Fighters 11 shown

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

The Captain is the Chapter Master at the head of the burning advance. On the Salamanders roster he is the Leader who bears the Forgefather's office, and he leads from the front of the fire. His statline is the finest the strike force fields: WS and BS 2+, four Wounds, three Attacks, and the command to hold a line that will not move until the enemy is ash. And They Shall Know No Fear. The Promethean endurance of the forge-tempered body lays Feel No Pain 6+ over those four transhuman wounds, and between them they make him the anvil the whole gang forms behind. Once per battle he calls Finest Hour, gaining an extra Attack while friendlies within 6" re-roll failed Wound rolls until the next round. He fights to the declared Doctrine, and under the Promethean Cult his flame and melta weapons burn hotter at close range. He carries a power fist and boltgun by default. But the bearer of the office may take the Spear of Vulkan and lead the slow, deathless walk into melta distance.

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

Derived from 7 codex citations.

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

The Lieutenant is the second command tier — the officer who carries the Captain's will to the far end of the line and holds a flank the Chapter Master cannot. At WS 2+, three Wounds and three Attacks he is a killer in his own right, a half-step below the Captain and a clear cut above the battle-line. And They Shall Know No Fear and the Promethean endurance make him as hard to put down as any son of Vulkan, Feel No Pain 6+ over three transhuman wounds. Like the Captain he may call Finest Hour once per battle, lending an extra Attack and letting friendlies within 6" re-roll failed Wound rolls until the next round. He fights to the declared Doctrine, and his flame and melta weapons burn hotter within half range under the Promethean Cult. He carries a power sword and boltgun into the advance. Field him to split the gang into two burning fists, each with a command that will not break.

Priced at a firm credit cost.

Derived from 7 codex citations.

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

The Techmarine is the artisan of the Chapter, the forge-wright of the Promethean cult whose craft arms the whole strike force. On Nocturne every son of Vulkan is a smith. The Techmarine is the master of that tradition, the hand that tempers a relic weapon and mends armour mid-war. He fights as a Champion at T5 and three Wounds, holding the line with a power fist and boltgun while his true work is the forge. And They Shall Know No Fear and the Promethean endurance carry him, Feel No Pain 6+ over the transhuman body. He fights to the declared Doctrine, and under the Promethean Cult his flame and melta weapons burn hotter at close range. His deeper worth is master-crafting: a chosen weapon in the gang re-rolls a failed Hit each battle, the edge of a Nocturnean forge walking with the strike force. Field him where the advance grinds slow and the guns must not fail.

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

Derived from 7 codex citations.

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

The Librarian is the Chapter's psyker — a battle-brother whose mind is a weapon as sure as the flame the line carries. He fights as a Champion at T5 and three Wounds, a force weapon in hand and a bolt pistol at his hip, his psychic powers resolved apart from his skill access. And They Shall Know No Fear and the Promethean endurance hold him, Feel No Pain 6+ over the transhuman body, and he fights to the declared Doctrine like any son of Vulkan. Under the Promethean Cult his flame and melta weapons burn hotter within half range. His force weapon cuts where mortal steel cannot, and his witchfire adds a lever the flame-line lacks — reaching a target behind cover the slow advance has not yet closed on. Field him as the mind of the burning host: a killer at the front of the line whose sanctioned gift bends a battle the guns alone cannot.

Priced at a firm credit cost.

Derived from 6 codex citations.

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

The Chaplain is the spiritual iron of the Chapter — the keeper of the Promethean creed who drives the line forward with faith as much as fire. He fights as a Champion at T5 and three Wounds, the crozius arcanum in his fist and a bolt pistol at his side, a zealot in the front rank where the advance is hardest. And They Shall Know No Fear and the Promethean endurance make him a stubborn thing to kill, Feel No Pain 6+ over the transhuman body, and he fights to the declared Doctrine with the gang. Under the Promethean Cult his flame and melta weapons burn hotter at close range. His true worth is the creed he carries: the brothers around him stand and endure because he stands and endures, and the crozius answers the enemy that closes on him. Field him at the heart of the slow walk, the voice that keeps the burning host moving through fire that would break lesser resolve.

Priced at a firm credit cost.

Derived from 6 codex citations.

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

The Apothecary is the Chapter's healer — the brother who keeps the burning line on its feet and recovers the gene-seed of those it cannot save. He fights as a Champion at T5 and three Wounds, a chainsword and boltgun in hand, but his narthecium is his purpose. And They Shall Know No Fear and the Promethean endurance carry him, Feel No Pain 6+ over the transhuman body, and he fights to the declared Doctrine like any son of Vulkan. Under the Promethean Cult his flame and melta weapons burn hotter within half range. The narthecium projects a Feel No Pain 6+ aura to the brothers near him and improves their recovery once the battle is done, so a line already tempered to endure endures longer still with him among it. Field him behind the slow advance, close enough to steady the fighters holding under fire — the hand that decides which fallen brother rises to fight again.

Priced at a firm credit cost.

Derived from 7 codex citations.

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

The Marine is the burning heart of a Salamanders strike force — a T5, three-wound battle-brother who walks into the range other Chapters fear and lets the fire do the rest. And They Shall Know No Fear holds him steady where lesser troops break, and the Promethean endurance of the forge-tempered body grants him Feel No Pain 6+, so the line grinds forward through punishment that would scatter a mortal squad. His boltgun and chainsword are the Codex standard, but the Sons of Vulkan arm him for the close war: meltagun and flamer saturate the kill-zone, and under the Promethean Cult his flame and melta weapons burn hotter within half range. He fights to the declared Doctrine like any Astartes, shifting one step each round as the advance closes. Field him in bulk behind the Gravis-marked heavies — not fast and not subtle, but the anvil that endures and the torch that arrives, the brother who holds his ground and burns the enemy out.

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

Derived from 6 codex citations.

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

The Scout is the neophyte of the Chapter — the cheap, plentiful entry body that fills out a Salamanders line before a brother earns his power plate. Lighter than a full Marine at T4 and two Wounds, he wears a 4+ carapace and carries a boltgun and combat knife, trading the bulk of the line for numbers and a forward position. Even untempered by the full rites, he already bears the creed: And They Shall Know No Fear keeps his nerve, and the Promethean endurance grants him Feel No Pain 6+, so the youngest son of Nocturne still refuses to fall. He fights to the declared Doctrine with the rest of the gang. Field Scouts to screen the slow advance, hold ground the heavies are still walking toward, and put early fire on a target the flame-line will finish. He is expendable in a way no battle-brother is — and he knows it, and he stands anyway.

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 Dreadnought is the revered war-engine of the forge — an interred hero of Nocturne, woken from the sarcophagus to walk the line one more war. A walker at T7 and five Wounds. Brute-tier armour and strength, a Dreadnought close-combat weapon in one fist and vehicle-scaled guns in the other. And They Shall Know No Fear is his by right, for the hero within knows no fear he did not conquer in life. He is not flesh to temper, so the Promethean endurance passes him by. He needs it least. A machine-tomb shrugs blows the living line cannot. He fights to the declared Doctrine, holding the ground the advance forms behind, and under the Promethean Cult he carries the burning advance as its heaviest fist. Field him as the immovable heart of the slow walk: a sacred engine the enemy must destroy outright, because it will not break and it will not tire.

Priced at a firm credit cost.

Derived from 1 codex citation.

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

The Redemptor Dreadnought is the greatest war-engine the strike force can field — a towering walker of T7 and six Wounds, faster and deadlier than the ancient patterns, an interred hero housed in a frame built to end battles. Four Attacks fall from a Redemptor fist, and macro-scaled guns saturate the ground ahead of the slow line. And They Shall Know No Fear is his by right, the hero within past all fear. Machine and tomb rather than flesh, he takes no Promethean endurance and needs none — the frame endures punishment the living brothers never could. He fights to the declared Doctrine, and under the Promethean Cult he is the revered engine that carries the burning advance forward, the piece the whole gang forms behind. Field him where the fight must be broken open: a sacred colossus that costs a fortune and earns it, walking into the kill-zone the enemy hoped to deny and holding the near ground while the flame arrives.

Priced at a firm credit cost.

Derived from 1 codex citation.

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

The Centurion is the man-portable siege anvil — a battle-brother sealed into a heavy warsuit that sits between the Gravis line and the Dreadnought. Slow at M4" but armoured to a 2+ warsuit save over T6 and four Wounds, he is a walking strongpoint built to soak fire and grind forward under the weight of a heavy weapon. And They Shall Know No Fear steadies the pilot within, and the Promethean endurance layers Feel No Pain 6+ over that already-punishing body, making him one of the hardest things in the gang to put down. He fights to the declared Doctrine, and under the Promethean Cult his flame and melta weapons burn hotter at close range. His heavy bolter anchors the advance, and siege drills answer whatever survives to reach him. Field him as the immovable centre of the slow walk — the piece the enemy must break and cannot, while the flame-line closes past him into range.

Priced at a firm credit cost.

Derived from 3 codex citations.