Seraphon – Warscrolls

Those rare, hot-tempered Skink Chiefs who revel in bloodshed and carnage bond themselves to a Ripperdactyl – winged menaces renowned for their cruel ferocity. These skinks have little interest in graceful aerial acrobatics – to them, the only thing that matters is the annihilation of those who dare blemish the territories of the Seraphon with their presence. They command ravaging sky-packs of Ripperdactyl Riders, scanning for prey on the ground below before commanding their mount to tuck their wings and dive in for the kill. With snapping jaws and sickle-like talons, Ripperdactyls excel in the chaos of close combat, relying upon the shock of their sudden charge to take large prey by surprise. The Chief’s mount is always the eldest and most ferocious of its brood. While the Ripperdactyl rampages beneath them, they lash out with a skyblade, carving apart their foes in as bloody a manner as possible to inspire nearby riders to new heights of ferocity. This process is aided by the dropping of blot toads – loathsome amphibians whose pheromonic stench drives Ripperdactyls into a maddened frenzy that will only abate when there are no more enemies to disembowel.

Scar-Veterans are champion saurus who have proved their status as the mightiest of their kind over centuries of warfare. The story of countless victories are told by the vicious scars that mark their scales. Though not yet approaching the vast experience of an Oldblood, they are still entrusted by the slann with positions of great authority on the battlefield. They lack any sense of ego or glory-hunger and desire only to serve the Old Ones in the only way they know how. As they hack down enemies by the score with celestite weapons, Scar Veterans inspire their warrior kin to acts of similar heroism, stoking their reptilian fury to new heights. While some Scar-Veterans do battle on foot, most prefer to harness the speed and killing power of a reptilian warbeast. The murderous creatures known as Aggradons are a common choice. These fleet-footed raptors can swiftly transport their master to the most precarious sections of a battlefield and there turn the tide by launching themselves into the fray in a whirling storm of claws and fangs. With an eight-foot killer striking out from atop the Aggradon’s back, there are few foes that can withstand such an onslaught for long.

Airborne daredevils chosen by the sky-god known as the Great Coatl to dominate the skies, Terradon Chiefs ride their flying companions into battle with breathtaking boldness, scything through their foes and leaving blood and disorientation in their wake. These are amongst the largest and most martial of all skinks, marked out by their imposing bone war-masks and a skyblade of refined celestite that can carve through a Steam Tank’s hull. They are granted free rein to lead winged cohorts of fellow Terradon Riders into battle, carrying out swift and agile offensives beyond those of their more stolid and single-minded saurus kin. Skink Chiefs prize Terradons due to their remarkable speed, which allows them to reach any corner of the battlefield in the blink of an eye. Their favoured tactic is to urge the creatures high into the sky and then swoop down in a sheer, vertical dive, urging their beasts to release the orbs of meteoric rock they clutch in their talons. Often masked by the glare of Hysh, this air strike comes so quickly that enemies do not even notice their peril until the murderous missiles start crashing down amidst their ranks, crushing skulls and bursting apart in a lethal spray of stone shrapnel.

Astroliths function as an aetheric nexus amidst the fury of battle. They channel celestial tides of magic in order to empower the spellcraft of nearby Seraphon mages or to ravage the enemy with scorching bolts of heavenly flame. These serpentine totems, lined with star-glyphs and enveloping a floating core of celestite, might once have had a purpose entirely different to that which they now serve. Even the wise slann do not fully comprehend the complexities of their fluctuating symbols which glow and crackle, seemingly at random, with sparking azure light. To the saurus that wields the Astrolith, and to those Seraphon exposed to its glittering presence, this is proof that the Old Ones are watching from afar and realigning events in order to serve the Great Plan. The position of Astrolith Bearer is not one earned through glory; it is assigned to a few destined souls marked from the moment of their spawning. Clad in relic armour and wielding a celestite warclub, they must defend their Astrolith until death, for these icons of the lost gods are few in number and of incalculable importance to the starhosts.

Oldbloods are veterans of a species bred solely for war, survivors of untold battles and the unrelenting annihilators of those who would defy their creator-gods. Taller and broader than their kin, their rough scales are criss-crossed with scars and old wounds, and they radiate a primal authority that all other Seraphon, save for the slann, intuitively defer to. Though not scholars of war, their instincts have been honed by centuries of killing; as a result, an Oldblood innately understands when to strike or when to roar for his warriors to close ranks and form an impenetrable wall of fangs and claws. Like all saurus, Oldbloods can speak, though their grasp of the Seraphon tongue is largely limited to military matters – ‘attack’, ‘defend’, ‘flank’ – as well as concepts such as ‘shelter’, ‘meat’ and ‘itchy’. They much prefer to conduct matters with their weapons and, accordingly, have access to a wealth of esoteric armaments held in the vaults of the Old Ones. Though they have no understanding as to how these relics function, the monomaniacal saurus favour devices capable of intense destruction, such as spears that crackle with Azyrite energy and gauntlets that hurl cosmic fire.

At certain astrological conjunctions, a spawning pool will produce a single skink wreathed in arcane power and marked out for a great destiny. This creature is taken under the wing of their constellation’s senior Starseers, tutored in the astromantic arts and other esoteric disciplines. Starpriests fulfil many roles in Seraphon society; they are diplomats, engineers, prophets and adjutants. Often they are seen in the presence of a Starmaster, acting as living conduits of the slann’s mystical might. Yet Starpriests also possess potent magical abilities of their own, and when conflict rears its ugly head, they gladly bring this arcane fury to bear upon the enemies of the Great Plan. Any foe who imagines one of these diminutive creatures to be a helpless victim soon comes to regret their foolishness. Wearing a sacred feather headdress of Tepok and carrying a Serpent Staff imbued with raw celestite, a Skink Starpriest summons and wields magic with the skill of a master sorcerer. They can channel the war-god Sotek’s potent essence through their serpentine stave, causing the weapons of their fellow Seraphon to seep deadly toxins.

The highest-ranking skink priests are known as Starseers. They are renowned for their miraculous gifts of prophecy and foresight and for their deep connection to the workings of the heavens. Venerable creatures from a species not known for its longevity, the physically frail Starseers prefer to travel atop floating seats of power festooned with charms and astromantic tools – ancient devices that also act as powerful receptors for arcane energies. From their perch, a Starseer surveys the battlefield, channelling the magic of the stars and manipulating it to destroy their enemies or grant boons to their allies. They wield tools befitting of their station, such as orbs of pure star glass, which they use to scry the near-future and foresee those rare and potent moments when the stars align and the patterns of fate reveal themselves. This insight they gift to their own servants, granting them protection from incoming attacks. In the same fashion, a Starseer can harness their deep connection to Azyr to subtly alter the patterns of fate, exposing their enemies to doom and disaster.

Few beings in all existence can rival the arcane mastery of the slann. Surrounded by a nimbus of cosmic power and drifting forth atop a stone dais, these bloated, toad-like beings are the high priests of the Seraphon. Inspiring intense reverence and devotion amongst their cold-blooded kin, their physical frailty belies their true power – as any who have faced them upon the field of battle will attest. The slann’s sole reason for existence is to serve the will of the Old Ones, ensuring that none interfere with the workings of the Great Plan. Those who would threaten this cosmic pattern are destined for destruction. With a slow blink of their eyes or gentle wave of a hand, a Starmaster channels the fearsome potency of cosmic magic. Enemies are reduced to atoms by arcs of scintillating lighting, while the Starmaster’s own warriors are translocated through space and time to emerge wherever they can inflict the most damage. So supreme is a slann’s magical expertise that their skink attendants become vessels through which the Starmaster can project devastating conjurations, allowing their eldritch might to reach every corner of the battlefield.

Oldbloods are veterans of a species bred solely for war, survivors of untold battles and the unrelenting annihilators of those who would defy their creator-gods. Taller and broader than their kin, their rough scales are criss-crossed with scars and old wounds, and they radiate a primal authority that all other Seraphon, save for the slann, intuitively defer to. Though not scholars of war, their instincts have been honed by centuries of killing; as a result, an Oldblood innately understands when to strike or when to roar for his warriors to close ranks and form an impenetrable wall of fangs and claws. In battle, Saurus Oldbloods are death incarnate. Wielding relic weapons taken from the vaults of the Old Ones and sat astride apex predators known as Carnosaurs, they plunge into enemy ranks, hacking and tearing in a terrifying display of primal power. To hear the blood-chilling roar of a Carnosaur is enough to fill the hardiest warriors with mindless fear – but perhaps the beast’s most infamous features are its rending jaws. It is said that once these frenzied creatures scent blood, their bite carries with it enough strength to rip the head clean off a gargant.

Scar-Veterans are champion saurus who have proved their status as the mightiest of their kind over centuries of warfare. The story of countless victories are told by the vicious scars that mark their scales. Though not yet approaching the vast experience of an Oldblood, they are still entrusted by the slann with positions of great authority on the battlefield. They lack any sense of ego or glory-hunger and desire only to serve the Old Ones in the only way they know how. As they hack down enemies by the score with celestite weapons, Scar Veterans inspire their warrior kin to acts of similar heroism, stoking their reptilian fury to new heights. For the most revered Scar-Veterans, only one war-mount will suffice: the mighty Carnosaur. Scar-Veterans typically select the youngest and most bloodthirsty of these monstrous predators, dominating them with sheer force their presence and keeping them in line with regular offerings of fresh meat. Thundering into battle atop their mounts, the Scar-Veteran scans the field of battle for the enemy’s most formidable warriors, instinctively knowing that the gruesome death of these beings will shatter the will of their followers.

Rare and strange Seraphon granted insight into the workings of the Great Plan, Skink Oracles are living vessels of the slann’s will. Bearing no name and existing outside the rigidly structured confines of Seraphon society, they are tasked with investigating disturbances in the realm-wide geomantic pattern of the Astromatrix and other troubling mysteries. To protect them on their blessed missions, Skink Oracles carry a divining rod that allows them to channel the might of their slann masters and to bond with one of the most vicious reptilians found aboard the Seraphon’s temple-ships. Troglodons are vile, blind predators that lurk within caves and deep swamps, using their keen scent and toxic spittle to bring down prey. They are infamous for their cruelty and aggression – not for nothing are they known as the Pale Death amongst the skinks. The pallid creatures have waxy, foul smelling hides that can knit together wounds at an astonishing rate; this, combined with their ferocious temperament, makes them excellent war-mounts. Oracles have a strange connection with the Troglodons, sharing both their twin-pronged tails and their solitary nature, and the beasts protect their Oracle riders faithfully, spewing jets of flesh-melting poison at their foes and raking them with dagger sharp claws.

The most favoured and trusted Skink Chiefs are granted the honour of riding into battle atop a mighty Stegadon – one of the most formidable living war machines in the Seraphon arsenal. This is the perfect platform from which to lead their kin to victory. The ground trembles beneath the terrific weight of these heavily armoured monsters as they charge into the midst of the enemy, crushing and goring in a deadly rampage. Meanwhile, its Chief screeches commands to their nearby warriors and warbeast handlers, directing them to surround and annihilate their enemies. This display of sheer might is enough to bolster the morale of any skink who witnesses it, encouraging them to continue fighting even when facing the most nightmarish of foes. Accompanying the Chief is a crew of well-armed skinks equipped with various bows, javelins and spears. Their duty is to both protect their master and prevent any foes from reaching the Stegadon. Skystreak bows that hurl celestite-tipped bolts can be found atop many howdahs, while sunfire throwers – celestial weapons that spew gouts of cosmic flame – incinerate in an instant those foolish enough to draw too close.

Lord Kroak is the first of the slann, the guiding light of the Seraphon and the being chosen to oversee the completion of the Great Plan – the cosmic pattern ordained by the god-like Old Ones. Even the gods of Sigmar’s Pantheon are mere children to him, for Kroak was shaped by the Old Ones in the murky aeons of prehistory. Granted depthless wisdom and an unrivalled mastery of the aether, he has served his creators faithfully by defending reality against the malignant pull of Chaos at the cost of his physical form. Though his body is now little more than a withered husk slumped upon a palanquin, Kroak’s formidable spirit clings to his mummified remains and coordinates the cosmos-spanning wars of the Seraphon. When fate demands it,the First Spawned takes to the field of battle wielding the powers of creation to restore order. With but a thought, Lord Kroak can summon a hail of burning meteors from the skies or imbue his cold-blooded kin with the very power of the stars. Yet his most fearsome magics are echoes of the devastating sorcery unleashed in the final moments of his life – an eruption of celestial force so powerful that it can shatter armies in an instant and reduce entire cities to dust.

Few creatures are as revered by the skinks as the Spawn of Chotec. These firespewing salamanders are born under the aspect of the sun god himself and seen as manifestations of the divine flames that infuse the Seraphon with vigour. But the Spawn are not alone in their fiery blessings. When the stars pulse with flaring wrath, the spawning pools of the skinks steam and boil, and from within emerge the Sun Acolytes, marked out as Chotec’s favoured by their frills and fins. These are the Spawn’s handlers, tasked with guiding their charges into battle and weaponising their inner fire to incinerate the servants of ruin and destruction. When a Spawn of Chotec reaches maturity, the Sun Acolytes install fragments of technology belonging to the Old Ones in its cranium – relics that allow them to join their minds with the beast in times of war and direct its killing power. Guided by the ruby-tinted light emitted by its handlers’ staffs, the salamander belches gobbets of acid at the enemy. These liquids ignite upon impact, erupting in great fireballs that melt armour and flesh with ease, transforming the victim into a screaming, blazing torch. Should the enemy close in to deliver a killing blow, the Spawn of Chotec will emit streams of searing flame before lumbering forwards to devour the charred remains of its unfortunate prey.

Small in stature but possessed of a reckless fury, Terrawings descend upon their enemies in a cacophony of nerve-shredding screeches, stabbing with their sharp beaks and raking their claws across throats and eyes. Smaller cousins of the skinks’ beloved Terradons, they share the same aggressive love of killing. They are trained by their masters to rush an enemy en masse, relying upon their natural agility to evade incoming attacks while their ear-blasting cries sow confusion and panic. Celestite collars containing fragments of technology belonging to the Old Ones allow skink handlers to direct the Terrawings’ fury to a point, though they are notoriously unruly beasts. Terrawings are particularly skilled at working as one to bring down dangerous foes – one of the creatures will dart in to seize an enemy’s sword arm or pull down their shield while others plunge their beaks into soft and vulnerable parts of their flesh. Before their victims can muster a response, a Terrawing pack flees into the sky, circling above the battlefield and searching for other targets.

Packs of Aggradon Lancers charge ahead of the Seraphon warhosts, launching into the enemy with the force of blazing meteors and leaving the ground littered with ruptured corpses. Aggradons are no noble cavalry steeds but terrifying, rampaging killers that enter a frothing frenzy at the merest taste of blood. Eyes rolling over and drool spilling from their gore-slick jaws, they rip their prey to shreds, kicking out with powerful hind limbs tipped with sickle shaped talons. Only the imperturbable saurus would ever dream of riding such a creature to war, and even amongst their ranks, only a few are capable of doing so. These rare beings are marked out by their distinctive crests, signifying them as the chosen spawn of Itzl, the master of beasts. Only they can approach an Aggradon without risk of evisceration and disembowelment, attaching harnesses and tail feathers to their chosen mount and daring to haul themselves onto its back. From that point on, rider and mount are inseparable, sharing the thrill of the hunt and the joyous slaughter of battle. While their raptor companion tears into the enemy, the crested saurus lashes out with celestite weapons, slaying those who evade the Aggradon’s raking claws.

Seen as glorious paladins of Tepok, the Raptadon Chargers are storied heroes amongst the skinks for they are bold enough to meet the enemy head on in a crashing onslaught of light and fury. Spawned under asterisms sacred to the wisest of Old Ones, these armour-clad riders have the honour of wielding relic weapons taken from temple vaults, such as lances that emit blinding bursts of radiance upon activation, incinerating flesh even as the diamond hard tip of the weapon rams through armour, flesh and bone. Raptadon Chargers typically fight in tandem with their Hunter peers in a one-two combination that few enemies have an answer to. First, the Raptadon Hunters surge forwards on the flanks of the foe’s position, raking them with pinpoint volleys of deadly missiles and causing chaos in their ranks. When the enemy staggers forth in a vain attempt to engage their persecutors, the Chargers emerge, racing to engage in a spearhead formation. They ride into battle at blistering speed, their lances spitting deadly bolts of energy and their mounts shrieking in anticipation of the kill. When they strike home, the results are as spectacular as they are bloody.

The creatures known as Raptadons are the favoured mounts of skink warriors and are said to be sacred creatures of Tepok, possessed of a devious intelligence at least the equal of their rider. Raptadons delight in out-thinking and outmanoeuvring their prey, striking fast and hard with their powerful, clawed hind legs and relying upon their lightning speed to evade retribution. Raptadon Hunters are the elite skirmish cavalry of the Seraphon starhosts who use the pace and agility of these remarkable creatures to full effect. Skink riders perch atop their back, hefting celestite-tipped javelins almost as tall as they are. These missiles are hurled using an atlatl sling, granting them extraordinary range and accuracy as well as the power to punch through armour with ease. Ravaged by these murderous volleys, the enemy might entertain thoughts of giving chase, but this would be a mistake. Raptadon Hunters are agile enough to turn and take flight in the blink of an eye, and those foolish enough to pursue them are simply charging into the jaws of another cunning trap.

Few beasts of the jungle can match the hyper-aggressive savagery of the infamous Ripperdactyl. These winged predators are held in awe by skinks, for they appear to possess no sense of fear and will attack even the fiercest alpha beasts in a flurry of slashing talons and ripping beaks. Indeed, Ripperdactyls fight even when their bellies are full, and they seem to do so for the sheer joy of the kill. Any skink that approaches such a creature with the intention of taming it is risking a most unpleasant fate, as many end up ripped limb from limb. Yet those few that the Great Coatl has chosen for greatness are rewarded with a ferocious companion and join the ranks of the Ripperdactyl Riders to hunt and kill the enemies of the Seraphon from on high. These aggressive formations of aerial shock cavalry swoop down from above with a chorus of whoops and chirruping war cries, striking their prey with moonstone spears and vicious, snapping beaks. Before they meet the enemy claw to claw, Ripperdactyl Riders will seed the killing zone with blot toads, knowing that the odour of these repellant amphibians will drive their already murderous mounts into a flesh-tearing rage.

Few beasts of the jungle can match the hyper-aggressive savagery of the infamous Ripperdactyl. These winged predators are held in awe by skinks, for they appear to possess no sense of fear and will attack even the fiercest alpha beasts in a flurry of slashing talons and ripping beaks. Indeed, Ripperdactyls fight even when their bellies are full, and they seem to do so for the sheer joy of the kill. Any skink that approaches such a creature with the intention of taming it is risking a most unpleasant fate, as many end up ripped limb from limb. Yet those few that the Great Coatl has chosen for greatness are rewarded with a ferocious companion and join the ranks of the Ripperdactyl Riders to hunt and kill the enemies of the Seraphon from on high. These aggressive formations of aerial shock cavalry swoop down from above with a chorus of whoops and chirruping war cries, striking their prey with moonstone spears and vicious, snapping beaks. Before they meet the enemy claw to claw, Ripperdactyl Riders will seed the killing zone with blot toads, knowing that the odour of these repellant amphibians will drive their already murderous mounts into a flesh-tearing rage.

Terradon Riders are a force of lightning-swift, deadly aerial cavaliers who rely upon blistering speed and agility to defeat their enemies. In battle, they are often the first skink formations to do battle with the enemy. Urged on by their skink masters, the winged reptiles tuck their wings and dart past the despairing swipes of their quarry as their riders unleash a flurry of hurled javelins. Some even throw bolas strapped with naturally volatile sunleeches that burst upon impact, showering everything in the vicinity with liquid flame. It is the Terradons themselves that carry the most devastating weapons, however. Clutched between their hind limbs they carry heavy spheres which they release from great heights. These orbs – chunks of meteoric rock enclosed in metal and marked with sigils of destruction – blaze through the skies like miniature comets, detonating in a burst of heavenly starlight. The force of this explosion shatters both sphere and stone, sending out a lethal hail of fragments that is especially deadly to warriors packed together in close proximity.

Terradon Riders are a force of lightning-swift, deadly aerial cavaliers who rely upon blistering speed and agility to defeat their enemies. In battle, they are often the first skink formations to do battle with the enemy. Urged on by their skink masters, the winged reptiles tuck their wings and dart past the despairing swipes of their quarry as their riders unleash a flurry of hurled javelins. Some even throw bolas strapped with naturally volatile sunleeches that burst upon impact, showering everything in the vicinity with liquid flame. It is the Terradons themselves that carry the most devastating weapons, however. Clutched between their hind limbs they carry heavy spheres which they release from great heights. These orbs – chunks of meteoric rock enclosed in metal and marked with sigils of destruction – blaze through the skies like miniature comets, detonating in a burst of heavenly starlight. The force of this explosion shatters both sphere and stone, sending out a lethal hail of fragments that is especially deadly to warriors packed together in close proximity.

To fight the Hunters of Huanchi is to wage war with the unseen. Before the enemy has even managed to uncover their scaled assailants, toxic darts riddle their flesh and send poison seeping into their veins. These peerless stalkers are a sub-species of skink who possess chameleonic powers gifted unto them by Huanchi, god of the hunt. They can blend their physical form with shadow-stuff and thus vanish seamlessly into their environment. Staying silent and motionless for hours on end, they wait for enemies to stumble helplessly into their trap before emerging to deal the killing strike. Many stalkpacks of Huanchi’s warriors favour the blowpipe, a traditional weapon of skink-kind that perfectly suits their inherent talents. These weapons are filled with darts dipped into the milky poisons secreted by certain species of frogs. These toxins can be blended and brewed to inflict a variety of effects, from total paralysis to extreme hallucinations. The most commonly used toxins cause almost sudden death. Bands of blowpipe-wielding Hunters of Huanchi are employed by the slann as scouts and temple guardians, eliminating those who threaten the Serpahon’s territory without ever revealing their presence.

The Hunters of Huanchi are proficient with many weapons, for, unlike the majority of skinks, they are solitary and solemn beings who dedicate their entire lives to mastering the art of ambush warfare. Following the tenets laid down by their namesake deity, they prefer to stalk their prey unseen – only striking when the enemy’s guard is lowered and they are at their most vulnerable. Ranged weapons are their favoured tools for this purpose, for they suit a chameleon skink’s slight frame and dexterous ability. Perhaps the most devastating of these are the starstone bolas. These weapons consist of a leather strap containing multiple moonstone orbs, each charged with Azyrite energy. When thrown, the bolas unleash a sizzling blast that burns and blackens the target’s flesh. As the enemy reels, scorched and half blinded, they are skewered by volleys of hunter javelins launched with perfect accuracy. The Hunters of Huanchi do not hesitate to charge in amongst their prey to deal a killing blow. They swing light maces and use their javelins, which have celestium points sharp enough to cut diamond, as short spears to finish off those who survived their initial barrage.

The largest and most physically dominant of all Seraphon, Kroxigor can rip a human in two with their bare claws and bite the head off an ogor with a single, snapping lunge. With scales as tough as diamond and massive spiked clubs in hand, they are unstoppable battering rams sent lumbering into the midst of the enemy to cause bloody havoc. As the broken forms of shattered foes are sent hurtling aside, the Kroxigor roar in triumph as their prey are left scrabbling desperately to escape the onslaught. For all their incredible strength, Kroxigor are slow-witted creatures barely capable of uttering their own names in the Azyrite tongue. When not called upon to fight, they are utilised as heavy labour for the ever-expanding Seraphon temple-cities, hauling gigantic blocks of stone or pieces of rare technology into place. Even then, they require the prompting of skink overseers, who possess a potent connection to their gigantic kin – almost as if the Old Ones purposefully created them to work in concert. Kroxigor obey their commands instinctively, seemingly calmed by the presence of the diminutive lizards. On the eve of battle, skink priests identify those Kroxigor marked by cosmic portents and present them with sacred vestments and enormous moonstone hammers, bolstering their terrible strength yet further.

The majority of Kroxigor have roles outside of combat, but the Kroxigor Warspawned exist solely to annihilate the enemies of the Old Ones. Once a rare breed, the Warspawned were mostly employed as temple guardians or honour guards for the slann. Yet as the wars for the realms grew more savage and desperate, they began to spawn in greater numbers, as if summoned by the Old Ones to defend the workings of the Great Plan. They are even more single-minded than their kin, spending much of their lives standing guard until ordered otherwise and attended to by devoted skink acolytes. But when they do enter the field of battle, they are as terrifying as they are destructive, laying waste to their foes and leaving their scales caked with blood and gore. In battle, they wield double-headed picks carved from diamond and ancient bone that can punch holes through a war machine’s hull. Even more fearsome are a Warspawned’s vice-like jaws – almost supernaturally powerful, their bite can slice through solid steel, and once they lock their jaws on their prey, there is no hope of escape.

Utterly implacable and unyielding, the Saurus Guard are a protector caste of Seraphon warriors dedicated to the defence of their race’s most precious assets. It is their sacred duty to safeguard not only their constellation’s Starmaster but also its shrines, ziggurats and spawning chambers, ensuring that any foes who threaten these treasures meet a swift and brutal end. Saurus Guard are unusual in that they are not spawned in full cohorts. Instead, whenever a member of this elite company falls in battle, another warrior arises from the sacred pools to take their place. It is said that the first of the Saurus Guard came into being without the ability to feel fear, for they were spawned by the Old Ones to be the perfect custodians of the Seraphon temples. It is certainly true that they will not flee in the face of any foe and will hurl their bodies in the path of anything that threatens their ward. When they tighten their formation to form a wall of diamond-hard scales and star-blessed shields, they become a formidable obstacle that even a gargant would struggle to break.

Saurus Warriors are creatures created for a singular purpose: to dominate the battlefield. Seven feet of rippling muscle, they possess a bite that can cleave through hardened metal and a tail that can shatter limbs with a single, sweeping blow. Their iron-hard scales negate the need for armour, save for the ceremonial plates inscribed with sigils of the Old Ones they wear about their flanks. In battle, they hurl themselves against their foes without hesitation – striking out with celestite weapons and sinking their fangs into exposed throats and bellies with the fervour of a hungry predator – until their hides are awash with gore. For all their ferocity, Saurus Warriors are not beholden to their primal fury. Their bloody attacks mask a rigid cohesion imbued in them from the moment of their spawning. Each saurus cohort fights under the grizzled leadership of an Alpha, obeying their commands without question – even if that means sacrificing their own lives to achieve some greater purpose. Neither unthinking machines nor blood-crazed killers, Saurus Warriors are utterly dedicated to one, all-consuming purpose: the eradication of all who threaten the Old Ones’ designs.

Frailer than their saurus cousins, skinks make up for their lack of raw power with agility, cunning and a natural aptitude for skirmish combat. Few foes can keep pace with these fleet-footed reptiles as they strike and fade away, leaving their quarry riddled with poisonous blowpipe darts. Such tactics are a vital tool in the Seraphon way of war, pulling apart enemy formations so that the armoured wedge of the saurus can deal the killing blow. As confusion reigns amidst the maelstrom of battle, skinks circle back to strike at the flanks of their foe with ruthlessness at least equal to their larger kin, falling upon isolated troops with moonstone javelins, cudgels and daggers. By far the most numerous of all Seraphon species, skinks are not born warriors. When they are not called upon to fight, they spend most of their time performing the tasks that keep the temple-cities and ships functioning – acting as administrators, technicians and artisans. Yet such is their devotion to the Old Ones that they will drop their tools whenever the situation demands it, gladly sacrificing their lives for the greater cause.

Though only a lowly priest in the complex rungs of the skink hierarchy, Kixi-Taka is looked upon with favour by his slann masters. Entrusted with several relics of Old One technology, he faithfully leads the Starblood Stalkers, utterly committed to the Great Plan. Klaq-Trok, meanwhile, is a hulking mass of muscle and speaks little even for one of his taciturn breed and the savagery with which he annihilates his enemies is wholly inspiring to the Starblood Stalkers.

A Bastiladon is a lumbering, living fortress with armour plating thick enough to deflect a cannonball. So charged are they with cosmic energies that even the spectral blades of gheists cannot breach them. Favoured in battle by skinks due to their stolid indifference to danger and their steady gait, Bastiladons are an everpresent sight amongst the hosts of the Seraphon, often hauling precious war-relics and crews of javelin-wielding warriors into battle. A Bastiladon’s solid, lumbering form is perfect for ferrying the Arks of Sotek, relics of the Serpent God. These devices open breaches in the fabric of space and time that are then connected to the snake-filled vaults of Sotek dedicated temples. Through these breaches pour wriggling swarms of venomous serpents that slither all over their prey and overwhelm them with lethally poisonous bites. Should any foes survive this experience, they are easily dealt with by a bone-crushing blow from the Bastiladon’s club-like tail or cut down by its skink handlers. The Bastiladons themselves are unafraid of the snakes that pour from their backs; their natural plating is so thick that no fangs could pierce it.

A Bastiladon is a lumbering, living fortress with armour plating thick enough to deflect a cannonball. So charged are they with cosmic energies that even the spectral blades of gheists cannot breach them. Favoured in battle by skinks due to their stolid indifference to danger and their steady gait, Bastiladons are an everpresent sight amongst the hosts of the Seraphon, often hauling precious war-relics and crews of javelin-wielding warriors into battle. The sheer size and bulk of the Bastiladons makes them well suited as living mounts for the most dangerous of the Seraphon’s weapons. Foremost of these are the Solar Engines, particularly devastating artefacts said to be older than the Mortal Realms themselves. These glowing crystal mechanisms focus celestial energy into blinding beams that flash across the battlefield. Anything caught in their trajectory is bisected and incinerated in an instant. So fierce are the temperatures emitted by a Solar Engine that only the heat resistant scales of the Bastiladon can withstand them – and the device has the added benefit of keeping the beast pleasantly warm on more frigid battlefields.

Only the most ancient and formidable Stegadons are trusted to safeguard the arcane relics known as an Engine of the Gods. These arcane treasures were forged by the Old Ones in aeons past and possess the power to alter reality on a fundamental level. Crackling with the energy of a newborn star, one of these devices can send forth cascades of astral fire, restore the spark of life to slain Seraphon, or even unravel the pattern of time itself to ensure victory. These effects are as powerful as they are unpredictable, for the precise knowledge of how to operate an Engine of the Gods was lost millennia ago. The skink attendants trained by the slann to weaponise these devices do so by pressing down upon a series of glowing glyph-plaques, memorising complex patterns of activation as best they can. In doing so, they channel and then direct the Engine’s vast reserves of power, trusting in the Old Ones that the results will be favourable. This is not always the case. It is not unknown for one of the sacred machines to tear itself apart in a fiery detonation, destroying both Stegadon and crew in the blink of an eye. However, when these esoteric treasures are unleashed upon the enemy, the effects are pronounced and catastrophic.

A charging Stegadon is a force of nature. Several dozen tonnes of armoured hide and stone-hard horns is enough to pulverise any obstacle – living or otherwise. Those enemies that the mighty beast does not stomp flat are spitted upon its massive horns or torn in two by its rending bite as the Stegadon’s unstoppable charge rampages on. Those foolish enough to attack such a creature from behind in an attempt to avoid its charge instead find their chests swiftly caved in by its lashing tail. One of these living wrecking balls is terrifying enough, but when several of them are unleashed together they can annihilate entire armies. Few things inspire a skink warrior more than seeing such tremendous violence unleashed – a true testament to the power of the Old Ones. It is considered a great honour to earn a place on the crew of a Stegadon, riding atop a howdah of gold and stone as the beast beneath charges headlong into battle. Those chosen for this duty are granted skystreak bows that hurl celestite-tipped bolts and javelins to hurl at enemies below. Constellations dedicated to Chotec, God of the Sun, prefer to employ deadly sunfire throwers, summoning cosmic flames and sending them cascading across their foes.