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.