Where the covens dance and scream, the Blood Stalkers hold still. Serpentine and silent, they coil at the edges of battle with heartseeker bows drawn, reading the field the way an augur reads omens, and their arrows have an uncanny appetite for the heart. Champions, priests, and warlords fall mid-triumph, unpicked from the melee by shafts that seem to swerve toward the one target that matters.
Between wars the Blood Stalkers serve as temple wardens, watching over shrine approaches and the sanctums where the cult's older secrets sleep. Each shot is a small liturgy — the archer whispers Khaine's name as the string sings, dedicating the kill — and the whisper is heard, though not by Khaine. Morathi prizes her Stalkers precisely for that stillness: faith that burns quietly lasts longest.
Order of battle
