Felix peered into the darkness above, raising his torch to try and see what
it was that they faced. At his feet, the maddened halfling was whining like a whipped dog.-Marriage of
Moment
However its most powerful move is its aura of insanity that effects everything within 100 meters. In
particular it is said to look at the creature is far worse than just being in its presence The
effectiveness of such an aura is determined by the following modifiers - morale, bravery,
discipline, determination (represented in game with the attribute "leadership"), any magical
resistance, and how much the unit is naturally immune to such attacks (i.e. without
capability of fear). A heroic character like Gotrek, for example, has no problems looking directly at
a Jabberslythe and fighting it however the halflings around him at the time, even Felix, would have
gone mad doing so. For those cowardly fighters without discipline expect whole swathes to go
insane or rout. For those supersoldiers who have fought this type of monster before and score
high among those modifiers, expect little effect from this aura.
Felix recognized the dandified halfling whod first spoken out against his inclusion. The fancy hat,
with its feather, lay stomped into shapelessness nearby, and its owner was curled into a whimpering
ball, arms over his head and his sword still in its sheath. More startling, however, was the fact that his
hair had turned a greasy shade of white.-Marriage of Moment
Without warning something monstrous burst out from the largest of the caves, blood drizzling from
its bearded maw. Part toad, part insect, part dragon, the thing was so vile that even Spumes elite
warriors stumbled backwards at the sight. A clawed tongue shot through the air where the largest of
their number had stood a heartbeat before stumbling away, the sticky appendage retracting with a
snap. The drooling monster gave a guttural roar that attacked the mind from within. Several of the
armoured warriors cried out, smashing axes and mauls into their own helmets in an attempt to escape
the raw hideousness assaulting their senses.
(..)
Suddenly a horrible snorting bawl rang out across the clearing. Attracted by the strange moonlight
that had lit the clearing, the Harbingers jabberslythe flopped into the fray, its greasy bulk slamming a
trio of ungor into boneless mush as it passed. The air itself shimmered and writhed at the foul beasts
presence as it loped into the ranks of the savage orcs. All around it greenskins shivered and shook,
hacking at their own bodies in fits of raw madness as the creatures indescribable aura worked its
strange magic. The jabberslythe opened its bearded maw wide, shooting its sticky, grasping tongue
high to pluck the goblin shaman from its cobwebbed perch. The shrieking greenskin was yanked into
the beasts mouth, vanishing with a wet smack of rubbery lips.-End Times Glottkin
- Glottkin
Defensive: Its large and thus already quite resistant to attacks. Also has acid blood that sprays
everywhere when hit.
Due to the nature rarity of these creatures, risk of having them along, and difficulty in getting them
to obey orders, expect them to be rare. That said, as Gotrek and Felix short story Marriage of
Moment reveals that some Jabberslythes molt and through this molting breed more of them.
Though these creatures lack the insanity inducing auras of the adults they can still rip apart foes in
numbers. Just one Jabberslythe can create dozens of little ones.
The sound of skittering had grown louder. For a moment, Felix thought he was the only one to hear it
and then he saw the guards eyes widen in sudden horror.
One cursed and ripped his sword from its sheath, even as a horde of miniature jabberslythes poured
out from the tunnel, stunted wings flapping, tiny mouths open in a sibilant cacophony of mingled
shrieks. Men screamed as the typhoon of biting, clawing, screaming monsters enveloped them. Felix
cursed and swept his cloak out and around him, knocking the creatures from the air. He lashed out
with his torch, setting several alight. Others landed on him, biting and snarling shrilly.
Gotrek was cursing and roaring, whirling his axe about with brutal abandon. Shandeux screamed as
he was bowled over by a number of the creatures. The halfling kicked and howled and then fell silent
as he disappeared beneath the creatures. Felix hesitated and saw Esme and Stefano striking out at the
attacking beasts with their daggers. Quick, under my cloak, he shouted. The two halflings did as he
said, and Felix did the best he could to keep them all covered beneath the thick wool garment.
Gotrek had picked up a fallen torch and was whipping it about along with his axe. Get the hair-foots
out of here, manling!
What about you? Felix shouted.
Ill be along in a moment! Go!
Hunching his shoulders against the battering cloud of monsters, Felix started moving towards the exit.
Through a rip in the material, he saw a guard pitch forward, covered in a living blanket of struggling,
frog-like bodies. From the sound of his screams, Felix thought the man was being eaten alive. He flailed
about him with his torch as they ran through the corridors and back into the keep.
The jabberslythes seemed intent only on attacking everything that moved. Servants and guards and
halflings alike were running through the keep, screaming and cursing as the plague of little creatures
spread through the interior of the keep in an orgy of gnashing teeth and foul, frog-like bodies. Shaking
the last few determined creatures off his cloak, he turned, hoping to see Gotrek following them.-
Marriage of Moment
Mobility: 6
"Stamp and trample! Gore and Crush!" -pg 35,

Beastman codex
Doombulls are the strongest and most ferocious of the Minotaur clans, clad in plate armor to make
them an even more terrifying foe to face. They are also the leaders of these tribes, though it is not
because of intelligence or charisma. Rather in typically blunt beastman fashion it is due to their
greater size and the ability to instill fierce bloodlust in those that surround it. When the Chaos
moon is high in the sky or Doombulls feel particularly bloodthirsty they will roar a bellowing call
that attracts all those miles around, soon accumulating hundreds of Minotaurs and even regular
Beastmen eager for blood.
When Doombulls attack they charge with the force and fury of a freight train, bursting through
buildings, lines and all but the toughest fortifications. Once inside the slaughter begins, as
minotaurs have been known to lay waste to entire villages, even minor cities. At times there is so
much death and carnage that not even the Minotaurs can consume it all! If they are part of an army
the doombull will naturally single enemy leaders out and focus their charge on them, cleaving
through those in the path.
The relationship between Doombulls and other Beastmen leaders is usually very simplistic. A bray-
shaman, or extremely respected beastlord, just points at a certain section of the enemy lines and
tells the Doombull to charge there. Some of the more cunning Bray-Shamans might even attempt
to take control of the Doombull as he would another large beast, however if the Doombull finds
out about this the resulting rage will be so great that he will overcome his phobia of the "bad luck"
that comes from slaying Bray-Shamans.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Large Horns and a number of hand weapons form the Doombull's arsenal. He is also
physically strong enough to rip people in half, burst through barricades/static lines, and tear
enemies limb from limb with his teeth. Sometimes he may carry a Greatsword, massive axe,
mace or a magic weapon (see Beastlord profile). Mutations like better armor-skin, additional limbs
or gouge-tusks would all be exceptionally potent for the Doombull.
Defensive: The Doombull possesses incredible innate durability and may wear leather or plate
armor . May be equipped with a shield. May take the magic items and trinkets the beastlord can
equip
The Doombull's greatest trait, even more so then its ability to bust through enemy lines, is the
passive field of Bloodlust it creates. Any units that accompany it are driven to greater acts of
frenzied violence, becoming more fearless and ferocious. Like Minotaurs they have a tendency
to consume some foes right in the middle of battle, ignoring everything else momentarily.
Then Einarr
had no more
time for
thoughts of
berserkers and
beasts. The
ground
shuddered
beneath him
as something
monstrous
forced its way
across the
plaza. Even
the clouds of flies seemed to part before it. It towered above the Hung, even the tallest of the tribesmen
failing to rise to its breast. Its bloated body was coated in scabs and lesions, its bestial head little more
than a fleshless skull. Mangy patches of fur dripped off its body and from the sides of its head great
horns, cracked and filthy, jutted menacingly. In its massive paws, the beast carried an enormous
hammer, the stone-head caked in slime and sludge. The minotaur fixed Einarr with its beady gaze, the
lone eye staring out from its left socket looking like a tiny ball of pus. The plaguebull snorted, smashing
its hoof against the ground, and charged.
Einarr leapt aside as the plaguebull brought its mattock hurtling downward, pulverizing the ground
and sending shards of earth and stone flying in all directions. The minotaur did not hesitate to even
consider its missed strike but with astounding speed swept the hammer up from the crater it had
smashed into the ground, trying to catch Einarr with the side of the weapon. The Norscan threw
himself flat, ducking under the blow. The hammer crashed against the sacrificial stake, smashing it
into splinters. Einarr lashed out at the beast, his sword slashing deep into its side. Putrid water slopped
from the wound in the brutes belly, but if the plaguebull felt pain, it gave no sign. Instead it swung
around, bringing the hammer about in a deadly arc of ruin. A pair of Hung were crushed as Einarr
dove away from the strike, thrown through the air by the impact of the great hammer. Plaguebull
from Palace of the Plague Lord
Mobility: 6
Max Range: Melee
Of the beastmen even the minotaurs look up in

fear at the massive Ghorgon. And with good
reason, for in addition to having stupendous size
it is also the ultimate embodiment of a
beastman's eternal hunger and hatred. If left to
its own devices it will freely gorge on an entire
Beastman encampment in a single night. All
beastmen believe that by eating their enemies
they gain their strength, and the Ghorgons
embody their belief wholeheartedly.
They are massive four armed titans. In two

arms are blades or axes to cut up prey, in two
other arms are grasping hands with which to swallow enemies hole. Sometimes they possess
truly bizarre mutations like mouths erupting out of their entire body or a giant one where the heart
should be leading directly to the stomach.
The only way the beastherd can control these creatures is through shamans, and even then it takes
dozens of ordinary beastmen (most likely ungors) per Ghorgon to keep them satiated
through campaign. If the controlling shaman were ever to die, such numbers would skyrocket.
However it is worth it though for once these creatures appear on the battlefield they unleash untold
destruction on the enemy, breaking through ranks and swallowing everything it can whole. Of
course its borderline uncontrollable in this state and won't listen to commands, however the
damage and sheer terror it invokes does wonders to enemy morale. Still on at least on occasion a
gang of Ghorgons would have broken Imperial lines and won a battle for the Beastmen against the
Empire, however they stopped in the middle of battle to consume those they killed. Partially as a
result of that the battle was won by a rallying Empire.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: It has two arms with cleavers/axes, two arms with strength enough to crush men, and
the potential many, many mouths. Anything beneath it gets trampled.
Defensive: Not only is it incredibly large and
durable, but as it eats it actually regenerates
wounds.
Logistics wise the more of these creatures

there are, the more Beastmen will have to
feed their own to it.
Mobility: Can run at a 6, but has trouble not tripping and falling so it gets a 3. Siege Giants
apparently have so much trouble they get a 2.
Lost and done. Our empire is no more, lost in the sands, trampled by insects. Ours is the long slow fade
to quiet. Ironic for we whose voices once shook the mountains roots. Not many left to mourn our
passing now, not that you scurrying parasites would bother. Of course we turn to drink... or to the
darkness in the North. Both are ways of forgetting what weve lost. Amorgbrandion, Giant Raider
Giants are massive, monstrous humanoids, around sixty feet tall, with a tendency towards
violence, consumption of those smaller than them, and alcohol. Such traits obviously endear them
greatly to the legions of chaos, and they can frequently be found among the armies of Beastmen,
Warriors of Chaos, and even Chaos Dwarves . In battle they wade through enemy ranks,
slaughtering all those in their path at will.
Long ago, many millennia, giants once had a peaceful realm, masters of great domains at the tips of
mountains. Unfortunately the barbarous ogres, who live to eat everything, came upon these great
domains . Though Ogres were creatures vastly smaller than the Giants, these giants tended to live in
solitude, while ogres grouped up. Thus though the purge took a long time, it was complete and
resulted in the near extinction of their species.
Giants have since rebounded but they are a far-cry now from the once peaceful beings. Corrupted
by Chaos, they are now extremely malevolent and unintelligent. They are a part of no army
now, only following behind and joining in for the sole purpose of slaughter. This and the siren call of
Chaos has now become instinctive among their race.
Giants don't follow orders, both because the idea of taking orders from something far smaller than
them is laughable and because it makes their heads hurt. The most Chaos commanders can get out
of these creatures is the understanding that Chaos has much blood and death to offer them in
return for inflicting carnage and not killing too many of their own men. In battle they thus
instinctively wade into enemy ranks, alternating between a myriad of actions, while Chaos
commanders plan around the distraction they inflict.
If Chaos giants have a weakness it is that they are extremely ungainly. They have an unfortunate
tendency to sometimes fall down when they attempt to stomp an enemy, flee, cross any sort of
rough terrain, or beat in close quarters combat. Those that it falls upon, which can include chaos
forces, are squished.
The ground shook as the giant approached, until he was in full sight, towering ten times the height of
the orcs he accompanied. He was naked except for a loincloth crudely cut from the hide of a bull, its
skull still attached, and in his monstrous right fist the giant clasped a club hewn from a tree, a boulder
inexpertly wedged into its splitting branches and tied in place with thick rope. Goblins scattered as the
giant approached, dodging out from under his huge feet as rocks were pulverised under his tread.
'Mother of Sigmar...' said Soval, his arms dropping limply to his sides, axes slipping from his
fingers.
'Don't blaspheme!' snapped Ursula, sheathing her sword. She grabbed the dog of war's axes
and thrust them into his hands. He took them, blinked at Ursula and then nodded to show that he was
alright.
A sharp crack echoed off the walls and a puff of smoke wisped into the air as one of the
marksmen turned from the fight with the orc archers at the far end of the convoy and targeted the
giant. The bullet whistled overhead and smacked into the giant's leg. The giant gave a surprised grunt
and looked at the humans waiting nervously in the canyon. He looked down stupidly at the thin trail of
blood trickling down his thigh from the pinprick wound and then back up again.
The giant's shout was deafening as it bounced off the canyon walls, shaking the wagons and
causing rocks to cascade down to the valley floor. Ursula clamped her hands to the ears, dizzied by the
volume of the roar.
'Gurt hurt!' the giant yelled, raising his club into the air. The monster broke into a lumbering
run, his foot squashing a wolf rider who had been caught unawares by the sudden charge.
Covering a dozen yards with every stride, the giant lumbered up the mountainside, his broad
mouth twisted in anger, a deep scowl creasing his heavy set brow. The horses were whinnying in terror
behind Ursula, straining at their traces, the mules braying and kicking to be freed from their tethers.
The orcs and goblins swarmed forward in the giant's wake, their hoarse cheers accompanied by the
clattering of their weapons, rapid drumbeats and brash horn blasts.
'Hold the line!' roared Leonard, striding forward, zweihander held aloft. 'Hold and we can
win!'
Ursula felt a large presence next to her and she glanced right to see Ruprecht standing close
by, warhammer head resting at his feet. He looked calmly up at the onrushing giant, shielding the sun
from his eyes with the bandaged and bloodied stump of his left arm.
'Aren't you afraid?' she asked in amazement, her own voice trembling.
'Bloody terrified,' Ruprecht said between gritted teeth, not looking round.
A short laugh burst from Ursula's mouth, edged with mania.
'Don't worry, I've survived uglier things than this,' Ruprecht said. Ursula couldn't see his eyes
and so had no way of telling if he was being truthful or not.
The giant was just fifty yards away now. A crackling volley of pistol fire from the Black
Company engulfed the monstrous creature, his skin erupting in a welter of small bloody explosions as
bullets tore through his leathery skin. Moaning in pain, the giant's advance slowed for a moment, and
then resumed.
'Red Spear forward!' ordered Swinefever, leading his company half a dozen paces ahead of the
Black Company. 'Prepare to receive the charge!'
Another giggle erupted from Ursula, as the horrendous understatement of the command
struck her.
'Don't lose it now, girl,' said Ruprecht, turning to face her, his eyes angry. 'You're better than
that.'
The approaching giant's shadow fell over the assembled soldiers, and a chill enveloped them.
Ursula shivered. I really am going to die here, she thought, drawing her sword again. It was ludicrously
thin compared to the sun-blocking bulk of the giant.
The fury of the giant fell on the Red Spears as it barrelled into them, swinging its club in a wide
arc. Many ducked the blow, their spears snapped in two or wrenched from their grasps, but three of
them were plucked from the ground and hurled through the air, the bloody pulp of their remains
splashing onto the rocks just in front of Ursula.
Those who still could, struck back with their demi-pikes, lancing the steel tips into the flesh of
the giant, more hafts snapping as they encountered the creature's tough hide, a few biting into the
thick muscle and fat beneath. The giant ignored their blows and raised his club over his head again.
The Black Company charged forward, heedless of the orcs that were closing in, their
greatswords flashing towards the giant. Bellowing in pain from its wounds, the giant raised its foot up,
and then brought it down on the swordsmen, shattering blades and crushing bodies. A childish yet
deafening laugh gurgled from the giant's throat as he raised his foot and stamped on the Black
Company again, reducing another handful of men to a ragged mess on the cracked stone floor of the
valley.
As the giant's foot lifted into the air for a third time, the Red Spears drove forwards, punching
their demi-pikes into the sole of the giant's bare foot. The laughing turned to a confused mewing as the
giant raised his foot higher to avoid the blows.
With a startled grunt, the giant began to topple backwards, tree trunk club falling from his
thick fingers and crushing two of the spearmen as he waved his arms in a vain attempt to stay
balanced. The goblins that had followed the giant up the hill faltered in their charge and then turned
to flee as his massive bulk came crashing down towards them. Over a dozen of them were not fast
enough, disappearing beneath the immense body of the giant, their panicked screeches cut short.
This scene comes from Blades of Chaos . Note that the giant featured would be very similar to a
regular Chaos Giant, though the Orc Giant is taller
then average and has no mutations. .
Men and Beasts of Chaos are not the only ones

that have taken note of the power of the Giant.
Too the Chaos Dwarfs have cast their wary but
greedy eyes on this beast; wary of past losses, but
greedy for future profit. A few of them have been
captured, often at great cost, and enslaved by the
pitiless dwarves. Being Dwarves, they are unable to resist improving upon them.
Most captured giants dont survive these improvements, but those that do are truly horrifying
creatures to face in combat. They are huge towers of iron and flesh capable of knocking down
fortifications and plowing through enemy armies. Weapons, ranging from vehicle sized picks to
weighted chain flails, and implanted on their arms. This is at the cost of being about 2x more
unwieldy then the normal Chaos giant. Such is the power and rarity of the creature that the Chaos
Dwarves are loath to trade them out to other armies for all but the most extortionate of prices.
Titanic shapes loomed over the warriors scrambling ahead of them towards the walls. They shoved
their way through the ruins, scattering rubble in their wake. They were immense, far larger than any
living thing had a right to be, and when they roared, the sky itself seemed to shiver in fright. The
lumpy, awkward figures strode forwards, heedlessly crushing men with every step. They were clad in
piecemeal armour, and great plates were seemingly riveted to their gangly limbs. Faces that were
yards across squirmed and grimaced in berserk pain within cruel helmets.
As he watched in growing horror, a bolt thrower on the wall fired, sending an arrow the size of a man
towards one of the giants. The bolt struck the overlapping armour plates and shattered, the force of
the blow barely staggering the monstrosity. Indeed, it only seemed to spur the beast and it roared and
stumbled forwards, raising its arms to reveal that its hands had been cruelly amputated and replaced
with massive steel hook-blades that looked as if they could pull apart stone.
Another beast had a set of flails attached to its forearm stumps, each length of chain tipped by a
weighted iron sphere. It jerked its arms and the flails swung ponderously. The third had wide-bladed
pick-axes, each as large as an ore-cart, chained to its gauntleted hands and it clashed them together in
a discordant cacophony as it stomped forwards.
In addition to their weapons, each of the monsters wore a heavy harness of chains and ropes that
swung about their legs. As Felix watched, the boldest among the men who ran around the giants' feet
clambered up the ropes and chains with wild shouts. The walls trembled beneath Felix's feet with every
step the creatures took.
'Siege-giants,' Gotrek said, and spat. 'Prepare yourself, manling. They intend to tear this wall apart
and us with it.' Gotrek and Felix, Road of Skulls
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Generally armed with a club and strong enough to bash through stone walls. Their lack
of intelligence also limits their options. When facing a creature their size they have a tendency to
yell and brawl, hit with a club, or bite.
When facing a creature smaller they either stomp them (sometimes falling over) , bash them with a
club or pick them up. If picked up the giant then either hurls it back into combat (at its own unit like
a missile), puts it into a bag to eat later, eaten, smashed, squish, or put down the giant's trousers.
The former and the last can in theory be rescued if the giant is dispatched quick enough, though the
latter probably has mental scarring.
Siege giants can be armed with picks
the size of carts, hooked axes,
swinging flails/scaling hooks attached
to their bodies as well as their own
strength. These scaling hooks allow the
giants body, if killed, to be used as a
scaling platform.
The Siege giant specializes in attacking

creatures its size with oversized picks
and legbreakers, however can also
smash and eviscerate those beneath it.
The third giant drove its shoulder into

the wall further down, close to where
King Ironfist had made his stand. The
massive pick-axe in its hand slashed out,
not at the rock, but at the dwarfs who
stood on it. The armoured body of a
hammerer flew backwards from the wall. Ungrim roared out a dour chant as his axe flashed, chopping
through the haft of the giant's weapon, shattering it. The giant screamed in rage and its second pick-
axe sank into the parapet with a crash. With a jerk of its deceptively gangly limb, it tore a section of
the wall away and flung it heedlessly behind it. A siege-tower exploded, caught in the wrong place at
the wrong time. Gotrek and Felix, Road of Skulls
Defensive: Being an incredibly large target it is highly durable to wounds. Also completely immune
to anything that tries to make it afraid, though it will still flee out of self-interest if the issue comes
up.
Siege Giants have armor near impervious to bullets or arrows, however at close quarters there are
apparently enough gaps that wounds on vitals can be inflicted (though few could brace such a
range!).
Chaos Siege Giants can be given runes of hate by the Chaos Dwarves that make them more
frenzied and brutal in combat. However both sets of giants have many weaknesses, requiring
much food and alcohol when being attached to an army and often apt to fall over. Indeed the
Siege Giant is the worst, and tends to fall down whenever it attacks, runs, gets hit and sometimes
just moves. As Road of Skulls shows they dont care where they step or swing their weapons,
leading many that follow too closely to die. Though Giants are rare, Tamurkhan was still able to
muster over a hundred of them for his campaign. Any normal giant can be turned into a Siege giant
with time, the Chaos Dwarfs effort, and the Chaos commanders will.
Mobility: 6
Max &Effective Range: Melee
'Shaggoth!' cried one of Malekith's soldiers, and the

prince knew it to be true.
The oldest legends of the dragons spoke of such creatures,

but Malekith had considered them to be myths from before
the rise of the elves; before even the coming of the Old Ones
and the banishment of the elven gods. Cousins to the
dragons who had ruled the world before the coming of the
gods, the shaggoths had bartered their souls to Chaos long
before the Dark Gods had arisen to claim this world. If the
dragons were to be believed, they had warred with the
shaggoths for an eternity until finally the dragons had
triumphed and driven their foes into hiding.
With the coming of Chaos, Malekith guessed, the shaggoths

had been roused from their lairs, and now one of the titanic creatures stared down at Malekith with
death-filled eyes. Lightning arced down from the storm clouds above, striking the shaggoth full on the
chest. The creature was invigorated rather than harmed, as coruscating energy rippled across its
gnarled skin.- The Sundering: Maleketh
Dragon Ogre Shaggoths are the great leaders of their race who fast bargained with the Chaos Gods,
giving over the soul of their race in return for immortality. For an unknown reason the Chaos
Gods still hold true to that bargain, and in return Shaggoths continue to march to war under their
banner.
A Dragon Ogre Shaggoth is a truly massive construct. Its arms have been described as wide as tree
trunks, bodies the size of small hills or enough to tower over the forest canopy and hair so
thick that tiny frost sprites clamber around within. Like regular Dragon Ogres, they bathe in
lightning in order to keep their immortality up. It is fortunate for the Old World that these creatures
so rarely wake up, spending most of its time hibernating. The lesser dragon ogres are far more
active.
Yet unfortunately the arrival of Archaeon has sent a call to all Dragon Ogres that the time to fight
for Chaos is now. Shoggoths are waking up by unprecedented numbers, and though Shaggoths are
rare among an already rare race, their presence is immediately felt.
The monstrous dragon creature smashed into a regiment of Talabecland pikemen, their weapons
shattering against its thick hide. Swords bounced from its ancient flesh and in reply, its huge axe swept
out and a dozen men died. Another score fell with every stroke of its blade and its huge claws crushed
men beneath its weight with every step. Its roar cracked the earth and lightning flared around it,
incinerating friend and foe alike. There could be no standing against such a terrifying creature and the
men of the Empire turned and fled, their standard falling to be trampled by the vast beast.
Nearby regiments, already hard pressed by the Kurgan tribesmen, stepped backwards despite the
shouted demands of their sergeants. Seeing this horrifying god of war amongst them spurred the
Kurgans to insane heights of bravery and they hurled themselves at the men of the Urszebya pulk with
unremitting fury. Ursuns Teeth
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: According to lore, they carry axes of such size that a dozen strongmen could only just
lift one!! Such a weapon is more fit to carving holes into enemy lines. They might also use massive
swords or mauls. Needless to, by strength alone the Shaggoth is extremely tough.
Defensive: Some Shaggoths have some pieces of ancient armor strapped haphazardly to them,
however their main defense is their thick, metal like scale and the fact that as such a large creature
they can endure normal wounds more than their small brethren. Any electricity attack empowers
and heals them.
Shaggoths are fiercely intelligent, and can be seen leading their brethren into battle. Like the
Dragon Ogres, they took carry a disdain of the lesser races yet will work with them when they
must. Finally they would rather avoid daemonic beings if they can, not willing to risk the remainder
of their souls, and will never enter a pact with one of them.
Of all the creatures of this world, they are the eldest, predating even the mighty Dragons. The first of
their kind to draw breath was Krakanrok the Black, who arose from a primordial swamp over a
thousand years before the Old Ones found this sphere. I have not had the honour of meeting him, but
Im reliably told that each of his foreclaws is as large as a warhorse and when he takes a full breath, all
within a hundred paces fall unconscious due to the lack of air, as it is all sucked into his titanic lungs.
There has never been a new Shartak born since the dawn on which they successfully bargained for
their immortality with the Gods. The very lighting that fuels their bodies has rendered them infertile.
Knowing my Lord as much as any mortal can, I suspect he deemed it a grand jest, forcing them to
trade one sort of longevity for another, but I digress. What is important to know is that they are
ancient beyond Human reckoning and their wisdom is vast. Even as they dream down the long ages,
their spirits wander learning much of the world. When they finally rise at the thunders call, they are
often amazingly well informed of current events before being told. My fourth tutor, a being I honour
before all others save one, was a Shaggoth named Tirsoknaia. He told me that his people hold their
dreams to be their reality and regard the brief years they are forced to stay awake as their dreams.
They are capable of committing horrifying deeds and legendary feats without hesitation as they go
about our world, for the rest of us are deemed to be mere figments of their imagination. Dr. Athren
Abolas, Facilitator of Change
Another age turns and once more, the world is hung in the balance. Once again, my brethren must
fight and die for a cause that means little to us. Long ago we made our decision and there is no
changing it. But the long years have worn me, as the tide shatters the shore, and sometimes I grow
weary of the endless battle. What is more, I now wonder if it truly was our decision. Ive seen enough to
know how manipulative the Architect of Fate can be. I suppose it matters not. In truth, the only time I
truly feel alive is when I face a foe capable of killing me. Enrinsorga, Dragon Ogre Shaggoth
Mobility: 6
Preferred Range: ????
The Multilath Vortex Beast is a terrifying

monster of pure mutation; an abomination of
nature if there ever was one. The shape of the
beast type is nearly indeterminable, but some
commonalities have emerged. Most often these
creatures have are described with a large
gaping maw full of rows upon rows of teeth,
along with numerous flailing tentacles.
However its greatest, most potent ability is

anchored in its nature. Within this creature is a
seething ball of pure chaos energy that warps
and twists the flesh around it. This energy can be
directed inward, to heal the Vortex Beasts of wounds. Yet most horrifically it can be directed
outward, to change all that it touches.
Heroes have been felled after being strangled and impaled by their own spines emerging from
their backs, while others have melted into nothing. Others have been transformed into a pile of
fish or giant crystal statues. Still the worst occurs when the vortex pulses, changing those it
touches into Chaos Spawn.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: For personal offense the Vortex Beast has numerous flailing tentacles and a maw that
can quickly grind bones and metal to nothing. Its most horrific ability is it Aura of Change,
which has a range of 100 meters. Fortunately just as Chaos itself is random so too is the effect of
this aura, which can include 6 applications, most of which tied to affecting a single unit (a couple
dozen men):
1. It can mutate enemies with terrible disfigurements, eliminating some while making others
terrible to behold.
2. An assault on the mind that kills some, and makes others extremely stupid
3. Gift of mutations which kills some, makes others weaker in a given area, and makes other
stronger in yet another given area (so a normal archer might actually become superhumanly
accurate or much slower)
4. Tide of Transformation: The most powerful aspect of this creature, it creates a tide of random
transformations that keep spreading backwards. Those that dont resist completely die from
turning into a crystal statue or something. This tide only ends when there is nothing within 20
meters of the last victim, it peppers out randomly, or enough individuals resist it simultaneously.
5. Maelstrom of Change: Creates a small maelstrom, about 3m diameter, that can then extend
outward up to 20 meters (with a small chance of failure). All within must struggle to resist one
means or else get eradicated by chaotic change.
6. Spawnchange: All those that fail to resist get turned into a Chaos spawn, meaning dozens of
Chaos Spawn might suddenly get formed at once!
Defensive: Though a large target, it is rather durable to wounds and has scaly skin as powerful as
plate. To make matters worse the skin of the multilath is forever being healed and remolded,
sucked in and poured back out by the vortex. Essentially it will usually take lot of very strong blows
at once to destroy this creature.
Fortunately for enemies these creatures are very rare and need to be magically bound first to be
brought into battle.
Mobility: 6

The Slaughterbrute is a terrible creation, a beast of pure aggression and violence. So aggressive in
fact that it cannot normally be controlled and must be bound. Those few Chaos Champions
daring enough bind it through long rituals and sacrifice, finally gaining control of this creature.
While some prefer to keep the Slaughterbeast on a tightrope, using it like a marionette, most who
catch such a beast control it through force of will . In that case the Slaughterbrute fights with the
skill of a warrior born rather than a massive beast.
So powerful is this creature that every sweep of the arm can knock down a half-dozen men,
every bite ripping someone else in half. Yet unlike other beasts in this section it does not simply
tanks blows, but rather feints and parries them. Still perhaps the most intimidating aspect of
this creature is the fact that when it kills dark laughter can be heard emanating from it, laughter
that its bestial jaws cannot normally make.
The abomination thundered through the vaulted throne room, mindlessly crushing, smashing and
killing anything in its path. Daemonettes became twisted mounds of spiked scrap through which the
ichor leaked into the stinking waters of the palace. Monsters who, like the slaughterbrute, had suffered
in Agrammons royal menagerie, became showers of gore and ragged limbs that rained in the
abominations bloody wake.
Distracted by Archaon, the daemon lord was no longer protected by its flesh-shearing maelstrom. As
soon as the abomination saw the daemon, it thundered towards it, stamping a fleeing long-snout into
the shallows and beating a winged nightmare out of its path and into the spiked wall with bone-
shattering force. Perhaps it was Agrammons size or a daemonic threat the serpentine thing so
obviously posed. Perhaps the abomination remembered and knew its captor when it saw it. As the
abominate monster charged, Agrammons coils tightened about the slaughterbrute, bleeding a
powerful mixture of potions and poisons from it into the monsters flesh. Agrammon brought up a
colossal claw to back slice the creature to ribbons, but Archaon knew that such defences would not be
enough. Clambering over the clamminess of sickly-sweet flesh, Archaon almost became trapped in the
moving coils of the creature.
Flashing a glance at the oncoming slaughterbrute, Archaon brought his sickle sword down on the tail.
Again. Again. The swords serrated edge sheared flesh from the thrashing horror but wasnt heavy
enough to cleave through bone. He roared, cutting at the daemon. Finally, the bone shattered under
the frenzied onslaught, caught between one of the swords many barbs and the stone of the throne
dais. Seconds later the thick coils slithering tighter about them suddenly unravelled. The bloody stump
that Archaon had left was whipped away, trailing black gore. As the slaughterbrute and the daemon
Agrammon collided, Archaon grabbed Giselle and ran for the wall.
The abominate beast knocked Agrammon from its throne. As the daemons snake-like body wrapped
itself around the monstrous force of the slaughterbrute, the pair of them smashed through the
chamber. The creature alternated between the unrelenting force of its fist and the gouging slash of its
thick claws. It savaged Agrammon with its dagger-toothed maw and gored it with its monstrous horns.
Purple lightning enveloped them both, streaming from the spindly claws of the daemon, setting the
slaughterbrute alight.-Archaon: Lord of Chaos. Example of uncontrolled Slaughterbrute
The Greatest weakness of this creature is the fact that if its puppeteer is killed it reverts to its
bestial stake. In this case it attacks everything around it indiscriminately, servant of Chaos or not,
until it is either slain or kills everything around it.
===Loadout===
Offensive: A slaughterbrute is strong enough to rip off limbs of a giant, so one can imagine what it
would to a human. It has multiple claws on it, powerful limbs, and a jaw that can easily bite a man in
half.
Defensive: When a Chaos Lord possesses it this creature is capable of feinting and parrying and
dodging. If not its still a tough, durable target with scale as hard as plate armor.
Some Chaos Sorcerers that makes the attempt to bind this creature end up failing and dying
horribly.
Mobility: 6
In legends it is said that long ago there was a

shamanistic tribe known as the Khazags who were so
insular and isolated that, for many millennia, they
avoided the sight of the Dark Gods. Yet alas such a
thing could not be done forever, and eventually these
gods shifted their sight towards this wayward group,
perplexed that they existed outside their influence.
Sensing that they could add a new, if minor, player
towards their game they set about corrupting this
clan, using the greed and rage of the chieftains son to
lead the tribe to corruption. As a final coup de grace
these Chaos corrupted men forcibly bound and
corrupted the great mammoth god, Ankor, that had
been previously been the subject of the tribes worship.
With the power of the Mammoth God aiding them, the Khazrags quickly subjugated more
mammoths and dedicated themselves solely to eternal war. This once simple hunting tribe rose to
dominate their area of the steppes for millennia, smashing aside other Kurgan tribes and launching
devastating raids against the Southlands.
Mammoths in Warhammer Fantasy are much larger than real world mammoths, being capable of
knocking down entire forests in their march (tree by tree) and smashing through small
stone walls. Indeed in the Great War of Chaos they were the ones who smashed through the gates
of Praag, resulting in a horrific massacre of the city. They arent as big as LOTR Oliphants but they
are still 3-4 times a real world Elephants height (around 30 feet high, according to the novel Blood
for the Blood God), able to carry a whopping 20 men on their back!
Not all of the Chaos tribes have succeeded in training the mammoths but those who have tend to
dominate the plains as the massive beasts smash aside those that come to fight them in melee.
Meanwhile from a battle box on their box gleeful marauders rain down projectiles on their foes, or
else conduct vile sacrifices from an on-board Chaos War Shrine.
With a shout, Maloric ordered the knights of Bastonne forwards, spearing towards the heart of the
melee. More Norse were appearing out of the snowstorm, and Calard knew that they were completely
surrounded. And still worse was to befall the Bretonnians, for the Norscan chieftain had one final
surprise.
The ground began to shudder and reverberate as if shook by an earthquake and monstrous
trumpeting lifted above the roar of the wind, the same sounds that Calard had heard before battle had
commenced. It was akin to the blare of massive horns, but Calard could not begin to fathom the size of
the instruments needed to create such a din.
He didn't have to wait long to discover what it was that made the sounds, and what he saw made his
blood run cold.
From out of the blizzard's whitewash came three massive shapes, pounding forwards through the
snow and ice, the ground reverberating with every titanic footfall of the monsters.
They were giant, shaggy-hided beasts, each as tall as a castle wall. They had huge trunks of muscle
extending from their wide heads, and one of them raised this prehensile limb to the heavens and again
the terrifying trumpeting sound echoed across the battlefield. The immense beasts were quadrupeds,
with large flapping, dark furred ears and beady eyes filled with burning rage, and each had four
immense tusks that curved down to the ground.
Atop the backs of these monsters were strapped immense howdahs of timber, their sides draped with
furs and leathers and dotted with shields, and within these structures were dozens of warriors.
The Norscans battling the Bretonnians hurled themselves aside, though many of them were too slow or
too far lost in their own battle frenzy. The beasts thundered forwards, smashing into Norscan and
knight alike with titanic force, sending men and horses flying through the air with each great sweep of
their heads. Tusks skewered destriers and riders alike, blood spraying in all directions, and massive
trunks wrapped themselves around men, crushing ribs and limbs before hurling them into the blizzard,
arms and legs flailing. Still others were crushed into nothingness, trampled beneath immense
stamping hooves that flattened them completely - armour, bone and all.
Hundreds of knights were slaughtered as the trio of behemoths smashed through the knights with the
elemental force of a thunderbolt, and many more were killed by the javelins and axes hurled by the
Norscans riding within the howdah towers. Lances and swords dug into the legs of the shaggy-furred
beasts but it was like striking rock, and weapons were jarred from numbed hands. These attacks were
little more than pinpricks to the mighty beasts, who seemed not to feel any pain.
The army of Lyonesse, already struggling to survive being engaged on three sides by the brutal
Norscan warriors was utterly shattered by the appearance of these three monstrous beasts. Merely the
stink of them, thick and unpleasant, was enough to drive horses mad with terror, and panic spread
across the entire battle line. The heart of the Bretonnian army was smashed apart, the immense
mammoths thundering through the ranks of knights with impunity, killing everything that came near
them. Hundreds of noble knights of Bretonnia were left as unrecognisable smears of blood trampled
into the ground, and countless more were killed as they were smashed through the air by swinging
tusks, or hacked apart by the bloodthirsty warriors who descended on the panicked knights in a fury,
axes smashing men from saddles and cleaving the legs from beneath proud destriers driven mad with
fear. -Knight of the Realm
===Loadout===
Offensive: A mammoth is a truly gigantic

creature, and for the most part its beyond the
control of the owner when in combat. After
charging in it will squash, trample, stomp, eat,
crush (with trunk) and pick up and hurl enemies
at other enemies at random. If its fighting a
massive creature it will mostly rely on goring
them with tusks or butting them with its head.
Those mammoths carrying massive battle

platforms may have up to 20 marauders in
them, who attack with throwing axes, javelins
and potentially bows. Rarely, a Chaos Sorceror
or Lord may take up residence in these platforms
and attack from there.
Defensive: Chaos War Mammoths are very durable, requiring
great numbers of minor wounds to even slow them down.
Many are equipped in steel for added protection. Weak spots are
generally going to be their large eyes, underbelly and trunk
A War mammoth, if carrying a shrine, may attack faster

(Khorne), have some plague flies/minor magical defense from
Nurgle/Tzeentch, or be nearly completely fearless in
battle(Slaanesh). Having a Chaos Shrine on its back confers all the
advantages that a regular Chaos Shrine would achieve.
However these creatures suffer from a critical weakness; if greatly
injured mammoths panic and run amok, inflicting tremendous
causalities on anything in their path (including men of Chaos)
indiscriminately.
Mobility: 6
Unlike mortal servants of Chaos, the

Chaos Dwarves dont attempt deals with
greater daemons or the Dark Gods. The
only being they bow their knee to is
Hashtut. Instead of deals or worse
obedience to these fickle entities the
Chaos Dwarves pursue another option;
slavery.
The Kdaai is one result of such attempts to enslave a daemon. Originally conceived as a war
weapon the Chaos Dwarves succeeded all too well with the Kdaai . These creatures are an unholy
emergence of elementals that was birthed from the deep earth and the boiling blood of slave
sacrifices. They are elemental beings of destruction, mindless to the point where sorcerers are the
only ones to wield even tentative control over the entity. Even then these non-sentient monsters
still kill what is in their path, enemy or ally.
They are so self-destructive that they will quickly burn out on the battlefield. For that reason they
are put in hibernation mode and laid on stone until the most important battles . As they are
exceedingly difficult and costly to make, this further limits their number.
There appears to be multiple types of Kdaai. The Smaller

version, the Kdaai fireborn, serve as shock troops, sent
to clash into enemy lines and break them. As they are
very durable and their bodies emanate fire, this isnt too
hard to do. The second main version, the Destroyer, is a
towering colossus that can crush battlelines beneath them.
The Kdaai is a terror to those who must face them.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: As their bodies are on fire, and Hashtuts

unholy fire at that, both the destroyer and fireborn mainly
utilize that as their weapon along with burning claws
and a mace that can also be covered in fire. The
Destroyer can be so large that it can crush troops under it,
and a very select few are large enough to crush monsters!
Some Chaos Dawi engineer might have it be covered in

gore blades or give it razor horns. Those with wings
have the ability to breathe fire.
Defensive: Both variants are exceptionally durable and

near immune to fire attacks. However they are
incredibly short lived and burn so fast they may end up literally burning themselves out. As part
daemons, they do have a weakness to the Light that their kind all shares. The Destroyer is a massive
target, easier to hit but innately more durable too.
A few Destroyers can fly, allowing them to engage airborne threats.

Mobility: 6
Just as the Beastmen were warped together men and

beasts to create their present form, so too is the
Chimera a blasphemous mixing of multiple
creatures. For thousands of years these creatures
were almost never seen, a rarity among the Chaos
Wastes. Some speculate this is because they are
creatures that roam the ethereal realm of chaos, or
are beings sent as emissaries to Chaos themselves.
Whatever the reason, it often took lifetimes for men
to find them, and even those that do may not always survive the encounter. Only in the End Times,
with the power of Chaos rising above all others, have these creatures emerged in uncommon
numbers.
They are typically fifteen feet long with a few rare individuals having more than three heads.
Warriors of Caledor! he cried, bracing to meet the challenge. Fear no darkness! Remember your
oaths!
The knights responded first. They kicked their rebellious steeds up the slope, raising their shields and
holding their swords point-forward. The ragged line of cavalry surged forward, picking up momentum
just as the chimera dropped out of the air and crashed down among them.
Rathien rode with them, gritting his teeth, driving his terrified horse into close range and aiming his
sword for the monsters shaggy neck. A shadow passed across him as the wings thrust down again,
wafting a cloud of nauseating filth over him, but he held his course, straight into the maw of the
approaching creature of Chaos.
In front of him, a rider was smashed aside by a heavy swipe from the creatures barbed foreleg.
Another was lashed from the saddle by the snaking tail. One of the three heads swung round, and huge
jaws clamped over the helmet of a third rider, muffling his screams as the teeth tore through the plate
and into the flesh beneath.
Asuryan! roared Rathien, angling the blade to strike just below the chimeras central head.
He never even saw the claw come round. It whipped across from the left, fast as a crossbow bolt,
catching him full on the left shoulder.
Rathien was thrown from the saddle. He flew several feet through the air before cracking heavily into
a wall of rock. His head snapped back against it, and his sword dropped from his hands.
For a moment, everything was lost in a whirl of disorientation. Through blurred vision, he saw the
chimera stamp down on his stricken horse, crushing the beasts ribcage with almost unconscious
disdain before wheeling round to take on the press of warriors rushing into the assault.
It prowled on four legs like a colossal panther, though it was capable of rearing up and slashing out
viciously with its forelegs. When it did this, the mighty wings flared above it, fanning the stink of death
and causing the soldiers to gag and choke. The chimera shook off every attempt to land a blow,
crushing any move to get close enough in to bring blades to bear. A few arrows bounced from its iron-
hard hide, launched from further down the trail by rows of kneeling archers. The missiles did no
damage at all, and with every kick or lash of its massive limbs another one of Rathiens troops died.
Rathien staggered back to his feet, shaking his head to clear it, watching the butchery unfold with
growing horror. He saw the monster pull apart a rider with a shake of one set of jaws even while its
foreclaws ripped open the chest of another. Its third head attacked, jawline splayed wide, and a
column of white-hot flame jetted out, engulfing the front rank of footsoldiers. The victims fell back
screaming, tearing at their eyes and rolling on the ground to try to douse the agonising flames that
ran over them like burning oil.
Despite it all, the Caledorians kept on coming. The knights, most of whom had been thrown from
their horses, charged at the beast on foot, trying to find some way to stab at its flanks with their
longswords. The footsoldiers did likewise, though their light armour made them easy pickings. Even
some of the archers closed in, edging up the track and trying to give their arrows a better chance of
punching through the beasts thick hide.
It would make no difference. As clearly as blood on snow, Rathien saw that the attacks were doomed.
The chimera was dragging them down in droves. Already, the ground beneath its feet was slick with
gore and the monsters heavy claws trampled the bodies of the slain into the gravel of the track.
They were all going to die.- Dragonmage. This beast was eventually killed by a massive amount of
fire levelled against it.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: A chimera is a beast with 2 claws, three jaws, a terrible tail, and its melee attacks
poisoned. One of the heads, the one that resembles a dragon, can breathe fire on the enemy. All
jaws have rending fangs and terrible whip-tongues to grab the enemy from afar. Finally its tail can
resemble either a whip lash, or have a mouth of its own to eat people with.
Defense: Little other than it can fly and its skin is supposedly as hard as iron. Some variants
have low-grade regeneration.
Mobility: 8 (Toad Dragon: 6)
Training/Experience: 10 (older than the Old Ones)
Max Range: Several dozen yards
Preferred Range: Ranged
All of the two headed Dragons of Chaos are the descendants of Galrauch, though not every Dragon
that has turned to Chaos is of his line. The rewards of Chaos are many, why should not Dragons be
tempted as surely as Men? Such drakes as turn to the darkness are wicked and clever beasts that
delight in the pains of others. I have, on occasion, allied myself with their kind, but Ive never trusted
any of them as all others are lesser and expendable in their eyes. A view, I must admit, I admire. Dr.
Athren Abolas, Facilitator of Change
Long ago when Chaos first emerged on the planet the dragons were among the many races that
stepped forward to oppose them. Most were cut down, however a few were given far more
hideous fates, courtesy of Tzeentch. He would either have his forces possess the dragons with
daemons, thus waging war over the body, or mutate them until they became insane.
The Chaos Dragon is wicked and fickle, every bit as malevolent as their Tzeentchi benefactors. Yet
as typical of the ways of Tzeentch, neither is exactly the same, and possesses various different
mutations like translucent organs or mouths coming out of various parts of the body. There is a
distinction between regular Chaos Dragons and Emperor Class sized- the latter is bigger and far
rarer. Galgruach was 30 feet tall
while Skyranjar- the chaos
dragon Gotrek and Felix
fought- was almost 100 feet!
Regular chaos dragons would
still be far taller than a man.
TOAD DRAGON
Toad Dragons are not strictly

Chaos creatures, but have been
seen utilized in Nurglite armies.
Unlike other dragons these are
wingless and thus unable to
fly, and are almost mindless,
in contrast to the full
sentience of the Chaos
Dragon. However they are
extremely durable in the
manner of the Nurglites it is
seen serving.
Archaon turned the Eye on the monstrosity they had cornered. A primeval horror of scale and warty
skin gnarled enough to turn aside a blade it was some aberration of the Wastes: a toad-like
dragon. Its webbed feet splashed about in the shallows of the meltwater stream, and it unleashed
thunderous croaks from its huge rubbery maw as Agrammons bestial trappers thrust their tridents at
it and slashed their whips of sinew in the shallows. As one of the long-snouts splashed through the
black waters at the toad dragon, forcing it back, the creature ballooned its bulbous throat and reared
up. Opening its great maw the thing regurgitated its last meal upon the beastfiend. The vomit was a
deluge of bloody bile and steaming bones. The trapper trumpeted a ghastly shriek from its long snout
as the acidic contents of the toad dragons stomach drenched it. As flesh began to dribble from its
bones, the Slaaneshi trapper stumbled towards its compatriot beasts but the long-snouts backed away.
Within moments the beastfiend had become a steaming mound of melted flesh, hissing and dissolving
on the shoreline of the stream. The toad dragon hopped forward, croaking its monstrous desire to be
left alone. The Slaaneshi beastfiends trumpeted their own fears as they skipped back through the
waters on the tips of their hooves.
()
The toad dragon would not submit, however. As it thunder-croaked its amphibious fury, the thing
exuded a slimy pus from its warty skin that allowed it to squirm and slide out from under the weighted
net. As it bounded forward, the monsters grapnel-like tongue shot out from its gaping maw. The sharp
tongue speared its way through the back of a fleeing beastfiend and out through its chest. There the
fleshy grapnel opened and the tongue retracted like a whip, dragging the unfortunate creature back
into the rubbery mouth. A second and third half-breed died similarly, trumpeting their horror from
their tapering snouts as they were dragged to an acidic doom.-Toad Dragon. Archaon: Lord of Chaos
WARPFIRE DRAGON
The fell beasts named by scholars as Warpfire

Dragons are hateful and ruinous creatures, albeit
thankfully a rare sight in the Old World. Their long,
charred-black bodies constantly twitch and shudder
as if tormented by unseen blades, and clusters of
strange crystals mar their scaled hides. The very air
about them throbs with tainted power, and their
breath is like no other dragons; a coruscating blast of
scintillating red-black lightning that can scorch even
ethereal spirits and other creatures of magic.
The destructive power and twisted form of a

Warpfire Dragon is fueled and maintained by
devouring pure warpstone. Only the mighty
constitution of a dragon could withstand the effects of
so much concentrated power without it being torn to
pieces, although the violent death of such a creature often leads to a spectacular and explosive end.
The scarcity of warpstone often brings a Warpfire Dragon into conflict with the Skaven, and it is
with the promise of this immensely powerful material that the most arrogant (or insane) of wizards
will seek to strike a bargain with the creature; although it is said that even the legendary Binding
Scrolls of Kadon are not enough to fully control such a malign and wicked beast.
When the Old Ones first crafted their Gates from the substance of stars, I was there to assist their
labour. Down the long ages I have come, watching the rise and fall of you lesser races and your
civilizations. Ive laid waste to knights and cities, burned fields and routed armies in my years. I could
tell you much of the world that you have forgotten and more that you never knew, but I think not. You
and yours are suited for nothing more than to provide me with amusement and the occasional
graceful bauble for my lair. I see little else worthwhile about you. Brinrairdih oft-called The Storm
that Roars, Ancient Wyrm
In battle Warpfire dragons have an aura so chaotic and destructive that those in its immediate
contact must struggle to resist the changing pull of Chaos.
===LOADOUT===
Offensive: Chaos Dragons have two different form of breathe attacks. The first head emits
corrosive gas while the second exhales the dark flame of Chaos. Then of course it also has teeth and
claws. The most powerful might breathe the pure stuff of change itself.
Their mirth was lost in the purple firestorm that enveloped the stone stairwell as the dragon slipped
its long neck and open, elongated jaws down through the cruel druchii architecture and blasted them
to fiery oblivion. Some monstrous, primordial urge to serve its Dark Master drove it on. It wanted
forms to change and the souls that fled such
abomination. It wanted Archaon. The blazing light
of his significance drove the monster mad, flashing
briefly and temptingly before becoming lost once
more in the miasma of dark souls that lit up the
floating fortress.
After the heat washed away and Archaon heard

Flamefang slither monstrously away to create
havoc towards the stern, Archaon turned to see
what remained of the beastmen. Instead of a huddle
of cremated beastmen, the Chaos warrior found
that the dragons breath had actually turned the
brutes into small, fleshy mounds that were erupting
in change. Like anemones turning themselves inside
out, the creatures had been transformed into
blossoming spawn by the form-altering power of
the Tzeentchian monsters fire. Instead of a fiery
death, Flamefang visited upon its victims the
blessings of its infernal master Lord Tzeentch. Archaon: Everchosen
The Toad Dragons breathe is utterly toxic and capable of melting flesh off bones and filling
lungs with pus. It also uses its poisonous froglike tongue and claws.
Warpfire Dragons shoot out pure magic and some of them are powerful wizards (level 4) wizards
in their own right. When they are killed they emit a destructive burst of energy that can be felt up
to fifty meters out.
Defensive: Both are very durable and covered in thick, plate like scales. Both are monstrously large
(though Toad Dragon is larger) to require sustained artillery fire or magic to reliably kill.
Warpfire dragons have destructive auras around them that makes it so the enemy must struggle to
resist forcible mutation.
The Chaos Dragon can fly, the

Toad Dragon cannot. Both variants
can be considered incredibly rare ,
with the highest number of Chaos
Dragons yet seen on one
battlefield being three. With the
End Times, this undoubtedly
has changed as so many wake
from slumber to wreck the
world once more.
The observers had one and all

heard the legends of noble knights
riding forth to slay marauding
drakes, rescuing fair damsels and
golden treasures from the caves of
such scaly monsters. Such stories
were common in the lore and
legend of Bretonnia, and well
known to even the poorest of its
peasants. But none had ever seen
the creatures spoken of in these
tales, perhaps taking comfort in
believing such beasts to be a part of
the history of their land rather than
something that might return in
their own time. As terror overcame
the awe that had gripped the hearts of the soldiers, the men-at-arms scrambled over one another in
their haste to be quit of the battlements, to abandon the fortress to the legendary horror that had
fallen upon it from the grim night sky.
Malok paid the fleeing soldiers little notice, intent upon pulverising the stone structure beneath him.
The dragons impact had shaken the very foundations of the keep, though the tough body of the wyrm
had felt little of his violent collision with the unyielding fortification. Now he brought his heavy clawed
legs smashing again and again into the cracked rubble that roofed the structure, causing the already
weakened stonework to shudder and groan. Malok could feel the castle shifting beneath him as rooms
and corridors collapsed below, shifting tons of stone to crush the little vermin within.
The dragon reared his head back, roaring into the night, a sound like the scream of hot steel thrust
into icy snow magnified to such a degree that the eardrums of the human witnesses threatened to
burst under such duress. Gouts of flame, like the expulsions of a blast furnace, flashed from Maloks
jaws, staining the night sky a hellish hue. The dragon maintained his violent, boastful display of wrath
and retribution for a lingering moment, letting his display of power build until he could feel the fiery
heat swelling within him. Then the dragon turned his head downward, expelling a long stream of
golden flame into the structure beneath his feet.
Wooden support beams exploded as the dragonfire consumed them, turning oak and pine into ash and
steam. The already weakened pile caved in beneath the reptile as the supports were destroyed. Three
floors of castle crumpled, crushing downward, pushing outward against the walls. Malok beat his
wings, lifting himself free as the castle disintegrated into a pile of rock and debris, smoke and dust
billowing about him as the mighty wings caused the air to swirl and writhe.
The hovering dragon glared down at his handiwork, reptilian eyes narrowing into dagger-like slits as
he contemplated the destruction. Deciding it was not enough, Malok drew in another breath, expelling
a second stream of flame into the rubble, sending tons of stone exploding into the air as the fiery
column struck.
The dragon snarled down at the rubble, a deep and satisfied hiss, then wheeled away, now intent on
attending to all the tiny little men who had been running away from the curtain wall and guard
towers. After all, any one of them might be the vermin who had driven the dragon to come here. And
that was a summons Malok was not going to let pass unanswered.- Brunner the Bounty Hunter
Mobility: 6
Max Range: 1 kilometer
Effective Range : 480 meters
In the shadow of the besieged Marcher

Fortress, I saw the BloodGod's host in all its
terrible glory. Yet it was the cannons upon
the ridgeline that captured my attention.
Lined wheel to wheel, they belched fire and
gore at the lithe Daemons who sallied in the
fortress' defense. I was certain no host,
immortal or otherwise, could long endure
such a fusillade. Moment later, I was proved
correct as the defenders withdrew, leaving
the charred remains of their fellows to the
enemys scant mercies. - Daemon Codex 8e,
pg 32
The Skull Cannon is rare and legendary

type of chariot-canon that was supposedly forged by Khornes own hands on his mighty anvil.
These daemon-cannons, unholy mix between machine and thee aethyr, are fully sentient and are
as full of bloodlust as any minion of Khorne. So willful and violent is it that these things are
extremely difficult to control even by someone used to controlling a Juggernaut. The two
Bloodletters that accompany it mostly just hoot and holler and jeer, for they have no ability to
control that which they ride.
In battle the Skull Cannon charges uncontrollably toward enemy lines, eager for blood. As it moves
it fires giant brazen skulls that slam into enemy lines with the force of a cannonball,
occasionally splintering apart in a shower of shrapnel. Not once does the cannon stop for unlike
other cannons it does not want nor will it ever allow itself to be tied up in the rear. This
creature desires the front-lines and the carnage that follows.
When it finally reaches the enemy it crashes into his lines with several tons of unknown metal and
rollers. Those that arent crushed underneath are hacked by the Bloodltters riding on top or else
eaten by the great maw of the beast. It will then gruesomely eject all but the skulls from its rear end.
These skulls are then filled with the sheer hatred and bloodlust reminiscent of Khorne.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Skull Cannons fire giant flaming brazen skulls that for the most part break into
fragments upon impact. Should the skull survive, it will hurl insults at those in its immediate
vicinity until its crushed. However those that crush it are said to be cursed with nightmares
for the rest of time.
In close quarters the cannon uses its maw, weight, and scythes attached to its wheels to attack. The
two Bloodletters riding on top utilize hellblades.
Defense: Being made mostly of brass it is a rather durable machine, capable of sustaining many
wounds before dying.
Mobility: 7
Max & Effective Range: 300m
When a Daemons physical body is slain, he can surrender his true name to the Forge of Souls. The
dark bargain thus sealed, the Daemons crippled essence is bound to a mighty Warpmetal hulk.
Thus is he reborn as a Soul Grinder. This is considered a rather desperate bargain made by only
desperate daemons, for though the Soul Grinder grants him great power he is beholden to pay the
debt back through souls. Should he fail, and most do, he will lose his identity and be eternally
damned- the same fate he would inflict upon mortals.
No two Soul Grinders are exactly the same, but all are bizarre to look upon. The transformation has
a tendency to mimic the Daemons inner desires and then distort them just enough so that even it
finds the results loathsome. Yet the change also grants might be far beyond that which a Daemon
normally enjoys.
A Soul Grinders clanking tread shakes the ground with every step, and it is devilishly fast for a
creature its size, able to scuttle swift as a horses gallop, or even faster should the scent of
battle touch its nostrils. Piston-driven legs thud home with sickening force, crushing to bloody
paste those beneath. Formidable though a Soul Grinders brute strength is, he does not need to rely
on it alone to slaughter his foes, for the transformation grants weapons to match the newfound
stature. These can range from cannons to mini flamethrowers and more.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: A Soul Grinder will usually have a massive sword and a terrible iron claw which is used
to clamp down on enemies to hold them in place or crush them. However it might also have one of
the following:
--Harvester Cannon: Essentially this fires grapeshot at close quarters, functioning somewhat like a
large shotgun.
--Baleful Torrent: Essentially a giant flamethrower arm.
--Daemonclaw Upgrade: Makes his iron claw so powerful it could rip limbs off giants with ease.
--Phlegm Bombardment: Essentially this functions like a catapult, only with presumably
infectious phlegm!
A gigantic claw slammed into the Counts back, its piston-driven strength flinging the vampire across
the square. Flagstones cracked under giant metal legs as Stemcutter stormed sideways through the
fray, pincers snipping wildly. A knot of injured spearmen charged towards it, cries to Sigmars glory on
their lips, but Stemcutter hoiked a great ball of phlegm and spat it right at them. The repulsive fluids
splashed across the state troops, quickly dissolving their flesh until all that was left was a noisome pile
of sludge and discoloured cloth.-Glottkin
--Warp Gaze: With its eyes it collects energy into a eyebeam and spears a target with dark energy.
Should any of these attacks mess up, as occasionally happens, the Soul Grinder takes the hit as it
explodes in his face.
Defense: Its a massive target clad in plate-equivalent armor. Very durable to harm, and normally
artillery weapons would be required to kill it.
Subject to Marks of Chaos.
With their obsession of control and destruction, the Chaos Dwarves are known for some extremely
exotic and potent artillery. From rockets to a giant colossus, the Chaos Dwarves are always
looking to expand their unholy technology.
In order to better transport these weapons, they have developed a means in which they can be
carried on steam carriages pulled by the Iron Daemon (see below) allowing for faster
movement. Though bad terrain will hurt this transports capabilities, it allows Chaos Dwarf
Artillery to keep up with the main army without the C. Dawi physically having to lug it around.
Chaos Dwarves are exceedingly good and creative at repairing craft, and machinery disabled for
one battle can easily be repaired by the next unless totally devastated or captured.
Priests robed in scale coats and wearing daemon-faced iron masks walked amongst the engines,
chanting liturgies to the dark god, Hashut. They sprinkled blood onto the swelling barrels of the
cannons and dropped burning entrails into their muzzles. With fingers coated in crimson, they
scrawled wicked runes onto the rocket batteries and consecrated massive earthshaker shells to their
master.
As the rituals were completed, the daemon engines began to wake. Where once there had been
inert metal, now unnatural flesh began to writhe and turn, sprouting faces and fangs, claws and
tendrils. Bound within the rune-scratched iron of their machines, the daemons possessing the
engines began to buck and pull at their chains, and unholy screeches and roars filled the air. Crew
dwarfs with smouldering brands prodded their charges into position, while burning skulls were
laden into their furnace hearts, the heat shimmer boiling up the valley, melting the snow beneath the
engines.
Blood poured forth from horrid maws, while oil dripped from cogs and windlasses. Flaming
hammers scalded runes of wrath onto the bound creatures, infuriating them further, while rockets
were loaded onto the launch racks and shells fed into the toothy muzzles of the squat earthshakers.-
Grudgebeearer
Although a touch of the dark powers of Chaos enters into all the works of the Chaos Dwarfs, some
war machines have hellish, devouring entities and daemons of fury and destruction bound to
their every frame and bolt, creating a truly possessed machine even more blood-thirsty than its
creators and difficult to destroy. The most extreme examples of these are devices such as the
infamous Hellcannon, fueled by flesh and souls and spewing destructive blasts of arcane
energy, they are unique entities whose treacherous power can prove almost as dangerous to
their masters as the enemy. There are other lesser, infernal devices and examples of daemonic
power augmenting more conventional war machine designs and engines.
In short this makes the Chaos Dwarf vehicles really powerful, with all their attacks being magical,
but even more difficult to handle than normal. They also have some truly catastrophic scenarios
that occur in the event that they misfire, which usually results in the death of its handlers and
sometimes all units nearby. This can be particularly problematic, as Chaos Dwarf artillery is so
costly as to be nearly impossible to practically replace, and in the novel Knight of the Realm it is
described how one (larger than normal) hellcannon took 50 years and the sacrifice of
thousands of slaves to build, followed by 50 days of extremely dangerous rituals to properly
bind a daemon to .
All WF artillery is rare, but the Chaos Dwarf artillery especially so, and heavily priced for that
reason. The majority of them cannot attack aircraft, and those that can are often inaccurate.
Finally they are noted as firing at a rather slow rate, as in the Tamurkhan campaign the Imperials
could get off many more shots before they finished reloading.
*Note Credit for most of this Chaos Dwarf section goes to Mathias Ellesion, a writer of a fan-dex.
However no aspect of the fandex was included that I could not verify in another, canon source as a
unit.
Mobility: 5.5 (may briefly boost speed)
Max Range: Over a Kilometer

Effective Range: 200 meter.
Preferred Range: Varies
The Chaos Dwarves have long

experimented with Siege
Engine technology, using it to
haul around supplies and aid
in labor. From lugging
cannons across the planes of
Azhar to hauling back supplies
from mines, there are a few
places where it was deemed
impractical to have slaves do
the heavy lifting. Being Chaos
Dwarf technology, they are
rumored to be powered and
infused with daemonic power,
and fed a diet of slaves.
One of the latest designs to

see widespread service within
the Chaos Dwarf empire is the
Iron Daemon; a compact,
armored steam-driven
traction engine. The steam
boilers that provide these machines with motive power, to haul heavy armaments and munitions to
the battlefield are cunningly designed so that they can also be used to work pressure-fed weapons
such as cannonades and wall-breakers. This means that every Iron Daemon is also a powerful war
machine in its own right a fully mobile artillery piece or murderous killing engine able to
smash through fortifications and hack down ranks of living soldiers with equal ease.
Its a powerful hauler, and most obstacles in the way are simply run-over without stopping. It can
carry many carriages of supplies and other artillery placements at once, such is its power. The
Carriage can be made to go much faster over brief bursts of speed. However as the Tamurkhan
campaign proved just as with the Germans in Russia terrible, muddy terrain can greatly slow this
train.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: At long range the Iron Daemon carries a pair of short-ranged, attached cannonades with
a range of a 100 meters. This cannonade fires red-hot l shrapnel and curse-laden bullets, though
given its fixed position it cannot be turned without turning the entire vehicle. While rarely it
misfires, this is probably one of the more reliable C. Dawi weapons.
There is also a variant of the Iron Daemon known as the Skullcracker. When laying siege to an
enemy, a Daemonsmith will sometimes remove the fel cannonades of an Iron Daemon and replace
them with a hissing and grinding arcane-mechanical conglomeration of iron hammers, hacking
blades and brutal picks. Designed to smash down walls and tear fortifications asunder, the cruel
blades of the so-called Skullcracker are equally adept at pulverizing the flesh and bones of any
enemy unfortunate to be caught in its implacable path.
Finally the Chaos Dwarf crew themselves carry some weapons that are seen in the Chaos Dwarf unit
section.
Defense: Its a massive target clad in plate-equivalent armor. Very durable to harm, and normally
artillery weapons would be required to kill it.
As mentioned the Iron Daemon is not only going to have an important role in battle but carting
around other artillery pieces. With Iron Daemons their mobility improves greatly- save possibly in
the most difficult of terrain or weather conditions- but without the Chaos Dwarf artillery advance
slows to a crawl.
Mobility: Immovable, requires Iron Daemon
Magma cannons are a powerful and evil weapon designed solely to deal with packed masses of
troops charging their lines. When these trolls, orcs or what have you get close the canon lets loose
a barrage of molten metal and fire, horrifically burning those caught in its blast (which is akin to
grapeshot) to death. The Magma Cannon has seen long use and been the subject of considerable
modification and experimentation by Chaos Dwarf Daemonsmith engineers and no two are quite
the same, but rather the product of an individuals malign creativity. Some use pressurized steam-
boilers to jet gouts of burning Sulphur, caustic tar or pyretic acids, while others incorporate
sorcerous bound volcanic glass shells in which molten lava drawn from the deep earth slumbers
until its shell is shattered.
Regarded as one of the great works of a Daemonsmith's craft, neophyte Sorcerer-engineers vie with
each other to produce the most deadly Magma Cannons of their own design. Many have perished
as a result of such experimentation either overcome by choking fumes, dissolved by acrid
vapours, or blown to shreds when their volatile mixtures have exploded unexpectedly. To their
overlords in the priesthood of Hashut, this is only right and proper; as such failure is not tolerated
in the service of the Father of Darkness.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: The Magma cannon has a max range of 100 meters though it will likely be used at closer
ranges then that. The crew has the weapons found in the Chaos Dwarf profile. Its molten metal is
hot enough to melt stone.
Defense: The cannon itself is durable, though killing the crew can stop it. The crew wears
blackstone armor.
Mobility: Immovable, requires Iron Daemon
Max Range: Over a Kilometer
Effective Range: Same
Preferred Range: ^^
"The dwarfs on the towers removed heavy tubular devices from racks and stuffed them down the
yawning mouths of their artillery. Shielding their eyes by lowering the visors of their helms, the dwarfs
touched flame to their weapons. A burst of blazing light, a snarl like the belly-growl of a bear, and the
weird cylinders flew from the artillery. They streaked towards the courtyard, sparks streaming from
their hollow ends. One of the rockets smashed into the outer wall of the stronghold, punching almost
clean through before becoming stuck. It sizzled there for a moment, then exploded in a burst of fire
and poisonous gas.
The second rocket smashed down into the courtyard itself, glancing off the basalt flagstones and
spinning crazily about. Northmen fled before the runaway missile, leaping upstairs and clinging to
walls to avoid its crazed movement. At last, the sparks leaping from the rockets end sputtered out and
it became still.
The Chaos Dwarfs utilize a number of different types of gunpowder-driven rocket weapons and the
Deathshrieker is one of the more diabolic examples of these weapons, as bound up within its
munitions are howling, malevolent fire-sprits harvested from the cinders of Hashuts sacrificial
altars, and it is the hellish shrieking of these sprits when loosed that gives the weapon its name. The
packed multiple warheads of the Deathshrieker detonate in the air above the battlefield in a
storm of fire fire which has its own terrible hunger for life upon which to visit its touch.
Screaming, fanged tendrils of flame plunge downwards from the blast and expend their strength
actively seeking out victims. The tormented sprits are far from discerning though as to whose flesh
they burn, and the Chaos Dwarfs must be cautious lest their own suffer from the wrathful
weapon.
In addition to the hellish Deathshrieker rockets, the launchers they use are also able to fire more
conventional demolition rockets if needs be. These use densely packed explosive rocket heads with
delayed fuses in a strengthened iron tube to channel the blast against a single point. The rocket
mounts a crown of spikes that drive the rocket into its target and hold it there whilst it explodes. In
this fashion the rocket can punch through even very dense stone and can make a terrible mess
of any large creature that gets in its way too. However in contrast to the life seeking daemonic
rockets the more conventional ones are much more inaccurate.
Chaos Dwarfs have made attempts to create larger, more powerful rocket systems however
thankfully for the inhabitants of the Warhammer world these have been horrific failures, with the
last nearly blowing up Zharr-Naggarund.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Deathrockets are hellish, semi-sentient rockets that can cause giant fireballs where they
hit, if being a bit weak in total explosive power. Demolition Rockets are those used for medium
grade fortifications or monsters but overall lack large blast radiuses needed for killing many at
once.
Rarely these rockets might veer off course, strike friendly forces, be duds or even blow-up on
launch! Chaos Dwarf operators use weapons found in the basic Chaos Dwarf profile.
Defense: The artillery itself has some armor as a vehicle; however its Chaos Dwarf handlers wear
blackshard armor.
Klaus Fritzen stared at the motley troops assembled before him Wurtbad's defence lay in the hands of
untried boys and greyhairs. Muttering to himself he inspected his 'troops'. Spearhafts had been spliced
with farming twine, spots of rust showed on their hand-medown breastplates and they would be lucky
to cut water with the blades on their weapons. Still, needs must.,.
"Wurtbad militia, attennnn-shun! Prepare to receive the attack!" Klaus bellowed over the pounding of
the Chaos Dwarf drums. Suddenly the drums ceased, and a distant screaming whine filled the air. The
noise grew louder and louder, until Klaus could make out a black speck hurtling from the skies.
"Duck you fools!" He cried as he leapt over a low wall and came down hard on the other side. Half of
his men followed, the others stood around in confusion. With a deafening roar the Earthshaker shell
landed. The explosion knocked Klaus flat, and he felt like vomiting as the ground trembled violently
beneath him. Looking up to the town wall, he realised that the shell had landed dead on target.
Nothing remained of the ancient rampart save for a few scattered stones and an acrid pall of smoke.
The thundering crashes of more shells resounded around him and was joined by a new noise. With a
sputtering hiss a Chaos Dwarf Death Rocket screamed over his head to explode inside the brewery. The
stills inside exploded, sending a massive ball of fire into the heavens and incinerating the nearby
houses. The ground shook continuously now with the fierce bombardment. Like a hellish vision, the
town of Wurtbad was lit by hundreds of roaring fires and the air was thick with smoke. Occasionally a
building would collapse, sending out a storm of debris which scythed through the nearby defenders.
The barrage stopped abruptly and in the eerie silence that followed Klaus could hear the moans and
screams of the dying. Suddenly, a horn sounded from beyond the shattered walls, its signal echoed
from every direction. Answering howls filled the air and the sound of hundreds of running beasts came
to the militia Captain's ears. Outside, shadows appeared through the smoke as a strong wind whipped
up. The how Is intensified and suddenly a wave of slavering beasts burst over the smashed ramparts
and was upon the scattered humans. Clinging to the backs of the Giant Wolves were Hobgoblins, who
swung left and right, using the flats of their blades as clubs.
Klaus swung out with his halberd but missed, and suddenly the sky exploded The last thing he saw was
row upon row of Blunderbuss muzzles pointing menacingly through the breach When Klaus wakened
he cursed softly He was being dragged between two of his friends, Michel the baker and Helmut the
miller. As his head cleared he surveyed his surroundings. The air was cold and sharp, and in front of
him dropped a massive valley A sudden rush of air knocked him to his knees as his wobbly legs gave
was. A massive creature soared low overhead, bellowing its wrath.-WD 186
Mobility: Immovable, requires Iron
Daemon
Max Range: Several Kilometers
Preferred Range: ^^
Dreadquake Mortars are amongst the

largest and most effective of all the
mighty siege weapons deployed by the
Chaos Dwarfs. They rank alongside other
such mighty bombards and cannon able to
rend the earth and smash through layered
stone fortifications as if they were
kindling. The Dreadquakes deadly
projectiles are fired by steam pressure
that is generated by a boiler and
contained within a pressure vessel
conventional gunpowder being far too
dangerous given the volatility of the Dreadquakes unique and powerful shells. As a consequence it
takes quite a while for the machine to generate enough steam to fire a single shot limiting its
potential in battle. But even on the open field it is a supremely dangerous weapon against large
and static targets and if successfully fired against enemy infantry, it can wreak carnage as more
than one Orc tribe of the Worlds Edge Mountains has found to their cost.
The Dreadquake's shells are of a secret construction whose arcana are the sole preserve of the
Chaos Dwarf Sorcerer Lords and prophets of Hashut. When fired from the Dreadquake they burst
into a roaring; blood red light, and when they strike they explode, shattering buildings apart
and smashing into the ground like a hammer-blow from the gods, bleeding crimson energy from
the wounded earth. These shells take the form of metal spheres and are so heavy and unwieldy
that an Ogre commonly forms part of the machine's crew in order to speed up the loading.
==LOADOUT==
Gotrek's scowl spoke volumes. But before he could reply, the air was split by a whistling shriek that
had everyone groping to cover their ears. A moment later, a thunderous boom cracked the sky and
then, farther down the parapet, a huge chunk of stone was blasted free, carrying dwarfs with it to their
doom. The whole wall shuddered from the impact and Felix nearly lost his balance. 'What in Sigmar's
name was that?' he shouted.
'Mortar,' Gotrek roared. 'There's a Grimnir-be-damned mortar out there somewhere!' Gotrek and
Felix: Road of Skulls
Offensive: Dreadquake rounds are truly massive shells capable of destroying dozens of men with
each massive blast and stunning more with miniature Earthquakes. However as a downside the
shells are exceptionally dangerous to handle (and heavy, requiring a slave-ogre) with the weapon
firing far slower than other vehicles.
The Chaos Dwarf handlers have weapons shown in that section, while the Ogre slave, if convinced
to fight, would have a giant club or something.
Defense: The artillery itself has some armor as a vehicle; however its Chaos Dwarf handlers wear
blackshard armor.
Mobility: 5
Max Range: Several Kilometers
Effective Range: 600+ Meters
Preferred Range: If given the

daemon-machines choice, melee.
Part daemon, part war machine,

the Hellcannon of Chaos is a
massive construct of iron and
brass that growls and shakes with
diabolic sentience. In battle, these
arcane engines heave great blasts
of daemonic energy arcing
through the air toward their
targets, incandescent explosions
liquefying anything they touch
and sending the survivors
screaming in all directions.
These hell-forged beasts are
guided rather than crewed by
their teams of corrupt and twisted
Chaos Dwarfs, in whose volcanic
furnaces the Hellcannons are created. It is their duty to restrain the Hellcannon in the fires of battle,
for the daemons bound within each war construct hunger constantly for a banquet of warm flesh
and hot blood laced with the taste of fear.
The Dawi Zharr load their charge brutally by shoveling the bodies of their foes (or slaves) into the
dire-furnace at the Hellcannon's rear. Flesh runs like wax, dribbling onto the earth under the
crew's feet in thick, hissing gobs as the daemonic fires strip away flesh and feed upon the captives'
souls. These are perverted into wailing bolts of pure chaos, and vomited toward the Hellcannon's
target in powerful spasms of hate and malice.
A Hellcannon, towering above the Chaos Dwarfs and their greenskin allies, is almost as durable as a
greater daemon. Such is the strength and bloodlust of the Daemonic machine that it must be
chained to the ground to prevent it from rampaging toward the enemy lines, intent on
gorging itself on raw flesh. Even these precautions prove inadequate should the enemy draw too
close; it is whispered that there is nothing that can truly stay a Hellcannon's insatiable lust for
destruction. A single Hellcannon is quite capable of blasting apart the walls of even the most
stalwart fortress.
Though larger than normal, Knights of the Realm does provide exacting dimensions for the main
Hellcannon shown in the book. It was twenty feet long, with a cannon barrel with the same
diameter, fifteen feet high and weighed more than a Norse longship fully laden with treasure.
Even scaling down from that slightly the average Hellcannon is a truly massive device. Fortunately
for their enemies, these devices are exceptionally rare and difficult to build.
The sky was filled with a hideous roaring sound, and Calard shielded his eyes against the inferno as
another fireball came screaming down towards the island. Even from this distance, Calard could feel
the intense heat it radiated as it fell inexorably towards one of the immense towers looming above the
eastern curtain wall. Calard looked on in horror.
Men were streaming away from the doomed tower, racing along the walls to either side of it and
hurling themselves down the stairs leading from its lower levels to the inside courtyard. There was
only one exit from the top of the tower, a steep spiralling staircase, and no doubt scores of men would
be fighting to hurl themselves down it. Calard knew that none of them would survive.
The roaring inferno struck the top of the tower with colossal force, engulfing it in red fire. The entire
castle trembled beneath the impact, and the top two levels of the tower were utterly demolished in an
instant. Stone turned molten beneath the unnatural heat, running like syrup down the sheer sides of
the walls, and tons of red-hot rock were sent flying in all directions.
Hundreds of men were consumed in the raging holocaust. Those standing exposed on top of the tower
were killed instantly, flesh and bones burnt away to cinders even as the trebuchets were rendered into
ash. The skin of those inside burst into flame, their lungs filled with scalding heat and fire as they
breathed in. The top of the tower exploded like earthenware left too long in a kiln, stonework thrown
out in all directions. The lucky ones were ripped apart in the detonation, heads and bodies crushed by
hunks of superheated stone, but those that were not killed instantly were hurled into the air, their flesh
burning as they plummeted hundreds of feet to their deaths.
Molten, burning chunks of rock crashed down into the buildings within the castle walls, smashing
through shingled and thatched roofs, and a dozen of them were instantly ablaze.
The walls of Castle Lyonesse had stood resolute in the face of the restless dead of cursed Mousillon, and
had repelled more than one large-scale assault by the dark elven kin from across the seas. They had
withstood stones hurled by catapults, had defied battering rams, and even held firm against the
cannons of the Empire navy. Yet even after just minutes of this barrage, it was clear that Castle
Lyonesse was doomed unless the enemy artillery was neutralised.
A red-hot piece of stonework the size of a man's head spun end over end down towards Calard. He
shouted a warning and dived to the side as it arced towards him. It took a peasant warden standing
nearby squarely in the face, taking his head clean off.
There was an almighty crash, and Calard looked up to see the upper half of the tower, or at least the
half which had not already been destroyed, collapse and fall, its structural integrity shattered. Once
again the earth shook as hundreds of tons of stonework smashed to the ground, causing a great cloud
of dust to rise.
'By the blood of the Breton,' swore Calard, seeing the terrible destruction that had been wrought.
'Not even the cannons of Nuln are so potent,' said Dieter, his face red from the exertion of racing down
the stairs.
'If this continues, Lyonesse will be a molten ruin in hours,' said Reolus, his eyes blazing with rage.
A section of the eastern wall was struck by a fiery inferno as Calard jogged along behind Reolus, and
screams of pain and fear echoed through the night as a fifty foot section exploded inwards, as if it were
made of sodden timber, not thirty feet of solid rock. The war machine had struck high, taking off the
top twenty feet of the high wall. A full breach had not been smashed through the immense barrier, but
Calard had no doubt that the next shot would be recalculated to be more damaging still. Knight of
the Realm
Even as the engineers wheeled their cannons and bolt shooters towards this new threat, the first
hellcannon opened fire. Its great bronze jaw opened, revealing a sulphurous gullet that squirmed with
bound magic. From the depths of its gullet, dark fire churned as it digested the souls trapped within
the skulls that had been shoveled into its burning furnace. With a belching roar, the cannon vomited
forth a ball of fire that arced high over the marauders, descending towards the army of Karak Kadrin.
The Chaos fire exploded on impact with the ground, consuming dozens of dwarfs within its fiery blast,
their ashes scattered to the spring wind within an instant. A gaping hole had been opened in the Karak
Kadrin line, as those that had survived the attack retreated from the smoldering crater it had left.-
Grudgebearer
Offensive: The Hellcannon fires a massive bolt of energy known as doomfire at great range.
Depending on how crowded the opposition is this can kill dozens at once for most variants of
this cannon, with the extraordinarily large variant in Knight of the Realm (named Ereshkigal-
Namtar) capable of incinerating hundreds of closely packed knights with each shot. This
blast can ignore armor and turn enemies to ash. The handlers of the weapon utilize axes and typical
Chaos Dwarf weaponry.
However the daemon-engine is extremely unreliable, and might just charge enemy lines on its
own accord if its owners cannot control it. Even if they get it to fire it might still seize the
instance to rebel, consuming its handlers , consuming some of the Winds of Magic on the
battlefield (hurting their own side) , breaking its chains to rush forward or, in the worst case
scenario, breaking its chains, killing its handlers, and then going on a warpath against Chaos
forces until put down. Sometimes also it might fire a massively powerful blast that completely
drains it of use afterwards.
As he gathered his hammerers around him again, converging on the standard still proudly borne aloft
by Hengrid who stood shouting defiantly at the twisted cousins of the dwarf, a cannonball bounced off
the earth and sheared through the chains holding down one side of a hellcannon. With its bonds
weakened, the daemonic engine reared backward, its wheels grinding of their own accord, crushing
the crew beneath the steel spikes of its treads. As it turned, the remaining chains snapped and tore
from the ground and it vomited forth a stream of fire and filth that burned and corroded through the
cannon next to it. Attacked by its neighbour, the earthshaker screamed in pain and anger and threw
itself at its own chains, ignoring the shouts and prods of its crew. The freed hellcannon rumbled
forward, carving through the Chaos dwarfs and marauders, belching flame and trampling them under
its armoured wheels. Malignant energy flared from pores and gashes in its structure and the
marauders turned to battle against the creature that attacked them from the rear.
-An example, from Grudgebearer, of what happens when the C. Dawi lose control of their vehicles.
Defense: The artillery itself possesses powerful brass armor and innate durability. Said armor is
thick enough that normal melee weapons and arrows stand no chance of getting through. The
Chaos Dwarf crews have blackshard armor.
Abruptly, there came a sound like a mountain falling, and a comet trailing hellish red flames shot up
into the air from the top of the steep-sided hillock. It soared up high and Calard followed its trajectory
skyward, mouth gaping wide in shock and wonder. Then the roaring comet reached the top of its arc
and began to descend towards the ground; towards the charging Bretonnians.
'Lady protect us,' Calard breathed as the roiling inferno came screaming down towards the valley
floor, and he heard shouts of panic and fear spread through the ranks.
Calard was thrown from the saddle as the missile smashed down amongst the knights fifty feet to his
left, making the ground shudder beneath the impact, and the sounds of horses and men roaring in
agony rose to the heavens, louder even than the screaming winds. The heatwave of the blast burnt
Calard's lungs, and he gasped as, even at this distance, his plate armour heated up to an
uncomfortable level.
Those knights closer in to the blast were cooked alive inside their armour, their flesh bursting into
flames along with tabards, banners and horseflesh. A circle over fifty yards in diameter was scorched
into the ground, ice and snow instantly turning to steam. Hundreds died in that first barrage, their
flesh igniting beneath the intense heat, their blood boiling within their veins.
Those directly under the impact of the fireball were unrecognisable, nothing more than charred,
twisted corpses that still burned fiercely. So intense were the unnaturally burning, vivid red flames
that plate armor ran like quicksilver, dripping onto the ground in flaming, hissing blobs.
Below are those Chaos Dwarf contraptions that, while existing, are either only seen once, incredibly
difficult to build, or somewhat antiquated. In fact of those below, only one has had any mention in
recent additions.
Mobility: 3
Max & Effective Range: 500 meters (Bazuka) -50 meters (Swivel Gun)
The Bazuka is a simple-seeming tube like weapon fires a rocket with a powerful explosive
warhead. Its main advantage is that it is light and relatively simple to use. It dispenses with the
need for a cumbersome chassis and can be carried about with a crew of two - one to carry the
rockets, one to carry the gun. Its blasts, always requiring a clear line of sight, are powerful but slow
to reload. As this technology is also unperfected there is a chance of this gun misfiring or even
blowing up in the gunners face!
From behind Felix came a weird spluttering hissing noise. Something flashed past overhead, trailing
fire. It exploded in the dragons wounded side, sending great chunks of flesh hurtling outwards, and
exposing bone and inner organs. The dragon let out a fearsome roar that was somewhere between a
bellow and a scream. As he closed with the creature, Felix could hear the air hissing out of the dragons
lungs through the hole in its chest.
Felix saw that Malakai was stuffing something into the metal tube he carried once more. As the dragon
started to rise, he finished the operation and swung the cylinder into position on his shoulder. The
dragon stretched its neck towards him, and as it did so, Malakai pulled some sort of trigger on the
front of the tube. Sparks flew from the back of the tube and another projectile flashed forth and sped
straight towards the dragons mouth. It reminded Felix of the fireworks he had seen unleashed at
Altdorf to celebrate the Emperors birthday. No firework had ever exploded with quite such violence
though. The force of the explosion loosened several of the dragons man-sized fangs, and tore a hole in
the top of the creatures mouth . Gotrek and Felix: Dragonslayer. Note this dragon was
exceptionally large and powerful, being over 100 feet tall and heavily mutated by Chaos. However
as a later quote shows the bazooka does not have an exceptionally large blast radius, being able
to kill only 6 orcs in formation at once (and likely wound several others).
The Chaos Dwarf Swivel Gun is a light, portable cannon which only requires a crew of two
Chaos Dwarfs to operate. Unlike heavier cannons which fire a solid ball, the Swivel Gun fires
devastating blasts of shrapnel.. The shrapnel inflicts hits on enemy troops within a broad arc of
fire. This wide arc of fire, and the weapon's mobility in the hands of experienced operators, make
the Swivel Gun an excellent weapon for providing close artillery support.
Other benefits include the fact that the Swivel gun is almost always with a source of ammo, as
the Chaos Dwarfs can just pick junk off the ground, stuff it inside the canon, then fire. It can
reload really easily, with at least one enemy force dying due to surprise of the fact.
Mobility: 6
The Whirlwind is a two-wheeled push-cart with spikes fixed to the front and scythes protruding
from the wheels. Three rotating flails and three rotating scythes are mounted on the front, and are
driven by means of cogs and gears linked to the axle. The flails and scythes therefore only rotate
while the cart is being pushed. The Whirlwind is principally a device for breaking up and
smashing through solid formations of troops. Should the device succeed, it may proceed to
engage other targets beyond. Several of these devices may form up in a unit to create a combined
attack.
The Tenderizer is a variant of the Whirlwind. Its axle is linked by gears to three enormous
concussive implements. As the device is pushed forward these implements batter and crush foes
in its path. It operates in a similar way to the Whirlwind except that the nature of the damage
inflicted is different. Both devices are pushed by bull centaurs.
he defending army was formed up and waiting. Elves, Dwarfs and Humans all knew that they must win
this day or let Chaos break through into the Forest of Shadows and the Middle Mountains. The Ogre
mercenaries were no less determined: their plates had been filled, and their fighting reputation was at
stake.
Over the crest of the rise, the forces of Chaos came into view, rank by rank. There were black-armoured
riders on warped, variously-legged mounts; towering champions whose massive swords and axes
keened with an unholy hunger. Beastmen of all shapes, sizes and colours. And around them, like a
roiling sea, seethed a press of other... things - the Spawns of Chaos.
But all eyese were on the machines which rolled before the Chaos pack. They advanced in a single
rank, the width of the Chaos army, with their spiked, two-wheeled frames, their whirling blades and
their thrashing hammers. The Elven archers and Dwarven crossbows loosed two volleys before fallint
back to their pre-arranged postitions. The missiles had little effect, the bulk of them thudding
harmlessly into the grotesque carved panels which shielded each machine.
The machines began to gather speed. As they approached, their crews could be seen - centauroid
creatures, an unnatural blend of Dwarf and boar. They ran almost as fast as a charging horse,
handling the machines as easily as a gardener uses a wheelbarrow.
The machines ploughed sickeningly into the Ogre mercenaries tha held the centre. Blades and flails
whirled, hammers and maces thrashed. Flesh and sinew shredded, bone and iron shattered. For all
their strength and courage, the Ogres were decimated in a matter of seconds.
The centre was now dangerously weak - with the Ogres effectively destroyed, the full force of the
enemy would now fall on the Human contingent, and Chaos could break through the centre before the
flanks could move to reinforce it. The advantage now lay with Chaos.
Mobility: 5
Max & Effective Range: Cannon
Barundin had no time to spare to see how his veterans fared, for something else was moving up the
valley. It strode forward, a great mechanical giant, belching smoke and fire, the air around it
shimmering not just with heat but also diabolical energy. Plated with riveted iron and fashioned in the
shape of a great bull-headed man, the infernal machine was rocked back as a cannonball struck it in
the midriff, leaving a tearing gate.
Oil spilled from the wound like blood, and smashed gears and broken chains could be seen through the
rent in its armor.
A kollossus, whispered Hengrid, and for the first time ever, Barundin could detect fear in the fierce
warriors voice. Not when they had faced the disgusting rat ogres, the whirling fanatics of the night
goblins, the noisome trolls, the crackling energy of the shamans had Hengrid ever shown a moments
hesitation; now his voice quavered, if only slightly.
--Grudgebeaer
Seen only in grudgebearer, the colossus is a many meter sized giant of metal and daemon. By virtue
of size alone this iron monstrosity can crush and smash through lesser lines, even knock over
towering creatures. To make matters worse it also has in-built flamethrowers in its shoulders
and repeating cannons in its bull-mouth. This construct was durable enough that it took a
gyrocopter and several rounds of direct canon impacts to topple it.
Mobility: 2
Effective Range: 200-300m
Hobgoblins build clumsy devises and weapons, from wolf-pulled wagons to cruel devices designed
only for the purpose of inflicting pain and torture upon their enemies. The Hobgoblins carelessly
lash wood and iron together resulting in crudely constructed contraptions, often lethal to both
Hobgoblin and foe alike!
The most common war machine Hobgoblins construct is the potent spear chukka - a giant, lever-
operated bow that fires huge bolts capable of penetrating deep into ranked formations of
troops, skewering masses of soldiers at once or even dispatching a large beast in a single deadly
shot.
Although crude and primitive compared to the arsenals of the Chaos Dwarfs, Hobgoblin spear
chukkas can provide effective ranged supportthat is, if they actually hit
If need be the Chaos Forces can build catapults, trebuchet and ballista, though they will only do
this for a protracted siege. Giant Ladders can also be built for those circumstances, and Lord
Mortkins campaign showed shows Chaos Dwarves building giant steam-driven Siege Towers
capable of repelling cannon fire.
The following are rare Chaos monsters who either occasionally march alongside Chaos armies or who
can be summoned by extremely rare magical items known as the scrolls of binding. Each is far rarer
than even the monsters in the shock and awe section.
Found in the most treacherous regions of
the Warhammer world, from the
Bloodspine Mountains of the unknown
Southlands to the Grey Peaks that
shoulder the Empire, Basilisks are a
reclusive menace. They are a living blight
so inimical to life that they poison the
very ground they walk upon, the venom that suffuses their body and spirit capable of swiftly reducing
verdant land to ruined waste.
Their fifteen foot bodies are covered with brightly colored scales from the membranous fins upon their
head to the tip of their muscled tail; a warning of their noxious nature.
They prowl stealthily on eight legs, and are capable of moving swiftly enough to run down even the
quickest prey. The most potent weapon in the Basilisks arsenal, however, is its gaze. Renowned in
folklore across the Old World for its lethal potency, the sickly pale eyes of the Basilisk can focus the
essence of their poisonous soul, withering their prey until its skin and flesh slough away.
A monstrous creature was gripping the underside of the causeway. It was larger than a bull; its body
covered in shiny brown and black scales where its skin was not pale and peeling. The upside down
monster maintained its hold on the causeway with eight powerful legsthe sharp black claws of each
foot sunk deep into the stone. A bloated, fat tail drooped from the monsters body.
As the horrified goblin watched, the creatures horned, reptilian head turned towards it. A membrane
snapped into place over the monsters eerie yellow eyes as it focused on its prey. As the goblin tried to
run, a bright flash of searing energy passed from the eyes of the basilisk to those of the goblin. In an
instant the transforming Chaos energies spread from the goblins eyes to the rest of its body. The goblins
terrified paralysis became permanent as its skin was turned to stone. The basilisks scaly jaws opened in
a hungry yawn.
()
The basilisk rounded on its attackers, hissing as it drew a deep breath. The goblin that had thrown the
spear squeaked in fright, turning and fleeing as fast as its legs could carry it. Two other goblins hesitated,
uncertain whether to press the assault or flee as well. Their hesitation made the decision for them.
Angered by the wound in its left rear leg, the reptile scuttled forward at great speed. Powerful jaws
snapped closed on the foremost goblin while a swipe from one of the reptiles legs tore open the other.
The basilisk crushed the maimed goblin under its foot, breaking those parts of the goblin its claws had
not ripped apart. The giant lizard lifted its head, swallowing the still struggling form of its enemy whole.
Then the monster was among the rest of its foes.
The basilisks movements were swift and brutal. The powerful tail lashed from side to side in battering
blows that broke bones whenever it struck. As the enraged lizard lumbered amidst the greenskins, its
claws slashed and ripped, its fanged jaws closing on green flesh as often as empty air. Mangled goblins
were hurled about like rag dolls, their screaming bodies landing in tattered heaps to moan and whine in
agony, and to painfully crawl from the rage of their monstrous foe.
The reptiles rampage carried it through the goblins and their orc allies. Brunner readied himself as the
maddened beast came near. He fired the repeating crossbow, and the bolt crunched into the thick bone
just above the creatures eye. The lizard reared back from the painful injury, its tree-like tail lashing the
ground. Brunner fired again, this time putting a bolt into the monsters cheek. The basilisks frenzied
motion became even more agitated and it worked its injured jaw to try and remove the hurtful bolt
embedded in its flesh.
The basilisk began to bob its body up and down in an angry, threatening display, its breath hissing loudly,
wrathfully. Brunner fired again, the shot once more narrowly missing the monsters eye. This time it sank
into the flesh of the reptiles neck. The bounty killer swore as he saw the membranes snap close over the
lizards yellow eyes. The terrible Chaos energies were building up within the reptile. Brunner hastily
averted his eyes, knowing as he did so that he left himself open to the rending claws and snapping jaws
of the beast.
A thick, powerful axe-blow severed one of the basilisks rear legs. It spun about, its small brain too angry
now to take any great notice of this new wound. The basilisks attacker lifted his axe for another cleaving
stroke, but his piggish red eyes found themselves transfixed by the petrifying gaze of the monster. The
orc did not emit any sound as the transforming energies flowed into his body, hardening his scarred hide
into a shell of stone, as the Chaos power cooked his innards.
The necklace-wearing orc was charging the monster even as his comrade was turned to stone. The
goblins were dead or running, the other orc lying somewhere, broken by the basilisks tail. Now the
brutes last ally had been slain. The orc roared a throaty challenge through his tusked mouth and ran at
the giant reptile. The orcs great weight slammed into the stone carcass of his comrade, toppling its body
onto the head of the lizard. The statue broke apart as it smashed into the basilisks skull, dashing its head
against the hard floor.
The orc did not hesitate, but leaped onto the back of the stunned reptile. The greenskins sword rose and
fell, gouging great cuts into the basilisks body. The lizard shook its body from side to side, trying to
dislodge the clinging orc straddling its back. As the lizards neck craned about to try and fix its foe with
the petrifying gaze, a steel bolt shot out of the darkness, exploding the basilisks left eye. The lizard rolled
onto its back, crushing the orc beneath it as it writhed in agony.- Brunner the Bounty Hunter
The Cockatrice is an unsettling and repulsive flying creature that reeks of Chaos. While they are not as
physically fearsome as many other monsters, they have the curious ability to petrify their foes with a
magical gaze, literally turning them to stone with a glance unless they can evade its sorcerous stare.
This ability makes the Cockatrice a deadly opponent, for a warrior must try to vanquish the beast
without ever setting eyes upon it. Even then it can fight with poisonous claws and acidic spit.
The Great Spined Chaos beast can be likened to a massive Chaos Warhound, albeit one that he been
mutated and enlarged hideously. Its skin seems stretched too far and constantly rips asunder, only to
constantly heal again when the creature regenerates. Its teeth, each one longer than a man is tall,
continually grow and then push themselves out of its massive maw, before regrowing anew. The Spined
Beasts very existence is exceptionally painful, which is while it seeks to vent its torment on any enemy it
can find. Only through inflicting pain on others can it relieve its own.
On the battlefield the Spined Chaos Beasts attack is as simple as it is effective. It charges into combat,
knocking any on the way aside or impaling them with its trademark spines that erupt painfully from its
back (in its bloodlust this would include friendly Chaos forces) . Once in combat it uses its maw and
jaws to swallow people whole or maul them apart with its teeth. Regeneration, and the difficulty that
comes from trying to hit this creature in close combat thanks to its spikes, helps ensure its longevity.
In addition some of these creatures have been blessed by one of the gods and get a corresponding buff;
from Khorne increased strength, Tzeentch offers light magical shielding, Nurgle makes it so enemies
have a harder time hitting the creature, and Slaanesh improves its attack speed.
The incarnate elemental of beasts, a rare summon that only a select few Bray-Shamans know, is the
embodiment of natures ferocity, cruelty and hunger. It is a taut, gigantic man-shaped creature capable
of running down prey with the speed of a horse on full gallop.
In combat the creatures unholy howl has been known to make men flee just from the sound of it.
Those that flee are gleefully hunted down. If forced into direct combat the Beasts immense strength,
claws, antlers and jaws are more than capable of dealing with assailants and just one of these have
completely cleared a town before.
The Cursd Ettin is a monster feared and reviled even in the Northern Wastes, a land of monsters.
Descended from a single clan these former humans paid the price when they ignored a call to war by the
Chaos Gods to travel to the Southlands, instead opting to pillage their fellow neighbors in Norsca. The
Chaos Gods cursed them, allowing them to keep their strength but warping them beyond all
recognition.
Now the Cursd Ettin roam the wastes, hated by all and hating all. It can truly be a terrifying foe, for the
Ettin enjoys torturing enemies to take its spite out on anything it can. Thanks to magical runes carved on
its skin it can use the most basic of spells from the Lore of Shadow, Death or Beasts. Its hands have
been either molded into something resembling crude hammers or long scythes. Some of them have
scaly skin as strong as plate mail. However if there is a weakness, its that the beasts have two
personalities, and sometimes switches between them in battle.
Foolhardy knights of Bretonnia sometimes mistake the savage and hateful Preyton for the noble Great
Stags of their land, and will follow this twisted beast, possessed of a dark cunning, into the very deepest
parts of the forest. Only there, where there is little chance of escape, will it finally reveal its deadly form,
its savage fangs, leonine paws, tough scales and monstrous wings, and attack the unsuspecting
warrior.
While their appearance is truly vile, it is the legendary malice of the Preyton that makes them
particularly dangerous. Corpses mauled beyond recognition and tracts of forest befouled and trampled
betray their presence, the savage creature often discarding the torn ruin of their victims to rot, killing
out of pure hatred rather than hunger. Little is known of their origins, but dark legend has it that in ages
past they were Great Stags who were enslaved and corrupted before sacrifice-strewn herdstones. Now,
bereft of their nobility, the Preytons know only an all-encompassing hatred for that which they have
lost.
Mobility: 5
Max Range: Battlefield
Effective Range: Sacrificial Range:
50m
Preferred Range: Out od Direct
Combat
The Men of Chaos are well aware

that their actions draw notice of the
Chaos gods, and seek to capitalize
on that. To that end they bring these
massive portable shrines, carried on
the back of large beasts, in order to
attract their attention. Often these
portable shrines are tailor-made to
each Chaos Gods specialty:
Khornes are full of skulls, brass,
spikes and blood; Slaanesh silk,
incense and the draped skins of
human flesh; Nurgles are giant piles
of waste and biohazards; and
Tzeentchs are butterflies, crystal
statues and the music of the stars.
The Shrines mount is enticed to the

front-lines by the Shrine master,
who then conducts vile rituals and
battlefield sacrifices on top its altar.
These are described as being like
sweet nectar to the Chaos Gods, and
the air ripples whenever their
attention is drawn. Such energy raises the morale of the Warriors of Chaos first and foremost, who
know that their gods are watching.
Chaos Warshines areusually pulled by giant half-daemon things, which are only somewhat controllable
by the Shrine master. Any that get close must deal with gigantic claws and jaws.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: The Shrine bearers are Chaos Warriors that can carry halberds or other long weapons. The
beast, as noted, is about 2x the size of an ogre and armed with vicious claws and jaws.
Defensive: The Shrine has some magical protection from the gods that must be taken care of for it to
be destroyed.
The real blessing a Chaos Shrine provides is to all those top the men of chaos in regards to godly gifts,
increasing the likelihood of positive blessings to those within its aura (50 meters) with decreased
chance of a negative spawndom or other punishment. This is just a passive effect. In addition at times
the shrine master might directly acquire the blessing of the gods and bestow it upon up to three
champions at once. Along with any buffs they normally get, this increases the chance a Chaos champion
might become a Daemon Prince, though it would still be an exceptionally rare event.
However sometimes the Chaos Altar is infused with power to an incredible degree and Gods can be
used as conduits to power hundreds of men at once, though rare. The example shown below comes
from the Legend of Sigmar.
It towered over the Norsii, a mighty altar of blood and blades pulled by two mighty steeds with curling
rams horns and smouldering coals for eyes. More nightmares made flesh than animals, the beasts skins
smoked with furnace heat and their flanks ran with steaming blood. Skulls tumbled from the monstrous
construction, and endless rivulets of boiling blood poured from the altar, staining the flagstones with
hissing red streams. Black smoke twisted and billowed in defiance of the wind, and Sigmar blinked as he
thought he saw screaming skulls in its depths.
The Norsii gathered around it, howling a single name that sent spasms of nausea stabbing through his
body. It was a name of death, yet Sigmar felt his warriors heart stirred by the damnable syllables. A
towering warrior in blood-soaked armour marched to the fore, bearing a black banner that seethed with
the power of a storm, its surface alive with chained arcs of black lightning.
()
Along the length of the wall, the Norsii threw themselves at the men of the empire with renewed fury,
the ancient power of their northern gods searing their veins and filling them with rage. It was a
destructive power that would consume them without care, but not one of the Norsii feared such an end.
Sigmar rolled, feeling the mans skin ripple and bulge beneath him, as though a mass of snakes writhed
in his chest. The tribesmans lengthening fangs snapped at his neck, and only the silver gorget saved
Sigmar from having his throat ripped out.
He punched the man in the face. Bone broke and fangs snapped, but the mans flesh was like iron. His
skin was darkening, and a pair of bony horns erupted from his forehead in a frothing shower of pink
flesh. A spear plunged into the tribesmans side, and he reared up to tear the belly from the spearman.
Sigmar scrambled clear, and swept up Ghal-maraz as the tribesman, now more beast than man, sprang
at him once again.
He loosened his grip on his warhammer, letting it slide until he held it just beneath the head. Sigmar
stepped to meet the monster and punched Ghal-maraz straight at his enemys face with all his strength
behind the blow.
The creatures head burst apart and its grey-fleshed body dropped to the cobbled esplanade. The body
jerked and kicked, as though the change wracking its body was not yet done and fresh horns, limbs and
bony protuberances erupted from its flesh.
Sigmar leapt back to the makeshift fighting step, seeing that the entire mass of the Norsii were fighting
like beasts, their bodies infused with dark magic and warping to render them less than human.
Transformation ran amok through the Norsemen, and Sigmar saw a group of warriors whose skin had
become scaled and reptilian. Some sprouted horns like those of a mighty bull, while the bodies of others
writhed with blazing green flames. A few hurled themselves from the viaduct, their minds unhinged by
the dreadful power coruscating through their ranks.
Redwane fought with a tribesman whose body had swollen to gargantuan proportions, his muscles
corded with veins like ropes, whose armour had ruptured into fragments. Crossbow bolts peppered the
giants body, but they were little more than irritants to the berserk warrior. Redwane held the beast at
bay long enough for Jutone spearmen to drive the maddened creature back to the wall, where
Unberogen swordsmen finally hacked it down.
In the centre of the Norsii charge, the ghastly altar of skulls and brass pulsed with unholy light, a foul
beacon of dark sorcery. Its dreadful power surged through the Norsii. Beside the altar, the warrior in
bloody armour laughed with the sound of thunder.
It had to be destroyed or this battle was as good as over.
A mass of screaming, maddened tribesmen stood between him and the altar.
Only one group of warriors had a chance of reaching it.
Kings Blades! shouted Sigmar, vaulting the wall to land in the midst of the Norsii. With me! Legend
of Sigmar
Mobility: 5
Max & Effective Range: Spells
The Bray-Shaman is a Beastman born directly of magic,

showing such talent from an early age. As these
abilities manifest the bray-shaman is taken and trained
to be a messenger of the gods by elder shaman.
Thanks to their ability to consult with the gods, it is
often the Bray-shaman that has the most power in
Beastmen society. Nor do they need to worry about
infighting from other Beastman jockeying for position,
for few would dare wound a representative of the
gods.
Shamans radiate un-holiness and corruption. The very

presence of a powerful shaman is enough to cause
tree roots to writhe unnaturally, parasites to surround them, and reality to begin to crack. Evil animals
are known to follow their lead, and the Shaman can use these creatures for spying purposes, or even
turn into them himself.
Unlike Beastlords, who embody the Beastlord desire to destroy man himself, Bray-Shamans have a
higher calling. Their objective is the annihilation of nothing less than the gods of man themselves, for
the very idea of any claiming to contest dominion alongside the "true" Chaos Gods is repugnant to them.
To that end it is the burning desire of every bray-shaman to tear down man's temples, defile their holy
sites, and sacrifice their holy men to the Dark Gods.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: For melee they wield a large, heavy bray-staff good for bludgeoning. At range they are spell
casters, capable of using spells from the Lore of the Wild, Of Death, of Shadow and of Beasts. Most are
level 1-2 shaman, meaning they know comparably few spells, though quite a few are extremely skilled
level 3-4. Sometimes they might come equipped with magical weapons.
Defensive: They do not normally wear armor, as they have little to fear from other Beastmen. However
sometimes a Shaman on his own might decide to acquire (loot or given by the Chaos Gods) magical
armor. Magical trinkets can be equipped, with examples giving them magical resistance or unleashing a
minor spell to temporarily blind enemy archers.
The Bray-Shaman is the spiritual leader of the Beastmen and thus commands a ton of respect. Their
orders are usually followed without question, even by powerful beastlords, and thus Bray-Shamans can
enact a great deal of influence over the Bray-herd. Sometimes they might even become direct leaders of
it, as the legendary Gorthor was Shaman and Beastlord both. Bray-Shaman might come mounted on a
chariot.
Bray-shamen are rare and usually there is only 1-2 per warherd.
Mobility: 5.5
Yes, we resemble beasts. Yes, we are savage.

Neither of those things makes us stupid. That
often comes as a surprise to Humans. Invariably
it is the last thing that ever surprises them.
Beastlord Grakkle, as translated from the Beast
Tongue by Keldar Mouth-of-Chen

Beastlords are, as the name implies, are the lords of the brayherds, with warherds being the lords of
warherds (A brayherd is made up of at least a dozen of these).When the call to form a Brayherd is
sounded a competition among the different Warherds is created, where the different Wargors bash
each other until one becomes powerful enough to be a Beastlord. These beastlords are confident in
themselves and exceedingly violent, every gesture meant to be perceived as threatening. These
powerful warriors concern themselves not with the day to day running of the tribe but solely with war
and vengeance upon the civilized. They wish to wreck everything that makes man what he is, and
constantly plot to do so.
A Beastlord's leadership is based on strength, and he must constantly be careful not to show any
weakness lest an opportunistic underling seek to challenge him. This happens quite often on and off the
field, and existing chieftains often have totem poles many feet high from which dozens of hides- sheared
off from defeated challengers- are hung. Invariably among those will one day be his own, when a
stronger challenger finally comes along. These challenges have occurred on fields of battle, sometimes
resulting in success when a weak leader was replaced by a strong one. Losses in battle are all but
guaranteed to spawn challenges. Other times their enemies, such as the Empire, have used the
infighting and confusion to score victories either during, or immediately after the fights are over,
defeating a weakened foe. At least one Empire general was clever enough to deliberately spawn
challenges among different pretenders to ensure victory.
On the battlefield they count as minor heroes, each one claiming potentially dozens of ordinary men
over the course of one long battle. However unlike
Minotaurs Beastlords are not indiscriminate killers but
rather hero-oriented ones .They deliberately seek out
enemy heroes, champions and other notable fighters
in order to smash and trample them into the ground,
taking personal satisfaction in proving their supremacy
over civilized foes. In doing so they might even attract
the attention of the gods themselves!
But then Raghram unveiled himself. The shroud of

nothingness slipped from his shoulders, dissolving
against the stone like smoke. He rose to his full height,
towering over even Schwarzhelms mighty frame. He
was vast and old, reeking of death and corruption. His
eyes blazed blood-red and his leathery fingers clasped
an axe the size of a man. Cruel horns, four of them, rose
like a crown over his heavy brow and tusks hung from
his ruined face. He wore twisted iron armor over his
shoulders and breast, crudely hammered into place and
daubed with the foul devices of the Dark Gods.
In that face there was malice, ancient malice, the long, slow bitterness of the deep wood. To gaze into
that expression was to see the tortured, endless hatred of the primal world for all the doings of man.
Nothing existed there but loathing. Nothing would quench its fury but death.-Sword of Justice
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Normally giant cleavers, axes or the like. Rarely might they have a magical weapon, ranging
from a axe that causes unstoppable bleeding upon making a cut to a mace powerful enough to be
effective against tanks or an axe specially tuned to killing men, ignoring their armor. If they choose to
they can take a magical war banner.
Defensive: Usually light leather or heavy plate armor, taken from stripped metals and bashed roughly
onto the Beastlord's body. Sometimes these can include magically enchanted plate, powerful helmets,
or other more exotic defenses. Talismans might convey some limited magical resistance or even a
onetime use spell. Types of Horns, carved from the first Beastman or the boar god, are rarely seen
items that can easily rally the
Beastman force, making them
fight all the harder against a
foe.
Mobility: 5
Max & Effective

Range: Melee (likely)
'Garagrim Ironfist, Prince of

Karak Kadrin and War-
Mourner of the Slayer Keep,'
Garagrim growled, stalking
towards his opponent.
'And I am Yan the Foul, Yan of

the Khazags, Beast of the
Steppes, Wolf of the Plains, Master of-' Yan began.
'I don't care,' Garagrim said, lunging.
His axes skidded off Yan's hastily interposed blades. Yan grunted and shoved the Slayer back. 'Master of
the Red Lodge and Servant of the Eightfold Path,' Yan continued, eyes flashing. 'There. Now we're
properly introduced. Time to die, little monkey.'- Road of Skulls
An Exalted Hero is a true champion of Chaos, a paragon of deadly ability and lethal intent. From the time
of the Elder races ruled the world to the End Times these champions have sought their ascension to
daemonhood and shed their mortality. While some become Lords of Chaos, others sorcerers, the vast
majority roam the Chaos Wastes, seeking challengers from which to gain more glory. Often it is each
other that they encounter and eagerly seek, for the destruction of such a worthy foe adds greatly to
their resume.
They are the corrupted adventurers of Warhammer, traveling far and wide to kill, loot, plague, burn
and defile. Each and every warrior has a story behind them, becoming legendary figures of tribal and
even national legends. Off-hand battles, duels, treachery, corruption and more are frequently
referenced when an Exalted Hero needs to cite their resume. Many have traveled and fought for well
over a hundred years, pitting themselves against the endless threats in the Chaos Realms.
For the vast majority of exalted heroes the end result of such a quest is either death or spawndom, the
latter a result of countless mutations heaped on them by uncaring gods. However even that does not
deter these warriors, for they know tales of the most exceptional of warriors who did reach
daemonhood.
He had fought champions of the Changer, the Rot, the Lover and even the Breaker, wielding first a
sword, then magics. He had broken open the Black Vaults of the dawi zharr and fended off their stone-
footed sorcerer-kings in order to steal the Crystal of Crooked Ways, which he had spent a year and a day
carving into the mask he now wore. He had made war on the Spellbreakers of the Shifting City and on
the War-Judges of the Tahmaks, he had corrupted the monks of the White Lotus, and he had crushed the
heart of Isadora Von Carstein on the steps of the Lost Cathedral in order to prevent the vampire from
unravelling the Weaver's works. All of that had been done in the service of one goal... The death of his
false friend, Garmr.-Road of Skulls
When mustered for battle exalted heroes take their place among the normal chattel, their very presence
filling allies with inspiration and dread. When battle is joined with the enemy they can cleave through
scores of lesser men before finally seeking out and challenging enemy champions. Each death brings
them one step closer to transcendence.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: All sorts of swords, axes, great axes, halberds act. Sometimes they might have magical
weapons or chaos mutations. Though most men of Chaos have some form ofmutation, those of the
champions are usually much more potent, courtesy of their increased status. Example mutations might
include a Chaos familiar that memorizes a spell on behalf of its owner, acidic ichor in the manner of the
xenomorphs from Aliens, a flaming body that burns all those around them (miraculously, it does not
burn them), the ability to eat souls or just plain disfigurement, invoke supernatural horror etc. .
Warhammer Path of Glory (White Dwarf 277) further expands on deity based mutations , though the
following list should by no means be considered exhaustive. Tzeentch champions, for example, might
have a protean form, a petrifying gaze or numerous tendrils erupting from his or her body. Nurgles
typically have massive bulks, diseased based mutations and the ability to literally bleed Nurglings.
Slaaneshs mutations are all about bonuses derived from giving or taking pain, such as getting physically
stronger or the ability to disrupt an enemys spell. Khorne gives fury and rage boosts, as well as abilities
related to limiting the effect of enemy spellcasters.
As for weapons they might bring weapons that induce sudden change, ignore armor, or set their souls
on fire. Unfortunately the full complement of their weapons cannot be described, as many are wholly
unique in that there is only one of them available. They also are likely to have superhuman reaction
time, strength and toughness.
Defensive: Chaos Armor and sometimes shields. May take one of the above mutations or scaly, reptile
like skin. Some rare armor too, like (lore example) a helmet that foresees all actions committed by a foe
except the one destined to kill the
user.
With no more room to swing his

axe, Hors let go of it, leaving the
weapon buried in the back of the last
man to have felt its bite. He smashed
his large fists into the faces of those
around him, breaking jaws and
noses. He grabbed one soldier by the
throat and squeezed hard, crushing
his windpipe. As he let go of the
body, kept upright by the weight of
people around it, he drove his
forehead into the face of a man
trying to wrap his arm around the
Norseman's throat.
Hors felt someone grabbing

at his face from behind and he
snatched the arm in his strong grip
and twisted. There was a scream and
Hors pulled hard, the limb coming away in a spray of blood. Ignoring the punches raining onto his back
and shoulders, he turned to face the man who had attacked him. He was gibbering madly, staring at the
ragged stump of his shoulder.
'This is yours.' snarled Hors, smashing the severed limb into the man's face, breaking his neck
with the blow.
The Norseman rammed his elbow into the throat of another soldier, and then drove his fist into
his chest, buckling his thin breastplate. Choking, the man staggered back, giving Hors enough time to
pull a knife from his belt. He rammed it point first into the injured man's eyeball.
Gouging and slashing, Hors drove ever deeper into the spearmen, leaving a trail of dismembered
dead and injured in his wake.-Heart of Chaos on Chaos Champion strength
Among the followers of Chaos, Exalted Heroes have risen to such a position that, when gods give out
blessings, they are one of the most likely to get transformed into a daemon prince, though such a thing
is still rare. They can take any mount listed in the mount section with the exception of those listed as
exclusive for the Chaos Lord or those of the Chaos Dwarves.
They are rare but not extremely so, and Road of Skulls gives the statistic of 64 champions within an army
of 8,000 (almost all Warriors of Chaos, with a few Dawi Zharr assistants).
Mobility: 5
Training/Experienc: 8-9
Max & Effective

Range: Variable
And so, the Chaos

Wastes. There mindless
marauders, who had
ravaged, robbed and
butchered their way
north, gathered. They
knew not why. The road
to damnation was a
lonely one and perhaps,
Archaon considered, it
gave the doomed
comfort. To know that
there were those who
shared their madness. In
truth, they were there to
fight the foes of their
dread patrons, each
other and themselves
since there was only so
much pain and bloodshed a single man, even a man devoted to Chaos, could achieve. Marauders found
each other on the path and gathered about the suggestions of greatness in their ranks. Warbands
formed. Warbands joined together to create hordes and hosts about emerging warriors and sorcerers,
whose worthiness was tested before the growing number of the damned.
Like hungry wolves they fought each other for the wretched right to lead others of their ill-breed. Some
became dark beacons in the cold havoc of the north, attracting hordes of their battle-kin to their banner
bringing the souls of hundreds under the yoke of their dark celebrity. Such men might even earn the
loyalty of Beastmen and greenskins or even the fallen of the elder races. Such dark light in the world
might then snare the service of monsters and daemons. From such a melting pot of savagery, the
champions of Chaos are crafted. Some received the kind of infernal gifts and sponsorship required to
exalt them to infamy. Dark heroes to those in their service. They became names known by others; known
by the names of other great warriors whose heads they had claimed and followers they had taken for
their own. Some became Chaos lords and generals, commanding armies that would threaten to conquer
the very Wastes themselves. Such was the dark path to damnation and greatness. The path that the man
who had never been Diederick Kastner found himself upon. The path of the Ruinous Powers.- Archaon:
Everchosen
A Chaos Lord is an Exalted Hero who has risen, through skill in both combat and strategic acumen, to
command a legion of Chaos followers. In skill, appearance and even physical stature he towers over
other Chaos champions as if they were children, for other than a Daemon Prince he is as high up on the
food chain as one can get. His sheer force of will is often enough to bind a legion together.
Chaos lords seek endless to prove themselves to their gods against both other lords and those non-
corrupted champions of the South. They are exceptional fighters, as strong as a troll but as fast as a
striking snake. Any that meet their challenge are briefly saluted and then often hacked apart in a most
grizzly fashion.
They have carved bloody and terrible legends throughout the history of the Warhammer world. Entire
nations have fallen before these Chaos lords, and those known within the Empire are often spoken in
hushed tones ala Voldemort of the Harry Potter series, for such is the dread they inspire. With the
ascension of Archaon all of them
have flooded down into the
southlands, serving as vile
lieutenants to the man would bring
the doom of the world. This they do
for their own selfish reasons, for they
know that sheer concentration of
devotees serves as a magnet for the
gaze of the beings they worship and
thus their own deeds are far more
likely to be noticed.
Offensive: Can use lances, flails,

swords, axes, great axes, halberds
etc. in any combination. However
such is their prestige they might also
have additional mutations and
weapons. Lore examples include the
ability to breathe fire, the ability to
power a strike with such dark energy
that they can shatter a stone wall, or
a daemonsword/ one that is eternally on fire.
Lore wise every Tzeentchi Lord doubles as a sorcerer, who are discussed below. Chaos Lords are likely
to have reaction times even superior to Elves and of course super strength.
Defensive: Chaos Armor and sometimes shields, along with superhuman durability. In addition to what
the Exalted hero might have they can choose to take more advanced magical weapons with one
example being the collar of Khorne, giving a massive degree of magic resistance .Another is the Pendant
of Slaanesh which instills the user with euphoric energy, making them insanely brave and attack much
faster, but also covetous, jealous, and inherently distrustful of allies (well more so then usual)
Can ride any mount of Chaos, barring Chaos Dwarf stuff, but including manticores and chaos dragons.
They have blessings or marks of specific gods and are the most likely to be changed into a Daemon
Prince.
Consider that the Chaos Warriors are the uncommon members of the Marauders who ascend to
becoming a living embodiment of war dedicated to nothing but Chaos. The best of the Chaos Warriors
become Chosen, small squads of elite warriors capable of breaking up lines through skill. The very best
of those become Exalted Heroes, warriors that have legends associated with their name. And then a few
of those become Chaos and Chaos Sorceror Lords. In the Legend of Sigmar, there were roughly 12
warlords for ten thousand Northmen, though this ratio would vary quite a bit.
Mobility: 4
Max & Effective Range: Spell ranges
Chaos Sorcerers is a catch all phrase that

defines the magic users of the Warriors of Chaos with roughly two separate groupings within. The first
of which refers to those basic members of tribes said to have been blessed by the gods. These might
include oracles, shaman, medicine men or, for their Empire equivalent, cult leaders and witches.
Alternately they might be thrall sorcerers of a main Chaos champion (see below) .They are pretty rare
and less effective on the battlefield than the second type, very likely knowing only a few battlefield
applicable spells and weak ones at that.
By far the most common patron of sorcerer is of Tzeentch, who happily lets any join his ranks. However
his mark, favor and greater magical ability must be earned, and thus those that align him often compete
as a thrall-sorcerer for a while. These thralls plot and scheme against each other as much as the
enemy, for only one of each group will rise to become a true Chaos Sorcerer. Or such is the promise if
not the reality. More often than not the top-tier of sorcerers will not let any threaten their power easily
and scheme to foil an ascendant. In an extreme example in the End Times the Chaos sorcerer Villitch
created a chaos cabal so large that it is said to rival an Imperial College of Magic however through his
misuse of apprentices the number quickly whittled down to seven over one siege.
The second architype is that of the most skilled champions of the Warhammer world, those that had
traveled the world seeking magical items and boons. These might have been personally taught by
daemons, blessed an obscene amount by magical gifts from the gods or even might be rogue wizards
from the civilized lands, with the most infamous example being the renegade Light Wizard Van
Horstmann. This architype is even rarer than the first.
These wizards are exceptionally powerful, rivaling and sometimes even surpassing the Chaos Lords. With
but a gesture they can unleash devastating spells annihilating dozens of men, empowering allies, or
causing other more exotic effects. In comparison to the wizards of the Empire a Chaos Sorcerer is
generally considered to be more powerful.
However ultimately they are but pawns to magic, not in control of it. Many of them sold their souls long
ago in exchange for greater mastery of the Winds, continually doing so until they now have little left.
They are just one small step away from utter damnation, their souls playthings for daemons
forevermore. This is the price for greater power that they must pay.
It should be noted that while all magic users in Warhammer are rare Chaos, overall, probably has more
magic users than any other faction. This is due to the fact they have so many sources through which
they can acquire more sorcerors. Some have been discussed, such as native, homegrown shaman or
medicine men. Others are corrupted from other factions (though usually human), where untrained and
ignornant hedge wizards, medicine women, or other magic users not caught by Colleges of Magic, Witch
Hunters or anti-Chaos authority end up slowly being corrupted by Chaos by accidentally drawing upon
Chaotic magic or calling upon daemonic entities . Ignorance is no defense against Chaos, at least not
here. Though training and foreknowledge is a good defense against Chaos it should be noted that
sometimes Imperial Battle Wizards, Kislevite Ice Shaman , Daemsels etc are caught up by the lure of
Chaos and end up being corrupted, with Light Order leader Van Horstmann being the greatest example.
Of course there are other means to acquire magical talent in Warhammer, even if the individual has
not actually been born with magical talent. A cultist might learn it from a magus or a supplicant might
make a deal with a daemonic entity whereupon they might be gifted with magical talent in exchange for
service or sacrifice. The Gods of Chaos themselves might reward magical talent to a servant they feel is
worthy enough. In theory humans are malleable enough that any can learn how to use magic however
to learn to use it safely and successfully is a different matter.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Can wield swords, axes and the like, as well as any mutation/weapon found in the Exalted
Hero profile. They can choose to utilize some spells from the Lore of Fire, Death, Metal, or Shadow,
though in truth these are the most common
supplementary lores and
you can find more rarer
examples using other
magical lores as well. In
addition those aligned to
the respective god can
use spells from the Lore
of Tzeentch, Slaanesh, or
Nurgle. The majority are
level 1 or 2 wizards but
extremely powerful 3s
and 4s exist.
Defensive: Chaos Armor

and whatever the Chaos
Lord/Exalted Hero can
use mutation wise.
They can use any mount in the mount section except the manticore, Chaos Dwarf stuff and the Dragon
(though Van Horstmann provides us with an exception to that rule).
Power Chart: Tribal Shaman/oracle/hedge wizard/daemonoligst < Greater Shaman/Thrall Sorcerer/Cult

Magus <Chaos Sorcerer < Chaos Sorcerer Lord
This page is a listing of those elite mounts available to the armies of Chaos that dont have
individual unit profiles. For example those like the Tuskagor or Razorgor shall be described in their
accompanying chariot profiles . In general the units here can be considered rare, limited either to
Storm of Magic summons or as mounts to the Lords of the Legions of Chaos. In addition to those
seen here, a few Chaos Lords might ride Skullcrushers, Steeds of Slaanesh or Chaos Dragons
described in their own profiles.
Known as the Steeds of Chaos, or sometimes Steeds of the Gods these are massive horse-like
chargers with steel fangs, burning eyes, sharp horns, bony plates, and an evil attitude. No mortal
horse are these, but rather daemons in horse form, sent to the mortal realm to serve a
particularly powerful warrior.
Their appearance can vary heavily upon which god sent them. Those of Khorne are brutal bear-like
beasts with claws that can disembowel in one blow, while Slaaneshs are more serphentine
and agile. Pestilence comes from the breath of those of Nurgle, while Tzeentchs, barring usual
randomness, are described as sickly beasts with surprisingly great strength.
Discs of Tzeentch are screamers (see said profile) bound and transmuted into an easily mountable
form. In accordance with Tzeentchs traits they are often refashioned into a thousand different
combinations, including those discs with a hundred eyes, made of living metal etc. However all of
these discs are capable of flying via riding the currents of the Winds of Magic. Serving as
mounts for mortal Tzeentch Chaos sorcerers or daemonic servants, these discs are capable of
defending themselves with magical fire, lashing tentacles , a lamprey-like mouth or rending
claws.
In but a few moments the clear blue of the winter sky darkened. Menacing black clouds blotted out
the rid of the dawn sun and the sound of thunder trembled through the hearts of the Kislevites. A great
blast of forked lightning struck the highest tower of the fort, and silhouetted against the brief flash of
light descended a figure of dread. The being wore long flowing robes, topped with a great horned
helm. In one hand it held a huge shield adorned with a sorcerous image, in the other a sharp pointed
lance engraved with fiery glowing runes. It was mounted on a large disc that shimmered with
colourful magical energy. At the sight of this being's foreboding arrival the fleeing Dolgans turned,
raising their weapons high. All around the camp one name was being chanted, in the harsh accent of
the barbaric invaders.
"Zharkol, Zharkol." They called as one, fresh courage [lowing through their veins. With renewed
strength they turned to face their attackers.
The figure on the disc glided towards the heart of the battle, bolts of scarlet lightning shooting from
his fingertips. As each bolt struck the mounted lancers, the warriors were engulfed in a red inferno, the
intensity of the unnatural fire fuelled by the souls of the victims. When the flames burned out, only the
blackened armour and bones remained. The disc and its rider soared through the heart of the combat,
the great blades surrounding the disc slicing through armour as though it were paper, ripping apart
flesh and bone.
A cannon shot from the lead wagon landed yards short of the flying disc, the explosion of rock and soil
unbalancing the Sorcerer for a moment. He regained his footing and now directed the disc towards
this new target. Zharkol turned all of his attention towards this threat. The Champion of Tzeentch
chanted a dark spell No sooner had the last word passed his bps than a let of
blue energy issued from the tip of his lance. The magical force smashed into
the war wagon immersing the armoured vehicle in a ball of bright blue fire.
The tightly packed crew screamed as flesh melted from their bones, which in
turn shattered into a thousand shards.
Palanquins of Nurgle are ornate thrones with decaying cushions that are
carried by hordes of Nurglings into battle. Though much slower than
other mounts (about as fast as a man), these creatures offer increased
status for Nurgles followers as they show Nurgles favor. In addition the
mount itself is hardly defenseless, being surrounded by angry buzzing flies
and any melee attackers that try to attack the champion are often dragged
to the dirt by the Nurglings and torn apart. Also the trail of waste such
a mount leaves is poisonous to those that follow in its wake.
A manticore is an extremely vicious and rare beast, over fifteen feet in length, found in the Chaos
Wastes that is so hostile that even Chaos Lords, the only ones who can ride this creature, have
trouble doing so- and this is after magical binding and ritual. So aggressive is it that it will throw
itself blindly against whatever encroaches upon its territory, even if the offender is a massive and
much more formidable Emperor Dragon! Surprisingly the winner, except in cases of perhaps the
most formidable dragons, is usually the manticore.
In battle Manticores attack with rage beyond any mortal capacity, being all akin to the rage-
possessed of 28 days later (without the ability to spread the virus) . It can attack with a long, lash-
like and venomous tail, rending claws and powerful fangs. Its skin, hard as steel, shows how
difficult this beast can be to kill. However if its rider (or someone who is controlling it via Scrolls of
Binding) is killed then it will revert entirely to a frenzied state, attacking both sides with equal
fury!
The Tauruses have become a holy symbol among the Chaos Dwarves, for that is what form they
view their god takes. These are truly vicious
creatures, the terrors of the Dark Lands. In form no
two Taurus are ever quite alike, and the mightiest of
them are truly massive beasts that never die except
by violence,
named as
Bale Taurus
in dark
legend. All
bear the
overall
semblance
of a huge,
winged,
daemonic
bull whose
flesh burns
with the
intensity of a
living
furnace sufficient to wreath it in smoke and spark
the ground afire beneath its hooves and against
which arrow and blade alike perishes to cinders and
ruin.
None but the highest servants of Hashut and the most powerful of fire-wizards can hope to
master these hellish monsters, and the infernal stables of the crimson and bronze Taurus
beneath the great temple of Zharr-Naggrund are heated by sacrificial fires kept burning night and
day to appease the sacred beasts kept there. Indeed, it is only by means of the most complex and
dangerous spells that a Chaos Dwarf Sorcerer can even mount such a dangerous creature
without themselves succumbing to their incinerating heat and voracious appetites.
Powerful Chaos Dwarfs ride Great Tauruses into battle, the creature burns with a terrific intensity,
so that its whole body is wreathed in fire and smoke. When it moves across the ground sparks fly
From its hooves and lightning plays about its feet. It breathes fire in great snorting bursts and black
smoke curls from its gaping maw. The Chaos Dwarfs believe that the Great Tauruses were once
Chaos Dwarfs, and that they were mutated by the warping power of Chaos into living bull-furnaces
like the statue of the god Hashut himself. For that reason The Chaos Dwarfs sometimes call the
Great Tauruses the Red Bulls of Hashut.
In combat the Great Taurus utilizes its own flame breath, hooves, and burning body that
immolates any that stray too close. It cannot be hurt by fire at all, and indeed if a fire spell hits it
the Great Taurus will use that energy to heal. The Bale Taurus might have the flame breathe,
hooves, a powerful eviscerating tail, or ossified
skin as hard as plate armor. Both can fly. Though
usually ridden by the Chaos Dwarf lord, rarely they
might be sent in at the bound command of Dawi
Zharr sorcerers.
The Lammasu has the body of a gigantic bull, a

powerful mace-tipped tail, borne on vast leathery
wings, with lion-like claws instead of hooves and the
face of a huge Chaos Dwarf, cloaked in smoke and
shadow. The Chaos Dwarfs believe that the
Lammasu is a rare mutation of the Great Taurus, a
creature whose forebears were once Chaos Dwarfs,
but which has become twisted by the powers of
Chaos into a huge bull-shaped monster. The
Lammasu's ancestry is evident in its tusked head, its
thickly curled beard, and its considerable intelligence. It is a creature with magical properties. It
breathes not ordinary air but the power of magic itself, drawing into itself the power of the winds of
magic. As it exhales the creature breathes out whirling clouds of black sorcery which wreathe
themselves around the Lammasu, enwrapping it with protective power.
The Lammasu is a wise and crafty beast that makes its lair in the Dark Lands. The Chaos Dwarfs
believe it to be a rare mutation of Great Taurus, one
that is not only acclimated to magic, but that also lives
and breathes the very stuff of sorcery. Indeed, the
Lammasu possesses a minor, but potent, spellcasting
ability, the backwash of which manifests as sorcerous
black clouds that curl about the beast every time it
breathes. This magical exhalation protects the
Lammasu from hostile spells. Furthermore, enemies
fighting Lammasu in melee often find the smoky
threads of sorcery befouling their magic weapons,
dampening, their power and preventing them from
striking the beast to full effect.
--Great description from Storm of Magic
As the description noted this creature is nearly

entirely immune to enemy spells and is a minor
spellcaster in its own right, able to use some spells
from the Lore of Fire, Death and Shadow. In close
combat it can breathe pure deadly magic and attack
with hooves, horns and even sometimes a spiked tail. These are the exceptionally rare
creatures, and only the greatest of the great Chaos Dwarf Lords will ride one.
Mobility: 6
The throne was nothing less than an exultation of

war in its purest and most depraved sense. It cared
nothing for honor, glory or even the righteousness of a
well-earned vengeance.'
The Blood Throne was designed and made in a pale

imitation of the Blood Gods own throne however
was it includes some mobility. Its a daemon-machine,
a living sentient organism that like the skull cannon,
longs to kill as much as its herald rider. Strategy and
tactics neither cares anything for, only the acquisition
of blood and skulls.
When battle is sighted and a particularly audacious foe

is found the Herald will beckon his Throne forward.
While Khorne does not care from whence the blood
flows, individual skulls are not all created equal, and a
champions will be worth far more than a grunts. As the Throne moves forward acrid soul-smoke
bellows from its exhaust, gears clank and the daemon engine roars. If the Herald stands high
enough in Khornes favor to have a loci of the Blood Gods power then all followers of Khorne
around the chariot are infused with the bloodgods unbridled wrath, increasing their fury and
ferocity.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: The Blood Throne is a sentient machine that can crush and eat foes. The Herald wields
whatever he wields from that section while the Bloodletter crew uses hellbaldes.
Furthermore the Totem of Endless Bloodletting that can sometimes be seen on these creations
drastically increases the effect radius of the Heralds loci to all units within 25 meters.
Defensive: The Blood Throne is a powerful and durable brass construction that can regenerate
whenever it eats foes.
Mobility: 6-8
Max Range: Spells, unless Khorne Daemon Prince
Preferred Range: Whatever their preference,

depending on god/patron
The Daemon Prince is the pinnacle of what a

Chaos Warrior can achieve. Those that gain this
esteemed position gain true immortality and a
place at their gods side. For the rest of eternity
these daemons can be expected to lead their
patrons armies to corrupt, pollute and destroy all
of existence.
Fortunately for enemies of Chaos for every

Daemon Prince who succeeds, countless
thousands fail. It requires feats of which are
nearly impossible for mortals such as with Valkia
and Tamurkhan. Valkia had to fight up to Khornes
throne himself after years of slaughter, while
Tamurkhan was assigned to destroy a very
powerful Empire city and failed in the task.
Belakor, the first Daemon Prince, may have
unleashed Chaos onto the world in order to get
this position! Its feats like these that assign
someone the esteemed title of daemon prince.
In combat these Daemon Princes are powerhouses in
melee and spell craft, easily requiring massive
firepower, powerful heroes, or many legions to
destroy. They have numerous mutations, magical
weaponry and can match the greatest sorcerers in
magic. Interestingly enough many Daemon Princes
continue to long for more, to continually gain in
power until they become gods themselves! So far
none have succeeded, for to rise in power in the
Realm of Chaos is simply to bind yourself more to it
and increasingly share in eternal damnation.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Can use any attribute or weapon from the

Exalted Hero, Chaos Lord, or Sorcerer profile. Some
of them regularly fight on the immaterium and can
use a weapon corresponding to that of a Greater
Daemon (so a Daemon Prince of Nurgle can use a
special weapon from a Great Unclean Ones list) or a
Daemonic Gift. Daemon Princes of Khorne have additional strength, while those of Slaanesh can
penetrate armor better. However all are going to have reflexes so fast that even Elves have difficulty
even reacting to them as well as super strength and skill.
Defensive: They are Daemons, meaning they already have some magical shielding to be overpowered
first. And on top of that some wear Chaos Armor. Daemon Princes of Nurgle are surrounded by plague
flies that make them difficult to target, while Daemon Princes of Tzeentch can somewhat reverse the
strands of fate to avoid attacks.
Daemon Princes are exceptionally rare and even in the End Times only a handful really appears in one
region at a given time. Some Daemon Princes can fly, having bat like, birdlike or the traditional fiery
wings one associates with a Daemon.
Natassja had grown. The last elements of her humanity had been shed, and she now towered ten feet
above a mortal span. Her flesh was as black as jet, tinged with a faint outline of blue fire. Her eyes, still
pupil-less, blazed an icy sapphire.
Her human raiment was gone. Her flesh was clad in shifting strips of blackened silk, rippling around her
and curling over the onyx skin. Her hair raged around her face like a furnace, caught up in the throbbing
bloodfire as it whipped across her naked shoulders. The tattoos that had scored her skin for so long were
gone, replaced by a single burning mark of Slaanesh at her breast.
Though still achingly beautiful, her features had already been twisted with mutation. Her feet were gone,
replaced with cloven hooves. Her fingers ended in talons such as her handmaidens wore. They were
sheer points of ebony, slender and curved. She moved impossibly quickly, as if there were no
intermediate stage between her being in one location and at the next. Even when her mouth moved to
speak, the pattern of her lips was eerie and unsettling. A long, lizard-like tongue flickered between
glittering fangs.
Natassja now resembled the daemons that had served her, though it was she who was the greater and
more steeped in corruption. For Natassja was no true-born denizen of the aethyr, but that most terrible
and despised of creations, a daemon prince, a mortal ascended to the level of a demigod. She had
exchanged a finite soul for an infinity of damnation, and the terms of the bargain were daunting. Her
power was near-limitless, her invulnerability near-complete, her malice absolute. In exchange for that,
thousands had died in terror.
Mortal weapons now had no purchase on her, death little meaning. The world of the five senses, so long
her prison, was now fleshed out with a thousand shades of emotion. Her eyes were no longer bound by
the trammels of matter but by the possibilities of a profound and piercing sentience. Where a mortal saw
appearances, she saw realities, stretching away over a whole range of future states towards an
impossible horizon. Men appeared before her as burning souls wrapped in a frail gauze, ready to be
plucked out and consumed as a lesser being might select sweetmeats from a tray.- Sword of Vengeance
Heralds are minor Daemons who are either

created or have risen among the ranks to
possess a position of authority among a
given daemonic legion. This is relatively rare,
as Daemons are so cut-throat in their power
struggles that its hard for anyone to achieve
anything for long.
Mobility: 5
Training/Experience: Various

Heralds of Khorne are bloodletters so driven insane by the bloodletting that they put even other
bloodletters to shame. They will keep hacking and slashing a target until nothing is left but a pile of gore.
So wrathful are they that they have begun creating small auras of rage and bloodlust. This can range
from everyone in the unit getting magic resistance to everything but the most powerful spells, the
collective fury of the unit magnifying prowess or personal wrath making them more durable.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: see Bloodletters, may have a couple daemonic gifts though minor in potency.
Defensive: See Bloodletters, may have a couple daemonic gifts
Sometimes the Herald will come into battle riding a Juggernaut or a Blood Throne
Mobility: 4
Max & Effective Range: Spell
As the magically fashioned slaves of Tzeentch,

Horrors are considered automatons to be expended
as part of a carefully wrought plan. Should a servant
of greater power be required, Tzeentch will create a
Herald, a more stable type of Horror. Heralds are
often the same lurid hue as Pink Horrors, but do not
morph into a pair of Blue Horrors when struck. Such
Daemons have enough consciousness to direct
others of their kind without constant guidance from
a Lord of Change, directing furious sorcery against
Tzeentchs enemies. The mere presence of a Herald
of Tzeentch drastically increases the abilities of
nearby Daemons, mutating them into new and
stronger forms and empowering their magic.-
Daemon Codex
A Tzeentch herald might come with the Loci of Transmogrification, which causes slain Pink Horrors to
spawn up to 4 blue horrors instead of two for the unit the Herald is in, Greater Locus of Change which
has the chance to make everyone in the unit get drastically increased strength (or sometimes weaker),
or the Exalted Locus off Conjuration which makes it easier for nearby sorcerors to cast their spells.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Might have minor magical weapons. Also is a minor wizard who might know a full-fledged
spell or two from the Lore of Metal or Tzeentch.
Defensive: See Horror, may have a couple daemonic gifts
Sometimes the Herald will come into battle riding a Disc or Burning Chariot.
Mobility: 4
Though they share many loathsome features, Plaguebearers

are by no means identical in appearance and ability, for
Nurgles Rot is somewhat variable in its virulence and
incubation. The longer a victim can endure against Nurgles
Rot, the greater in the Plague lords sight the resulting
Daemon shall be. From the souls of such hardy individuals
are shaped the repulsive Heralds of Nurgle who march in the
daemonic legions as proof positive that even the strongest and ablest cannot indefinitely defy disease.
Heralds of Nurgle possess a strength and hardiness that belies their rotten frames, as well as a jovial
nature somewhat at odds with the world-weary aspect of their droning minions.
Heralds of Nurgle can possess one of the following Loci, all of which apply only to their unit: Lesser Loci
of Virulence which increases the potency of their poisoned attack, Greater Focus of Fecundity that
gives this unit minor regeneration or Exalted Loci of Contagion that allows them to more rapidly and
powerfully infect others.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Plaguesword and a few daemonic gifts maybe. They may also be level 1 mages with access to
lores of Nurgle or Death.
Defensive: Really just innate durability, maybe some blinding rot flies and a daemon gift.
Sometimes the Herald will be mounted on a Palanquin of Nurgle.
Mobility: 5.5
Heralds of Slaanesh not only attend to Slaaneshs whimsical desires,

but muster his armies, plot his campaigns (Slaanesh is easily bored by
the minutiae of war) and carry his creed to the mortal realm, returning
to bring morsels of courtly intrigue to Slaaneshs ears. Such scraps can
lead to the corrupting of a mortal ruler and the Dark Prince is always
carefully attentive.
At other times, the Heralds carry their masters word to specific

followers singled out for divine notice. Not all such visitations are
welcomed by those who receive them, for
Slaanesh is nothing if not effusive in his tempers, but the coming of Herald of Slaanesh has nevertheless
become an omen of great import.
While on the battlefield these heralds can have one of several loci that apply to their attached unit. The
Locus of Grace means they arent inhibited by dangerous terrain or stuff that tries to slow them down.
Greater Locus of Swiftness allows the Daemonettes and Herald to strike faster. Exalted Locus of
Beguilement attacks the willpower of those fighting this unit and reduces enemy response time of those
who cant fight it off.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Claws and a few daemonic gifts maybe. May also be level 1 mages with access to the Lores of
Slaanesh or Shadow.
Defensive: see Daemonettes, mostly just relies on swiftness and maybe a daemonic gift.
Sometimes a Herald of Slaanesh will come into battle on a Steed of Slaanesh, a Seeker Chariot, or even
an Exalted Seeker Chariot
A Greater Daemon is the highest pinnacle that a daemon can aspire to, the most self-aware of them all.
Their roles are many and can vary upon what their gods want them to be, such as, for example,
generals, assassins, lore keepers, playthings etc. Each and every greater daemon has assumed several
of these roles during their long existence. All Greater Daemons are terrifying to perceive , as their image
is altered by the worst fears of mortals.
It can be said that all greater daemons have a certain commonality of traits, yet within that commonality
are nuances. For example while all Bloodthirsters are defined by their rage and need to spill blood, an
individual Bloodthirster might have a code of honor, employ great martial skill, or be a complete
unthinking beast. All Lords of Change are secretive and manipulative, yet on the outside they can be
spiteful, jovial, an adept warrior or cunning tactician.
Occasionally, very occasionally, a Greater Daemon might try to have its own little rebellion from its
parents. However this act of rebellion is always done in a manner utilizing the great attributes of their
fathers. For example a Bloodthirster attacking another army of Khorne invariably spills much blood,
while a scheming Lord of Change inflicts great mutation through such schemes. In such a way Greater
Daemons always ends up furthering the cause of their parents, and thus these revolts are tolerated.
Durability: Greater Daemons are the best and rarest of what the Chaos Gods have to offer, with usually
only a handful per campaign. They almost always require potent magical weapons, spell craft or
sustained artillery fire to down, or else death by a thousand cuts. For example in Lord Mortkins
campaign his Bloodthirster was destroyed after an Empire halberdier whole regiment hacked into it,
though it killed most of said regiment in turn. In Marks of Chaos it took a hero with a hammer as well as
his men to bring a Great Unclean One down.
Only the great unclean one remained, its power too great for the death of the magister, Gruber, to
affect it. It was surrounded by the army of Ostermark, and hundreds of arrows and crossbow bolts
thudded into its thick flesh. It roared in anger and pain as countless handgun shots pierced its skin.
Dozens of men rushed forwards, driving their halberds into the creature's belly and back, but it fought
on, smashing away its enemies as if they were insects, killing a handful of men with every sweep of its
fell weapon.
It stumbled as the flagellants rushed forwards, screaming and yelling, and struck at the greater
daemon's flesh with their spiked flails. The nameless ex-knight was there, exhorting his followers to do
their duties, and he leapt upon the great unclean one, hacking at it with a pair of spiked maces. The
daemon's flesh was torn to bloody shreds under the onslaught, and it sank to the ground. Its mouthed
tongue lashed out, latching onto one of its tormentors, ripping his face from his skull. Bellowing in rage,
the daemon surged back upright for a moment, and swept its weapon before it once more, the poisoned
blade cutting three flagellants in half.
It slumped to the ground as Gunthar stepped before it, his huge hammer raised high over his head. With
a bellow, he smashed it into the daemon's head, the blow driving through the skull and into the rotting,
maggot-infested brain within.
A great cloud of flies suddenly rose, obscuring everything from view. They dispersed into the air, leaving
behind nothing but a bubbling pool of poison seeping into the ground.-Mark of Chaos
Mobility: 8 (can fly)
Max Range: Melee

'1 beheld a raging least, chained to that wall of bone by brazen and bloody chain. Its every bellow shock
the ground upon which 1 stood; its every utterance fulsome with the Jury of war. As the Daemons
gaze fell upon me, it demanded with looming voice that I set it free, that it might bring the glory of
bloodletting to this realm once more. Momentarily I considered the beast's demands, for an ally in that
dark realm would have been a welcome thing. But then I realized the folly of such a course; that Daemon
had no place in its black heart for loyalty to such a one as I; rage was its only master, and slaughter the
only companion it would ever acknowledge. I left that place with speed, and prayed that the chains
would Hold 'til I was long gone. -Pg. 28, Daemon codex 8e
The Bloodthirster is the pinnacle of Khornate blood and the single deadliest melee combatant among all
daemons. It is fury and bloodlust made manifest, the death bringers of Khorne. Everything about them-
from their gnarled visage, to the spikes that permeate from every part of it to the sentient bloodthirsty
armor- screams the desire to kill and main. Within the Bloodthirsters raging mind there is no thought,
no deliberation, no appreciation of intrigue or manipulation it thinks only of the hunt, of the blood to
be spilt in Khornes name and the skulls to be gathered for the Blood Gods mighty throne. These are
the embodiment of the bloodiest aspects of war, of war given absolute form.
Thus is the Bloodthirster the most relentless and single-minded of all Daemons. Others will sometimes
retire from battle if overmatched, to husband strength and bring more insidious talents into play, but not
so a Bloodthirster. Should a Greater Daemon of Khorne find itself outnumbered, surrounded, mortally
wounded or even beset by a hero empowered with divine might, it does not stop fighting. Such is the
nature of a Bloodthirster: it does not retreat, does not falter, but roars fresh defiance with every blow,
swinging its axe with ever more bloodlust and cleaving fresh skulls for
Khorne with each unstoppable strike.
--Daemon Codex 8e
Such is the power of the Bloodthirster that the idea of a mortal killing them is nearly inconceivable, and
perilously few have achieved such a feat by themselves. Those that do are usually extremely famous
fighters by themselves (like Gotrek) and sometimes so impressed is Khorne by the spectacle that he
automatically makes the mortal a daemon prince , whisking him away upon the moment of victory to do
so. If defeated by an army it is usually through massive application of ranged firepower or through
many blows gained throughout the battle. Bloodthirsters don't care at all for strategy or battle plans
and live for only the slaughter. Yet it would be a mistake to confuse them for idiots. Bloodthirsters have
an innate knowledge of what draws men to fight and kill, of how to achieve the kill and where to reap
the most of it. To them that are all they need to know.
Bloodthirsters are the mightiest and most wrathful of all of Khornes daemons, embodiments of hate
and rage made manifest. Standing several times the height of a man with every patch of skin caked in
blood the Bloodthirsters very gaze has been known to invoke fear in the hearts of mortals. Living
sentient armor is directly forged onto their flesh by Khornes own hand and given a terrible, malevolent
sentience of their own.
These daemons are, in all things, echoes of their mighty master. The desire to kill
in the name of Khorne is the Bloodthirsters sole imperative, and their
overwhelming, warlike fury is unquenchable. A Bloodthirster will fight any foe, no
matter the odds, the enemy, or the stakes. Should one of these beasts find itself
with no foes to butcher, it may well turn upon its own allies in order to continue
the bloodshed. All that truly matters to the Bloodthirsters is that Khorne continues
to receive his bloody due.
Some disdain the Bloodthirsters for being crude and unimaginative. They are
fools. Bloodthirsters do not need the fancy magics of Tzeentch, plagues of Nurgle
or seductive auras of Slaanesh. Such concepts are anathema to the champions of
Khorne and when encountered all are dealt with scornfully. Most magics simply
reverberate off their armor, rage overtakes plagues and seductive auras just
anger the Bloodthirster even more. With endless rage and predatory cunning the
daemon deals with any trick, trap or ambush sent its way. There are few
challenges or tricks the Bloodthirster cannot overcome.
To most mortals all Bloodthirsters look the same. This is false. There are actually
multiple ranks of Bloodthirsters, each rank given greater gifts, prestige and
powers than the one below. That is not to say that daemons of the lowest rank are weaker than those of
higher- far from it. Daemons of the lower ranks can and sometimes do aspire to rise to a higher rank,
which they can do by challenging a member of the above rank in a spectacularly bloody contest watched
over by Khorne himself.
There are four known variants of Bloodthirster capable

of being deployed in action. Three will be discussed
below and one at the end of the Greater Daemon
presentation. All Bloodthirrsters have reaction time that
has been described as blurry and strength at least on par
with a giant.
Supremely skilled warriors all, the Bloodthirster of

Unfettered Fury is armed with the ritualistic heavy
bladed-axe and a lash. Both are extremely powerful,
with the ax said to be capable of breaking a shield wall
while the lash can be struck against something with
enough force to break a dragons wing. Every daemon of
Unfettered Fury is armed thusly, for these are the ritualistic weapons of the eighth host within the Blood
Gods legions.
The Unfettered Fury are the most numerous of the Bloodthirsters; at any time there will be eight
hundred and eighty eight of these monstrous beings in their masters service. They are often generals of
the armies, brutes who hurl their followers into a savage meat grinder without hesitation. Though
others might call this unimaginative Bloodthirsters know that Khorne cares not from where the blood
flows, so long as it flows. By creating a situation in which both sides are likely to suffer massive
causalities the Bloodthirster can elicit the most amount of favor from its master. It also serves as a way
to test the strength of those who serve Khorne, for the Bloodthirster knows that only the most
psychotic, savage, brutal and determined can survive such conditions.
This Bloodthirster has various other duties. They are used to patrol the edges of Khornes domain in the
Realm of Souls, and are often the first line of defense against any attacks. Sometimes they will be
dispatched, either alone or in the terrifying Warbands known as Skullwrath Slaughterbands(in ET
Archaon one Warband composed of fourteen such monsters), to hunt down the greatest champions of
the foe. More often than not the Bloodthirster cuts the enemy champion in to bloody chunks and takes
their head back to Khornes throne as a trophy.
Offensive: The Bloodthirster is incredibly strong, easily able to tear people into pieces and rip limbs off
giants, and this strength is translated into the power that it hits with. It also wields a magical axe in one
hand, which is magically enchanted for extra power (the one form of magic Khorne apparently doesnt
disagree with) and in the other a flaying whip. They may also carry some form of magical gift, like bonus
strength or speed.
Defense: Brass Armor and moderate level magic resistance. Sometimes they might have some form of
defense that boosts their armor or makes them even more resistant to attack.
The Bloodthirster ploughed on through the warriors of King Thangrims elite guard. Its weapons
flickered almost too fast for the eye to follow and every time one struck, a dwarf warrior fell. It seemed
like no armor could resist those hell-forged weapons. In mere moments, brave warriors were reduced to
mewling, dying piles of ragged flesh. Proud armor was rent asunder. Even as Felix watched, the
Bloodthirster smashed through a row of dwarfs with its axe, leaving only mangled corpses in its wake.
Yet the great daemon was not having things all its own way. The rune weapons of the dwarfs had bitten
its flesh in a few places. Smoking ichor dribbled onto the floor as it advanced.
Rage blazed in King Thangrims eyes. His beard bristled. He raised his hammer once more as if in answer
to the daemons challenge and cast it to smash on the daemons breast. Once more the ancient weapon
bit home. Once more daemonic blood spurted forth. Once more the hideous thing staggered then
grinned and came on with redoubled fury.
Nothing could stand in its way. It ploughed through the dwarf kings guards like a battering ram through
a rotting doorway. Felix saw that one warrior managed to ram a runic blade into its back before it was
aware of him. The blade stuck fast, protruding out from the Bloodthirsters shoulder blades before it
turned and lashed out with its whip. Felix had no idea what that infernal lash was made from but it cut
through dwarf-forged armor with ease and flayed its targets to the bone. Felix saw skin and muscle part
as if slashed with a cleaver, white bone and yellow cartilage suddenly exposed in the dim, guttering light.
The whip lashed forward again, spinning its shrieking victim like a top and tugging more flesh from his
carcass. Another dwarf strode forward and smote the daemon with a rune-etched hammer. The impact
caused the daemon some discomfort, but the swing of its axe decapitated its attacker. All the while it
kept lashing its victim. In heartbeats, a bloody, skinned carcass that was not recognizable as a dwarf lay
at its feet.
How much longer will you hide behind your warriors, little king? asked the daemon, and such was the
dreadful magic of its voice that the words were audible where Felix stood even above the clamor of
battle. The king threw his hammer once more but this time the
daemon threw down his whip and caught it with one
outstretched claw. The runes blazed along the hammers head
and where it held the weapon the daemons hand blackened but
it reversed the weapon and sent it hurtling back towards the
king.
There was a crack like thunder and the hammer flew too fast for
the eye to follow. It crashed into the dwarf king and sent him
sprawling to the ground. A groan came from the dwarf army as
they saw their leader tumble and fall. The daemon bellowed in
triumph. Insane laughter rumbled above the fray and echoed
through the hall. The host of Chaos fought on with redoubled
fury and everywhere seemed to gain the upper hand over the
dwarfs.
The Bloodthirster strode through the dismayed throng, slaying

right and left as it went. The priest of Grimnir went forth to
meet it and was disemboweled with a slash of its claw even as
his Warhammer buried itself in the daemons flesh. The old
priestess of Valaya stood before it. She raised her book as if it
were a shield. A glow leapt from the pages and for a moment
the daemon paused. Then it laughed once more and brought its
axe arcing down, cleaving through the book and the priestess
both. Her bisected form fell in two pieces to the floor and the daemon strode forward in triumph to stand
above the dying king.-Daemonslayer
Even by the standards of Khornes daemons, the Bloodthirsters of Insensate rage are unnaturally given
to wrath. Like with Hulk this wrath gives them strength, and thus in battle they can wield axes that
other Bloodthirsters would struggle to even lift, axes several times taller than a man.
There is no finesse in the fighting style of the Insensate Rage. The fires of Khornes great forge blaze
within their chests, filling their veins with a roiling
firestorm of white-hot anger. Thus, their every word is a
howled imprecation or bellowed war cry, and their every
axe-swing is a wild sweep that strikes with the force of a
meteor. A Bloodthirster of Insensate Rage can stave in a
castle door with a single blow, or lop the head from the
mightiest beast. Whole ranks of lesser warriors are
scythed down with every swing, or flung through the air
in broken, bloody ruin.
A Bloodthirster of this rank gives no thought to its own

defense- indeed the blows of lesser warriors barely
register to it! The sheer fury of these Bloodthirsters
carries them through the worst that the foe can hurl their
way. Rains of shot clang from their armor, or thud
ignored into their smouldering hides. Eldritch spell craft
billows about them with no more effect than a gentle
breeze, not halting their charge in the slightest. Once a
Bloodthirster of the sixth host has built up momentum,
lesser foes simply vanish beneath its pounding hooves,
ground to bloody paste without ever being noticed at all.
That is a key purpose behind the creature after all- to

grind a path through enemy forces that others might
follow. However they are also sent after the greatest enemy champions and monsters, the latter of
which is by the command of Khorne their main objective. It was a Bloodthirster of Insensate Rage that
finally felled the six-headed ur-giant Behemogoth, claiming every last one of that mountainous horrors
skulls for Khorne. When the mighty dragon Syllokai was finally laid low, it was beneath the axe-blows of
a Bloodthirster of the sixth host.
Offensive: A massive great weapon, usually an axe several times the size of a man. Sometimes might
have a magical weapon of similar type.
Defensive: See previous Bloodthirster. However this rank is slightly more durable than the last
Khorne dreams of whole realms drowned in
slaughter, and cares little for the fates of individual
combatants, be they worshipper or foe. However,
just as mortal champions may win Khornes
approval, so there are those whose defiance draws
the personal ire of the Blood God down upon
them. Punishing such individuals falls to the Wrath
of Khorne. Whether they are a hero who has defied
Khornes will, some brave priest who has banished
Khornes daemons, or simply one who has offended
the Blood God, the victims of these Bloodthirsters
will all meet the same doom.
Dogged and relentless, the Wrath of Khorne

Bloodthirster lives for the hunt. They are perfectly
content to hunt their quarry across all of reality if
need be or even beyond! Though a few opt to go at
it alone most are more cautious, for they know
Khornes wrath is great indeed for those that fail to
hunt his personal targets. Thus they are often
accompanied by massive Blood Hunts- roving war parties of various Khornate daemons.
As with the other hosts, the Wrath of Khorne Bloodthirsters bear distinctive armaments that mark them
out. In one hand they carry axes of prodigious size, their hafts comprised of the skulls of champions. In
the other, they wield long hammer-flails, each link forged from the armor of a slain hero. These brutal
weapons can be used to strike crushing blows against foes beyond arms reach, or entangle and choke
larger enemies such as other greater daemons or monsters.
Khorne knows that his
headsmens quarry often
resort to the use of magic in
their own defense, or else
surround themselves with
masses of expendable
underlings behind whom
they hope to hide. Thus, the
Wrath of Khorne
Bloodthirsters wear
scorched crowns upon their
brows. These baleful, rune-
etched artefacts are
powerfully warded against
sorcery, allowing their
wearer to shrug off all but
the most potent spell craft. Furthermore, these Bloodthirsters are able to channel their rage and hate
into roaring gouts of hellfire, which they belch forth from between their gaping jaws to incinerate
hordes of luckless victims.
It is the skillful and fortunate few that can evade, even defeat a Blood Hunt. In WHF lore the only
confirmed instances of failure occurred with the Emperor Magnus (with Teclis help) and Sigmar in the
End Times, though the Wrath of Khorne Bloodthirster (KaBandha) still managed to fight multiple
incarnates and even kill at least one.
OFFENSIVE: Massive Axe, Hammerflail. In addition they can breathe extremely hot hellfire.
A low-pitched rumble began somewhere deep in KaBandhas chest. It grew rapidly, and then burst
from his fanged maw as a torrent of deep and ruddy flame that washed hungrily over his opponents
torso and limbs. No ordinary fires were these. They were birthed from the dark and wrathful heat of
Khornes forge, and the guardians flesh instantly set alight wherever they touched. The vines binding
KaBandhas arms withered and shrank beneath that fury; the thick bark of the guardians skin blackened
and caught light. With a flame-etched howl of triumph, the Bloodthirster at last wrenched his arms free,
the treemans limbs exploding into charred cinder as he did so.- Fire breathing, ET Archaon
DEFENSIVE: The most potent anti-sorcery defense in Khornes arsenal, bar that of the Exalted
Bloodthirsters. They are usually covered in brass armor.
Bloodthirsters can fly and thus bring the carnage to the air.
The Bloodthirster ploughed on through the warriors of King Thangrims elite guard. Its weapons
flickered almost too fast for the eye to follow and every time one struck, a dwarf warrior fell. It seemed
like no armor could resist those hell-forged weapons. In mere moments, brave warriors were reduced to
mewling, dying piles of ragged flesh. Proud armor was rent asunder. Even as Felix watched, the
Bloodthirster smashed through a row of dwarfs with its axe, leaving only mangled corpses in its wake.
Yet the great daemon was not having things all its own way. The rune weapons of the dwarfs had bitten
its flesh in a few places. Smoking ichor dribbled onto the floor as it advanced.
Rage blazed in King Thangrims eyes. His beard bristled. He raised his hammer once more as if in answer
to the daemons challenge and cast it to smash on the daemons breast. Once more the ancient weapon
bit home. Once more daemonic blood spurted forth. Once more the hideous thing staggered then
grinned and came on with redoubled fury.
Nothing could stand in its way. It ploughed through the dwarf kings guards like a battering ram through
a rotting doorway. Felix saw that one warrior managed to ram a runic blade into its back before it was
aware of him. The blade stuck fast, protruding out from the Bloodthirsters shoulder blades before it
turned and lashed out with its whip. Felix had no idea what that infernal lash was made from but it cut
through dwarf-forged armor with ease and flayed its targets to the bone. Felix saw skin and muscle part
as if slashed with a cleaver, white bone and yellow cartilage suddenly exposed in the dim, guttering light.
The whip lashed forward again, spinning its shrieking victim like a top and tugging more flesh from his
carcass. Another dwarf strode forward and smote the daemon with a rune-etched hammer. The impact
caused the daemon some discomfort, but the swing of its axe decapitated its attacker. All the while it
kept lashing its victim. In heartbeats, a bloody, skinned carcass that was not recognizable as a dwarf lay
at its feet.
How much longer will you hide behind your warriors, little king? asked the daemon, and such was the
dreadful magic of its voice that the words were audible where Felix stood even above the clamor of
battle. The king threw his hammer once more but this time the
daemon threw down his whip and caught it with one
outstretched claw. The runes blazed along the hammers head
and where it held the weapon the daemons hand blackened but
it reversed the weapon and sent it hurtling back towards the
king.
There was a crack like thunder and the hammer flew too fast for
the eye to follow. It crashed into the dwarf king and sent him
sprawling to the ground. A groan came from the dwarf army as
they saw their leader tumble and fall. The daemon bellowed in
triumph. Insane laughter rumbled above the fray and echoed
through the hall. The host of Chaos fought on with redoubled
fury and everywhere seemed to gain the upper hand over the
dwarfs.
The Bloodthirster strode through the dismayed throng, slaying

right and left as it went. The priest of Grimnir went forth to
meet it and was disemboweled with a slash of its claw even as his Warhammer buried itself in the
daemons flesh. The old priestess of Valaya stood before it. She raised her book as if it were a shield. A
glow leapt from the pages and for a moment the daemon paused. Then it laughed once more and
brought its axe arcing down, cleaving through the book and the priestess both. Her bisected form fell in
two pieces to the floor and the daemon strode forward in triumph to stand above the dying king.-
Daemonslayer
Mobility: 8 (can fly)
Max & Effective Range: Ranged Spell craft
A Lord of Change is hideously unpredictable and manipulative. Behind its gaze lies a curious and
wreckful mind, deeply intelligent, yet as uncaring of consequence as it is fascinated by it. The Lord of
Change is like a child playing upon some gigantic anthill, poking with a stick at its inhabitants and
laughing at the hopeless antics of their defense. Nothing pleases him more than to see the world broken
and made anew, to redirect the course of a life or even history itself, spilling hope upon the ground while
raising the ambition of others up to an unexpected pinnacle of power.
Rarely are Lord of Changes consistent and they can change their form at will; however they are usually
depicted as birdlike creatures in combat and art. They are weavers of fate, able to look at a mortal and
perceive the strands behind his fate, ambitions and hopes. Yet they are also natural liars, able to
conceal truths as easily as they can reveal it to the point where even other Lords of Change have trouble
finding anything out about them. Thus a meeting of multiple Lords of Change is an incredibly confusing
affair with every question met by another and a hundred lies behind every half-truth. This deviousness is
why they are the least bothered when a mortal tries to summon and control them, for there is no
cage a Lord of Change cannot emerge from in time. Meanwhile the Lord just sits and plots, grateful to
have a new morsel to weave into them.
The Daemon lied with every heath. It could rut help itself hut to deceive and dismay, to riddle and ruin.
The more we conversed, the closer I drew to one singular ineluctable fact: I would gain no wisdom here.
The Daemon's mind was a labyrinth of deceptions. Truth was trammeled at the heart of that maze and
far beyond my meagre reach.'
In battle Lords of Change rarely march out front, but rather command and direct spells from the rear.
They are potent wizards indeed, able to use spells from the Lore of Tzeentch or Metal with expert
clarity. However sometimes a Lord of Change might not appear on the battlefield at all and instead
with manipulate fate from afar, using mystical means to better direct his forces and control the ebb of
fighting. The Lord of Change is like a child playing upon some gigantic anthill, poking with a stick at its
inhabitants and laughing at the hopeless antics of their defence. Nothing pleases him more than to see
the world broken and made anew, to redirect the course of a life or even history itself, spilling hope
upon the ground while raising the ambition of others up to an unexpected pinnacle of power. Though
fate is fickle even for those who try and command dominion of it, they are as already stated master
manipulators.
Note the size shown here

is probably correct
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: The Lord of

Change is a master
(usually level 4) spell
caster able to use both
the Lore of Metal and
Tzeentch. At close range it
usually wields a staff but
is also surprisingly strong,
able to rip through armor with its claws. May carry gifts from the daemonic gifts section.
Defensive: Its skin is apparently rather hard and it can manipulate/see fate to try and avoid it. However
the Lord of Change is probably the easiest of the Greater Daemons to hurt (if it can be caught!).
The Lord of Change can fly. It is also, by its nature, a brilliant tactician and sub-commander, scheming
with soldiers as it would normally. These schemes admittedly are often to the detriment of its so-called
allies.
Mobility: 5 (surprisingly)
Max& Effective Range: Ranged Spell craft
Preferred Range: Wherever he can best spread his gifts!
'Until I haled close, I thought his shin was roiling and writhing. Then I saw dozens of tiny Daemons
burrowing through his flesh, gnawing on his hones and sulking upon his vile secretions. All this horror
was belied by the beasts cultured voice, which welcomed me as a long-lost son even as I fell retching to
my knees.
A Great Unclean One is invariably a gigantic figure bloated with decay, disease and all imaginable kinds
of physical corruption. The Daemons skin is a necrose and leathery surface covered with pockmarks,
sores and other signs of loathsome infestation. His inner organs, rank with decay, spill through the
ruptured skin and hang like rotting drapes about an immense girth. From these organs burst tiny
pustulant creatures called Nurglings, which chew and suck upon the nauseous juices within. Such
foulness echoes the fundamental truth of the universe: whilst there is life, there will be ruin and decay,
even unto the end of all things. Daemon codex 8e
Despite its appearance the Great Unclean One is not morbid or grim- far from it! There is probably not a
single daemon as happy and joyful as he! They are so sentimental and seemingly kind towards the
daemons they command that they refer to them as my children. It appears that a Unclean One has
genuine pride when those nurglites he commands wreak havoc and spread disease, and is moved to
wrath if they are attacked. They attack their enemies with ebullient and cynical commentary, trying to
break their confidence and resolve while simultaneously praising their followers. Should adjective-laden
oratory fail this mighty creature will instead be moved to fight.
Indeed it is said that Great Unclean Ones are the embodiment of every self-destructive physical or
emotional defense mortals use to justify their misery. Like all things with Nurgle their jovial outward
appearance belies a sinister inward nature.
When roused to battle, a Great Unclean One is a truly horrifying entity. He bellows ribald joy across the
battlefield in stentorian tones, brimming with the jollity of one fulfilling divine commandment, and
pauses only to unleash his formidable sorceries against targets ripe for Nurgles blessings. Made
ponderous by his colossal bulk, a Great Unclean One is slow to advance upon the enemy, but is all but
unstoppable once he has reached his target. Any foe foolish enough to stray into his path swiftly
discovers the immense strength concealed by the Greater Daemons corpulent form. Whether a Plague
Lord batters his enemy with an iron sword dripping with virulent fluid or a plague-ridden flail matters
little, for the result is the same an indescribable mess of blood and bone, already teeming with Nurgles
choicest festering pestilences
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: The Great Unclean One is usually a level 3 or 4 sorcerer who can use spells from the Lore of
Nurgle or of Death. It can use more mundane swords or magical weapons for melee however no matter
what he chooses the weapon is always poisoned. Also is so massive and fat that it can easily crush most
of what it fights. May carry gifts from the daemonic gifts section.
Ropes of mucus drooled from the bloated lords mouth. Its teeth were blackened nubs, rotting in the
gum. Its breath was beyond foul, and rose from its maw in a noisome gas the dwarfs fought hard to
ignore. Worst of all was the daemons laughter. A hideous chuckle burbled from its lips, echoed
mockingly by the crows perched upon its shoulders and fluttering around its corpse-like body. Alkhor was
laughing when its jaw distended to impossibly wide proportions and it unleashed a stream of filth.
Snorri brandished his hammer and a shield of lightning sprang up to protect the king and his charges.
The deluge seemed unending, a veritable torrent of puke and acidic bile from the very pit of the
daemons stomach. It spat and crackled like cooking fat against the runic shield, burning to smoke and
sulphurous vapor that clung to armor, skin and hair. Merciful Valaya was by Snorris side, as the foul slop
ceased at last and the High King was left alive and miraculously unharmed.
The hearth guards fighting either side of the throne were not so fortunate. Dwarfs died in their droves,
their armor melted, skin and bone rendered down to nothing, sloughed away by the disgusting miasma.
Above the fading screams the stentorian tones of Haglarr Grudgekeeper, he who had served the High
King for centuries, could be heard recording each and every name and the reckoning that would follow.-
Great Betrayal
Defensive: The Great Unclean One, thanks to its bloated nature, is probably the most massive Greater
Daemon there is, bigger than the others by at least 2-3 times. May carry gifts from the daemonic gifts
section. Needless to say it can absorb a lot of damage.
The Reiksguard were everywhere by then, riding their steeds under the very shadow of the daemons
claws and hacking with their longswords. The creature throttled out another echoing roar of pain, and
flailed around more violently. Its cleaver caught two Reiksguard in a single swipe, dragging them from
the saddle. Its balled fist punched out, crushing the helm of another as he angled his lance for the cut.
The clouds of flies buzzed angrily, swarming around the beleaguered daemon and rearing up like snakes
heads. They flew into visors and gorgets, clotting and clogging, forcing knights to pull away from the
attack. Maggots as long as a mans forearm wriggled out of the liquidized earth, and clamped needle-
teeth to the horses fetlocks. Swarms of tiny daemon-kin with jaws as big as their pulpy bodies spun out
from the greater creatures armpits as it thrashed around, clamping their incisors onto anything they
landed on and gnawing deep.
The Reiksguard fought on through the hail of horrors, casting aside the lesser creatures in order to strike
at the greater abomination beyond, but the creature before them was no mere tallyman or plaguebearer
it was the greatest of its dread breed, and the swords of mortal men held little terror for it. Its vast
cleaver whirled around metronomically, slicing through plate armor like age-rotten parchment. Helborg
saw three more of his men carved apart in a single swipe, their priceless battle-plate smashed apart in
seconds.- The Fall of Altdorf
The Great Unclean One can spawn Nurglings from its body as it moves, which hatch from pustules on
the Greater Daemons body.. Also whereas other daemons are embodiments of specific aspects of the
gods it is said the Great Unclean One is almost a carbon copy of Nurgle in terms of personality, drives
and thoughts. As the embodiment of corruption, the very land in the Great Unclean Ones immediate
vicinity will rapidly decay and die.
Mobility: 8 (as agile and fast as a daemon can get on the ground)
It granted me all I desired; but took from me all that I valued.
I would give anything to look upon its beauty once again .'
A Keeper of Secrets longs to spoil purity, instill damnation, destroy faith and solicit excess, often driving
those it corrupts to new heights just to invoke sensation. It is the embodiment of every fetish and
perversion; of selfish lust and violent jealousy; of dark dirty pleasure and the abuse of trust; of extreme
domination and sadism. Fear and lust are what it prizes the most; however any extreme mortal
sensation will do. They can raise a mortal up to the highest heights of pride, as done with Sigvald, or
drown him in the greatest depths of despair.
No two Keepers of Secrets are exactly the same, as they are formed by whatever whim Slaanesh had at
the time. Some may look bovine, others like crab-people and maybe a few are actually beautiful in our
standards without using supernatural magic. However all are powerful combatants mortals would
dread to fear.
A Keeper of Secrets is a terrifying foe to face, delighting in exquisite pain, the caress of claw through
skin and muscle, bone and organ. Its enormous razor-edged claws can tear apart a heavily-armored
knight with one graceful slash while its hands can crush bone with horrifying ease. No other Daemon can
match a Keepers fluid grace in battle. Its actions are a ballet of exquisitely performed blows. Every strike
by claw or blade is bestowed with almost delicate precision; a sensuous caress becomes a rib-crushing
embrace, and a casual swipe becomes a drawn-out gouge which spills organs and blood upon the ground
in all manner of pleasing patterns.
The Keeper of Secrets is extremely dangerous outside of melee as well, capable of casting spells that
directly plays to the passion of their enemies. Through this it can manipulate their desires and dreams,
making it difficult for all but the strongest willed to fight them. A Keeper of Secrets is utterly fearless
as to it death is just a sensation to be tasted and enjoyed.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Its claws. The Keeper of Secrets is a master melee

combatant, and undeniably the most skilled daemon after the
Bloodthirster. Generally armor is no obstacle, and they can
shred a knight with a single swipe. Furthermore Keepers of
Secrets are master sorcerers capable of using spells from the
Lore of Slaanesh or Shadow. Their blows are made with
immense speed, being hard to track even by Elven eyes . May
carry gifts from the daemonic gifts section.
Defensive: Though innately tough, the Keeper of Secrets

main defense is the sheer grace that it moves, and the skill
that it parries/dodges attacks. Also it stands several times a
persons height. May carry gifts from the daemonic gift
section.
What a world you mortals inhabit! Rich in sensation, suffused

with suffering and reeking of all manner of unfulfilled desire.
Come, embrace me, and learn the exquisite gifts my Prince
can bestow. Keeper of Secrets to victim
The highest ranks of the greater daemons are the
terrifying and fearsome exalted daemons, the ultimate
instruments of the will of the gods. Those of Khorne or
Slaanesh have damned or slaughtered so many to
impress even their patrons, while the schemes and
plagues of those of Nurgle and Tzeentch must be
incredible indeed for those gods to welcome beings in
their inner circle. These horrific creatures stand as the
bodyguards, confidants, advisors and deadliest
servants of the Chaos gods. Standing larger than their
unannointed (and envious) brethren these creatures
radiate some of the unholy power of their dark masters
themselves. They are legends, they are horrors, and
they are the whispered fiends that are said to murder
whole armies, civilizations, even worlds.
While all daemons have auras, the associated emotions and magic around these Exalted are so strong as
to be completely disruptive to anyone within certain distance of it(between 100 to 25m). The Exalted
Lord of Change croaks utter divine nonsense, all-seeing intuitions juxtaposed with intriguing half-
truths that make even the strong-willed second guess their every intention (in practical terms,
weakening combat effectiveness) . So stuffed and boiling to the brim with diseases is an Exalted Great
Unclean One that most mortals will quickly collapse from the mere immediate presence of one. A
Exalted Keeper of Secrets sends out waves of pleasure and pain that numbs those not of pure of heart
or body, while Khornes wrath can cause those around the Bloodthirster to turn into something out of
28 Days Later.
Naturally, all Exalted Greater Daemons bar the Bloodthirster are wizards in their respective lores of the
highest caliber. The Exalted Unclean One can vomit up an extremely potent barrage of acidic bile,
blood and maggots while the Lord of Change can shoot the living flames of Tzeentch out his claws. The
Exalted Bloodthirster of Khorne has some of Khornes own armor built into his brass that essentially
negates all magical weapons in his immediate presence with the possible exception of the most
legendary such as Sigmar. This ability does not apply to spells though the Exalted Greater daemon is as
magically resistant as they come. All variants carry massively powerful and deadly weapons that can
destroy even monstrous creatures through magical effect alone- in but a few moves.
Fortunately for mortals, there are two factors that govern their appearance. The first is that they are
incredibly rare, with Exalted Bloodthirsters confirmed to only number eight in existence- which is
Khornes sacred number. If we assume the number of exalted greater daemons of the other gods
similarly corresponds with their sacred numbers than the number of exalted daemons for Tzeentch,
Nurgle & Slaanesh is 9,7 & 6 respectively. The second reason why they cannot easily manifest is that so
powerful are these creatures that the Winds of Magic have to be roaring at a truly apocalyptic tempo-
beyond even the normal End Times magic- for reality to be weak enough for one to manifest.
Presumably, the god who is ascendant(see Lores of Magic) would find it somewhat easier to bring one
to existence than the others.
It is fortunate that Exalted Daemons are so rare, for when just one does appear only the most legendary
of heroes or massive amounts of firepower have any real guarantee to take one down. Yet it can be
done. In Age of Sigmar the incarnates have managed to as has the ancient Tong chieftan that once
dominated much of the world.
Dorgo jumped over the last dregs of molten bronze and approached the forge with tremulous, awed
steps. He could feel its power calling out to him, demanding to be used. He could feel its unimaginable
hate tearing at his mind, filling it with visions more terrible than those engraved on the walls.
The soul of Krathin, Sanya gasped, crossing into the chamber. There was a feverish, almost lustful gleam
in her eyes as she spoke the name of the bloodthirster. She approached the forge, sweat dripping down
her face.
Dorgo felt a wave of murderous jealousy thunder through his brain. Kill! the emotion told him. Kill! Kill!
Kill! His body shivered with the effort of holding back, denying the roaring urge that burned in his veins.
That part of him he understood as intelligence and self railed against the mental command, fighting to
keep control of his rebellious flesh. That part of him that was instinct and feeling was already enslaved,
exerting itself to snap the fragile rule of his reason.
As he fought, Dorgo saw Sanya turn towards him. Her dagger was once more in her hand as she slowly
strode across the chamber. He could see nothing but crazed bloodlust in her eyes, nothing but murder on
her face. This time, he knew, it would not be his hand she cut.
Sanyas other hand slowly, tremblingly, lifted to her neck by inches and degrees, so slowly it almost
seemed the hand wasnt moving. Dorgo felt his desperate effort to keep control of his body start to slip
away, to drain out of him the way the bronze doors had vanished into the floor. If he failed, he knew he
would surge forwards in a berserk rush. He could see his hands grabbing either side of Sanyas face,
wrenching her head full around and snapping her neck like a twig. If he didnt fail, Sanya would sink her
dagger into his chest and bury it in his heart. The image ran through his mind again and again. Either
outcome would suit the malevolent power of the Black Altar equally well.
Only a few steps separated Tsavag and Sul. Dorgo felt fear oozing into his thoughts as the moment when
the dagger would strike drew ever closer. Like acid, it gnawed at his desperate hold over his treacherous
body. He felt his body lurch forwards, his hands curling into beast-like claws.
Then Sanyas free hand closed around its objective. The womans fist clenched tightly around the amulet
she still wore, the silvery rune of Cheen the Changer. Horror flashed through her eyes, unseating the
bloodthirsty hatred that had filled them. She gave a sharp bark of fright as she saw Dorgo lunge towards
her. Like a striking adder, she dropped her dagger and grabbed his wrist.
Instantly, Dorgo felt reason restored to him. Something growled through his body as it recoiled from a
bright, searing energy. He could feel its frustrated wrath as it was driven out, like a lion cheated of its kill.
Then it was gone and he was master of his flesh once more.
Sanya and Dorgo stared into each others eyes for a long time, watching for any hint of the murderous
madness. At last they were satisfied. Sanya released her hold on his wrist and drew away from him.
I hadnt expected it to be so strong, not after all this time, she said, almost apologetic in her tone.
Dorgo didnt look at her, but kept watching the walls, trying to find the source of the attack, some hidden
lurker that had cast a spell upon them. Wasnt it you who said that time is without meaning in the
Wastes? Dorgo replied acidly.
Sanya gave him a thin smile, irritated that a brutish mammoth rider made the connection, more than
irritated that she had never considered it. Whatever you think youre looking for, you wont find it, she
told him. There is only one shape the spirit of Krathin can wear now. She gestured to the grotesque
forge. Dorgo could see the charred mass of flesh crawling with some abominable inner motion, like
worms writhing in a corpse. When Teiyogtei slew the bloodthirster, he had bound the daemons spirit
into a shape that would serve him and imprisoned it within the Black Altar.
It still lives? Dorgo asked, repulsed by the suggestion.
No, Sanya said in an almost soothing voice, though Dorgo could not be certain if it was his or her fear
that she was trying to allay. It is not alive, but a daemon does not die the way we understand death.
Just as it would be wrong to call it alive, it is wrong to say it is dead.
What is it then? Dorgo scoffed, annoyed by the sorceress riddling words. Sleeping?
Sanya shivered visibly and he saw that her effort to quiet her fears was ruined. Her reply was a singled
word, hissed through clenched teeth. Waiting. Exalted Bloodthirster bloodlust aura. Note: This
Bloodthirster was chained and thus harmless to act directly.
Mobility: 2-3
Preferred Range: Spells
"Even the slavers fell silent, however, as a rider

emerged from the depths of the ziggurat. He was an
especially loathsome example of dwarf, his black beard
dyed with streaks of crimson, his hands encased in a
dazzling array of rings. His squat body was swathed in
purple robes upon which flickering flames had been
woven. The dwarfs eyes were hidden behind a veil of
silver thread which depended from the brim of a tall helm of gold adorned with bloodstones. The face
beneath the veil was burned, grey scar-tissue covering most of the bulbous nose and making one cheek
resemble lumpy porridge.
More imposing than the hideous dwarf was the beast he rode out from the gates. It was a creature the
likes of which Wulfrik had never seen in all his travels. In shape it was not unlike some great black bull,
but from its back immense leathery wings were spread, fanned out like the pinions of a dragon. The tail
was long and thick, more like that of some giant reptile than a beast of the field, and at its tip was a
mallet-like knob of bone. The monsters hind legs ended in steel-shod hooves, but its forelegs were tipped
by hand-like paws, each finger ending in a long claw sheathed in steel. The head of the beast was an
even more ghastly mixture of dwarf and bovine than the centaur Wulfrik had killed, immense horns
curling away from a black, leathery face with a curly red beard. With every breath, the creature exhaled
a cloud of greasy smoke that sparkled weirdly as it swirled about the beast and its rider." -Wulfrik
Daemonsmith are the brilliant and terrible engineers of the Chaos Dwarves who, combining sorcery and
mad science, create and maintain the terrible siege engines the Chaos Dwarves use. It was they who,
millennia ago, lead their people from near extinction to a prosperous if tyrannical empire. Their works
of sorcery and engineering are legendary, from the great obsidian and basalt towers and ziggurats
drawn forth from the earth, and the dark iron towers raised up throughout the Dark Lands, to the
steam-hissing engines that crush rock in slave mines and the baroque armor which adorns the Chaos
warriors of the north. All are their dark knowledge made manifest.
Though the Daemonsmiths have no clear-cut hierarchy, age and wisdom is respected among them just
as it is among the Dwarves. The oldest and presumably wisest are known as the Sorcerer-Prophets
and they seem to take up the closest position as leaders of their race. These positions are only
maintained through strength, and should they show weakness they will be usurped and thrown into the
sacrificial fires of their god.
In battle the Daemonsmiths of Hashut are terrifying and unpredictable opponents, their dark magics
able to work terrible danger upon the environment. They are each also master artisans of war and may
lend their skills to war machine crews or themselves bear savage and potent examples of their craft such
as black powder weapons, mighty armor, and flasks of burning alchemical oil, daemon-bound blades
and ensorcelled weapons. Each however must display great caution when they wield their occult
power, for each spell they wield could also be their last. Chaos Dwarf sorcerers suffer from the fact that
their race was not created with sorcery in mind. As a result there is a chance with each spell they cast
that a part of them turns to stone, eventually reducing them to immobile, stone statues.
==LOADOUT==
Offensive: Darkforged
Weaponry: Paranoid
and malign, the
Daemonsmiths of the
Chaos Dwarfs often
retain their most
potent work for their
own use. These
Darkforged weapons
can vary in style and
shape according, to
the whims of their
creator, as can the
abilities granted to
than by the twisted
runes and nightmarish
infusions bound within
them. For example
these abilities can help
them cast or dispel
spells easier, make
them even more
hateful or make the
weapon life-leeching,
allow them to fire a
long-ranged
technological fireball
from their weapon or even be possessed by a daemon, making the weapon much stronger at the cost of
having a weapon that wants (and sometimes succeeds) in turning itself against the Daemonsmith.
Napatha Bombs: Containing sorcerous concoctions of sulphurous chemicals and the filtered essence of
fire-daemons sundered as a by-product of their dark arts, Napatha bombs are unstable explosive flasks
which break apart into masses of seething flame. These can be thrown up to 25 meters . Though most
of these bombas are relatively stable, a very few have been known to go off in their owners hands.
Blood of Hashut: The so-called Blood of Hashut is a powerful alchemical substance saturated with
daemonic magic that ignites metal on contact, busting it into molten flame. Although precious beyond
mere gold, the favored of the Dark God Hashtut sometimes carry a vial of this liquid into combat to the
devastation of the most heavily armored foe. Essentially can be used to give an incredible advantage in
a single armored duel.
Both Daemonsmiths and Sorcerer Prophets may know spells from the Lore of Hashut, Fire or Metal, with
the latter knowing more than the former. Daemonsmiths usually range from level 1-3 sorcerers while
Sorcerer-Prophets, being rarer, are almost always going to be level 3-4.
Potential Magical Weapons: Though magical weapons are rare by virtue of their status Daemonsmiths
can acquire magical weapons. These might include a hammer that can crush ogre bones and lights
everything it hits on fire, a dagger of pure malice, and even an instant-kill mace that devours the warmth
of whatever it touches. By far the most powerful if singular, the Daemon Flask of Ashak, once unleashed,
invokes terror in everyone within 100 meters and viciously attacks all technology. Unfortunately it can
only be used once, as the daemon inside uses the escape to flee to the Aether.
Finally some Chaos Dwarfs have a class of priestly bodyguards of women too old to reproduce as
shown by the novel Wulfrik. Known as the Acolytes of Hashut, these women are used as fanatical
bodyguards of the sorcerers and tyrants. The Chaos Dwarf masters consider them barely more useful
than a hobgoblin, for to them a woman incapable of breeding is essentially worthless.
Defensive: Blackshard Armor. Rarely they might have a talisman that boosts toughness or flame
protection. The very best magical piece is a near unbreakable armor with magic resistance.
Daemonsmiths can function as specialized engineers with a slightly better fire rate and an uncanny
ability to survive if something goes wrong. They are so stubborn that they show no fear in battle, and
are well experienced with many decades or centuries behind them. However they are extremely rare,
with only several hundred total throughout their entire empire, much less then can easily be afforded
on one battlefield. Sorcerer-Prophets are rarer still. Daemonsmiths may ride a Lamassu or Great Taurus
into battle while the Sorcerer Prophet might ride either of those or the Bale Taurus into combat.
Mobility: 2-3
Max & Effective Range: Flamethrower
Though the mighty sorcerer lords ultimately rule their race, they are not the only the only ones who take
part in the power structure. It is impossible for them to maintain their steadily growing empire by
themselves, for magic in Warhammer is rare and magic for Dwarfs rarer still. To that end they rely on
powerful, experienced generals, tyrants and thegns to maintain their great slaving pits, lead armies, and
serve the proclaimed will of Hashut. Zhatan the Black and Rykarth are two famous examples.
These terrible despots are gifted the mightiest weapons and armor of the Chaos Dwarfs, many of which
carry dark legeacies dating back centuries or even millennia. Sometimes more bizarre devices are
utilized and, as the quote below shows, one Thegn possessed an actual mech-suit that allowed him to be
more than a match for a band of Norscan soldiers (though, ultimately, not enough of one against
Wulfrik).
Offensive: All sorts of magical, daemon infused weapons, pistols and artifacts. Rarely they might possess
something truly spectacular, like a mech suit.
Defensive: Blackshard armor and magical items.
The dwarf thegn hadnt been so idle as Wulfrik had supposed. Instead of the rich robes of a pampered
king, Khorakk was encased in a heavy suit of plate armour which drastically increased both his height
and his bulk. There was no fright in the thegns eyes when he saw Wulfrik enter the temple, not even
surprise, only an amused sort of disgust.
You led them here, Khorakks slithery voice rasped as he turned towards one of the slavers. Before the
slaver could react, Khorakks armoured hand reached out and closed about his head. Steam puffed from
vents in the armours elbow and shoulder as Khorakk crushed the slavers head into paste. How
inconvenient, the thegn said. With a flick of his hand, he sent the slavers body pitching into the molten
fire beneath the platform.
()
While the platform was still a few feet from the floor of the temple, Khorakk lunged at Wulfrik. Jets of
steam hissed from pistons fastened to the thegns armoured legs, the machinery endowing his leap with
force far beyond that of mere flesh. The Norscan scrambled as Khorakks body came crashing down at
him, clearing the dozen yards between himself and his prey in the blink of an eye. The dwarf smashed
into the floor with such force that the basalt block cracked beneath the impact. Coiled wires fitted into
the steel legs absorbed the shock of his violent descent, allowing Khorakk to recover immediately from
his leap. The dwarfs crooked blade flashed out at Wulfrik, glancing across the champions scalp as he
ducked beneath the sudden assault.
The dwarfs armour made him taller than Wulfrik and about as massive as a troll. When the heros sword
stabbed at him, Khorakk laughed, the blade scarcely scratching the thick marble breastplate.
Where is your bragging now? Khorakk growled, pursuing his attack on the northman. The steam-
powered arms of his armour gave the dwarf incredible speed, his blade slashing at Wulfrik as though it
were crafted from lightning. Only the rage-ridden clumsiness of Khorakks attack allowed the hero to
defend himself, dodging and weaving his body as the crescent blade sliced at his body.
In dodging the blade, however, Wulfrik exposed himself to the dwarfs other hand, the steel gauntlet that
had crushed the slavers skull. The metal fingers ripped at him, cutting through his armour as though it
were Cathayan silk. Shreds of mail dangled from Khorakks hand when Wulfrik squirmed out of the
dwarfs tightening grip. Blood rose to fill the deep gouges the thegns talons left across the northmans
chest
Wulfrik snarled in pain, staggering back as Khorakk flung the tatters of his armour into one of the fiery
canals. The dwarfs legs spewed jets of steam as he pressed his attack and forced the hero to give ground
before him. Khorakk glanced about him to ensure himself that he would not be flanked by the
barbarians comrades.
(..)
The dwarfs momentary distraction as he watched Stefnir fall before the acolytes gave Wulfrik the
opportunity he had been watching for. Clenching his fangs, Wulfrik suddenly sprang at the gloating
thegn. His blade scraped across the steel gorget the dwarf wore, failing to find the weak join between
neck and breastplate. As his sword turned, Wulfrik twisted his hand, slamming the crosspiece into
Khorakks face. The dwarf howled in pain as his ugly visage was smashed into bruised wreckage.
Swine! Dog! the thegn swore, raising a hand to shield his face while swiping blindly at Wulfrik with his
blade. Khorakk cursed again as the hero ducked beneath his sweeping steel to slash at the cables and
pistons fitted to his legs. Screaming steam exploded from ruptured lines, venting across the floor in a
boiling cloud. Wulfrik retreated from the steam, his flesh scalded by the burning vapour.
Khorakk stumbled back, the injured leg of his armour sluggish and jerky in its movements. As the cloud of
steam jetting from the pipes dwindled, the dwarfs leg lost all of its remaining flexibility, at last becoming
completely immobile.
Youll suffer for that! the thegn promised. He pressed his hand against a stud affixed to his breastplate.
Puffs of smoke vented from the armour around his neck as two steel hinges sprang into motion, raising a
horned helm from where it had rested against the dwarfs back and lowering it over his head. Khorakks
hate-ridden eyes glared from behind the grilled visor set into the helms golden mask.
Wulfrik ran his hand across his bleeding scalp, flicking scarlet beads onto the dwarfs mask. Too late to
spare your looks, the northman said. They looked like troll vomit before I touched them!
Half-blinded, Khorakk slapped at a second stud fitted to his breastplate. From his right forearm, a steel
plug suddenly popped free from the end of a pipe. Wulfrik had assumed the pipe was another piston
designed to give the dwarf extra strength in his arm. Now he learned its real purpose. The dwarf
clenched his fist. In response, a jet of fire exploded from the mouth of the pipe, billowing out at his foe in
a sheet of flame.
Wulfrik leapt from the path of the fire, sliding across the floor. His momentum carried him to the very
brink of one of the canals, the miasma of the bubbling magma singeing his beard. The hero didnt have
time to consider how close he had come to destruction. As he arrested his slide, he threw himself to one
side. Fire from Khorakks armour blasted the floor where he had lain, the stones glowing red with heat as
the flame played across them. - Wulfrik
Mobility: 4
Preferred Range: Spell
Since ages past the Truthsayers of Albion have been the

guardians of the sacred orham stones which were
constructed by the Old Ones. They have passed down the
teachings of the Old Ones from master to apprentice and
ensured that the forces of Chaos have been contained. Now
however Kheciss, the foremost of the Truthsayers, has
entered the ancient metal structure known as the Citadel of
Lead. He did not return for some time, and other Truthsayers
also entered the Citadel to discover his fate. When this group
emerged, with Kheciss at their head, they came as emissaries
of a new and terrible master. Once tall and noble warrior-
mages, these Dark Emissaries had been changed into
hunched, twisted figures covered by robes and cowls. When Kheciss proposed to the council of
Truthsayers that they should obey the Dark Master and unleash the power locked in the Ogham stones
the Truthsayers were outraged and banished the renegade Dark Emissaries from Albion. The Dark
Emissaries have not been idle in their exile.
Historically Dark Emissaries helped instigate and fought for the War of Albion. In this conflict the Old
Ones artifacts were the prize; devices that could, upon removal, make it far easier for daemons to
manifest, give its wielders extreme power or some other malevolent combination. For that reason, even
as Truthsayers were appealing to the good factions of the world to save their island, the Dark Emissaries
were appealing to the evil, thus turning the simple island squabble into a continental conflict. This was
just as planned by the shadowy master, Be'lakor, who in the midst of the conflict gradually siphoned
more and more power to allow himself to escape the curse of the Chaos Gods and walk freely.
Ultimately, though his full objectives were unachieved, Be'lakor did manage to escape the curse and
gained the ability to roam freely. He fled Albion, recognizing that he could achieve no further gains
there. Hiss servants the Dark Emissaries, those few that survived the campaign, have been frequently
seen wandering the Old World and hiring themselves out to various bidders . Then they cozy up to these
rulers, becoming more and more important in the grand schemes of their erstwhile masters. Their
employers thus grow to depend on their sorceries and arcane advice. Then, when their ruler needs
them most, they vanish, leaving the ruler to his fate. It is unknown why the Dark Emissaries operate in
this way, but it is similar to how their old master Be'lakor operated in the past....
Dark Emissaries are known to summon between 1-3 Fenbeasts in battle. Formed from mud and the
detritus of the marshes, Fenbeasts are not living creatures in any true sense. They feel no pain and can
reshape themselves to reform limbs that have been blown or chopped off. They have an elemental
strength, drawing power from the ground beneath them to smash the enemy with fists as powerful as
battering rams. They are without emotion, fearless beasts which will not stop as long as their master's
will endures.Should their master falter or perish, these creatures will collapse.
Fenbeasts specialize in marshlands and swamps, however lose their regenerative abilities in other
landscapes.
===LOADOUT===
Offensive: Dark Emissaries can carry swords or axes, in addition to the wielding the Staff of Darkness.
This malign staff connects directly to the Aether, allowing them to wield the powers of death and
destruction with greater precision. They can use the Lore of Shadows, Death or, as of the Albion
campaign, the Lore of the Dark Master:
--1 Bolt of Dark Light : The Dark Emissary conjures the powers of the Dark Master and unleashes a
deadly ray of pure dark energy. Has a range of 100 meters and can hit up to 6 at once.
--2. Betrayal in Death : Under the effect of this curse, enemy warriors who are mortally wounded are
transformed into ghastly animated bodies and turn to attack their comrades. This spell is cast on a single
unit at 100 meters and those reborn warriors attack enemies in a zombie-like fashion, generally forgoing
weapons.
--3. Nightmare : The perverse arts of the Dark Emissary creates the illusion of the enemy's worst fears in
front of their very eyes. Has a range of 300 meters, and if successful causes the enemy unit to flee.
--4. Curse of The Dark Master : The heart of the enemy is grasped by icy tentacles of fear and doubt that
saps their strength and their will to fight. Thus reducing their effectiveness in combat. This curse can be
cast on any single unit in the whole battlefield, and will not end until dispelled, the unit dies, or the
caster (the Dark Emissary) dies.
--5. Fog of Death: A mysterious fog rises from the ground, shrouding the entire battlefield. All fighting
stops for a short time, while friend and foe alike are lost in the haze and sinister screams fill the air. This
spell can affect all enemy units on the battlefield, with the weakest enemies perishing from it. However
the Dark Emissary has limited control and usually at least half of the friendly force suffers from the same
ill effects.
--6.Coils Of The Serpent: A writhing form snakes its way from the outstretched hands of the Dark
Emissary and wraps its coils around a single enemy warrior, crushing the life out of his body if he isn't
tough enough to fight the snake off. Has a range of 50 meters.
Suddenly, a fierce pain gripped Tybalts chest and his mind filled with panic. With a gurgled cry, he
pitched backwards from his saddle, twisting his ankle as his foot caught in the left stirrup. Agony like
white-hot shards seared through his heartand lungs as he pulled his strained foot free and lay on the
ground, writhing, clutching at his chest trying to pull off his breastplate which threatened to crush the
life out of him. Writhing on the muddled ground, the stench of blood and sweat strong in his nostrils,
Tybalt felt as if he was sinking, being pulled into the earth. He struggled to free himself, lashing out
blindly with his sword before a spasm in his fingers threw the sword away. Through tear-stained eyes he
caught the sight of Morlant smashing his way through the knights that formed a circle around their
leader. Between the legs of one horse, he caught sight of the robed man, who stood with his clawed
hand outstretched towards Tybalt. -Tybalts Battle
FenBeasts are large, ogre sized monsters with arms the size of tree trunks, attacking with brute strength.
Defensive: The Dark Emissary wears little armor. The FenBeast has the ability to regenerate wounds
and is durable in its own right.
Additional Factors:
-The Dark Emissary is someone who can counted upon to sow discord, and if given the chance will
infiltrate the leadership of the enemy or neutral factions, spreading false information, lies and other
attempts to sow discord and evil. They are however rare, and only a handful have been spotted since
the wars of Albion.
Mobility: 4
Max & Effective Range:

Spell

(mostly)
The Fimir are a race of

Chaos-corrupted lizard-
like cyclopean creatures.
Long before the race of
man had emerged from the tribal stage, the Fimir held a vast civilization in which worship was centered
around the Chaos gods. For a time this lizard race enjoyed their favor, however as man advanced the
eyes of Chaos were increasingly drawn to them, abandoning the Fimir . The Fimir civilization entered a
rapid decline, and those scattered
remnants now live secluded in their
swamp domains.
When a Storm of Magic reigns the

Fimir deign to make an appearance
once more, for they all secretly long
for the fickle favor of Chaos. When
the armies of Chaos mass so too do
the Fimir join them, either through
bound scrolls as the result of
daemons or as part of a desperate
wish to somehow aid in the ultimate
victory of Chaos. And now, in the
End Times, they have a real chance to gain the Dark Gods gaze once more.
According to White Dwarf #102 Fimir society is divided between roughly four classes. The first are the
shearl, or thralls serve as the slaves and expendable fodder of this race. Though usually kept out of
combat if brought to it they would be used akin to Skavenslaves, given cheap weapons and sent in to
die. The second class are the mighty warriors which are split between rankings The bottom Fimm
Warriors are usually given shields and light armor while the Fiana Fimm (retainers) are far more
impressive. Bound in dark grey armor and led by scheming nobles, this group forms the shock attack
of any raids the Fimir continue to launch. They can wield great halberds, giant cleavers or axes and
attack with a giant spiked tail. A warlord might lead these armed with magic weaponry.
Rarely a Draich balefiend might show up, a wizard of

fire and shadow that continually seeks to actively
court chaos. Though their magic is noted for being
cruder then those of humans or elves, they have
long since stolen certain powers of daemons and
have innate ability to see the winds of magic. If the
Fimir are truly committed a Meargh might appear,
who are the Fimir queen matriarchs that rule the
tribes and have countless years of experience. If the
Meargh is ever killed, the rest of the tribe will
embark on death quests to try to avenge her. Both
the Warriors and Balefiends are noted for arriving
via magical mists, which makes it harder for
enemies to target them. In fact older army books
has them causing mists just by existing.
In biological capabilities the Fimir are said to be

stronger and taller then humans, with six foot long
tails, but with the compensation of lacking good
depth perceptionand generally being low
intelligence (with the exception of the Meargh).
Most Fimir can live up to 200 years with the oldest Draiich or Meargh being essentially ageless.
The Fimirs weakness is that they dislike bright sunlight, and will suffer if their mists are removed from
them. Indeed this is shown in Lords of the Marsh, where victims of the race manage to escape as soon
as the night ended.
The Fimir have formed an alliance with a Gnoblar race known as the Bolgars. This race shares their
extreme sensitivity to sunlight and bright lights, but are a useful ally for their horde like nature. Upon
contact with water they are capable of multiplying rapidly, quickly birthing new members even in battle.
===LOADOUT===
Offensive: Shearls can be found with minor combat weapons akin to Skaven slaves. Fimm Warriors,
meanwhile might be given axes or clubs. The Fiana Fimm retainers have access to Halberds, clubs, two-
handed mauls, swords etc. Driarchs are magic users specializing in fire and shadow lores in addition to
unique mist magic and the summoning of daemons including swamp daemons, which are excellent
ambushers who try to drown people. The White Dwarf article Strongholds of the Skaven describe them
as being able to control the mists of the swamp and even command the creatures within. Furthermore,
in Tamurkhan when the titular Chaos warlord wandered through their swamps many of their patrols
were gobbled up by the mists.
In addition to hand weapons, many Fimir also have knives or spikes attached to their tails. In WFRP a
few have been known to allow daemons to possess them, which makes the Fimir stronger and give the
ability to shoot quills our of their tail.
Bolgars are armed with sharpened sticks or rocks.
Defensive: The Fiana Fimm seems to have a sort of bronze armor while the rest must rely on their
reptile scaly skin or a light shield at best as defense.
A grey mist hovered above the floor, almost concealing the furry bodies strewn about the slimy stones.
There were hundreds of dead skaven littering the cavern. Visscher thought at first the mist might be
some of their poison gas, that some accident had struck and annihilated the scheming rodents. Then,
through a gap in the mist, he was able to get a good look at the dead ratmen. The bodies were viciously
mutilated, hacked and torn in an abominable manner. What had happened here had been no accident,
but a massacre.
Theyre all dead, Visscher whispered. How?
Seeckt shook his head, unable to conceive an answer. He turned his gaze across the cavern, then
froze. He grabbed Visschers shoulder, turning him so he faced the far end of the chamber.
On the ground, mutilated as badly as any of the ratkin, was the body of Gustav Mertens. But it
wasnt the lunatics corpse that arrested the attention of the men. It was the thing walking off into the
darkness, vanishing into a mist-choked passageway. Taller than skaven or man, its body covered in slimy
green skin, its beaked head twisted into a fanged snout and great baleful eye. A single eye, shining with
malefic intelligence, exuding the immortal hate of an eldritch race.
When Gnawlitch Shun chose a legend to hide his raiders, Seeckt whispered, he should have
made sure the legend wasnt real. - Marshlight
The Fimir are an exceptionally rare race that has been confined mostly to the greatest depths of
swamps. Even in Sigmars time they were almost a legend, and though driven to aid Chaos in a vain
attempt to gain glory once more, they can only provide a highly limited contribution.
Mobility: 4
Preferred Range: Melee( mostly)
Role: Attached to most units
In Warhammer Fantasy standards are symbols often displayed proudly by the armies and individual
units that carry them. Often they openly illustrate the companies history and achievement, allowing its
present company to take pride in their past. Their very presence can raise moral somewhat and even
inspire men to match the deeds of their forbearers.
Chaos too has banners to employ. Sometimes it might be the symbol of a past Daemon Prince who
ascended to a new level, and its descendants wish to curry his favor by proudly displaying his mark. This
train of logic might apply to specific Daemons or Gods as well, for the Bloodletters of Khorne too might
carry the banner of a particularly inspiring champion. Other times it might be a captured enemy
standard held high, torn up, and taken for their own(common among the Beasts). In this way the unit
can show off one of their greatest triumphs to their allies, intimidate/piss off the enemy and generally
take pride in their own feats.
Standards are a minor morale raiser on the battlefield, but far from the only one. Warhammer armies,
even Chaos, usually bring some sort of music to the battlefield. These can be primitive drums,
melodious shouting or chanting. This applies to even Daemons, with Bloodletters chanting the names of
those who they have slain into battle (which may include friends/relatives of the enemy) and Slaanesh
Daemonettes providing an eerie, melodious singing. This serves to get the blood pumping before battle
and even demoralize the enemy.
Rarest of all (with even Greater Daemons appearing at greater frequency) are those standards endowed
with actual magical ability. Ranging in effect from enticing fear among the enemy to even holding a
spell inside, these magical standards can shape the battlefield itself. Most magical banners effect only
the unit they are attached to unless otherwise noted. Examples include
-Manbane Banner: Essentially a scarecrow banner, but with a man on top! This banner is designed to
invoke fear in men.
-Totem of Rust: Causes metal to rapidly decay in this banners immediate presence.
-Beast Banner: Made from the skins of past successful bestigor champions, this supernatural banner
boosts the strength of the unit it is attached to, giving them a buff equivalent to making a scrawny
teenage fighter into a weightlifter. Only in this case the Beastman was already stronger than a man
-Banner of Unholy Victory: This magical banner bends reality and forcibly scours images of past Chaos
victories on the enemy, hurting morale and mutilating the enemy.
-Banner of Decay: infested with all sorts of diseases that infect, debilitate and even quickly kill enemies
nearby.
-Icon of Unending War: Makes already bloodthirstily Khornates yet more bloodthirsty and powerful in
combat.
-Siren Banner: Like the Sirens of Greek myth this banners alluring song stuns the senses of most of
those in earshot, giving the Slaaneshi force it is attached to an advantage.
-Hellfire banner: Infused with supernatural hellfire that can be used as a spell on any foe within 300
meters.
-Harbinger of Horror/Deadly Swarm: The Harbinger of Horror magically enhanced standard that
contains inside an entire legion of plaguebearers! Upon command these daemons can burst out of the
banner to surprise an enemy unit. The Deadly Swarm is a similar concept but instead it contains a
massive swarm of insects which go for the throat, the eyes and even blocks out the sun for the afflicted
enemy units.
-Gatherer of Souls: A huge daemon is trapped inside this banner and is capable of reaching out with
eldritch tentacles to gobble nearby enemy troops.
-The Dark Mask: Surrounds a given unit in dark mists and billowing clouds of a magical nature that ward
off enemy missiles and dissipate spells. Essentially only melee can effect the unit with this standard.
-Maw of Magic: A Hungry maw that gobbles up magic from any spell cast against the unit that it
protects.
-The Scream: Induces supernatural terror in a targeted enemy unit with a range of 300 meters.
-Daemonic Devourer: This magical standard carries the souls of creatures long since culled from the
Realm of Chaos and bound inside. Snake like heads with faces of unrecognizable creatures grow out of it
and in melee combat they reach out to ensnare enemy troops.
-Weaving Watcher: With a range of 100 meters this banner, upon command, can be targeted at a single
enemy unit to boil the blood and shrivel the flesh of some in that unit.
-The Puppeteer: A Clasically Tzeentchi standard, this banner attempts to seize control of the limbs of the
targeted enemy unit. Though sometimes the foe can fight off the magic, other times it is forced to run
into random directions such as retreating from the battle or even colliding with allied troops. This
banner is generally non-fatal though and whose main purpose is to inflict havoc.
-Blasted Banner: A Tzeentchi banner that protects an attached unit against ranged fire. A hail of
muskets might turn into a bundle of feathers or bright colored smoke. However like everything Tzeentch
has his whims are unpredictable and a volley of arrows might, for instance, turn into a number of giant
meteors and do more damage than they would otherwise.
-Banner of Rage; Turns Khornate followers into creatures in a state of permanent bloodlust.
-Rapturous Standard: Torn from the skin of a dozen hysterical maniacs, this banner gives the entire unit
immunity to fear.
-Banner of the Dark Gods: Evokes a field of supernatural terror and makes those carrying it virtually
immune to enemy morale attacks.
-Flesh Banner: A banner of tentacles and appendages that reaches out to attack its foes.
-Plage Banner: Infused with the power of a magical plague, this banner can be directed like a spell
against an enemy unit to effect them with a plague, killing an unspecific number of them.
-Pestilent/Disease Banner: The first can supernaturally drain the vitality of some of the enemy unit
fighting against the unit carruying the banner (with effectiveness depending on the enemys toughness
value) while the second makes it so all wounds done against the Nurgle banner carrier unit has a chace
to infect the enemy with a deadly disease.
-Writhing Eye Banner: Depicting the unblinking state of Tzeetch himself, this banner effects everyone
within a 100 meters of it. Some are fortunate to avoid the effects completely however others are
paralyzed, rendered catonic, writhe uncontrollably on the ground or are even driven completely mad.
-Banner of Slavery: Actually manages to supernaturally force Hobgoblins nearby to stop being cowardly
and fight amongst themselves.
Erich reached the crest of the hill and raised the banner high over his head. It flapped thickly in the
wind. Though there was no change in the weather, a pall seemed to fall across the whole valley, as if the
banner sucked up light. Reiner felt a chill shiver through him. Franka moaned. The effect on the troops in
the valley was even stronger. Manfred's men faltered and fell back all along his line, stunned into
inaction by the banner's dread influence.
()
'As you wish, lady,' said Erich, shrugging off her hand. 'There is no need to move. Back to your cannon!'
he called to the gun crews. 'I'll handle this rabble.'
The artillerymen obeyed like sheep.

'Shoot him!' shouted Reiner, drawing his pistols, as Erich started to turn the banner. 'Kill him!'
Franka and Giano raised their bows as Oskar aimed his handgun by laying the long barrel across the
splint of his broken wrist.
'Hold your fire!' Erich commanded, and to Reiner's chagrin, he found it impossible to disobey the order.
He could not force his fingers to squeeze the triggers. The others were similarly affected, shaking with
the effort to shoot.
Hands shaking, Giano finally fired his crossbow, but the bolt flew off at an angle. 'Curse it!' said the
Tilean, frustrated. 'My hands no listen!'
'It's the banner,' said Franka, her arms trembling as she held her bow at full draw.
Erich laughed and raised the banner, pointing at them with his free hand as his six swordsmen advanced.
'Kneel, soldiers! Listen to your leader. I am your rightful captain, you must follow my orders. Kneel and
bow your heads.'
To Reiner's left and right Pavel, Hals and Oskar fell to their knees. Their chins dropped to their chests,
though he could see them struggling to raise them. Reiner felt an almost unconquerable urge to follow
suit. Erich was their rightful leader. He was the most senior officer now that Veirt was dead, and he was
so strong and brave and had so much more experience than Reiner. It would be such a relief to let the
mantle of command slip from his shoulders and let someone else lead again. Reiner's knees bent, but as
he looked up to his beloved leader, he paused halfway to the ground.
Erich's face was twisted in a smug sneer, a jarring discontinuity with the noble image of him Reiner held
in his head. He froze as his mind fought to reconcile the two pictures. To his left he saw that Giano and
Franka were similarly halted in mid-genuflection.
Erich's swordsmen were closing, moving not like soldiers of the Empire, but like apes, hunched and
menacing, eyes blank, and mouths slack. Reiner tried to move, but his limbs couldn't answer the
conflicting commands his mind was sending them.
The first swordsman reached Franka and raised his sword like an executioner. Franka shook with the
effort to leap away, but could not. The sword was coming down.
'No!' barked Reiner, and fired his first pistol without thinking, blasting a ball up through the swordsman's
jaw and out of the top of his head. The man dropped, gouting blood and spilling brains, and Reiner found
that this small disobedience had broken the banner's hold on him. He could move.
The pistol's report had freed Franka and Giano as well. They stumbled back from the attacking
swordsmen, gasping and cursing, but Oskar, Pavel and Hals were still frozen, sagging bonelessly to the
ground. The swordsmen closed to cut them down.-Valnirs Bane, describing the effects and limitations
of an obedience banner. Of the books in the Bibliography section, this is the only one describing a
magical banner.
He turned to meet the mans attack, but no sooner had he raised his shield than a flickering black light
erupted from the dread banner and a terrific impact tore at him. His shield flared and crumbled to ash,
its edges hot and golden like parchment in a fire. The Legend of Sigmar
Mobility: 6
Khainite assassins are trained since birth to specialize in

stealth and murder. Combined with their own innate traits
the assassin becomes so skillful that even other Druichi
cannot compete. An assassin can run across the raised
spear points of a phalanx, move undetected by elven
hearing or exploit every weak point of armor or flesh
with each precise strike.
In the notoriously paranoid society of the Druichi, an

assassin can infiltrate and remain undetected in any
Druichi unit. They can do so for years, earning a small
degree of comradery with their comrades (as much as it
possible for a Druichi) before suddenly and bloodily
revealing themselves, either on the battlefield or in the barracks. Often they are secreted among these
units to pose a surprise for emy wizards or battlefield leaders. Assassins are sadistic and take great joys
in using every means at their disposal to kill a foe over days if they are able.
To aid in this they are master and creative poisoners. With but a glancing blow by one of their blades
hearts might be induced to explode, brains to rupture and bones shatter. To illustrate further the
creativity of Druichi poisons in Archaon: Everchosen he had an underling that sought to poison him. The
manner from which he did so was to poison Archaons blade, seemingly to make it more deadly.
However in the last moments the enemy would breathe out fumes onto the chaos warlord that, while
not deadly the first couple times, would accumulate after several hundred such slayings making Archaon
stupider, more wrathful and bloodthirsty. By several thousand he was cationic and the Druichi was
temporarily able to kill Archaon (before his soul rebelled and he came back, albeit with the help of
Tzeentch).
Specific poisons include the Black Lotus poison which makes enemies delusional and insane (probably a
variant was used with Archaon). Dark Venom makes it so the enemy suffers an extremely gruesome,
drawn out death while manbane enables the slightest scratch
to be fatal. The Dark Elves exported poisons from all over the
world and as such have available herbs that can kill
instantaniously or take hours to subteley work into the
bloodstream.
Offensive: Throwing knives, caltrops and all sorts of blades.

Some might carry a Repeater handbow or a magical weapon.
All weapons are poisoned and the assassin can be considered
a master of martial arts.
Defensive: Exceptional dodging ability including the ability to

strike arrows out of the air and sometimes a magical defense.
They also have basic healing magic according to the Darkblade
chronicles and very minor magic.
Rarity: Even when the Druichi had their own full kingdom this was an exceptionally rare unit. Now, with
Ulthuan and Naggarond in shatters and Hellebron inflicting massive causalities on her own troops, they
might be a handful left. Presumably far rarer than Skaven assassins.
Below is an except from the Jahamas Lesson, where the assassin caries out a successful assassination
attempt on his (true) target.
THE WIND HAD been Jahama's friend. It gusted and eddied and stung the skin in a way that reminded
him of the training grounds outside Ghrond. And it would also break up his scent and stop more than a
scrap of it reaching the giant hunting-hounds that seemed to be tethered outside every farmer's cottage
he passed. He had rubbed his tunic and plastered his hair with the oil that Bretonnians used on their
leather jerkins and tack, and that confused them further: he had triggered nothing more than the
occasional puzzled, hesitant bark. Had this been Naggaroth, these ones would have been dead in their
sleep at their own brothers' hands five times over, with guards that soft.
()
It took him ten minutes to circle about them, triple-checking every bush and shadow for a third hidden
watcher. There were none. Jahama shrugged out of his cloak and bundled the thick material into a
parchment-thin hide envelope - wet, it would cling to him and weigh him down. Then he slipped into the
water and darted eel-quick across to the far bank, pulling his cloak about him again as he listened
intently. His breathing had not quickened; his face showed nothing but quiet concentration. There were
fresh horse tracks on this side of the river, meaning night-time patrols, but he could hear no hooves and
so he began to move again. The hillside below the Due's castle was bare and he was grateful for the lack
of moonlight: invisible in the dark, he looked up at the black bulk of the castle and grinned.
()
but if they corkscrewed in the wind... Guillaume frowned. He must have strained a muscle or something -
there was a sharp pain in his neck. And then his legs crumpled under him.
Jahama fielded the halberd before it could clatter on the stones and slid his stiletto free of Guillaume's
body, then took a deep breath of chilly air. The moment in a mission when there was no more need for
secrecy and he was free to kill was always the most delicious one. He flicked the blood from his knife,
selected a broader, heavier blade for his other hand and looked around.
The wooden roof inside the gatehouse, that would be the stables. Important work: a little poison dust
scattered there and any surviving knights would be without mounts come the dawn
()
THREE HUMANS IN the little cobbled yard around the well: a pair of servants drawing water and a valet
relieving himself against the wall. Running and leaping, Jahama passed over the well and between the
two servants who dropped without ever seeing the blades that had cut them. A twist in mid-air and he
rolled into a lunging double thrust that caught the valet in sternum and throat as he turned. The man fell
with his hands still tangled in his breeches and Jahama was away.
Light and noise emanated from the windows of the servants' hall, and Jahama flicked the stiletto back
into his sleeve and grabbed a little wooden stool sitting by a wall. A sweep of a long arm sent it crashing
through the shutters and the first of them came milling out of the door a moment later, silhouetted
sharp against the firelight. Jahama could have dropped five of them in as many heartbeats with
throwing-blades, but he was already bounding up the steps to the walkway that led to the Grail chapel.
Its heavy doors stood ajar, throwing out candlelight, and two figures stood outside them, hands on
sword-hilts. One grey head, one blond. Harsh human syllables grated on Jahama's ears.
'An argument or something. It's the servants. Shall we finish our prayers, father?'
They peered out, eyes adjusting to the gloom. The old one was no threat, but the young one would be
one of the Due's warriors. There was power in his frame and he held his sword with casual ease.
He ran at them and pirouetted by the young knight to take his father with a low, flat backhanded stroke.
The old knight fell to his knees, wheezing in agony and as the son turned to try to swing Jahama made a
dainty slash just above his eyes. The cut was shallow but the flow of blood was blinding. The knight
staggered, wiping his face with one hand and roaring as Jahama neatly finished his pirouette, leapt
straight up and swung onto the chapel roof.
He must have knocked over a lantern in the servants' quarters; the firelight was much brighter and
people were running with shouts and wet sacks. One or two had even come to the door of the main hall
where horns and loud singing were still blaring. In front of the chapel, the young knight was screaming.
Jahama knew enough Bretonnian to catch ''Father!'' and ''Murderer!'' before he slipped a noose over a
roof-gable and slid down the thin cord to the cobbles on the far side.
A boy was peering out of a high window at the commotion, and Jahama took the opportunity to flick a
throwing-needle up and into him. The motion caught the eye of someone at the servants' hall - the fire
was all but out but the crowd was growing - and at the first shout of ''Who goes there?'' Jahama was
running again, flitting sparrow-quick past the open door to the feasting hall with his blowpipe rising to
his lips.
'Marius?' from behind him, then, more urgently, 'Marius? Marius!' In motions so practised they were
unconscious, his left hand stowed his blowpipe back at his thigh and re-drew his cleaving knife. His other
sheathed the stiletto and tugged the cord that opened a pack at his hip and sent a dozen small steel
caltrops tinkling onto the steps behind him. The man at the hall's entrance had dragged his crumpled
companion away and now more figures were pouring out, from the hall and the tower, and shouts were
going around the walls. Jahama grinned, now things would begin in earnest.
()
THERE WAS A howl behind him: someone rousted out of bed had been the first to cross the caltrops and
hadn't put on his boots. Jahama laughed loudly for a few moments to give them his location then hurled
himself down the cloister alongside the hall and through the first door he found.
A stifling kitchen, cooks banking the coals in the roasting-pits now that the feast was finally done. Good.
Jahama's arm described a curt quarter-circle and two fell back with slivers of steel in their necks, then he
vaulted a chopping-block, plucked the cleaver from it and drove it into a serving-man's shoulder. Almost
without thought his fingers picked a loose-weave sachet of Tuern's Curse - one of the few poisons he had
bothered to bring - and tossed it into the stewpot as a surprise for them later, then he turned as the
knights poured in behind him.
All were unarmoured, but all were armed: a dozen drawn swords and perhaps half that many axes and
maces. All weapons needing a wind-up and space to swing. If he could get in among them, getting back
out to the courtyard would be an easier matter.
They were rushing at him, the young one he'd cut in front of the chapel in the lead wearing a mask of
blood and tears. Jahama took a moment to wonder how he looked to them - a head taller than they but
slender even with his cloak and cowl about him, narrow-faced and steel-eyed even by Naggarothi
standards. The dying fires seemed to give everything a lushness, a depth, and turned his assassin's cloak
into a pit that drank the light. Then Jahama stopped thinking, gave a nonchalant flick of his arm that
threw a line over a roofbeam, and swung neatly up over their heads.
They were quicker than he expected and a sword-point caught the hem of his cloak, but it was too light a
touch to slow him and he somersaulted in the air to land lightly behind the men who had run at him.
Someone cannoned into him and for a moment he almost lost his balance, but it was no real difficulty to
turn and trap the man's leg just so. The knight's knee snapped as he fell forward into the others. Jahama
whipped the edge of his hand expertly into the next man's jaw, sending him choking as another bared his
teeth and swung a mace. In the second it took the assassin to shift his balance inside the swing the haft
had caught him above the ear and with a snarl to match his attacker's Jahama arced his knife up and
lunged. His reflex was to take out the man's throat before he could balance for another swing until he
remembered what he was here for, just in time to reverse the stroke and smash the weighted pommel
into the man's temple. He would live.
Jahama placed his hands on the staggering knight's shoulders as though he were about to deliver a
double-cheek Bretonnian kiss of comradeship, then he spun the man about, pushed off and drove both
his feet into the face of the first of the squires to come running through the far door. The boy went down
unconscious or dead and Jahama turned the movement into a backward roll, swiped a knife through the
hamstrings of the second squire and ran through into the great hall.
Almost empty, now, a handful of cowering servants the only ones left. A great bestigor head leered from
the wall and captured banners hung from the ceiling. Jahama thought of looking for any he recognised
but there was no time. Horns were blowing outside, and the counterpoint of booted feet was
everywhere. The knights were on his heels again, far too many to fight now - Jahama was starting to
think he had done his work a little too well.
()
'ASSASSIN!' THE VOICE filled the room and seemed to thrum in the stones.
Standing on one of the long trestle tables, Jahama turned and stared. In the doorway, almost filling it, his
knights assembled behind him, the man he had been sent here for. The Due, his iron-grey hair flowed to
his shoulders and his greatsword looked like a rapier in his hands. His scarlet and white tunic caught the
torchlight.
'Only vermin stab and flee in the night. Can you not fight a knight of the Lady, you that hide in the
shadows and murder children and old men? Let me look you in the eye. Do yourself one service in your
degenerate life: die a proper death.'
The man had taken a step into the room and the knights were spreading out around him, watchful but
not attacking. Jahama realised they were waiting for the duel between their lord and their invader.
The Due had taken up a fighting stance. His bare arms were heavy with muscle: to an eye used to slender
elf limbs he seemed to vibrate with power. Jahama's knives felt like sticks in his hands, felt like nothing.
He took a deep breath.
Voices in his memory. The Lord: you are to be the knife we draw tonight, the core and pivot of my
stratagem. Lady Miharan: Remember only what it is you have to achieve. He took a deep breath.
Then he swept his arm in a single, careful throw that drove his last throwing-blade through the heart of
one of the damsels huddling by the fire, gave the Due his most winning smile and polite bow, and was
gone into the courtyard.
TWO MEN-AT-ARMS RAN to block him. Jahama flew by them without seeming to slow or even to strike
until one after another they dropped to the cobbles. Everywhere he looked in the courtyard there were
soldiers closing about him, he fixed his eyes on the gate and opened his stride to the longest. For one
agonising moment he thought he would have to climb back to the parapet and back down the line he
had cast to scale the walls, but then he saw the little gatehouse door. Instinct made him swerve and jag
as he ran at it, and the archers on the walls sent their arrows down to crack against the cobbles. Then
the bar to the little inset gate clattered to the ground behind him - one last move to make. He worked it
loose from his belt and dropped it just where they would run in pursuit of him. Then he ran, swerved, and
made a long dive that carried him almost to the far edge of the moat. A single stroke and he was surging
up the far bank, a shadow among shadows even as the first rumours of dawn began to touch the eastern
sky.
I have put my neck down across the block and lifted it away clean, he thought. The wind now gone, he
heard voices behind him from the gate and allowed himself a single backward look. He could just make
out one man peering after him and another standing hunched over, staring at something on the ground.
The little waterproof pouch with the parchment map inside. Jahama laughed then, almost doubling over
before he heard the horns behind him and sped up again. He thought they would have better things to
do than hunt him now.
()
A noise nagged at the edge of his hearing and he turned his head this way and that, trying to place it.
Cries? No. Birdsong? Too harsh. The only thing it sounded like, it couldn't be. Miharan's assassin had
seen to it. He craned around again trying to see the little witch elf, but her palanquin had fallen further
behind as they rode out from the Ark. As far as he could tell she was still back in the forest that the road
had just emerged from.
His cold one raised its head and grunted at the air, and he turned to grab the goad from its saddle-clip.
Only then did he see what his soldiers were staring at, and understand the noise he had heard.
The war-horns on the hilltop ahead of them gave another blast, and the glittering ranks of armoured
knights sent up a shout as the scarlet and silver Grail banner of the Due unfurled over their heads.
Khreos, gaping, could only clutch at his lance as a babble of orders rose behind him, cries as his corsairs
milled about into fighting ranks, as the crossbow regiments scrabbled for bolts, as his champions tried to
awaken the Blood Banner to bring their cold ones to full frenzy.
And then hissing clouds of arrows flew high into the air, line after line of yeomen and Squires rounded
the base of the hill and the Bretonnians were thundering down the road toward them like a floodtide.
()
KHREOS MALEDICT, LORD of Karond Kar, Master of the Black Ark Exultation of Blighted Hope, was dying.
'I'm sorry, lord, was this not what you had planned?'
Khreos managed a single dry croak that would not become words. He could think of nothing to say.
'I would give you your map back, my lord, except that, oh, I seem to have misplaced it. Perhaps that was
careless of me, but then who would have expected that a clumsy brute such as the Due - with his castle
full of sleeping babes that a single assassin could kill - would be able to read a map that showed the road
by which you would be marching to his castle? Perhaps I should have memorised the land and the
rendezvous position, rather than carry a map that showed me how to find my way-right... to... you.'
Khreos groaned and closed his eyes. Jahama was paring his nails with a knife.
'Oh, yes, after I'd finished dancing with them I was sure the Bretonnians would have been too stirred-up
to read anything, let alone a map. But then how would I have delivered my lesson?' The assassin rolled
over onto his stomach, his face next to the lord's. 'You are so fond of your lessons, my lord, always so
intent on giving instruction. Haven't we done you a service, my mistress and I? Think of the lesson you
will be remembered for! Imagine it! Anyone who thinks of the kind of stupid, clumsy little ruse...' Jahama
had started to spit his words, and controlled himself. 'Anyone who thinks to treat myself or my brothers
or the blessed Brides of Khaine as their sling-stones, their expendable pawns, will remember the lesson
we have made of you.'
He sprang to his feet. 'My mistress could have refused you, you know. She discussed it with her sisters,
discussed this petty noble who thought he could make her dance on his strings. But then... then you
would have gone on in your tricky little ways, believing you could try to betray the Scorpion's Daughter
and never be the worse for it. So why not fall in step with you, sir, dance on your strings until we could
turn about and strangle you with them? I don't have your mincing subtlety and I must be blunt. It's
important that you understand just why you die as you do.'
The lord's face was twisted in despair, and Jahama nodded in satisfaction.
Mobility: 5
Max & Effective Range: Artillery/Spell

Almost six thousand years ago,

Morathi founded the insidious Cult of
Pleasure in the lands of Nagarythe. It
was a good time for the Elves under
the leadership of the King Bel Shanaar,
the lands of Ulthuan flourished. The
Elves ruled the seas, and explored the
great oceans of the world. Wealth
flowed back to Ulthuan and the cities
were beautiful and adored with great treasures from every corner of the globe. Some scholars believed
that the Elves became complacent in their indolence and luxurious living, and it was due to this that the
Cult spread through all facets of live, all across Ulthuan.
At first, the Cult was tolerated as merely an indulgence. And why shouldn't the Elves indulge themselves,
many thought, after so many years of strife and pain. Nevertheless, as the years rolled by, the Phoenix
King became worried about the hold the Cult was gaining over his populace. It was widely known that
the sacrifice of living beings had become a part of the Cults activities, and the dark name of Slaanesh
was increasingly associated with it. Having fought so hard for so many years against direct attacks, the
Elves had welcomed the cancerous hand of Chaos into its midst.
Thus resulted the catastrophic civil wars of the Sundering. Brother turned on brother as the Cult became
outlawed and its members persecuted. This tore the nation apart irrevocably, and the Cult slipped
further into depravity. An age of tragedy and conflict began, and Morathi, as the High Priestess of the
Cult, and her once fair son Malekith, now driven mad with jealousy and pain and reborn as the dread
Witch King, were at its heart. Daemons were their consorts, and they and their kin were from then on
known as the Dark Elves.
After the Sundering the Dark Elves- supporters of Maleketh- fled to Naggarond there to plot revenge for
thousands of years. During this time the Cult was outlawed and replaced with the Cult of Khaine.
However though outlawed the cult remained, entrenched, in secret for many years, avoiding attempts
to root it out entirely. Morathi too was rumored to lead the cult in secret and quite a few sorceresses
had joined. As the Darkblade series attests the cult remained particularly popular among the highborn
of Druichi society, who were as always eager to explore outside traditional boundaries.
However in the End Times this was revealed to be merely a means through which Morathi could gain a
measure of power. When she saw a means through which she might become the incarnation of a
goddess, she thought that means instead. Never numerous to begin with, the cult joined the servants of
Chaos during the End Times. According to Josh Reynolds they fought in Brettonia alongside Sigvald, in
particular taking part of the sack of Parravon.
The Cult of Slaanesh commands many daemons and men of chaos, lured or bargained into service with
the various
See Druichi Warriors, but may come equipped with marks of Slaanesh.
The Shades, who call themselves Autarri , are the feral Dark Elves,
inhabitants of the unforgiving depths of the Land of Chill. To survive, the
Autarri have become almost supernatural scouts, able to silently stalk
the densest forest or most treacherous canyons in the search of their
prey. Their marksmanship is also superior to that of a trained Druchii
crossbowman, while they can easily match the hated Shadow Warriors in
the use of the blade. Foolish is the Dreadlord who doesn't include them
in his army if he gets the chance; for while the Shades are happy to
exchange wild beasts for the enemy soldiers, there simply aren't enough
of them to satisfy the demand.
In combat they are excellent scouts, ambushers and guerrilla fighters.
Offensi ve: Everyone is armed with a repeater crossbow, which are often
poisoned. Many also have all manner of blades. Some come equipped
with the Mark of Slaanesh.
Defensive: Light leater armor.
In the grim days when armies of Daemons besieged Ulthuan,

keen-eyed messengers from Nagarythe kept guard for any
signs of a daemonic intrusion. These Dark Riders wore cloaks
of black feathers, invoking the raven-headed god Nethu to
keep them hidden from the eyes of the enemy. During the civil
war, the Dark Riders earned a more sinister reputation. They
travelled ahead of Nagarythe's hosts, sowing terror and
confusion wherever they rode, burning villages and driving
their people into the wilds.To this day, Dark Riders are
messengers and pillagers both, carrying tidings between the
great cities of Naggaroth, or else riding deep into other lands as harbingers of destruction. Their horses,
once pureblood steeds of Nagarythe, are now so twisted by magic and torture that they have become
something altogether more malevolent and ravenous.
In battle, Dark Riders take delight in skirting the enemy flanks to attack war machines and cut lines of
supply. They revel in the prospect of running down terror-stricken victims, dragging out every moment
of wild panic as long as possible before delivering the final heart-seeking strike.
Offensive: Hand weapons, spears, some might come with repeater crossbows. Can come with Marks of
Slaanesh.
Defensive: Light leather and sometimes a shield.
Cold One Knights count themselves amongst the finest warriors in Naggaroth.
They are nobles of great wealth and ambition, whose warrior instincts elevate
them far beyond the upstart cavalrymen of lesser races. The knights' weapons
are the finest that can be bought in the great cities: long swords enchanted in
such a manner as to never lose their edge, and tall lances sharp enough to
pierce the hide of a Dragon. Their mounts, too, are superior to those of other
lands; no horse, no matter how well-trained or carefully bred, could ever hope
to match the savagery of a Naggarothi Cold One.
It is a daring Dark Elf who takes a Cold One for a steed, for the lizards savagely attack all who come near
them, recognizing warm-blooded creatures as prey by the smell alone. This is dangerous in itself, and no
few strutting nobles have been savaged by their own mounts, much to the amusement of their rivals. To
avoid this, the Dark Elf must anoint himself repeatedly with the Cold One's own foul-smelling slime so
that the beast will accept him. There is a great price to pay for the Dark Elf, though, for the fumes of this
noxious balm are extremely potent, burning the nostrils, numbing the skin and destroying taste-buds, so
that the rider can no longer smell or taste food, or feel a lover's touch. So it is that a Cold One is not only
a fearsome war-mount, but also a declaration of bravery and ambition on the part of the knight. For
many Dark Elves, this heavy price is considered one worth paying, for in doing so a warrior proves his
dedication to the Witch King and can
earn great political as well as physical
reward.
A fully armed and armoured Cold One

Knight carries a long lance known as a
Kheitain (Soul Eater), wears a reinforced
helm and full-length armour, and on his
arm is slung a shield carrying the device
of his house. Though they are few in
number, the charge of the Cold One
Knights is a decisive weapon which can
win the battle at a crucial moment.
Offensive: Lances, Swords. The Cold One itself is a giant, sometimes forty foot long velociraptor. Also
comes with Marks of Slaanesh. The captain, the Dreadknight, might have a minor magical item.
Defensive: Plate mail and shield.
Dark Elf Leaders are typically drawn from the Dark Elf nobility
and lead their armies in search of gold, slaves and arcane
artifacts to bring home to Naggaroth. They are cold and
ruthless killers and they command the respect of their troops
through assassination and terror. They have attained their
position of leadership by eliminating rival nobles who stand in
their way and through their remarkable cunning, they are
dangerous foes who embody the merciless traits of the Druchii
race.
Ambitious, bored and with plenty of power at their disposal, the nobles of the Druichi, like their human
equivalents, have always been particularly suceptable to the call of chaos. Power-hungry and
suceptable to the same emotional extremes of other elves, many highborn might find the calls of
Slaanesh to be tempting indeed. Add to this is the Druichi delusion that they can control Chaos rather
than the other way around.
Offensive: Essentially any Druichi weapon they want. They might also have low grade magical items.
They can ride powerfully built Dark Elven steeds or cold ones into battle.
Defensive: Light or heavy plate armor, with possibly a shield. Might have a magical pendant.
A deviation of the normal Elven Repeater Bolt Thrower, Reaper
Bolt Throwers are used at sea to clear the decks of enemy vessels,
and on land to scythe down ranks of enemy warriors. A
mechanism of counterweights and cords allows the Reaper to
shoot a hail of bolts, or a single missile with force enough to
pierce a Dragon's hide. A Reaper's bolts are barbed and difficult
to remove from the wounds they inflict. Those injured -- but not
slain -- by such a shot often suffer such horrendous maiming on
the bolt's removal that they are worthless as slaves, and are therefore left to bleed to death or given
over to the bloody caresses of the Witch Elves.
As a war machine, the Reaper is manned by a crew of Dark Elves. It can fire either as an ordinary bolt
thrower, or can instead fire six smaller repeating bolts at a range of 50 meters, with all bolts aimed at a
single target, though with less force. The Druichi crewman are well known for their incredible accuracy,
capable of easily downing a giant at several hundred yards.
Offensive: Reaper Bolts. The crew would likely be armed with hand weapons.
Defensive: Crew has light leather armor.
Elves have a natural affinity for the shifting Winds of Magic. In the
ancient days, they learnt the secrets of manipulating this mystical
power from the Slann, the most powerful servants of the Old Ones. Yet
for all their expertise, there was always a limit to the amount of power
the Elves could harness - the risk of madness and spiritual corruption
prevented them from delving deeper into the power of Chaos.[
It was Morathi who first ventured into this forbidden territory. Through
dark rituals and bloody sacrifices, she moulded the energies of Chaos
to her bidding. With this sorcery - the unrefined power of magic -
Morathi soon began to weave enchantments and spells whose raw power far outstripped anything the
Elves had previously known. To this day, Dark Elves study the sorcerous arts, utterly seduced by the
unrestrained energy it allows them to command.
Once, long ago, a ancient prophecy claimed that a dark king would be killed by a male sorcerer. As a
result Maleketh had long banned male sorcerors on pain of death however a few do exist, just in hiding.
The Dark Magics of sorcery are but one of the disciplines studied by the Sorceresses of Ghrond, and they
can call upon the Lores of Battle Magic with just as much skill as the stiff-souled mages of Ulthuan.
Enemies can be immolated by whirling fire storms, turned to crystal by swirling purple energies, torn
limb from limb by elementals, blasted apart by lightning or transmuted into solid gold. All the while, the
sorceress laughs with wicked delight, her castings becoming wilder as the joy of battle overtakes he r.
The Druichi sorceresses utilize Dhar magic, which is the mashing together of the varied color magics
(fire=red, white= light) into something unharmonious, dangerous and unholy. This is the type of magic
that is inherently malovelent, always seeking out those who bear ill-will towards others . It is also
inherently corruptive and over time will drive someone into psychosis and self-obsesssion.
Spells for this lore include, in order from least powerful (and thus requiring less magic to cast) to most.
Please read the Storm of Magic section in Appendixes for mechanics on magic.
Single to Small Group:
Witch Flight - A howling wind picks up the caster and

carries them into the sky. They are carried rapidly across
the land, coming back to earth at a spot they select within
100 yards of where they started. They cannot change their
chosen destination once the spell is cast. This spell cannot
be used indoors
Dark Hand of Destruction - Talons of dark energy sprout

from the fingertips of one of the caster's hands, and can
be used as a weapon in hand-to-hand combat. When the caster hits an opponent with the Dark Hand, it
ignores non-magical armour. Once damage has been caused once, the spell is dispelled
Death Spasm - A bolt of darkness flies from the caster's fingertips to hit one individual. The spasms are
so violent that they injure other around the target at half the target's strength. A relatively weak spell
that is not extremely fatal.
Soul Drain - The caster calls down a thunderstorm from a clear sky to engulf one small group within 48
yards. The caster gains in their own health the more people in that group are injured. Normal armour
offers no protection.
Army Spells
Power of Darkness - The caster draws unstable power from the Realm of Chaos to empower their spells
as well as their minions. Targeted on a single friendly unit nearby.
Doombolt - The caster hurls a bolt of blazing black fire at his foe. Has a range of 100 meters and can
potentially affect dozens of soldiers. Can be upgraded, by putting in additional magical energy, to 500
meters.
Chillwind - The wizard assails an enemy unit with a freezing gale. Has a range of 300 meters.
Bladewind- Essentially the same thing as above, with the same range, but with sharp floating blades.
Those that dont block get slashed by armor preircing weaponry.
Word of Pain - As the caster utters a forbidden name, the enemy find their limbs wracked with crippling
pain. Can be cast upon a unit at a range of 300 meters. Generally not fatal but incredibly debilating
when it comes to fighting correctly.
Shroud of Despair - At the casters command, light is driven from the battlefield( everything within 50
meters) and numbing darkness rushes to fill the void.
Soul Stealer - Tendrils of pure, solidified darkness writhe out from the wizards outstretched hands,
draining the life force from their hapless enemies to renew their own vigour. Targeted on a single enemy
unit within 100 meters, the actual range of the life drain has a potentially 25 yard radius.
Arnzipal's Black Horror - The caster tears down the walls between realities, and a black cloud of roiling
energy sweeps across the battlefield. As the darkness travels, slimy tentacles lash out from its depths,
dragging unfortunate victims screaming to an unknown fate. The spell can be cast within 300 meters
and has a radius of potentially dozens of meters. If miscast this spell kills those who cast it and those
around it.
End Times Magic:
Oblivion(Equillibrium) - To a Dark Elf Sorceress, an Arcane Fulcrum is more than a conduit of power; it is
unparalleled destruction, just waiting to be unleashed and annihilate any near it. Essentially, causes a
several dozen meter explosion on a arcane fulcrum. Has a rangeo f 50 meters.
Arnizipal's Dimensional Door(Dominance) - Scattering a vial of innocent blood upon the churned
ground, the Sorceress opens a doorway to the realm beyond. Drawn to the mortal plane, unspeakable
creatures reach forth their tendrils to claim what victims they can before the gateway collapses. Has a
range of dozens of meters but very deadly if miscast.
Offensive: Hand weapon. May use the Lores of Dhar (see above), Fire, Shadow and Death. May ride
steed of Slaanesh
Defensive: Magic. Wears very little of anything, much less armor.

When the Cult of Slaanesh was first outlawed thousands of years ago, some fled to the Realm of Chaos,
there to meet battle with the denizens of the Realms of Chaos, and experience every sensation possible.
As passing centuries turned to passing millennia, the numbers of these now supremely powerful beings,
know as the Anointed, dwindled, so that only a handful remained. Unlike other races, Elves are resistant
to the physically mutating taint of Chaos, yet over so many years of exposure, the touch of Chaos began
to affect them in other ways. Overloaded with sensations and craving more, their pupils dilated to such
an extent that their eyes appeared as complete blackness. The skin of some of the Anointed turned
translucent and blue tinged - others, their flesh turned ebony. They exude terrifying strength, and are
capable of unnatural feats of Daemonic power.
Offensive: May be wizards trained in either the Lore of Dark Magic or Slaanesh. Can be equipped with
repeater crossbows, great weapons , or lances. They might also be mounted on a giant Cold One or
Steed of Slaanesh. Comes equipped with the Mark of Slaanesh.
Defensive: Shields and some magical defenses.
According to Josh Reynolds (and somewhat in line with their potrayals in the Darkblade series) Chaos
Elves would be the purest personification of excess and viciousness, combined with a nomadic
lifestyle.Like the Chaos dwarfs, the worst traits of their race would become the driving force behind
their existence. They'd attack and conquer cities just to have someplace to party for a few weeks, before
moving on when they'd used everything (and everyone) up. He called them gaudy murder-hoboes .
The comparison between they and the Dark Eldar is that between a forest fire and a controlled burn, for
the Dark Eldar only seek to stave off Chaos, not feed it through every moment.
If the numbers of the Cult of Blood were low, the Cult of Pleasure are likely even lower in the small
thousands. I would not expect more than a single coven (6) sorceresses.
Mobility: 5
Max Range: Spell
At the top of the Ogre hierarchy are the so-called Tyrants,

which are usually the biggest, strongest and hungriest orcs
of the tribe. Legends surround these individuals like flies to
a corpse, with tales including tyrants successfully wrestling
giants to the ground, pummeling through fortified castle
gates with just their fists, wrestling mighty daemons and
more. Every tale begins with a rise through merit and
strength rather than inherited right, for to become a tyrant
the aspirant must successfully wrestle the previous tyrant-
sometimes their own fathers- to death and then consume
the corpse left behind.
All Ogres are greedy, but none more so than a Tyrant. A gnawing hunger drives Ogres to feats of greed
and nobody embodies this insatiable, gluttonous behaviour more than a Tyrant. The longer he holds the
title of Tyrant, the more ravenous an Ogre leader becomes, and a Tyrant's desires go beyond just food
to also include hoarded wealth and power. The oldest and most powerful Tyrants can possess a truly
diverse assortment of weapons and armor, ranging from shark-tooth weapons of the islands, Cathayan
longswords, Empire pistol-bracers and magical Arabian artifacts.
Right below the Ogre Tyrant stands the Bruiser, who is essentially the Tyrants enforcer for the tribe.
These towering individuals are usually composed of the next couple of strongest ogres of the tribe and
are tasked with bullying the rest of the tribe in line during times of conflict. They arent always popular
for this reason, and sometimes the bullied ogre will fight back. In the unlikely event the challenger wins
hell take the old bruisers place; if not the challenger is usually
eaten. Occasionally a Bruiser will try to challenge the Tyrant for
leadership of the tribe however, for the most part, they are chosen
for their loyality, low-ambition and, often, stupidity.
Such traits should not detract from the knowledge that an Ogre
Bruiser is a mighty opponent, many are veterans of the Maneaters
and have fought across the world. Regardless of ambition to lead
the tribe, bruisers nevertheless carry the Ogres love of boasts.
Many Bruisers will seek to grow their reputations by performing
great feats of slaughter upon a battlefield. Nothing suits a Bruiser
better than being the one who singlehandedly turned a fight
around. Stopping a chariot with their bellies, breaking entire
formations by themselves or squishing the life out of the enemy's
mightiest champion are the kinds of deeds that a Bruiser must do
to build up his name! With the exception of the Tyrant, Bruisers get
the pick of the spoils and equip themselves with the best gear of
war, including outlandish items plundered from afar.
Arguably the most important figure of the Ogre leadership is the Butcher. These hulking ogres, the only
type not to wear any form of gut-plate, carry within them a blessing from the Great Maw, the ability to
call upon its gastronomical magic to devastating effect on the battlefield. More holy man than mage,
these walking larders so called because of the myriad butchers instruments and animal body parts
that come strapped to their body- are individuals even tyrants are afraid to cross.
Butchers are reared from birth to their positions and by adulthood they possess the most powerful,
durable gut around. They can eat things that would ravage, even kill other Ogres and can survive even
arcane poisons that would wither a man in seconds. They also learn the art of grinding bones to meal,
and discovering which parts of a beast to devour to augment different magics. This gastronomic
fortitude is a great source of respect from the rest of the tribe, who believe that to cross a Butcher is to
cross the Great Maw itself and therefore doom themselves to premature reincarnation as a hot and
nourishing stew.
One of the rarest holy warriors of the Ogres is a Firebelly. These shamans worship the embodiment of
their volcano filled land and, in order to earn the dietys blessing, must undergo a long and dangerous
trial. At the height of this trial they must accomplish a feat that not even a tyrant would boast about and
would even intimidate a butcher; they must consume molten lava. Such an act would kill any other ogre
that tries however, if the Ogre is successful they gain the power of flame.
The survival and subsequent initiation of a new Firebelly happens perhaps a few times every decade,
and often coincides with a major outburst of flame from the Fire Mouth itself. This is seen as a sure
signal that it is time to make war on the lands of the weak, with the size of the battles to come
coinciding with the strength of the eruption. In war, the Firebellies are well equipped to aid the Ogres,
for the disciples of the volcano inherit supernatural powers. Firebellies bear a measure of protection
against the fiercest conflagrations, can breathe out an inferno upon their foes and can even cast and
control flaming spells. They are however extremely rare, with only a handful being made every decade
and few of those would serve Chaos.
Offensive: Tyrants can have weapons from all over the

world, courtesy of their traveling. These include Great
Warpons, Ironfists, braces of pistols and numerous magical
artifacts. They might also have a Rhinox or Mouringfang
mount.
Bruisers generally have normal clubs and such weapons,

however they might also have great weapons, ironfists,
pistols or other such diverse weapons. They get second pick
after the Tyrant and thus might have some magical artifacts.
Butchers carry hand weapons (probably a large butchers

cleaver) and can use the Lore of Heavens (see Staly the
Faithless, hero profile), Beasts, Death or the Great Maw as
level 1-2 wizards. The greatest, the Slaughtermasters,
count as level 3-4 wizards. The Lore of the Great Maw is
described below.
Firebllies are all wizards capable of breathing fire and count

as level 4 wizards in the Lore of Fire.
Defensive: Tyrants & Bruisers can wear either light leather or heavy plate armor, always with a very
distinctive gut-plate. Both might have some magical defense with, obviously, the Bruiser having the
best.
Butchers possess little armor, entrusting the Great Maw, however they are immune to all poisons.
Firebellies are almost immune to the fire that they consume.
Known to scholars of the Old World as Shamanic Victuals, Gastromancy, Thaumaphagy, Corpomancy or
the Lore of the Great Maw, Gut Magic is quite unlike the arcane arts used by human
wizards. Ogre Butchers use shamanic rites that revolve around devouring parts of their victims, the
items acting as fetishes that channel the raw power of the Great Maw. These Gut Magic spells explain
why Ogre Butchers often appear to be walking larders, as to cast one of his shamanic spells the Butcher
must physically eat anything from a nice healthy heart to a stinking pile of guts. In this act, he
communes with the power of the Great Maw, taking some of it for himself and bestowing the rest upon
his comrades that they might run roughshod over their enemies, or inflicting painful curses upon the
heads of his foes .
As a result of his lores unique benefits, a Ogre Butcher may use this spell lore to restore some of his
own wounds after he successfully casts a spell. Below are the known spells of the Lore of the Great
Maw, from easiest to cast to most difficult.
- Spinemarrow - The Butcher holds up a gory spinal column and sucks out all the blood and
marrow to empower his companions. Essentially provides a morale boost to any unit within 50
meters.
- Bonecrusher - Shoveling a handful of ribs, skulls,
and femurs into his mouth, the Butcher crunches them
up even while he curses his foes, who immediately find
their own bones breaking with loud snapping sounds.
Cast on a single unit within 100 meters or, with
increased channeling, 500 meters.
- BullGorger: Greedily devouring the heart of a
bull Rhinox or Mournfang, the Butcher can project raw
vitality imbued by such a worthy sacrifice to the Great
Maw. This increases the strength of a single unit within
50 meters or, with increased casting power, all units
within 50 meters.
- Toothcracker: By consuming a hunk of tooth-
breaking granite, the Butcher bestows the rock's
resilience and the sturdiness of the mountains
themselves into his brethren. This increases the physical
toughness of a single unit within 50 meters or, with
increased casting power, all units within 50 meters.
- Braingobbler: Selecting a severed head attached
to one of the meaty hooks secured about his person, the Butcher chomps through the skull and
gobbles up the grey dainty within, projecting his victim's worst nightmares into the minds of his
enemies. Cast on a single unit within 100 meters or, with increased channeling, 500 meters. If
the enemy fails to resist the spell they flee.
- Trollguts - Downing the toxic and utterly repulsive innards of a Troll isn't easy, but by doing so a
Butcher can magically transfer the beast's supernatural healing ability onto himself or nearby
companions. The Ogres' wounds seem to stitch themselves together before the eyes of their
dumbfounded enemies. This can be cast on a single unit within 50 meters or, with increased
casting power, all units within 50 meters.
- The Maw - By consuming the better part of a large beast, the Butcher can summon the power of
the Great Maw itself, causing the ground to split wide open beneath an enemy and revealing a
tooth-lined, bottomless pit that hungrily snaps and snarls in anticipation of its next meal. Eternal
pain awaits any who fall within. The Maw can expand up to a couple dozen meters however, if
miscast, it opens up underneath the Ogres.
END TIMES Magic
- Feast of the Fallen - The Butcher smears his cleaver with a mixture of his own blood and that of
a foeman, ensuring that one will feed the other while the magic lasts. This extremely powerful;
spells is applied to all Ogre units on the battlefield and gives every ogre unit minor regeneration.
- The Great Maw Awakens - The Butcher joins his own hunger to the Great Maw's, conjuring a
bloody whirlpool of rock that sweeps across the battlefield swallowing enemies whole.
Spreading many dozens of meters this spell can swallow whole units whole if they dont get out
of the way. However if the Butcher messes up the spell, the Great Maw decides to take revenge
and tears through the Ogre army.
Mobility: Varies
Training/Experience: Usually really high
Max Range: Varies
Preferred Range: Varies
The Warhammer World is old, ancient even by the time of the

Old Ones. An unknowable number of species have risen,
flourished and died during that time. Some were destroyed by
the Old Ones in their quest to reorder the world to their liking.
Others were long ago destroyed by Chaos in the early days of
the first Chaos war. Still a few others lingered in the service of
Chaos, in such few numbers that the have been all but
forgotten by the world. But still they linger, emerging
periodically to inflict revenge on those young races that
outlived them. The Fimir, Dragon Ogres, Centuars are all
examples of these fallen races however they are a few more
rare breeds lurking in the world.
In the far off Hinterlands of Khuresh a ancient civilization rules a empire of terror. These Chaos-
worshipping snakemen are said to have lives so long that they measure an age of the world and a
quench for blood to put even vampires to shame. Once they held the entire world in terror though,
recently, they hafve fallen significantly and only continue to dominate Khuresh. In combat they are
renowned for their ability to control monsters including great hordes of venomous snakes, for their
seaborne attacks and insatiable bloodlust in combat.
Looking like a cross between a praying mantis and a locust, this insectoid race lived
before Chaoss official arrival in the world. They lived in vast hive structures and
ruled over an ancient Neanderthal race of man. However their race was brought
low by a combination of slave revolts, insurrection among the dominant classes
(because the Emperor pledged himself to Chaos), and an invasion from the
ancestors of the Dwarfs. Ultimately only the Insect-Emperor- cocooned in a
underground temple- survived.
He emerged thousands of years later and enslaved both a big Orc/Goblin clan and
much of a Dwarf hold. To spread his empire, the insect empire birthed pods full of
his own chaos ridden kin that would be used to spread his mind control across the world. Though these
creatures would have far less power than their sire, they would, nevertheless, be capable of some
degree of mind control.
In the far distant past a worm race once tunnled vast netwroks around the world, burrowing up from
the deepest parts of the earths crust. These worms formed tiher own little empire of sorts in the dawn
period of the world, before disappearing as Chaos invaded. Only recently, underneath the Druichi city of
Hag Grtief, did the last remnants of this race come forth to devastate the city under the command of a
Slaaneshi.
These worms are described as larger than the Nauglir- so around 40-50 feet-and those were just infants.
Iti s unknown how large a full grown specimen would be. These worms specialize in devastating
buildings and have the ability to exhude great heat and flame from their bodies against enemies.
It was then that Malus noticed the red glow staining the sky. The wind was warm and carried with it the
scent of smoke. Thunder rumbled and he felt the great tower shudder beneath him. Slowly, painfully, he
rose to his feet. The sigil was darkindeed, its quicksilver traceries had been burned black in the
monumental test of wills. The circle of witches glared at Malus with implacable hate, but no one moved
to stop him as he made his way to the towers edge.
Hag Graef was burning.

From where he stood, Malus could see collapsed buildings and pillars of fire rising high into the night sky.
Great arcs of glowing destruction cut through the narrow streets and districts. Steam rose from terrible
rents in the earth and the edges glowed with molten stone.
The rumble of thunder came again and this time Malus saw a gleam of pure yellow-white as a ribbon of
fire broke the surface of the ground and slid like a ruinous worm through the Blacksmiths Quarter.
Where the ribbon touched, stone melted and split and houses burst into flame. Sparks scattered beneath
the worms writhing course; it took but a moment for Malus to realise the sparks were the burning
bodies of people.
Mother of Night, Malus gasped. What has she done?
She has called up the Dreaming Ones, Eldire said. Nagaira has found a spell to disturb them from their
sleep and now they vent their rage on the city.
Dreaming Ones? Malus replied. A memory flowed across his minds eye of Nagairas acolytes stepping
soundlessly into darkness.
This is an old world, Eldire said. For all that we laugh at the foolishness of humans, we are little older
than they compared to the span of this worlds existence. Countless races have come and gone; empires
rose and fell aeons past that never knew the light of day. An empire of worms, some legends say, that
burrowed up from the burning heart of the world. She joined Malus, looking out at the devastation.
Some of their childrenmere infantsstill linger, slumbering in the deep places of the earth.
The burrows, Malus said, suddenly realising how the tunnels beneath the city had been made. Will
they destroy the city?
Eldire nodded. No stone will remain, which is why you must return to Nagaira and stop her. Reaper
of Souls
(Vampires of Zenidar. The Carrion Children would look like this, but uglier)
Training: 6-8
Mobility: 9 (Can fly and scale walls)
The Carrion Children are a lost bloodline that lives, almost exclusively, in the Great Desert of Araby.
They are descended from the Grand Chancellor Matmeses, once the Grand Vizer fled Neferatas
wrath (see hero profile) and started building an empire in Araby. He became obsessed with food
and it is his goal to make the world into a charnel pit, full of corpses and insects. His new
bloodline, the Carrion Children, eagerly follow this edict. They have begun this goal in Araby, where
the great desert provides a sort of cover for them to sneak back into if the mortals ally against them.
There they devour whole tribes, villages and caravans in single blood-soaked nights, akin to a
swarm of locusts.
This is not to say, however, that they are unknown in cities. Although they cannot pass for human,
with a burnoose and a face-scarf they can slink into the shadows without difficulty. Once inside the
cities they can spread their decay and death in more cunning ways, with poisoned blades and
stealthy assassinations. Slowly, they remove the citys power-base and cripple the guards, so that
they may safely open the gates for the rest of their brethren, all the ready for unrestrained
bloodshed. Despite their destructive natures, their prowess at killing remains prized, and foolish
princes continue to invite them into their cities to take care of their unassailable enemies.
The combined effect of their city intrigues and their locust like predations on the countryside and
trade caravans has had a terrible effect on the Arabyan Empire. Although they were slow to rise in
numbers, in the last millennia they have become a force as destructive to that land as the Chaos
marauders are to Kislev, and it is their very presence that led the once glorious Arabyan Empire to
collapse into fear, disorder and decadence. Now, only the four great coastal cities remain untouched
by the verminous fiends, and the Great Sultan has realized that his entire kingdom is on the brink of
destruction, if not already doomed. In desperation, he has sent emissaries to Estalia, Bretonnia,
Tilea and the Empire to beg for support, and heroes, to fight the terrible Mahtmasi. Only a fool
would go, of course, but the promise of honor and glory makes fools of many men
The Mahtmasi are horrid to look at, being terribly emaciated and having the traits of insects
from a chittering language to Bloodline-wide wings. Like their progenitor they have the strange
ability to sneak almost anywhere undetected, which greatly helps their assassinations and
attacks on settlements. Unique among the Bloodlines is that Mahtmasi have no individualistic
streak, and the Vampires live very close as a true family. They are loyal above all to their Chief, who
is loyal to Mahtmasi and travels to his cave when called. They celebrate often, gorging themselves
and frolicking in corpse piles, feasting on insects like cockroaches and maggots, or dancing covered
in viscera and swinging entrails.
Those who still feel lust pleasure themselves using dismemebered women, although a strange
Bloodline trait that survives from Maatmeses's lifestyle in Lahmia is some Mahtmasi being unable
to harm any pre-menopausal woman or even willingly inconvenience them. The entire
Bloodline also inherited Maatmeses's fear of Neferata, and the sight of cats terrifies them
instinctually. Since they were never involved with Nagash they didn't suffer the same curse as the
other Bloodlines, but instead suffer from a counting obsession, inability to enter someplace
uninvited (bribery helps with this one), fire, and allergy to certain metals. They still fear religious
symbols as well as sunlight and have no reflection.
Although they turn others into Vampires rarely, they do select the greatest warriors from groups
they destroy as well as proud nobility to turn.
Offensive: Claws, magically enchanted weapons and the like. Vampires are superhuman and are
many times stronger, faster and more agile than a man. They are probably insect themed, given the
theme of the faction. Some Matmasi can call sandstorms, turn themselves into a horde of biting
locusts or have wings while others would be necromancers. Mahtmasi are known for their extreme
stealth, evasion and assassination capabilities.
Defense: Vampires are much more durable than a man, usually requiring stakes in the heart and
the like.
There exist many minor daemons in Warhammer, too many, in fact, to count.
This maggot-like horror measures six feet inlength and is covered with thorny protrusions.Capable of
burrowing through solid stone, theChangeworm digs through the ground to formnests below populated
areas, visiting tragedy onthe townsfolk in the form of spontaneous mutation. Changeworms are also
blamed for blights, odd environmental phenomenon likesudden storms, odd odours, and and
disappearances. Whilst not all of these troublesrest on this Daemon, the corruption of land and flesh are
certainly within its power.
Essentially, this worm burrows under an enemy town and, slowly over a period of weeks, corrupts the
area (probably a couple miles). Those that sleep for eight hours over a burrowed corrupted worm are
at risk of mutation, extreme fatigue, Nerglish rot or extreme bloodlust, depending on the god that had
warped the worm. In order to destroy the worm, it must be dug out.
The Heirs of Change are an intermediary daemon of Tzeentch,

somewhere between the Herald and the Changer of Ways.
Heirs of Change have been called the eyes, ears and agents of
Tzeentch, for their specialization is in shapeshifting. Though
in their default form they look like miniature Changer of Ways,
their power over perception means that, when they shapeshift
they can make it so they are seen differently to each person
viewing them. For example a Dwarf may see a Dwarf, while the
Human he was with would look at a fellow human.
From its pursuit of schemes across space and time the Heir of
Change has adopted a deep malevolent cunning and twisted
instinct for manipulating the minds of the other races. It can
look into an individuals soul and promise them what they
desire most if only they work for (knowingly or not) Chaos and, specifically, Tzeentch. If caught
they count as minor magic users in the Lore of Tzeentch and have deadly claws and beaks.
Imps are the least of the least, minor Daemons that are born from loosed emotions. In their natural
state, they are amorphous things, endlessly cycling through a variety of shapes that seem to reflect the
thought or concept that birthed them. It is only when a Dark God claims an Imp that it becomes
something.Often they serve as familiars to sorcerors and cultists.
Imps are not all that powerful, but can inspire emotion in their immediate presence. Malice inspire rage
and hate filled thoughts, fearlings thoughts of rebelliousness and anarchy, bubos sickness and Muses
encourage their owners to reach to new heights. There is also the weird heresy imp which can call out
the corrupted in a crowd, though occasionally will make a false accusion. All imps are fairly weak
combatents, possessing only sharp teeth and maybe a tiny weapon.
These two parasitic daemons exist to prey upon the unwary and vulnerable. The Skinchanger stalks
persons currently suffering from great grief, the kind that comes from social rejection or loss of a loved
one.Though in their natural state skinchangers appear amorphous and pink, they are capable of
morphing into whatever form the mortal wants to see. If the mortal had lost a child, the Skinchanger
morphs into that child- if he is rejected by a women, it morphs into that women. There is magic behind
the transformation so unless the mortal has tough willpower s/he will believe the skinchanger to be his
or her loved one no matter how impossible that is.
It then hovers around that mortal, isolating them and slowly draining them of blood and lifeforce until
death. Once this is done it will finish the mortal and move onto the next. The Skinchangers allusions can
only affect one person at a time however and to friends the creature might appear repulsive. In combat
the skinchanger would wield weapons as a normal human can.
Though all daemons can potentially possess souls the ethereal Soulstealer specializes in it, however with
different mechanics. Instead of destroying the mortal soul this daemon specializes in corrupting it.
Taking the shape of a ethereal, smoky ghost it enters mortals through the nostrils and attempts to drive
them to great evil. Usually it will target those on the verge of corruption anyway and attempt to push
them over the edge however, failing that, it will attempt to corrupt a easily manipulated mortal like a
child. However this Soulstealer is much weaker than normal daemons and thus easier to fight off
(providing it doesnt sneak in when the mortal is sleeping).
While the focus of the Warhammer setting are vast army battles and incredible intrigue, navy
battles appear to be quite numerous in Warhammer, with
the followers of the Chaos Gods viewing as another means
to carry out their dark purpose. Often the scenarios
involving such naval warfare are Chaos attempting a
seaborne invasion, Norscan raids or even harassment of
enemy supply lines.
Some terminology before going forward
-Man OWar: This is essentially a capital ship or

battleship, a mighty vessel usually hard won and which has
an important figure in it. These ships are heavily armed
and usually include elite boarding crews -such as Huscarls,
Chaos Warriors or even Sorcerors. They are rarer by this virtue.
-Ship of the Line: These ships are more common and comprise the majority of the Chaos fleet.
They are usually lighter, faster and more expendable. The boarding crews here are usually going to
be something weak like Bondsmen and Chaos Cultists, which would have little armor if benefit from
being ferocious in combat.
-Sea Monsters: Simple enough. Summoned Sea monsters brought to battle by the mighty sorcerers
of Chaos!
Boarding Teams are quite common among Chaos which heavily favors melee combat. Chaos
vessels are also somewhat primitive compared to some other vessels among the setting, usually
relying on oarsmen and sails rather than steam engines or the like.
There are four total factions Chaos may draw upon the raiding Norse, the overpowering Chaos
Dwarfs, those rare Druichi turncouts and the Chaos Fleet proper.
The Norse are renowned and feared across the world across the world as excellent warriors and
sailors. Akin to the Vikings of our world, they are primarily a raiding and pillaging force. Their
ships have devastated the Kislev and Northern empire coastline and have raided as far south before
as Araby and Lustria. The Norse scorn ranged weaponry and prize speed and melee in combat.
Occasionally some have been known to hire themselves mercenaries to other races however, in the
times of massive Chaos fluctuations, join the Chaos proper fleet in great, massed numbers.
In combat the Norse, more than even Chaos proper, overwhelmingly favor melee and boarding
combat. To that end all of their ships are known for being extremely speedy and mobile, designed to
get in close to unleash their inhabitants. As the Norse raid all over the world they have become
exceptionally skilled and experienced at boarding actions and indeed, it is said they are the best in
the Warhammer world.
Ship Type: Ship of the Line
Mobility: 9 (26 knots)
Crew: 50+
Weapons: Boarding Team
Boarding Strength: Medium-High
A Norse Kingship is galley heavily laden with treasure , each of them serving either the Norse king
or that of his nobilit.. It is fast and speedy, crewed by some of the finest warriors among the
Norsemans retinue. However other than the occasional archer it lacks ranged weapons completely
and thus the only way it can successfully compete in battle is through boarding teams. Using its
speed this vessel will attempt to dodge enemy projectiles before taking the enemy to melee with
elite Huscarl, Beserkers and Ulfrenwar (werewolf) warriors leading the attack backed by skilled
bondsmen. See Norse Warhird for descriptions for these characters.
Ship Class: Ship of the Line
Crew: 80+ (Based on what
Boarding Strength: Low
Long ships are the standard ship of the Norse fleet, crewed by a mixture of warriors and slaves
known as Thralls. These thralls however shouldnt be considered noncombatants or innocent
victims and are indeed as bloodthirsty as their masters, for the mightiest among them may be able
to rise out of serfdom. Still though enthusiastic fighters they are not necessarily well-equipped
ones, being devoid of heavy armor but likely having shields.
The Norse christen these ships through a rather gruesome ceremony where they launch their
vessels over the living bodies of slaves and captives, to crush them as sacrifices to their sea gods to
ensure good weather and calm seas.
In battle Longships serve somewhat as expendable fodder for the Kingship, shielding the kingships
from fire and overwhelming enemy fleets in great massed boarding actions . Norse commanders
have been known to order these ships to be chained up to form an enormous fighter platform
before being driven into an enemy fleet.
The Dark Elves have a very unique relationship with Chaos. While there are quite a few that give
into Chaos Worship, many more freely ally with it, believing they can use Chaos to their own ends,
even master it. This extreme hubris often gets them killed but such delusion has resulted in many
Druichi-Chaos alliances against Ulthuan and Lustria.
The fleet below is far rarer than the Chaos Dwarf fleet for most Druichi vessels went with the Witch
King. Yet Chaos-Druichi alliances are allowed in Manowar and, given the existence of the Cult of
Slaanesh, might appear as surprise foes on the high seas.
Dark Elves scorn the use of ships, relying instead upon powerful sea monsters and magic to destroy
their foes. these creatures take the place of other races' Ships of the Line. Some monsters act
independently, while others act in squadrons of three, with each monster in the squadron being of
the same type.
Monsters are crewed by Dark Elves trained to guide them. These crews ride in specially constructed
vessels that put them in a position to control their beasts. If these vessels are destroyed the
monster goes out of control, and plunges down into the depths of the ocean for the rest of the battle.
Eventually, they will return to the Ark, drawn back by ancient spells of binding.
In regards to air combat the Dark Elf employ manticore lords armed with great, dark spheres of
Dark magic to drop bombs onto enemy . Against enemy flyers, they use their Sky-Reapers-magazine
fed ballista- to great effect.
Ship Class: ManOWar
Mobility: 4
Crew: Lorewise, a decent sized Black Ark might hold thousands
Weapons: Druichi Crew, including Black Ark Corsairs
-Monsters
-Maze of magical spells , illusions and traps.
--24 Reaper Ballista (6 at the fore, 6 on each broadside, 6 on the aft)
Boarding Strength: Very High
Mightiest of all sea-going vessels are the Black Arks of Naggaroth. These are the ancient homes of
the Dark Elf magicians populated by their depraved distant descendants. They are enormous craft:
sinister floating fortresses, covered in eldritch carvings which hurt the eyes when gazed upon.
Down the years they have been sculpted by their owners until they resemble great ships. They are
regarded by the Elves as being the furthest outposts of Naggaroth and they range the seas
performing inscrutable errands in the service of their Daemon God.
The Arks are surrounded by shifting mist and shimmering spells of illusion that make them difficult
to hit. As an enemy ship approaches the crew is bewildered by magic. The men see phantoms
emerge from the fog, they hear insane laughter and awful screams which break into unwholesome
groans of pleasure. The monstrous presence which is the Black Ark looms above their ship, tower
upon tower, spire upon spire of living rock, unaturally afloat on the surface of the sea.
It takes a very brave crew to proceed further. If they do they are greeted by raking Reaper ballista
fire from emplacements in the stone. The Reapers fire six-foot rune encrusted black-iron heads that
cleave through the air towards them. Should the enemy manage to set foot on the Ark, the must
proceed through a maze of traps and magic to the very heart of darkness, for the Arks are much
bigger than they appear. Like icebergs, much of their bulk is below the surface. In the rock below
are dark dismal caverns, lit by eerie green witchlights, wherein monsters dwell.
In battle, Arks are terrible. As they sail inexorably closer to their foes the water around them seethe
with a horde of monsters which swarm around the enemy ships. From the bowels of the ship
emerge monsters and whole fleets of ships and monsters can return to this giant vessel for an
opportunity to be healed. However, these vessels would be incredibly rare for Chaos and it is hard
to imagine there being more than one or two.
Ship Class: Monster
Crew: A handful of Dark Elf beast trainers, if boarded the enemy fights the monster
Weapons: At least one Reaper Battery

-Hellrakes
Boarding Strength: Moderate
These spire-topped chariots are pulled by Helldrakes - monsters bred by Dark Elf Sorcerers, and
that combine the ferocity of a wolverine with the might of a dragon, with jaws capable if biting
through the thickest steel.
The Helldrakes are harnessed to the Doomreaver's towers. These are crewed by a small number of
specially trained beast-handlers that have raised their Helldrakes from birth, and are the only that
can control these ferocious beasts. They guide the Helldrakes with magical lances that send
explosive bursts of agony ripping through the creatures if they disobey.
Helldrakes are so fierce that they will attack anything that is not of their own pack. All the
Doomreavers in a squadron are pulled by Helldrakes raised from the same clutch of eggs, but even
they will sometimes attack each other in the fervour of battle.
Ship Class: Monster

Mobility: * (26 knots)
Crew: A handful of Dark Elf beast trainers, if boarded the enemy fights the monster
Weapons: Druichi Crew
-Sea Dragon
From deep within the Black Arks issue forth the Death Fortresses - huge, spired castles mounted
atop the backs of immense Sea Dragon's.
Sea Dragon's are the largest of the Dark Elves' sea going monsters. Once, long ago they were true
dragons, ridden by the ancestors of the Dark Elves, but down the centuries they have become
infused with the magics that permeate the Arks. They have mutated, becoming something less than
true dragons and yet more.
The Sea Dragons have grown so gigantic that they have lost the power of flight and have to spend
their lives afloat to support their own weight. Even so, the remain capable of ripping asunder the
biggest ships of other races' fleets.
The towers and spires of the Death Fortresses on their scaly bristle with deadly Reaper ballistas
which pour fire on their foe as the Sea Dragon approaches, ready to destroy with its mighty jaws
and gigantic tail.
As shown in the novel Elfslayer the Dark Elves can utilize young sea dragons- those too small to pull
their ships- as ridable cavalry during ship battles. Though unable to breathe fire they can tear apart
the hulls of ships with viscious teeth, claws and a body that is still several dozen meters long.
While Druichi would never be caught dead manually rowing a ship they are, however, willing to
order slaves to do it! Some Druichi corsairs have been known to ride these sleek and quick galleys
into battle, their crew delighting in the chance to move their agile vessels up close to board. They
might also have repeater crossbowmen or ballistas at top.
Much feared throughout the world, the Chaos Dwarf Fleet has, along with the Dwarf fleet, entered
the steampunk era. These vessels are propelled by Iron Engines and mounted with all sorts of
hellish artillery. They are the terror of the Eastern Sea, and would devastate coastal towns on the
Old World too if it were not for the Elves at the Fortress of the Dawn, who keep them rounding the
Southlands.
Like the Chaos fleets, Chaos Dwarf fleets come equipped with sorcerers who can be mounted as
aerial units on their Great Tauruses. They might also come equipped with Hellfire Rocket batteries
to fight aerial foes.
Ship Class: Man OWar
Mobility: 5
Crew: 40+
Weapons: Rocket Battery; Giant Mortar
-1 optional Hellfire Battery (anti-air)
The Thunderfire Battlebarge is a massive ship with towering gothic superstructures and surprising
mobility. These things carry a massive rocket battery that holds multiple 20 foot rockets. These
rockets must be loaded very carefully, for if not the rocket might well explode and take out the
entire ship! Other common problems include the potential to misfire, to jam or even for the barrel
to split. However assuming it is fired this salvo of rockets hits with enough force to take out
basically any single ship in Warhammer and it is capable of melting steel in seconds.
The Great Leveller, meanwhile, replaces the rocket battery for one massive, giant mortar. This
mortar is so incredibly large that the ships it hit are described as snapping in half like twigs.
However to compensate this battlebarge is extremely slow and basically drifts along when not
firing. Like the Thunderfire there is a chance of the mortar misfiring, jamming or even exploding on
the ship.
Mobility: 7-8 (Daemon Enginer
Weapons: Giant Ram; Giant Steammroller
- 1 Forward mounted cannon (Thunder Roller)
- -1 optional Hellfire Battery (anti-air)
The Hull-Destroyers are among the fastest of the Chaos Vessels, surging forward close to the enemy
to pound them with rams. Once in close a mechanized piston pulls the ram-which runs the entire
length of the ship- back. On impact the ram braces forward dealing the enemy ship an incredible
impact.
The thunder-Roller functions in a similar manner. Propelled by two steam engines, this vessel has a
huge iron roller mounted with spikes in front which churns up water as it moves. When in close it
crushes and tears enemies apart.
Within the Seas of Chaos, mighty fleets constantly battle for supremacy as eager gods watch on.
Leading incredibly vast and varied fleets, the chaos lord admirals of these fleets are some of the
most feared and ruthless individuals on the planet. Among their number was once Lord Archaon
himself, who was infamous for raiding every port from Nippon to Kislev, sacking Ind cities, driving
away Saratosian pirates and even destroying the absolutely massive Cathayan turtle fleet in a three
day battle.
Now, with the Everchosen crowned and the Call of Chaos in the air, the hordes of these vessels set
sail to the Southlands once more. Though quite a few are fleets comprised of only a single god many
are pragmatic enough to realize the boon of incorporating followers of all the gods and thus
lead a varied assortment of ships.
Like the Norse the crew of the Chaos fleets are vicious and enthusiastic melee fighters. Chaos
Warriors, Chaos Spawn, Beastmen, even the mighty Chosen can be found on their decks, and even
the Chaos cultists that serve as the majority crew are fight with impeccable zeal. However the most
intimidating aspect of fighting a Chaos fleet is the prospect of fighting a foe constantly rewarded by
the gods, with mutations being bestowed not just on the crew but the ships themselves. Those
mutations are as follows:
AURA OF TZEENTCH - This ship slips between dimensions,

appearing hazy and indistinct one moment, yet solid and real
the next. Around the vessel, time slows or speeds up, allowing
it Captain to observe and predict the maneuvers of his
opponents.
CONFUSION - The vessel appears to be constantly changing

colour and shape, sometimes taking on a guise of a fearsome
beast, and sometimes fading to little more than a shadow. It
continually throws a rainbow array of reflections upon the
waves, sowing confussion and doubt in the minds of all who
behold that makes it difficult to fire at. However the
enchantment is only brief as eventually the enemy crew will overcome the magic.
CRYSTAL HULL - This bizarre vessel has a glittering hull of an unknown crystal substance that
reflects the sun in blinding patterns as the ship weaves and maneuvers. Those patterns have the
chance to blind enemy crew., causing them to miss their shots.
ELEMENTAL FORCE - The audible hum of barely controlled energies emanate from within this
vessel. Its hull ripples and cracks as it attempts to contain the raw power of Chaos. When the time is
right, the Captain of the ship may unleash these forces in a bolt of energy akin to a magical cannon.
Can only be used once per battle.
HYPNOTIC GAZE - The penetrating glare of giant eyes painted on the bows of this vessel sweep the
battlescape, causing opponents to flinch and look away. Those that do not are ensnared, incapable
of doing anything except defending themselves until I their minds manage to break the spell. Effects
any ship within a couple hundred meters.
INVISIBILITY - As this vessel rushes headlong towards its foes it appears to fade, its outline
becomes insubstantial and fragile as a phantom, until it is gone from site. The magic of Tzeentch
has made
it invisible to mortal eye. This reward is temporary and can only be done once per battle.
WARPFLIGHT - Coruscating energies flash and thunder above this vessel as it harnesses the raw
energy of the warp. As the storm grows, the ship abruptly vanishes, leaving nothing but a stench
of ozone on the air. Then, with a flash of lightning, it instantly reappears behind its foes. Can only
be done once per battle.
RAZOR CLAWS - This ship has glittering, spiked claws protruding from its sides. As it glides past
enemy vessels, these claws rip and tear through wood and flesh alike, maiming crew and wrecking
timbers.
ARMOURED SCALES - This ship is covered from stem to stern with thick bronze and iron plates
and bands that bear the hideous devices of Khorne. These beaten panels are said to be made from
the melted-down armor and shields of vanquished foes, and add greatly to the ship's strength and
durability.
BITING SKULL - This ship's prow bears a hideous skull of immense proportions. As this vessel
closes with its victim to make a boarding action, the mouth of this skull opens wide, revealing
rows of gleaming steel fangs that rend and gouge chunks from the target, inflicting great damage. If
the enemy crew isnt able to dislodge the skull, the Chaos crew can use this as a means to board.
BLOODRAGE - The first time the crew of this ship engage in a boarding action, they are enragds by
a violent bloodlust that lets them ignore wounds and injuries which would kill normal men.
BLOODTHROWER - This ship has a huge fanged cannon mounted on it prow that is linked by some
infernal device to a tank of a coagulated, blood like substance that gushes out of the cannon and
splatters the deck and crew of its target. Whatever the foul liquid comes into contact with is set
alight. Has a range of a couple hundred meters.
BLUDGEON OF KHORNE - This ship is armed with the Bludgeon of Khorne, a great iron-shod
hammer mounted in the bows. When this vessel initiates boarding action with the enemy, the
Bludgeon is
released and smashes into the targets hull.
DAEMON HORNS - This ship bears a bronze bull's skull as a figuehead. The sweeping horns of this
skull are viciously barbed, so they will hold fast onto whatever they strike. When the ship is
rammed against an enemy it gores the other vessels hull, before locking in place. If not removed
this allows the Kohrnate crew to board.
FLAMING PROW - The hideous, bronze Daemon's face mounted at the prow of this ship bellows
and roars in anger as the vessel charges towards the enemy. When in range, great gouts of searing
flame,
scorching and burning the opponent at around a couple hundred meters.
FRENZY -In any one boarding action in the battle, the Captain of this ship may goad his warriors
into a frenzy of bloodlust. With no regard for their own safety, they hurl themselves at the enemy,
even
if heavily outnumbered.
LAUGHTER OF THE DAMNED: As this ship glides towards its prey, the hysterical, but strangely
enchanting laughter of its crew echoes across the water. Those within range (100 meters) must
struggle to ward off their minds from the enchanting noise otherwise the enchantment will leave
the crew paralyzed, unable to do anything as the Slaaneshi ship prepares for ramming.
LURE OF SLAANESH: Unleashed upon the crew of a single ship within a mile, those unable to resist
the spell temporarily go mad and try to slaughter their companions.
EMBRACE OF DOOM: This Ship quivers to life and, when locked in boarding action, might move on
its own by attacking the enemy crew, its deck or even the underwater hold with giant, flesh-like
tentacles.
BLINDING COLOURS: This ship is painted in a blinding pattern of magical colors that shift and
blend as the vessel moves, making it difficult for enemy gunners to target it effectively.
HYPNOTIC ATTACK: When engaged in boarding this ships magic activates, causing enemy crew to
view it as stunningly beautiful. Some drop their weapons in shock while others cover their heads
with their hands, unable to behold such beauty.
WHISPERING DEATH: Unleashed against one ship within a mile, this spell causes the enemy vessel
to essentially turn turncoat temporarily, bringing all their guns to bear on a friendly vessel and
firing en masse. Can only be used once per battle.
INCENSE OF DESPAIR: Mounted on the deck of the ship are huge copper and gold incense burners,
tended by the warped acolytes of Slaanesh. Noxious fumes build up within the swinging burners
and, once unleashed, appear as great clouds of cloying smoke that engulfs enemy ships. Souch is the
despair of this incense that the crew temporarily goes mad and damages their own ship. Can only
be used once per battle.
DEFEANING NOISE: A deafening cacophony of clashing noise can be heard from this vessel,.
Sometimes this noise, though distracting, is okay however rarely it might get so bad that, once used
in a boarding action, can cause the eardrums and heads of the enemy crew to explode! Can only be
used once per battle.
WARTY SCALES: This ship is covered in thick, warty growths that glisten with hideous slime. This
has the effect of making the ship more difficult to sink.
HIDEOUS STENTCH: The stench of this ship is so bad that the crew of any ship engaged with them
or fighting a couple hundred meters downwind feel sick and cannot fight to their full potential.
REGENERATE DAMANGE: The ship has an indistinct, almost flowing outline as great gobblets of
slime drip from the decks before dripping into the ocean. When the ship suffers damage this slime
seeps into the holes, slowly plugging them up and healing the ship.
TENTACLES: This ship is covered in Kraken-like tentacles that have a reach of dozens of meters. In
boarding or ramming actions that reach outwards to grab hold of screaming enemy crew to rip
them limb from limb.
POISONED ARROWS: Armed with arrows that have poison so potent that it melts flesh on contact,
the Nurglite crewmen file a volley into the enemy crew before boarding.
SHIP ROT: The Nurgle Vessel has a Forward firing catapult loaded with slime and rotting filth and a
range of several hundred meters. When it hits the enemy ship the rot spreads to other, unhit areas
like some sort of plague. If the brew is particularly potent the disease or not stopped it will claim
the vessel (but not the crew!) or at the very least cripple it. Can be used once per battle.
VOMIT BLAST: As this ship approaches its target a huge, toad-like mouth opens at the prow,
vomiting a torrent of caustic, foul smelling bile at the enemy that eats through the enemy hull. Can
only be used once per battle.
PLAGUESHIP: So diseased is this ship, that the crew of any vessel that comes near runs the risk of
catching Nurgles Rot.
Chaos love of magic extends to the High seas, and the mighty wizards that take to the waves carry
with them some thoroughly unique spells designed to create havoc on the high seas. These include:
DEATH VENOM: The Wizards unleashes cackling goblets of bizarre venom that fuses men and ship
together, inflicting terrible causalities and maiming the ship.
CRAWLING FLESH: At the wizards command the sea underneath one of the enemy vessels turns
into soft, writhing flesh that grasps the vessel in a vice-like grip. Until it can break free or the wizard
dies, that vessel cannot move.
DEATHSURGE: The sorcerer summons a dark wave that towers over the Chaos fleet, before
picking it up and rushing it towards the enemy fleet, allowing them to rapidly close the gap.
VORTEX OF CHAOS: Creates a small tornado of raw Chaos energy that rushes through the water
until dissipation, decimating all in its path. However it IS uncontrollable and has the risk of running
into the Chaos fleet.
HOWLING INSANITY: An area of seascape turns pitch-black as dark warp magic overtakes the
area,. This temporarily turns all inside the affected zone insane and causing them to unleash their
weapons in random directions.
CARNAGE: The wizard calls upon the dark lords of battle to infuse every chaos boarder on the
battlefield with superhuman rage, making them far deadlier in melee.
PLAGUEFLIES: At a command millions of plagueflies descend upon an enemy vessel, attacking the
enemy crew and either literally drowning them in flies or infecting them with a great number of
diseases.
CARNAGE: The wizard calls upon the dark lords of battle to infuse every chaos boarder on the
battlefield with superhuman rage, making them far deadlier in melee.
WIND OF CHAOS: The sorcerer gathers a large, immense cloud over the Chaos fleet for several ong
moments. Then, with a shouted command, he unleashes the wrathful tempest on the enemy fleet.
Though this wind is not powerful enough to do damage to the vessels, it disrupts formations and
blows enemy ships off course in random directions.
PLAGUE SEA: A massive, battlefield wide spell that turns the entire battlezone into thick, slowly
pulsing liquid and dead air. For many terrifying minutes (until the spell wears off) enemy vessels
cannot move.
MAW OF DOOM: Summons a dark vortex underneath the enemy ship, violently wracking it back
and forth, killing members of the crew and damaging or even submersing the vessel.
VISION OF DESPAIR: When targeted against the enemy vessel this spell has a chance to either
do nothing or fill the hearts of the enemy with such incredible despair that they are incapable of
doing anything, even defending themselves in a boarding action. If a Chaos vessel boards them
while this spell is in effect the enemy crew will either surrender or lay down and die.
ABJECT TERROR: Through invoking this spell all but the strongest minded of the enemy fleet are
unable to do anything other than defend during a boarding action, as paralyzed nerves disrupt
movement, firing and special action. Lasts only briefly.
Chaos Crews: For the most part, Chaos Ships are crewed by either Chaos Warriors or Cultists. The
Latter are considered fanatical warriors but lack the skill, weapons or strength that the Warriors
have. However, Chaos lords have also recruited Beastmen to crew their vessels as well and
sometimes peppered the crew with Chaos Spawn, who are presumably locked in the hold until
fighting begins. Rarely mighty Chosen or Chaos Knights have joined crew of ships that possess
Chaos Warriors.
Air Combat: Hypothetically, any air unit used on land can be used on seas, though Lrods of Change
are infamous for taking part. Against enemy flyers most Chaos forces do not take care to protect,
though sorcerers employ arcane runes that shoots out bolts of energy against those that get close.
Chaos Terrain:
Ship Class: Man Of War (Capital Ship)
Crew: 300 Crew plus 300 boarding party (all Chaos Warriors/Chosen)
2 Burning Skull Cannons

Hammer of Khorne
Boarding Strength: High
A Khorne Bloodship is a fearsome vessel to behold. It is a vast towering war machine that grinds
across the surface of the waves, its armored prow snapping open and shut like some great beast's
maw. The massed banks of its beaten bronze oars cut through the water at inhuman speed, and
deep within its titanic hull great drums beat incessant rhythms. As its jaws open, whirling blades
and pounding hammers spring forth, and great gouts of flame roar skyward.
The principle ranged weapon of the Bloodship is a pair of massive cannons that fire Napatha
coated screaming skulls at artillery range . These skulls have been filled with molten lead to
increased weight and produce shrapnel when landing, as have as having the potential to set the
enemy ship on fire. But by far the scariest element of the vessel is its great jaws known as the
Hammer of Khorne. When approaching the enemy vessel it will this gruesome weapon will spray
molten lead and iron onto the enemy vessel before stretching all the way out and closing. This
damages the enemy ship and locks it in place, allowing for the crew of Chaos Warrior or Chosen on
the ship to board the vessel.
Mobility: 9 (26 Knots)
Crew Size: 200, 200 Boarders
Weapons: Shark Mouth, Boarding Team

The Ironsharks are perhaps the strangest and most evil looking ship of the Chaos fleet. Each has a
giant metallic shark mouth comprising of the front portion of the ship. Crewed by the most crazed
of cultists these ships are rammed into the enemy, their iron jaws snapping and slamming into
the victim. Then Chaos cultists flood over the ramp onto the enemy ship. These cultists are lightly
armored compared to the Chaos Warriors but make
up for it in passion and ferocity.
Ship Class: Man of War
Crew: 40+ (All Chaos Warriors/Chosen)
Weapons: Boarding Team,
- Slaaneshi Radiance
- Incense of Slaanesh
Slaanesh Hellships are graceful, sinuous ships painted in intricate patterns and radiant colors. The
vast silk sails glisten and glimmer as they softly shift with the wind, and a halo of pale pastel light
glows around them.
The superstructure of a Hellship resembles a great domed palace illuminated from within by a soft
pastel light. Beams of bright colour radiate from its core, stabbing out across the waves from arched
partals draped in heavy silks. Ships touched by the shafts of light are bathed in a glowing corona
that is bewitching to look upon.
Closer to the Hellship, plumes of brightly colored incense billow from an aperature at the peak of
the dome, and slide down the sides of the vessel in heady, rolling clouds that settle on the surface of
the water.Thus masked from sight, only the entrancing strains of bizarre melodies and the ecstatic
screams of the crew reveal the Hellship's presence, the noise beckoning insidiously to the crews of
ships that venture too near.
In keeping with the philosophy of Slaanesh, this Hellships main weapons are not steel or plague,
but the allure of Chaos itself. The first, the radiance of Slaanesh, is a giant purple beam with
artillery range that can be fired at a single ship at a time. Once shined on the enemy ship it implants
treasonous thoughts in the heads of the crew. Depending on enemy will the crew might defect and
start a murderous killing frenzy against the loyal crew. The closer the Hellship is to the enemy ship,
the greater the potency of the weapon. Only willpower can resist the treason inducing effects
otherwise the ship is thrown into chaos, as formerly loyal friends fight each other to the death. In
the best case scenario the Chaos forces seize control of the ship, though the newly victorious
treasonous crew is too mind addled to do anything with it.
The second weapon is the Incense of Slaanesh, which is deployed during boarding actions. This
engulfs the Slaaneshi and enemy vessel in a sweet smelling enchanted mist that also has a chance to
have the weak willed defect to Slaanesh.
Crew: 200 Crew, potentially 200 boarders

Weapons: Giant iron spike (Hellrammer)
Scythe blades (Hellslicer)
Boarding Crews
Slaanesh Hellrammers are lithe, low ships armed with a huge iron spike to pierce their enemies'
hulls. Little adorns their uncluttered decks as needless decoration would only slow them down.
Besides the fearsome looking spike, which dwarfs the massive rams of other vessels, a single
cannon battery projects from each Hellrammer's bow, firing on the target ship as the ship
approaches.
Slaanesh Hellslicers are strange ships to behold. They are basically Wargalleys, but have huge
scythe blades mounted on the top of strong masts. As a Hellslicer approaches a target, the blades
begin to rotate. As they gather speed, the huge knoves merge into a deadly, glittering arc, and make
an eerie, keening sigh as they slice through the air. These will then cut through enemy masts. It
seems that the purpose of this ship is to cut away an enemys ability to escape.
Ship Class: Man of War
Training: 7
Crew: 60+ (Chaos Warriors)
Weapons: Plague Catapult

- Boarding Team
- Mere presence
- Boarding Strength:: Extremely High (due to huge amount of disease)
Plagueships of Nurgle are hideous to behold. They are huge, rotund vessels lashed together from
mildew-ridden, slimy planking. They fly vast, ragged and rotting sails from their uneven and
splintered masts. Their great treadwheels lazily churn the sea as they plod forward under a cloud
of flies. Behind them, the Plagueships leave a trail of disgusting detritus, polluting the sea and
killing fish for miles around. If ships follow this trail directly, they catch the plague. Cackling
Chaos Spawn and Nurglings swarm over their slippery, rotten decks.
The stench of a Plagueship passing causes even the strongest stomach to retch as the foul smell of
this immense tub-like vessel drifts downwind. A plague ship can travel under sail or by paddle.
Plague catapults are the principal weapons onboard a Plagueship. They are loaded down with
plague-spores, excrement, rotting material and the infectious filth of decay. The plague can
incapacitate enemy crews or decay and rot ships. As Plagueships of Nurgle plod across the
seascape, they leave a stinking trail of fetid slime behind them. This trail can rot ship hulls that
come in contact with it.In boarding actions to the enemy ship must deal with plagues every
instance, though fortunately the Plagueship is slow.
Mobility: 6-8 (Deathgalley) (17-26 knots)
Training: 4-5
Crew: 40+
Weapons: Plague Catapults x2, Boarding team.
Deathgalley has Boarding Team, 1 forward mounted cannon
Plaguecrushers are bizarre looking vessels, mounting a huge siege tower on the foredeck, built from
whatever rotting and diseased timbers can be found. Protected by this tower from grapeshot and
arrows, the Plaguecrusher can close with the enemy vessels before its slime dripping plagues
catapults lob their filth laden missiles at their targets. Like the Plagueships this will unleash
plagues on the enemy decks.
The Deathgalley is a fast ship like the Norse vessels that can serve any of the four gods. They are
loaded up with eager Chaos Cultists and occasionally Chaos Spawn. These vessels favor boarding
action but also do have a cannon on board. The Deathgalley can be used by followers of all the
gods.
Mobility: "Variable -- It's Tzeentch"
Crew: 200 Crew, 200 Boarders
Weapons: Bolts of Change
-Boarding Team
Boarding Strength: Moderate-High
These strange ships are constructed in a manner seemingly incomprehensible to the men of the
empire. These vessels hover lazily along the Winds of Magic right above the ocean waves. Each of
these vessels is highly resilient to damage. They are capable of drifting motionless for hours before
accelerating forward at incredible speeds. This is a random mechanism, dependent on the Winds of
Magic. Sometimes these are so fast that the human eye can barely track the movement; other times
it moves as a snail pace. Though generally it can hover over sea level ground, if it runs into an
obstacle like a hill it might crash into it. It is a Hovering vessel after all, not a flyer.
The Tzeentch Great Winged Terror has a very unique manner to dealing with enemy blows. When it
is hit by an enemy the magical energy powering the vessel absorbs the blow, rendering no
physical damage to the vessel. Like a forcefield in that way. However once the forcefield is broken
by enough hits the entire vessel is destroyed, without having to do physical damage.
At range the Tzeentch Great Winged Terror blasts enemy with artillery sized bolts of change, which
presumably works like the WarpFire spell. When it comes to boarding enemy forces engaged with
the crew of this vessel have a 1/6 chance of turning, upon death, into a Pink horror.
Mobility: Random-Its Tzeentch
Training: 4 (Chaos Cultists) 8(Chaos Sorcerer)
Weapons: Bolts of Change
Boarding Team
When a Chaos Sorceror takes to seas part of a Chaos Fleet he will always be aboard a Bane Tower
of Tzeentch. This strange vessel resembles a huge floating castle, suspended above the waves on a
glowing nimbus of light and bathed in a veil of lightning bolts that crackle across its hull. The Bane
Tower shares many of the same rules as the Great Winged Terror. These include random
movement, the bolts of change fired at long range, hovering (and into obstacles), how it takes
damage and the Prink Horror rule for boarding.
Mighty sorcerers in the Warhammer world can bind and
dominate a multidue of terrible monsters, using arcane spells
taken from the gods or whose inventors have long lost to time.
These dominated monsters include:
BEHEMOUTH : Larger than the largest three-point baleen, the

white whale called Behemoth is one of the kings of the sea. The
Behemoth has a single horn projecting from its blunt snout like a
narwhal. Its teeth, however, are unlike those of other whales;
each is over six feet long and razor sharp. The Behemoth's hide is
studded with scars and several broken harpoons are still
embedded in its back. It doesn't seem to notice them.
When the Behemoth attacks, it moves at a great speed towards its

victim, usually from below, quickly gathering momentum. The
only warning most of its victims get is a flicker of movement in
the water before its horn bursts through their ship, often
skewering its prey completely. Once it has captured and impaled
its prey, the Behemoth will drag it under the water and carry it off
to its lair, where it can feast upon the morsel at leisure
BLACK LEVIATHAN: The Black Leviathan is a

huge, carnivorous deep-sea fish, with a cavernous
mouth full of barbed fangs. It approaches its target
swimming low in the water, with little of its vast
bulk showing. As it gets close, it rises up from the
waves, its mouth agape, and gulps its victim down
whole. It should be noted that in ManoWar
corsair this creature is big enough to gulp down a
galleon.
GARGANTUAN: The Gargantuan is an immense sinuous beast from the depths of the abyss. Ir
resembles a vast serpent, its body reaching a diameter of up to 30 feet and growing to a length of
hundreds of feet. Its cruelly fanged mouth is always open; as it swims it swings its head from side to
side, searching for prey to satisfy its voracious appetite.
The Gargantuans favorite method of attack is to approach its prey from below and warp its sinuous
coils around it like a boa constrictor. The monster then goes about trying to crush the victim while
delivering massive shocks to it.
The Kraken is a giant squid-like creature with hundreds of tentacles that end in cruel suckers and
vicious barbs. It grabs its prey with these appendages and propels them into its evilly beaked
mouth. There are many tales of Kraken emptying ships of crew and leaving them ravaged and
drifting with no sails or masts left standing on their destroyed decks.
MEGALADON: The Megaladon is a little known species of shark, four or five times as large as its
nearest relative. In common with other sharks, it is an efficient and ruthless predator, which has
been known to go into berserk feeding frenzies in battle.
Promethean: The Promethean is a large, crab-like creature that is believed to live on the ocean
floor, only coming to the surface to feed. Its tough carapace gives it protection from most attacks,
while its tremendously powerful pincers can rip apart masts, sails and superstructure.
All manner of hateful ocean-dwelling creature was stranded upon the ground around them, flopping
back and forth impotently. He saw all sorts of fish, many of which had gaping mouths filled with razor-
sharp teeth. He saw a shark easily three times the size of his horse, and it thrashed back and forth
furiously. It was no natural beast, that, and he recognised the touch of Chaos upon it - dozens of
grabbing tentacles surrounded its tooth-filled maw, and clusters of hate-filled eyes glared at him from
the side of its broad head-Knights of Brettonia
It was felt before it could be seen or smelt or heard. The druchii felt he atrocitys presence like a
foulness, a spiritual contagion that spread a skein of slime across their souls. It was the phantom touch
of raw evil not the petty evil as mortal beings imagined it, but the cosmic malignance that profaned
the very essence of reality. It was the hate of things impossible and unborn, the bitterness of what
could not be, the profaneness of the unknown.
From the depths, it slobbered upwards, a heaving undulation of carrion-meat, flesh bloated and
necrotic. It had some semblance of form about it. The things that grappled the sides of the black ark
were as much like arms as they were branches; the things that oozed from the ends of those arms were
not unlike titanic hands. From each hand, ropy coils that rudely simulated fingers snaked around the
towers, corroding stone and iron with their touch, engulfing flesh and bone until their victims were
absorbed into the necrotic essence of the tendril that gripped him.
There was a head, of sorts, and it squatted upon bony, cadaverous shoulders. It was something like a
skull that had been wrapped in a veil of slime and decay, each line of bone clearly defined yet still
obscured by the encrustations it had accumulated. Hagworms writhed from the things sunken cheeks,
while anemones and polyps squirmed between its teeth. Four cavernous hollows flanked a gash-like
nasal opening. In the depths of those hollows, flickering at the ends of fleshy ribbons, were hundreds of
blazing red orbs. As the behemoth surged upwards and wrapped its arms about the black ark, the eye-
stalks extruded themselves outwards, whipping about the skull-like face to peer and probe the world
the abomination had invaded.-Deathblade
Just as with the land, Chaos can corrupt the sea as well. There is a reason the seas in Warhammer
are so dangerous. In Knights of Brettonia the blood of the followers of Khorne made the sea
creatures as bloodthirsty as the Khornates, leading to the masses of sharks, fish, orcs, crabs and
more going all out, and sometimes even out of the water, to try to kill things. Chaos can warp
creatures into versions bigger than themselves such as the megaladon shark, Black Leviathan and
more.
It also effects the weather and, through their magic, the Chaos sorcerers may exhibit a degree of
control. Though rarely do these effects take up the whole battlefield, sometimes multiples can be
found on the battlefield at once. Some of these strange effects include
-Sea of Change: The sea of Change warps and alters anything that sails into it. Sometimes the ships
emerge magically restored to full vigor or else given a burst of speed, however other times the sea
prevents the vessel from moving or even causes it to disappear completely. Tzeentch ships are not
immune to these problems, though they do have better luck at acquiring the positive effects.
-Sea of Blood: Thick, congealed gore sticks to the hull of any vessel that enters the Sea of Blood.
This both slows down vessels by clogging rudders and oars with blood and is so noxious it can
cause those with light stomachs to go retching over the side. Does not effect Khorne or Nurgle ships.
- Sea of Fire: Within the sea of fire the water itself is ablaze, with the air hot and dry with sparks
capable of starting a fire. Needless to say, this is dangerous to sail through.
- The Iron Crags: The Iron Crags are a moving bank of jagged rocks ,covered in debris that drift
along the water in a surging, random fashion. Those it collides with can be smashed to bits.
- The Boiling Mists: The Boiling Mists roll across the battlefield as purple and yellow clouds that
envelop all that they encounter . A strident, silent hissing and the shrieking of hysterical laughter
can be heard insider the murky depths and dark, sinewy shapes writhe on the field of vision. When
a ship falls under the boiling mists they are rendered unable to fire and sometimes the crew might
leap off the ship, their minds driven mad by the experience. Slaanesh ships are immune to these ill-
effects.
- Grinding Rocks of Doom: Giant, random rock formations that might appear in a certain zone.
Though much of the time they remain motionless there is a chance for them to come smashing
together if a ship were to try to pass through, pulverizing the vessel.
With the exceptions that are noted, Chaos vessels are not immune to these ill-effects and it is fully
possible for these random formations to be the doom of their ships as much as with the enemy.
Below are the ships that were so pivotal in the events of Dreadfleet, when enormous ships fought for
control of an entire realm full of undead ships. Ultimately the winner was neither Jaego Roth, leader of a
desperate alliance, or Count Noctilus, leader of the undead, but the Golden Magus- a secret follower of
Tzeentch. He captured the ships seen below in great magical bottles that can be deployed for future use.
He also acquired the magical realm of Galleons Graveyard, meaning he can resurrect the ships over
time if possible. However, the crews he did not capture and thus the ships below (with the exception of
the Golden magus own ship, the Flaming Scimitar) might not run as effectively as they otherwise
would.
Ship Class: Legendary Vessel
Mobility: 4
Training: 4-5
Crew: 1,000-2000
Weapons: 200+ cannons (68

pounders)
Unknown number of Siege Mortars
Snipers
Giant Hammer on the forward bow
Impressive number of boarders
Boarding Strength: Extreme
The Heldenhammer resembles a three-masted galleon, but on an unprecedented scale - the warship
features hundreds of great cannons, entire batteries of siege mortars and murder holes for snipers. The
warship is unmistakably of the Empire, fish-tailed mer-gryphons on the sails adding a naval touch. At its
aft stands a grand temple, and it has a titanic figurehead of Sigmar mounted on its prow, whose gigantic
hammer is designed to smash enemy ships and even minor forts apart.
Fighting tops, get that quenched, shouted Roth. Hoist some barrels up there and pour beer on it if you
have to.
In truth, Roth had no patience for defence. The Heldenhammer was bearing down upon the
island with an unstoppable momentum, crunching aside skeletal protrusions that clawed feebly at the
hull as it passed. The temple-ship was so large that the gigantic figureheads hammer came level with
the fortress walls of the island ahead.
Now, shouted the captain, thumping the gunwale. Release the Wrath!
The prow of the warship shuddered as its keel ground into the corpse-coral at the base of the
island. To either side of Roth, the clanking of two metre-thick chains filled the air as the steam winches
holding the gigantic figurehead in place were released.
With a metallic shriek, the massive bronze sculpture of Sigmar swung downwards on its pivot,
accelerating with a giddying burst of speed. Its hammer thundered into the fortress wall with the force of
a meteor, crushing an entire section of the citadel walls to dust and leaving a rubble-strewn gap the size
of a town hall.
Mobility: 4
Training: 4-5
Crew: Thousands of undead

Weapons: 100 cannons on each side(200 total)
Numerous undead sea monsters
Undead Horde
From his mystical realm, Noctilus used powerful sorcery to bind the wreckage of the ships he found
there to forge a warship of staggering proportions with which to dominate the seas and drown the
mortal world in blood. The Bloody Reaver began as the Sylvanian castle of Count Noctilus but the
Vampire has since built up around it the shattered hulls of ships he has destroyed and it is manned by
thousands of dead crewmen raised once more to serve him. The rocky crag on which it was mounted
has also been torn from its original resting place, as has the pathway and bridge that led to Noctilus'
desolate lair, lending the model a real sense of its enormous scale. It is a sea-faring hulk, replete with
the myriad hulls of broken ships and galleons that are both Gothic and suitably grand enough for the
dread Vampire captain found within.
In combat the Black Reaver possess over a hundred ancient cannons on each side, thousands of undead
boarders and can command undead sea creatures to rise from the grave to attack. If struck it possesses
the ability to rapidly regenerate from wounds using the debris of sunken ships.
On the hilltops to the north, the cannon batteries ranged along the battlements of Castilla Diablos
returned fire. The gunners of Sartosas hillside fortress were the best on the island, and they hammered
volley after volley of shot into the Bloody Reaver. Wherever the cannonades struck home, cascades of
rubble and rotting timber slid into the seas.
Turning a corner near the docks, Roth glimpsed the rear of the castle-ship looming above a
scrapyard pile of captured figureheads. His eyes widened in shock. Rising from the waters around the
Reaver were the splintered remains of those galleons the castle-ship had smashed to pieces. Under the
control of some strange force, they were shoring up the wounds inflicted by the Castillas cannons,
joining with the castle-ships flanks as if held there by invisible hands. Already the hulls and gun-decks of
the Velvet Coffyn and the Beast o Blades had stuck fast to the war-hulk. Thick beams of wood flew from
the water to scaffold the incongruous armour in place. It looked to Roth like a cascade of debris in
reverse. Dreadfleet
Mobility: 8 (Thanks to Sea Spirits)
Training: 4-5
Crew: Hundreds
Weapons: A couple dozen cannons
Elemental Spirits
Boarding party, ranging from slave soldiers to forty Ogre bodyguards
Flaming Scimitar, warship of the self-styled Sultan of the Seas, appears as a pleasure-barge, complete
with libraries and an extensive harem, but this belies its true nature as a warship of terrible potency. The
Golden Magus has bound many elemental spirits that he can command in battle, setting his enemies
aflame with Fire Efreets, or filling his sails with the roaring breath of Tempest Djinns.
As the warship of a sorcerer from the lands far to the south of the Empire, Flaming Scimitar displays a
unique and individual design. The exotic nature of the minarets really help to set it apart from the other
warships of the fleet, each housing one of the great elementals - the Tempest Djinn and the Fire Efreet -
for which the Golden Magus is famed. The designs of the sails echo these elementals.
Each of the spirits bound to the ship offers a unique advantage. The Tempest Djinn can greatly speed up
the sail of the ship, while the Fire Efreet can set enemy ships afire in broadside. Finally te Sea Nymph can
help repair damage to the ship.
A trio of tornados came whirling out from the gold-capped minarets of the Arabyan craft above them,
spiralling and spinning as they grew larger and larger. The waters around the Alaric were whipped into a
white frenzy as the living winds swelled and bulged. To Roths tortured senses it looked as if the tornados
were taking the forms of three fat-bellied giants, thickly muscled arms stretching out as if they had been
kept in cramped conditions for far too long.
The air-devils were parting, now, swirling round in wide arcs and taking up positions behind the
Heldenhammer, Swordfysh and Scimitar. One by one, they drew in huge breaths before exhaling great
cones of ice-cold air.
Slowly at first, then with alarming speed, the vessels were turned about until they faced out to
sea. Their sails snapped full with a series of muffled cracks, bellying out as they harnessed the winds
blowing along the coast. The air-devils swirled around again until they were astern of each warship,
funnelling their tempestuous breath into the sails.
Another crackling blast of lightning ripped out of the leviathans flanks, punching through the
hull of the Swordfysh in a spray of timber and flailing limbs. She reeled, but rode it out, returning fire
with an eighty-cannon broadside of her own as her protesting sails strained under the tremendous winds
poured into them.
Propelled by the gale force breath of the wind-daemons, the warships carved into the open seas
at great speed. The monstrous vessel was left behind, receding into the distance until it was no more
than a pale stain against the horizon
()
Just when Roth thought the situation couldnt get any worse, the waters far out to port boiled upwards.
Three titanic blades burst from the waves, each large enough to spear Morrslieb itself. Pitted and
ancient, they ground upwards with thunderous slowness. Water cascaded from the blades as they
pushed up into the skies like the spires of an ancient civilisation rising from the deep.
Tidal waves heaved outwards from the riding blades, their sudden force hammering the decks of
the Nehekharan galley and the Bloody Reaver and carrying them away from the island in the process.
Roth watched in amazement as the Reaver heaved its prow around with a snap of its mainsail, riding the
momentum of the tidal eruption and escaping into the distant mist at speed.
()
Abruptly, the waters pouring across the deck of the Scimitar reversed their flow, cascading upwards and
crystallising into the form of a gigantic sea-devil that towered over the minarets. No lissom nymph this
time, but a ruggedly-built warrior maiden of rock-hard ice. The looming water-spirit grasped the clanking
tentacles in her heavy hands and, with the patient strength of a glacier, slowly pulled them away from
the minarets. Thrashing its limbs, the Kraken began to slide backward into the sea, forced away from the
Scimitars deck by the sea-spirits frozen bulk.
A flicker of hope flared in Roths chest as the Kraken changed tack, whipping its remaining
tentacles free from the Scimitar and wrapping them around the glacial maiden. Landslides of shattered
ice cascaded from the warrior-womans broad shoulders and arms, but still she fought on. With a sudden
jerk of her iceberg fist, she wrenched one of the tentacles clean out of the Krakens foresection, holding
the wriggling thing high in the air as if it were a trophy.
A thin, unnatural shriek echoed across the waters, piercing the turmoil of battle. Roth cried out in
encouragement, thrusting his fathers blade aloft.
The Flaming Scimitar, no longer held in place by the Krakens metallic bulk, shot forward like a
crossbow bolt. The Black Kraken crashed into the water in its wake, still wrestling with the Maguss
warrior spirit. Immersed in the boiling spume, the glacial maiden stood little chance against the
submersibles full might. She dissolved with a low moan, crushed into shards and then melted away into
nothingness by the boiling waters.
As the Flaming Scimitar escaped from the submersible craft, the elf warship made all speed away
from the rest of the Dreadfleet. The broadsides from the allied warships had broken the stranglehold
upon the slender Ulthuan vessel, but it was still in serious trouble.
Mobility: 10 (Can outpace a flying dragon)
Training: 4-5
Crew: Hundreds
Weapons: Dozens of Bolt Throwers (Ballistae)
Chaos Boarding Party
Swift and graceful, the Seadrake's elegance is beautifully represented by its sleek sails and long, narrow
hull set low in the water. The mast towers further reinforce the warship's scale and magnificence. It is
armed with dozens of eagle bolt throwers, designed to slay the enemy crew while leaving the main
vessel intact. The Elves who formally crewed the vessel could no doubt perform such accuracy, though
whatever crew the Golden Magus replaces them with is probably not as accurate.
Mobility: 3
Training: 4-5
Crew: Thousands
Weapons: Dozens of Screaming Skull Catapults
Light of Ptra
Dozens of Bolt Throwers
Undead Boarding Party
The Curse of Zandri looks like a giant floating pyramid complex on top of a ship. Crewed by hundreds of
skeletal oarsmen, this vessel boasts dozens of screaming skull catapults and bolt throwers, giant tomb
constructs on top plus uncounted numbers of skelatons to board. The great gem at the tail's tip acts as a
prism for the Light of Ptra, focusing the incandescent energy into a devastating beam of light.
Cutting in from starboard, the Nehekharan war galley was carving back around on an intercept course,
oars rising and falling with a speed and precision that no human galley could hope to match. Eight-foot
bolts of sharpened bone shot out from the triangular portholes arrayed at its sides, volley after
murderous volley slashing across the deck of the escaping warship. Massive bone catapults lined along
the pyramid-ships top deck sent flaming projectiles arcing through the air to rain down upon the
Ulthuan warship, punching holes in the sails and obliterating entire ranks of elven crew in storms of
enchanted fire. Roth hissed as the tip of the galleys stern began to glow painfully bright, the great jewel
that formed its sting crackling white with raw magical energy.
Mobility: 7 (flies above the waves)
Training: 4-5
Crew: Thousands
Weapons: Dozens of Ghostly Cannons
Undead Boarding Party
Boarding Strength: Virtually Impossible (its ability to turn ethereal may make it impossible to physically
board)
The ghostly pirate ship projects an eerie Undead feel, with its tattered sails and exposed hull suggesting
the image of a rotting animal carcass. Its hull features roes of antique cannons throughout its rotten
hull, but what identifies the Shadewraith as an unnatural entity more than any other aspect is that it
floats above the waves, held aloft by the tortured souls of the crew, the sea beneath it recoiling from its
touch. It has the ability called half-real in game, reflecting its flaky ghost-like nature, which means that
many (but not all) shots against it simply pass through the ship.
To Roths mounting amazement, a glowing white galleon was emerging from the mists above
him. It was easily twice as large as the Nightwatch. Its hull looked very much like a gigantic ribcage and
its keel took the form of a great curved spine. Under its bowsprit loomed a skeletal figurehead holding a
sword in either hand, its jaw agape in challenge. Great braziers of sickly green fire burned away the mist
on its fore and aftcastle, and tattered sails flapped from its fore, mizzen and aft masts like flayed skin.
Acres of rusted chain and a forest of tangled kelp dangled beneath the warship and Roth fancied
he could make out groaning faces and skeletal hands writhing in the morass. It was the Shadewraith, no
doubt about it: a ghost story made real and sent to plague the lands of men. One of the Dreadfleet.
The spectral galleon came about, its keel carving the air as if on invisible waters. Port side on, it
discharged a thunderous volley into the distant Castilla Diablos. A spike of return fire boomed from the
fortress walls, but the cannonade did nothing more than tear a few thin wisps of ectoplasm from the
Shadewraiths hull. The sound of dead mens laughter echoed from within its cavernous interior.
Mobility: 7 (Submersible)
Training: 4-5
Crew: Thousands
Weapons: A couple dozen cannon batteries capable of firing torpedoes or explosive mines, in addition
to conventional shot
Giant Tentacles
Drill where the beak would be capable of drilling through Iron Ships
Boarding Strength: Virtually Impossible (It is a submarine)
The Black Kraken, Tordrek Hackhart's ingenious creation, really captures the spirit of a terrifying sea
creature - if anyone could build such a metallic behemoth, then it would be a crazed Chaos Dwarf
Engineer. The articulated tentacles lend a sense of the sinister to what is already an esoteric
submersible. Its twin paddles are visible, safely ensconced within the 'abdomen'.
In combat this submersible rises from the seas to grapple enemy ships with its giant, metallic tentacles
capable of crushing wooden vessels and pushing crew into the sea. It will use its rill to put holes in the
hull as the daemon enhanced heart of the engine seems to enjoy doing it.
Behind the vanguard warships came the Man o War, Commodore Hamzik at the helm. The Man o War
was a ninety-gun galleon that had more kills to its name than any other Sartosan vessel. Roth felt a
surge of hope rise in his chest. The Swordfysh would be long gone by now, but while the pride of Sartosa
still fought there was a chance they could repel the undead invaders.
Roth frowned, adjusting the clockwork lenses embedded in his ruined right eye as he made his
way across the bridge. Something was snaking up the stern of the Man o War, curling outwards as it
rose up from the water. The captain wondered if it was some kind of sea serpent, but he had a sinking
feeling that it was something far worse. He closed his good eye and squinted through his artificial
replacement as the magnifying lenses clicked into place.
It was no living thing, but a black mechanical tentacle, barbed and glinting dully in the gloom.
Each segment was the size of an outhouse. Another tentacle slithered up the side, then another and
another, swaying and curling as they rose high into the air. Seawater and rank black oil drizzled from
between the segmented sections of each tentacle as they rose with the sound of clanking metal. Distant
cries came from the deck of the Man o War as it opened fire on the tentacle-limbs curving around it with
blunt culverins and stab-cannons.
One tentacle was hit square on and recoiled instantly, thrashing like a stuck snake. The other
mechanical arms came down heavily upon the Man o War with a crash of splintering wood and tearing
metal, followed by a juddering roar as barbed segments sawed through its painted finery. To Roth, it
looked as if two taloned hands had reached out of the water and throttled the life from the warship. He
made out a glowing greenish-yellow light beneath the water, no doubt the malevolent eye of whatever
blasphemous creation was wrapping its tendrils around Captain Hamziks ship.
With a series of shuddering, splintering cracks, the mechanical monster tightened its tentacled grip. It
broke its beleaguered prey apart with the ease of an iron gauntlet crushing a tinderbox. Roth almost bit
through his lip as the remnants of the Man o War began to sink, a confusion of broken timbers
spreading across the water. The oil-black tentacles of the mechanical beast withdrew almost
immediately, slick and sickening as they slid back into the water.
Mobility: 5
Training: 4-5
Crew: Thousands
Weapons: Over a hundred cannons
Saw tooth ram
Aranessa Saltspite's warship displays a strong fishy theme, as befitting that belonging to the daughter of
Manann, with crown shells and teeth of sea monsters decorating the hull, seaweed pennants and the
addition of a large fin in place of a rudder. Other defining details include Unicorn Whale horns on the
masts, a ram made from a massive sea beast and a Sea Giant skull figurehead with colossal jewels set in
its eye sockets.
In battle it will use its saw tooth ram to tear open the hulls of enemy ships as over a 100 cannons
unleash their payload.

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THE ARMY OF RUIN .......................................................................................................................................

Max Range: 360 meters

Effective Range: 180 meters

Preferred Range: Melee

Offense: Ungors can loot all sorts of weapons such

Ungor Raiders favor a short bow, with a backup

Defenses: Ungor spearmen sometimes carry

Max Range: Hurled Weapons

Effective Range: Melee

Preferred Range: Melee

Of the actual Beastmen (for Ungors are not considered

Like the Ungor the Gor's role can be divided twofold. In

Offense: Like the Ungors the Gors are

Max Range: 40 meters Thrown weapons (some exceptions)

Effective Range: 20 meters.

Offensive: Hand Axes,

Defensive: Usually they

Max Range: Short Bows- 400m, rarely

Preferred Range: Melee

Norse Hunter: Bow and a hand weapon

Defensive: Thrall- Sometimes light shields, usually nothing

Warrior Bondsmen: Shields and occasionally some form of leather armor.

Norse Hunter : Light leather armor, if anything

Shield Maidens: Round shields in semi-formation in the manner of a hoplite formation.

Max & Effective Range: Melee

Preferred Range: Melee

Alternatively a Chaos Warrior may go on to fight on

A warrior who proves strong enough to excel in the barbaric

Max & Effective Range: Melee

Preferred Range: Melee

Once upon a time proud Chaos

A Forsaken is a random collection

Training/Experience: 1-3 ; 4-5 (Black Orcs)

Max Range: Short Bow (100 meters)

Effective & Preferred Range: Melee

The Chaos dwarfs keep many Orc and Goblin

Max Range: 400 m

Effective Range: 240m

Preferred Range: Right behind you! Or at bow range

Offense: At range a portion of

Should they reach melee they can put up a

Max Range: 50m

Effective Range: 25m

Preferred Range: Neutral

Though far rarer than

Max Range: 300m

Effective Range: 180m

Preferred Range: Neutral

When a regular Dwarf in Warhammer

The immortals may use any of this but were primarily

Gotrek started for Khorreg, a menacing glint in his eye, when a

Training/Experience: Variable (Likely High)

Max & Effective Range: Melee

Preferred Range: Melee

Defenses: Some few

Max Range: Unknown, several hundred meters

Effective Range: 240 meters.

Preferred Range: Spellcasting range

The basic daemon of Tzeentch is the heavily

In stature Pink Horrors are roughly half a mans height. . As fitting a

Perhaps most devastatingly the

Defense: Their skin, described as tough and leatherly

Max Range: ??? (Disease)