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Captain Worlak grunted with satisfaction as the gates of the fortress were blown to atoms and J Company advanced on the Traitor's position. Horren's assault platoon gunned their jump packs and flew forward into the gateway. It would all be over soon.

Worlak rubbed one band over his stubbled chin, automatically tracing the zigzag scars that were the mark of a Warrior of the Kratch. He bad feared that his 42nd Vorgarn would be assigned to some other duties because they were raised from the same homeworld as the traitor 38th, and had made sure that his superiors knew of the hereditary blood-feud between the Kratch of the 42nd and the Tarsh of the 38th. He had written long dispatches pleading for the duty of stamping the 38th out - to eradicate this stain upon the honour of the homeworld, to make a centuries-old cultural enmity serve the Imperial cause, and as many other arguments as be could muster

He did not, of course, mention his strongest reason - that the traitors of the 38th were led by Tarsh Mardik. Cultural enmities between units were accepted as natural, but personal vendettas between commanders could interfere with judgement, and were sternly discouraged.

A huge explosion announced that the citadel was taken, and Worlak burled his jetcycle up and forward, puncbing the comm into life as be did so. He had to find out.

"Horren. What news?"

"We have the command bunker, Captain."

"And?"

"We have saved the one you wish."

"Good. You will be rewarded."

"We are rewarded already, Captain trezny." Horren used the Kratch word for a leader of warriors, with the highest honorific suffix. The Imperium was all but forgotten - this was a Vorgarn affair, and Horren was a Kratch warrior who was very happy with his leadership. The screams which could be beard in the background bore out his words.

Worlak strode into the wreckage of the command centre to find the traitor commander chained up, away from the bodies of his men. He paled visibly as Worlak took off his visored helmet, revealing the empty socket of his right eye.

"You!"

"Yes, Tarsb Mardik. Me." He stripped off his uniform jacket, and at his signal one of his men unchained the captive. The others bad begun to spread out into a loose circle around the two.

"It's been a long time, eh, Mardik?" Worlen drew the silver handled Kratch bunting knife from his boot. "What must it be - twenty-five years, Terra standard? I expect you'll almost have forgotten by now. But I never forgot. I have this empty socket to remind me." He dropped the knife on the floor of the bunker and backed away until the knife was exactly halfway between the two of them.

"You owe me an eye, Tarsh Mardik. And I've come to collect."

Simultaneously, the two men lunged forward for the knife.

INTRODUCTION

Indeed, as far as the line troopers of the Imperial Guard are concerned, the whole universe is at war. The Imperial Guard makes up the vast bulk of the Imperial military machine; recruited from the planetary defence forces of the Imperium's millions of worlds, it is a huge military force of Humans and Abhumans.

No one man knows the true size of the Imperial Guard, and only the huge Codex Exercitus, maintained on Terra by the highest ranks of the Administratum, contains the necessary data for such a calculation. There are some guesses and rumours - some say that if the whole of the Imperial Guard were paraded shoulder-to-shoulder they would cover the entire planetary surfaces of such-and-such a system, or stretch from Terra to such-and-such a star. The only thing known for certain is that the Imperial Guard is unimaginably vast.

Because of its enormous size, the Imperial Guard is also an incredibly diverse organisation. To define the configuration of every company and platoon, to describe every variation in troop organisation, equipment and tactics, would require a work many times the size of this one and the lifetimes of many scribes beside your servant who writes this. Of necessity, then, we must confine ourselves to standard-issue equipment, common troop types and conventional tactics.

IMPERIAL GUARD REGIMENTS

Regiments are identified by the name of their homeworld, and a number - for example, the 8th Necromunda Regiment is the eighth Regiment of the Imperial Guard to have been raised from the hive world of Necromunda at a particular raising. Regiments are often given unofficial names by their commanders; thus, the 8th Necromunda Regiment call themselves 'The Spiders', and use the symbol of a spider as an unofficial emblem. Their commander, Colonel Raeven Mortz, even goes so far as to keep one of the deadly Necromundan Greenback spiders as a pet and mascot.

COMPANIES

PLATOONS

RECRUITMENT

Recruitment for the Imperial Guard creams off the elite of the planetary defence forces, according to a series of quotas set by the Administratum. Using a complex system of probability computations and battle forecasts backed up by the Imperial Tarot, the Administratum issues a requirement for troops, which is passed down to the Imperial Commanders of individual planets. The Imperial Commander can then formulate his population control policy for the next generation around the Administratum's requirement for Imperial Guard troops and his own requirements for labour.

Quotas are normally set each generation, but in times of great need, the Administratum may require a planet to supply two or more raisings from a single generation. During the wars of the Horus Heresy, for example, Necromunda was required to provide dozens of separate raisings, supplying the Guard with hundreds of millions of troops in total. Many hive worlds suffered similar burdens, while at the other end of the scale, many agricultural and feral worlds were almost entirely stripped of their meagre populations, and had to be left for several generations in order for their populations to recover.

Among the planetary defence forces, it is considered a great honour to be chosen for recruitment into the Imperial Guard. Many young hopefuls, especially on hive worlds and factory planets, flock to the planetary defence force in the hope of being found worthy of the Imperial Guard - their only chance of escape from their claustrophobic homeworlds.

Methods of recruitment vary according to the world involved. On hive worlds such as Necromunda, it is common to draft entire street gangs into the planetary defence force - in effect, to legitimise their activities and give them formal control of an area. The most successful of these - and some are so successful as to threaten the long- term stability of a wide area - are drafted as complete platoons or companies into the Imperial Guard. On feral and mediaeval worlds, the planetary defence force is recruited from the warrior caste by a series of trials and ordeals, and given names such as the Knights of the Star Lord or the Eagle Warriors. The greatest of these, chosen again by trial, may join the Warriors from the Stars when their great ships come out of the sky. Some feral-world warriors will commit ritual suicide if they fail to meet recruitment criteria.

It hardly felt any different - the old feeling was still there Even after eighteen months in the belly of a spaceship in basic training. Even though they were now officially the Second Platoon, F Company, 23rd Vintor Regiment, Imperial Guard. Even though Rubblebead was toting a missile launcher in place of his home-made bombs.

Even the uniforms were a good omen. A hundred- to-one shot, minimum. Owing to local dyestuff supplies in the Hoptor system, the uniforms were a rusty brown. The colour of dried blood. The colours of the Blood Rats.

Hoptor IV was a borne from borne. And the Blood Rats bad some fresh turf to carve themselves out.

An Imperial Guard Regiment is recruited from a single planet at a single raising. The Regiment is shipped to its posting after it is raised, but does not receive replacements for losses. Because of the vastness of the Imperium, and its huge Human population, it is rare for the transport of personnel to justify the huge costs, risks and time-lags involved. However, in many Regiments the Guardsmen's offspring are brought up within the Regiment, and are recruited when they come of age. Until that time, they perform menial and support duties, and may fight as a probitor unit alongside the rest of the Regiment, being fully inducted into the Regiment when they have proved themselves in battle.

Because of the lack of ongoing recruitment, it is common for Regiments to become severely depleted, and it is thought that a great many Imperial Guard Regiments are currently at less than half their founding strength. In some cases, such as the 22/4 Valeria, two or more Regiments serving on a world may be combined to form a new Regiment, which is given the name of the base world if its parent Regiments came from different homeworlds.

TRAINING AND DEPLOYMENT

The Imperial Guard is most often deployed into war zones or on planets where a garrison is required. Garrison postings are seldom the easy tasks they may seem, for often an Imperial Guard garrison has to conquer a world, or recapture it from Orks or other aliens, before they can garrison it. Less common postings include attachment to the entourage of a Rogue Trader, and posting to a Titan Order as Secutor support troops.

A successful Regiment can look forward to being granted the overlordship of the planet to which they are posted. If the planet remains peaceful and meets all its quotas, the Regimental Commander may in time be rewarded with the title of Imperial Commander and the governorship of the planet, while substantial land grants maybe made to Guard veterans who retire from active service due to old age. In due course of time, the Regiment will become a hereditary nobility, almost indistinguishable from the now-peaceful native population. The descendants of the original garrison may well be recruited, first into the planetary defence force, and then into the Imperial Guard Regiments that are raised there.

Occasionally, the powers and responsibilities of office may corrupt a Regimental Commander who is appointed Governor of his garrison planet, and he may be tempted to rebel, as in the case of the 3rd Vorradion Regiment on Bradur IV. In such cases, Imperial justice is swift and total - less than a hundred days after the rebellion began, the governor's palace was assaulted by the Space Marines of 3 Company, Legio Astartes Blood Drinkers, with orders to take no prisoners and accept no surrender terms.

SUPPLY

Uniforms are supplied at the foundation, but are not replaced thereafter; it is the responsibility of the Regimental Commander to arrange the supply of such items, and in an old-established Regiment it is common for uniforms to vary from platoon to platoon. The basic pattern of the uniform will remain the same, as laid down by Imperial regulations, but its colour and material will vary according to what is available at the time. Thus, for example, a Regimental Commander may requisition a batch of material from a factory on the Regiment's posting world, and if only blue material is available, then the replacement uniforms will be blue.

TROOP TYPES

ADEPTUS MECHANICUS

Servitors
Servitors are Humans modified by the Adeptus Mechanicus, with the sole purpose of operating machinery. They are selected from various sources - the Penal Batallions, planetary reformatories, captured rebel forces and other sources of unwanted manpower - and then brain-scrubbed, physically adapted if necessary, and given intensive biochem and training. The result is less than Human, but has vastly enhanced mechanical capabilities. Servitors are able to operate their machines without thought, by instinctive response resulting from their intensive training and modification, and a single Servitor can perform the functions of two normal crewmen.

COMMISSARS

SANCTIONED PSYKERS

ASSAULT PLATOONS

ROUGH RIDERS

Rough Rider units are sometimes issued with a nine-foot hunting lance whose head bears a shaped explosive charge. These are used for hunting big game on Feral Worlds - the quarry is driven to bay by troopers acting as beaters, and the officers draw lots to decide who will dispatch it with the lance - but they are also used by the Guard in battle. Rough Rider Lancers have proved particularly effective against riotous mobs and massed hordes of Gretchins and similar opponents; they can sometimes even produce a better result against heavier, power-armoured troops than the standard-issue lasgun of the Imperial Guard.

BEASTMEN

OGRYNS

Owing to their size and basic intelligence, Ogryns are normally equipped with weapons that have been designed specifically for them - mainly low-technology weapons and primitive armour. Grenades must be specially made for the Ogryns' large hands, and take the form of large metal cylinders with a ring-pull detonator at one end. Ogryn leaders are often equipped with a weapon they have dubbed the Ripper Gun, a simple but effective drum-fed, large- calibre auto-shotgun firing canister scatter-shot.

RATLINGS

PENAL BATTALIONS

New troops have their heads shaved and tattooed with the unit insignia, and explosive slave-collars are put around their necks. The collars are a disciplinary device rather than a means of turning the troops into Human Bombs - the blast is directed inwards, and will have little effect on anyone standing even a few feet away. The collars are controlled by the Adeptus Mechanicus personnel accompanying the force, and are detonated sparingly, when discipline needs to be enforced without destroying the troops' morale.

Penal Battalions are a part of the regular fighting force of the Imperial Guard, and a commander who regards Penal Battalion troops merely as cannon-fodder and uses them wastefully is liable to end up in a Penal Battalion himself.

HUMAN BOMBS

However, the Emperor in his mercy has ordained that Penal Battalion troops should have the opportunity to repent and atone for their crimes - hence, the Human Bombs.

Any Penal Legion trooper may volunteer for service as a Human Bomb. In addition to his normal equipment, he is fitted with an explosive harness. The moment he dons the harness, he is absolved by the Emperor and the burden of his guilt is lifted. He also has a chance of freedom, for some of the harnesses are rigged not to explode - if he survives the battle, he is absolved and free.

OGRYNS IN THE IMPERIUM

Obviously, those planets which are selected for use as prison worlds have no better use to the Imperium; they are generally barren, and lacking in native food species. They are harsh environments, and those who survive there must be unusually resilient.

EVOLUTION AND PHYSIOLOGY

Firstly, their size and strength. Ogryns are generally half as tall again as the average Human. They are more heavily built, even in proportional terms, with a muscle mass to height ratio almost twice that of a Human. Their bones are heavy, and their skin is thick, with few sensory nerves.

This build is largely a response to hostile native life-forms; the Ogryn has become large enough to fight most native predators and win, using the improvised and primitive weapons which are the only defence available on a prison planet. It also suits the Ogryn for a predatory role, relying on size and strength to overcome prey.

Secondly, their digestive system. In response to the generally barren nature of their home planets, Ogryns have developed a digestive system which is capable of deriving nutrition from almost any organic substance. Their capacity for eating - far in excess of that of a normal Human - derives from the need to eat everything available when food is found, and store it against the long fast until more food is discovered.

Finally, their intelligence. On their home planets, the constant struggle to survive and find food leaves no time for any other activity, and the Ogryn brain has undergone a degree of atrophy. They are often thought of as stupid by normal Humans, and indeed their intelligence and reasoning capacity is lower. However, their brains are attuned to survival - fighting and eating - to such a perfect degree that, on their own terms, there are few races in the known galaxy that can match them.

APPEARANCE

Ogryns have large heads - the thick bone of the skull often makes them look disproportionately large by Human standards - with heavy, prominent jaws. It is common for the lower canine teeth to grow into protruding tusks. Fighting is natural to Ogryns, and even the friendly altercations they have among themselves can lead to minor injuries. Ogryns are almost always heavily scarred, and broken teeth are common.

There is some variation on the basic Ogryn physique, according to homeworld. Ogryns from the planet Skraag (Imperial designation Beta-Entebes III) tend to be taller and rangier than other Ogryns, with a distinct yellow-brown tinge to their skin owing to the high concentration of volcanic sulphur dust in the atmosphere; they are also renowned for their highly distinctive smell. On the other hand, Ogryns from Ugglob (Imperial designation Dranno IV) are shorter and stockier, with larger heads. The high humidity of this planet's atmosphere has led to Ugglob Ogryns developing an astonishing range of warts and other fungal disorders.

The majority of Ogryns cultivate an appearance which is in keeping with the mediaeval level of technology of their homeworlds; skins, coarse cloth and chain mail armour are common, as is the practice of body-painting, tattooing, and ritual scarring. Hair varies in coarseness and colour, and many Ogryns are completely bald. Those who are chosen to lead Ogryn squads in the Imperial Guard often adopt military styles, with short hair, heavy boots and fatigue-style trousers. Some will have their unit badge tattooed onto their chests, along with victory and devotional symbols, such as Imperial eagles, skulls and crude copies of other Imperial insignia. Like other Imperial Guard troops, Ogryns are enthusiastic collectors of battle badges, but lacking helmets they often attach them directly to the thick bone of their skulls.

Ogryns have scant regard for hygiene by normal Human standards, and the phrase 'downwind of an Ogryn' is widely used to describe atmospheric contamination and other malodours. Most Ogryns are infested with parasites of various types and sizes, and certain species are actively cultivated as pets and emergency food stores. Some of these parasites are very large - the Scorathian Armpit Louse, for example, is the size of a Terran rat, and is bred and traded among the Ugglob Ogryns and others with whom they come into contact. Races and fights involving these creatures are a common off-duty pursuit, with up to a day's rations being bet on the outcome.

The Ogryns have been known to produce mutants - although some argue that they are mutants to begin with. On the basis of Imperial studies to date, the probability and extent of mutation appears to be almost exactly the same as that for normal Humans. It is rare in the extreme for an Ogryn to develop psychic powers.

OGRYNS AND THE IMPERIAL CULT

During the wars of the Horns Heresy, Ogryns served to great effect in the Imperial Guard forces of both sides. From the records that are still available, it seems that those who fought for Horus had been told that they were fighting for the Emperor, and that the Loyalists were in fact traitors.

Ogryns are particularly impressed by the Commissars of the Imperial Guard, whom they regard as being in constant touch with the Emperor himself. An Ogryn will always show a Commissar the utmost respect, enquiring endlessly about what the Emperor thought of various things the Ogryn has done and even offering the Commissar his own ration to gain favour.

While the Commissars normally confine their attention to the Human officers of an imperial Guard force, there have been occasions, in forces with a particularly strong Ogryn presence, when an Ogryn platoon has had a Commissar of its own. The presence of a Commissar will inspire Ogryns to outstanding acts of reckless courage and self-sacrifice - after all, as they reason, if they have a Commissar with them, then the Emperor must be watching them even harder than usual.

Some Imperial Guard Commissars have made a speciality of dealing with Ogryns, and have come to understand their psychology and motivations as much as any normal Human ever can. These so-called Ogryn Commissars' are sometimes regarded with disdain and suspicion by their fellows, who are suspicious of the Ogryn outlooks and mannerisms that they have acquired from their close contact with these huge Abhumans.

OGRYNS IN IMPERIAL SERVICE

The Imperial Guard
Every inhabited world in the Imperium has to provide troops for the Imperial Guard, and the Ogryn homeworlds are no exception. Indeed, the lure of regular rations and adventure on worlds whose climates are seldom harsher than home is enough to keep millions of Ogryns flocking to join the Guard.

Ogryns generally prove to have an ideal temperament for service in the Imperial Guard. They keep to themselves for the most part, although they have a great respect for officers - and particularly Commissars - whom they see as close to the beloved Emperor. Ogryns have little in common with the other strains of Abhuman, but will co-operate with all other parts of the Imperial Guard. They can respect Beastmen for their ferocity and Squats for their hardiness, although they are never shy to point out their own superiority in both departments. Ogryns have mixed feelings about Ratlings; sniping is the lowest and most worthless form of warfare to the Ogryn mind, but on the other hand it can pay to keep on good terms with the supply and quartermaster staff, where many Ratlings serve.

Organisation
Ogryns do not follow the usual Imperial Guard practice of raising a whole Regiment from a single homeworld. Instead, they are attached to Guard Regiments of normal Humans, according to Administratum instructions. Imperial Guard Ogryn troops are invariably organised into squads of five, and all the Ogryn squads in an Imperial Guard Company are put in the field together, in the same way as a platoon of normal Human troops.

Each Ogryn squad has a Sergeant-Ogryn leader, who has been subjected to Adeptus Mechanicus brain-enhancement biochem, or BONE treatment (Biochemical Ogryn Neural Enhancement). Ogryn leaders are known as BONEheads, a title which they bear with considerable pride. BONEheads are able to be educated to a limited degree in small-unit tactics and the operation of equipment such as communicators and weapons like the ripper gun.

Within the Guard, Ogryns are restricted to their own squads, and do not normally rise above the rank of Sergeant. Even with BONE treatment, their minds are not suited to command of a force larger than a squad. Ogryns are sometimes modified into Servitors by the Adeptus Mechanicus, for tasks where their size is an advantage.

Equipment
Ogryns in the Imperial Guard are normally armed with the same primitive weapons that they use on their homeworlds. Large crushing and cleaving weapons such as maces, axes and even tree-trunk clubs are common.

They are trained in the use of grenades, but the normal grenade types are too small for their large, clumsy hands. Instead, they are issued with a specially-designed Ogryn frag grenade, which takes the form of a metal cylinder six to eight inchçs long and two to three inches in diameter, with a ring-pull arming mechanism at one end.

BONEheads may be issued with the Fragmentation Autogun (Ogryn), universally known as the Ripper Gun. This is a drum-fed, large-bore automatic shotgun firing heavy shot. Its limited range is no great disadvantage given the Ogryn preference for close assaults, and at short ranges its effects are devastating.

Armour varies widely. In general, the supply of advanced armour types in Ogryn sizes is limited, and most Imperial Guard Ogryns wear primitive armour brought with them from their homeworld. This is a mixture of chain, plate, and the hides of exceptionally resilient homeworld creatures, such as the Armidiliian Plate Lizard. Limited supplies of Ogryn-sized flak and mesh armour are available to some Imperial Guard Regiments, and this is generally issued only to BONEheads.

On the whole, Ogryns show a preference for armour which leaves the arms free to deliver 'a good, solid belt'.

Vehicles
For the most part, Ogryn platoons do not use vehicles, owing to their large size and incomplete grasp of technology. However, BONEheads do have the degree of intelligence required to drive a Rhino APC, and some units of the Imperial Guard have specially converted open-top Rhinos for transporting Ogryn squads.

Standards
Although they do not have Command Sections like other Guard troops, Ogryns often adopt unofficial standards of their own. These are usually carried by the Sergeant-Ogryn leading the platoon - and sometimes all the Ogryns in the platoon are fitted with back-banners. Banner designs vary widely. As well as copies of regimental standards, Ogryn banners may feature an image of the Emperor, portrayed as an Imperial Guard Commissar - a natural symbol of authority to the Ogryn mind. They also use tribal designs from their homeworlds.

In addition to their standards, Ogryns often mark successful battles or individual kills with tattoos, usually based on the symbols of their homeworld tribe. These may be simple stripes of colour, or small skulls, usually on the face or arms.

Service Outside the Imperial Guard
The vast bulk of Ogryns in Imperial service belong to the Imperial Guard, but it is not unknown for them to serve in other capacities. Like other Imperial Guard troops, Ogryns can be seconded to the entourage of a Rogue Trader, wearing a tabard bearing the Rogue Trader's colours and emblem in addition to their normal clothing and armour.

On some Imperial worlds, Ogryns are drafted into the Adeptus Arbites, since their strength, ferocity and imposing bulk make them effective on a psychological level as well as in actual conflict. Often in such cases the mere presence of Ogryns can prevent trouble or bring it swiftly to an end.

Planetary governors and other dignitaries sometimes employ Ogryns as bodyguards, having found that a squad of these huge Abhumans at one's shoulder can add a certain amount of authority to one's commands. Certain Inquisitors, too, will travel with Ogryn servants; these individuals will normally have received BONE treatment.

RENEGADE OGRYNS

The Imperial Guard draws on many different worlds and many different cultures for its troops: some are feral worlds, knowing only the axe and spear; others fight their wars with lasgun and bolter. This diversity brings a wide range of customs and rituals into the Guard and various unusual types of warrior. Among these are the Rough Riders, horse-mounted Guardsmen armed with powerful explosive lances, and Whiteshields, young inexperienced warriors courageously trying to prove their valour.

ROUGH RIDERS

Even among the feral and mediaeval worlds, there is an enormous range of cultural types which may give rise to elite cavalry forces. There are the outriders of nomadic herding cultures, as on Dolgan IV and Temujin's World; there are mounted raiders such as the Horse Lodges of Cochise and the kozaki of Novgorod; and there are formalised horse-warrior aristocracies such as the Holy Orders of Avalon and the badokai of Epsilon Tokugawa III.

Common to all these planets with diverse cultures and customs is their equestrian elite, a warrior class that has accumulated generations of experience and tactical wisdom in the use of cavalry on the battlefield. These horse-warriors are always subject to close inspection by the Imperium, and they are frequently drafted by the Imperial Guard when a regiment is raised from their homeworld. On the more advanced worlds, cavalry units are always incorporated into the Planetary Defence Force and it is from this that the Guard recruits. On some of the more primitive worlds, the Guard recruits directly from tribes and clans of horse-warriors - legends and great epics are born at these times, and tales of undying heroes joining the Star Riders to battle on the Fields of the Night are commonplace.

The bond between a rider and his mount is not easily broken, and the horse-warriors are not recruited merely for their courage or skill at arms. The Guard does not overlook their specialised skills, and riders are always accompanied by their mounts when they are drafted into a regiment. After retraining with the weapons and tactics of the Imperium, these horse-warriors are formed into mounted platoons, universally known as Rough Riders.

TRAINING

It is not only the riders who learn new skills - their mounts are given biochem treatment and extensive training to prepare them for modem battlefield conditions. Once they arrive at the combat zone, months or years after leaving the familiar terrain of their homeworld, Rough Rider horses will not panic under fire, or shy away from unusual sights and smells such as Orks and Dreadnoughts.

Over the cratered terrain of a battlefield that has suffered a heavy bombardment, horses have often proved superior to motorbikes or armoured vehicles. A platoon of skilled Rough Riders can be an effective assault and skirmishing force, able to move rapidly over the broken ground, and equally able to climb steep slopes as to gallop along narrow ravines. And when they finally confront the enemy, Rough Riders can charge into the opposing lines with their explosive lances, quickly changing to lasguns and laspistols after the initial onslaught.

CUSTOMS AND RITUALS

The horses of the Rough Riders are freeze-marked on the rump with Imperial Guard insignia: the freezing brand painlessly destroys the pigmentation of the hair and leaves a permanent mark in the shape of a stylised eagle surrounding the head of a horse. Many horses also retain the brands and markings they carried before recruitment to the Guard; among some of the Riders drawn from more barbaric cultures it is even the custom to ritually scar or tattoo the mount along with its rider, leaving raised welts or colourful markings to commemorate the platoon's most heroic actions.

In many regiments, the officers of the Rough Riders are drawn from a long-established ruling elite. Despite their recruitment into the Guard and their official ranks, these nobles are regarded by both themselves and the other troops of the regiment as natural leaders, able to command the service and respect of their homeworld inferiors beyond the call of duty. It is common for these noble Riders to pass their leisure time in the hunt, using infantrymen as beaters to flush out the exotic wildlife of the planets on which they are stationed. Their training and the use of explosive lances hardly makes for a fair competition between hunter and hunted, and it is usually considered poor sportsmanship to arm the lance unless the prey is especially large and ferocious.

Other customs are upheld even on the battlefield, and the Guard may condone unusual tactics by Rough Rider platoons if the skills of their homeworlds are shown to be effective against the Imperium's foes. The most common Rough Rider tactic is to charge the enemy with explsoive lances, switching to lasguns or laspistols once the platoon have made their initial breakthrough. Some Rough Riders, especially those who were accustomed to fighting with cavalry sabres, prefer to arm themselves with chainswords, slashing fiercely to either side as they contact the enemy. Other units tend to standoff, firing at their opponents with lasguns, often galloping past and making themselves hard targets to hit. Whatever their tactics, the mobility and speed of Rough Riders always make them a potent force on the battlefield, able to spearhead an attack as easily as run a flanking manoeuvre, thus keeping enemy commanders on their toes watching for unexpected attacks by the mounted Guardsmen.

WHITESHIELDS

In most regiments, recruitment to the Whiteshields represents the first phase of the youngsters' passage into adulthood, and is accompanied by appropriate rituals from the regiment's home culture. Whiteshields continue to perform menial and support duties, but combat training takes up an increasing proportion of their time, until they are judged to be ready for action. Finally, they get a chance to prove their mettle in combat and to demonstrate that they are worthy of becoming true warriors in the Guard.

Regiments of the Imperial Guard are generally posted to combat zones immense distances from their homeworlds, and it is rarely practical to recruit from the homeworld to make up for combat losses. The Guard therefore uses various other methods of bringing regiments up to strength, depending on the circumstances: amalgamating depleted regiments into a single fighting force is common practice, especially when the regiments are being constantly transported to new battle zones. Regiments that are left to garrison a world they have conquered, on the other hand, recruit from local sources - the most common method (and by far the safest on hostile planets) is to draft the sons of the regiment into the Guard when they come of age.

The children fathered by members of an Imperial Guard regiment are usually brought up completely within the regiment itself. It acts as a kind of extended family, infusing the youngsters with the culture of the homeworld they have never seen, and assigns them menial and support duties which would otherwise eat into the regiment's fighting strength.

RITES OF PASSAGE

When a Whiteshield takes to the battlefield, he is driven by a desire to prove his courage and skills that borders on the fanatical. Whiteshields are fearless in the face of enemies that older, and wiser, Guardsmen treat with caution. For a Whiteshield, failure to win his colours is a terrible blow - showing cowardice is unforgivable, and an honourable death is certainly to be preferred to the dishonour and ridicule heaped upon the weak-hearted.

Whiteshields serve alongside the other squads in their regiment, distinguished only by their bravery and the white badges and helmet stripes on their uniforms. Each Whiteshield squad has an experienced sergeant to guide it through training and in its first battles. The squads are usually put into a normal platoon to learn from the example of the troopers around them - occasionally a company will form up a platoon solely of Whiteshield squads, trusting that their courage will compensate for lack of experience.

"...Because of Probitor Yarren's courage and quick thinking and the dedication of the Whiteshields following his example, the 0rk spearhead was destroyed. It is my judgement that the Whiteshields have proved themselves worthy of full Guard status. I order that the survivors be assigned to One Platoon to replace losses, and the others buried with full regimental honours. Does any man here know of any reason why this order should not be carried out?

Silence.

"Then let it be done. The Colonel's orderly came forward and removed the blank white badges from the chests of the three Whiteshields. Yarren found himself holding his breath as the Regimental colours were affixed to his flak tunic.

"When they are judged to be fit, these three men shall receive the scars they won today And Guardsman Yarren shall be inducted Into the High Eagle Lodge, under my own Patronage.

The ball resounded with cheering as the three were led away to the med-bay. Yarren thought of the rituals of full manhood that awaited him, and of the mysteries of the High Eagle Lodge most respected of the regiment's warrior lodges. He had proved himself today.

But now be was tired. More tired than be bad ever been.

At the end of his training, after he has shown his skill, a Whiteshield is ceremonially awarded his colours: his blank, white badge is replaced with the regimental number and the colours of his platoon; he takes the shoulder motif of his company, and the helmet markings of the squad to which he is assigned. More important than this, however, are the unofficial rituals in which the new Guardsmen is welcomed by his fellows into the regiment. These rituals are taken from the regiment's homeworld culture and vary widely throughout the Guard; tattoos and ritual scars are common and receiving these marks without a cry of pain is as much a test of the youngster's courage as his bravery on the battlefield.

At last the Whiteshield emerges from his training as a full member of the Guard, wearing his scars and tattoos with as much pride as the uniform of his regiment, ready to return to the battlefield with his new experience and, perhaps, a little more caution.

The Schola Progenium teach and train orphans of Imperial Officials until they are ready to become Cadet Commissars. As such, their training continues on the galaxy's battlegrounds where they are formed into special squads. Fighting alongside Imperial Guard units, they are completely devoted servants of the Emperor whose loyalty and bravery know no bounds.

It is the duty of the Commissars in the Imperial Guard to maintain the highest standards of discipline and inspire the troops by their own example. They have the power of absolution in order to restore the morale of the troops at critical moments on the battlefield. Commissars are both feared and respected. They do not often need to exercise their powers because their presence among the troops is enough to instil devotion and confidence.

It is important that Commissars remain aloof from ordinary troops in the Imperial Guard. Commissars need to exercise authority over ordinary officers, often in front of the officer's own unit. The Commissar must be seen as representative of the Emperor and thus a superior authority to any officer. Furthermore, a Commissar is required to deal with troops from many different tribal and racial origins, so cannot be associated with any particular group himself. Consequently, the origins and recruitment of Commissars is of vital importance to their efficient exercise of discipline.

Devotion to the Imperial cause, sound judgement, unshakable resolve and honour are the qualities required in a Commissar. Personnel selected to become Cadet Commissars are drawn from schools run by Missionaries of the Ministorum. There are many such schools throughout the Imperium, known as Schola Progenium. Here, orphans of Imperial Officials who gave their lives in the service of the Emperor are educated by the Missionaries. They soon learn to regard the Emperor as their spiritual father and build a strong personal devotion to the Imperial cause. Their sole ambition is to serve the Imperium and Humanity in some way, and the special qualities of their education make them well suited for service in the Imperial Guard or the Inquisition as Cadet Commissars.

CADET COMMISSARS

For a Cadet Commissar to learn how to function according to his vocation, he must understand the nature of the troops for whose morale and spiritual welfare he is accountable. "You cannot teach in theory what has to be practised in a storm of energy beams, was how Commissar-General Obin Heethe summed up the need for Cadet Commissars to live, fight and if necessary die alongside the troops they were supposed to inspire. For this reason, Cadet Commissars use the same standard weapon as Imperial Guardsmen, the lasgun. This training forms the basis of much of the respect accorded to Commissars by Guardsmen, for they know that only those Cadets who have shown bravery and devotion in the face of enemy fire are selected.

For an experienced Commissar, there is no greater recognition of his service to the Emperor than to be deemed worthy of instructing a new generation of Commissars.

Commissar Training Squad

The Commissar-General assigns one of his Commissars to take the regiment's Cadets and form a tactical unit in its own right, known as the Commissar Training Squad. The unit is made up of one Commissar and nine Cadet Commissars. The Commissar Training Squad accompanies Imperial Guard forces into battle and takes part in some of the fiercest fighting.

The training of a Cadet Commissar has no fixed duration. A Cadet qualifies as a full Commissar on the judgement of the Commissar-General. He will be awarded his Commissar status as soon as he is deemed worthy of it by his actions. This provides great inspiration to the other Cadets on the battlefield. The new Commissar can then be allocated Commissarial duties in his own right. Commissar Training Squads are highly motivated fighting units, respected by all other troops in the Imperial Guard. Any Imperial Guard force accompanied by such squads will consider itself fortunate and probably destined for victory.

When a Commissar decides that a Cadet has failed in his duty, but has not shown cowardice or insubordination, the Cadet is relieved of his position and duties. Commissar Cadets who fail their training can often get a commission in a penal battalion. Others volunteer for service in a Rogue Trader entourage. Sometimes, their destiny will be decided by the Commissar-General or Commissar under whom the ex-Cadet trained.

Commissar Yarrick and Warlord Ghazghkull Mag Uruk Thraka

• Commissar Yarrick, Defender of Hades Hive and Hero of the Imperium
  • Commissar Yarrick in Warhammer 40,000
• 'Eavy Metal: Imperial Commissar Yarrick and Ork Warlord Ghazghkull Mag Uruk Thrakam
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Catachan Jungle Fighters (by Ian Pickstock, excerpted from WD 180)

Trained from birth to kill, the Catachan Jungle Fighters are one of the most famous and feared regiments in the service of the Emperor.

REGIMENTS OF THE IMPERIAL GUARD

The Imperial Guard is the military arm of the Imperium, the largest fighting force in the galaxy and the most powerful army of all time. Across the far-flung battlefields of the forty-first millennia the Imperial Guard struggles against alien invaders, rebellious planetary lords, and the savagery of nature. The Imperial Guard is not really a single army but many armies, each recruited for a specific campaign or war.

Each army is comprised of many regiments. Each regiment comes from a single world and is recruited by the Lord of that world as part of his Imperial obligations. When the Emperor calls the Imperium to war, every planet must provide a regiment to fight for the human cause. From all over the galaxy different regiments join together to fight side-by-side. An army often contains regiments from very different worlds: vast industrial hive worlds, arid sulphur deserts, and steaming jungles. Not all warriors are suited to every battlefield. Troopers from the claustrophobic hives of Necromunda would quickly perish amidst the jungles of Catachan, for example.

Wherever possible, regiments are raised from worlds similar to their intended theatre of operation. However, this is not always possible, and troops from quite different planets often find themselves mixed together on a battle front. During the course of a war, individual squads are often seconded to neighbouring regiments, thrown forwards amongst warriors from another world to bolster a weak spot in the defences or to reinforce an attack. Often regiments are so depleted by casualties that squads of different origin are reformed into a single regiment, forming a polyglot force from many different worlds.

CATACHAN

Man has lived upon Catachan longer than Imperial records can recall. The scout probes of the first colonists found a planet which looked deceptively green and fertile from the safety of orbit. When the giant colony ships crash landed the pioneers inside awoke from cryogenic slumber to find themselves marooned upon one of the most inhospitable places in the galaxy. Catachan is a Death World, perhaps the most notorious and dangerous of all the Death Worlds in the Imperium. Its jungles are home to some of the most predatory animals and plants every encountered by man. The first settlers survived by the merest chance, holed-up inside the wreckage of their spacecraft, besieged by the living jungle around them. Undoubtedly many died. Only the hardiest, quickest and luckiest ever survive on a Death World.

The planet's few scattered settlements are fortresses surrounded by barren bedrock where the soil has been blasted bare to provide clear lines of fire. Even so, buildings never last long on Catachan. Lichens soon take root upon any surface, secreting a potent acid which crumbles even the most solidly constructed defences. Strangle Vines creep a hundred metres in a single night, and their constricting grip can crush a plasteel bunker or smash a tank like an eggshell. The people of Catachan must constantly build and rebuild. Wherever they construct their settlements the jungles grow more densely and become increasingly aggressive. The wild creatures of Catachan gather to repel the invaders. It is as if the whole planet were determined to rid itself of human intrusion, just as the immune system of a man might react to some invasive virus. Sooner or later humans must abandon their homes and resettle on another site, beginning their struggle against the jungle afresh.

The people of this unique world are moulded by a life of constant battle. Children learn to shoot before they can walk. Only those who can shoot fast and straight ever reach adulthood. Outside the fragile domes a world wars against its human inhabitants, vicious creatures like the Catachan Devil lie waiting for the unwary. Every plant and every animal on Catachan is inimical to human life. Every creature is a carnivore. Every plant is poisonous. Some plants secrete a deadly pollen which saturates the air and invades filter systems. Other types of vegetation release sticky sap which holds a creature fast and slowly dissolves its flesh. A few large trees even emit poisons into the ground water, killing surrounding plants and creating a slimy acid bog which entraps anything foolish enough to venture near.

The native creatures are even more dangerous than the plants. The multi-legged Catachan Devil with its segmented body and snapping jaws is as big as a tank and capable of battling even the notorious Shambling Mamorphs of the volcano lands. Few humans grow old on Catachan, and those that survive the longest retain an instinct for self-preservation unrivalled anywhere in the galaxy.

THE CATACHAN REGIMENT

Like all the worlds in the Imperium, Catachan is required to provide troops for the Imperial Guard. The people of Catachan live amongst dense and dangerous jungles which are altogether alien to most of the hive-dwelling citizens of the Imperium's larger planets. When it comes to jungle fighting the Catachan Regiment has no equal and the Imperial Guard recognises their supremacy in this type of warfare.

During the jungle wars on Epsion Octarius, the Catachan Regiment survived for nearly forty days amidst Crotalid infested mangrove swamps before reaching the Ork Gargant construction site of Grubnak's Drops. On that occasion the savagery of the jungle fighters so impressed the Deathskull Ork Warlord that he ordered his Gargants to be painted in green jungle stripes with red bandanas, in imitation of the Catachan Jungle Fighter's uniform. Whether he did this out of respect for his enemies or in the hope that some of the Jungle Fighter's skills would rub off on his Gargant fighting machines is uncertain.

Jungle Fighters wear the green combat gear that is everyday costume for the people of Catachan. Their clothing is completely suited to fast moving warfare amidst steaming jungles. Combined with the red bandana, this rough but practical costume passes as the regiment's uniform.

• 'Eavy Metal: The Jungle Fighters of Catachan
• The Weapons Team Rule
• Catachan Jungle Fighters: Squads
• 'Eavy Metal: Space Marine Land Speeder
• 'Eavy Metal: Space Marine Chaplans

Rough Riders of Attila (by Rick Priestley, excerpted from WD 181)

Like the cavalry of old, the Rough Riders strike fear into the hearts of their foe as they charge across the battlefield, deadly hunting lances at the ready. Even those who survive this explosive charge cannot escape the cleansing sweep of the Rough Riders' chainswords.

ATTILA

The world of Attila is somewhat smaller than Earth and has a single continent which covers almost half its surface. The centre of this massive land mass is prone to such extremes of temperature that it remains uninhabited, a baking desert in the summer which becomes a sub-zero sea of sand and snow over winter. Between the Death Lands of the continental centre and the coasts is a belt of rich savannah thousands of miles deep and punctuated with mountain chains, mighty inland lakes, and vast rivers. Only towards the coastal edges does the grassland give way to verdant forests, encircling the entire continent with a thin arboreal band.

Humans colonised Attila many thousands of years ago and must have adopted the nomadic life almost immediately. The original landing site of Khanasan has grown into the only city on the whole planet. The bustling metropolis is a gathering place for the tribes of Attila and the centre of its government. As for the bulk of the population, they are nomads who subsist from their herds of Ovigors. These are gigantic shaggy and savage animals native to the world of Attila. Their rich flesh and dark blood form the basic subsistence diet of the tribes. When the summer comes, the Attilans drive their herds towards the heart of the continent, following the spring thaw and new grown pasture. In winter, they retreat towards the outer grasslands abutting the coasts, and here their animals find enough grazing to keep them alive until the year's turn.

ATTILAN ROUGH RIDERS

The Imperium recruits some of the most ferocious mounted warriors from this barbaric world. Attilan regiments of Imperial Guard Rough Riders have fought all over the galaxy in many different theatres of war. On worlds thousand of light years from Attila the image of the scarred tribesman resplendent in his crude furs and bedecked with beads and rings is as familiar as it is frightening.

The Attilans' warrior prowess is founded upon a tradition of fighting amongst themselves, for the tribes of Attila respect only power and a King must be prepared to demonstrate his might to doubting rivals. When a lord of the Attilans defeats an enemy he cuts off the beaten man's head and his artificers turn the skull into a drinking cup as a permanent symbol of his victory. A tribal chieftain may have many such skulls, bound with ornately carved gold or inlaid with silver, embellished with rubies and sapphires of immense worth. The King of Khanasan and Lord of Attila is the most mighty of all, acknowledged as the King of a Thousand Skulls!

The Attilans are said to be born in the saddle, for they are amongst the greatest horsemen in the galaxy. The horses they prefer are thick-set beasts, ill-tempered and likely to bite or kick anyone unwise enough to give them the chance to do so. The riders depend upon their horses a great deal, and value them more highly than gold. In adversity a warrior will draw off some of the animals blood and drink it to sustain himself. In this way Attilans can live without food or water for many days, enabling them to operate deep behind enemy lines without supplies.

Characteristic features of an Attilan warrior are the scars that he bears upon his cheeks, long knife cuts of white tissue which stand out against his weather beaten skin. These marks are cut into his cheeks as a young man, and ashes from the camp fire are rubbed into the wounds so that they leave deep and prominent scars.

Attilans tend to wear their hair in long, unkempt braids, or long and matted. They do not wash themselves or clean their clothes, believing that to do so would affront the spirits of water with which they superstitiously people their land. This tradition has proven hard to break, despite considerable effort on the part of the Adeptus Ministorum preachers in the barely tolerated mission in Khanasan. Indeed, it is sometimes said that the stench of the Attilan is as powerful a weapon as his hunting lance!

• Rough Riders: Units

Cadian Shock Troops (by Rick Priestley, excerpted from WD 182)

Steeped in the blood of countless skirmishes with the forces of Chaos, the Cadian Shock Troops are the finest warriors from an embattled planet. With grim determination they stand ready to face any threat to the Imperium.

THE IMPERIUM

The Imperium of Mankind extends over almost the entire galaxy, yet the actual number of planetary systems ruled by man is incredibly few compared to the vast size of the galaxy as a whole. Although humanity is the most powerful of all the known races it is still fragile. Mankind's hold on its Empire is precarious and even its survival as a species must remain in doubt. Human worlds are scattered broadly throughout space, their original settlement following the fickle tides of warp space. These currents can carry a spacecraft thousand of light years but they are rarely predictable or stable.

As a result, the worlds of the Imperium are both diverse and independent. Some worlds are covered with steaming jungle, others are sheathed with ice, some are deserts and others nothing but endless ocean. Whatever their physical geography, each world is a realm within the Imperium, its loyalties and duties are to the Emperor, but its responsibilities are to itself. Each planet must protect itself, raise warriors for its defence, and maintain fortresses and orbital stations to fend off attack from space. Furthermore each world must be prepared to send its own troops to join the ranks of the Imperial Guard, to fight hundreds of thousands of light years from home as part of the armies of the Imperium itself.

CADIA

Cadia is just one world amongst many thousands in the Imperium, but it has a special and honoured place in the history of mankind. Cadia stands upon the edge of the Eye of Terror within a narrow corridor of stable space called the Cadian Gate. This forms the one and only predictable passage between the Chaos infested Daemon Worlds of the Eye of Terror and Earth. There are other routes but these are less stable, inherently unpredictable paths that will scatter fleets through time and space. No battlefleet of any size can rely upon these unstable passages, but must pass through the Cadian Gate. Cadia is therefore one of the most strategically important planets of the galaxy, and its defence is vital to the survival of the Imperium.

CHAOS RAIDERS

On several occasions the forces of Chaos have moved against Cadia and raging battles have been fought in the deeps of space, beyond the Ninth Planet of Cadia, amongst the rings of Rouran and even on Cadia itself. A large part of the Imperial fleet is stationed at Cadia or nearby. Such huge battles are rare, but the constant intrusion of Chaos raiding craft is commonplace. Chaos Space Marines make frequent forays onto the surface of Cadia, and must be hunted down and destroyed before they can entrench themselves.

As recently as five years ago, a large force of Chaos Space Marines penetrated the defences of Cadia undetected, and went into hiding in the uplands of the Dorac Alps. Unknown to the Cadians, these troops dug themselves in and established a formidable fortress. Soon they were joined by reinforcements and their forces increased until a large army was ready to attack. Fortunately, the Chaos Space Marines were detected when a ship carrying more raiders was intercepted in orbit. The Cadians' own defence troops were able to contain the invaders and eventually defeat them. Such incidents are not rare by any means, and the Cadians have developed a powerful army which is expert at rooting out and destroying the intruders.

THE CADIAN SHOCK TROOPS

The most powerful fighting formations of the Cadian forces are called Shock Troops. They are chosen from the fastest moving and hardest-fighting of the Cadians. As all Cadians must train in the defence forces, all the best fighters are quickly identified and inducted for further training. When Chaos raiders are discovered the Shock Troops are sent to hunt them down, and only if the force is particularly large or well equipped will the Cadians send for help. Even the Space Marines that have come to destroy especially large Chaos forces have found the Cadians impressive and powerful allies.

The Cadians manufacture excellent weaponry and other military equipment. The world itself is heavily industrialised and has many large cities with highly skilled populations. This is reflected in the Cadians' armament and wargear, which is made in uniform patterns and camouflaged in a manner most suited to the mixed terrain of the Cadian wilderness.

• 'Eavy Metal: Cadian Shock Troops
• The Weapons Team Rule
• Splitting Squads
• Cadian Shock Troops

Commissar Yarrick (by Jervis Johnson, excerpted from WD 182)

Unmistakable on the battlefield with his huge battle claw, Commissar Yarrick strikes terror into the hearts of his Ork enemies. Through his boundless faith in the Emperor he has survived wounds that would kill another man and many think he is invincible.
One of the most dangerous periods of the Imperium's history was during the Waaagh led by Ork Warboss Ghazghkull Thraka. In 40,941 Ghazghkull launched a massive campaign of destruction, which began with the bloody invasion of Armageddon. Ghazghkull's massive armies smashed aside all opposition on this Imperial Hive World until an assault force, led by Warboss Ugulhard, ran into Commissar Yarrick and the defenders of Hades Hive.

Commissar Yarrick was an old man when Ghazghkull Thraka attacked Armageddon and the siege of Hades Hive began. He had a long career of distinguished service in the Planetary Defence Force behind him and was scheduled for retirement at the Feast of the Ascension. Yarrick had a reputation for being utterly loyal to the Imperium and an inspiring leader of men. In his youth he had learned the language of the Orks from a captured Ork raider and he was an expert on the way the Ork mind worked. A better leader than Herman Von Strab - Imperial Overlord of Armageddon - would have paid more attention to what he said, but instead Von Strab grew angry with the old man for daring to contradict his views of what the Orks planned to do and banished him to Hades Hive. As it turned out this was one of the few wise decisions that Von Strab made during the campaign...

The Ork attack on Armageddon Secundus shattered the Imperial front line and destroyed most of the Imperial army. Everywhere Imperial forces were in retreat, and hive after hive fell. But then the Orks reached Hades Hive, and here Commissar Yarrick supervised the defences. The siege of Hades Hive began with a mammoth Ork assault led by Warlord Ugulhard of the Snakebites clan. Outnumbered three to one, the Imperial defenders were beaten back, and everywhere ferocious and bloody hand-to-hand fights took place between the Orks and Humans.

At this vit4l moment Ugulhard and Yarrick met. With a mighty roar the Ork Warboss threw himself at Yarrick, his battle claw snickered and snapped, and Yarrick' s right arm was torn off at the elbow. But Ugulhard's bellow of triumph quickly turned to a scream of horror. Ignoring pain so intense that any normal man would have passed out instantly, Yarrick swung his chainsword and with one slice lopped off Ugulhard's head. The Ork's body stood upright for a moment, fountaining green blood, and then crashed to the ground. Yarrick calmly bent down, pulled the power claw from the Ork's body, and held it aloft in triumph. For a moment a hush fell over the battlefield. Then with a huge cheer the Imperial troops charged at the stunned Orks and hurled them back. Only once he was sure that Hades was safe did Yarrick allow himself to pass out.

The events of that day gave Yarrick a terrifying reputation among the Orks, and he was to become one of the very few Humans that ever inspired fear (or something like fear) in that warlike and brutal race. It was a commonly held Ork belief that Yarrick could not be killed, and that he had the 'evil eye' which could kill an Ork with a glance. Yarrick understood Ork psychology well, and played on these primitive fears. He kept Ugulhard' s battle claw and had it specially modified so that he could use it. Whenever he entered battle he wore the battle claw, and it quickly became a symbol that inspired fear in the Ork attackers and steadfastness in the Imperial defenders. He even had his own left eye plucked out and replaced with a special bionic implant that could fire a powerful pulse of laser energy. If the Orks thought he had the evil eye then, by the Emperor, an evil eye he would have!

For six months the defenders of Hades Hive held out. Who knows what feats of heroism and horror took place in that place, at that time? Those who survived do not talk much about it, save to praise the bravery of Yarrick. In those dark days he seemed to be everywhere, raising the spirits of a people with his own unquenchable belief in ultimate victory. Amazingly he welded together a army capable of standing off the invaders. The time that they bought with their blood allowed fresh Imperial forces, including three Chapters of Space Marines, to arrive and turn the tide against the Orks. Even as the final assault on Hades began, a relief force headed by the Salamanders, Blood Angels and Ultramarines raced in an effort to relieve the hive. But tragically, as the Space Marines broke through the Ork lines, Hades fell. Commissar Yarrick was one of the few survivors. His shattered body was found in the ruins, dozens of Ork bodies heaped at his feet.

It took Yarrick many months to recover from his wounds, and by the time he had done so the Battle For Armageddon was over. At last he was able to retire, and for a brief period he was able to find some peace tending the small garden that was the only luxury he allowed himself. Even so, he was deeply troubled by the memories of what had happened at Hades Hive, and nearly every night he woke screaming from nightmares spawned by those terrible times. But then the news of Ghazghkull's survival reached him. It is said that the look of fury and hatred that crossed his face was so terrible that the messenger cowered and grovelled before him, fearing for his own life. But Yarrick's hatred was reserved for one being, and one only: Ghazghkull. Spinning on his heel he ordered his valet to bring his famous black uniform and battle claw. Yarrick was coming out of retirement, and he would not rest until he had avenged the brave defenders of Hades Hive by spilling the life blood of Ghazghkull Thraka...

Ice Warriors of Valhalla (by Rick Priestley, excerpted from WD 183)

Raised on a frozen and desolate homeworld, the Ice Warriors of Valhalla have a long and glorious history of victories against the Orks and other enemies of the Imperium. Famed as one of the toughest regiments of the Imperial Guard, these grim and tenacious warriors never retreat and never surrender.

VALHALLA

The planet of Valhalla was once a temperate paradise of forests and broad fertile plains. There is no record of its settlement, but legends recall a world ripe for colonisation and development. Its people spread across the world and prospered. The planet's main land masses were distributed more or less evenly, one centred at the northern pole and the other at the south. The equatorial regions themselves were dominated by a huge warm ocean eleven thousand miles wide.

Approximately ten thousand years ago Valhalla was struck by a comet of immense size and weight. The planet's defence lasers poured shot after shot into the comet. This did nothing more than break off several smaller fragments of what proved to be virtually solid iron. A mile wide fragment struck the northern continent causing massive earthquakes and destruction, but the main comet body landed in the sea.

At first the confusion and devastation made it hard to gauge the full effect of the strike. The boiling seas, clouds of vapour and pall of dust cut off the light. Temperatures plunged to freezing over the whole planet. Even more significantly, the impact had knocked the whole world from its orbit. For ten years Valhalla spun eccentrically until it finally settled some fifteen million miles further from its sun. By then the planet was a very different place indeed.

ICE WORLD

Valhalla had become a frozen world of ice. The survivors of the disaster found themselves pushed further and further towards the equatorial oceans as glaciers engulfed the polar continents. Eventually, there was no more land left, and they were forced to live upon the ice itself. Though 99% of all life had been destroyed the people struggled through, building their cities deep inside the ice, beneath the glaciers and upon the frozen ocean. What little life remained they carefully cultivated, growing nutrient slimes and algae in vats heated by thermal stills.

Fate had dealt the world a cruel blow but had not finished with Valhalla. Just as the threat of starvation seemed to be receding, another and equally dangerous foe appeared. Orks came in their thousands, their damaged spacefleet blown upon the winds of the warp to the ice world. Finding little to sustain even their undemanding appetites, the Orks launched themselves upon the Valhallan's with a ferocity sharpened by hunger. It was a fight for survival, the Orks were marooned and the only food on the whole planet lay inside the cities of the Valhallans - the precious organic cultures and the inhabitants themselves!

A DESPERATE STRUGGLE

The fighting raged throughout the sub-glacial cities of the Valhallans. The thermal stills which rose above the ice were easy targets for the Orks, but the green-skinned creatures plunged downwards instead, into the heart of the ice cities. The fighting raged through the galleries and tunnels of Valhalla. The defenders knew every inch of their frozen domain, every gallery and shaft, and they made good use of their familiarity in each encounter. As the Orks fought inward they found themselves constantly ambushed, or led unwittingly into dead ends where tunnels would be collapsed behind them.

By the sixth week of fighting the Orks reached the main food chamber with its hundreds of nutrient slime vats. Almost half the Orks had been killed, but the remainder were every bit as determined as ever. The scent of the bubbling green slime assailed their keen nostrils and they licked their scaly lips in anticipation. The Valhallans prepared to put up a final resistance. If the chamber was captured they'd starve within a week. Every man, woman and child that could carry a gun crowded into the chamber and its surrounding galleries. The battle would decide which race would survive on Valhalla.

THE FINAL BATTLE

The Orks attacked in a great mass. The green-skinned warriors were maddened with hunger and no longer seemed capable of rational thought. If the attack had been better planned it might have succeeded, but as it was the Orks were repelled though at great cost. Almost half the defenders were slain or hurt. The Orks retreated and prepared for another rush.

The second attack came in two simultaneous thrusts. The first was repelled easily but this proved to be nothing more than a feint. The second was directed against a small side-chamber, part of the nutrient packaging plant that adjoined the main production vats. The pack' aging plant eventually fell to the Orks, its defenders dead at their posts after exacting a heavy toll amongst the enemy.

From their newly won position the Orks rapidly moved reinforcements forwards. The humans found themselves in a crossfire, and were soon forced to give ground in the main chamber itself. The Orks were amongst the huge vats. These were pits hewn into the ground and filled with the sticky green algal slime. The raised sides of the pits provided cover for attacker and defender alike. The fighting intensified as the Orks struggled forward, pit by pit, and the humans gradually retreated or fell at their places.

VICTORY!

After three hours the Orks had lost half their number but had forced the Valhallans back against the ice wall. The defenders' prospects looked pretty grim as they prepared for a fresh assault, determined to sell their lives as dearly as possible. As the Orks rose as one and howled their battle cry, a mighty explosion tore through the cavern. Ice pillars toppled and fell into the nutrient pools, and the floor heaved and broke under the Orks' feet. The Valhahlans rose in their turn and with an almighty scream fell upon their attackers. The Orks broke in confusion as fiery machines smashed through the floor, and the cavern swam in a mixture of slime and green ichor.

The Valhallans had won the day because their stiff resistance gave their engineers time to bore an ice shaft under the cavern floor. At the vital moment the old ice burners, industrial machines used to form the sub-glacial chambers themselves, had been allowed to burst through and run amok amongst the Orks. The intensely hot burners, carried by their own high pressure steam, had terrified the Orks. Those who did not run were badly burned or melted, and those who escaped were cut down by the vengeful Valhallans.

Though the planet of Valhalla is no longer a populous or affluent world, the Valhallans are famous throughout the galaxy. After destroying the Orks on their own world, regiments of Valhallans joined with other Imperial Guard to rid many worlds of the Ork invaders. Always the Valhallans fought with the same grim determination which they displayed in the ice cities of their homeworld. In battle their courage and tenacity earned them the respect of other regiments from all over the Imperium.

• 'Eavy Metal: Ice Warriors of Valhalla
• 'Eavy Metal: Imperial Guard
• Imperial Guard Mortar
• Firing the Mortar
• Scatter and Hits: Rolling to Hit
• Ice Warriors of Valhalla: Squads

Imperial Guard Veterans

• Veterans
• Veterans in Battle
• Veteran Abilities

Mordian Iron Guard (by Rick Priestley, excerpted from WD 184)

The Iron Guard are the champions of the Tetrarchy of Mordian, standing between the planet's continued survival and anarchy and destruction. Resplendant in their distinctive bright uniforms, they are instantly recognisable and form a loyal bastion against the encroachment of Chaos.

TREACHERY!

In the long and sinister annals of the Inquisition there are many tales of treachery and horror, of the destruction of worlds and the triumph of man's greed and foolishness. It is a record of human weakness and the power of the Dark Gods of Chaos.

Yet amongst that record of lost planets and mortal defeat there are a few stories of human victory rare cases where the daemonic army of Chaos has been turned aside at the moment of success and driven back into the void from which it came. One such place is Mordian - the World of Eternal Night.

MORDIAN

The Mordian day is the same length as the Mordian year, the small planet turning upon its axis once each time it completes a circle of its sun. As a consequence, one side of Mordian is constantly burned by the fierce heat of the sun, whilst the other side lies in eternal darkness. The scorched side is lifeless and barren, a desert of splintered rock and canyons where mighty armies clashed during the Age of Apostasy thousands of years ago. On Mordian, all life is on the dark side.

The slow revolution of Mordian does little to stir its thick atmosphere, so the weather is constantly hot and still with no natural breezes to move the oppressive air. In the sultry darkness the Mordians go about their daily lives. Ancient and ruinous cities sprawl across the planet's dark surface. Pyramidal, multi-levelled towers reach for the sky and rise like mountains towards space. Hundreds of millions of people exist upon a land surface barely one tenth the size of Earth.

Mordian is a world that seethes with people, a crowded and dark world whose rulers, the Tetrarchs of Mordian, must fight a constant battle against anarchy. Only the most careful husbanding of Mordian's resources keeps its massive population alive. All food, all clothing, all essential resources and supplies are strictly controlled and rationed. This enables the Mordians to survive albeit with the utmost effort and in considerable impoverishment.

Such harsh and demanding conditions naturally breed discontent. Few people really understand the predicament they or their planet is in. Others care nothing for their fellow men and seek only to accrue personal wealth and power regardless of consequences. In the decaying, multi-levelled cities crime is rife. Gangsters and criminal warlords rule an underworld where life is cheap and where the desperate are merely pawns to be expended as their masters please.

THE IRON GUARD

The Mordian Iron Guard stands between order and anarchy. They are the champions of the Tetrarchy of Mordian, uniformed in bright colours and fiercely loyal to their cause. Their enemies are all those who would divert the scant resources of Mordian or threaten its continued existence. They fight a constant battle against the criminal warlords of the undercity, insane gangs of cannibals, and misguided rabblerousers who would sooner see universal destruction than endure the sacrifice necessary for the survival of the world.

The Iron Guard are ruthless in pursuit of their enemies. Their discipline is legendary and their training is as rigorous as possible. All who fight in the Iron Guard understand full well the horror that would engulf their world if they were to fail in their duty. Their loyalty and determination is all that keeps Mordian from plague, starvation and savagery.

THE CONSPIRACY OF CHAOS

The greatest threat to Mordian came one hot summer. The stifling heat was unusual even for Mordian. The planet seethed with unrest. Beneath the streets brooded a secret conspiracy that posed a threat far greater than any seen before. In the depths met a dark conclave, a group of men who knew the extent of Mordian's wealth and wanted it for themselves. Away from the sight of saner citizens they made their incantations and called upon the Dark Gods of Chaos.

A spell was begun. It is impossible to say how much innocent blood was spilled to fuel their sorcery, or what sinister pledges were made to their dark masters. Those that cast the spell sought only personal power. Their lust knew no bounds. They would destroy the planet itself if they had to. They cared no more for its teeming millions than did the Chaos Gods.

The summer grew hotter as the spell neared its completion. Many strange things were reported in the capital. The cannibal mobs and criminal gangs were restless. Men saw winged monsters hovering in the city lights. People disappeared without trace.

A SKY OF FLAMES

At last the spell was complete and suddenly the world shook as its sky erupted into flame, and from the flame came the Warlords of Chaos itself. From the Eye of Terror distorted and ugly spacecraft soared into the Mordian skies to rain fire and destruction upon the world. Chaos Space Marines poured into the city slaying all around in a great and bloody sacrifice to their gods. Daemons stalked the burning towers and hunted the souls of those that fled from the devastation below.

From their dark hiding places the servants of Chaos crawled to bathe in the fire and terror of their world, confident of their master's favour now that their work was done.

CHAOS WAR

As the sky exploded into flame the Tetrarchs of Mordian ordered their Astropaths to send psychic calls for help. The power of Chaos was so strong that the Astropaths' minds melted with the effort. It was impossible for anyone to say whether the messages got through or if help was on its way.

Meanwhile, the Iron Guard fought a gallant resistance against the daemonic assault. Whilst lesser men fled in terror before the might of Chaos the Iron Guard stood their ground, pouring volley after volley into the enemy ranks. At last the Iron Guard Captains were forced to give the order to withdraw. Though their men would stand until the end they could achieve little against the hordes that opposed them. Reluctantly the Iron Guard regrouped around the capital, abandoning the rest of the planet to the enemy.

Whilst the forces of Chaos rampaged throughout Mordian the Iron Guard prepared the capital's defences. Every building became a fortress, every tower a strongpoint, and every street and plaza a killing-zone for the Iron Guard's carefully sighted weapons. At the centre lay the Tetrarchal Palace itself, from which the defence of the capital was co-ordinated.

When the attack began the Iron Guard was well prepared. Chaos Space Marines fell before their well disciplined fire as shot after shot struck their ranks. Channelled into well prepared fire traps the Chaos Marines were easily repelled, but far greater and more potent foes followed upon their heels.

ATTACK FROM THE DEPTHS

From the sewers and service ducts poured an army of those who had sold their souls to the Dark Gods. Clad in rags and armed with no more than iron bars and lengths of chain they threw themselves upon the defenders. Driven by their insane devotion to Chaos they cared little if they lived or died, and thousands were cut down by the devastating weapons of the Iron Guard. Nonetheless, this attack from an unexpected source left the defenders unprepared for the next assault.

The forces of Chaos moved upon the Iron Guard with purpose. Daemons and Chaos Marines advanced as one. Bloodthirsters of Khorne roared a great challenge to chill mortal blood. Keepers of Secrets stalked the battlefield, slaying those that dared to look upon them with a withering glare. Whirling Horrors skipped and chattered in an eerie blur of incandescant power. It was a terrifying sight, yet the Iron Guard held firm before the onslaught though many paid the ultimate price for their devotion.

Street by street, building by building, the Iron Guard fell back into the heart of the city. Their lines drew tighter but refused to break, as attack after attack was repulsed. When losses grew too heavy to endure, or as positions were outflanked and became untenable, the Iron Guard withdrew to another line, always preserving what they could of their men and weapons. It was a battle fought with all the tactical brilliance and discipline the best Imperial troops could hope for. Yet it was a battle the Mordians could not win. Eventually they would have nowhere left to retreat to.

THE BATTLE FOR THE PALACE

At last the Iron Guard took position around the Tetrarchal Palace itself, the last strongpoint on the whole world. Behind hastily constructed defences the infantry waited for the inevitable attack. From the towers and ceremonial balconies the barrels of lascannons and other heavy weapons glinted in the light of the burning sky.

Suddenly the horde of Chaos was upon them, screaming and bellowing in its might. Greater Daemons of Nurgle strode clumsily amongst their minions, rising above them four or five times the height of a man, giants and lords of their foul kind.

The bloated daemons shuffled forward, putrid innards spilling over the ground, nauseous gasses bubbling from rents and tears in their leathery flesh. Beside them were the Chaos Space Marines of that pestilential God, their armour green and rancid with decay, their rank bodies stiff with disease. Before them came a black cloud of flies which buzzed about the Iron Guard, crawling into eyes and ears, and filling their mouths with black hairy bodies.

The Iron Guard's lasguns spat a volley of death into the screaming horde. Again the lasguns cracked with a single voice, as the Captains ordered shot after shot into the vile mass. From the Tetrarchal Palace came the chatter of autocannons, the angry scream of boltguns, and the piercing shriek of lascannons. With mechanical precision the weapon crews loaded and fired, loaded and fired, never stopping for one moment or breaking their routine. Deamon gore ran like a foul river in the once white square, but as one beast fell another twice as hideous marched over its body towards the Iron Guard's position.

The Captains ordered their men back to the Palace steps and formed a firing line. Their discipline intact, the Iron Guard prepared for a single volley before the forces of Chaos fell upon them. Their final moment had come, though there were few left now to witness their inevitable defeat.

THE TIDE IS TURNED

Little could the defenders of Mordian know of the power or purposes of Chaos. How could they imagine, as the hordes of Chaos advanced upon them, that the Chaos gods' hold upon Mordian was but a tenuous one. The spell that brought them to mortal space and imbued the flesh of their servants with physical energy was almost spent. The fires that burned in the sky were growing dim and the bellows of daemons echoed shallowly in the air.

As the Iron Guard watched, their enemies dissolved before their eyes. The sky darkened to its customary blackness. In the dark the guiding lights of Imperial spacecraft glittered amongst the stars. The Iron Guard had won not just a battle, but the most precious thing of all - time. From beyond the orbit of Mordian Imperial psykers had wrought a counter spell to break the hold of Chaos. Whilst the Iron Guard fought upon the planet, a separate battle of wills had raged between mortals and gods. Only the Iron Guard's heroic resistance had given the psykers enough time to work their mystical abilities before the planet was won for Chaos for all time.

• Imperial Guard Lascannon
• Mordian Iron Guard: Squads

Tallaran Desert Raiders (by Rick Priestley, excerpted from WD 185)

Tallarn is a harsh planet, with endless sulphurous deserts and constant raging sandstorms. It was the site of the largest tank battle fought during the Horus Heresy, the grave of thousands of Chaos heretics, and the home of some of the hardiest warriors in the Imperial Guard - the Tallarn Desert Raiders.

TALLARN

The world of Tallarn was once a fertile planet bathed in the gentle orange light of its twin suns. Oceans, plains and lush jungles covered its surface, and its people prospered. All of this ended during the Horns Heresy.

CHAOS ATTACK!

In a devastating surprise attack, the Iron Warriors Chaos Space Marines struck the planet. Thousands of virus bombs rained down on Tallarn and all who could ran to the enviro-shelters deep beneath the surface. As they hid, safe from the devastating bio-infestation, the deadly coils of DNA mutated as they were programmed to do. Animals, plants, even insects died as the virus did its work, destroying the planet's ecosystem and leaving an empty shell.

After seven weeks of isolation the virus had run its course and the remaining people of Tallarn emerged upon the surface. They found a world covered with the acrid slime of plants and corpses not yet decayed - for the world was still sterile without even bacteria to aid the decomposition of its dead. The Iron Warriors sent their task force to repossess the world for the Dark Gods of Chaos. From underground bunkers the Tallarn forces emerged to do battle with the invaders. Soon, reinforcements from both sides arrived, rival space fleets bringing vast armies to fight over the worthless remnants of the dead planet.

The Battle of Tallarn raged for many months and was the largest armoured conflict of the Horns Heresy. Outbreaks of viral infection from rogue DNA residue made it almost impossible for infantry to operate outside of their protective shelters. The battle was finally decided by armies of tanks. When the fighting ended the empty, putrid wastes of Tallarn were littered with the wreckage of more than a million shattered vehicles.

A HOLLOW VICTORY

Chaos was driven from Tallarn at great cost, yet for all the millions that died there seemed little gained from the fight. The planet was destroyed and rendered useless for large scale habitation, industry or agriculture. The armies of the Imperium might well have given up Tallarn had their commanders realised the extent of the devastation, but once the armies were in motion there was no going back.

At the time the Chaos attack made little sense. It seemed insane that even the fickle Gods of Chaos should expend such energy fighting over a devastated world of no particular strategic significance. But in the aftermath of the Horns Heresy their were few left to ponder such questions. Amongst the evils of the time it was just another demonstration of the random destruction of Chaos.

TALLARN SURVIVES

Within a thousand years of the Horns Heresy Tallarn evolved into a very different world from the prosperous planet of former times. Deserts of sulphurous sand stretched from pole to pole and all water disappeared except for a thin residue in the atmosphere. No vegetation remained on the surface exposed to the blistering, wind-blown sands. All that grew was the carefully husbanded crops of the Tallarn themselves, sheltered in their protective horticultural domes.

The surviving Tallarn now lived in domed towns or in natural caverns hollowed out in the planet's rock. Fierce winds drove the Tallam into their shelters, corrosive sulphur storms made all travel risky, and eventually a system of tunnels was built to facilitate travel beneath the surface.

Above their settlements the Tallarn built vapour traps to catch water from the thin atmosphere. These tall towers still stand above their domes to this day, and all the water they use is caught by these cunning devices and channelled into subterranean holding tanks.

A SECRET UNCOVERED

During the construction of an arterial tunnel, Tallarn miners struck an outcrop of hard black rock. They were unable to penetrate through this strange substance which was quite unlike any other they had encountered. After some days they decided to divert their tunnel to go around it. As they did so they discovered something very strange. At first it seemed like a natural formation, but soon they realised they had uncovered a deliberate construction.

The initial excavations revealed a huge wall of the strange black rock carved over its entire surface with weird entwined figures. The figures were human sized yet not entirely human, possessing a grace and beauty which rendered their grotesquely inscribed cavorting all the more perverse. Giant earth movers were brought in to dig out the layer of sulphur sand in which the wall was buried, and bit by bit it was slowly and painstakingly exposed to the daylight.

The Tallarn soon discovered the wall was not straight but curved, in fact part of a huge circle. Carefully their most skilled technicians worked to uncover the entire thing, a huge ring-shaped mound almost half a mile across.

THE DANGER AWAKES

It was not until the whole circle was exposed that the disaster happened. With a blast of power the circle screamed and writhed, its inert form turned suddenly to moaning flesh. Where before there had been carvings now there were the creatures themselves, Eldar creatures, yet twisted with an uncanny evil, locked together by some sorcerous bond into a sickening embrace of depraved passion.

Within the circle itself, blackness boiled and stars wheeled - stars that belonged in another part of the galaxy altogether.

THE DARK LIBRARY

In the Dark Library of the Eldar a custodian shivered as he felt an unaccustomed surge of power. Adrift from time and space his mind searched the endless strands of probabilities and found the thread that led to Tallarn. After so long it had been discovered: the Cursus of Alganar, legend of evil from before the Fall, vortex of unimaginable power, one of the three mythical Gateways of the Gods.

His mind shifted into synchronicity with the Farseers of his race, tracing the paths that linked his mind to the Craftworlds of the Eldar. When that knowledge touched the Farseers the Avatars of Khaine would wake. And Khaine would recognise the work of his ancient destroyer Slaanesh - Bane of the Eldar, Prince of the Chaos Gods.

ELDAR ATTACK

The Eldar struck from the skies without warning or explanation. To the Tallarn it was an unwarranted act of aggression. Little could they imagine that the fate of the entire Eldar race was bound up with their strange discovery. To the Eldar there was no time for explanation or discussion. They couldn't know whether the Tallam were in league with Chaos or whether the fierce desert people were unwitting pawns in the Dark Gods' game. As far as they were concerned the only option was to attack, to destroy the Cursus if they could before it was too late.

The Tallarn fought back with characteristic ferocity. Years of living upon the burning sulphur deserts had honed them into resilient fighters. To the Eldar the deserts were an unknown quantity. Even the hardy Aspect Warriors died under the heat of the sun, whilst the Eldar Guardians fell to the lightning raids of the human fighters. But the Eldar did not give up. They could not afford to abandon their attack. The survival of the galaxy depended on it.

THE DARK GODS AWAKE

But it was already too late. The gateway that was the Cursus grew in power by the minute. Its screams and wails filled the desert as the dark light brightened and fluxed within its core. Lights and stars swirled and clashed, fountains of spinning incandescence spat into the night sky. The laughter of gods rebounded across the sulphur dunes and Eldar and humans alike shuddered in terror.

From the Cursus poured the minions of Chaos. There were things indescribable to men. Things that awakened primal terrors in Eldar hearts - horrors of slime and flame that cackled and bounded into battle, transparent bodies of pure energy dividing and reuniting in a cascade of colours, vile fleshy things that pulsed with inner power and sucked at the air with poisonous lips, long-legged abominations that bore slender and elegant creatures upon their backs, beautiful and yet sickening to look upon. It was as if all the daemons of hell had fallen upon Tallarn. They had.

THE BATTLE FOR THE CURSUS

The human commander called a truce and hurried to the Eldar lines where the alien Seers sat waiting. Knowledge had finally opened their eyes. The Runestones lay cast upon the desert floor. Hope in union was predicted. Division would lead to damnation, darkness and death. With their fates so clearly predicted, the Eldar and Tallarn joined forces.

The two races fell back before the Chaos onslaught. Many were caught and destroyed in the early confusion, but the Chaos advance was slowed by the merciless hit and run tactics of the desert raiders. Humans led Eldar jet-bike riders into the attack, and soon the Tallarn and Eldar were able to regroup.

As the daemon hordes advanced beyond the Cursus their power waned, as if they were dependant upon its proximity for their power. And so it was, for the tendrils of Chaos though long are very tenuous, and only blood-letting and victory can sustain the link between the Dark Gods and their minions.

CHAOS DEFEATED

With skill and cunning the Tallarn drew out the Chaos battle lines. Choosing their targets carefully the Tallarn launched one attack after another, always retreating before the Chaos hordes could turn to meet their fire. It was a tactic calculated to drain the power of the horde, and it worked better than even the wily sons of the sulphur desert could have hoped.

The Eldar Seers saw the runes change, saw the opportunity develop. The daemons were fading fast, their glittering bodies growing ever more transparent, their cries ever weaker. Now was the time to hit them hard.

With a furious charge the Eldar and Tallarn threw their remaining strength against the gibbering horde. It was a last effort that would result in absolute victory or utter defeat. The Chaos hordes shuddered and the bodies of the daemons seemed to fade and dull. The crackle of energy died and the spark of life vaporised into the oily air.

Many lay dead, human and Eldar, gored by monstrous claws, crushed by the sensual caress of a poisoned tongue, or torn apart by razor sharp teeth. Many Eldar waystones were collected from the field, and many Tallarn taken back to their domes to surrender the water from their bodies to the hydrotanks. But it was victory nonetheless.

THE CURSUS

Once the Eldar had departed in peace, and the people of both races had exchanged their promises of friendship, the Tallarn returned to the Cursus. They found the black stone cold and lifeless once more, just as it was when they had first uncovered it. However, they knew now that the stone was not dead but merely sleeping, awaiting its time again, waiting for the call of its evil masters.

The Tallarn buried the Cursus beneath the sulphur sands once more and placed within its circle the mysterious devices that the Eldar had given them for that purpose. Then they sealed the surface with plascrete and turned their backs upon it.

• Tallarn Desert Raiders: Squads

Imperial Chimera: Imperial Guard

• The Chimera
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Ratling Snipers: Imperial Guard

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Leman Russ Demolisher: Imperial Guard

• The Forges of Mars
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• 'Eavy Metal: Space Marine Characters
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Imperial Griffon: Imperial Guard

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Follow Me, Men!: Codex Imperial Guard Preview

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Tyranid Invasion: GW Campaign of Ichar IV Defense by Ultramarines, Imperial Guard and Eldar

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Ker-Boom!: Imperial Guard Basilisk

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That's an Order!: Imperial Guard

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Incoming!: Imperial Guard Artillery

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Faith in the Emporer: Army Design

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    • An Ambush Scnario: Imperial Guard Stromtroopers vs. Orks

• Imperial Guard Armoured Fighting Vehicles (AFV): Background
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Tank Aces of the Imperial Guard: Captain Obadiah Schfeer (Forge World)

• The Varolian Steel Dogs: Armour Company
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Tank Aces of the Imperial Guard: Colonel 'Snake' Stranski

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Commissar Yarrick and Warlord Ghazghkull Mag Uruk Thraka

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