With Slaanesh imprisoned and the throne of excess standing empty, an obvious ambition has taken root among the mightiest Hedonites: if the god is gone, why should the seat stay vacant? Each Pretenders Host is sworn to a single magnetic despot who has answered that question in the affirmative, styling themselves rightful heir to the Dark Prince and building an entire army around the audacity of the claim.
Such a Pretender fashions their court as Slaanesh's own in miniature (perfect, adored, absolute), a gorgeous and terrible pageant of favourites and champions arranged to reflect the master's glory. Every campaign is waged as a coronation rehearsal, each conquest a jewel for a crown not yet worn, each battle a chance to prove before gods and rivals that here stands one fit to inherit divinity. This is why a Pretender's followers fight with devotion shading into fanaticism: to serve a would-be god is to stand within arm's reach of godhood, to bask in a radiance one might, in some intoxicating future, be permitted to share. That few Pretenders will ever ascend, and most will be cast down by the next despot with a brighter claim, troubles the faithful not at all, for in the court of a living god-in-waiting, the glory of the present moment is more than enough to die for.
Order of battle
The Pretenders Host field the units of the Hedonites of Slaanesh, a detachment from the roster:
Other Hedonites of Slaanesh formations
Godseekers HostThe hunters of the hidden god, forever in motion. Godseeker cavalcades chase every rumour of Slaanesh's prison across the Mortal Realms at reckless, rapturous speed, treating each battle as one more mile of the only road that matters. Woe to whatever stands between them and their missing master.
Invaders HostThe unchained tide of the Hedonite hosts: warbands owing allegiance to no single master, led instead by a squabbling constellation of champions racing to outdo one another. An Invaders host descends upon a land like a festival that eats cities, and its internal rivalries only make it deadlier, for every conquest is also a performance staged for jealous peers.
Lurid Haze InvadersInvaders who arrive inside rolling banks of perfumed, narcotic fog, so that battle begins as a dream and ends as a rout. The Lurid Haze strike from quarters no army should be able to reach, their coming announced only by a sudden sweetness on the wind.
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