The shuriken catapult is the standard weapon of the Aeldari, an elegant instrument as deadly as it is beautiful. Using a contained gravitic pulse, it flings a stream of monomolecular discs shaved from a solid core of psycho-plastic, each razored shuriken spinning fast enough to slice cleanly through armour and flesh alike.
A single shuriken catapult holds thousands of shots within its compact core, so its wielder need never pause to reload amid the swift, dancing warfare the Aeldari favour. The weapon makes no muzzle-flash and little sound — merely a soft hiss and a glittering cloud of blades — yet it leaves the dead sliced apart with a surgical cruelty that speaks to the ancient artistry of its makers.
Larger versions, the shuriken cannon and the heavier catapults, arm the Aeldari's grav-tanks and jetbikes, while the same principle animates the weapons of their Guardians and Aspect Warriors. To the Aeldari, warfare is an art like any other, to be performed with grace and precision rather than the brute noise of human guns. The shuriken catapult is that philosophy given form: swift, silent and merciless, killing with the same effortless elegance its wielders bring to everything they do. For all its beauty it is a thoroughly practical instrument of slaughter, and the peoples who dismiss the Aeldari as fragile artisans learn their error in the space of a heartbeat, cut down by a weapon that killed their ancestors ten thousand years before they were born.
The armoury continues
