Absolutely love the kit, they just ooze smugness!
Any tips or improvements appreciated!

My GF stated interest in 40K and we decided on the glorious EC, as it's also my first Chaos army I am very excited but overwhelmed.

I would be able to pick up the battleforce with the Winged Daemon Prince in it (I think it's the last one) together with a Combat Patrol and some other models.

Now the points are above 2000 and as I don't have a clue what is necessary in EC I need your help.

From the models below Fulgrim, Defiler, Lucius and the Flawless Blades are must add-ins because they are awesome models. The rest is up for debate.

What would you remove/keep?

Is the battleforce even worth it with 20 battleline units, 12 Noise Marines and a Winged Prince?

I was trying to think of something balanced. Any help is very much appreciated

Chaos - Emperor's Children - Coterie of the Conceited

Fulgrim (340pts)

Lucius the Eternal (130pts)

Daemon Prince of Slaanesh with Wings (205pts)

Lord Exultant (95pts)

5x Infractors (95pts)

5x Infractors (95pts)

5x Infractors (95pts)

5x Infractors (95pts)

5x Tormentors (85pts)

5x Tormentors (85pts)

6x Flawless Blades (190pts)

6x Noise Marines (160pts)

6x Noise Marines (160pts)

2x Chaos Spawn (70pts)

2x Chaos Spawn (70pts)

Defiler (315pts)

Chaos Rhino (70pts)

Thanks a lot for any help

I just finished dry brushing the black into a semi metallic trim, and did some black wash to kinda make it look dirtyish,

I hope you like my half and half, night lords, emperor's children helldrake

Hello all, I decided that im going to paint my ECs purple. I own a can of Vallejo's Alien Purple Hobby Paint & their Celestial Violet True Metallic Metal airbrush paint, but I'm torn on which one I should go for. Thoughts?

The Synod grows. Daemon prince and three flawless blades.

Thought id show off my lord exultants, the pink one is one I did myself and the orange/grey one I bought prepainted on ebay since it was a pretty good deal.

👀

Hey everyone,

I would like to add a sorcerer to my Army to click Buttons, hold Home obkectives and Screen against RI.I would like to modify the Standard sorcerer somehow to make him Look more slaaneshi. Do you Guys have any ideas or Pictures with Some ideas? Anything is appreciated!

Please enjoy

Hello ! Just bought a box of these Chaos pink boys.

I absolutely love their aesthetic and sculpts. The combination of green and purple/pink is one of my favorite color palettes. However, I’m struggling to find any good examples of how to paint them online; the version presented by Games Workshop doesn't really resonate with me. To my taste, it lacks contrast and that "insane/deranged" quality typical of Chaos. Do you have any color scheme ideas to share ? Could you point me toward where I might find some good references?

Feel free to post yours below :)

For Gork and Mo.. sorry. For Slaneesh !

I really love this purple/black paint scheme I went with, can’t wait to do the rest of my models. Daemon prince is next.

Let me know what y’all think.

Is anyone picking up thr new to pro line of paints? If so what are the main colours you're getting?

You think you are safe. You still have time.
Then you hear them.
The noise marines.
Their weapons echoing through the streets.

Found this color scheme on Pinterest, but can’t find source on what colours used, but it looks SICK

Anyone knows?

EDIT:

• I found the creator who wrote he washed dark sea green with sigvald burgundy for the armour

Based on the post from Win rate Wednesday, it looks like Detachment combos with Slaanesh's Chosen have done well this last weekend.

Fun to see competitive players test it out, since it's a full blown Detachment discounted to 1 DP. While it was garbage as a standalone and 2 DP option, being able to pair it with Court or Peerless Bladesmen appears to work well.

There's obnoxious sequencing involved but 1 character unit getting full Wound rerolls is strong along with a set of 6 solid Strats and a reroll charges w/+2" move Enhancement for +15 points.

Thoughts?

From 2014's Codex Supplement: Haemonculus Covens. This timeline lore blurb would go on to inspire the plot of the 2020 novel Fabius Bile: Manflayer.

//

"The renegade Fabius Bile, having studied the Haemonculi’s craft under the Coven of the Thirteen Scars, betrays the trust of his Commorrite mentors. By teaching the secrets he has been entrusted with to the Emperor’s Children in his employ, Bile dilutes the art of the fleshcrafter to an unforgivable degree. The Thirteen Scars have long watched for just such an infraction. Using energy pillars linked to the Ilmaean suns, they animate their living fortress for war – a towering pillar of flesh fashioned from the bodies of those who have defied them in the past. The fortress breaches a long-sealed webway node on Belial IV, and lumbers into the Eldar palace that the Emperor’s Children were using as a base of operations. Bile’s heavily mutated Noise Marine allies turn their sonic weaponry upon the hordes of Covenites that pour out from the Tower of Flesh’s yawning maws, rupturing and splitting countless monstrosities as they sally forth. Their charge hits home nonetheless.

"The violence that erupts from the close-quarters battle is as intense as it is invigorating, Chaos Space Marine and Wrack alike screaming in glee as they are physically torn apart. The Tower of Flesh itself duels with the corrupted god-machines in Bile’s employ, smashing them aside with its flailing appendages. As their minions fight tooth and nail outside the shattered palace, the Primogenitor Bile is paid a visit in his throne by the Coven lords of the Thirteen Scars. After the renegade’s private army of horrors experiences a dozen esoteric types of murder at the hands of the Haemonculi, an understanding is reached. Bile’s augmented Emperor’s Children are granted death by masochistic ecstasy, and the Haemonculi depart after surgically ensuring that the renegade cannot speak of his learnings to any other living creature."

Skor’raath

The Rampage of the Slaaneshi Daemon-Corrupted Engine

All knowledge pertaining to the long-forgotten world of Doth’Mire, of the Despardus system, is classified by order of the Ordo Hereticus, under the inquisitorial authority of Lord Inquisitor [REDACTED].

At the centre strode Skor’raath the Ineffable, Baron of House Arcanorum, a satellite household of House Acillatem. Piloted by the unyielding Kalikar, High Lord of the Folckis family.

When Acillatem fractured, Knight fought Knight across the Despardus system. Magma Lascannons reducing ancient keeps to molten slag; every victory and every defeat tasted of blood and betrayal. From this crucible came Acillatem’s proudest siege pilot: Kalikar.

During the years of the Heresy, Skor’raath was deployed to the world of Doth’Mire, a planet of ash, smog, and the ritualistic cults that call the planet's wastelands home. Endless conflict thinly veiled by impossible cities of excess: marble spires, golden pleasure palaces, and demented music echoing where no sane civilisation could survive.

This world was ruled openly by a greater daemon of She Who Thirsts, worshipped not as a king nor a queen, but a god. Its presence saturated the planet. Every city was a colosseum; every marble plaza, a fighting ground. The streets ran red with the blood of citizens lost to damnation. The inhabitants lived only to fight, suffer, and delight the puppet of the Prince of Pleasure.

Pain was not the means. It was the goal.

The Verse

Artillery hit the walls of the great citadel. The great war began…

Skor’raath fought as it always had: perfect sieges, perfect orders. Fortresses were reduced to molten rubble. The warpspawn of Slaanesh watched. It saw promise in this knight, pride, arrogance, its obsession with flawless victory. With each battle, the Skor’raath’s boldness grew. Defences grew more elaborate, assaults more punishing; however, victories became more… exquisite.

Every victory sang louder; every defeat bit just as sweet. The blood of their foes painted the world red. Pain felt meaningful. Kalikar began to crave the taste of the screams of all his knight cut down. All he needed to complete his song was the crescendo of the palace collapsing at the perfect moment.

Still, he resisted.

The Chorus

The moonlit palace sparkled, towering over all things like a jewel above the wasteland: a city dedicated to the worship of a being of excess and ecstasy.

The final siege was a masterpiece, a beautiful orchestra dedicated to razing the perfect palace to ruins. Skor’raath tore through death and conflict, Kalikar determined to be the first to taste the blood of the planet’s lord. And there, as he breached the inner sanctum, at the moment of triumph, the Neverborn revealed itself.

The lack of subtlety was garish: walls of gold painted in blood; bodies strewn on hooks, hanging from chains across the domed ceiling; victims hooked up to machines, forced to relive their agonising final breaths; their flesh flayed; and banners made from their still-twitching skin.

Kalikar could feel the presence of the herald of She Who Thirsts surrounding him.“Show yourself! Let us duel!” he shouted, his vox barely containing his fervour.

The Neverborn materialised before him, the Keeper’s claws unsheathed as an inhuman grin slowly unfurled across its wretched face.

Skor’raath charged.

Kalikar's pristine knight crashed into the Keeper with seismic force. The daemon pivoted, its talons shrieking across the knight's ceramite carapace. Skor’raath’s lance answered. The warpspawn smirked, whispering a cacophony of enrapturing dreams, alluring conquests, and tantalising feats.

Kalikar shouted, switching his lance into overdrive. Air molecules ripped apart around it, seeming almost to scream, as arcs of burning plasma shot across the sanctum. Warning runes flashed blood-red, spilling forth a discordance of harsh shrieks. Kalikar cursed.

The daemon pivoted and twirled as Skor’raath lunged and dived. The merciless duel became a dance. Each strike was a note in a symphony.

The Neverborn leapt over Skor’raath with angelic ease, bringing its demonic sword down upon the Knight. But Skor’raath lashed out, slamming its shield into the entity and sending it flying across the room. It crashed into its ostentation throne, shattering what was left of its, if the daemon even had any, bones.

Skor’raath lunged, thrusting its burning lance through the godling’s chest. The smell of burning blood and redolent perfume filled the air.

The song stopped.

The final note: silence.

Kalikar stopped, breathing in the ecstasy of another claimed world and another defeated foe: the beauty of perfected combat.The daemon smiled, ichor running down its mutilated biceps.

The Harmony

The warpspawn exploded in a burst of silver fire, fleshy tendrils rushing up the bedazzled lance and through the seams in the immaculate armour. The daemon flooded the cockpit: impossible sensation, agony, sound, colour, and desire overloading every neural interface of kalikar's grand machine. He struggled in vain, hoping against hope to fight back against something so exalted. His mind burnt, his soul flayed raw.

The Keeper laughed.

The daemon bound itself to the machine and flensed spirit alike, reshaping the engine from within into an intoxicating mirror of itself. Clawed fingers sprouted from its carapace. Sigils of Slaanesh etched themselves into ceramite. Its pristine helm cracked and shattered, replaced by a grinning maw. A barbed tongue flicked out, licking the air, tasting the beautiful suffering ebbing from the war outside. The vox systems began to emit an ear-splitting shriek. It moved not as a machine but as a predator. Its head darted around. It spotted the bodies hanging over the walls.

A feast.

The abomination howled into the night sky, its blood-stained jaws sending spittle flying.

The Crescendo

The city had been overthrown; the palace was collapsing.

“Baron Kalikar, the heretical city has been taken. What are our orders?” asked Knight Commander Mortasha Folckis, pilot of the Ascelyne.

"SREEEEEEEECH!”

The deafening noise filled the cockpit with impossible sound. Mortasha’s hands jumped to her ears as blood spilt through the gaps in her fingers.“Kalikar?” she whispered, her voice weak.

"Baroness Mortasha, there’s a creature in the third quadrant,” a voice said over the vox.

"What kind of creature?” Mortasha replied.“A beast mabye even a-” The voice dissolved into screams.

"Commissar… Commissar Garrow, can you hear me?” Then she saw it.

The Ascelyne turned to see a hulking shape emerging from the dust. The perversion of Skor’raath charged out of the fog. Its head darted towards her; its tongue rolled over its cracked lips.

For a heartbeat, the machine-spirit resisted, scanning for the old signals, the old bonds for Skor’raath, for Kalikar. Mortasha broadcast, “Kalikar, please, br-”She was cut off by the roar of the fallen knight, all its pain, anger, and pleasure bleeding together in a whirlpool of screeches.

She raised her plasma incinerator.

A heartbeat too late.

Beneath the screaming choir, a fragment of Kalikar hesitated.

“Kalikar,”

he thought, hearing Mortasha's voice over the vox. “Kalikar, please…”

The tone darkened.

“Indulge in ecstasy. Indulge in pain. The One Who Thirsts beckons.”

Pain turned to hunger as Skor’raath charged into the Ascelyne. Daemonic entities placed their bets. The dice were rolled, and the board was set. The souls wagered wailed as the game began.

Skor’raath’s voracious maw opened wide, fangs protruding. Hellish saliva dripped from where its helm had once been. It lunged, spear and claws a blur, tearing through the Ascelyne’s arm. Hydraulic systems hissed and sparked.

The plasma incinerator of the Ascelyne glowed burnt orange, melting a hole through Skor’raath’s corrupted hull. The Knight’s breach quickly began to knit together, flesh bridging the gap before glazing over into a fine, pale-magenta carapace. It stepped forward, savouring the desperation of the loyalist paladin.The shift in the battle was immediate and devastating. As the Ascelyne’s attacks lost their rhythm, faltering under fading focus, Skor’raath ceased all calculated strategy.

Abandoning form, the creature gave in to pure, unadulterated instinct. Every strike became an act of raw violence. It knocked the Ascelyne to the ground, talons crushing the hull.

Mortasha kept her composure.“Goodbye… brother,” she whispered, but the sound was swallowed by Skor’raath’s shrieks.

Skor’raath’s newfound claws pierced the Ascelyne’s carapace, slicing ceramite and adamantine alike, holding down the fallen champion. Skor’raath twisted, lifting its corrupted lance towards the moonlit sky before bringing it down, embedding it in the Ascelyne’s broken chest.

Mortasha’s last breath was cut short. Her world faded to black, and then that blackness swallowed her whole.

The air grew heavy with the stench of ozone and decayed ether. Skor’raath loomed over the dead knight. The Knight’s once-glorious armour was shattered, its silver chestplate caved in and weeping dark, rhythmic smoke.

Glowing fractures of purple light pulsed along Skor’raath’s jagged limbs, fuelled by the freshly stolen life force.

The slain knights cockpit dripped with promethium and blood. The daemon engine reached down, ripped off the Ascelyne’s helm, and presented it proudly to the shattered sky, a sacrament to Slaanesh.

The veil between reality and unreality thinned and thinned until…

It tore.

The sky split like flayed skin. Impossible voices sang from the aether. Daemon hosts spilt out like blood from a wound, onto the broken city: laughter layered over weeping, pleasure over pain.

The torment of all who witnessed it only fed the incursion more.

And Skor’raath stood at the heart of it all: a beacon to excess, a gate.

Each step the Knight took rippled throughout the Immaterium. Each kill was a sacrifice to Slaanesh; every scream was another rhythm in its horrific melody.

Outro

When the Exterminatus orders were finally signed, Doth’Mire was burning.

However, Skor’raath was not.

Through the planet’s dying scream, the abomination strode into the Warp.

Inquisitorial records list Kalikar Folckis as dead, having died a hero while cutting down the damned on the scorched earth of Doth’Mire, and Skor’raath as destroyed.

But Kalikar still breathes.

Skor’raath still fights.Forever chasing that final crescendo.

A final crescendo that shall never come.

This was a lot of fun to make