War leaders of smaller herds or trusted kin-beasts of herd commanders, many chiefs willingly accept the supremacy of a regional beast born lord. They direct portions of the herd in his absence, or have the honour of bearing the totems of the greatest heroes of the past, striking fear into the hearts of the foe and inspiring ferocity in their fellows.

Fierce and charismatic, centaur chiefs combine their marking’s wild power and impulsive speed with the ability to keep their unruly kin in line, knowing precisely when and where to strike for maximum effect. When the battle horn sounds, they lead their troop on headlong charges, delighting in the thrill of combat and the debauchery and looting that inevitably follows.

The greatest of the minotaurs, these colossal half-bulls are even more belligerent than other beasts when battle is joined. If their herd is threatened or they’re roused to anger, these avatars of bloodshed will let their restraint fall away, madly goring and trampling their enemies in a compulsive orgy of death.

The chieftains of the ox-men, these renowned butchers represent their comrades within a warherd. Possessing both the strength and temperament to commit bloodthirsty savagery, their lowing call can be heard across the field of battle, demoralizing the foe and rallying their kin.

Horns are symbols of great pride to fighting beasts, and those who have proven themselves worthy in battle are given a title that is normally translated as Wildhorn. Tough and hardy, they are veterans of raid and ambush. When the warherd is brought to battle, they form large mobs that stampede towards the enemy.

Those born to parents from incompatible womb markings tend to be diminutive compared to others. With the characteristics of multiple species, many are nonetheless skilled and experienced fighters, strong or cunning enough to survive and thrive despite the many dangers of life in a warherd.

Warriors that have taken up the bow to create particularly sudden and devastating raids, these expert scouts operate in the wild to identify sources of food and water, obstacles to the herd’s path, and inhabited areas to avoid or target. In battle, they can harass and hinder enemies, appearing just where they’re least expected or welcome.

Units of 8 or more models count towards Core instead of Special.

Bred for strength and viciousness, these packs aren’t trained to blindly obey: the relationship between beast and hound is closer to symbiosis, and the dogs are encouraged to retain as much of their wild nature as possible. They provide the herds with security and companionship, and fight alongside them during hunts and battles, learning the same ambush strategies.

The greatest warriors typically have the most impressive horns, and those granted the rank of Longhorn also carry the best arms and armour that the herd can provide. They are fiercely loyal, often forming a private wartribe for their leader, and in his name they break any army that stands in the herd’s path.

An ancient womb marking descended from the most ill-tempered cattle, minotaurs remain quick to anger when threatened or opposed. Their strength and size make them ideal shock troops, and they’re often found in the warherd’s vanguard, leading the charge and gorging themselves on the bloodied corpses of their fallen adversaries.

Markings based on horses have never fully succeeded, but have produced a fused creature that can act as powerful cavalry. Imperfect birthing sorceries leave most centaurs suffering from chronic headaches that can only be remedied by prodigious quantities of alcohol. Rash and impulsive, their common inebriation both contributes to and detracts from their ability to wage war.

Units of 3 or more models count towards Core instead of Special.

For the nomadic beast herds, wagons and other wheeled vehicles can be an indispensable mode of transportation for both beasts and their baggage. These constructs can be modified for battle, drawn by truculent beasts of burden and used to devastating effect in times of war.

Oversized boars with serrated tusks, these colossal porcine beasts are the product of womb marking that has enhanced size and territorial instincts, though it’s yet to produce intelligence or a bipedal stature. Trained to despise the beasts’ enemies, their squealing, thunderous charge is akin to a force of nature, shattering formations with sheer momentum.

Only the bravest of beasts possess the audacity and strength of will to tame a fully-grown razortusk and lash it to a sturdy chariot. Those that succeed enjoy greater status within the herd and are given a place of honour in the vanguard. They’re trusted with a sacred warhorn to signal the charge, filling nearby beasts with a primal ferocity.

The magic arts of womb marking are dangerous, and failures are common. In rare cases, severely mutated offspring can survive, deformed beyond recognition. Normally condemned to a benevolent exile, they’re allowed to follow the herd if they stay out of sight. Such concealed monsters can be a great aid in battle, especially since their warped minds do not know fear – only loneliness.

A complex and difficult womb marking has given these beasts wings, but it often robs them of their reasoning. Those few who retain a higher intelligence are great assets in any herd; they can serve as long-range sentries, able to spot threats and assail them with vicious aerial strikes.

The rarest and riskiest womb markings are the titan beasts: behemothic brutes sometimes as large as an adult giant. Of these, the cyclops are wisest and most insightful. Their enchanted eye perceives much and can see far – both literally and metaphorically, so it’s said. Their calm demeanour and mighty throwing arms are invaluable when the herd needs to overcome fortified holdfasts.

A gortach is the result of ambitious and perilous womb-marking rituals involving large conclaves of soothsayers, intended to produce the ultimate war-beast as a protector for the herd. These horned, many-limbed giants can tear down walls and decimate infantry formations with frightening ease. In battle, they gorge themselves on their fallen foes, gaining strength from their lifeblood.

Whenever a herd finds the unattended nest of a griffon or hippogriff, the soothsayers mark the stolen eggs, attempting to create a jabberwock. These mutant avian enormities have a sense of wrongness about them, as if their very existence is an affront to nature. On the battlefield, their clucking, screeching descent can rout even the most resolute of warriors.