MOLFAR BIOCHEMIST (BIOLOGIST)

The Molfar Biochemist enters the battlefield wrapped in a bulky orange protective suit, his wide glass visor reflecting fire, smoke, and the silhouettes of the damned. The outfit looks clumsy and ill-suited for combat, yet appearances deceive: within that armored shell stands a master of alchemical warfare, trained in secrets preserved by Carpathian healers and forbidden monastic archives. His movements are deliberate, his silence unsettling, as though each step is measured against a hidden formula known only to him.

He wields a polearm halberd fitted with chemical reservoirs, glass vials, and tarnished metal, a weapon that is both blade and laboratory. With it he can slice, pierce, or dose an enemy in a single motion, turning combat into experiment. The hiss of vapors, the crack of glass, the sting of steel — all blend into a ritual of destruction and discovery. To him, the battlefield is not chaos but a living text, a manuscript written in blood and corruption, waiting to be read.

Creatures that would send ordinary soldiers fleeing instead push him into a controlled trance. Years of dissecting horrors and studying the corruption that twists their flesh have hardened him against fear. He does not recoil at their stench or deformity; he observes, catalogues, and prepares. Each abomination is a specimen, each mutation a clue. His gaze is clinical, his strikes precise, his intent unwavering.

Across the chaos of the trenches he moves with eerie precision, harvesting samples, marking mutations, and striking with almost ritual intent. Soldiers who glimpse him at work whisper that he is less a man than a priest of decay, officiating at a grim liturgy where science and sorcery intertwine. His notes are scrawled on scraps of cloth, etched into metal, or whispered into the smoke — fragments of a terrible scripture that seeks to unmake Hell itself.

His purpose is simple and terrible: to learn how to unmake the horrors of Hell by first understanding them. He does not fight for victory in the ordinary sense, nor for glory or survival. His war is against corruption itself, against the hidden rot that festers beneath creation. To him, every wound is a record, every corpse a testimony, every scream a revelation.

“The body remembers everything. Even sin.”

Fully compatible with Trench Crusade

A dream for painters and grimdark collectors

The set – “MOLFAR BIOCHEMIST”, designed by Wargames Crew

Overall height 53 mm, with a base size of 32 mm.

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