Fighters 14 shown

Codex-derived. Derived from your codex by the conversion engine — a calibrated house value.

The Company Commander is the mind of a Cadian gang and the single Leader every muster is built around. He does not win fights by fighting; he wins them by making a firing line act as one. Through the Voice of Command he issues two Orders each round, and under the Combined-Arms Doctrine he draws from the whole menu — a massed volley here, a marked target there, a squad hurled onto an objective — choosing the right word for the moment rather than the same word every time. He carries a laspistol and power sword behind flak and a refractor field that turns the shot meant to end him, but his armour is the least of him: kill the officer and the Orders stop the instant he falls. He fights from the second rank, close enough to be heard, and the line holds while he speaks.

A kitbash option — off the stock kit, a celebrated conversion.

Derived from 5 codex citations.

Codex-derived. Derived from your codex by the conversion engine — a calibrated house value.

The High-Command Leader is the mounted apex of the single Leader slot — a general of the Astra Militarum riding at the head of his corps, not a second commander but the grandest form the one may take. He issues two Orders a round as any Company Commander does, and once a battle his word carries across the whole field: a single army-wide Order that reaches every officer and subordinate at once, the strategic stroke that turns a firefight. The Combined-Arms Doctrine is his to spend in full, every Order in the menu open to him each turn. He rides with bolt pistol and power sword behind a refractor field, faster and tougher than the men he leads — yet the same truth binds him. The chain of command is made of men who can be shot, and when the general falls the Orders fall silent with him.

Priced at a firm credit cost.

Derived from 5 codex citations.

Codex-derived. Derived from your codex by the conversion engine — a calibrated house value.

The Lieutenant carries the Voice of Command down into the line — a junior officer close enough to the men to be heard over the guns. He issues one Order a round, a single word that sharpens a squad's next action, and it is his rank that lets a gang keep issuing Orders after the Company Commander falls. He leads from the front with laspistol and chainsword, flak his only real protection, and he dies much as his men do; what he leaves behind is a promoted veteran who takes up the Voice in his place. Two wounds and a firm hand make him the spine of the officer corps — the rank that holds the line together where the fighting is closest.

Priced at a firm credit cost.

Derived from 4 codex citations.

Codex-derived. Derived from your codex by the conversion engine — a calibrated house value.

The Commissar is discipline made flesh — the officer whose presence, not his marksmanship, keeps an expendable line from breaking. Under the Aura of Discipline, friendly non-officers within 6" auto-pass Nerve tests and re-roll a failed Cool test; the mob does not run while he stands among it. Once a battle, when that is not enough, he makes a Summary Execution — a wavering fighter within 3" passes the test it has just failed, at the price of a Flesh Wound, the Emperor's mercy delivered by a bolt-round. He carries bolt pistol and power sword behind flak and a refractor field, and he is dangerous enough in his own right, but his true weapon is the certainty he instils in every soldier who can see him.

Priced at a firm credit cost.

Derived from 5 codex citations.

Codex-derived. Derived from your codex by the conversion engine — a calibrated house value.

The Ministorum Priest is the Regiment's second voice of discipline, and where the Commissar rules by fear the Priest rules by faith. He is a firebrand in robes, a fragile fighter with little more than cloth between him and harm, who fights with laspistol and eviscerator-class chainsword and cares nothing for his own safety. His zealot's bark carries to every friendly fighter within 6": they re-roll a failed Nerve test and strike with +1 Attack in melee, hurled into the foe on the strength of his sermon. He stands beside the Commissar as a second discipline character, giving a Cadian gang two hearts that must both be silenced before the line will break — one held by the pistol, one held by the creed.

Priced at a firm credit cost.

Derived from 3 codex citations.

Codex-derived. Derived from your codex by the conversion engine — a calibrated house value.

The Regimental Medic is the reason a Cadian line can be spent and still endure. His narthecium projects a Feel No Pain 6+ aura to fighters around him, and in the post-battle sequence his care draws wounded soldiers back from lasting harm who would otherwise be lost. He is a specialist Champion and no great fighter — laspistol and flak, a close-combat blade at need — and he keeps to the ranks he mends rather than the front. In a faction that wins by numbers and the next rank behind the dead one, the man who keeps the ranks filled is worth more than his statline admits.

Priced at a firm credit cost.

Derived from 4 codex citations.

Codex-derived. Derived from your codex by the conversion engine — a calibrated house value.

The Master Vox-Operator is the reach of the chain of command — the specialist who carries the Cadian command-net on his back. Through the Master Vox he relays a single Order beyond line of sight, landing an officer's word on a subordinate the officer cannot see, anywhere the signal will carry. He is fragile, a bare specialist with laspistol and flak, and worth killing precisely for the array he bears; take him and the layered net collapses to what the officers can see with their own eyes. While he lives, the Regiment's Orders reach the whole field, and a Cadian gunline fights as one machine rather than a scatter of squads.

Priced at a firm credit cost.

Derived from 4 codex citations.

Codex-derived. Derived from your codex by the conversion engine — a calibrated house value.

The Enginseer is an Adeptus Mechanicus adept seconded to the Regiment, keeper of its machines and its heavier war-engines. His servo-arm is both tool and weapon — enough to crush a foe that closes, though he would sooner tend a stalled gun than fight. He is the one Regiment host for the Munitorum Servitor, the lobotomised familiar that attends him alone. Laspistol and flak keep him alive; his worth is in what he mends, coaxing a silenced heavy weapon or a stalled walker back into the fight when a lesser gang would leave it dead. Where the Enginseer walks, the machine-spirits of Cadia's arms are appeased.

Priced at a firm credit cost.

Derived from 4 codex citations.

Codex-derived. Derived from your codex by the conversion engine — a calibrated house value.

The Guardsman is the mortal line of the Astra Militarum and the measure against which every other fighter is set — a single soldier in flak with a lasgun and a bayonet, one wound between him and the dark. Alone he is unremarkable; ranked shoulder to shoulder and told where to shoot, a hundred of him become a wall of las-fire that grinds down whatever the galaxy sends. He fights at range with the lasgun and finishes the work with the bayonet, holding his ground on drill and the certainty that another rank stands behind him. Expendable and disciplined, he breaks when leaderless and stands against anything the moment an officer's voice reaches him.

A kitbash option — off the stock kit, a celebrated conversion.

Derived from 4 codex citations.

Codex-derived. Derived from your codex by the conversion engine — a calibrated house value.

The Special-Weapons Trooper is an ordinary Guardsman handed an extraordinary gun — the squad's answer to what a lasgun cannot kill. From the shared armoury he carries one special weapon: a flamer to clear cover, a meltagun to gut armour, a plasma gun to burn through the elite, or a grenade launcher to reach past the line. He is no tougher than any other soldier — flak, one wound, a laspistol at his hip — and he earns his place solely by the weapon he carries and the target it unlocks. Steady Hands from a nearby veteran lets him fire that heavy tool on the move; otherwise he plants himself and makes the shot count.

Priced at a firm credit cost.

Derived from 4 codex citations.

Codex-derived. Derived from your codex by the conversion engine — a calibrated house value.

The Heavy-Weapons Team is the fire backbone of a Cadian gang — a two-crew platform hauling one of the armoury's heavy guns: heavy bolter, autocannon, lascannon, missile launcher, mortar or heavy flamer. It is slow, moving only 4", and its weapons are Unwieldy, so it fights best dug in and fed a target rather than manoeuvring. The crew are ordinary Guardsmen, T3 and a single wound apiece, protected by nothing better than flak; the value is entirely in the gun. Cadia leans on these teams harder than any other Regiment, layering two or three behind cover into a firebase that answers everything from massed infantry to enemy armour. Steady Hands and a marked target turn that slow, heavy fire into the anvil the whole line fights around.

Priced at a firm credit cost.

Derived from 3 codex citations.

Codex-derived. Derived from your codex by the conversion engine — a calibrated house value.

The Veteran Guardsman is the elite of the mortal line — a soldier who has survived enough battlefields to shoot straighter, hold steadier, and earn carapace plate over standard flak. He fights with lasgun or boltgun and may carry a special weapon of his own, and with magnoculars he reads a battlefield the rank-and-file cannot. Better in every soldierly respect than the common trooper — a 4+ save, sharper WS and BS, a firmer nerve — he is the body the Inquisition requisitions as its storm-trooper muscle. He is still a mortal man, still one wound from the dark, but he is the mortal man the Regiment trusts with its hardest work.

Priced at a firm credit cost.

Derived from 3 codex citations.

Codex-derived. Derived from your codex by the conversion engine — a calibrated house value.

The Conscript is the rawest levy the Regiment can field — a pressed body with a lasgun and light flak, almost no training, and the lowest cost on the whole ladder. His nerve is poor and his aim worse; left to himself he breaks and runs, but held inside a Commissar's Aura of Discipline he stands and fires with the rest. He is spent like ammunition, thrown forward in numbers to soak fire and hold ground that better fighters need not die for, and promoted to full Guardsman if he lives long enough to learn the trade. One wound, a 6+ save, and the certainty that there are always more of him — that is the whole of a Conscript.

Priced at a firm credit cost.

Derived from 3 codex citations.

Codex-derived. Derived from your codex by the conversion engine — a calibrated house value.

The Ogryn is the Regiment's abhuman muscle — a slab of loyal, dull-witted strength that towers over the line it fights beside. T5 with three wounds and three attacks, it shrugs off blows that would fell a Guardsman and hits back hard enough to break a foe in a single exchange. It carries a ripper-gun that fires on the advance and clubs at close quarters, or a bullgryn maul behind a slabshield that walls off a whole approach. Slow of mind and simple to command, it does exactly what its officers tell it and no more — which, pointed at the enemy, is precisely enough. Where the mortal line is fragile, the Ogryn is the one body in a Cadian gang that can simply take a hit and keep coming.

Priced at a firm credit cost.

Derived from 3 codex citations.