There is something deeply wrong in the world. In every land, in every civilization, in the
depths of every mortal soul, this wrongness is felt in one way or another. For a lucky few, it
will never grow beyond a vague sense of unease, a lingering feeling that even in the warmth of a
midday sun, a presence lies in the shadows. For others, it will be a constant fear; a voice in
the back of their minds that screams and pleads to never tread into certain places and never focus
on certain thoughts. They might not fully grasp why these warnings must be followed, only that
something terrible awaits them should they fail. For some though, the dark malign cancer eating
away at the world and every mortal mind within it, is plainly visible. They see
it in the dirt of the earth, in the trees that grow from it, in
the wood that burns in a hearth, in the dancing shapes cast by the fire, and
in the eyes of all those gathered around it. A pure soul will instinctively recoil from this
corruption, or seek the means to stamp it out, but few souls within the mortal races are truly pure.
There will always be those in which the darkness takes root, festers and prevails. These are the
slaves of darkness, mortals dedicated to the worship of the Runious Powers and the destruction
of any who oppose them. Above any other titles they might once have had or now claim, they
bear the supreme epithet “Warrior of Chaos”. The study of the Ruinous Powers is a perilous
and upsetting endeavor, and no mortal scholar can truly understand the fickle and ever-shifting
hierarchy exhibited amongst their dark followers. Anyone corrupted by the Dark Gods
might be said to be a Warrior of Chaos, regardless of if they ever pick up a weapon or
not, for by whatever means they might employ, every servant of darkness is dedicated to the
hellish enslavement and ultimate extinction of mortal-kind. By the time of the
reign of Emperor Karl Franz however, the term “Warrior of Chaos” is mostly reserved
for the barbaric tribes of northern marauders that occupy the unforgiving borderlands
between realities surrounding the Chaos Wastes. Since the earliest migrations
of humans into the Old World, many tribes have eked out short and
brutal lives in the northern wastelands. The Tong, Norscans, Kurgan, and Hung represent
the four major peoples of the Northern Wastes, each separated into a great
many lesser tribes and clans. Though fundamentally the same as their southern
kin, they have been corrupted for millennia by the radiant energy of Chaos that
spills outwards from the northern pole. The influence of the Ruinous Powers has led to
widespread mutation and social stagnation amongst these tribes, leaving them as little more than
primitive savages. Accordingly, they are largely nomadic, unable to build any permanent settlements
or great works beyond the occasional shrine. They instead cling to whatever livable
patches of land might be found, before moving on when the dark energies
of Chaos flow stronger and force them out. Clans might bestow on their Chieftains titles
such as Jarl or Zar, but the Northmen have little concept of allegiance beyond the most primitive
expressions of blood or kinship. In lieu of any sense of nationality, a strict hierarchy guided
by the concept of strength dominates their limited social structures. Whatever the title, tribes
are invariably led by the most powerful warrior or sorcerer. The remaining warriors constitute an
exalted echelon within their society, with slaves and thralls forming the bottom rung, typically
expended as cheap labor, consorts, or sacrifices. Though a great diaspora of peoples and
cultures make up the Warriors of Chaos, they are universally bloodthirsty, ruthless
and cruel. War is their natural state, and they pursue it relentlessly. They battle
mostly amongst themselves, but occasionally unite against the Southern Realms whenever
the power of Chaos is ascendant. These latter gatherings are only possible through the will of
a great Champion who has convinced the tribes to put aside their petty rivalries and disputes.
To fight and perish within the armies of Chaos under the gaze of the gods is the ultimate honor
to the Northmen, and it is the ambition of every warrior to attract the attention of the Ruinous
Powers through deeds of slaughter and conquest. The worship of Chaos is the strongest unifying
force amongst the Northern tribes, often supplanting every other consideration. Typically
this worship is directed towards the entire Chaos pantheon rather than any single god, for in such
harsh lands, it is hardly practical to reject a divine gift or favor, no matter the source. It
is not unheard of however for certain tribes to devote themselves to a single deity, or even
to a particularly powerful demi-god or daemon. Fallen Chaos Champions, revered ancestors and
other lesser spirits might also be venerated, but ultimately, it is the Chaos Gods
to which the highest devotion is given. Khorne, the Blood God and Lord of Murder is
worshipped under a thousand different names across the North. His followers
are amongst the most numerous, for Khorne embodies courage, rage, strength
and hate - the most basic and brutal of sentient emotions. The precepts of Tzeentch, the
Raven God and the Changer of Ways, by contrast, can be difficult if not impossible for mortal
minds to understand. The worship of Tzeentch is limited mainly to shamans, sorcerers, and
other practitioners of the Dark Arts of Magic. But change, hope, destiny and lies, the
domain of the Raven God, are at the heart of any ascension to greatness, and Tzeentch has
many devotees whether they recognize it or not. Nurgle, the Plague Lord and God of Disease, Decay,
Destruction, Death and Rebirth, is perhaps the least worshiped in the northern wastes. He comes
to prominence amongst the tribes only during times of great sickness, but his gifts are amongst the
most powerful and everlasting. Slaanesh, the Dark Prince and God of Pleasure has likewise found
few followers in the North, for the northmen have little time for luxury and decadence and rarely
indulge themselves in their own desires. A great many other gods are worshiped in the north, and
while some are merely aspects of the great four, others might be separate entities, or other foul
things let loose upon the ancient mortal world. The worship and favor of the gods is a vital
and glorious part of the northern tribes. As these men cling so closely to the
perimeter of the Realm of Chaos itself, to them the Ruinous Powers are not abstract
concepts, but undeniable entities that mould the clay of human flesh and human minds into whatever
grotesque new shapes might please them. The Dark Gods of Chaos demand total and complete devotion
from their mortal followers, for the bloodshed and conflict unleashed in their names strengthens
their influence over the mortal realms. In return, the Ruinous Powers offer their greatest
champions dark blessings and signs of their favor. Though the risks are terrible, even the smallest
chance of gaining the attention of the gods cannot be ignored. A reward from Chaos, no
matter how trivial, is the first step down a path that can lead to immortality -
ultimate power or ultimate damnation. The gifts of the Ruinous Powers take many
forms and usually reflect the attitudes of the god that granted them. A warrior may be
imbued with terrible strength and fortitude, or their flesh might mutate, limbs changing
into gaping mouths or writhing tentacles. A practitioner of the arts of
magic might find their eyes opened, sometimes literally, to new possibilities, able
to see the world in a way others cannot fathom. Those less fortunate might be disfigured in an
instant, beset by a multitude of debilitating mutations. Even the greatest champions of the dark
gods have been known to devolve into repulsive, gibbering creatures known as Chaos Spawn
though whether this represents the punishment or whimsy of the gods is beyond mortal
understanding. Though repulsive, these former men are revered by the followers of
Chaos for every Northman believes it is better to know the most vile existence at the behest of
the gods, than to have never drawn their notice. The fiercest warriors amongst the Northmen,
those who show the greatest promise of earning the favor of Chaos, will be gifted a suit of
hell-forged armor by their respective chieftain. These are works of such quality well beyond their
own primitive smiths, instead crafted in the distant forges of Zharr-Naggrund or passed down
the generations until their true origins fade into legend. Within the hierarchy of the Northmen’s
armies, Chaos armor is a clear sign of rank and status, though these warriors have only just begun
their unholy quest. They hone their skills against the enemies of their tribe, or sometimes abandon
their kin to gather with similarly clad warriors, forming new warbands that prowl the wastes
seeking battle wherever it might come. Should a warrior of Chaos excel in this
arena, they will invariably feel the call to travel even further north and face
the judgements of the Gods themselves. They will undertake a dark pilgrimage, braving
the unnamed horrors of the Northern Wastes before entering the Realm of Chaos, a dimension of pure
magic and sorcery. Infinitely worse things dwell here, and any aspiring champion who arrives will
find themselves in a place of perpetual slaughter, a tangled landscape of insanity where the
Dark Gods reign supreme. Most who attempt to master this battlefield will die in the
attempt, though occasionally the Chaos Gods will acknowledge the strength and spirit of
a mortal, and mark him as their own. These are the Chosen, and while the gifts bestowed
on them vary greatly, all carry with them the supernatural power and terrible grace of the Dark
Gods, marking them as the true nobility of Chaos. The greatest mortal warriors of the
dark powers are known as Chaos Lords, warriors and Chosen transformed into engines of
mass destruction by the gifts of their patron god. They marshal to their warhosts not only the
northern tribes, but regiments of lesser Chaos Warriors lured by the promise of greater glories.
Yet every follower of Chaos is ultimately on a selfish quest for greater power, and champions
are constantly challenging their rivals, with the followers of the defeated incorporated into
the army of the victor. In this way the weakest Chaos warriors, Chosen and lords are routinely
culled, and the greater host made stronger. The ultimate gift of the Chaos Gods however
is demonhood, elevating a mortal follower into a purely magical entity and in the
process granting them true immortality. This moment of apotheosis is sought by
all those who walk the path of darkness, but only the most extraordinary
among them will ever achieve it. These Daemon Princes are beings of godlike power,
but forever bound to the will of their patron god. A particularly successful champion of Chaos will
find altogether stranger and more terrible things drawn to their presence. Mutated creatures,
either those born from the natural world, or abominations fused into being within the realm
of Chaos are a common sight within Chaos Armies. Most often these consist of giants and
warhounds and sometimes even Dragon Ogres, one of the most ancient races and among
the first to be wholly enslaved by Chaos. Demonic engines too might be harnessed,
sentient cannons that belch forth demonic fire, or mobile warshrines piled high
with corpses and other offerings. It is known that the Ruinous Powers originated
from a great calamity, when something glorious and wonderful died atop the world and
unleashed the Dark Gods in its death throes. While the influence of Chaos certainly predates
mankind and is felt across every species, it cannot be denied that humanity is
uniquely susceptible to its lures; the most eager to pursue the path of damnation.
It was from the corrupted tribes of the Northern Wastes that the Warriors of Chaos, as they are
known today, were truly born, and when the Dark Gods march against the world it is always these
northmen that form the foundation of their armies. The Dark Gods value their mortal followers
above all others, for it is the ambitions and souls of free-willed creatures that the
Ruinous Powers engorge themselves upon. It is for this reason, that the ultimate champion
of Chaos, one gifted with the blessings of each of the four gods, is always drawn from
amongst the warriors of the Northern Wastes. These are the Everchosen, and twelve times
they have marshaled the armies of the northmen marauders and led them south to bring ruin and
glory. Twelve times they have been struck down by the mortal nations they sought to conquer,
but now, the 13th Everchosen has been crowned. A three eyed king stirs atop his dark throne,
and the powers and treasures at his command are enough to eclipse even the
greatest of his predecessors. He is equal parts Norscan warlord and
fallen priest, a man of darkness and ruin. Doom to his enemies, doom to every people and
all the gods invested in them. For when Archaron, Lord of the End Times rides unto the world, the
world will know that the last war has begun.
