:

Training/Experience: 9-10
Mobility: 7 10 (Shapeshifting horse)
Max & Effective Range: Spell
Preferred Range: Melee
Role: Commander in Chief
And doom came decked in the flesh of man,
Death to all he didst devise,
No infernal could against him stand,
Twas thunder under brimstone skies.
Daemonsong
Roughly 600 years prior to the present timeline the birth of Archaon, the bringer of the Apocalypse, the
Lord of the End Times, was prophesized by the mad monk Necromundo in his predictions of the doom
of the world. When he heard of these prophecies, Belakor the Dark Master, recognizing their import,
capitalized on the prediction and the book to determine exactly when and where Archaon would be
born.
130 years ago a boy was born to a poor fisherman family who had recently suffered great hardship. The
wife had been raped nine months prior by a nameless chaos warrior who was possessed by Belakor.
So draining and terrible was the birth that the mother was killed in the effort and the horrified family
abandoned the child to a midwife, who in turn abandoned it by a Sigmarite shrine.
Archaon was taken in by the local priest Dagobert and swiftly rose to become a Templar; a holy knight
of Sigmar, named Diederick Kastner. Many times he nearly died during this period, only to be
continually saved by Belakor's swift and unseen magical intervention. When the boy ran afoul of a
Nurglite plague known for its extreme lethality he miraculously recovered; when his brains were
bashed against a stable foundation by a panicking horse he got back the next day, good as new. His zeal
and faith impressive by all standards, Kastner soon saw promotion from a humble squire to the full
status of Templar. He seemed destined to live a fulfilling life in the God-Kings name. Yet events would
conspire to nip this dream in the bud.

One day he and his apprentice, Emil were out on patrol when they came across a Beastman den that
held a number of human captives. Immediately the two attacked, taking on dozens of beasts by
themselves including a shaman and a doombull. Ultimately the whole camp was wiped out, however
Kastner was infected by warpstone, Emil grievously wounded and only one survivor, a human priestess
named Giselle, emerged from the carnage. Even as the warpstone caused Kastner sthoughts to twist

(though barely, as Diederick was extremely strong of mind) the girl(Giselle) revealed that she was the
last of an order of priestesses charged with the protection of a sacred artifact: Necromundos The Liber
Caelestior.
Dutifully he turned the prophecy in to his superiors, who responded by sending a death squad. A battle
raged as the squad of elite knights tried to kill Kastner and his companions however in the end Archaon
was saved by the unlikeliest of sources: six winged Knights of Chaos. Distraught that his great enemy
had come to his aid, along with revelations contained in the book that seemed to point to him being
Archaon- the prophesized name of the Herald of the End Times- Kastner initially attempted suicidefoiled hereby Belakor, again unknowingly- before infiltrating the main Sigmarite temple in Altdorf.
There he sought out the Grand Theologonist, both to demand an explanation and look for the missing
page from the book, which would be used to prove or disprove his guilt. Stopping to pray Kastner at first
pleaded with his god to save him from this
situation. When he was only greeted with
silence Diederick then fell to wrath cursing
Sigmar with all his vitriol and hate, egged on- for
the first time directly, unseen still but not
unheard- by Belakor.
A bloodbath erupted. The Grand Theologonist
confirmed that he was Archaon, the chosen
Herald of the Apocalypse, on the basis that the
prophecy had written that only the true Final
Everchosen would actually come to the head
Sigmar temple for answers (the death squad was
just playing it safe). Now acknowledging his destiny and true name Archaon fought through small
hordes of knights, defeating them all. Honored champions fell in a few moves of deft swordplay while
squires and footmen barely even registered before they were cut down. Massive cannons were brought
forward to end him however then the team of elite flying Chaos Warriors flew in to steal him away.
After this incident Archaon fled to the Chaos Wastes with Giselle (forced along), Dagobert (who
erroneously believed the boy he loved could be saved) and Ghorst, a flagellant that followed him around
everywhere.
I am more than man. I am mine enemys failure incarnate. I am the morrow. I am the worlds end to
come. Hear me, Dark Gods: warn your warriors, your doomed champions, corpses-in-waiting. You tell
them Archaon is coming and the inevitability of their death is coming with me.- Archaon: Everchosen
They fled north, dodging or killing Imperial patrols or hunting Witch Hunters until they got to the Chaos
Wastes. There Archaon shifted tactics, killing pretender Everchosens and marauding warbands of Chaos
Warriors until he could escape far enough north. Yet he was cunning, allowing a few worthy enough to
join his cause to make the foundations of an army. At another point he eluded the last of the most
persistent of the Witch Hunters by pretending to be an ordinary marauder, getting captured, and then

leading the Hunters (who did not believe he was Archaon) into the force of another Chaos warband.
His force swooped in to finish off the remains of both.
Archaon was in the Chaos Wastes for years, perhaps decades. Dedicating most of his time to exploring
and fighting he forced Dagobert- now as much a slave as father figure- to meticulously translate The
Liber Caelestior , even as he forced Giselle to remain a reluctant slave. According to what was written
the final Everchosen would have to achieve six great treasures of Chaos before he could truly assume
the title. Eventually, it was determined that they needed to assault an ancient Druichi city that had since
been corrupted and infested by evil.
After gaining an army, his first task had him fighting a huge army of Dark Elves alongside a rival Chaos
Khorne claimant. It was a vicious battle in which quickly delved into a three-way contest. Eventually
Archaon used his servants sorcery to melt an iceberg to create a giant flood, and then through
slaughter and offering of an assassin's heart attracted Khorne's consort, Valkia (which won over many
Khornates, for Valkia is well-regarded by her followers). Valkia then destroyed a Dark Elf sorcereress
and helped rout the rest of the Druichi force.
Now Archaon personally entered the Altar of Ultimate Darkness, battling hundreds of mutated horrors
of the deep (giant squids, giant crustaceans, sharks ect) .

The steed did not need much persuading to leave the warlord. Its skittish sense told it what Archaon
already knew. That starved beasts from throughout the subterranean realm had been drawn down on
him led to their doom by his fresh stench. Archaon made it easy for them. Clashing Terminus against
his shield, he roared his dares into the darkness. Then he saw them. Crawling. Slithering. Skittering their
way towards him. Monstrosities of the deep of every shape and size. The only similarity they shared was
the growl of their bellies.
Come on, you wretched things, Archaon hissed through the gloom. Hungry? Come get some.
The killing began. Chitinous nightmares migrated across the cavern roofs, withdrawing into their shells
before dropping like cannonballs against the Chaos warriors upheld shield. Twitching shrimp swarms
clicked about him in the darkness, trying to get through his armour and burrow into his flesh. Giant,
malformed crustaceans erupted from tight grottos all spine and pincer aiming to cut the dark templar
in two. Lakes disappeared to reveal tentacular behemoths that glissaded across the cavern floor on their
own slime, coming at the knight with glutinous feelers and blasting him with jets of stinking water
streaming from blowholes in their octopod flesh. Coiled serpents launched at him, their trapjaw maws a
pit of teeth framed with leathery frills that opened as they struck. Beasts that seemed all gulping mouth
and stomach attempted to swallow him whole. Things that draped feathery tendrils about him from
above burned both armour and flesh. Scaly monsters with shovel-shaped heads and clamping jaws that
attempted to drag the Chaos warrior into their cave lairs. Archaon: Everchosen

Though his favored horse was slain the Everchosen continued on, defeating next the corrupted
remnants of the Druichi crew. At long last he received the first blessing, which boosted his power and
gave him every single Mark of Chaos at once. The Everchosen than left Naggaroth (Dark Elven
homeland) in this stolen ark. For years he was a great pirate of the Great Eastern Ocean, earning the
personal ire of the emperors of both Nippon and Cathay, raiding numerous tropical islands,
plundering Khuresh, sacking coastal Ind towns, fighting off concentrated Clan Eshin assassination
attempts, repelling Druichi raiders and more . Around this time he started a romance with the
Sigmarite Priestess Giselle, though it was based on hatred as much as love. However, at this juncture,
Archaon was not used to the betrayal mechanics of Chaos and so was betrayed .by every single major
underling at once.
After dying to his Druichi second in command and being once again brought back by a mysterious
Tzeentchi sorceror named Sheerian(think old version of Shang Tsung look-alike), he had great vengeance
on his underlings (who all fought against one another) before nearly being consumed by an enormous
Asiatic dragon that was sent by Tzeentch (he is fickle!).Dagobert was mutated into a Chaos spawn
while the great ark was blown up, leaving Archaon adrift at the sea.
Archaon, having lost all but his most dedicated bodyguards, fled to the South Pole where the massive
dragon followed. Fighting through the terrible daemons and Beastmen of that realm, still hunted by that
dragon, he encountered and defeated the possessed spirit of Morkar, the first Everchosen, at that shrine
that housed his body. Then he seized his armor, the second of the artifacts of chaos. Finally the
Everchosen turned upon the dragon and carved him up from the inside, gaining the magical Eye of
Sheerian (the third magical artifact) and forcing its former owner into servitude. In this moment he
finally became aware of the nature of Be'lakor through seeing with this magical artifact, and vowed
that none would control him. An army of beasts was gathered and together they all went south.
Archaon resolved to confront the Daemon Prince. After searching long and using his mage to detect
where Belakors Forsaken Fortress (a moving sub-realm) was, he finally found.an exact repetition of
it. Created by the Tzeentchi Changeling. However his mage Sheerian had already seen through the
Tzeentchi Daemons ruse, and Archaon quickly overpowered him to ask for the real Belakors
position, which the Changeling hastily gave. However, according to the Changeling, the fortress shifted
and turned too fast for it to be caught on foot, and for that reason he would have to find a faster steed.
Next he stole a legendary Steed of the Apocalypse from a mighty Daemon Lord renowned for his
bestiary. He did so by stealthily infiltrating the Daemon Lords realm, which contained innumerable
other beasts, and then creating a giant beast prisoner escape as a distraction to steal Dorghar, the
legendary Steed of the Apocalypse. Though the battle was brutal eventually Archaon broke the beast's
will to his own. Using the supernatural speed of the steed, he traveled North to confront the real
Belakor, who viewed the Everchosen as nothing more than a pawn, albeit one he did not want to
sacrifice just yet. Archaon refused to go along with the First-Damneds wishes and battle commenced.
Is that why you are here, mortal? To whine, carp and plead.

You know why Im here, daemon-filth, Archaon told it. Lets not play childish games. I have travelled far
and found he who would not be found.
You are here for answers
We will leave guesswork to idle philosophers, Archaon said. I would know what you would have with
me, creature. From your own faithless lips. Or I shall cut the truth out of your infernal carcass.
Answers?
Speak daemon, while you still can, Archaon warned.
You have the very world on its knees before you and you came to find me for answers?
Archaon felt the bottomless depths of the creatures scorn. Its mockery burned to hear.
Are you going deaf? Archaon shot back. My demands have not changed since the last time I asked. Yes,
monster answers. To questions. I ask a question and you answer it. Thats how this works. Dont make
me ask you again.
What I would have with you? Belakor seethed. I would have you realize your destiny my son-inshadow.
Archaon bit at his bottom lip. The sound of his daemonic father admitting as much was like icewater in
his ears.
And who does my destiny serve? Archaon asked.
We all serve those greater than ourselves.
Belakor, Archaon hissed. Daemon prince. Dark Master. Some say you are the crown-bearer of the
Chaos gods. Nothing more than a slave. Others that you serve only yourself and your insatiable
ambition.
A mere pastime, Belakor said. Some embroider. Some whittle. I craft the future in flesh and blood.
Who does your destiny serve? It serves me, you miserable cur. You are a doll with which to be played
and left abandoned on the floor. You are the piece of the game taken and placed to one side of the
board. You are a living afterthought, Archaon of the North like all my servants. Nothing more.
And yet here I am, Archaon rumbled back. Im not on the floor. Im here, where neither man nor
daemon thought I would be. I stand before the lowly Belakor dung stain of the gods in the armor of
the Everchosen, carried here on the Steed of the Apocalypse, bearing the treasures of Chaos and the ever
burning Mark of the Ruinous Powers in my flesh.
You think you are the first to bear such dark honours? Belakor asked, the question like a scorpions
sting. You are a nothing. Born of nothing. The hollow fruit of an empty womb. All that you are I put in
there. But think not that I afford you any affection for that. My half-breeds roam the world.

Thousands more serve me not in flesh but in deed. They carry my mark. They live for my favour. They
know their place. They do not carp and question. They serve the darkness of this world through the
darkness they find in themselves. They serve their father-in-shadow the darkness that is Belakor,
you worthless wretch. As you should.
And yet I am not without worth, it seems, Archaon told the abomination. I am the dark hope of the
Ruinous Gods. The same gods that laugh at you, my father-in-shadow, and scorn your wretched efforts.
Belakor the Bearer. Slave to circumstance. Doomed to carry crowns but not to wear them. Doomed to
choose but not be chosen. Granted eternity but denied form. You call me a nothing. You call me
worthless. You are a prince without a kingdom to inherit. Nothing could be more worthless than that.
()
The duel between the two was terrible and legendary, with both sides dealing terrible wounds on the
other, however for the first time in his life Archaon outmatched. Belakor killed Archaon three times
in the duel yet kept bringing him back (for the Daemon Prince viewed Archaon as an investment that he
could not afford to put down), demanding fealty, and then get told to sod off by the Chaos Champion
who just went back to fighting. Frustrated that Archaon refused to be a pawn, kept fighting and
wouldnt leave, Belakor finally pretty much forcibly kicked him off his lair and teleported the whole
realm elsewhere. His parting piece of advice was to use the Southern Warpgate to travel to the
Northern Warpgate, where the quest for the next item would begin.
To do so Archaon returned to the lair of the Daemon Lord, only to discover that his followers had been
kidnapped by it. Furious, the Chaos Warrior charged in with his army and, with the Daemon Lords own
followers already weakened by putting down the insurrections of rebelling zoo animals, bashed into the
Lords central fortress. There he rescued his followers and put down the lord.
His next task was to march to the Southern gate in order to cross the realm of chaos to the northern
one. To do so he had to fight across countless daemonic fiefdoms that sat right on the gates base.
Some of these he simply broke through, putting them to flame altogether. Others he dealt with in a
cunning fashion, like the Bloodthirster who he locked in his own brass fortress, chuckling as the
daemons own rage burned it down around him. Some he had to avoid entirely, like an unassailable
shifting fortress of Tzeentch or the putrid swamplands of a gleeful Great Unclean One.
Finally Archaon arrived at the Great Southern gate and, despite the reluctance of his sorcerer or even
army to go into it, led the charge through the boundary of reality. There he was barraged by sensation
and emotion beyond imagining, had his sanity ruthlessly tested, and was stalked relentlessly. Only the
gaze of the Chaos gods themselves kept the daemons off his forces but they did not provide a means to
escape. Eventually a pact was made with a Bloodthirster, an agreement to free the Daemon Uzhul
from his sword prison in exchange for being directed to the northern gate.
With every step he took towards a doom of his own making, he became less of a man and more of an
idea. An abstraction. A living misery for others to endure. He was not some character in a great tale told.

He was the silence after the words. The covers of the tome slammed shut. The crackle of page and ink on
the fire. He was the nevermore.- Archaon: Lord of Chaos
Next Archaon set his sights on the sword, traveling with his army once more through the Chaos Wastes
and unifying large portions of it by force. Around the way he encountered increasing numbers of
Belakors champions, proof that the First-Damned was preparing for his eventual demise. Cautious
now Archaon approached the rumored location of the great sword Slayer of Kings, a mountain with a
curious amount of weapons buried in it. It was only after scaling the mountain fully that Archaon
realized he wasnt on top of the mountain but rather Karanok, the first and mightiest of the Dragon
Ogres.
He recovered the sword and Uzhul demanded his release. Archaon informed the Daemon that he would
fulfill his part of the contracteventually. Enraged the sword began to scream, threatening to awaken
the mighty Dragon Ogre overlord. Desperate and having just moments before realized his second in
command, Prince Ograx, was in league with Belakor Archaon jammed the sword through the mans
stomach, satisfying the swords quenching thirst for the blood of royalty. For now at least.
The next item, the Crown of Domination, took longer than any other item to find. For decades Archaon
hunted, frustrated, across the world. One again he ravaged the Orient, sacking cities of Ind, Nippon
and Cathay. He even engaged in a massive, inconclusive battle with the full Cathayan fleet, prevented
from full victory only by the potency of their turtle ships (even then the Cathayans retreated). He sacked
Sartosa, savaged the shore of Araby and Estalia, burned High Elven fleets sent to stop him and
besieged the Dwarven sea kingdom of Barak Varr.
Finally, he was approached by the Tzeentchi sorcerer Vilitch, who offered its location in exchange for
the sacking of a Brettonian castle. Though suspicious, Archaon agreed and had his army help destroy the
Bretonnian baron of that realm only to be betrayed (see Vilitch profile). Despite knowing the betrayal
was going to occur it was a vicious battle that tested the limits of the would-be Everchosen . Archaon
survived, and forced the sorcerer to reveal the location. Chuckling, Villitch said one name: Belakor and
then teleported away before Archaon could slay him.
After finding an ancient shrine, Archaon conducted a ritual to summon the great Daemon Prince. It is
unknown full what was said between the two, the new Everchosen and the being who sought the
position more than any other, only that Archaon managed to impose his independence and Be'lakor,
forced by the Dark Gods themselves, to reveal its location. Archaon traveled to the first Chaos Shrine
ever constructed in the world, where the First Man had bargained himself to Chaos. There he fought
elements of every God.
Archaon fought against embodiments of Nurgles choicest plagues, overcoming torrents of wracking
disease with the blunt force of his will. He negotiated Tzeentchs multi-dimensional mazes of crystal,
which would have trapped him for eternity had he not blindfolded himself and trusted to instinct
alone. Temptation of every sort was paraded before Archaon by Slaanesh, but he refused the lures
and marched stolidly onwards. Khorne sent a bloodthirster at him on a narrow causeway where
Archaon could barely maneuver. After a grueling battle, Archaon bludgeoned and then strangled it to

death with its own whip. Finally the Dark God's approval was given, and the Crown of Domination
rewarded.
Archaon was then crowned "Everchosen" by an extremely jealous Be'lekor, becoming the latest and last
Everchosen. At last it seemed that Archaon had achieved an immense measure of success.
Still think I can be saved? he said, his words a whisper and his humor dark.
Giselle leaned in, holding her fragile form close to the Everchosens armoured form. He was like a
monstrous statue hewn of apocalyptic promise, while she was a deathly echo of the past, so slight and
wasted that the rising wind itself would have felled her. The storms that accompanied Archaon
everywhere crashed thunder through the skies. Giselle brought her head up next to his, as if to whisper
something into the side of his helm.
Save you? the girl eternal hissed. Who do you think damned you in the first place?
After everything that Archaon had seen, all the horror he had experienced, he didnt think it was possible
to be shocked. The girls voice a rasping, suggestive shadow of what it had been sent a bolt of
lightning through the emptiness of the Everchosens dark heart. Grabbing her by the furs that sat on her
sharp shoulders, Archaon pushed Giselle away. The girls eyes had bleached to an oblivion of blackness
and a wretched mouth had stretched itself through the stringy flesh beneath her nose.
No, was all the Everchosen could manage.
Excruciating pain once more cut through his side. Looking down, Archaon could see that Giselle had
stabbed him. Blinking the shock from his mind, he recognised the dagger. It was a savage thing, both
blade and hilt crafted beautifully from the claw of a daemon. Belakors claw. The claw Archaon had
chopped from the Dark Masters hand and claimed for his own. Giselle had taken it from him and been
busy in her starvation and infirmity. She had slipped it straight through the hole where the shard of
sword had punctured the plate. Straight into the agonizing sheath created by the old wound.
However just as he was about to command the army that would drown the world in blood, he was
betrayed by Giselle, who was revealed to be possessed by Belakor all along! The battle was brutal, for
this time Belakor held nothing back; however Archaon was now a fully realized Everchosen.
Towering above Archaon, the Dark Master was still the monstrous, elemental force, swinging his blade
with ancient skill and the power of oblivion. Archaon no longer moved through the split-second evasions
and desperate attacks that had been his only defence in the Forsaken Fortress. Archaon fought not like a
fathers son or a masters puppet. He was the Everchosen of Chaos. The world quaked beneath his boots.
Archaon fought like he had never fought before. Everything he had ever learned. Every success. Every
failure. It all fell into place as the Everchosen expertly turned Belakors blade aside swinging, stabbing,
cleaving, back-slashing and smashing his way across the side of the mountain.
As the titanic battle raged up the Dreadpeak, dislodging tumbling boulders and cleaving away entire
shelves of cursed rock, thunder shook the heavens. Lightning slashed at the rock about the pair and

Archaons horde moved up through the valleys to watch them champions ordering those warriors
willing to assist their warlord back to the Ruinous ranks. For Archaon there were no more monstrous
lunges, only to cut through the sizzling shadow of Belakors insubstantial form. The Eye revealed
strategies to the Everchosen moments ahead of time, prompting Archaon to abandon such futile attacks
in favour of those with a greater chance of success. The Dark Master felt the change in his shadow-son
immediately. Tested by the Dark Gods and awarded the boon of their powerful gifts, Archaon as mortal
champion was a match for the daemon prince much to Belakors fury.
The huge daemon wheeled about, his tail and wings angling furiously to aid balance while at the same
time tearing through the air as weapons of their own. Archaon leapt the monsters slashing tail while
jumping between rocks and smashing down through the defensive presentation of the solidified sword of
shadow. Archaon passed the streaming glow of the daemon weapon about him and from hand to hand,
slashing aside the daemon princes furious attacks and cutting nicks in the membrane of his great wings.

()
The Everchosen of Chaos limped away, staggering from one boulder to another. All the Eye of Sheerian
could show Archaon was what Belakor might do. The Dark Master was so insane with infernal fury and
mindless vengeance that even he didnt know what he was going to do. The ground trembled beneath
Belakors step. He seized Archaon around his armoured neck and slammed the dark warlord into the
rockface. He smashed him again and leaned in. Archaon could feel the claws of the daemon prince buckle
the cursed plate about his bruised neck. Belakor was going to crush his throat. Archaon smelled the rank
sulphur of the abominations breath.
I shall wear the crown. I shall be Everchosen of the Chaos gods and stand once more in the warmth of
their destructive radiance and favour. None shall stop me. No god. No daemon. Not you.
Archaon felt the vice of the daemon princes claws close about his throat and the hell-forged plate give.
He knew he had but seconds left. Scratching at the punctured plate at his side, Archaon got a trembling
gauntlet around the hilt of the claw-crafted dagger. His eye rolled over, white with the agonising pain of
its withdrawal. He felt the blades darkness cut through not only his butchered flesh but also his
pantheon-pledged soul. His eye rolled back as the crooks and curves of the wicked blade were freed.
For you are nothing. Nothing begotten of nothing and to nothing you return. You are a footnote in the
history of a world destined to burn. Yours was my story to tell and I choose to end it now.
Im your son Archaon hissed through his father-in-shadows murderous embrace.
You think that will stop me?
Archaon looked for the Ruinous Star burned across the Dark Masters broad chest. He looked for the
chink in the daemons armoured hide. The cleft Archaon had found in the Forsaken Fortress. The mark of
a piercing blade thrust by one of the Dark Masters many foes that had yet to complete its journey.

You dont have the heart

Archaon brought up the dagger and with a single, merciless stab, hammered the claw blade into
Belakors chest. A monstrous gasp escaped the daemon. The Everchosen fell down the rockface and
crumpled as the Dark Master released him. Stumbling away through the boulders and debris, Belakor
clawed at his punctured heart and the pumping ichor that gushed from his ruined chest. The abominates
cloven claws suddenly seemed no longer to support him and the beast crashed to the ground in a
growing pool of his own steaming darkness. Archaon watched as his father-in-darkness the twisted
daemon prince who had for so long been the source of dread, woe and affliction in his life died before
him. In his final moments of panic, the Dark Master reached out for Archaon, the claw of one hand a
pleading emissary of doom. He shimmered with crackling shadow, unnatural energies arcing and sizzling
about the daemon. In a last ditch attempt to survive the horror of the wound Archaon had inflicted upon
him, Belakor was phasing between forms. Between the insubstance of shadow and the last moments of
a fell, ichor-coughing existence. Archaon grunted with dark satisfaction. Being crafted from a part of the
daemon prince itself, the dagger-claw was doing the same, making it impossible for Belakor to escape
his doom, as he might a sword swung through the sizzling shadow of his form.
As the pool of liquid darkness grew and Belakor sank into his own daemonic gore, the Dark Master
steamed away. His clutching claw scraped along the rock with final defiance before slipping back into the
obsidian pool. Archaon watched the darkness drain down through the valley floor. Looking up he saw the
distant blaze of torches as his monstrous army poured into the valley. The immense moons of Mannslieb
and Morrslieb were setting over the Worlds Edge Mountains. Above them the twin-tailed comet that was
herald of the doom Archaon was yet to bring blazed across the sky.
Archaon limped through the draining darkness of his fathers grave and with difficulty picked up the
Slayer of Kings. Slipping the daemonsword into his scabbard, Archaon stared back at the spot where
Belakor had died. The word seemed to ill fit the daemon princes fate, for the Everchosen knew that he
had simply banished the enormous being the bane of his existence back to the Realm of Chaos from
which he had sprung. Every smashed and aching bone in Archaons body told him that Belakor would be
back. He would return as he had many times before to plague the world and the enemies that walked it.
Ill ensure that there will be no world to return to Archaon told the steaming grave. He looked up into
the dark depths of the heavens. Thunder rolled in the distance. He knew that the Dark Gods were
watching. They would not have missed Belakors failure the daemons delicious demise for the world.
You hear me? Archaon roared up at the sky, his threat intended for the fell gods whose soul-devouring
existence depended upon the world and its mortal plague as much as the daemon prince they had made
an eternity of tormenting. Only ash and darkness. An oblivion in which to starve. Choke on it, you
monsters-Archaon: Lord of Chaos
Though the fight lasted the majority of the day ultimately Archaon just managed to prevail, fighting off
near death and a possession attempt to do so. As a final act he beheaded Ghorst, the silent flaggelant
who served as the last remainder of his past life (and who had followed him everywhere in the
interlude) right on the border of the Empire.

At last unified behind his will (mostly), Archaon directed the legions of Chaos onwards onto the
civilized realms. They answered his call in truly awesome numbers that had never been seen before. In
fact the Wastes probably completely emptied themselves of inhabitants in the process. To Cathay to Ind
to Kislev they came in numbers truly unprecedented. Everywhere they met success as those forces
arrayed against them, already weakened by a myriad of minor threats, chaos subvertion in the form of
cults, and disunity, were hard pressed to stand against him. In Cathay the Great Bastion was broken
with the help of Chaos Dwarfs, while in Ind armies led by Arbaal the Undefeated stormed the northern
cities even as the pleasure cults of the south rose in revolt. Kislev was utterly destroyed in a single
campaign by the vanguard of a vanguard force (that still probably numbered in hundreds of thousands
at least). Simultaneously as Chaos targeted the strongest human realms the Skaven rose to consume the
weakest.
Though likely playing a small hand in campaigns elsewhere, Archaon devoted most of his time to
planning the campaign against the Empire, for reasons both personal and strategic. Personal reasons
are obvious by his biography for it was his birth country and he hated it and its gods (Sigmar especially)
with a passion that exceeded any other loathing save possibly that of Belakor. Strategically it was one of
the strongest of the human realms and had resisted innumerable Chaos thrusts before. It also often
managed to ally with the Dwarf and High Elven races, serving as glue that could, in theory, bind those
dissipate races together. Of all the threats arrayed against him across the world Archaon alone
considered this potential alliance to have the possibility of defeating his force entirely, and because of
that sought to break up the glue.
Archaon sent in the Glottkin with an army of millions, giving them Nurglite artifacts to aid them in their
task. They, along with accompanied warlords, would attack the Empire from three directions and strive
to spread disease, take out major cities, and make the land itself hostile to human life. This would
have the benefit of weakening the Empire before Archaons main thrust to annihilate it all together. If
the Glottkin were too successful he would launch his assault early.
The Glottkin failed to take the main capital Altdorf but, as Archaon had foreseen, still managed
incredible success. Almost of the population of the Empire died during the period of Glott invasion
from a combination of super-plagues, an explosion of Beastmen, the Chaos armies themselves and a
deeply hostile landscape. Furthermore the Empires gods themselves exhausted much of their power
in trying to save the realm.
Now eager to finish off his enemy Archaon led a Chaos host larger than any yet seen. After creating an
opportunistic alliance with the Skaven, Archaon set his sights on Middenheim, the key to his plans to
destroy not just the Empire, but the world itself. Using the ratmen to sap defenses from beneath and
the Pink Horrors of Tzeentch to transform the Eastern Gate into a pile of mutated flesh, Archaon broke

his way into the city. The Empire fought back bitterly at every turn, its soldiers motivated by
desperation and heroic commanders alike.
Finally Archaon and his horde fought a pitched battle in the heart of Middenheim against the last of the
defenders and the Sigmarite champion Valtern. Archaon sought out the Herald of Sigmar and dueled
him as the battle reached its climax. Fighting evenly, it was unclear who would win . However there
were others forces at work here and one of them decided to take a very direct hand. Unknown to both
fighters a Verminlord silently teleported into combat and, when Valtern was distracted, assassinated the
herald of Sigmar even as Archaon screamed at rage at his triumph denied. As a result of this event
Archaons hatred of the Skaven, already existent on principle, only intensified.
Nevertheless Archaon had achieved his final goal, though only he and the Chaos gods were aware of it.
For beneath Middenhiem was an artifact of immense power, a weapon created by the most ancient
race that could destroy the world.
With the Empire by now limited mostly to the Southern portion- dominated by the new capital of
Averheim- Archaon could have simply dug in, activated the weapon and be done with the whole affair.
Yet he wouldnt and couldnt. He hated the Empire with a burning passion and needed to prove once
and for all his superiority, that its gods were lies and myths.
First he sent his treacherous minion Villitch down south to both weaken the Empire and Villitch himself
(who doubtless planned another betrayal). Then, recognizing the possibility of Tzeentchi forces
betraying him randomly (as they are often do) he surprised the daemon Kalros Fateweaver and swiftly
sacrificed him to Khorne, using it to summon what was perhaps the most powerful of Khornes
bloodthirsters, Kabhanda.
Together they unified the Skaramor and marched southwards to take over the siege from Villitchs
hands. When they arrived they discovered the Tzeentch force had been all but routed, the Skaven driven
off. This bothered Archaon not; it just saved him the trouble actually. In one swift assault Archaon
swept in and swarmed over the city with vastly superior numbers, taking massive causalities but
nevertheless succeeding in capturing it. The Emperor had his incarnate power taken from him in a
direct duel via Archaons sorcerous knowledge provided by the Eye of Sheerian, though the Emperor
and a small force was able to escape thanks to the heroic intervention of Gelt, Ungrims last stand, and
some of the greatest remaining heroes of the Empire sacrificing themselves.
Though upset that the Emperor had escaped his clutches, Archaon was content to set KaBhanda on his
trail. He himself marched back to Middenheim, leading the Chaos forces there and the Skaven in
excavating the artifact. Sometimes he would have to put down, or have his minions put down, ambitious
underlings. Other than that he hardly stirred from the depths of Middenheim and indeed what need was
there too? All realms of men were by now either overrun or nearly so, the few remaining Dwarf realms
not conquered by the Skaven shut, Lustria annihilated, Sylvannias power shattered as a result of
Nurgles schemes and Athel Loren, last bastion of order, beleaguered by an endless tide of Chaos. Only
the Beast WAAGH (orcs, goblins & ogres) under Grimgor was a remaining threat yet still that was far to
the East, and Archaon was confident he could handle them in time, if necessary.

It probably wouldnt have surprised Archaon to find out that it was Belakor- captured by the now
unified incarnates- who betrayed his plan to the last and most mighty non Chaos figures of the world.
Yet he was probably somewhat surprised to discover that Teclis-greatest of the Elven wizards-pulled off
a truly unprecedented teleportation, boosted from power of the goddess Lileaths sacrifice- that
dropped the incarnates (Elves, Men, Dwarfs and Undead) along with a portion of the Beast WAAGH right
inside the gates of Middenheim. Though Teclis himself was swiftly captured by Archaon the rest arrived
in force.
However if he was surprised he certainly was not worried. The storms of magic had swept up forces of
Chaos too, like Sigvald the Magnifient and the rampaging horde of KaBhanda. In addition Archaon
quickly sensed that not all of the incarnates were fully united, and sent the Skaven to instill conflict
between the Elves and the Beast WAAGH. Other champions were sent after one foe or another though
by now Archaon was scarcely paying attention. Whether his champions lived or died hardly mattered
just so long as they bought time as he retreated to personally ensure the bomb was activated.

Eventually the incarnates fought past his lieutenants, though not without severe losses. United for the
first time in history common desire what tiny fragments remained of the Elf, Undead, Empire and Orc
forces journeyed into the depths beneath Middenheim. Joined by Daemon champions of all 4 gods
Archaon and his elite bodyguards, the Swords of Chaos, fought one last battle at the very jaws of
oblivion. For behind them the artifact was activated; a warp rift that swiftly expanded ever more.
Archaon went for the Emperor but was stopped by the Boss of Da East and Incarnate of the Beasts,
Grimgor Ironhide. Though the Everchosen initially dismissed the Orc Warboss as a nuisance Grimgor
could not be denied, and swiftly proved through skill to be more than a threat for the Everchosen. In a
surprise move he even broke the Eye of Sheerian with a devastating head-butt. In desperation, for
Archaon could not imagine a more humiliating end than being beaten by an Orc, he unleashed the
daemon Uzhul from the Slayer of Kings, giving the Everchosen a sudden and immediate burst of power
(but, in the long run, losing a power up). Grimgors head was swiftly cleaved from his head.
It was then that the Everchosen met the Emperor- who he still believed was Karl Franz- one last time.
Archaon, he roared. Face me, Destroyer.
Chaos knights hurriedly interposed themselves, and died beneath Deathclaws talons. Sigmar smashed
Ghal Maraz down on upraised shields and shattered thrusting swords. Axes and swords hacked into the
griffons limbs and flanks, and its shrieks of pain and rage filled Sigmars ears, but he could not afford to
retreat, not now, and never again. He caught sight of elves and zombies to either side of him, fighting
against the daemons that sought to envelop his desperate spearhead. He heard the crackle of magics,
and saw screeching daemons evaporate as they swooped towards him.
Deathclaw gave a great shudder and lunged with a heart-wrenching cry, to slam into a rearing steed.
Sigmar was flung from the saddle, as was the rider of the horse, and as he rose to his feet, he saw that
he was face to face with Archaon.

Sparks flew as Ghal Maraz smashed against the Slayer of Kings. Lightning rippled along the hammers
rune-etched head, vying with the dark fire that swirled about the Everchosens daemon-blade. Nearby,
Deathclaw and Archaons steed fought savagely, and the rocky ground was splattered with blood and
ichor as the two animals clawed and bit one another. I beat you once, follower of lies, Archaon roared,
thrusting out a hand. I ripped your lightning from you, and shattered your last redoubt, and I will do it
again
Sigmar grinned fiercely as nothing happened. Blood streaked his face and beard, but he felt no
weakness. Not now. He batted Archaons hand aside and slammed Ghal Maraz down on the
Everchosens pauldron, knocking him back. Well? What are you waiting for? he said. He thrust the
hammer forwards like a spear and caught Archaon in the chest. Take my lightning, Everchosen.
Archaon staggered back. I what?
Sigmar tapped his own brow. Were on an equal footing now, boy. Just me and you. He swung the
hammer again, and Archaon barely parried it. Each punishing blow bled into the one that followed and
Sigmar pushed his opponent back, until Archaon slashed at him, gouging his armour and cutting the flesh
beneath. Behind him, the warp-artefact gave another blinding pulse, and the cracks in its surface grew
wider. He heard Deathclaw utter a shrill cry, and saw the griffon fall, tangled with Archaons mount in its
death-throes. The latter gave voice to a final whinny before Deathclaws talons tore out its throat, and
then both beasts were still. Sadness swept through him as he bashed Archaons sword aside and drove
his hammer into the Everchosens cuirass, turning one of the skull tokens hanging there to powder.
The griffon had known he wasnt its master, though he wore the mans skin. It had served him
regardless, and it had served him well. He had not known Karl Franz, though he wished he had. That the
beast had loved him so, enough to fight on as it had, spoke well of the Emperor. Scattered memories, not
his own but those of the body he had taken possession of, filled his mind, and he saw the Imperial
Zookeeper hand over an egg to a youth on the edge of manhood. He saw the first faltering steps of the
cub, as Karl Franz fed it morsels from his own fingers. And he saw their first battle, and felt a savage joy
as the griffon defended the body of its wounded master. I am sorry, he thought. I am sorry for it all.
You will fall here, Sigmar said, fighting for breath. His strength was ebbing. Whatever else happens,
you will fall. He felt the ground tremble beneath his feet, and he saw that the warp-artefact was no
more it had been completely consumed by the swirling void it had given birth to. The roiling surface of
the sphere ate away at the cavern around it, and a crackling, empty void of white was left in place of the
churned rock. His heart sank.
It doesnt matter, Archaon said. Nothing matters. Ive won. This world will burn, and something better
will rise from the ashes. He launched a flurry of blows that Sigmar was hard-pressed to block. He was
moving slower now, and the entire right side of his armour was slippery with his own blood. Archaon
didnt seem to tire, but Sigmar, for all his power, knew he wasnt so lucky. His heartbeat hammered in his
ears and his lungs burned, but despite it all, despite the danger, he knew he wouldnt have traded places
with anyone.

This is where I was meant to be, he thought. Despite the fury of battle, he was calm. This is my reason for
living, this is why I was born. This moment is mine. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a white-furred
shape lope towards him, and he smiled. Hello, old wolf. You told me once I would come to a bad end, and
here we are.
Archaons sword slipped past his flagging guard and smashed into his cuirass. Sigmar fell back, off
balance. He struck the ground hard, and Ghal Maraz was jolted from his hand. He stared up at Archaon,
as the latter lifted his blade in both hands.
To think, they believed that you could save them, Archaon said.
To think, I once thought you might do that yourself, Sigmar said. Archaon hesitated. Sigmar smiled
sadly. Diederick Kastner, son of a daughter of the Empire. You could have been the sword that swept my
land free of Chaos forever. In a better world, perhaps you have. But here and now, you are nothing more
than another petty warlord.
You know nothing about me, Archaon said, still holding his sword aloft.
I know you. I saw you born and I saw you die, again and again. I saw your soul twisted all out of shape
by the honeyed words of daemons, and I saw you turn your back on me. I saw and I wept, for you, and
for what I knew you would do.
Archaon lowered his blade. No
You made yourself a pawn of prophecy, Sigmar said. You set your feet on this path. The daemons
helped, but it was you who walked into the darkness. It was you who fled the light, Diederick.
You are not Sigmar. The gods are all dead, and he was a lie, Archaon grated.
Are they dead, or are they a lie? Make up your mind, Sigmar said. He could see Ghal Marazs haft, just
out of the corner of his eye. He stretched a hand towards it.
You are lying, Archaon roared. He lifted his sword, but before he could bring it down, there was a flash
of white fur, and then Wendel Volker was there. Axe and sword connected with a screech, and the
former exploded in its owners hands. Volker staggered, and Archaons sword chopped down, through his
shoulder and into his chest. Archaon tore his blade free and the Reiksguard fell. Sigmar rolled over and
reached for the hammer, but Archaon kicked it aside. No! No more distractions. No more lies, Archaon
howled. You die now, and your Empire dies with you. He made to move after Sigmar, but something
stopped him. Sigmar looked down, and saw Volker clinging to Archaons legs.
I told you once, Everchosen. When a wolf bites, he does not let go, Volker croaked. And I told you that
you would die here, whatever else. Archaon looked down in obvious shock, and Volker grinned up at
him. This is my city, man, and you will not take it! Ice began to spread across Archaons greaves, and he
roared in anger and pain as the cold gnawed at him. Then the Slayer of Kings flashed down, and Wendel
Volker, bearer of the godspark of Ulric, was no more.

Sigmar saw Volker slump, and heard, deep in his mind, the death-howl of the god he had worshipped in
his youth. He had no time to mourn, for even as Archaon tore his blade free of the body of the last of the
Reiksguard, the Everchosen pivoted and brought the howling daemon-blade down. But Volker and Ulrics
sacrifice had given him the time he needed to recover, and call up the lightning that was again his to
command.
Sigmar thrust his hands up, and felt the blade crash against his palms. Lightning crackled between flesh
and the hungry bite of tainted steel, and Sigmar slowly closed his fingers tight about the blade. Then he
pushed himself erect, driving Archaon back with every step. The Everchosen tried to push back, but the
Emperor was too strong.
And then, with a scream that was of joy as much as it was of pain, the Slayer of Kings shattered in
Sigmars grip. Archaon reeled as smoking shards of the daemon-blade tore into his armour. Blinded,
dazed, he stumbled back. Sigmar lunged forwards and drove his fist into Archaons featureless helm,
buckling the metal, and driving him back, over the precipice, and into the maelstrom of shadows.
Archaon, Lord of the End Times, vanished into the darkness.- Lord of Chaos
Archaon was defeated. The war would have been lost totally for the forces of ruin right then had not
Manfred Von Carstein, at the height of his treachery, sabotaged the ritual to get the rift under control
by stabbing Balshazar Gelt in the back. Teclis overloaded from taking on too much energy, Nagash was
drained of his and the rest were stripped of theirs. Sigmar tried one last time to take control of the
situation however from the rift emerged a frenzied, crazed Archaon who tackled the God-King.
They were last seen wrestling for control of Sigmars mighty hammer Ghal Maraz in the warp as the
world was sucked in around them.
===LOADOUT===

Offensive: Slayer of Kings: The second everchosen captured the greater daemon Uzhul in this sword,
which became magically enchanted. This blade hungers for the blood of regents or royalty above all else
and can ignore armor or melt through most enemy weapons. Archaon can also choose to activate its
power allowing him to strike far faster and harder, with enough power to
knock down a city gate, but must be cautious that
the malevolent blade does not turn on him. He is physically strong enough
to strangle a Bloodthirster to death with his own whip.
Leaping down from the monsters back, Archaon grabbed the tapering end
of the whip and heaved it up and around the daemons monstrously thick
neck. All the while the devastated abomination watched him through the
scorched orb of a single eye the other having burst from its frenzied efforts
to acquire the Chaos warlord. Sliding the tip of the whip beneath the great
daemons neck, Archaon created an improvised noose. Grabbing the weapon

with both hands, Archaon heaved. He heaved for all he was and was going to be. The great Bloodthirster
could barely heave its decimated red carcass from the beach of bone but managed to claw at the whip
cutting across its throat.
Now it was Archaons turn to bellow and roar. He hauled at the whip, the muscles of his arms and chest
bulging, his bones braced to break. He strained for his survival. For victory. For destiny. As the great
daemon breathed its last, its own skull crashing to the shore and its claws falling limply away, Archaon
released the whip. He fell backwards into skulls and the blood that lapped up the shore. As he breathed,
ached, found his way back from the insanity of his trials, the hellfire about the archipelago died. All was
darkness. The clink of skulls and the slosh of blood faded away.- Archaon: Lord of Chaos
He has mastered or at least learned just about every style of combat, from bare fisted to swordplay,
simply from studying so many diverse enemies. In fact he made a point of learning the full applications
along with mastery of every strange weapon used in an attempt to kill him, including all manner of
ranged weapons. He knows the vital points to all major mortal races in the world.
He is a Level 4 wizard(courtesy of the Eye of Sheerian) capable of using spells from the Lores of
Tzeentch, Fire, Metal, Death, & Shadow .
Archaons skill at arms is so great that really the only individuals that have ever beaten him one on one
are Belakor (prior to being the Everchosen) and Sigmar (with some minor help). However it was left
ambiguous by the text whether Valtern could have and author comments do have some rare notable
figures of legendary skill (like Abhorash) capable of doing so.
Archaon rides Dorghar, the steed of the Apocalypse. This is a shapeshifting daemonic steed with a vile
disposition, biting, stomping and kicking with sadistic mirth in combat. Most of the time it appears as a
stallion however Archaon can have it change to alternative forms, such as a flaming comet or dragonesque creature.

Defensive: Armor of Morkar: Archaon wields the armor of Morkar, the first Everchosen, which shields
him from all but the deadliest blows, like extreme magic or artillery. Then on top of that he has the Eye
of Sheerian giving the wielder a massive amount of detection. Archaon can see across entire planes of
existence, view any location in the world at once, look into the past or possible futures and detect
normally hidden entities, such as spirit forms or Belakor or later the Wood Elf seer Naith.
Ensconced above the eye sockets of his helms skull-face, Archaon engaged the Eyes supernatural
abilities. The gem glowed with damned energies, allowing Archaon to see far beyond even his own
enhanced senses. Great distance and the obstacles of rock and storm were nothing to the Eye. It brought
Archaon, in gaze at least, from horizon to horizon and beyond. With the great artefact, one of the six
treasures of Chaos that marked a man as Everchosen of the Ruinous Gods, the dark templar had plotted
the course of his incursion into the Wastes at the bottom of the world.-Eye of Sheerian

This can be amplified by the mark of Tzeentch, which gives him low-grade magic resistance, and Mark
of Nurgle, which has him surrounded by rotflies. Finally the Crown of Domination makes him give off
an aura of terror like a Greater Daemon, as well as make it so Chaos units dont route within his
immediate presence (50m).
The disgusting sensation of the warpflames effects still remained with him. Through the searing agony
that was his left hand, he fancied he could still feel his missing digits and their rebellion in flesh. The
inferno washed across the peak, feeling its way about the rocks and ridges before it found its victim.
Archaon stood like a statue, with the purple blaze raging about him. It filled his socket-slits with its blaze
of change that danced across the surface of his plate. As the firestream abated, Archaon felt no
scorching warmth through the armour. He felt no rebellion of the flesh as spawndom claimed him.
Morkars armour was impervious to the dragons wrath. Slipping an axe from his belt the Chaos warrior
threw the weapon at the passing beast, burying the blade in its morphing flesh.- Archaon: Everchosen
Even without armor he is extremely hard to kill, having taken numerous poundings, stabs, cuts and more
from creatures in the past. Skaven, Dark Elf assassins and even the legendary Brunner the Bounty
Hunter have all tried and failed to assassinate him.

===ADDITIONAL FACTORS===
Archaon is the Everchosen, meaning he is the one by default who can command this massive force . He
possesses all four Marks at once and can see in the dark, as well as has the spectral vision that
daemons have (that allows for seeing of souls) along with a form of x-ray vision that allows him to
physical weaknesses inside the enemy.
Archaons mere presence seemed to affect the environment about him. Wherever he went, the skies
darkened. Thunder rolled and cloud broiled. Lighting storms flashed within the apocalyptic oppression of
a storm ever breaking and bathed the land with an infernal glow. Indeed, Archaon had brought a little of
hell back with him from the brink of oblivion. The wind streamed dust and ice about him. As the gloom

darkened, the heavens rumbled and forks of hellish lightning stabbed down from the sky, Archaon
nodded to himself. He was a living announcement of his own doom a fitting misfortune for the
Everchosen of Chaos and the Lord of the End Times to come.
Archaon is always accompanied by a small legion of the Swords of Chaos- legendary warriors of chaos
who initially aligned with him for glory, but now whose personalities had been subsumed by their
lord. They fight for him with a loyalty relatively unknown among the treacherous hordes of Chaos.
Panic spread like wildfire through the Middenheim companies, fanned to greater fury by the
bludgeoning advance of the Swords of Chaos. Canto, still astride his cursing steed, could only marvel at
the sheer, dogged relentlessness of Archaons warriors. They fought like automatons. There was never a
wasted motion or excess of force. As soon as one enemy fell from their path they moved on to the next
without hesitation. They fought in silence as well, uttering no battle cries or even grunts of pain when a
blow struck home.- Lord of The End Times
===X-FACTORS===

*Though I have tried to keep Age of Sigmar out of this as much as possible I am including some
elements of his command style in the Battletome : Everchosen to show off his technique and
command skills.
Adaptive Creativity: 76/100: Archaon is extremely creative when he needs to be, utilizing deception,
confusion and misdirection. Sometimes it involves expert use of the environment, sometimes of the
enemy.

Tactics: 80/100: Archaon rarely loses a fight and has fought countless hundreds of battles in all sorts of
climates, from the frozen North to becoming a huge pirate in the sea around Cathay. Its mentioned that
he excels at exploiting the weaknesses of enemies to achieve victory. Only rarely has he lost, and usually
those come at a great cost and/or are swiftly reversed.
Strategy: 83/100: Archaon, as overlord of Chaos, conquered the entire civilized world in the End Times
and succeeded in his main objective of destroying the world, albeit only through unexpected treachery.
His strategy is based heavily on division and confusion, on cutting forces off from one another and
ensuring disunity, on weakening the enemy from within and via other means that Archaon has at his
disposal (such as infiltration and plague spreading). Simultaneously the overwhelming numbers of
chaos are also used quite effectively.
Furthermore events in Age of Sigmar would just continue to prove his genius. He conquered hundreds of
realms and worlds with only a scant few, hard fought defeats in between. The only time he lost a
campaign conclusively was fighting in the Realm of Shadow, a defeat Archaon is determined to rectify.
Intuition: 82/100: Thanks to the Eye of Sheerian he can see different planes of existence, scry across
hundreds of miles, look into the past and see many different possibilities of the future. The latter isnt
entirely perfect but nevertheless is exceptional.

Audacity: 90/100: Though Archaon is not a coward, he does not charge into conflict without cause for
he knows he is the best shot of destroying all life and does not want to die prematurely. He has no
qualms sending vast hordes of his men (or especially Skaven!) to do, as he hates the force he leads.

Psychological Warfare: 85/100: In one feat he managed to convince one of Sigmars holiest warriors to
join him, and he has used diplomacy, threats, and the like to get his way. Other times he moves to
invoke fear in the enemy, divide them from within, or play upon their personal weaknesses (which,
courtesy of a chaos mutation, he can actually see). It should be noted that Archaons greatest desire is
to break up the unity of the enemy, to divide them and render them easier pickings for conquest.
In the Age of Sigmar he played upon the arrogance and self-serving nature of Nagash to convince the
Lich that he could win without Sigmars help thus abandoning his allies, the hatred and pride of Sigmar
to lure him into a trap that saw much of the god kings power lost . Terror and paranoia are weapons
Archaon loves to use.
At the Brass Citadel Archaon led his army to a bloodbath of a victory against Kruorgor of the Brazen
Horde a greater daemon in the service of mighty Khorne. Forced to kill the daemons bloodletter
battlehost to the very last infernal berserker, the assault on the Brass Citadel trapped Kruorgor in his
own palace. Archaon frustrated the Blood Gods abominate servant. Unusually for the Chaos warlord, he
would not meet the Skulltaker in single combat. Pummelling the greater daemon with monstrous attacks
from his own horde and siege fire from his bone engines of war, Archaon stoked the greater daemons

bottomless ire to such a degree that the dread creature raged into the form of a hell-fed inferno: a titan
of fury and flame. The Brass Citadel melted about the creature, drowning the great Kruorgor in an
insolent lake of liquid metal.- Archaon: Lord of Cyhaos

Experience: 94/100: 200 years of experience, against every single foe WHF has to offer, from Lustria
Lizardmen to Eastern Cathay. Due to time being warped in the Chaos Wastes it is unknown the total
number of years he has fought.
Discipline: 68/100:Archaon is rare for Chaos in that he is someone with the discipline to be patient, to
not screw up his armies with paranoia before the main battle and remain focused on the task. Even he
has lapses sometimes however and allows personal hatred to influence decisions.

Inspiration: 77/100: While he gets props for being one of the only men in history to convince unified
Chaos to fight for them and he is near worshipped by the lower ranking, it is in the nature of Chaos to
scheme and resent those ahead of it. During the End Times he had to fight many attempted uprisings
(many spoiled by the effects of the Eye of Sheerian), deal with sub-commanders who were extremely
creative in obeying his commands (did as much to ensure their personal fortune as possible, sometimes
to the detriment of the plan) and other headaches.
Corruption: 98/100: Archaon wants to wipe the entire world out, and destroy existence. Everything,
including the Chaos Gods.
"And pray to your dread gods? Giselle said, glassy-eyed.
No, Archaon said. For I have none. Let the powers of darkness favour me if they will. Let them lend me
their strength and draw strength from my victories, if that is their want. You will not see me kneel to
them even as I kneel before you now. All gods are fickle. Dont trust in them. I dont. Believe as much as
you need to or not at all. Ultimately, the only thing you can really believe in is yourself.
You serve the Chaos gods
They serve themselves, Archaon said. As do I. This world is not fit for man or god. The Empire and
nations of old, the exotic lands beyond and even here the cruel Wastes. All will fall and all will burn for
me. I will be the Lord of the End Times. The harbinger of doom for all man and god for in a world of
the slain, with no men, no savages, no ancients of the elder races to pray to them and erect their
temples, what will become of these gods, their heroes and their daemons? - Archaon Everchosen

I was one of you, Archaon called across the frozen silence, his voice carried on the shearing wind. A
puppet in a sick show like this. Dancing for my dark masters. I dance no more. And neither should you.
The gifts of the gods are no such thing. Let us not seek reward. Let us not ask for power. Let us not wait

on that which is given. Let us take what is ours. Darkness is ours. Ruin is ours. The world turns beneath
our feet for the taking. Real power resides not with gods or any following but with those who take it from
them. I am Archaon, doom to my enemies, doom to all the world, doom to the gods invested in that
world. Come with me. Why earn the treasures of Chaos when you can steal them? Why kill for Ruinous
patrons when you can kill for yourself? Why sell your souls so cheaply, when you can make the worlds of
gods and men pay for your miseries?
I might be Chosen of the Dark Gods but I did not choose them. I will be Everchosen of Chaos, whether
the dread Powers and their daemons wish it for me or not. The legions of hell will be ours to command
and we shall use them to demonstrate true power. The power to choose. To be or not to. To drag the sick
perversity of this daemon-haunted existence kicking and screaming into a time of Ending. To end the
world, the gods that torment it and ourselves. That is real power and I ask you to seize it with me. With
he who is one of you: lost, damned even, but a slave to darkness no more. With Archaon- Archaon:
Lord of Chaos.

More than any other force in Warhammer,

even the Greenskins, Chaos united is an
offensively oriented force. When an
Everchosen is crowned and the legions of
Chaos unify, the entire force becomes a
massive nomadic horde bent on the
destruction of all. Moving in the many millions
if not far more they have no need to stay in
one place rather traveling from destination to destination in a scythe of destruction.
Suppose a force that is entirely offensive finds itself on the defensive. Chaos would likely have some
emergency fortifications or techniques to fall back upon. These include stakes tipped with toxins that
leave the foe in a mixture of pure ecstasy and agonizing pain, Tzeentchi illusions and plenty of diseases.
Sorcerers would try to summon greater numbers of daemons and the fact that the weaker members of
the horde are often perched on its outskirts would see the expendables die first. As discussed in the
mutation section, the very land for many miles around the Chaos horde will be corrupted and dangerous
to tread on.
Individually, the Chaos forces do have their own fortifications, albeit primitive and rarely used.
Beastmen have shanty camps that are often in the middle of forests, offering plenty of opportunity to
ambush invaders. The Norsemen are decent architects that can build wooden walls and traps to hamper

an attacker, though they prefer melee. The Warriors of Chaos prefer melee as well, though some are
known to have truly elaborate defenses. For example Van Horstmann has a teleporting tower
surrounded by illusions that only appears at night with magical defense.
Of the forces of Chaos only the Chaos Dwarfs can be said to truly invest in defense. They are the ones
who build garrisons and forts on campaign made from volcanic obsidian. They forts have watchtowers,
artillery posts, walls and more. Their designs are meant to look as intimidating as possible and may
have enchantments besides. In the novel Wulfrik Chaos Dwarfs were able to create guardian statues
that were magicked to appear as the most formidable enemies causing the Norsemen to attack them
and ignore the Chaos Dwarfs.
Wulfrik charged down the wide roadway leading to the base of the ziggurat. His skin crawled as he
passed the morbid ranks of statues lining the path, stone effigies of dwarf warriors with axes raised. As
he glanced at them, Wulfrik noted that the silent sentinels were not wholly the work of chisel and
hammer: real bones were plastered into hollowed sections of the guardians, a skull grinning from
beneath the stony helm of each statue. The bones were those of dwarfs, but whether the dawi zharr
intended the gruesome display to honour their own dead or defile those of their enemies, he could not
say. It was enough for him to be reminded of the black hearts of his foes and the cruelty he could expect
from them if he failed.
The champion half-expected the statues to leap into life as he passed them. Running down the road, he
kept glancing back at them, watching them for some sign of motion. He could see his warriors doing the
same, clearly victim to the same unsettling premonition of lurking menace. Njarvord succumbed to the
sensation, attacking one of the statues with his axe, hacking slivers of rock and bone from one of the
sentinels before throwing himself full against it and pitching it to the roadway. The statue cracked as it
struck the road, collapsing into a heap of rubble.
Njarvords attack encouraged the other northmen to lash out at the grim statues. Even Wulfrik felt the
impulse to fling himself upon the closest of the guardians and smash it into dust. He was raising his
sword to chop at stone ankles before he realised what he was doing.
Angrily, Wulfrik lifted his sword high and shouted at his men. There was some subtle sorcery woven into
the statues, some insidious magic that antagonised any who trespassed within their influence. The
statues protected the ziggurat by provoking fear in the minds of their enemies. Lesser men would have
fled screaming from the stronghold. Norscans were made of sterner stuff. Instead of running, they fought
back. But in doing so, they allowed the statues to fulfil their purpose. Attacking unfeeling stone, spending
their strength, dulling their blades upon rock and bone, the warriors were weakening themselves. Worse,
they were giving the defenders of the ziggurat the time they needed to muster their own troop-Wulfrik

The defenders of Averheim had expected the new-come horde to spend several days reinforcing their
siege lines. The citys walls still stood tall, and the skaven had proven time and again that assault by
escalade led to little other than the slaughter of the attackers. A breach would be needed to carry
Archaons forces beyond the city walls, and breaches took time to carve in thick stone. Averheim had
days of bombardment to endure before steel clashed upon steel. So did the defenders believe.

They were wrong.

The assault along the northern wall began scant hours after Archaons banner had crested the skyline.
The Skaramor came under dark clouds and blood-red skies, howling like madmen and chanting in harsh
tongues. At first, the watchmen on the northern wall held their fire, fearing that the attack was intended
to lure the defenders into betraying their positions with weapons fire. Then they counted the number of
torches blazing in the crimson dark, and knew that this was no mere test of the defences. Orders rang
out across the battlement, linstocks were pressed to touch-holes, and the first cannons unleashed their
fury.

For a brief, glorious moment, the roar and scream of roundshot drowned out the bellowing of the
Skaramor. That moment passed all too soon, and the cries of the dying were quickly masked by the
renewed war-fervour of those below. Explosions shook the rotting boneyard that was Averheims
northern approach, the brief flames revealing tattooed bodies flung aside and mangled corpses hurled
skywards in pieces. Aiming was almost impossible in that light, but it was of little consequence. The
Skaramor were as thick as beetles upon the approach, and it was an unlucky shell indeed that missed its
mark entirely.

The horde swept closer, the chanting became more ragged as all attempt at formation was abandoned.
Oil-soaked bundles of straw were set alight and heaved from the ramparts, their dirty yellow flames
illuminating the closest attackers clear enough for proper aim. Handguns blazed across the rampart, the
dirty cough of Imperial arms punctuated by the deeper, sharper report of the rifled dwarfen guns.
Skaramor fell by the score, the dead and wounded trampled by those who came behind. Handguns
flamed for a second time. Across the walls foot, chains fell from lifeless hands, but plenty of brass

grapnels bit home upon the wall. Within moments, each chain was heavy with straining Skaramor,
hauling themselves hand over hand toward the battlement.

Cannons and mortars continued to pound the Skaramor flooding to the base of the wall, but the
handgunners now targeted the foes ascending the outer face. Bullets cracked and whined, ricocheting
from dark plate and thudding into flesh. Dozens of northlanders plummeted from their chains, bones
smashed or muscles torn beyond use. Others were hauled clear by the unwounded who came behind, no
longer willing to be delayed by a comrades dying flesh.

As gunners continued to fire, other defenders hacked at the grapnels. Their slim swords could not split
the chains, so dwarfs brought up hammers and axes. They battered at the brass until the tortured metal
gave way, and even smote the parapets facing stones until the attackers own weight tore them loose.
But for every grapnel dislodged in this manner, another three found purchase upon the walls.

So it raged for hours. The approach to the walls became choked with the newly slain, as the Skaramor
were hurled from the stones by arrow, bolt and bullet. Yet still the northlanders came. As midnight
approached, the wind died. Stinking powder smoke hung lifeless about the walls, concealing the
bellowing mass below. Still the defenders loaded and fired, loaded and fired, trusting that the horde was
so vast that no shot would be wasted.

Thousands of Skaramor perished before reaching the walls, hundreds more fell wounded and were
trampled by their own kind, but the defenders felt no triumph. All were desperately thirsty from the
bitter powder smoke that lingered thickly about the walls. All were weary, for those without bows or
handguns had busied themselves by heaving rocks and even their own dead over the walls, relying on
the plunge to add lethal force to the improvised missiles.

And dead there were upon the walls, too many dead by far. Throughout the assault, Skaramor hurled
axes, dirks and other crude blades at the ramparts. Most were cheated by the stone, but enough found
their mark. Marksmen died mid-shot as the blades thudded home, coarse insults fell ashen on troll
slayers tongues. Each body that toppled from the ramparts or slid back from the parapet was greeted
with a chorus of jeers from the horde below. The northlanders did not care that their losses were a
thousandfold those of their foes. Their assault culled the weak, and made an offering of slaughter to the
Blood God.
()

There was a brief and unexpected lull in the fighting, as the next wave of Skaramor dragged their way
through the valleys sucking morass. But the light brought despair as well as hope. As the defenders
peered out through the rain and across the Aver valley, they saw that they had done their work too well.
The dead of the northern assault had lain where they had fallen, each new wave of attackers trampling
down the fallen who had come before. In many places along the northern wall, the mound of the dead
was so high that its crest lay but feet below the crenelations. It would be a steep climb, and a macabre
one, but the compacted dead offered a route to the battlements as sure as any siege tower. The
attackers had seen it too. When they began anew, the northlanders hurled themselves up the mounds of
their own dead, scrabbling and clawing at the still warm flesh in their desperation to reach the summit.
- ET ARCHAON
MORALE: 79 (95)/100: The creatures of Chaos normally have an extremely high morale, with only rare
full on routs for a combined force, and then only after victory is completely denied. Sometimes killing of
leaders can cause a rout though not always. That said if something were to occur that were to make
them feel like their gods were watching, their morale would skyrocket to fanatical levels. In the End
Times, where reality weakened enough to where it was clear the gods were actually watching, morale
skyrocketed to frothing, maddening levels.
ARMY INTIMIDATION: 73/100 (Daemons in full force 89/ 100): While the mortals themselves in a chaos
force are positively terrifying with daemons presence supernatural fear and auras emanate an almost
unbearable atmosphere of terror. In addition the environment itself rapidly begins warping around the
Daemons, turning more hellish and hostile to life. Blood will rain from the skies, voices from beyond will
assail those on the battlefield, rocks will roll uphill as reality is itself is subverted. Some Daemons can
inspire instinctive terror in mortals while others can cause recurring nightmares just by their presence
nearby. Though its possible (and been done by Empire/Brettonian armies) for mortal forces to fight in
these conditions- even win- they will never be comfortable doing so.

DISCIPLINE: 39/100: Chaos forces,

with the exception of the Chaos
Dwarves who have their own
unique score (see Drazhoath), are
mostly organized into loose
Warbands whose leaders
represent an ever-changing form
of command. Beastmen have little
discipline at all, being famously
unruly, while Men of Chaos
possess only scant more. Indeed

the Beastmen are so terribly unruly that this actually screwed the Chaos Gods in the Nagash campaign,
for it proved impossible for the Brayherd, even under competent leadership, to avoid unnecessary
battles.

His army was not a state troop of the Empire or even a free company of irregular militia. They were
savages, maniacs and madmen. The vast majority of them amounted to little more than rabid dogs. You
did not harness such strength with uniforms and codes of conduct. You put them on chains and released
them when you needed to. Since chains themselves were impractical, warbands and tribesmen were kept
in line by their own chosen and chieftains some of whom Archaon controlled by adopting them as his
lieutenants. Others served the Chaos warrior purely out of fearful respect. They were drawn to his
singularity of purpose and the ruthlessness with which he prosecuted his will. He claimed to be the
chosen of the Dark Gods and acted like it. The damned were lost and always looking for powerful forces
to guide and orient themselves to in the insanity of the Wastes and Archaon was indeed a powerful
force. He had confidence and direction and these were all lesser men who needed to make the leap of
faith necessary to join Archaon in his doomed quest.- Archaon on Chaos organization.
Cohesion: 39/100: The whole force distrusts each other and is dependent on the favor the gods show
the champion of the force, as well as the champions success in battle. Infighting within segments is
common and expected, though it usually does not factor in on a strategic level unless truly dire. In
particular the death and replacement of leaders is frequently encouraged, for the weak have no place
here. Distrust, delays, schemes, intra-hatred and the like are rife in every sub faction, from frenzied
Beastmen to calculating Chaos Dwarf. In the case of the latter this actually played a role in the fall of
their empire, with distrustful Chaos Dwarfs using Grimgors uprising to scheme, cheat and dispose of
each other while disdainful of the Orc threat until it was too late.
Even the gods, who claim to unity in the End Times, are not fully unified. Each of them schemes from
the background to ensure they gain the most advantage from the End Times, and to limit their rivals
gains as much as possible without all-out war. Even that is not always possible, and it must be
remembered in similar times of Chaos unity that Tzeentch ensured he unduly befitted from the Great
War 200 years prior, and that in Age of Sigmar a unified Chaos push was ultimately ruined by Khorne
betraying everyone.
Archaon himself has been betrayed by other champions, his own men and even the gods before.
However the majority of these events occurred well before he became Everchosen and as the
Everchosen he has the Eye of Sheerian, his skill and experiences to provide insurance when his minions
make the attempt. That said unless it directly jeopardizes his plans he is unlikely to care too much if
betrayal overtakes an underling. At the bottom murder, sacrifice, cannibalism, bloodletting and other
forms of death are common.
Espionage: 60/100: On one hand Chaos invasions have been likened to natural disasters with all the
subtlety thereof and thus there is plenty of warning before they attack. On the other the powers of
Chaos and Cults (see Additional Factors) offers a means to infiltration in the long run that few can claim,

and perhaps none to the extent (including Skaven). Chaos corruption itself is an insidious force that
while some races are better than others at resisting (like lizardmen over humans) none are entirely
immune to it. However these cases of corruption usually occur on an individual level rather than macro
and thus its effect can be limited but never fully eliminated.
Logistics: 67/100: With the exceptions of the Chaos Dwarfs, who carry supplies in their engines, the vast
majority of the Chaos force is utilizes mass pillaging and sacking to supply their armies. They will eat
next to anything, including the dead. When this runs out and there is nothing else to eat they will eat
the weakest links of their army in a Darwinian fashion. Furthermore several Chaos units, such as
daemons and chaos warriors, do not need to eat, though the former does not to ensure access to magic.
Blockade: 69/100: Thanks to exceptional fleets, Chaos corruption and mutation Chaos can make the
very environment dangerous and hazardous to all that lives. Though it will take time gradually, as magic
increasingly warps the land, the land will come to resemble the hellish zones of the Realm of Chaos.
Aggression: 91/100: The Legion of the Everchosen exists only to kill, murder or otherwise destroy. If
they are not killing Order factions than they are killing each other. The horde is perpetually on the
offensive at almost all times.

What Chaos is interested more than any other gain is souls. At best this means the corrupted, souls to
join an army bent on wiping out all. Rarely, this might even mean a whole race dedicated to evil.
Otherwise these souls can be consumed in great rituals and sacrifice to the gods. Other than that the
gains are pretty mundane. Weapons, armor and the like will be looted from the enemy after each battle.
Magical lore might be taken and learned by the followers of Tzeentch, plague lore by the Plaguefather.
Great Beasts can be forcibly tamed and used, corrupted, in their armies.

Both the Men of Chaos and Beastmen number

well into the millions, perhaps tens of millions
each, spread across huge swathes of the world.
In the End Times these two forces alone were so
numerous as to overwhelm all major civilized
nations in simultaneous assaults. Of the mortal
races only the Skaven and perhaps the
Greenskins outnumber them.
Prior to the End Times the Daemons were very
limited by the how heavy the Winds of Magic flowed about the world. During the End Times, where
these limits were almost completely skirted, they too appeared in their millions across the land. Thus
for any campaigns in which they appear the daemons might be limited somewhat in the beginning,
however as their mortal followers spread more of their requisite emotions (such as bloodletting for
Khorne) and the winds blow harder, daemons will appear in increasingly greater numbers.
However, as with the Skaven, these numbers are thinned somewhat by inherent disunity. Squabbles are
frequent and the weak are killed by the stronger with great regularity. Accidents, sacrifice, sabotage,
scheming and giant monsters eating things on the way to battle all serve to further diminish forces.
Though the presence of Archaon serves as a stabilizer when it comes to squabbles at the top, on lower
levels he barely cares except when it provides a major detriment to his plans. Sometimes also foolish
warlords think they can rise above Archaon as Everchosen with predictable results.

The mighty Chaos Dwarf Empire is said to number more than any single Dwarf hold and though still
rare may potentially outnumber the actual Dwarfs, as the Chaos Dwarfs- secure behind their slave
legions- havent been under perpetual assault for the last 4000 years. Hobgoblins are of course a variant
of the Greenskin that dominant both the Dark Lands and the steppes above Cathay.
Other allies arent so common. The Dragon Ogres are described as a rarity while Fimir are so uncommon
that they are almost mythological. The several thousand Druichi part of the Cult of Blood are going to be
the only real Chaos-allied elves Archaon would receive.

Even beings as mighty as the Chaos gods crave the one thing that they cannot automatically acquire;
souls. Mortal souls are the wellspring of their power, which grows statistically as more mortals are
corrupted or devoured. This is why they make war on the Material Realm- with their followers obeying
them in the hope of divine award or pure devotion or fear of utter damnation if they fail. Though other
motivations do exist, such as the Beastmans hatred of civilization or the Chaos Dwarfs desire to build
a horrific industrial world-spanning tyranny, this is by far the greatest reason.
They fight because they are men possessed of a terrible idea that their gods require it of them. What
makes them so dangerous is that they truly believe in the things they say they believe; that they are the
chosen warriors of an ancient power whose sole purpose is to destroy any who oppose it. Such men
cannot be reasoned with, for their every belief is enslaved to the idea that the destruction of our world is
their sacred duty.- Tzarina Katarina, Ice and Sword

Mortals are free to do as they will. The Gods give them no choice. Imperial Proverb
Of all the weaponry Chaos has in its immense arsenal, the power of Chaos corruption stands
unequaled. The savage Beastman can be fought off, the marauder butchered and even the daemon
banished but the possibility of corruption remains. Given time it can twist a heroic virtue into a vice, sap
the strength of civilizations or even pervert a whole race.
Corruption refers to the gradual slide of morals and personal integrity into something debased and
depraved. It is very much the means by which the gods gain followers among the mortal races. Manysuch as the Northmen and Beastmen - are either born corrupt or raised in a corrupt society that leads to
them knowing only Chaos. Others are drawn in via choice, circumstance or events until the mortal finally
takes a final step into damnation. There are numerous manners by which corruption can come about.
Chaos corruption is an extremely important yet difficult concept to understand, for it is not portrayed
consistently and varies between authors. Fan debate also usually places it on too high or too low a
pedestal without understanding its limitations or abilities.

Mutation refers to the process by which the raw essence of Chaos physically interacts with mortal form
and alters it, whether slightly or significantly, with supernatural metamorphosis. Sometimes this
forced change is directed according to a specific plan of a malevolent deity. However, just as often it is
determined by the capricious whims of the Aether itself. These mutations can range from the helpful,
such as scaly skin armor or fire breath, to the harmful like sickly skin or a thousand random noses on the
body. They can be physical or mental/psychological, with examples of the latter including irrational rage
or extreme, Skaven-like fear.
Mutation can affect the very environment itself, warping nature into a twisted aberration of itself.
Creatures that were once herbivores evolve multiple carnivorous mouths, tentacles and a lust for blood
while predators gain more viciousness and appendages. Nature and the land change in a myriad of
fashions, usually depending on which god is dominant in corruption. A landscape influenced by Khorne
will appear hellish and full of lava while in the End Times Nurgle turned the Empires forests into a
horrific swamp full of carnivorous man-eating plants and poisonous, sludgy water. The stronger the
winds are blowing the greater the presence of Chaos and thus the more mutated the landscape will be.
Mutation of an individual can be caused by magical spells or items, direct contact with the corrupt (with
wyrdstone being particularly virulent) or even just being in an ambient environment corrupted by Chaos

for too long. Limiting contact with corruption, as well as magical means of defense or racial traits
(Dwarfs being notoriously difficult to mutate), can lessen the chance of mutation to a fair degree.
However, it never fully goes away.
However once such a mutation occurs it provides a constant gateway of Chaos exposure on the mind,
body and soul, with the degree varying depending on the depth and extent of the mutation (sometimes
heavy enough mutation will result in someone falling to Chaos immediately). Others, depending upon
the traits described below, might resist for a while if their willpower is strong. Karl Hoche of Marks of
Heresy, mutated with a second mouth on his neck, dedicated over a year of his life to hunting down
Chaos wherever he found it. In Shamanslayer a young Knight squire of exceptional will was completely
turned into a Beastman yet still held onto his mind long enough to warn his uncorrupted comrades of an
impending trap days later before being put down.
Thus corruption from mutation can, depending on the strength of mind of the afflicted in question and
the power of the individual mutation, can fall to Chaos in moments or last for a couple years (strongest
cases). However, unfortunately, ALL those afflicted eventually succumb. Even Karl Hoche, the insatiable
anti-mutant Mutant, eventually would have been taken over by his mutation according to author
comments on the unreleased sequels. Even towards the end of the second novel he was slowly giving
into new unsavory habits, such as allowing his second mouth to drink human blood.

It is possible to cure those affected via surgery if done before the influence is still weak or hasnt spread
too much (and of course, if the victim can afford to have the afflicted limb hacked off!). So someone
with a scaly thumb would probably be fine if hacked off promptly. Magical means might extend the cure
point a little further, though Chaos mutation is as a rule extremely difficult to cure in such a form. That
said, eventually there is a point where not even the strongest magic could heal someone as the
corruption takes over enough of the soul, body and mind of the afflicted. If the Lore of Light was used
on such an individual, it would evaporate them completely rather than just healing the mutation.
In dealing with a Chaos corrupted environment it is usually the case that mortal armies have to wait
until the Winds of Magic recede and then torch everything that was corrupted. However, if necessary
the environment can be directly countered on campaign with copious amounts of fire and/or magical
means. In End Times: Glottkin Vlad von Carstein had his necromancers use death magic on Nurgles
garden to clear a path to Altdorf and later in that same novel the onset of a magical winter killed the
remainder of Nurgles plants.
The practical advantages mutation provides to Chaos are numerous. For their followers it gives even the
most lowly marauder or Beastman a chance to improve with each battle as gods award mutations as
they see fit. Occasionally this proves to be too much and the unlucky supplicant mutates into a Spawn
or Forsaken which, nevertheless, can still be corralled and used against the enemy. As shown in the End
Times and the recent Total Warhammer videogame enemy armies must either move very carefully in
Chaos lands or see their forces whittled down via terrible attrition. As eating corrupted game or plant
life or drinking water is a sure means to spread corruption the army must bring its own supplies or find

some rare source that isnt corrupted (and not deceptive). Thus mutation and a corrupt environment
provide a defense of sorts as well as a constant source of attrition among the enemy.

Who are you really? Karl asked. What did you do? You know enough to have tricked Max, and hes no
fool. But you were never a priest of Chaos.
Nils paused. I did work at the temple in Nuln, he said, and paused again. The Temple of Morr, he
added, dug an acorn from his pocket and chewed on it. I was a gravedigger. One of the priests was
teaching me too. He said I had potential, that I may find work in the brotherhood. Then my wings started
sprouting, and I spread.
How long has that been?
Seven Summer. Seven years in the forest. Its not been easy, Nils said. His face slowly became lined and
worn, growing dewlapped, pock-marked and sad. He fished another acorn from his pocket and offered it
to Karl. You wont tell Max, will you?
Karl took the acorn and ignored the question. He said This is what interest me. None of us had any
contact with Chaos before we started to change. Except me, he thought, and I am not telling you that.
If we had been Chaos worshippers, wed have seen the mutation as a gift from our gods, not a reason to
flee. Yet here, instead of cursing Chaos and turning to Sigmar and Morr, you and the others follow this
debased form of Tzeentch-worship, a god you know almost nothing about. Is there something endemic in
mutation, that it turns the bearer towards the Chaos Gods? Or is it in the nature of Man that we feel the
need to grovel towards whatever power seems to control our lives? Because if its the former-
(Cut a Boar attack on the pair. In this conflict Nils cries out for help from Seench)

Do you remember what you shouted?

Itno Nlis features were agitated, unable to settle on one face or expression.
It was Seench, Nils. You shouted the name of a god you dont know, that you admit you dont
understand. By sense, you should have no faith in this god, and yet in your distress you called his name.
Karl stepped away, limping around the clearing, testing his left. He bent over the still carcass of the black
boar and pulled his knife from its throat, wiping it clean on his trousers. You answered my question.
What question? Nils looked agitated.
Karl didnt look at him. Whether the worship of Chaos among mutants is a conscious reaction against
the Old Gods who have abandoned us, or whether it lies deeper. Does the fact that we bear the mark of
Chaos make us things of Chaos? You, Nils, you were closer to the old gods than any of us. But in your
panic you didnt call for Morr or Sigmar. You called for Tzeench, the god who made you this thing of
corruption.
From behind him he could hear Nils shift position, probably towards a weapon of some kind. So what?
the mutant asked What does that have to do with getting back to the camp with a ton of pork and a
man with a broken leg?
Its about what you believe. Karl said I believe that the works of Chaos are intolerable and must be
destroyed. And though I believe you do not understand it, and you think yourself a good man who has
been used cruelly by fate, you are in your heart a thing of Chaos.
But you cant exorcise the Chaos out of me, Nils protested. Karl stood and turned. He picked up a
broken spear, adjusted his grip and advanced across the clearing. Nils saw his expression and tried to
scrabble away, around the trunk of the elm.
Seench! Seench! he whimpered Why like this? Why didnt you let the boar kill me?
I wanted you to know why youre going to die, Karl said , Its not personal. All things of Chaos must be
destroyed, its as simple as that.
Nils kicked out with his good leg. Karl dodged it and put one foot on the mutants broken limb, pressing it
down. Nils screamed in pain, flailing his arms, tears streaking his bizarre face.
For pitys sake, He pleaded.
I pity you, but that will not save you, Karl said. He took aim with the spear, careful to avoid the jerkin.
But youre marked by Chaos too! Nils squealed .
My time will come, Karl said, and thrust downwards. -Mark of Damnation.

Possession is the assumption of the physical form by some external agency, with this case being
daemons. Though rather rare in the Warhammer world it is one of the most feared mechanisms of
Chaos. For if the outer appearance of a daemon is terrifying enough, what can be more fearsome than
sharing a soul with one?
In the Warhammer universe all living creatures are connected to the Realm of Souls and thus at risk
from the malevolent inhabitants of that realm. The more connected to the realm (the larger the soul)
the greater the presence in the realm, with intelligent life in general being more connected than non.
Daemons, as creatures of the Warp, may choose to use a mortals connection to both dimensions as a
personal gateway through which it can interact with the mortal realm. Though it is not unheard of for a
daemon to possess an animal or tree (or, in 40ks case, a robot) such cases are rare, for intelligent life
can house more of the demons innate power and form. Daemons can technically possess inanimate
objects however they will almost never willingly do so and this is usually reserved as a punishment.
There are several means of possession. The first, usually reserved for the most fervent of Chaos
worshippers, is voluntary. Some are crazed cultists eager to please their masters or are fools who
believe that by inviting a daemon inside themselves they will gain their strength or even control of the
daemon. 99% of the time they are wrong*. By inviting such an entity inside themselves their minds are
immediately devoured as the daemon seizes full control of the host. The soul is unrecoverable.
Some mortals are born with a stronger connection to the supernatural. Of them, most are discovered by
the Colleges of Magic and selected as Apprentices. A few discover their talents and develop magic use in
a haphazard way, mostly through trial and error. But the rest can go their entire lives never knowing
what potential lies within them, what powers could be theirs to control with training and study. It is
these whom the Daemons seek.

Through unprotected dreams daemons may enter the minds of these individuals while taking great
pains to hide its presence, for if the mortal detected it in this stage then the daemon might be repelled.
Instead, the Daemon worms its way deep into the unconscious where it gently prods and pushes over
the weeks to gradually corrupt its hosts mind and actions. For this reason, its harder to detect a
possessing Daemon since the telltale marks of possession are slower to manifest. That said, handling
holy objects, even early on, will cause the daemon immense pain and spoil the disguise.
Other times it might be a victim sacrificed by a cult to provide a host for its patron daemon, or a mage
who gets a little too careless handling his magical spells.
Once inside the daemon will slowly alter the mortals vessel in subtle ways that it sees fit, gradually
seeking to warp it into the daemons true form. In the meantime the victim might experience visions or
hallucinations, gradually growing to where the victim sees the world as the daemon sees it. The host
might become paranoid and withdrawn as the entity poisons thoughts against former friends and
allegiances. He or she might experience a host of other symptoms like spontaneous vomiting; weird
symbols carved into the flesh, unholy appetites or mutations as well as daemon type specific personality
changes. For example someone possessed by a Slaaneshi daemon might be more lewd and licentious,
while one of Khorne is prone to wrathful rages.
By the time the most severe mutations and effects take form the mortals soul is irredeemable, either
corrupted or consumed by the daemon inside. However before this point it is still possible to exorcise
the daemon, if caught early enough. Many religions have different lores or magical means of doing so,
though the daemon will rarely leave willingly and in often cases it is a struggle of wills between the
exorcist and the entity. In Warhammer Fantasy there are no known examples of the mortal victim
throwing off an already entrenched daemon presence by him or herself, though in Warhammer 40k the
Illuminati secret society is an example where this has succeeded. Malus Darkblade, a Druichi leader,
was able to keep a daemon prince who possessed him at bay for many years though this was mostly
through a combination of extreme willpower, magical strengthening potions and the daemon limiting
itself at times. Eventually Darkblade did succumb in the End Times.

Battlefield Possession: Sometimes, in the heat of battle, daemons might try to possess someone (almost
always a wizard) if they are not careful enough or miscast a spell. With powerful enough willpower
these attempts can be fought off by the mortal; otherwise the daemon might take temporary
possession and inflict damage on the victim and/or the victims allies. The more powerful the daemon
that attempts such a possession, the more difficult it will be to fight off.
Though all daemons have the capacity to possess mortals, most daemons fortunately do not try to do
so, for fortunately it takes a great deal of energy and effort for a daemon to make the attempt.
Occasionally a bored daemonette might attempt possession, or more likely a daemon prince. The only
restriction is that the daemon must be unbodied to do so, meaning most daemons on the battlefield
cannot attempt possession. Thus possession can be considered rarer than mutation (probably the most
common form of Chaos corruption) or the spiritual corruption referred to below.
Moreover possession can only remain undetected for so long. Gradually, as the daemon takes control of
the host it will inevitably alter the host to better fit the daemons own true form. It is the nature of

magic to warp reality and thus even if the daemon wanted to hide its presence for a while longer it
would be unable to prevent mutation and transformation from occurring. Thus possession as a means
of infiltration would be limited only to the early timeframe of the hosts affliction. It can, however,
somewhat bypass this by trying to lure another mortal to serve as a host. Such forcible transferences are
almost invariably fatal to the original host however, if successful, the daemon can then continue its dark
work until the new body begins to mutate.
Compared to mutation possession does not offer the same comparative number of advantages,
courtesy of its rarity. Possession cases can certainly cause havoc and disruption among enemies,
particularly if it suddenly revealed or is used to take out an enemy champion. Depending on how enemy
magic works it might be able to be used successfully against enemy magic users. However its usefulness
for infiltration is limited courtesy of the daemon being unable to maintain the hosts form once the soul
is consumed.
*To add a quick note the case of the Skullmongerers, who willingly bind a daemon to themselves and
keep control, shows an example that it is theoretically possible for a mortal to voluntarily imprison a
daemon inside of them to gain their strength and remain in control, for a while at least.

The great and the good carry the same flaws as you and I.

They are just buried deeper or concealed with greater skill.

Accept this as truth. Though it is true also that such revelations are a fall from which we never truly
recover.
Eugen Kufka, A History of the Empire v.XII- Archaon: Everchosen
Both mutation and possession can be considered external means of corruption. This means that the
forces of Chaos are directly taking hold in the victims body (Mutation, which is usually physical) or mind
(possession, with a daemon constantly twisting thoughts). From there the corruption spreads to the
mind/body (whichever not initially infected) and ultimately soul. However the means that I speak of
below, the most insidious manner of corruption of all, starts soundly in a mortals own soul.
Of all the means of Chaos corruption this means- the means by which the mortal voluntarily seeks out
Chaos- seems to please the gods the most. More so than random mutations or daemonic possession
those who choose Chaos by their own volition attract the eye of the gods. This is the most insidious
means of Chaos corruption, for physical mutation can be found out and daemonic possession limited
and averted but it is hard to stop men from experiencing their own vices. The lure of Chaos is
everywhere, always tempting, turning, and twisting the lives of the common citizen.All gods actively
encourage such spiritual corruption, with Slaanesh said to be the best at it.
The Lure of Chaos: The reasons for joining Chaos are many. Some desire power and lack the scruples to
care how they receive it. Others are bored out of their minds, given to despair, or fear Chaos enough
that they believe the only way to survive is to serve it. Ambition is a very common motivator that
includes vengeance, envy, greed, perfectionism or simply the desire to give oneself a better life. Quite a
few have no idea what they are getting into and might be peer-pressured into or are misled by a trusted
friend. Some opportunists are easily won; others hard to get.
They were following the same route as they had taken the previous day on the way to the walls, and
yet the place looked already altered. Buildings, houses and shops that had looked barely half-built only
the day before now stood virtually intact, their construction completed with incredible speed. Then there
were other buildingsthose that had been already standingthat now appeared partly demolished,
broken down for no obvious purpose other than to accommodate the new, partly-built structures
growing up out of their midst. Some of the new structures were recognizable in shape. Othersbizarre
lattice-works of alabaster marble twisting about one another like sleeping serpentswere not.
Everything, every edifice, was competing with others for the increasingly precious space around the
citadel.
Its getting out of control, Stefan said quietly to Bruno. The place is feeding upon itself. The growth
cant be contained.
Why do they keep building? Bruno asked, awed and perplexed in equal measure. They must see that
theyre starting to tear the place apart?

Stefan turned to his friend in the shadows of the wagon. Who knows? he said. But my senses tell me
that Konstantin and Anaise have unleashed something here that they cannot now undo.
()
This cold early morning he seemed to see Sigmarsgeist as he had never seen it before. The citadel was
his: Sigmarsgeist was his creation, his child. But now, with the wind blowing off the hills setting a cruel
chill into his limbs, he began to see that creation for what it truly was. Instead of order, he saw anarchy.
He counted dozens of new houses and workshops which had not existed the day before, new buildings
that had sprung up across the city almost literally overnight. But equally there were dozens more that
appeared to have been destroyed for no reason, burst open like cracked, discarded shells and new, halffinished structures emerging from the ruins like jagged teeth.
The streets of the city were full, as they always now seemed to be. But where before Konstantin had seen
only labour and purposeful endeavour, he now saw discord and strife. Men and women clashed upon the
roads and walkways of the citadel, elbowing one another out of the way, jostling for what limited space
remained. So many people, too many. He could hear their voices raised, a tumult of sound rising to the
high towers of Sigmarsgeist. And what for so long had sounded in his ears as exaltation now rang with
bitter anger. He saw the White Guard amongst them, staffs and clubs raised as well as voices. Many he
no longer recognised. Even the guard were passing beyond his control.
Most of all, wrapped around nearly two thirds of the city like a choking weed, were the structures of fibre
and bone that no mortal hand had built. Walls that blocked off streets; walkways and bridges that ended
in empty space. Flights of steps that vanished into the ground without entrances or exits. A madness had
seized hold of Sigmarsgeist, a touch of Chaos, and this was its physical form.
Had it come so suddenly, or had the change been so gradual, so stealthy, that it had crept upon him
without his noticing? Or was it simply that he had tried so hard, and for so long, not to see what was
unravelling before his very eyes? Taint of Evil
These individuals often congregate in likeminded cults, who then scheme in secret to further the work
of their dark masters. Such cults, as to be discussed shortly, are one of the greatest means of internal
disruption Chaos has available.
Corruption can be extremely difficult to analyze and even more so to manage. This is because its basis is
on the individual level, by personality and spirit, rather than any mundane thing like position, prestige,
health etc. A young, fit nobleborn with a selfish personality and desire to experience the myriads of
pleasure in life might be more at risk than a poor old man serving as a sergeant in his armies. However
there are some common themes that I have found in analyzing Chaos for Warhammer Fantasy that
might serve as a means to determine how prevalent it is in an opposing force.

Below are traits that matter and vary between individual, to determine their susceptibility to Chaos.

1. Emotional Extremes: Those with a tendency to more emotional extremes are going to be more likely
to gravitate towards the malign influence of Chaos then those without. For example an extremely bored
noble who is desperate for some stimulation to break the ennui of life would be more susceptible to
Slaanesh then a more content noble. In another example a warrior who gives into rage and bloodlust on
the battlefield is going to more likely gravitate towards Khorne then a disciplined warrior. Likewise a
scheming leader might embrace Tzeentch in order to plot intricate schemes to reach the top.
That said not everyone who gravitates towards emotional extremes is guaranteed for Chaos corruption;
it is just more likely. Indeed in the Sigmar novels by Graham McNeil the warrior king had many crazed
beserkers in his ranks that stayed loyal even when fighting against Khornates directly. Likewise Druichi
Lords and vampires are as scheming and power hungry as they come, yet few fall to Chaos.
2. Unselfishness/Selfishness: Those who desire power at any cost are going to be more susceptible to
giving themselves over to Chaos then those who are reluctant to take any action that might hurt their
comrades. This is shown prominently in Beastslayer, where the head Chaos Cultist struggles with
familiar attachment to his brother, the Duke of Praag, and the desire for advancement as an
assassination attempt comes to fruition. It should be noted that though these two are usually in conflict,
sometimes the forces of Chaos can be clever, and use blackmail or false promises to make it seem
dealing with them is in the interests of the Greater Good.
3. Strong willpower or overriding morals: Chaos is all about willpower, and just as its champions are
highly willful beings so too does this factor have an effect on corruption. The strong willed have a better
chance resisting the lure of Chaos then the weak willed. Strong morals or fanaticism to something
antithetical to Chaos helps greatly here too.

4. Rule: Its ALWAYS a

choice! It might seem strange
that powerful godlike beings
cannot force their will upon
others and create unwilling
servants, however the fact is
they either cant or won't. As a
rule the corrupted must always
make a conscious choice to be corrupted, and so far every god has followed this rule. When Sigvald met
Slaanesh in the Realms of Chaos, the pleasure god offered him a choice. When Festus despaired and
asked aloud for the knowledge to cure all diseases, he was granted such in return for eternal servitude
to Nurgle. When Valkia seeks out future champions for Khorne she always makes it clear that it is their
choice to join her and her master. Even Tzeentch acknowledges such with Horstmann, as the quote
below shows.

"In return for what?

There is only one thing I want, said van Horstmann. You know what it is.
I do. And I can give it to you.
Van Horstmann swallowed, painfully. You can have whatever you want from the Light Order. Its vaults,
its magisters, anything.
I know, said the snake. But I am a god. I can take whatever I want from any ensorcelled vault in the
world, and destroy it with a whim. What do I care if you offer up a pyre of books to me?
Because the one thing you cannot take is willing obedience, replied van Horstmann. That must be given
freely. And so it is the only thing that a god can crave, for it is the only thing that is beyond Him.
True, said the snake, its forked tongue flickering. And indeed, I desire it. But you know full well what I
really want.
You cannot have it, said van Horstmann. I will no more pledge my soul to you than I would pledge it to
Sigmar. That is my one rule. Anything else you want, you will have. But not my soul. And it is not much
that I ask of you. Just a little information. Most of the path I have to take I have pieced together myself. I
just need a few more points on the map and I will never require anything more of you.
I will have your soul, Egrimm van Horstmann.
No, Lord Tzeentch. You will not. That is the deal I will make. That is the contract I will sign. Everything
short of my soul, for the knowledge I need to get what I want.
The snake seemed to consider this. It was hooded, like a venomous snake from the deserts of Araby or
the Southlands, and its eyes were like flecks of amber. Its tail flicked idly from side to side as it thought
about the offer.
That is satisfactory, said the Prince of Lies, known to some as Tzeentch, the Changer of Ways, or by any
one of a thousand names. It will be signed.
Van Horstmann closed his eyes and let out the breath he realised now he had been holding. Then tell
me, he said. Everything I must know. Tell me.
I impart this knowledge only because it suits me that you shall have your revenge, said the Prince of
Lies. All that happens will be because I will it. You must never forget that, Egrimm van Horstmann.
I know the terms of a deal made with you, said van Horstmann.
Then listen.
Van Horstmann would never be able to say afterwards just how long he lay there, listening to the snakes
words. It was quite possible they were imparted in an instant but that the effort needed to process them

in his mind meant it felt like hours. Or perhaps it really was hours, in the way that time can stretch and
be manipulated inside the mind.
Some of what he learned van Horstmann thought he knew already, but he was now free of doubts that
might have turned his hand away from what needed to be done. Some of it was completely unknown.
Some helped van Horstmann make the choice between two paths which had previously seemed equally
profitable or perilous. And a great deal of it seemed irrelevant, but was filed away by van Horstmann in
the fastidious library of his memory, knowing that it would be important one day.
There was always more, the Prince of Lies promised. Everything van Horstmann would ever need to know
to destroy his enemies. He could have anything he wanted. He could rule. He could create his own
kingdom out of the aethyr, a place founded on magic in which his will would become manifest and he
could reign as a god. But the price was too high. It was always the same van Horstmanns soul, the
means by which he could determine his own future. And he would not give that up." Van Horstmann
The Chaos Gods or their lackeys may use all sorts of tricks to achieve such willing participation. These
include blackmail, threats, emotional manipulation, mutation and madness, or something as mundane
as peer pressure. They can manipulate subconscious thoughts particularly in those with emotional
extremes. They might not even explain the contract completely, use slippery slopes or orchestrate
ultimatums like how Tzeentch later orchestrated a series of events that nearly led to Horstmann's death,
offering him life in servitude in exchange for life, or oblivion in death.
5. No Going Back: This is a bit self-explanatory. Once an individual willingly gives themselves to Chaos
redemption becomes impossible, for the gods now own the soul of the supplicant and can put greater
influence on it. Moreover any betrayal would be brutally punished and the one time I saw it occur (in
Beastslayer, where a Tzeentchi cultist foiled his cult in order to save his brother) that person was
destined for an eternity of torture.
After an individual receives the mark willingly their soul belongs to their daemon overlord. In order to
free their soul they would essentially have to wrest it from a god. This is why it is so incredibly difficult
for anyone in Warhammer Fantasy or 40k to come back from damnation as redemption is out of their
hands after a point. However there is a caveat. The Great Necromancer Nagash has managed to steal
the souls of Chaos champions once they are dead from their dieties, the most famous example being
Krell. Liber Necris specifies that stealing would in fact mean stealing (unseen, without the gods knowing
to contest the transaction until too late).

6. Corruption is Racist: In the Warhammer universe different species and their traits affect their
corruptibility. Humans are intentionally made out to be the most easily corruptible in the setting,
courtesy of our vices and difficulty in controlling them. By contrast the dwarfs of the setting, by virtue of
their stubborn nature, are exceedingly hard to corrupt as is the elves, courtesy of their extreme pride in
themselves (meaning to associate with warpborn trash like daemons would lower their standing!).

Lizardmen are extremely difficult to corrupt on the virtue of lacking personalities while the Skaven,
despite being scheme loving and greedy, are bound to the Horned Rat.
However this does not mean any of those races are impossible to corrupt. Indeed it is said in the setting
that nothing is incorruptible given enough time and effort, and this profile is full of examples of
corrupted Dwarfs, elves and ogres. They are just not as prevalent as men and are generally rare. It
should also be noted that, in Warhammer 40k at least, machines and AIs can be corrupted. Moreover
Chaos sometimes doesnt fully corrupt a race rather it may bring out its worse traits. For example the
period of the Sundering- when Slaanesh influences were prevalent among the soon to be Druichicombined with Khaines own influence helped mold the Druichi into a race of narcissistic, hedonistic
sociopaths. Though the Druichi were never controlled by Chaos and indeed fought against the Dark
Gods their existence and schemes caused much sorrow in the Warhammer World.
7. Culture of Corruption/State of Decay: Corruption is very much influenced by group culture with
certain cultural traits leading to more examples of corruption. For some this is extremely obvious, such
as how the Norscan love of warfare and historical worship of Chaos makes each member extremely
susceptible to fully embracing Chaos with all their soul (instead of their usual position of just serving and
worshiping but where they havent fully committed their souls yet). Others cultures are less obvious.
Elves are extremely resistant to Chaos, both in 40k and Fantasy, however in times where their culture
grows more decadent even they come to be at risk. In the time before the Sundering the Elves grew
decadent with a thousand year peace and significant cults emerged during this time, starting with minor
local pleasure gods before ultimately worshipping Slaanesh directly. Similar events occurred before the
Fall of the Eldar in 40k, which of course led to the birth of Slaanesh. Likewise periods of turmoil
particularly internal can see the desperate experiment with Chaos.
In modern day events the Empire, Cathay and the Kingdoms of Ind all showed themselves particularly
susceptible to Chaos, with cults being well entrenched in all places. All human nations experienced
potent internal difficulties in the End Times. By contrast books shown during the time of Sigmar or
Khemri before, when glorious empires had yet to decay, internal Chaos corruption was shown to be less
of a problem, though still existent. A likely reason for this is because those civilizations, at the time,
were bright and new and had yet to be decayed by time, though other contributing factors certainly
existed as well.
In short when a culture or civilization is stagnant, decayed, in internal crisis or possess in abundance the
traits Chaos is looking for, the more effect Chaos is likely to have. When a civilization is new, guided by
strong morals or principles instead of selfish mortal desires then it might make less an impact, though
never entirely nonexistent.
8. Vigilance/Repression: Vigilance and internal espionage can serve as a means to lessen the amounts
of Chaos corruption, though never deplete it completely. For example the Empire has a number of
witch hunters striving every day to root out corruption where they see it, burning mutants, destroying
cults and putting a clamp on Chaos operations. Brettonia and Kislev are also incredibly vigilant in the

sweep for Chaos. The Inquisition of Warhammer 40k serves the same measure, sometimes annihilating
whole planets that seemingly harbor corruption.
Now one can argue that such measures serve as short term and not long term solution. For example
despite having such suppression techniques in place for hundreds (or, in the case of the 40k Inquisition,
thousands of years) Chaos has never been entirely rooted out, just suppressed. And with increasing
difficulty every year. At the same time it is also clear that in all examples listed above many, many
innocents are put to death by overzealous internal security forces.
Other times such heavy handedness may actually have the opposite reaction intended by pushing
people towards Chaos. For example Liber Chaotica notes the extreme stigma that the diseased face in
Warhammer society and their lack of rights or care. The belief that the sick are tained spiritually results
in the afflicted being hated, ostracized and killed at times. Such stigma, hatred, distrust and lack of
compassion only aid in increasing the individuals despair, making them ultimately more susceptible to
Nurgle. Indeed, when religious figures and Witch Hunters of the Empire preach at the sick that they are
already damned and unclean, what then do the afflicted have to risk by actually calling upon Nurgle for
release?
9. Time: An obvious trait Chaos does need time to draw willing servants to them and cannot do so as
fast as it would take to inflict mutation or possession. The rewards however are far greater here than in
any previous case. Various factors (the ones seen above and below) can shorten the amount of time and
effort required and of course having skilled in spreading corruption such as Von Horstmann.
10. Corruption & the Divine: To an extent belief in the divine can mitigate the effects of Chaos
corruption, as mortals bind their souls or beliefs to a more powerful divine being. This is why the Witch
Hunters fanatically worship Sigmar as they seek to purge Chaos from their lands. Sigmar gives them
strength and through such strength a greater resistance to Chaos. For evil gods Chaos Dwarfs and
Skaven have few that are corrupted by the Four, for their souls are already completely bound to Hashtut
and the Horned Rat respectively. Khaine too gave some protection to his murderous blood elves while
he lived. When the Murder God died that was when his followers became vulnerable to the Blood Gods
influence.
This does not mean that those with no gods or weak faith are automatically corrupted- if their morals
and will are strong resistance is possible.

In addition to the above factors effecting how receptive a civilization is to Chaos, the forces of Ruin also
utilize types of agents to try to spread it among the enemy. In the first wave-without native backingthese might be the insidious whispers of daemons or champions/sorcerers endowed with supernatural
charisma. One prolific cult establisher is Engrim Van Horstmann, who has seeded much of the old world
with cults. Later, if these agents manage to convert members of the populace, these members will take
the role of spreading corruption.
EFFECTS:
In a campaign corruption, even without factoring in the cults, can range from annoying to downright
deadly. On the low level it can result in sabotage, infiltration and paranoia among enemy ranks, along
with the possibility of some defection. If in a fortified town the gates might be left mysteriously open
right before a Chaos attack. At higher levels of corruption this problem can become almost crippling,
with effects ranging from mass Chaos instigated revolt, assassination, and even a nation or army
grinding to a halt.
In the early End Times Cathay was crippled by its Tzeentch riddled bureaucracy sabotaging and delaying
any attempt at reinforcing a breach in the Grand Bastion. By the time the emperor finally executed the
disruptive bureaucracy, it was too late to repel the invaders for Chaos had already broken down their
fortifications. In Southern Ind, meanwhile, entire cities revolted as massive pleasure cults took to the
streets, helping to result in that part of the subcontinent being overrun.

One of the major objectives of Chaos Warbands is to engage in acts of mass sacrifice, where they
slaughter sometimes thousands of captives at once to the Chaos Gods. Sometimes it is standard
slaughter; sometimes the victims must be slain in a unique way pleasing to the god. This influx of souls
sent screaming to the void for consumption serves to empower their deities, who then are more likely
to look upon favorably their supplicants actions. In this state the gods are more likely to reward their
worshippers with mutations (or, if too much, accidental spawndom), summoned entities or weapons. If
the god is particularly pleased it might even reward the commander with the ultimate ascension into
daemon prince.
More than that such massive sacrifice of souls can be used to empower massive rituals which, though
often lasting several days in length can create a significant campaign wide advantage. Several times in
Warhammer history massive sacrifices and harnessing of magic have allowed for the summoning of
enormous hordes of daemons or the quick corruption of a great deal of land. In one spectacular
example the Bray-shaman Malagor, using uncounted sacrifice and the winds of change blowing at a
tempest, changed much of the livestock of the Empire into Beastmen.
The amount of sacrifices needed to empower some of these most spectacular feats of magic is immense
or, in some cases, extremely specific. For example the Harbinger- another Beastman shaman- sacrificed
seven rare fellow Bray-Shaman to summon a horde of a thousand daemons. Oftentimes it is time
consuming, such as in Glottkin Festus Leechlord spent weeks working in secret in the sewers of Altdorf,
stealthily capturing homeless captives for sacrifice and inventing new plagues. Then, when the armies of

Nurgle surrounded the city, the Leechlord unleashed his super spell, summoning many thousands of
daemons if not tens of thousands of daemons including at least one greater daemon in the heart of the
city.
Other examples: Morathi of the Dark Elves once held a "spectacularly orgasmic ritual" involving lots of
sacrifice to summon "sixty troupes of six daemonettes" to unleash upon the enemy. In the Blade of
Chaos series a low-level shaman used a vat of boiling blood, done through ritual, to summon 10-20
bloodletters. The higher the level of Daemons the more required to summon, and a bloodthirster
generally needs several days of simultaneous bloodletting and hundreds sacrificed in his name. A Keeper
of Secrets would require sixty virgin sacrifices for example and done in a specific way. Animal sacrifices,
specific ingredients, and knowing a daemon's true name can all factor into this.
The weaknesses of rituals are many, however. In order to power the most spectacular of them a great
number of sacrifices, or else rare specific ones, are required. These rituals are usually time consuming
and can be easily disrupted. They can be hard to achieve the ingredients for. That said, in the End Times
with all the excess magic, it has become somewhat easier for these rituals. Rituals or summoning spells
are not the only means by which daemons can appear thanks to the sheer amount of Chaos energy out
there they can sometimes manifest on their own (or their gods)will.

It should also be noted that corruption is different from consumption. The latter refers to a daemon
entity devouring whole the soul without any form of consent. The act of devouring souls does give the
daemonic entity and its divine master a slight power boost as the creature absorbs souls and then
utilizes it for energy (in the form of physical stat boost or magic). Such consumption of souls is a
common mechanism in rituals, where souls are sacrificed to provide a power source for the magical
mechanisms. This mechanism is not exclusive to demons.

In the End Times the great necromancer Nagash sacrificed thousands of souls to blot out the sun in his
campaign to destroy Khemri. Later he summoned a small army of the dead and, having run out of
energy to conduct his battlefield spells, was sacrificing souls left and right as power fuel. This showcase
the weakness of consumed souls; it is a finite resource easily expended that must constantly be
replenished. Add to this is Chaoss tendency towards extremes and mass expenditure during the Great
Game that dominates the Warp, and Chaos must always be on the search for more souls. As the souls
of people are composed of the same emotions that the gods are both composed of and were formed by
(for example, Lust for Slaanesh) souls are thus the gasoline that the gods run on, and without souls they
would eventually perish.
Corruption meanwhile is a long term investment. When an individual is corrupted, when they freely and
willfully dedicate their souls to Chaos, they then dedicate their very existence to their masters
purpose. A corrupted individual will wander the lands engaging in as bloodletting, debauchery, plague

spreading or schemes. They will freely attempt to convince more individuals to join their ranks,
spreading corruption, or else sacrifice the unwilling to their daemonic deities. As these mortal
champions through the ranks they strive to ascend into the ultimate tribute of their deities; an immortal
daemon prince.
To use an analogy, the consumption of souls is akin to coal; something that burns bright but is quickly
expended. Corruption is akin to solar energy, something that might not offer much energy immediately
but with greater gains over time. The Chaos Gods are aware of this and though they may treat their
corrupted servants in a notoriously fickle fashion- ignoring or damning them as they please- they
ultimately view corruption, the offering of a soul freely given, as the greatest gifts they can receive. This
is why Chaos gods place such an emphasis on (willing) corruption.

Despair all ye nations, deny not that were sick,

For our Blood is like water where once it was thick.
And our minds have grown leaden, our bodies gone weak,
And venom pours from our lips whenever we speak.

Despair all ye nations, for the time draws apace,

When the rot of the cynic shall steal our good grace.
And our sweetest of dreams shall fade to lost hope,
Our pride and our arrogance; our noose and our rope.

Despair all ye nations, see the years drawing on,

Our great cultures are fading and soon theyll be gone.
So conceited our scholars, they jeer through their teeth,
With their theories so shallow - quite soulless beneath.

Despair all ye nations, for the ending is near,

When the Lord of Lost Heart shall govern us with fear.
Our weakness unfetters as we face this unknown,
And our faith trails to nothing; we stand here alone.

Despair all ye nations, the Corrupter has come,

And the sad days of this world are nearing their sum.
For the shining ideals through endeavours we sought,
Grow sour as he passes and are coming to nought.

Despair all ye nations, theres no hope for us now,

For we made this monster, placed a crown on his brow.
He fed on our apathy; our pain made him swell,
We gave him Dominion, he gives us his Hell.
Nurgle, Lord of Decay and Despair, knows that by choice few mortals would turn willingly and embrace
his cause. In the Great Game of Souls this would put him at an disadvantage, for his opponents would
quickly outmuscle and outnumber him into oblivion. This is why the Chaos God invented a scheme of his
own to skirt the rules of corruption, to draw mortals to him by force and alter their minds via
circumstance so that they ultimately willingly give into his embrace. Such a plan would combine his need
for souls with Nurgles love of life, no matter how small or large, for Nurgle cares more for the amount
rather than the quality. Thus plagues and disease were born.
At some point in our lives we all come to realize that there are things in this world beyond our ability to
control things that we are powerless to resist or change.
As young children our world seems small and simple; we play, eat, sleep and bicker. Our lives stretch out
before us and we have no real conception of how decay will affect us. But as time passes we learn more
about ourselves and the world around us, and we start to see the harsher realities of life. We see that our
bodies are ageing and understating at last that youth (as with so many other things) is finite. Most
importantly of all, we learn that there is nothing at all we can do about this state of affairs; be we
athletic or apathetic, or be we saints or sinners, we shall all age and die in time. As will our friends. As
will our families.
It is the unfortunate paradox of life, therefore, that with wisdom comes sorrow. To know ourselves for
what we are is to know ourselves for what we are no longer, and for what we might yet become. A man
or a woman in their mid-life might rub a painful knee in damp weather and remember sombrely the
careless vibrancy of youth. But from this sad reminiscence how small a step is it to an outright cynical
appraisal of the future? So the ravages of time, and therefore decay, can make us feel melancholy or
bitter, but worst of all they can sometimes make us feel helpless.
The step from helplessness to bitterness is often a small one, and it is often an all too easy thing to then
step even further into despair whether this despair is explicit, or whether it is implicit. It is from this
hopelessness and despair that I believe the Lord of Decay found his beginnings. Magister Kant, The Fall
of Nations
Diseases bring decay, the degradation of the body and, accompanying the body, so often the spirit.
When a victim acquires smallpox and is afflicted head to toe with painful bumps and boils weakness and
vitality rapidly deteriorate. When a victim of arthritis or polio acquires weakened or crippled mobility, it
is a decay of the bodys capacity to sustain itself. Under these conditions, the sudden loss of capacity
combined with the knowledge of a hard life ahead along with the fear of death, who wouldnt

experience some despair? In such circumstances some might be desperate enough to consider extreme
means to return vitality to either themselves or a loved one.
Disease crosses all barriers. It breaches the mightiest defenses, striking the corrupt and innocent alike.
There is no protection, and no matter how a penitent prays and pleads, disease strikes down the mighty
and meek alike. So, in the face of such capricious power, it is no wonder that Humans succumb to the
dark mutterings in their minds and search for some succor from the discomfort of their bodies rebelling
against them. It is the most hopeless and desperate who turn to the cold comfort of Old Father Nurgles
embrace.

Though the sick are not automatically corrupted by their afflictions, eventually out of total despair some
might turn to Nurgle for deliverance. The Plague God never cures them rather he provides supplicants
comfort within their suffering and purpose within their miserable state. As Nurgle is also the god of selfdelusion, denial and insecurity (according to Liber Chaotica) the supplicants minds become warped into
believing that they are special, gifted, and that they should spread this gift to others.
The potency of plagues are affected by several factors. One is individual toughness; how durable or
resilient a person is that signifies a powerful immune system. Despite the odd, somewhat supernatural
nature of the effects of these diseases, all the standard traits effecting real world potency and spread of
diseases applies here. These include the individuals health, access to medicine, hygiene, sleep, diet,
exercise etc. Basically all the things recommended for good physical and mental health by doctors can
lessen the impact of plague, though nevera void it. As a mundane example in The Butchers Beast a
Great Sworders regiment that was noted to be unique in washing its uniforms after every battle was

stated to lose less men to plagues than any other unit. Magical protection and healing, too, can help in
dealing with plagues. Just like in the real world some diseases are more potent than others.
When Nurgle unleashes his plagues there is not only the risk of death from disease or corruption. These
plagues also target animals and crops of the environment, bringing pestilence. They turn wells of water
into pits of noxious slime and combined with mutation turn the land into a hellish existence. There are
even reports that plague zombies can arise of the victims of the recently dead to spread the contagion
among the living.

Plaguelords vs Pestilens: It is often speculated as to what exactly is the difference between Nurgles
plagues and those of Clan Pestilens. It is primarily intent. Nurgle, the lover of despair, seeks to use his
plagues primarily as a means to inflict corruption and anguish. His plagues are incredibly varied and
somewhat random in application, for despair can come from both deadly and mundane diseases. Add to
this Nurgles claimed love of life and he doesnt always care what disease his followers unleash, so long
as plagues and diseases are unleashed. That is not to say the Plaguelords diseases are not deadly for
they certainly are, only that the infliction of death is (usually) a secondary objective.
Pestilens meanwhile is entirely focused on the infliction of death, for to them plagues are not an end
but rather a means to it, albeit a means that they focus on religiously. The objective of Pestilens is the
supremacy of their clan, the Horned Rat, and Skavendom, in that order. Thus the most categorically
fatal known outbreaks in the world- the Black Plague of the Empire and the Red Pox of Brettonia- were
both Skaven creations. Undoubtedly Nurgle benefitted some from the despair and misery brought on by
the plague yet there are no accounts of a significant Nurgle uprising during these times.
Both philosophies bring their advantages and disadvantages. Like the Skaven themselves Pestilens
diseases move fast, indiscriminately and with maximized lethality. Nurgles diseases meanwhile are
slower and more debilitating, representative of the steady decay of mortal vitality. Not only do Nurgles

diseases bring death and debilitation but they bring greater and more prolonged despair. Through his
plagues Nurgle has a means to both acquire more followers and, through the legendary Nurgles Rot,
even directly create more daemons.
Example Nurgle Diseases (From Tome of Corruption):
Bone Ague: This virulent plague causes the victims bones to twist and warp, forcing them to grow in
some places, and wither in others. Transmitted by air, this horror has wiped out entire communities,
leaving malformed carcasses in its wake.
Creeping Buboes: What begins as a reddish sore in a tender area spreads all over the body in a matter of
hours. After a day, the buboes burst, and drip a foul-smelling, black bile. This is an old disease, and some
believe it was part, if not all, of the terrible plague that spread through the Empire in the twelfth
century. This disease spreads through fleabites and has the potential to be fatal .
Eye Rot: This strange disease is believed to originate from the steaming jungles of Lustria, brought back
to the Old World in the fifteenth century. Rare now, it seems to be spread by the touch of Plague
Bearers alone. When a victim catches Eye Rot, he experiences painful headaches as fluid fills his
eyeballs, causing them to bulge and shudder in their sockets. Many of the afflicted pierce their eyes with
knives to ease the pain, spraying the diseased fluid in all directions.
As long as the eye is filled with fluid, the victim experiences distorted vision. Should the victim succumb
to the disease the eyes explode, blinding the victim permanently. Queerly, the eyes are said to wait to
explode until someone is near.
Grey Fever: The real tragedy of this terrible plague is that most people do not recognize it as a disease.
The symptoms are nearly identical to madness. And so, these individuals are locked away in an asylum
where they spread it to the other inmates. The disease then spreads to the doctors and nurses, and
ravages the entire place until everyone is either dead or mad. Grey Fever is marked by a wasting of the
victims brain, resulting in hallucinations, eventually dementia, and finally a deep coma. Those who
might recover from this disease are often driven mad by it, or by their new surroundings if they are left
in one of the Empires horrible asylums.
The Shakes: The dreaded Shakes crops up now and again along coastal regions. Victims experience a
high fever and uncontrollable shaking fits. In time, the afflicted can no longer control his bodily
movements as tremors rock his body, which prevents sleeping, eating, and generally functioning. Those
who cannot kill themselves will probably dehydrate if they do not resist this plague.
Example Pestilens Diseases (From Children of the Horned Rat)
Boil Lurgy: causes fluid-filled sacs to grow all over the body and causes death in 13 days.
The Rot Worms: These are the larval form of a rat-spread parasite that lays its eggs in human flesh. The
larvae hatch and literally eat their way to the surface.

Estalian Fever: causes the blood to slow and the patient to lose all mobility until he lacks the strength
even to eat.
Red Pox: Seems to be Warhammer Fantasys version of Smallpox.
The Vermillion Curse: covers the skin in purple lines before the victim chokes on his own blood,
Saint Ehrlichs Fire: makes the patient burn with fever while hallucinating of hellish torments. Though
this diseases is not usually fatal, often the victims kill themselves as they become convinced they are
damned by their own sins.
In campaign Nurgles Rot can have debilitating effects. Not only can it bring people in through
corruption and debilitate survivors but it can cause serious causalities. They will utilize these plagues to
devastate crops, poison wells, weaken a besieged population or enemy army, and create more followers
among those desperate to appeal to Nurgle for relief. In the Siege of Aldorf this cumulated in the
Empires forces being reduced to 2/3rds strength right before the actual battle started. When Nurgle is
the ascendant god these plagues can become extremely powerful, as the examples for Siege of Altdorf
show.
Plague has reached the city, said Zintler. Barely two-thirds of the men capable of carrying a sword can
still lift one. It will only get worse.
Helborg nodded grimly. Similar reports were coming in from all across Altdorf. Despite guarding the
water supplies tightly, something was infecting the poorer quarters and spreading out to the garrisons.
The air itself was foul, and carried an edge of bitterness when the wind blew.
The walls? Helborg asked, peering over the edge to look at them for himself.
The northern gate had been built up and augmented over hundreds of years, and was now a vast pile of
age-darkened stone, crested with gunnery emplacements and the snarling golden gargoyles of griffons
and lions. Bulwarks and kill-points jostled with one another in a cunning series of funnelling formations.
By the time an enemy got anywhere close to the gates themselves, they would have been pummelled by
artillery and ranged magic, doused in boiling oil and pelted with building rubble, then finally
overwhelmed by sorties streaming out from hidden posterns all along the ingress way.
At least, that was how it had been in the past, when the Empires armies were more numerous than the
sands on the grey Nordland shore. Now Helborg doubted whether he had enough able bodies to occupy
more than half the defensive positions available to him.
The walls are crumbling, said Zintler flatly. He reached over to the top of the battlements and prised a
section of mortar from the joints. It disintegrated between his finger and thumb. Once again, Helborg
smelled the stench of rot.
It cant be crumbling, Helborg muttered. This is granite from the Worlds Edge peaks.
The Rot, said Zintler, as if that explained everything.

They were already referring to the Rot in the streets the malaise that seemed to spread through
everything, spoiling milk, fouling foodstuffs, infecting living flesh.
()
The trees around them shivered, and strange beasts crept out from the shadows wolves with swollen
bellies and sore-thick jowls, bears with split torsos and glistening ribcages, goat-like horrors with eyeless
faces and dribbling withers. The whole of nature had been perverted, and the coming of the Glottkin
roused them all from whatever dank pit of misery they had curled into.
()
Vlad rode at the head of his skeletal vanguard, looking about with distaste at the corruption of his land.
Creepers twisted across the road, all bearing virulent fruits that burst with acid when trodden down. The
soil itself seethed with fungi and clinging mosses, all striving with perverted fecundity to assert
themselves against the foul growths around them.
This was life in all its disgusting, liquid excess. Even as a mortal man he would have found such violent
displays of fertility alarming. As a lord of undeath, committed to the austere night-world of his Master, it
was almost more than he could bear to endure it.
()
The rain had started to fall soon after the enemy had arrived. At first it had been like any other deluge,
though soon the drops became heavier and heavier, until it was like trying to fight under a hail of mud
splatters. Every exposed surface became greasy and treacherous, fouling the cannon wheels as they
were rolled out and making men slip and stagger.
()
Just below Ghurks hooves, the terrain fell away sharply in terraces of foliage-clogged undulation. The
Reik valley had widened since Carroburg, and was now a broad, shallow bowl. The land had once been
cultivated across the flat floodplain, but now the crops rotted in their drills, reeking with a subtle aroma
that Otto found immensely pleasing. Everywhere he looked, the forest had crept past its ancient bounds,
smothering everything. The new growths had taken on a wild variety of hues pus-yellow, olive-green,
the pulsing crimson of blood-blisters. Above it all, the clouds still churned, making the air as thick and
humid as half-warmed tallow.
()
The river had almost entirely turned into a glutinous slurry, and it barely lapped its own banks any more.
Huge vines had slithered out of the encroaching tree-cover and extended into the water, making what
remained even more viscous.
Otto smirked as he saw the transformation. The god he served was a mighty god indeed. The very earth
had been poisoned, the waters thickened, the growing things perverted and sent thrusting into feral

parodies of themselves. There was no resisting this it was the wearing weight of entropy, the
corruption of all purity, the glorious potential of the sick, the foul, the decaying.
()
Helborg paced the battlements, his fist clenched tight on his undrawn sword-hilt, his cheek almost
unbearably painful, his mood black. The foul slime-rain continued to lance down from the churning skies,
swilling across every stone surface and making footing treacherous. Archers slipped when they loosed
their darts, gunners lost their footing with every recoil. The deluge got into eyes, wormed its way under
collars and beneath breastplates. When it touched bare skin, it burned like acid, and several troopers had
fallen to their deaths while frantically trying to rip the armour from their bodies.
- The Fall of Altdorf

Of all the plagues and diseases in existence Nurgles Rot,

known often simply as the Rot, is his crowning achievement.
Combining all the worst symptoms of the diseases in the world,
capable of simultaneously effecting the mind, body and soul,
Nurgles Rot is a mixture of physical aliment and daemonic
possession in plague form. It is extremely contagious, being
able to spread mostly through physical contact however
fortunately those capable of possessing the disease are rare.In
the comic Condemned by Fire Nurgle cultists used the water
supply to infect a local populace. Though in older editions of
Warhammer Fantasy it could be spread through the air, these
aspects of it seems rare or have been toned down, for if the
Rot could truly spread in such a manner the Old World would
fall!
According to Liber Chaotica when a victim acquires the Rot the
early stages of the disease begins by attacking the mind,
twisting the thoughts and feelings by manipulating the
chemical balance of the brain. In this manner it acts like a

possessing daemon, twisting thoughts and instilling mental disorders (such as depression, paranoia,
schizophrenia etc). The body begins to bloat and mutate even as the hosts beliefs and personality is
forcibly changed.
Perhaps the most horrifying aspect of the Rot is that even as the host is ravaged by the affliction, a tiny
pod grows in the Realm of Souls. As the Rot continues to allow the victim to mutate and suffer- but
never die from it- this pod grows larger and larger. Eventually, when the victim finally submits to Nurgle,
this pod bursts and a new Plaguebearer- the victim- bursts out even as the hosts original body now
resembles the daemon s/he turned into.
Though willpower can resist the speed of Nurgles Rot, no known person in either Warhammer Fantasy
or 40k has beaten Nurgles Rot through willpower alone. Even Vlad Von Carstein, patriarch of the most
powerful vampire lineage, could not fight it off completely when he caught it. He lingered for years
before he had to die and resurrect to succeed in being cured- at least temporarily. The only cure to
Nurgles Rot is extremely powerful divine magic spells or death. Indeed victims have been known to go
on suicide runs against the enemy rather than fall to Nurgles disease.

Tzeentch, god of Change and Plots, is especially eager to interfere in

the mortal world in his endless quest for change. Such love of plotting
and schemes trickles down to his daemonic servants and mortal
followers. Their plots and webs run deep and their influence spans the
entire course of Warhammer history. They are exceedingly good

manipulators, particularly when it comes to playing upon negative emotions of their foes (which, as
described in a earlier section, they might be able to see in a form of Daemonsight). Some of the
greatest tragedies in history or the greatest triumphs of Chaos- came from Tzeentchian schemes. For
example in ages past a daemon changeling helped egg on a war between the Elves and the Dwarves that
ended up shattering both empires, though in truth Elven arrogance and Dwarf stubbornness was the
main catalyst.
Relent! Morgrim barked out. This bickering is disgraceful. The elgi are the enemy, save your anger for
them.
Moreks voice was barely a whisper and within it was a quality Morgrim had never heard before, a sound
of terror. There are older enemies than the elgi. Morek held forth the artefact that had so caught
Drogors attention. It was something hed retrieved from the darkest vaults of Karaz-a-Karak, something
locked away among the trophies of Snorri Whitebeard. It was a simple thing, just a feather, but as he
held it towards Drogor, the object began to pulse and vibrate with scintillating colours.
Drogors face twisted into a monstrous leer. In a single bound he reached the bottom of the steps, not
even seeming to feel the impact as his armoured weight cracked one of the flagstones beneath him.
Another spring brought him before Morek. Deftly he snatched the feather out of the runelords hand.
What a clever maggot, Drogor hissed in a voice that no longer even possessed an echo of the dwarfs
tones.
Morek raised his runestaff, the metal rod already glowing with power, but a single blow of Drogors hand
sent the dwarf hurtling across the chamber. He slammed into the far wall to crash in a heap among the
rubble. Rundin rushed at him next, only to receive similar treatment.
I thought I lost this somewhere, Drogor said. He pressed the glowing feather against his cape. The
feathers shifted, pulling themselves aside to allow the new one to join them. As it attached itself, the
entire garment began to pulse and throb with a dazzling prism of colours.
Numb with horror, Morgrim couldnt find the voice to howl a war-cry as he charged the thing he had
called Drogor. His foe slashed out at him with a hand suddenly tipped with vulturine talons and fitted to
an arm three times its original length. The monstrous limb caught Morgrim by the neck and thrust him
against the ceiling.
Does this mean we arent friends any more? Drogor mocked. The dwarfs face was slowly melting, flesh
dripping in obscene streams into his beard. To be honest, your compassion was becoming tedious. I was
thinking youd make a better martyr than a leader. A much better force to push the war forward. He
cocked his corroding head to one side. Clusters of eyes had begun to sprout from the gleaming bone of
his exposed skull. These fixed Morgrim with a quizzical stare.
What was that you asked? Drogor wondered. He relaxed his grip enough that Morgrim was able to
drag a breath into his gasping lungs.
You did this, Morgrim moaned. You goaded us into war with the elgi.

A ghastly, bubbling laugh wheezed from the mush of Drogors face. You did this to yourselves, he
cackled. I am simply a spectator. It was your pride and stubbornness that brought war to your peoples.
Now it will go on and on until you are both wasted, ruined shells of what you were. What delight more
delicious than watching enemies destroy themselves? If only everything could be so obliging!-Curse of
the Phoenix Crown
Many Tzeentchian planners have been gifted with foresight or the ability to see into the future (or
past). This is described, in Liber Chaotica, as a series of strands and webs that reflect on a myriad of
possible futures and outcomes, while the past is reflected in a single, linear thread. The more gifted the
sorcerer, the more of the past and future can be perceived, with Lords of Change being able to look at
countless strands of fate at once.
Through manipulation of strands and emotions Tzeentchs followers are renowned for being able to use
servants of the other gods and even the most ardent enemies in their plans. For example, in addition to
their role in the Elven-Dwarf conflict followers of Tzeentch influenced increasingly contentious religious
divides between the followers of the God Ulric and those of Sigmar, resulting in disunity in the Empire.
In another instance the Changeling gave Imperial Supreme Patriarch Gelt advice in magic that allowed
the wizard to create a magical cage over all of Sylvannia to cage the vampires.
Other times Tzeentchs manipulations result in extreme sabotage. In Cathay, for example, Tzeentchi
cults buried within the bureaucracy paralyzed Cathays armies in the crucial early months of a Chaos
invasion or when Van Horstmann temporarily crippled the Imperial Colleges through betrayal.
Assassination, misdirection, organized uprising, disunity, spreading of mutation and more are the means
that Tzeentch can disrupt his foes. And of course, in the most infamous scene in all of the End Times,
daemonic whispers from servants of the gods ultimately convinced Mannfred von Carstein to commit
the single greatest act of treachery the world has ever known.
Mannfred von Carstein slipped into the ritual chamber to find the Incarnates labouring before the
shrinking rift. He recognised at once what the Incarnates were attempting, and silently applauded their
audacity, if not their instinct for survival. Self-sacrifice was not a trait that the erstwhile Lord of Sylvania
admired.
Dismounting Ashigaroth, Mannfred silently commanded the beast to remain out of sight, and picked his
way through the corpse-strewn chamber. So far as the vampire could tell, there was nothing alive in the
chamber save for the Incarnates. There was also a sizable zombie host whose enchantments bore all of
Nagashs powerful yet refined hallmarks, but their rudimentary senses were easily clouded by one such
as Mannfred.
On Mannfred pressed through the chambers flickering light, his motives teetering back and forth. He
told himself that the Dark Gods were whispering to him as they must have done to Kemmler, Harkon
and all those others who had laboured in Nagashs service but the truth was that he could no longer
tell the difference between his own embittered pride and the gods venomous words. Even when he had
served Nagash, he had seen precious little reward. Indeed, humiliation had been heaped upon him time
and again. Perhaps it was better to be the right hand of anarchy than a slave to mindless order.

Vlads final words had driven Mannfred to this place, had convinced him to take a stand against the
forces of Chaos. However, with every step he took through the corpse-choked chamber, the vampire
became less sure of his intentions. Did he really want to re-enter Nagashs service, for that was what his
chosen course surely entailed assuming any of them survived the next few moments? And could he
really bear to consider the Incarnates his equals let alone his superiors? Vlad had been ready to do so,
but Vlad had always been a sentimental fool.
By the time he reached the rift, and the ring Incarnates gathered around it, Mannfred had come to his
decisionEnd Times Archaon
That said the schemes of Tzeentch have several notable weakness, the first of which can be found in
foresight. Users of Foresight will see multiple possible futures but only one can come into reality.
Though these farseers can, if gifted enough, use their knowledge of the past to guess which outcomes
are likely in the future these are still guesses and these guesses might miss possible outcomes, come too
late for the farseer to react in time or even be prone to sabotage. Even one as gifted in foresight as
Kalros Fateweaver, a vizer of Tzeench who sees things even his master cannot see, lost first to an
Imperial wizard and then failed to predict in time Archaons betrayal. It is noted after all that not even
Tzeentch has flawless foresight.
Secondly the schemers of Tzeentch are prone to multiple issues, making them an incredible doubleedged sword. They often underestimate opponents and overestimate their own ability, and are
routinely foiled. Sometimes unintended consequences can result in the schemes backfire, like when
the vampires studied the superspell used to contain Sylvannia and gave Gelt a variant of the same spell
that was used to temporarily wall off the norther. There is no comradery among Tzeentchi sorcerers and
with each having interlocking schemes often these schemes get strangled, gleefully, in each others
webs . Sometimes Tzeentch himself foils his own servants schemes for his own unknown purposes. If
these schemes wreak havoc on Tzeentchs own forces they are more destructive yet on the plots of
those of their fellow Chaos allies and many a Chaos plot has been undone by the schemes of Tzeentch.
Even Archaon has nearly been foiled at times in his quest by the servants of the changer, which is a
major reason he despises the god.
In short Tzeentchi planners can be both a boon and a weakness or both at once, courtesy of the fickle
nature of fate (Tzeentch).

Warpstone is the corruptive essence of chaos (or

aethyr) solidified into physical form, highly sought
after for its alchemical and energy uses. Though

Chaos does not make as prolific use of the rock as the Skaven they have been known to make heavy use
of it. Warriors of Chaos and Beastmen might smear warpstone shards over their weapons so that every
wound brings the risk of contamination and mutation. Wizards have utilized this rock to bolster their
magical skill.
Chaos also can use it is a more strategic sense. At least one Tzeentchi cult tried to spread it in a citys
water supply, which would have contaminated the whole city had the event not been foiled .Over a
period of time the warpstone will corrupt the land, mutate its inhabitants and drive others to madness.
Other times spreading warpstone throughout the land can aid in warping and corrupting it.
Still others have used it more creatively. One cult hid warpstone in tiny medicine vials and posed as
doctors to spread mutation and madness everywhere. Another, extremely clever cult ground and boiled
down warpstone into ink. They then printed a catalogue of murderers, their crimes and their weapons
of choice, for crime stories are just as popular in the Empire as they are in the real world . Soon after the
so called penny dreadful went on sale, people began going mad, becoming raving spiteful berserkers,
screaming and raging at anything or anyone who happened to be near.

Daemons, as aspects of negative emotions made manifest, give off magical auras while in the mortal
realm that, on the base level, help give them some magically enhanced durability. However these auras
go beyond just durability to projecting fields of extreme emotion outward onto their opponents,
discharging feelings of lust, rage, madness or despair though to date in lore these auras seem to be most
prevalent with followers of Slaanesh and, to a lesser extent, Khorne. These intangible auras appeal to
the subconscious mind and primal desires of those caught up in their field of effect. For example the
seduction fields of Slaanesh are representative of his follower's illusions, sorcerous beauty and lust
causing their servants to appear super-attractive to clouded eyes. The greater the daemon the greater
the aura, with Skarbrands aura being so great that some of his enemies actually turned upon each

other in bloodrage. These auras are also more effective on those with emotional extremes and in
environments corrupted by Chaos.
Nashriks hackles rose as he saw those lithe forms dance across the borderland between worlds,
springing across the heath in ecstatic gyrations. Supple and sensuous were the figures which now
capered among the ratmen, curvaceous bodies of pale, furless flesh with a husky scent of wanton desire.
Many of the ratmen forgot their fear, squeaking happily as they rushed forwards to embrace the
prancing figures. The strange laughter of the breeder-things tinkled across the field as they returned the
amorous charge of their admirers with a crimson flash of slashing claws and tearing pincers.
No elf or dryad, these hellish apparitions. Nashrik could smell the fell energies saturating the dancing
harridans, the abominable stink of blackest magic. Daemons. Creatures of the Outer Dark!
The stink of skaven blood made Nashriks warriors belatedly recognize their peril. The ratmen tried to
reform into a more defensible posture, some fragment of Nahaks tactics yet lingering in their minds.
Nashrik shrieked orders to them to fall back, to retreat from this weird new menace that had formed to
oppose them.
It was too late. Too many of the murdering daemonettes were already mixed among the skaven ranks.
Nashrik could see more of the infernal spirits manifesting, these mounted upon long-legged steeds that
seemed to mix all the qualities of worm, serpent and peacock. The daemon cavalry descended upon the
confused ratmen, spitting them upon golden lances or ripping them apart with slashing claws. Hour of
Shadows, Storm of Magic.
These auras go beyond just daemons to the environment itself. As chaos warps the battlefield so too
does it warp the perceptions of those who view it. Reality cracks as men in the battlezone come to see
things that defy description or else experience senses in ways impossible to imagine, such as tasting
fear. Soldiers might hear echoes of mysterious events throughout history such as doomed battles fought
long ago or that have yet to be waged. Even should soldiers emerge from this hellscape alive the visions
of madness will likely haunt their dreams to come.
This plays into a desire to snap the sanity of those who would fight against them. A sane mind is an
orderly mind while the insane are often shown to be more vulnerable to the lure of chaos or the
emotions that sustain it. Increasing the amounts of insane on the enemy side not only increases the
amount susceptible to chaos but can cause havoc and confusion in the opposing side.
Such auras and encroaching madness can be resisted by enemy morale, willpower, any means of
magical resistance or leadership, which lore wise refers to a particularly inspiring figure being able to
defy temptation/rage and thus "break" the entrapment spell for his entire unit. This is shown in
Beastslayer and Elfslayer where in both cases several mercenaries (including hero Felix) were ensnared
by the wills of a minion of Slaanesh (masses of Daemonettes in the first; a Keeper of Secrets in the
second). Gotrek, the main Dwarf hero of the series, defied the corruption field both times through sheer
stubborness, and thus alerted the others to the true nature of Slaanesh's servants- superficial beauty,

but ugly and terrifying in actuality. In the End Times mortal armies were forced to fight in chaotic
environments quite frequently and though undoubtedly suffered were able to both fight and often win.

Sometimes, when the Winds of Magic are in a tempest over the world, the Gods of Chaos are able to
directly interfere in the mortal world. For example over Altdorf the Chaos god Nurgle tore upon a rift
through which he poured a deluge of noxious slime and later he dropped the contents of his cauldron
over Nagashs army. Khorne in the End Times once got so furious over the enemy using magic he swung
his sword across the battlefield and then in a second incident bombarded the area with skulls. The 8th
edition Daemons of Chaos book describes how Slaanesh sings a siren song that can ensnare those who
hear it or Tzeentch can unleash a storm of magical fire.
These interventions are brutal but usually rare and short as either the magic required to sustain gods is
used up, the gods are made satisfied or just get bored or are distracted. They also have a tendency to
target not just mortals on the opposing team, but daemons of their opposite god (so Khornes hits
Slaaneshi minions with flaming skulls while Tzeentch unleashes hellfire on Nurgles forces).It should also

be noted that, in every example I listed above, the force opposing Chaos ultimately won, though with
greater difficulty and often with reinforcements.
Sometimes other effects might manifest through Chaos as well, such as enemy wizards being at
increased risk for daemonic possession, are made stronger by a surge of energy, or even have new
daemons summoned to the field entirely! The latter is more likely to happen for the ascendant chaos
god. However as ever Chaos is fickle and sometimes the winds might lessen weakening their minions, a
chaos character on the field might draw the wrath of the gods or the winds might recede entirely,
making daemons immensely weaker.

The fearsome energies boiling above the roofs of Altdorf illuminated an indescribably foul face several
miles in diameter. A yawning mouth that could eat the world grinned impossibly wide as the
thunderheads below coalesced into fat fingers, and nails of broken cloud tore open the skies. Unclean
concoctions spilled forth, splashing and splattering into the mortal realm. Wherever they fell they
nourished the seeds of disorder sown in the streets over the last few months. Twining tendrils burst from
the streets and snaked high into the air, waving and shifting like drownweeds reaching for a victim to
pull under the water.
High above the maniac landscape, the twin-tailed comet blazed brighter even than gloating Morrslieb,
despite the fact the Chaos moon was fuller than ever on this most fateful of eves. The comets wild,
crackling fire illuminated the whole scene, rendering every sore and pimple of the armies below visible to
any with the stomach to look.
The city of Altdorf stared into an abyss from which it could never return, its fate balanced on the blades
of those massed around its walls.
Across the field, man, daemon and beast raised their war horns and sounded the advance.- End Times
Glottkin
The battle could well have ended there and then. No matter how Scrofulox and Isabella harangued their
minions, there were simply too many of the undead. The morghasts, freed from their contest in the skies,
flew freely about the battlefield, preying on plaguebearers still reeling from Arkhans sorcerous
onslaught. Plagueswords and corroded gongs clattered onto rock as their bearers were hacked down,
and the odour of mangled and decaying flesh was rank upon the air.
Perhaps it was the stench that drew Nurgles wandering attention. Or perhaps the Plaguefather had
watched Isabellas progress from the start, determined that the Glottkins failure would not be echoed by
his newest emissary. Perhaps Nurgle was simply bored, his eye wandering between his eternal hobbies of
concoction and libation. In any event, the Plaguefathers gaze was upon the Black Pyramid in that
moment, and he decided to bequeath his gifts to those who fought below. Leaning hard against his
cauldron, Nurgle heaved the pitted and rusted pot onto its side, spilling the contents through the cracks
in reality and thus upon the mortal world below.

For Isabella and Scrofulox, Nurgles gift was most welcome, if not entirely pleasant. A thick and greasy
rain fell from the skies, its slimy waters pooling wherever the daemons had suffered their greatest losses.
The daemons who fought amongst those waters were untouched, but the undead were dragged beneath
the surface by grasping hands that were invisible through the murk. As the undead were forced back, the
sickly broth bubbled. Plaguebearers lurched from the depths, the wounded and slain of the fighting
restored to life by their gods beneficent elixir. For Arkhan and Krell, Nurgles gift was a bitter reminder
that there was no artifice of mortals that the gods could not match.
Gelt first realised that something was wrong just as the dwarfen fire thickened once more. He had
intended to keep the orb in motion until it reached the far end of the chasm. However, it had not even
covered a third of that distance when the sky went suddenly dark, and a wrathful thunderclap rolled
overhead. At once, Gelt felt the orb unravel, the magics of its creation dissipating like smoke in a sudden
breeze. Pain followed, a thousand red hot needles stabbing deep into his mind, the sudden agony of it
causing him to fall from Quicksilvers saddle. Hammerson saw the wizard collapse, ordered the Ironclads
to his side, but he could not have been prepared for what followed.

What happened next took many forms in the minds of those who saw it. For some, a wall of dark fire
sprang up along the chasm, enveloping the dwarf line and the transmuted remains of the Skaramor, and
setting the canopy ablaze. Others recalled a gale sweeping down from the east, its winds striking armour
and flesh with the force of an axe. More witnessed the rock floor of the chasm buck and heave, sending
boulders and wicked shards tearing across the Zhufbarak lines. Gelt saw all this through eyes half-lidded
with pain. However, he bore witness as much through Chamons senses as his own, and so perceived
something the others did not, something that sent black fear worming its way through his guts.

Gelt saw the tip of a colossal sword so vast that its breadth was scarcely less than the chasms width
plunge through the forest canopy behind the dwarf lines and deep into the rock floor. As its unseen
wielder twisted the blade, the swords tip scraped eastward through the chasm. The ground trembled
and split, and great slabs of rock broke off from the chasm walls, crushing one of the Zhufbarak cannon.
Fire sprang up and rock shattered wherever the god-steel touched, thick black smoke billowing behind
it.
One by one, the Skaramor warbands broke, spilling away north to the Temple of Ulric, and the uneven
roadway that led down into the great excavation. Bereft of allies, the daemons felt their grip on the
mortal world begin to slacken, and the Realm of Chaos drew them inexorably home. None of this went
unnoticed by wrathful Khorne, and a bellow deeper and more piercing than the loudest thunder shook
the skies.
Blazing meteors penetrated the clouds, each one a brass-plated skull plucked from the Blood Gods
throne. One by one, they crashed indiscriminately into the seething mass upon the Ulricsmund,

slaughtering the Skaramor as readily as their enemies. Khorne was displeased by his worshippers
cowardice, and strove to smite them as readily as he did the mortals who fought against his cause.

Yet the skulls also took their toll of elven and Imperial lives. One slammed into the Host of Fire, all but
obliterating a pride of white lions. Another struck a circling phoenix, hurling the firebirds broken body to
the ground. The last of the Knights Griffon, who had stood stalwart at the Emperors side since
Averheims siege began, were consumed by flame when a howling skull slammedinto their formations
heart.

There was no shelter from the bombardment. What few ruins still stood collapsed like matchsticks when
skulls struck them. Tyrion wove a shield of pure magic, a dome of shining light beneath which he sought
to shelter his allies, but it shattered like glass under the first impact, scattering shards of razor-sharp
light across the Ulricsmund. With no other choice, the united Hosts of Fire, Light and Heavens fought on
as the skies fell, each warrior amongst their ranks praying for victory, or at the very least a swift death.
On they forged through the sea of fleeing Skaramor, trying to ignore the flaming doom that screamed
from above.

Only when the combined Incarnate host was nigh unto the Temple of Ulrics walls did the bombardment
cease. None believed that a holy presence within the shrine had caused the attacks to falter; so slighted
and defiled was the once-grand building that no wholesome god could have any longer held power over
it. In this, the warriors of the host were correct. Khornes wrath, though never-ending, was easily
distracted to other concerns even as the End Times drew to a climax and some quarrel with his
brothers now commanded the Blood Gods attention.-ET Archon

The End Times has brought the ascendant god rule, a rule which defines which Chaos God is currently
most powerful. This is directly influenced by the power of the gods followers in the mortal realm, with
times of Great plague and Pestilens boosting Nurgle while excess boosts Slaanesh and Schemes and
Magic boost Tzeentch. As ever the height of wars often benefits Khorne the most.
When a certain god is ascendant that gods followers are far more likely to receive positive gifts or
mutations. Daemons of the ascendant god fight with increased vigor and durability. There is a greater
likelihood that more daemons might summon themselves into existence. There are numerous
miscellaneous effects as well, relating to chaos auras. For example, when Nurgle is dominant plagues are
much more potent, while the bloodrage of Khornate followers reaches a peak when Khorne is at full
power.
Chaos is fickle and its possible for the god with ascendency to lose it even in battle!

See Cohesion. On all levels Chaos is prone to infighting. Archaon might help achieve unity of purpose
and impose some unity of force among his men, but not even he can stop the infighting completely. Nor
does he always care too, allowing infighting in the days after the Fall of Middenhiem to allow his horde
to vent. Only after four days did he send his elite Swords of Chaos to impose tentative order.
Raising both axes in the air the minotaur snorted and bellowed at the bestigor, its bull eyes blazing. In
response, the red-skinned wargor raised its own cleaver-like falchion in both clawed hands and, throwing
back its head, with an ululating cry, howled its challenge to the sky.
The scene unfolding before them transfixed all in the campmen and beastmen. Wilhelm doubted that
any of his fellow prisoners fully understood what was going on. The warrior priest, however, had studied
various permitted texts concerning the enemies of Sigmars light, and their practices. He could guess
what was going on. The rebellious wargor was making its challenge for the position of sire of the tribe.
The wargor had captured a great prize: souls to be sacrificed to the herds animalistic gods. It believed
itself worthy of the tide of Banebeast.
Then there was nothing more to be said.
The minotaur and the wargor, traded blow after blow against each other. They fought with the ferocity
of rabid dogs, grunting, snarling and bellowing at one another as they did so. At first they seemed evenly
matched, in terms of size, strength and animal cunning. As the doombulls dwarf axe cut down towards
the wargors neck, the bestigor parried with a strike of its falchion. As the red-skinned challenger thrust
with its own blade, the minotaur caught the knocked edge with the hook of its Chaos-forged war-axe.
The two beasts also tried to kick and bite and gore one another. Nothing was too base for these
degenerate creatures.

Then suddenly, twisting its great bulk out of the way of the wargors descending falchion-blade, the
minotaur skewered its challengers shoulder with one of its sharpened horn tips. The doombull had
demonstrated why it was the leader of the tribe. With great muscles in its bull neck bulging, the
minotaur lifted the other beastman off the ground, impaled on the end of its horn.
As the wargor kicked out at the minotaurs loins with its sharp-hoofed feet, the herd-leader brought
both of its axes around in front of its body, delivering two savage cuts that sliced open the gors stomach.
The red-skinned beastman gave a shrieking cry as its entrails burst from the ruptured flesh in a torrent of
black blood and offal. The doombull shook the beastman free of its horn and the challenger fell to the
ground, wailing like a newborn calf.
But the doombull did not stop. The frenzy of blood-greed was on it now. The leader threw itself on the
dying, gutted challenger and took a great bite out of its labouredly heaving chest. The doombull threw
back its head, blood dripping from its chin, and gulped down the bloody lump of gouged meat.
Having witnessed such savage brutality, bloodlust had taken hold of the tribe. The scent of blood was in
their nostrils, and blood was pumping in their veins. Blood was the only thing that would satisfy them
now!
The beastmen were not quelled by the death of the wargor; they were giddy with the scent of carnage
and wanted nothing more than to have their bestial cravings sated in battle. They divided into two
campsthose who wished to avenge the upstart that slayed their wargor, and the others loyal to the
doombull.
The two sides immediately clashed in the middle of the clearing. With the prisoners forgotten,
beastman fought beastman in an orgy of bloodletting. As some of Wilhelms followers watched the
confusion of the battle, wary of any stray axes or battling combatants coming their way, the warrior
priest and the stronger soldiers began to wrestle the heavy log-bolt that held the cage shut. They
struggled to free the securing ropes, all the while straining to reach it through the haphazard bars.
One of the men gave a cry as he saw something hurtling towards the prisoners. With a crash, a hulking
gor smashed into the side of the cage and through the splintered bars. As the injured beastman
struggled to rise, Wilhelm grabbed a splintered stake and plunged it through the soft flesh of the
creatures neck. The gor died choking on its own foul blood.
Chaos reigned in the clearing. The cries of the battling beastmen echoed around the stone pillars of the
lithic circle. Metal rang on metal and stone. But Wilhelm Faustus and his Sigmarite crusaders were free.
We have no time to lose, the priest told his men. We must recover our weapons and leave this
place.
None of the priests followers disputed this decision. They were weak after days of imprisonment and
knew that they were hopelessly outnumbered by the beastmen. Luckily the herd was doing more harm to
itself than Wilhelms holy entourage could ever hope to.

For that was Chaos greatest weakness, the lector knew. It would always turn on itself and destroy
itself, in the end. - Magestorm

Gods have short attention spans, and though truly mighty beings do get a hold of, and keep,
their favor this isn't always the case. Sometimes mortals who don't really deserve blessings through lack
of ability are blessed, while those with great ability are cursed with spawndom or insanity. Lorewise the
only example where they are almost guaranteed to pay attention is when considerations are made for
Daemonhood (Daemon Prince) which is why the position is awarded very rarely.

Though doubtless individual

fast units can fly far ahead of the main
force, as the Darkblade Chronicles shows
us a Chaos force in totality moves very
slow, and in fact had difficulty managing
to travel more then a dozen miles a day! It
is more akin to a slow wrecking ball than a
fast rapier like strike.

One of the
key themes of the Warhammer universe is
that every faction is ruled by their own
inescapable flaws that prevent true
unity. For humanity is obsession with
dogma, tendency towards extremes and
susceptibility to Chaos corruption. Elves
ruled by pride and aloofness to other
races, Dwarfs by grudges and obsession
with the past, and the Lizardmen by
apathy and the inability to adapt to
changing circumstance. The Undead
disdain the living and see their concerns
with death to be irrelevant, being also
difficult to adapt to change. These traits,
along with inherent pettiness, make it extremely difficult for factions in the setting to unify.

Virtually every single enemy Chaos fought in the End Times suffered from massive disunity problems.
The Empire was riddled with politicking emperors who had difficulty unifying or even coordinating their
armies together without the Emperor involved. Cathay had a bureaucracy infested with Tzeentchi
cultists that crippled its response in the early days while Ind was split into a myriad of different states
picked off one by one. The other races of Warhammer too had problems: no less than three of Nagashs
mortarchs defected to Chaos while the Warhammer unified elves sometimes had difficulty coordinating
together.
However if Chaos has a thematic ability to take advantage of enemy disunity, it has a weakness towards
actual unity. Virtually every single time two or more factions have succeeded in uniting against Chaos in
WHF, they won. In the ancient days it was an allied force of Elves and Dwarfs that kept Chaos corralled
up north and it was only really the breakdown of this alliance that allowed it to expand. In modern times
when Vlad & the Brettonians allied with the Empire against a truly massive Nurglite force at Altdorf they
won- even if it was by incredible circumstance. When Dwarfs & Humans fought Chaos in the Great War,
they won. Even in the final battle of Middenheim, where every order force had lost the vast majority of
its former holdings and Chaos was in ascendency, a unified force of Elves, Dwarfs, Undead, Humans &
Orcs still won even if just barely. It was only by treachery and pettiness that order was undone.

Chaos Dwarfs may have some ranged prowess, they are but a small fraction of the Chaos
force, outnumbered even in their own contingent by Hobgoblins. Regular Chaos forces only have some
Tzeentchi daemons and horse archers for range, and often times in battle this isnt enough. As a rule
Chaos seems to be forced to take huge, monstrous causalities at range in nearly every fight they must
enter. In the Darkblade Chronicles many thousands perished to repeating crossbows before even
touching Dark Elf walls, while in the Sundering slow-moving Dwarven crossbowmen completely

destroyed the frontal section of a numerically superior Beastman army (though they were then
ambushed from the sides). However usually the hordes are so huge and many so well armored that they
can absorb the fire to close to melee.

OPENING SETUP: When confronting a new enemy entirely unknown and that randomly appeared the
creatures of chaos will likely try to first consult their gods. Through oracles, rituals and sances they will
consult daemons and, through them, the gods themselves to determine their will. Alas the gods rarely
give clearcut answers, even to Daemons, so the scyers of chaos will interpret the omens as best they
can before taking matters into their own hands.
There exists many seers in the Chaos force, ranging from tribal shamans to the Bray-shamans of the
Beastmen. This is in part due to the unique nature of the Warp, which allows glimpses of what has
already been and will be. They must interpret these godly omens. Daemons too, thanks to their nature,
are excellent at peering into the future. Now as discussed this foresight presents multiple possible
futures however as more information becomes known they can narrow down more information about
their foes.
Shamans and other sorcerers can enter a trancelike state and have their spirits leave their own bodies.
In doing so they can travel and scry an area hundreds of miles away in a single night, observing unseen
in spirit form the enemy. These spirits can fly high in the sky, up above cloud level, or risk going down to
ground level for more personal views. Only magical detectors or beings can hope to see and attack such
the shaman in this state.
Beastmen use fast moving Ungor Raiders to scout out enemy positions and then through a steady
stream of runners sent back haphazardly come up with a plan. These Beastmen are noted for being

master trackers and knowing their way around the forest that exceeds all other of their kind, and on at
least one occasion they succeeded in luring the Wood Elves into an ambush. Harpies and Chaos Furies
too can be used as scouts as those that fly ahead double back and excitedly warn the beastmen of what
is near. Bray-shamans have possessed crows and other flyers before and used them as scouts. They can
also temporarily transform their form into ugly human peasants and scout that way. If possible they can
take captives for more information.
Gradually, as Chaos comes to know the enemy, they may seek to send infiltrators. These can include
daemons trying to possess some of the enemy or shapeshifters like the Changeling or experienced cult
operators with magically enhanced charisma. Against a human foe mutant-humans with mild
mutations, those that can be hidden, are sometimes employed to infiltrate enemy forces, particularly
human ones. This isn't particularly common, as Beastmen will kill those who do not have the slightest
hint of animalistic mutation, but it has been employed, particularly by the more savvy men of Chaos.
These mutants will act as spies, saboteurs, and a source of discontent if they can successfully found a
Chaos Cult, or even assassins.
Though it will take a while to see fruits, Chaos seeks to start the spread of discontent and unrest early
on. However their means for sabotage and infiltration is primarily internal rather than external. Or, to
put in laymans terms, though they might send some agents the real coup to this plan is to entice enemy
opportunistic to secretly pledge themselves to Chaos. These can then feed information to the Legion of
the Everchosen and conduct sabotage from within. See Chaos Corruption and Chaos Cults sections for
more detail.
However this is a long term strategy, a side project for a force that is exceedingly aggressive. It would
not take long for Chaos, after verifying an enemy is there, to engage them. Thus while this is going on
Archaon will of course begin hostilities for his mass of monsters would grow too unruly otherwise. By
this point he would have, via the Eye of Sheerian, divined much about the enemy and their potential.
However he would go further to make sure.
He would gather up leaders known to be unruly, expendable or individuals who he just plain wanted to
be rid of and send their hordes in first. If the Skaven are part of this he would be forcing this race into
combat by large numbers. These opening assault forces, always containing large numbers and powerful
compositions, would provide an early experimentation by which the strengths and weaknesses of the
enemy can be observed.

FOREIGN RELATIONS: This might surprise people, given the nature of Chaos and Archaons end goal, but
they are capable of diplomacy when necessary. For example early on, before the End Times officially
began, Archaon bargained a pack with the Chaos Dwarfs that supplied his armies with artillery and
helped see the fall of Cathay. Later he accepted the Skavens fealty in return for them joining his forces.
While Archaon is unlikely to try at all to negotiation with the forces of Order or even neutral (who would
likely detect his nature and that of his army immediately) he might be willing to give one-sided
negotiations to evil or chaotic factions and give them a stay on their executions. Provided they join him
without conditions, serve him without complaint and generally just be his servants.
However where Archaon really shines is in promoting disunity. As his character bio shows Archaon is
going to try to promote disunity among the enemy as much as possible, to hamper their ability to
coordinate effectively against him and his horde. He will try to break down trust and play on emotions
to wreck relations within the opposing faction or sour those between the opponent and neutral or
native factions.
GENERAL STRATEGY: As the initial assaults are underway Archaon would be preparing his next steps . A
larger, second force would be prepared, this time lead by lieutenants of Archaon or at least key
important commanders however if Archaon feels he himself is necessary at this stage he will send
everything in. Chaoss numbers by now would have grown exponentially, particularly if they are allied
with Skaven, and the second assault force would be far larger than the first (which would already be
large). .
Now Archaon would unleash a Pandoras box worth of Chaos horrors. Nurgle followers would spread
their plagues to the world along with all manner of Pestilence to eat up crops. Tzeentchian schemers
would try to promote chaos, disorder and spread around sabotage such as dropping Warpstone into
water supplies and turning the land against their opponent. Together with Slaaneshs forces efforts

would be increased to bring cults into being and spread corruption, possession and mutation among the
enemy.
On a more traditional scale Beastmen would take to the forests where in their affinity they would
attempt to ambush enemies passing through. The Chaos Dwarfs would seek to set up a series of fortified
outposts and even factories where they can create a steady supply line sending their machines to the
front. Little minor attacks would occur all the time as tiny Warbands race ahead of the main force to
sack, pillage and murder.
Then the main assault force would hit, comprising at the least in the hundreds of thousands and
probably more. They would attack from multiple points and designed to spread as much destruction and
corruption as possible, seeking to overwhelm with sheer mass and destructive capability. The land
would gradually turn hostile under the boots of enormous numbers of corrupted walking across it,
despoiling and spreading their taint miles wide. By now the Winds of Magic would be at a Tempest,
aiding magic users, daemonic summoning and the
spreading of mutation.

FOR ALMOST A week, the attacks came at the walls of

Talabheim. The forces of Chaos suffered terrible
casualties, for to attack up the crater at the walls was
nigh-on impossible, and the Chaos warbands of Hroth the
Blooded were mercilessly slaughtered by the defenders.
The dead dropped their hastily constructed ladders where
they fell, to be picked up by others as they scrambled up
the steep incline towards the towering walls.
To the Empire defenders, the hordes assailing them
seemed countless, and the nights were filled with the
hateful drumming of the foe, haunting the sleep of the
soldiers, and thousands of campfires and torches burnt
through the night. Night was no release from the attacks, and the Empire soldiers were dog-tired from
hours of constant readiness and sporadic moments of frantic battle. They took their rest when they could
get it, but it was invariably short-lived and rare. The Chaos forces attacked all around the city, striking
against the walls quickly, forcing the defenders to constantly have men on all the many miles of walls.
Mark of Chaos
If the assault is overly successful Archaon might join in early, to prevent others from stealing his
thunder. Otherwise Archaon would continue to follow up with more plagues, attrition warfare and
corruption along with raiding all building up to the final and largest assault which he will lead personally.
ADAPTIONS: Chaos holds nothing back for moral reasons. Any and every atrocity is on the table, there is
nothing they are totally unwilling to do. As times goes on and the enemy becomes more difficult they

might try to utilize a superspell, such as opening a long term portal to the Realm of Chaos or turning all
livestock across the province into Beastmen. Archaon will learn from the weakness of the enemy, both
in their army and personality, and try to place upon those weaknesses. That said Chaos as a force lacks
any ultra-rare technology to deploy and, since they unleash everything from the beginning, magical
adaptions.
WITHDRAWAL: The forces of Chaos are infamous in Warhammer for their insane zeal, their ability to
keep fighting well past causalities that would cause regular mortals to retreat. There have been
numerous cases where the entire Chaos force has fought to the death. From their point of view it makes
sense, as this life is fleeting and if they die gloriously maybe the gods will look favorably on them while if
they retreat they will be tortured by daemons in the afterlife. Though Tzeentchi forces have been known
to sneak away if the gods are sensed to be watching, even they will fight to the death.
However if the favor of the gods is taken away or seen in disfavor, then their morale might break.

Chaos, as a force, exists almost entirely to fight. From the time of childhood to their eventual deaths
(usually from violence) essentially the entire sub-factions of Chaos men and Beastmen will fight
numerous conflicts against diverse and varied foes. Meanwhile Daemons of Chaos, courtesy of the
looping nature of the Warp, will spend countless time fighting each other and the various mortal races
of the world (or beyond!) . Thus, though many in the Chaos legions live short and brutal lives, their
veterans can be considered some of the most experienced troops in Warhammer barring only the
longest lived races.

Threat Level:
Very High
Status:
Defeated
Composition
: The
Lizardmen
are a rather
primitive

faction in some ways compared to the other races of the world. They do not wield guns, tanks
or steam powered ships. However their warrior caste is extremely tough and numerous, armed with
gruesome weaponry and though lacking anything heavier, their blowgun armed skirmishers are
chameleonic. Plenty of larger beasts exist in the Lizardmen arsenals that are reminiscent to dinosaurs of
our world. But by far the greatest and most potent of the Lizardmens arsenal are the rare Slann. With
time these super-powerful magicians can move entire continents and level battlefields.
HISTORY: When Chaos first burst onto the scene 7,000 years ago, it was the full force of the Slann world
spanning empire that met them. Countless millions of Sauros and Slink fought equal numbers of
daemons across the breadth of the world. Though Chaos invaded everywhere, the Lizardmen bore the
brunt of the attack. To the surprise of later observers, the Lizardmen were initially winning thanks in no
small part to the Slann. These Mage-Priests could create volcanic geysers, spawn tidal waves, or create
fissures to swallow entire hordes of daemons. At first so successful were they, that the Lizardmen
considered their victory inevitable.
Yet as more magic seeped into the world, the
Slanns magic grew more unreliable and
hundreds died or went mad after a messing up a
single syllable to a spell. Chaos began gaining
mortal followers around this time in the form of
primitive Northern tribes of men, adding to their
numbers. Slowly the Slann began getting pushed
back, continent by continent, city by city.
In desperation the Lizardmen used every trick
they knew. Strange and powerful artifacts of the
unimaginably technologically advanced Old Ones
were utilized to wipe out thousands in an instant. Rivers were redirected and volcanic eruptions caused
just as daemonic legions marched past. When the Daemons reached Lustria, the Slann pooled all their
energies to make every aspect of the forest hostile to the invaders, slowing them down immensely.
Yet that was all they could do, and gradually the daemons fought past the natural defenses to besiege
their mightiest cities. One by one these great enclaves fell as their Slann protectors were killed, though
each battle killed countless thousands of daemons. Yet hope was not lost, for the stubborn resistance
provided by the Lizardmen gave the High Elves valuable time to complete their ritual which sucked up
much of the Chaos energy in the world in a mighty maelstrom (and, secretly, the Slann sent magical aid).
Though the Lizardmen won after a 1100 year war (or, more accurately, every non-corrupted race
working together at once to foil Chaos) their power was forever shattered and they are a fragment of
what they once were. Chaos meanwhile just bided its time, for the maelstrom was a temporary measure
by their reckoning.
The Lizardmen and forces of Chaos have fought numerous conflicts since- almost always with the
Lizardmen on defense in Lustria- with the forces of Chaos achieving many tactical victories but few

strategic ones. The Slann were never again able to seriously hurt Chaos and soon a new problem arose.
The Lizardmen fought a series of wars with the Skaven that would cumulate in their final destruction in
the End Times.
Implications: Chaos experience with powerful mages and giant dinosaur monsters, but much greater
experience with tribes of tough, ferocious, Lizardmen. They have experience with guerrilla jungle
fighting and the hazards of fighting a foe on terrain they are superior too. Too they have experience
against the best mages of the world, Slann capable of wielding apocalyptic magics. Combine with this is
the Skaven experience with exceedingly harsh terrain, with Lustria having a variety of terrible predators,
quicksand, diseases, giant insects, unstable geological activity etc. Many Daemonic commanders, such as
Kalros and Kurgath, personally fought in the Dawn War seven thousand years ago.

Threat Level: High

Status: Holed up in a single forest

There are normally three branches of Elves. The First, the High Elves, are more a noble order faction that
utilizes armies of extremely trained militia, masters of weaponry, some of the greatest sorcerers in the
world bar the Slann, dragons, phoenixes and all sorts of air. The Second, the Wood Elves, are more a
guerilla force from the forest, but have dyriad, treemen and various native allies, as well as the ability to
call up the power of nature and fast travel with their mystical World Root. The Final force, the
Malevolent Druichi, are treacherous foes who favor repeating crossbows tipped with poison,
velociraptor cavalry, crazed blood mad cultists, expert assassins and all sorts of monsters, as well as
terrible Dark Magic. Both the Druichi and Asur have powerful navies.
As of the End Times this was united into one, lopsided force

HISTORY: Barring the Slann the Elves are the oldest of

all of Chaos foes. It was the Elven heroes Aenarion and
Caledor that, 7,000 years ago, created the giant
magical vortex in Ulthuan that stopped the daemon
invasion of the world. For thousands of years the Elves
had stood on the forefront of the battle against Chaos,
fighting with unrivaled discipline and focus. Yet over
the decades and centuries the Elves, courtesy of their
low breeding rate, were unable to readily replace their
numbers.
Added to this were the Elves own character traits
being used against them. The Elves split into two, then
three camps when the Elven prince Maleketh chose his
pursuit of power over the good of the world and
formed the malevolent Druichi. Later the main
grouping of Elves that remained, the Asur, were egged
on into a disastrous war with the Dwarfs by their own
arrogance, disdain of the mole people and secretly,
both Druichi and Daemon agents. They would lose this war badly with tremendous losses and, though
the Elves would continue their crusade against Chaos, they would never be at the forefront of the
conflict again. That duty would fall to the heavily flawed race of men.
In the End Times the Civil War of the Elves finally came to a head as Maleketh seized final control, their
island kingdom of Ulthuan was sunk and the entire, now unified race now fled to the forest of the third
grouping, the Asrai. The Elves managed to put up a powerful defense of their kingdom but, since by now
as in the late stages of the End Times, the kingdoms of man nearby had fallen. Now under a unrestricted
onslaught from the Chaos and Skaven the Elves held admirably for many years but, as the End Times
reached their climax, were finally being hit with assaults they had no hope of repelling.

Implications:Asur: Chaos has experience fighting a

great host of elite warriors and archers. Their air
units are, along with the Dwarfs, some of the best
in WF. They are a highly intelligent and cunning foe,
with again some of the best commanders in WF.
Asrai: The Wood Elves give elements of Chaos
experience with an enemy that relies on light
troops of archers and spearmen, that can summon
natural allies and have potent natural magic. They
are a guerilla force too, making quick hit and run
attacks over and over again.
Druichi: Chaos has frequent experience with
treacherous, yet powerful and elite elves as both
allies and enemies. They also have experience with
powerful repeating range weaponry, murderous
assassins, fanatic battlefield shock troops and all
manner of guile.

Threat Level: Medium

Status: Almost entirely destroyed by the end of the End Times.

Composition: The Dwarfs are a slow moving, durable force composed of greatly armored troops,
riflemen and crossbowmen, various forms of artillery, legendary Slayers warriors, rune magic, and even
limited gyrocopter aircraft. Their whole race has a heavy defense emphasis, from their fortresses that
were the strongest in the Warhammer World at forging runes of magic resistance. They are master
tunnelers and craftsmen.
HISTORY: When Chaos burst onto the scene, the Dwarves were among the many races to take up the
fight against them. At first, led by their legendary Warrior-King Grimmir, the Dwarves temporarily drove
Chaos off however the second surge brought ever more creations of Chaos. The Dwarves were besieged
in their holds with many of them taken after incredible battles yet a few prevailed through desperate
measures, such as the example of the Dwarves caving in their mountain on top of a Chaos force and
sealing themselves inside the mountain. Fortunately events elsewhere allowed the Dwarves to survive.
It was around this time that one of the Dwarf holds to the east was cut off from the West and
underwent the transformation that turned them into the Chaos Dwarfs. When the Dwarfs of the West
found out about what had occurred they immediately tried to put the Dawi Zharr down but failed. The
Dwarfs and Chaos Dwarfs have hated each other with a passion ever since, each viewing the other as an
absolute abomination.
Since then the Dwarves have fought numerous conflicts against Chaos, and for a time, allied with the
Elves, they sought to purge Chaos from the world or at least keep it confined to the North. They
experienced remarkable success and for a time their realms were mostly clean of Chaos taint yet even
with their greatest heroes of legend, such as Snorri Whitebeard and the then good Maleketh, conceded
defeating Chaos was impossible. When the Great War of Vengeance caused a rift between the two races
that would never fully heal, Chaos again burst onto the scene. Quite a few holds fell to Chaos, though
the main threat to the Dwarves of this time were the Skaven and Night Goblins.
Since then the Dwarves have allied with the Empire of Man and provided elite support to their efforts
against Chaos. With Dwarven technological knowhow and elite troops the Empire has always managed
to drive back Chaos armies though often at terrible prices, losing ever greater amounts of an already
rare people in the conflicts.
In the End Times, while it was primarily the Skaven that took out the Dwarfs, Chaos and the stunted
race fought many times. In the north in Norsca, it was through the works of Valkia the Bloody that the
Norse Dwarfs were finally overwhelmed with the last fleet departing the port of Sjoktraken for parts
unknown. The remainder of the Dwarfs joined the Empire at Averheim, where they were defeated by
Chaos, and took part in the final actions of the End Times.

Implications: Chaos has experience with some technologically advanced foes supporting cannons, guns
and flyers, as well as powerful rune magic. Dwarven troops are extremely disciplined and stubborn foes
who often impress even the bloodthirsty Chaos Warriors with their never fall back attitude. As
Dwarves often ally with the Empire they do have some experience with multi-racial coalitions.

Threat Level: Medium

Status: Mostly Overrun
Composition: The Empire is a primarily renaissance based army with breastplate armored Halberdiers,
pike men, archers and gunners along with Knights of all sorts. They have eight different colleges of
magic, each capable of making mage specialists along with arcane artifacts like the Celestial
Hurricanium, along with magic wielding warrior priests .Artillery wise they have everything from simple
cannons , primitive rockets and even Steam Tanks, though there are only seven in the entire Empire. To
round it off is a well-educated core of generals, witch hunters and other special agents. The Empire is
the single most powerful human realm in Warhammer Fantasy and the focus point of Chaoss efforts in
the End Times.
History: Since its inception the Empire has faced constant wars of Chaos, for its founder Sigmar was one
of the greatest foes of Chaos to ever exst in the Warhammer World. It was this man who first united the
non-corrupted Chaos tribes and pushed the Chaos corrupted ones out, as well as contained the

Beastmen in their deep forests. Chaos sent at least two massive invasions from the North to end their
threat, yet both were repelled by Sigmar with effort in turn.

Ever since then Chaos has constantly sent in endless raids and periodic invasions down South, growing in
intensity year after year. In the Great War against Chaos, set 200 years prior to present timeline, an
enormous force so large it caused a self-sustaining Storm of Magic to appear. This invasion sought the
destruction of Kislev followed by full-scale invasion of the Empire, and was only barely defeated by the
full force of Kislev and the Empire along with the Dwarves and slight Elven help.
In the End Times it was the Empire that was the main focus point of the Chaos invasion. Over a several
year period the Empire was devastated from cults within, Beastman uprisings (including a superspell
that turned all livestock into Beastmen), plagues and pestilence, and several Chaos assaults. The Empire
put up a admirable, vigorous fight but was ultimately reduced to one major city and a handful of
isolated, fortified towns by the point of this profile. Shortly after the Empire would lose this city and be
forced to retreat to the Elven stronghold of Athel Loren.
Implications: Chaos have experience fighting a Renaissance era foe with knights, pikemen, gunners and
early era artillery. They also have some experience fighting mages with diverse magic, though mages are
rare in this franchise universally. They have experience fighting organized armies of men with states
built on a decentralized system and ruled by a unitary ruler.

Threat Level: Low

Status: Overrun
Composition: Bretonnias armies are, on their base, built upon mobs of peasant men at arms (in
chainmail) and longbowmen, along with some Yeoman horse archers. Though the Longbowmen are
proficient, the Men at Arms are infamous in the setting for their poor training and skill at arms (mostly.
Even Beastmen can get positive K/Ds against them!) . They do have primitive artillery in the form of
Trebuchets, as they are stunted in technological advancement, along with a female cast of elven taught

witches known as the Damsels. However their main threat and power is their inordinately large numbers
of knights, skilled plate riding warriors sometimes blessed with magic that gives them resistance to
ranged weaponry. The higher ranking the knight, the more buffs, until the best are true champions of
the world.
History: Bretonnias history is steeped in myth. It is known that the legendary knight Giles once led
heroic armies to pacify the beastmen, orcs, undead and raiding norsemen of his kingdom, eventually
founding Brettonia proper and laying down a Chivalric code. Since then they have rather frequently
fought the local Beastmen around their realm, driving them deep in the forest in conjunction with their
mysterious allies, the Wood Elves. Occasionally Norsemen will raid them from the seas, and at least on
one occasion recently a Jarl did significant damage.
In the End Times Brettonia was ultimately overrun by a combination of Skaven rising from the South,
northern raiders hitting the shoreline and a large Slaaneshi horde led by Sigvald coming in from the
West. Already weakened by undead uprisings, plagues, and a civil war Brettonia could only go valiantly
into the night. In the end, despite alliances with prominent undead such as Abhorash and Ushoran, only
a small area in the core of the country remained free.
Implications: As Bretonni peasents are inferior mostly to Empire State troops in training (to the point
that, in combat, Gors maintain 3-1 kill ratios over their men at arms) and their artillery is lackluster, the
example of the Bretonni mostly gives Archaon experience with lots and lots of knights. Some of them
have potent magical buffs allowing them deflect bullets off their armor
Other Human Nations:
Below are the human nations, though while important, have scant information on them from official
sources.

From what fragments on Araby exists, they were essentially Fantasy Middle Eastern civilizations. For
armies they had large numbers of slave soldiers (not unlike the Skaven), fast riding desert nomad
cavalry, elite Kontoi cavalry, Dervishes, War Elephants, Flying carpets, Djins, female enchantresses as
magicians and more. Historically, the Arabyans were too far apart from Chaos to experience regular
contact however they were raided by the Norse quite often as well as had periodic daemon invasions. In
the End Times they were destroyed by the Skaven.

The massive empire of Cathay is probably the second strongest human empire in the world (The Empire
is repeatedly referred to as the first) . Its a vast bureaucracy capable of commanding massive armies
filled with crossbowmen, trained pike soldiers and more. Imagine Fantasy China that is roughly
somewhere between the Tang Ming period. They have extremely powerful sorcerers, giant animated
jade statues, warrior monks from the martial art movies, great, if antiquated gunpowder, monkey
tribesmen, cavalry and chariots. They are skilled engineers, and built the Great Bastion (re: Great Wall)
to keep out Chaos for several thousand years.
However in the End Times Chaos was on the move, and through an alliance with the Chaos Dwarfs that
saw that race active to a unprecedented degree, the Great Bastions walls were broken by daemonic
artillery. Massive hordes poured through yet well placed Tzeentchi cultists in Cathays bureaucracy
paralyzed the government in the vital early moments of the invasion, while Skaven assasins picked many
of those officials competent enough to organize a real defense. By the time the Celestial Emperor dealt
with both via surgical strikes and executions, Chaos forces were already inside, the Great Bastion made a
fortress by the Chaos Dwarfs, and much of the country in chaos.
The capital was besieged. The Dragon-Emperor meets the enemy in combat before the very gates of the
capital and somehow manages to throw them back time and again, as the plagues of Nurgle run riot
through the streets and Slaaneshi courtesans corrupted his advisers. The Chaos forces outside awaited
only the coming of the Chaos Dwarfs, whose guns can breach the walls of the city.

However neither was prepared for Grimgor. The Orc Warboss, now an incarnate in his own right, led a
massive force of Orcs, Goblins, the Hobgoblin Khantates, and more into Cathay. There massive three

way battles were fought that saw the capital sacked, the Emperor barely escaping after (sailing off to
parts unknown)

Fantasy India. War Elephants, Tiger Beastmen (who sometimes aided the Indians, sometimes tried to kill
them) ,large legions of troops, Skilled swordsmen, chariots, martial art masters and champions of the
ten thousand gods said to reside in India could all be found in their armies.
In the End Times these divided kingdoms were hit from everywhere at once. Arbaal the Undefeated led
a massive invasion force from the North while Dechala led the pleasure cults in the South in a giant
revolt. Tiger Beastmen doubtlessly rose up from the forests while various Skaven clans, including Eshin,
Volkn & Skyre, all played a role in causing devastation. Champions like Wulfrik, Skulltaker, Karnak and
more all took turns hunting down the champions of Ind.
By the time the world ended the Kingdoms of Ind were limited to just a few, fortified enclaves in the
middle of the county. These were still holding out-if barely- when the portal opened up at Middenheim
that heralded the End of the World.

Kislev, a minor border nation that usually allies with the Empire, has tough horse archers of the steppes,
the Fantasy equivalent to Polish Winged Hussars, bear cavalry and ice mages . They are also incredibly
tenacious foes as can be expected since Chaos usually strikes them first on their way down South.
For virtually its entire existence Kislev had made a living holding off the myriad of Chaos invasions from

the North, sometimes with the help of the Empire or even the Dwarfs, sometimes by themselves. They
eventually gained a deserved reputation for tough, rowdy folk ready to endure any hardship.
That changed in the End Times, where a horde larger than almost any seen previously- yet still only a
minnow compared to the forces that would come later- swept through Kislev. Praag and much of
Northern Kislev fell quickly. The Ice Queen engaged in a series of running battles trying to slow the
Chaos force yet its commander, Aekold Hellbrass, was unmoved. He marched to Kislev city and forced
the Ice Queen into a pitched battle outside the city, where he then crushed her force. The Kislevite
capital then fell in a single day. Chaos continued to pour through and in a series of mop up campaigns
annihilated much of the rest of the coun try.
Kislev fell in a matter of months, perhaps even a few weeks. So swift did it fall that Karl Franz, the
Emperor of the Empire, did not receive news of its defeat until after the end of the nation. Immediately
he moved his forces north and only barely managed to styme the next Chaos assault- for a time at least.
The remaining Kislevites engaged in a series of guerilla campaigns with ever dwindling forces as the
Realm of Chaos gradually came south to devour their land itself. The last stand occurred in the fallen
ruins of the Kislevite port-city of Erengard where the last 1,000 of the legendary Kislevite lancer corps
together with the Ice Queen and the spirits of the land itself rose up in a final measure of defiance. The
remnants of Kislev were engulfed in a supernatural blizzard which raged until the end of the world.

In addition to the nations described above Chaos would doubtlessly have experience with Tilea, Estalia
and Nippon via raiding and daemon invasions.
Estalia is Fantasy Spain. Imagine war dogs, conquistadors, myrmidons (hoplite style), trained city-state
infantry, tough mountain tribesmen and gunpowder. Also the nation was famous for the quality of its
duelists and the much honored Knights of the Blazing Sun had their headquarters there. Estalia, like
Tilea, was no unified nation but split into dozens of city states with Bilbali and Magritta being the
largest.
Tilea was Rennaisance esque Italy. They have disciplined state troops like the Empire, but with some
oddities that include weird inventions ala Leonardo. The land was split into different city states and
renowned for their mercenaries.
Nippon, Fantasy Japan, is the easternmost country of the Far East and the location of Clan Eshin
strongholds. They have peasant ashigaru troops, trained samurai of every type (including cavalry), Silent
ninjas, shinobi and geisha, wouku pirates, warrior monks, giant sumo wrestlers and perhaps
mythological beasts like the Oni. The nation would have been very militaristic like the real world
equivalent and with certain codes governing their lives.
All fell to the Skaven in the End Times.

Threat Level: Moderate-High

Status: Always Present
Composition: The Orcs and Goblins are two vast, fractious race that composes of mostly tough,
powerful melee fighters and small, brutal malicious backstabbers. Or in Orkish terms the first is brutal
but kunnin, while the second is kunnin but brutal. Also include various sub-races like the Primitive
Savage Orcs, insane Night Goblins and extremely militaristic Black Orks. They appear in extreme
numbers everywhere to fight, and bring along an assortment of critters such as giant boars, wolves,
spiders (some the size of houses), trolls and giants. For artillery they use primitive catapults, spear
chukkas and stuff that chucks goblins at people.

Ogres stand two times higher than a man and many times more muscular, even more than a Chaos
enhanced human, and whose gut is more formidable still. Thus any battle they appear in they count as
monstrous infantry, aided by hordes of tiny gnoblars (small goblin variant) as servants and sometimes
expendable infantry. However though excelling in melee, the Ogres too utilize large harpoon guns,
miniature cannons carried by singular ogres, primitive gnoblar catapults and larger cannons carried on

the backs of massive rhinoxs. Finally mighty war beasts such as giant boars, said rhinoxs and sabertooth cats are included in battle.
History: : Orcs and Goblins have been around on the planet potentially longer then Chaos has, and so far
nearly every race has launched protracted campaigns to wipe them out, failing each time. Though they
do not generally go into the Chaos Wastes they are one of the few races that would dare to, for Orcs live
to fight and no place has more fighting then the Wastes!
Just like Chaos invasions, Orcs and Goblin assaults are frequently defeated but for no long term gain.
Within a year a new WAAAAGH will pop up and the threat begins anew, and thus no enemy faction can
make long term strategic gains against them. Chaos and Orcs see each other both rightly as destroyer
factions, and have formed tenuous alliances in the past. Goblins can and have been cowed into alliances
before too, particularly by the Beastmen.
Historically Ogres are both an ally and an enemy to Chaos, with many of them joining Chaos warbands
as Chaos or even Plague Ogres. Some tribes join wholesale while others ell their services in
exchange for food, particularly to the Chaos Dwarves .As the Ogre mind is utterly obsessed with finding
food, canny Chaos warlords can offer it as an incentive.

Yet Ogres also fight Chaos Foces too, for the richer realms down south can often offer them more food.
In these cases Ogres can become formidable foes thanks to their stature and potent weapons, though
Chaos easily has the advantage of numbers. Sometimes Chaos exterminates or drives away their clans
however sometimes also the Ogres defeat and eat the Chaos force.
In the End Times when Chaos assaulted the world over the Greenskins suffered incredible losses in
many places along the West, where massive Beastmen uprisings and plagues devastated the various
tribes. However in the East it was a different story. The Orc champion Grimgor Ironhide united countless
orc and goblin tribes and then killed the leader of the Ogre Kingdoms in a duel, taking in his Ogres as
well. Together they defeated the Chaos forces in Cathay, claiming the country, devastated the Skaven in
Nippon and even toppled the Chaos Dwarf empire. However both the Skaven and Chaos had focused on
the West and after a superspell teleported Grimgor to Middenheim, he fought them in earnest. There
he was killed.

Threat Level: Moderate

Status: Servants of Chaos
Composition: See Skaven profile

History: Chaos and Skaven have often been allies and enemies alike, and often both at once. Many
times the two have worked together against the other, good races of the world. Yet often they fight,
and Beastmen in particular have a particular vendetta against them, often ambushing their armies and
utterly destroying them in close quarters (they would get annihilated at range).Clan Skyre and the Chaos
Dwarves blast each other apart with their crazy creations. For their part Skaven are happy to
manipulate all who they encounter and operate spy rings in Norsca. Just about the only faction they are
extremely reluctant to deal with are daemons, and along with the High Elves remain one of two factions
the Skaven have yet to see any major success on.
In the End Times the Skaven leadership, realizing that the total power of Chaos was beyond them, opted
to ally with the devil in the hopes of surviving the aftermath. This formed the Grand Legion of the
Everchosen.
Implications: Chaos forces have experience with a wide range of tactics that the Skaven use, from huge
massive numbers to the varied technology of Clan Skyre. Pestilens employs diseases against them
(though in competition to the two, it is apparently noted in lore Nurgles followers are better than them
at this) while Moulder sends legions of monsters and have, though such means, managed not to be
conquered even though their stronghold is on the border of the Chaos Wastes. They would be familiar
with treacherous alliances and even assassinations of Enshin, though this is not a faction they regularly
fight.

Threat Level: High

Status: Walking the Earth

History: Whether it is the Tomb Kings or the Vampire Counts, Chaos has always hated the Undead. This
is because they bind their own and the souls of their servants to the Mortal Realm, preventing them
from being consumed in the Aether. For thousands of years the hordes of the undead have fought Chaos
with uneven standings. Once, the Tomb King leader Settra actually led a successful assault on Chaos
homelands which is something no race has really done.
However the Undead have a universal weakness in that, while their top teir units are amazing, the vast
majority of their hordes compose of zombies and weak skeleton warriors. Against similar sized hordes of
Chaos the superior melee quality of the forces of ruin usually prevails with the Vampire champions being
hunted down and killed.
In the End Times though Chaos took significant losses the undead generally lost all battles in which they
fought Chaos directly and some of those wins were only because of Nagashs presence.
Implications: Chaos has experience with massive hordes of enemies led by high end fighters and
sorcerers. They have experience with fighting a foe capable of raising their own dead against them. The
Undead also have a series of monsters to bring to bear.

Threat: Very High

Status: Lost due to Mannfred
Composition: See Elves, Dwarfs, Empire, Undead Legion, Orcs &Goblins/Ogres
History: In the last months of the End Times, when virtually all of their realms were almost totally
destroyed, the various factions finally decided to at least try to put their grievances aside to destroy
Chaos. With much bickering and dissention they agreed that Chaos should be destroyed though
disagreed on how to do it. However Chaos forced their hands, and with knowledge that a third portal to
the Warp would be opened in Middenheim the coalition, through sacrifice of one of the last remaining
gods, arrived in the city.
There they joined forces, albeit reluctantly, with the Beast Waagh! Led by Grimgor. The faction led an
elite strike force to the bowels of Middenheim where, after a tremendous battle, Order managed to
prevail after losing virtually their entire force. Archaon himself was cast into the Warp. However just as
they were about to achieve tentative victory by sealing the portal, Mannfred von Carstin disrupted the

ritual and ruined the world.

Implications: See Weakness section. Chaos has experience with a coalition of foes fighting them at
once . That said this was a coalition of, quite literally, every remaining non-Chaos faction at this juncture
and even they struggled to achieve a victory.

The Realm of Souls is a truly unique

place. Operating in a timeless
realm connected to countless
universes the Realm of Souls, or
the Warp. Daemons, as the
denizens of this realm, can use
these pathways to travel to untold
realities. Given their immortality it
is thus possible for Daemons to
have fought the ancient races of
Warhammer, such as the Old Ones,
Centaurs and the race of intelligent
Giants. More than that it is actually
possible for these same daemons
to fight in Warhammer Fantasy to have fought in 40k. Liber Chaotica has confirmed that, through the
warp, there is a medium between these two universes.
However bear in mind that Daemons are subject to the real world when interacting with it. There is
absolutely zero evidence (from 4e on) that Daemons can achieve anywhere nears the power they have
in 40k, even if these are the same daemons. There is no appearance of the daemon engines or any 40k
specific daemon units either, in 40k. I personally hypothesize that Chaos, as subject to the thoughts and
emotions of the mortal realm, might also be subject to the conceived notions of power of that realm.
Or, in other words, Chaos might scale up or down compared to the power of the mortals they are facing.
This is, however, an unconfirmed fan theory.

Though the majority of the legions of Chaos travel in vast armies, navy battles are numerous in
Warhammer. Often the scenarios involving such naval warfare are Chaos attempting a seaborne
invasion, Norscan raids or even harassment of enemy supply lines. When necessary Chaos has a number
of warships and even monsters to deploy in battle.
Some terminology before going forward
Man OWar: This is essentially a capital ship or battleship, a mighty vessel usually hard won and which
has an important figure in it. These ships are heavily armed and usually include elite boarding crews
such as Huscarls, Chaos Warriors or even Sorcerors. They are rarer by this virtue.
Ship of the Line: These ships are more common and comprise the majority of the Chaos fleet. They are
usually lighter, faster and more expendable. The boarding crews here are usually going to be something
weak like Bondsmen and Chaos Cultists, which would have little armor if benefit from being ferocious in
combat.
Boarding Teams are quite common among Chaos which heavily favors melee combat. Chaos vessels are
also somewhat primitive compared to some other vessels among the setting, usually relying on
oarsmen and sails rather than steam engines or the like.
*In determining an edge in sea battles, it is always imperative to also factor in aircraft as well. In
addition to the aerial units already previewed, Chaos has been known to bring extra Chaos Dwarf rocket
batteries, Skaven warpfire batteries

The Norse are renowned across the world across the world as warriors and sailors. They are a sea
raiding group akin to the Viking invaders of our world and stated to be some of the best sailors in the
Old World. Their ships have devastated the Kislev and Northern empire coastline and have raided as far
south before as Araby and Lustria. The Norse scorn ranged weaponry and prize speed and melee in
combat. Occasionally some have been known to hire themselves mercenaries to other races.

Ship Class: Ship of the Line (Line infantry of ships)

Weapons: Boarding Team
A Norse Kingship is galley heavily laden with treasure that serves as a Norses leader own personal boat
or that of his key retinue. It is fast and speedy, crewed by some of the finest warriors among the
Norsemans retinue. However other than the occasional archer it lacks ranged weapons completely and
thus the only way it can successfully compete in battle is through boarding teams. Using its speed this
vessel will attempt to dodge enemy projectiles before taking the enemy to melee with elite Huscarl,
Beserkers and Ulfrenwar (werewolf) warriors leading the attack backed by skilled bondsmen. See Chaos
Marauders for descriptions for these characters.

Ship Class: Ship of the Line

Weapons: Boarding Team

Longships are the standard ship of the Norse fleet, crewed by a mixture of warriors and slaves known as
Thralls. These thralls however shouldnt be considered noncombatants or innocent victims and are
indeed as bloodthirsty as their masters. The Norse christen these ships through a rather gruesome
ceremony where they launch their vessels over the living bodies of slaves and captives, to crush them as
sacrifices to their sea gods to ensure good weather and calm seas.
In battle Longships serve somewhat as expendable fodder for the Kingship . Norse commanders have
been known to order these ships to be chained up to form an enormous fighter platform before being
driven into an enemy fleet.

Within the Sea of Chaos Chaos Fleets constantly fight each other to gain superiority. Eventually, the
overall winner of this fight often combines the vessels of the losers into one overall Plaguefleet that
precedes to devastate the civilized world.

Ship Class: Man Of War (Capital Ship)

Weapons: Boarding Team, Giant Cannon, Hammer of Khorne
A Khorne Bloodship is a fearsome vessel to behold. It is a vast towering war machine that grinds across
the surface of the waves, its armored prow snapping open and shut like some great beast's maw. The
massed banks of its beaten bronze oars cut through the water at inhuman speed, and deep within its
titanic hull great drums beat incessant rhythms. As its jaws open, whirling blades and pounding
hammers spring forth, and great gouts of flame roar skyward.
The principle ranged weapon of the Bloodship is a pair of massive cannons that fire Napatha coated
screaming skulls at artillery range . These skulls have been filled with molten lead to increased weight
and produce shrapnel when landing, as have as having the potential to set the enemy ship on fire. For
closer range is the Hammer of Khorne, which is the jaws of the vessel. When approaching the enemy
vessel it will spray fire onto the enemy before stretching all the way out and closing. This damages the
enemy ship and locks it in place, allowing for a crew of Chaos Warrior marines on the ship to board the
vessel.

Ship Class: Ship of the Line

Weapons: Shark Mouth, Boarding Team
The Ironsharks are perhaps the strangest and most evil looking ship of the Chaos fleet. Each has a giant
metallic shark mouth comprising of the front portion of the ship. Crewed by the most crazed of cultists
these ships are rammed into the enemy, their iron jaws snapping and slamming into the victim. Then
Chaos cultists flood over the ramp onto the enemy ship. These cultists are lightly armored compared to
the Chaos Warriors but make up for it in passion and ferocity.

Ship Class: Man of War

Weapons: Boarding Team,Slaaneshi Radiance and Incense

Slaanesh Hellships are graceful, sinuous ships painted in intricate patterns and radiant colors. The vast
silk sails glisten and glimmer as they softly shift with the wind, and a halo of pale pastel light glows
around them.
The superstructure of a Hellship resembles a great domed palace illuminated from within by a soft
pastel light. Beams of bright colour radiate from its core, stabbing out across the waves from arched
partals draped in heavy silks. Ships touched by the shafts of light are bathed in a glowing corona that is
bewitching to look upon.
Closer to the Hellship, plumes of brightly colored incense billow from an aperature at the peak of the
dome, and slide down the sides of the vessel in heady, rolling clouds that settle on the surface of the
water.Thus masked from sight, only the entrancing strains of bizarre melodies and the ecstatic screams
of the crew reveal the Hellship's presence, the noise beckoning insidiously to the crews of ships that
venture too near.
In keeping with the philosophy of Slaanesh, this Hellships main weapons are not steel or plague, but the
allure of Chaos itself. The first, the radiance of Slaanesh, is a giant purple beam with artillery range that
can be fired at a single ship at a time. Once shined on the enemy ship it implants treasonous thoughts in
the heads of the crew. Depending on enemy will the crew might defect and start a murderous killing
frenzy against the loyal crew. The closer the Hellship is to the enemy ship, the greater the potency of the
weapon. Only willpower can resist the treason inducing effects otherwise the ship is thrown into chaos,
as formerly loyal friends fight each other to the death. In the best case scenario the Chaos forces seize
control of the ship, though the newly victorious treasonous crew is too mind addled to do anything with
it.
The second weapon is the Incense of Slaanesh, which is deployed during boarding actions. This engulfs
the Slaaneshi and enemy vessel in a sweet smelling enchanted mist that also has a chance to have the
weak willed defect to Slaanesh.

Ship Class: Ship of the Line

Weapons: Giant iron spike (Hellrammer), Scythe blades (Hellslicer), Boarding Crews
Slaanesh Hellrammers are lithe, low ships armed with a huge iron spike to pierce their enemies' hulls.
Little adorns their uncluttered decks as needless decoration would only slow them down. Besides the
fearsome looking spike, which dwarfs the massive rams of other vessels, a single cannon battery
projects from each Hellrammer's bow, firing on the target ship as the ship approaches.
Slaanesh Hellslicers are strange ships to behold. They are basically Wargalleys, but have huge scythe
blades mounted on the top of strong masts. As a Hellslicer approaches a target, the blades begin to
rotate. As they gather speed, the huge knoves merge into a deadly, glittering arc, and make an eerie,
keening sigh as they slice through the air. These will then cut through enemy masts. It seems that the
purpose of this ship is to cut away an enemys ability to escape.

Ship Class: Man of War

Weapons: Plague Catapult, Boarding Team, mere presence
Plagueships of Nurgle are hideous to behold. They are huge, rotund vessels lashed together from
mildew-ridden, slimy planking. They fly vast, ragged and rotting sails from their uneven and splintered
masts. Their great treadwheels lazily churn the sea as they plod forward under a cloud of flies. Behind
them, the Plagueships leave a trail of disgusting detritus, polluting the sea and killing fish for miles
around. If ships follow this trail directly, they catch the plague. Cackling Chaos Spawn and Nurglings
swarm over their slippery, rotten decks.
The stench of a Plagueship passing causes even the strongest stomach to retch as the foul smell of this
immense tub-like vessel drifts downwind. A plague ship can travel under sail or by paddle. Plague
catapults are the principal weapons onboard a Plagueship. They are loaded down with plague-spores,
excrement, rotting material and the infectious filth of decay. The plague can incapacitate enemy crews
or decay and rot ships. As Plagueships of Nurgle plod across the seascape, they leave a stinking trail of
fetid slime behind them. This trail can rot ship hulls that come in contact with it.In boarding actions to
the enemy ship must deal with plagues every instance, though fortunately the Plagueship is slow.

Ship Class: Ship of the Line

Weapons: Plague Catapults x2, Boarding team. Deathgalley has Boarding Team, Chaos Spawn
Plaguecrushers are bizarre looking vessels, mounting a huge siege tower on the foredeck, built from
whatever rotting and diseased timbers can be found. Protected by this tower from grapeshot and
arrows, the Plaguecrusher can close with the enemy vessels before its slime dripping plagues catapults
lob their filth laden missiles at their targets. Like the Plagueships this will unleash plagues on the enemy
decks.
The Deathgalley is a fast ship like the Norse vessels that can serve any of the four gods. They are loaded
up with eager Chaos Cultists and occasionally Chaos Spawn. These vessels favor boarding action but also
do have a cannon on board.

Ship Class: Ship of the Line

Weapons: Bolts of Change, Boarding Team
These strange ships are constructed in a manner seemingly incomprehensible to the men of the empire.
These vessels hover lazily along the Winds of Magic right above the ocean waves. Each of these vessels
is highly resilient to damage. They are capable of drifting motionless for hours before accelerating
forward at incredible speeds. This is a random mechanism, dependent on the Winds of Magic.
Sometimes these are so fast that the human eye can barely track the movement; other times it moves
as a snail pace. Though generally it can fly over sea level ground, if it runs into an obstacle like a hill it
might crash into it. It is a Hovering vessel after all, not a flyer.
The Tzeentch Great Winged Terror has a very unique manner to dealing with enemy blows. When it is
hit by an enemy the magical energy powering the vessel absorbs the blow, rendering no physical
damage to the vessel. Like a forcefield in that way. However once the forcefield is broken by enough hits
the entire vessel is destroyed, without having to do physical damage.
At range the Tzeentch Great Winged Terror blasts enemy with artillery sized bolts of change, which
presumably works like the WarpFire spell. When it comes to boarding enemy forces engaged with the
crew of this vessel have a 1/6 chance of turning, upon death, into a Pink horror.

Ship Class: Man OWar

Weapons: Bolts of Change, Boarding Team
When a Chaos Sorceror takes to seas part of a Chaos Fleet he will always be aboard a Bane Tower of
Tzeentch. This strange vessel resembles a huge floating castle, suspended above the waves on a glowing
nimbus of light and bathed in a veil of lightning bolts that crackle across its hull. The Bane Tower shares
many of the same rules as the Great Winged Terror. These include random movement, the bolts of
change fired at long range, hovering (and into obstacles), how it takes damage and the Prink Horror rule
for boarding.

Much feared throughout the world, the Chaos Dwarf Fleet has, along with the Dwarf fleet, entered the
steampunk era. These vessels are propelled by Iron Engines and mounted with all sorts of hellish
artillery. They are the terror of the Eastern Sea, and would devastate coastal towns on the Old World
too if it were not for the Elves at the Fortress of the Dawn, who keep them rounding the Southlands.

Ship Class: Man OWar

Weapons: Rocket Battery; Giant Mortar
The Thunderfire Battlebarge is a massive ship with towering gothic superstructures and surprising
mobility. These things carry a massive rocket battery that holds multiple 20 foot rockets. These rockets
must be loaded very carefully, for if not the rocket might well explode and take out the entire ship!
Other common problems include the potential to misfire, to jam or even for the barrel to split. However
assuming it is fired this salvo of rockets hits with enough force to take out basically any single ship in
Warhammer and it is capable of melting steel in seconds.
The Great Leveller, meanwhile, replaces the rocket battery for one massive, giant mortar. This mortar is
so incredibly large that the ships it hit are described as snapping in half like twigs. However to
compensate this battlebarge is extremely slow and basically drifts along when not firing. Like the
Thunderfire there is a chance of the mortar misfiring, jamming or even exploding on the ship.

Ship Class: Man OWar

Weapons: Giant Ram; Giant Steammroller
The Hull-Destroyers are among the fastest of the Chaos Vessels, surging forward close to the enemy to
pound them with rams. Once in close a mechanized piston pulls the ram-which runs the entire length of
the ship- back. On impact the ram braces forward dealing the enemy ship an incredible impact.
The thunder-Roller functions in a similar manner. Propelled by two steam engines, this vessel has a huge
iron roller mounted with spikes in front which churns up water as it moves. When in close it crushes
and tears enemies apart.

*Included here since I cannot edit the Skaven Profile

The ingenious Skaven have long coveted absolutely everything in their paths, from Dwarf holds to man
cities. The treasures of the sea are no exception. Clans such as Clan Skurvy and Skuttle employ vast
numbers of galleys with the Great clans taking their own interests in these ships. The Clans are known to
use both paddlewheels (think waterborne hamster wheels, but giant) and unstable warp reactors for
their ships for increased speed. In boarding actions they will unleash legions of clanrats and slaves to
overwhelm the enemy vessel and take it for their own.

Ship Class: Ship of the Line

Weapons: Great Bell
The Skaven Doombringer sits in the center of the Skaven fleet. This is the flagship that so often carries
the warlord or the grey seer leading the force from their nature post in the rear. Mounted at the top of
the ship is an enormous Great Bell, with hundreds of slaves attending the device at all times. The ship is
propelled by two massive paddlewheels driven by hundreds of slaves running endlessly along their
edges.
In combat the Great Bell will be wrung every few seconds, its cacophony driving the Skavne to insane
zeal. Every ring of the bell brings a new effect. It might cause the enemy to cower in fear, unable to
move or even jump overboard. It might see them misfire their weapons as steel snaps or even do

structural damage to the enemy ship. In the worst case scenario it can outright sink any ship within its
artillery range. However, as with all Skaven projects, there is a risk of misfire and thus exploding the
Bell.

Ship Class: Ship of the Line

Weapons: Incense Carrier; Warpfire Thrower
The Ships of Clan Pestilens are designed to carry their poisonous vapors to the enemy. Attached at the
top of the ship is a giant incense ball. As this vessel moves across the waves it
wafts vapors into the air. Any who inhale the fumes- friend or non-Pestilens
foe- will die a poisonous, painful death with bubbling green liquid boiling from
their lungs and blistering their skin. These fumes are likely subject to the wind
but the giant incense mace can be used as bludgeoning device against enemy
ships, if necessary.
The Warp Raider is a vessel piloted only by the most insane of Skaven sailors
(or slaves forced into this position). Attached to each ship is a giant, highly
unstable warpstone reactor capable of moving forward at great speeds with
the occasional risk of stalling completely. Once the rats get in range they
unleash a huge tank of boiling warp-napatha, connected by pipes to a single
turret. This turret then unleashes jets of flame in the same manner as Greek

fire of Old.with the increased risk of exploding randomly, destroying the Warp Raider.

All manner of hateful ocean-dwelling creature was stranded upon the ground around them, flopping
back and forth impotently. He saw all sorts of fish, many of which had gaping mouths filled with razorsharp teeth. He saw a shark easily three times the size of his horse, and it thrashed back and forth
furiously. It was no natural beast, that, and he recognised the touch of Chaos upon it - dozens of
grabbing tentacles surrounded its tooth-filled maw, and clusters of hate-filled eyes glared at him from
the side of its broad head-Knights of Brettonia
It was felt before it could be seen or smelt or heard. The druchii felt he atrocitys presence like a foulness,
a spiritual contagion that spread a skein of slime across their souls. It was the phantom touch of raw
evil not the petty evil as mortal beings imagined it, but the cosmic malignance that profaned the very
essence of reality. It was the hate of things impossible and unborn, the bitterness of what could not be,
the profaneness of the unknown.
From the depths, it slobbered upwards, a heaving undulation of carrion-meat, flesh bloated and necrotic.
It had some semblance of form about it. The things that grappled the sides of the black ark were as much
like arms as they were branches; the things that oozed from the ends of those arms were not unlike
titanic hands. From each hand, ropy coils that rudely simulated fingers snaked around the towers,
corroding stone and iron with their touch, engulfing flesh and bone until their victims were absorbed into
the necrotic essence of the tendril that gripped him.

There was a head, of sorts, and it squatted upon bony, cadaverous shoulders. It was something like a
skull that had been wrapped in a veil of slime and decay, each line of bone clearly defined yet still
obscured by the encrustations it had accumulated. Hagworms writhed from the things sunken cheeks,
while anemones and polyps squirmed between its teeth. Four cavernous hollows flanked a gash-like
nasal opening. In the depths of those hollows, flickering at the ends of fleshy ribbons, were hundreds of
blazing red orbs. As the behemoth surged upwards and wrapped its arms about the black ark, the eyestalks extruded themselves outwards, whipping about the skull-like face to peer and probe the world the
abomination had invaded.-Deathblade
Just as with the land, Chaos can corrupt the sea as well. There is a reason the seas in Warhammer are so
dangerous. In Knights of Brettonia the blood of the followers of Khorne made the sea creatures as
bloodthirsty as the Khornates, leading to the masses of sharks, fish, orcs, crabs and more going all out,
and sometimes even out of the water, to try to kill things. Chaos can warp creatures into versions bigger
than themselves such as the megaladon shark, Black Leviathan and more.

In Warhammer all magic comes

from one source; the Winds of
Chaos, which themselves come
from the great Realm of Chaos.
According to Liber Chaotica magic
is the force of the Aether
interacting with the physical
plane, while spellcasting is the
interaction of this metaphysical
energy and the physical things of
the mortal realm, controlled and
directed by an attuned magical
individual. Though magic comes
from an inherently chaotic realm
when it interacts with the
physical it takes on some rules,
such as manifesting as different
colors.
Below are the many different lores available to the children of chaos. Some are general, such as the
Lores of Death or the Wild; others very specific, such as that of Tzeentch or Hashtut. It should be noted

that, unlike 40k magic spells, these do not always automatically bypass armor unless otherwise noted,
and effectiveness will always be modified by that. However all magical attacks and conjurations are
considered of magical prowess, capable of affecting immaterial ghosts and demons, and of a
particularly higher plain of effect than the physically mundane.

All spells are listed in order from weakest and most basic to the strongest, which usually requires master
wizards to successfully cast. Or in the case of a weaker more ambitiously impatient wizard, more magical
power to be available. Just like Warhammer 40k, this list should not be taken as an all-inclusive nor
exhaustive; there are literally tens of thousands of spells in Warhammers existence. The example spells
I put into the profiles come from the latest iterations of the Armybooks however spells from previous
ABs are also valid.
Most Lores of Magic practiced by any race will have weak, but easily learned and well known spells
known as signature spells. They are so common that practically every wizard learning the lore knows
them. Other spells are more unique in taste and use, and it is unlikely and rare to find two wizards in the
same army group to know the same spell. As few are detailed a lot of new the magic of individual lores
can be considered by archtype as they share standard rules and archtypes. For example the Lore of
Slaanesh is all about temptation and mental willpower, while Tzeentch's relies on physical mutation and
madness.
Magic in Warhammer is low-inclusion but powerful. This means that most low-end spells in
Warhammer can affect a half or a dozen at once, with medium power ones going in affecting dozens
and the rare (but not ultra-rare) high end affecting even hundreds at once! The specific numbers given
below are their official stats in game, but the amount affected can be higher (or weaker) in lore.
However this comes at a cost, as magic in Warhammer is both harder to control then other fictions and
there are comparably fewer mages. Even for battles where one side has many tens of thousands, it is
rare to see more than a dozen mages in a force. Chaos may have slightly more mages proportionately
then other WF factions, but even then I would have a hard time seeing a starting force of 50k Chaos
exceeding 100 magic users.
The increased strength and power of each spell makes it harder to cast, requiring a greater collection
from the Winds of Magic pertaining to that particular lore for its use, though the more skilled a wizard
is, the easier they can absorb and safely cast the spells. Personal stamina does factor into the amount
these wizards can cast too, and they will find themselves increasingly drained the more they cast .
Potent spells will exhaust them very quickly.

The Winds of Magic is the raw essence of magic, unrefined, interacting with the physical realm.
According to High Elven lore these then take the form of different colors which can be isolated from
the rest and directed by skilled wizards.

Aqshy, the red wind, is the part of the Winds that is most affected by experience and passion. Emotions
such as brashness, courage, enthusiasm, aggression, excitement etc. fall within its wing, and those that
practice the use of fire are slowly molded into more impulsive, passionate individuals. It collects around
open flames, volcanoes and dry deserts scorched by the sun. It is also attracted to wherever there is
excitement and argument, courage and vehemence, since Aqshy is the Aethyric coalescence of passion
in its widest possible sense. It is thanks to this habit of collecting around fire that Bright Wizards can
extend their winds duration a little longer than most other lores, for they are constantly creating more
fires!
Fire wizards have the lore attribute kindle flame which means all fire attacks do double damage against
a foe who has already been hit by a flame attack.

-Fireball: Not surprisingly the

basic attack of the Lore of Fire
is the fireball. The power and
range of the Fireball is
variable, with more powerful
wizards capable of increasing
this magical abilities strength
(with the draw off of being
harder to cast and uses more
magic). At the low-end it can
have a range of 300 meters
and strike multiple targets at
once.
Before I kill you it is only right that you should know the name of the one who has robbed you of your
strength, your art and your life, so that when your soul has become the plaything of daemons you will be
tormented for all eternity by the knowledge, the Chaos sorcerer declared cruelly. I am Vendhal
Skullwarper and the warping storms of Chaos are mine to command! the sorcerer pronounced, his voice
rising above the howling of the storm and its Chaos-spawned offspring.
And I, growled a sweat-streaming Gerhart, am Gerhart Brennend, pyromancer of the Bright order
and keeper of the keys of Azimuth. Now burn in hell, you bastard! and with that the fire mage released
the spell he had been holding backone last magical missile that burned with the intense heat of a
volcano.
The monstrous fireball, a flame-wreathed screaming skull of a comet, blasted at the sorcerer, hitting
him with all the force of a meteorite crashing to earth. Possessed of a supreme arrogance in his own
abilities, the gloating sorcerer had fallen for Gerharts piece of ham acting, and had left himself open to a
close range attack.
Vendhal Skullwarper was sent flying through the whirling air by the impact of the fireball and smashed
through the burning bricks and mortar of a building. With a ravenous roar, the blazing timbers of the
structures roof gave way, crashing down on the sorcerer in a great cloud of blossoming sparks.Magestorm

-Cascading Fire Cloak: The Wizard surrounds himself and his closest allies with a cloak of fire, which
scorches nearby foes attempting to attack in melee.

-Flaming Sword of Rhun: Upon targeting a

friendly unit within 300 meters (or 1 kilometer
if the wizard is very good) can get all their
weapons magically augmented via this spell,
which causes them to burn continuously.
These weapons now count as magical and
flaming attacks, so they can hit magical
creatures otherwise immune (ghosts) and
cause their targets to burn.

-The Burning Head: The wizard conjures up a

cackling which then bounds towards the
enemy like a bouncing cannonball. Any enemy
caught up within its bounce, which can go on
for up to a 100 meters, gets burned and may
even cause some in said afflicted unit to panic!
A skilled wizard can extend this range to 500
meters.
-Piercing Bolts of Burning: Focusing all of his mystical might, the Fire Mage conjures giant burning
magical projectiles and unleashes them on any unit within 300 meters (1 kilometer if high end). Each
rank of the target unit is then pounded by spear-sized burning bolts.

-Fulminating Flame Cage: With outstretched hands, searing flames shoot towards the enemy and seek
to surround them in a fiery prison. Those caught in it are slowly burned to a crisp, while those trying to
escape must leap through a ring of fire. Has a range of 300 meters and has to be channeled

-Flame Storm:
A roar of flame bursts from the battlefield, the roar of its creation almost drowning out the screams of
its creation. A typical fire storm has a radius of ten meters, though a better wizard can extend that to 20.
In both cases once created the column then explodes outward, extending briefly the flame several
meters at least, up to a max of 25 meters for the smaller storm and 50 m for the larger storm.

Ghur, the Brown Wind, the Wind of Beasts, is the antithesis of order. It is attracted to Wild animals and
places, and starts to flee when near cities or other aspects of civilization. Not surprisingly the unit power
of this wind makes it easier to cast on Beasts and animals rather than people. Ghur can inspire beastial
terror among men , enhances senses or even summon wild beasts!

-Wyssans Wildform: This spell, with a range of fifty meters (or 300 with increased effort), unleashes the
beast within his allies, shaping its fury to make a target unit or squad stronger and tougher.

-Flock of Doom: With a bellowed command a horde of crows is summoned to peck at a chosen units
eyes, any within 300 meters or a kilometer for the stronger variant.

-Pains Impenetrable Pelt: Calling upon the Beast Spirits of the Wild, the wizard temporarily covers
sheathes his vulnerable flesh in layers of thick hide and fur. Essentially this makes the wizard (or
whoever he casts it on) much, much tougher to hurt. Through additional effort he can cast it on all
important characters within 50 meters.

-The Amber Spear: Sounding a Gnarled horn, the wizard conjures up a glowing giant amber spear which
is then hurled at any enemy within 300 meters, ignoring armor entirely. It functions just like a ballista
and can penetrate multiple individuals at once, to a max of six. With increased effort the wizard can
summon a larger spear that can penetrate up to ten enemies at once or wound even the most
monstrous and armored of creatures.

-The Curse of Anraheir: Summoning nebulous and insubstantial spirits, the wizard then has them seek
out a target squad and claw at them. This provides a potent distraction for the enemy as they struggle to
move across terrain while being clawed at and struggle to hit the enemy. Can be cast on any enemy
across 500 meters or, with increase charge, any enemy across a whopping ten kilometers!

-The Savage Beast of Horros: An extreme upgrade of Wyssans Wildform, the Savage Beast of Horros
fully unlocks the beast within. This powerful spell is then targeted on a fellow hero or champion, making
them drastically stronger and much, much more ferocious in combat. As a result they hit far harder and
attack much faster. With increased casting effort, the wizard can target all heroes or champions within
50 meters to give them this buff.

-Transformation of Khodron: The ultimate expression of mastery of Beasts, the wizard when he uses
this power transforms into a truly monstrous creature. This can include chimeras, manticores, hydras or
even dragons! While the wizard cannot use magical items or cast spells when in this form, he doesnt
need to and is significantly more powerful. The only drawback is that very rarely the wizard cannot
transform back however most of the time in battle he wont need to.

A lore of magic exclusive to the Beastmen, this lore seems to carry many similar traits to the Lore of
Beasts in that its users often deliberately abstain from civilization. However the difference is degree, and
while ordinary Lore of Beast users (known as Amber wizards in the Empire for example) abstain from
civilization, those that practice this lore (Bray-shamans) actively want to tear it down. Whereas the Lore
of the Wild has evidence in nature and is as neutral as that, the Lore of the Wild appears to emphasize
only the malevolent aspects of beasts and nature, its users far more evil and afflicted by Chaos.

Exerting his will, Malekith tried to seize back the magical power being leeched by the shaman, but he
could not stop the vile spell. A thick black cloud of flies erupted from that staff, its buzzing deafening,

blotting out all other sound. The swarm lifted above the beastmen and flew straight for the Naggarothi,
but it was not the sight of the droning cloud that so disturbed Malekith. He could sense the dark energies
writhing within the living fog; like the stench of rot or soured milk the magic flooded Malekith's unearthly
senses.
The fly cloud descended on the elves with an ear-splitting hum. Where each fly landed, it brought decay.
Armour began to spot with rust, and wooden spear shafts grew weak with mildew. Malekith saw an elf
flailing at the swarm with his shield, but within moments it had split and disintegrated into orange dust.
Plates of armour cracked, leather split and frayed, and scale links turned to a rusted mass.
Suddenly, like a great inhalation, the magic disappeared. Like a cleansing wind blowing through thick
smoke, something new disturbed the mystical flow of energy, dissipating it. The swarm dissolved in the
air, leaving the Naggarothi swinging rusted gauntlets and broken spear staves into thin air. The breeze
became stronger and then grew into a consuming immaterial whirlwind, like a great gulf that had
opened up under the sea to swallow all the waters.- The Sundering: Maleketh
-Bestial Surge: The shaman inflames the Beastmans uncontrollable urge to rip a enemy limb from limb,
causing them to surge forward in a roaring, bellowing mass. In effect this causes every Beastman within
25 meters of the caster to, with inhuman agility and speed, rush forward to the nearest foes.

-Viletide: Unleashed upon a single squad, this spell summons a massive horde of spiders, centipedes,
and beetles to swarm over any enemy within 500 meters.

-Devolve: Cast on any enemy within 50 meters, this spell magnifies the target units animalistic and
savage parts until they are little more than growling beasts. The effectiveness of this spell is dictated by
how strong enemy morale, discipline and willpower is.

-Bray Scream: In a move that ignores armor, the Bray-Shaman only any Beastman that he blesses roars a
cry of supernatural hatred and contempt. This roar is so intense that it smashes eyeballs and mashs
brains of those within the screams immediate presence.

- Traitor-kin: Calling out the War-beasts of the enemy, the Bray-Shaman drives a red-hot spear of wrath
into their hearts, causing them to turn against those that dare tame them. Every enemy unit within 50
meters that rides a beast is affected, with a modifier being how loyal the beast is to the enemy.
The shamans ragged ears pricked. His eyes opened and rotated in their sockets. Interlopers. Intruders on
unholy ground. Fresh sacrifices for the herdstone. His thick tongue wrapped itself around curses and
ancient bewitchments.

Emils horse reared with sudden savagery. The squire instinctively moved, sending his bolt wide. The
quarrel tugged at the shamans rags and shattered off the herdstone behind. The squires steed was not
itself. The creature was glazed of eye and flashing out with its hooves. Emil ducked and backed from out
of the cover of the obelisk as his horses shoe sparked off the stone. The packhorse was similarly affected,
hawing and bucking the corpse of Yurian Spartak from its back. This had nothing to do with the dead
warrior of Chaos, Kastner decided. This was the shaman asserting its control over the wild natures of its
beast-kin.
Kastner watched as Oberons eyes glazed over like a northern lake. The stallions lips curled back from
the long pegs of its teeth. The knight had to act fast. Kastner ran at the steed, his mail and plated fist
bringing his crusader shield up, smashing the horses skull aside. The animal stumbled backwards, both
the sense and spells influence knocked from it. Legs faltered and the stallion crumbled and crashed to
the ground unconscious. from Archaon: Everchosen
-Mantle of Ghorok: This buff blesses the spirit of Ghorok, a minotaur legendary for its ferocity, on any
character within 50 meters of the Bray-Shaman. This character gets massive strength and ferocity buffs,
allowing him to hit far harder and faster. However at times the spirit of Ghorok is dangerous for the
wielder, and it might tear them apart.

-Savage Dominion: The Bray-Shaman sends his mind winging to the wilds to find the largest creature it
can find, be it Chaos Giant, Jabbescythe, Ghorghon or other creature. They then bring it back to the
battlefield to unleash vengeance on the enemy. The Bray-shaman cannot cast other spells while doing
this, and should he be slain it usually results in the creature breaking free. However there are some
accounts of the possession lasting after death, with the Beastlord now having a new body.
Account of several Beastmen spells in action:

I have seen a bray-shaman, when I was a young battle wizard. My flesh creeps at the memory. It was
leading a warband of fithy half-human brutes as they ravaged a settlement north of Altdorf. Yes, even so
close to our glorious capital, these half-breeds plot our destruction. The regiment I was attached to was
ordered to rescuethe settlement and destroy the herd.

As we stalked through the undergrowth, hoping to take the beastmen by surprise, I noticed a crow,
flitting from tree to tree alongside us. In retrospect I should have killed the ill-omened bird, for the
beastmen knew of our advance, and we were ambushed. I am convinced that the shrike was the brayshaman metamorphosed.Beware even the birds and beasts of the forests, for they might be spies for
dark powers.

The bray-shaman snorted incantations from the rear of the attackers, and the beastmen were driven to
bloodlust by its presence, leaping at our soldiers with inhuman agility. A miasma of corruption
surrounded the creature twisted rams horns curled either side of the over-sized bear skull that it wore
on its shaggy head. Fierce yellow eyes glared from its matted fleece, daubed with brightly coloured mud.
It loped with a stoop, great protrusions of bone jutting from the hump on its back. Its left hand was a
withered claw, its right clutched a knotted staff decorated with a chain of rotting fingers. Where its
hooves scraped the ground, filthy, poisonous insects and worms writhed from the earth. Its touch
blighted the forest leaves.

The bray-shaman sensed my presence and I felt a stab of utter hatred in my mind as it issued an
unspoken challenge. It rattled its staff and the men either side of me fell on all fours, hooting and
snarling, ripping up grass with their teeth like deranged livestock. I was on my own. My sword flared
white with the power of Hysh, and I advanced on the beast, disembowelling its horned bodyguard.

I raised my searing blade to cut the shaman down, but it grinned with feral madness, raised its arms as
though to receive my strike and shrieked. The bray-shaman exhaled all its bitterness in that dreadful
wail, and it struck me like a furnace blast. My ears bled, and my right eye burst from its socket, and in
agony I fell to my knees. I would have died then, and my beleaguered regiment too, had not the sudden
whistle of arrows sliced the air. Many beastmen were cut down, and the survivors fled howling into the
shadows of the forest, the bray-shaman being the fi rst to run. Our rescuers never emerged from the
trees, but the arrows embedded in the flesh of our foes appeared to be of elven design.

Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay, Winds of Magic, pg29-30

Chamon is the yellow wind of magic, and is associated

with the Lore of Metal. Chamon is the densest of the
colors of magic, and is attracted to heavy metals such
as gold and lead. Spells involving Chamon frequently
make use of these two metals; gold as a magical
conductor, lead as a magical insulator. Compared to
other magics, Chamon is rooted in the physical world,
and it is relatively easy to get to grips with its basic
concepts, although it has deeper complexities which
make it difficult to truly master.

Chamon is an interesting lore in that its properties are

actually more effective against armored foes then
non, with heavy armor being most vulnerable to this
lore. Conversely those without armor at all or really
light ones are nearly immune. For allies this lore can
be used to strength or empower armor and weapons.

-Searing Doom: With a range of 300 meters, Sizzling

doom is a magic missile. Sizzling silver erupts from the wizards fingertips, killing up to 6-12 (dependent
on power behind cast) at a time via a most horrible fashion.

-Plague of Rust: At a wizards command, the armor of the enemy unit begins to rapidly decay away in
clouds of tiny flakes. The more powerful and durable the armor, the longer it takes; however the more
rewarding the plague will be. Can be cast on any unit within 300 meters or, with greater casting time, 1
kilometer.

-Enchanted Blades of Aiban: The wizard sends powerful magic coursing over allies weapons, making
them far sharper than before. Cast on any unit within 500 or 1 kilometer, this spell makes weapons
much better at piercing armor and counter as magical weaponry.

-Glittering Robe: Usually cast on a single unit within 50 meters, the wizard can, with additional effort,
cast it on ALL units within 50 meters. This spell conjures a large, shimmering, scale cloak to protect allies
and gives them a boost to armor proficiency.

-Gehennas Golden Hounds: This spell conjures a pair of massive golden hounds and sends them after a
target. These powerful hounds can be summoned right next to the enemy and only those exceptionally
durable or with great bodyguards will be able to fend them off.

-Transmutation of Lead: As the wizard extends his hand towards the enemy unit, their weapons
become twice as heavy, burdensome and unwieldy. This makes it harder for them to hit enemies or
even properly defend.

-Final Transmutation: With a incarnation the wizard targets a enemy unit and unleashes a spell that
transmutes them into unliving gold! Though some may escape the spells effect obviously this is a
devastating morale effect on the enemy. Worse some might be overcome by greed and attempt to
cover the riches as their own! Normally has a range of 100 meters, with some having 500 meters.

Ulgu is the grey wind of magic, and is associated with the Lore of Shadows. Ulgu is a mysterious wind,
which spreads disorientation and confusion amongst those it touches. It is spoken of as a thick grey fog,
and it is drawn to still lowlands and waterways where natural mists gather at dawn. Deception, mystery,
and illusions also instinctively draw this wind. Ulgu invokes the sensation of being lost, or perplexed by
something that you cant quite put your finger on. The Shifting Isles off the coast of Ulthran are
shrouded with the power of Ulgu, and provide an impenetrable maze to protect the isle from invaders.
Its wizards are masters of illusions. Their spells have minor teleportation woven within them, and they
can switch places with characters nearby, up to 100 meters nearby, after a spell is cast.

-Melkoths Mystifying Miasma: This spell conjures up a mystical numbing fog enemies to foolishly
wander about and stumble. Used on any unit within 1 kilometer (meaning it can be used on artillery)
this drastically reduces the accuracy and skill of that units range as well as makes their movement and
actions clumsy and uncoordinated.

-Steed of Shadows: Conjures a single flying shadow drake that can pick up a beleaguered friendly
character or the wizard himself and extends their movement to have flight characteristics.

-Enfeebling Foe: Deceived by the Grey Wizards magic, the enemies burdens become literally heavy,
sapping the strength of a enemy unit. Can be done on any unit within 100 meters or, through increased
casting, 500 meters.

-The Withering: This spell reaches into the minds of the foe, instilling feelings of doubt and weaknesses.
The mental weakness makes them more vulnerable to the enemy on the physical realm. Can be cast on
a enemy unit anywhere over 300 meters or, with more casting power, 500.

-The Penumbral Pendulum: A ghostly razor-edged pendulum swings above the wizard. At a command it
swings straight for the enemy and upon release bounces like a ghostly cannonball. Enemies that dont
move out of the way quick, and are unlucky to get hit by the bounce, die unless super durable. This
bounce has a max range of 500 meters or, if the wizard puts a lot of power into the cast, 3 kilometers!

-Pit of Shades: The Shadow wizard opens up a vortex to the infamous pit of shadows, swallowing up any
that dont get out of the way quick enough. Those that fall in a realm of infinite shadow and the wailing

of those that lie beyond. At its base the vortex is 10 meters wide, though with greater casting it be 20
meters.

-Okkam's Mindrazor :The Wizard summons phanstamal weapons for his allies that shred the folds of
consiousness and reason. Victims of these midrazor believe themselves slain, and so they die. Essentially
makes it so physical durability is near useless and instead mental durability- i.e. refusing to accept death
or believing themselves not dead- matters more. Can be targeted on any unit within 100 meters or,
with increased magical effort, 500 meters.

Shyish is the purple wind of magic, and is

associated with the Lore of Death. The power of
Shyish comes from the ending of things, the
slow decline of the soul, and the certainty and
terrible awe of death that all sentient creatures
must face at some point. Shyish tells us that
even though physical form must inevitably come
to an end, creation is permanent, and there
exist forces larger than our mortal selves that
deserve respect and even reverence. Shyish is
drawn to places where death must be faced, or
where things are brought to an end. It blows
strongly around battlefields, lingers around
gallows and courts of justice, and hangs in the
mournful silence around fresh graves. It is said
to be strongest around times of obvious
transition, when one state ends and another
begins. Dawn and dusk are the most obvious
examples of this, but also spring and autumn,
and the equinoxes that mark the beginning of
the end for winter and summer.

It is because of their ability to gain from slaughtering the enemy that wizards of the Lore of Death can
sometimes re-charge their Winds of Magic, utilizing their expended life force for energy, allowing
them to summon greater spells or cast more.

-Spirit Leech: The caster chooses a single enemy character (1) and tries to drain his soul. The success
depends on enemy overall willpower, with the greatly willful capable of fighting it off entirely. Has a
range of 50 meters normally, that can be via more energy extended to 300 meters.

-Aspect of the Dreadknight: The wizard targets a friendly unit within 300 meters and surrounds them
with a invisible aura of horror, making enemies scared to fight them. The wizard can upgrade this power
to make them even more horrifying, so that only the bravest would consider tangling with them.

-The Caress of Laniph: Laniph was a Arabian sorceress known for both her capriciousness and passions
that havent stopped after death. In casting this spell the wizard calls her back from the spirit world and
sics her on a single enemy character. While she might just caress him she has a chance of trying to
forcibly drag him back to the spirit world. Should the enemy not be strong enough to fight her off, shell
succeed. Has range of 50 meters or can be enhanced to 300.

-Soulbright: Harnessing the sickly power of death, the conjurer hexes a enemy unit and weakens his will
to live. This correlates into being slightly weaker and less durable in combat. Can be cast on any unit
within 300 meters or, with additional prowess, cast on all units within 300 meters.

-Doom and Darkness: With this terrible spell, the wizard has spirits of the departed assail a enemy unit,
sapping its willpower. This makes it easier and more likely to rout, along with its willingness to follow
orders. Has a range of 300 meters that can be upgraded to a range of about one kilometer.

-Fate of Bjuna: This odd little spell conjures the fate of the warrior of Bjuna, a powerful warrior
infamous for never smiling. He then laughed so hard his sides burst, perishing that way. This spell targets
a single enemy character and causes him to laugh uncontrollably, with the potential of his sides literally
bursting from the strain. Should he survive he still has giggling fits the rest of the battle, and thus wont
be totally mentally competent.

-The Purple Sun of Xerus: The lore of deaths most powerful spell, this conjures a colossal orb of purple
edged darkness over the battlefield.With a diameter of 9 meters, it will then start to roll in a direction
directed by the caster. Any that fail to get out of the way die immediately. How far it moves is a bit

random, but many dozens of meters easily. The wizard can, through increased casting, upgrade its
diameter to 20 meters!

However this power comes with a drawback, for death can be incredibly fickle. Should the wizard mess
up the cast the giant purple orb will always still appear, but directly on top of him! It will then roll in a
random direction for a couple dozen meters, killing those allies nearby (for wizards are usually near the
back of enemy armies).

In Warhammer divine magic refers to magic from the Realm of Chaos being channeled and focused
through a god, who can then mold the magic however he or she pleases. Thus Slaanesh ensures that all
of his magic is seductive and preys on the weak will, while Nurgle is all about plagues. Power and
mechanics wise there is little difference between regular magic and divine. Lorewise if a wizard messes
up any feedback he or she incurs is likely to come from divine punishment.

Hastut is the grim, evil god of the Chaos Dwarves.

Known affectionately as the Father of Darkness, this
god lends its aid to Chaos Dwarf sorcerers with
living fire that hungers to burn flesh. Those that are
already particularly flammable, such as ents, have a
lot to fear, as this fire is even more effective against
them then normal fire. This lore is exclusive to
Chaos Dwarfs.

-Breath of Hatred: An augment spell, the Breath of

Hatred causes any Chaos Dwarf unit within 50
meters to hate the enemy with all their heart,
making thme more formidable in combat. With
increased casting power the Chaos Dwarf sorcerer
can spread this to ALL Chaos Dwarves over 50
meters.

-Burning Wrath: The Sorcerer calls upon the fires of the deep earth and as a result a torrent of lava
erupts over the enemy unit, raining down on them. Typically this spell can reliably take down six at once
but with increased power this can be upgraded to twelve.

-Dark Subjugation: The Chaos Dwarf calls upon the Dark Will of his master to crush the will of his
enemies. Any unit within 300 meters must fight off the attempt (determined by morale, discipline and
willpower) or generally get more and more terrified, disorderly and gradual degradation in morale.
Unbreakable units, those without the concept of fear, are immune to this spell.

-The Curse of Hashtut: Channeling the malediction that infests his own twisted body, the Chaos Dwarf
targets a single enemy character. This character, unless exceptionally tough, has his bones begin to
petrify and flesh grow brittle before crumbling into dust. Has Range of 100 meters.

-Ash Storm: The Sorcerer summons up a cloud of hot volcanic ash with appears under a close by enemy
unit. The ash cloud stings the eyes of the unit members and causes coughing and spluttering from the
scalding of the lungs. Movement becomes hazardous and the unit struggles to fight at all under such an
onslaught. Wizards cannot cast except on themselves, assuming they manage to get an incarnation out
at all while choking. Any inside the ash cloud are exceptionally flammable.

-Hell Hammer: The Sorcerer conjures above him a giant immense ram of roiling energy that takes the
form of a giant hammer or bulls head. It then bounds across the battlefield with crushing force. Those
that dont get out of the way are crushed beneath the projectile, which can travel a whopping max of
100 meters under normal conditions, or 500 if upgraded.

-Flames of Azgorth: Fire leaps out of the Dawis mouth and eyes as they call upon their most terrible
incarnation of destruction, the ground cracking open and boiling lava exploding forth. Those directly
under the 9 meter hole are swallowed up by it, and more are wounded as it explodes outwards 25
meters in all directions. The sorcerer has line of sight range, and can with increased power increase the
hole size to 20 meters.

Nurgle, as the plague-god, blesses his followers with bodies bloated with decay and disease.
Not surprisingly those instruments of the plague god prefer to utilize plague-based spells when in
combat. Nurgle sees magic as a means to an end, something that can be utilized to spread his plagues,
not necessarily as an end itself. Thus while his practitioners generally lack the skills of their Tzeentch
counterparts, their disease based spells nevertheless are extremely potent.
However as Daemons and mortals are not equal, both receive different unique traits. His mortal
followers have a chance continually bloat themselves with pus and disease, which oddly enough actually
increases their vitality each time they cast their spells successfully. The gift is bestowed roughly 15% of
the time. Mortal wizards of Nurgle that had already cast a lot of spells can be exceptionally durable foes
to take down, requiring many consecutive hits with very powerful weapons.

A swordsman to Ursula's left coughed violently, his blade clattering from his grip as he collapsed
to his knees. The man next to him turned, only to drop his sword and shield and clutch his throat as he

too fell retching to the ground. Like corn scythed at harvest, a line of several dozen soldiers became
similarly afflicted, some running forwards gasping, others toppling into their comrades, who backed
away and began pushing and shoving amongst themselves to get away from the inflicted men.
'Sorcery!' snarled Ruprecht, pointing towards the robed figure still on the hill. 'Curses from the
Lord of Decay.'
'Shallya protect us,' whispered Ursula, as more and more swordsmen fell victim to the unnatural
plague or ran away from their infected countrymen. She ran forwards, Ulfshard blazing in her hand.
'Have faith!' she shouted, grabbing men and urging them back to the line. 'Resist their vile
spells!'
Seeing their maiden-champion joining them, many of the swordsmen recovered their nerve,
though fully a third of them lay dead or writhing at their feet. Even as the line was redressed and order
restored, the first of the Norse were within fifty yards. A forest of short spears appeared in their hands
and was launched through the air towards the defenders.-Heart of Chaos
For Daemons, Nurgles main advantage is that, every time a Nurgle-aligned wizard successfully casts a
spell on an enemy, there is a chance that more plaguebearers or small horde of nurglings appears on the
field. Lore-wise this is representative of slain/wounded enemies popping into Chaos pustule life, the
new daemons forming up as reinforcements to nearby brothers of their likeness. While this would
probably not produce a new plaguebearer on targets such as on a giant, it can potentially produce
Nurglings. It can be imagined that a festering wound on his arm or genitals rotting and growing coarse,
bubbling and moving until a Nurgling pops out, tries licking the area of the wound before falling off to
join its like-minded swarm. Praise Grandfather Nurgle for the gifts of the plague!

Steam of Corruption: The Signature spell of the wizards of Nurgle, steam of corruption is only applicable
in the wizards immediate presence, being a breath spell. When unleashed the Nurglites jaw distends
wide like a serpent before expending a stream of disease and filth that chokes and suffocates those near
him.
Alkhors foul laughter gurgled on the breeze. Its crow host cawed and chattered as a stream of utter
foulness retched from the daemons ugly mouth.
Thurgin and his clansmen were overwhelmed, drowned in a stinking mire of vomit. Dwarf skeletons, half
clad in rotting plate and scraps of burned leather, bobbed to the surface of the miasma. Hundreds died in
seconds, their gromril armour no defense against Alkhors disgusting gifts. The Great Betrayal,
extremely powerful Greater Daemon version
Miasma of Pestilence: The caster blesses a friendly unit with Nurgles ghastly odor, the spell being so
potent that enemies in close contact with said unit must try to fight while struggling to hold in their
vomit! Can be done on any unit within 100 meters, and this spell, with increased power, can be boosted

in potency. In that instance enemies must fight the nearby nurglites while suffering extreme bouts of
violent vomiting and diarrhea.

Blades of Putrefaction: The wizard blesses weapons of a choice unit to ooze with Nurgles foul
contagions. Cast on any one unit within 50 meters, this makes that units weapons poisoned. If already
poisoned, the effect becomes more potent.

Curse of the Leper: Can be cast on any single friendly or enemy unit within 100 meters, or 500 meters
with additional effort. If spoken on a friendly unit, that unit becomes blesses with Nurgles supernatural
resilience, becoming much tougher to attacks. If spoken on an enemy unit this unit gradually becomes
weaker and easier to kill in combat. Bones become brittle, movements become weary. In most extreme
cases limbs might fall off.
With a spine-splintering crash of wood, scores of Norscan longships ploughed into the docks, disgorging
rabid berserkers and huge armour-clad champions onto the shore. Men dropped even as they ran, bodies
marked not by arrow or spear but by blistering black abscesses on their throats. A block of Marienburger
regulars fought on amongst the rushing shapes, striking out with halberds while their captain whistled
furiously and their horn-blower sounded the order to rally and reform.
Marienburg stood, but without the mercenary auxiliaries and high elf naval power on which she had
come to depend she stood alone, and one by one her soldiers fell.
Plague! Cazarro cried, tearing off his helmet in a bid to clear the cotton wool fug from his head and
keeping shoulder-to-shoulder with his fellow Verezzians to either side as the company withdrew. They
did so with flawless disciple: pikes low, shields front. Ordinarily, Cazarro would have been proud. A
mercenary could fight for many things wealth, the honour of his regiment and the reputation of his
homeland.
But no man could fight a disease.
They fell into an alley. A warehouse loomed to the right and a shipwright to their left. The cramped air
smelled of guts and sawdust. Cazarro had hoped that discipline and the narrow front would confer an
advantage on their retreat, but if anything it was the reverse. Man-for-man, they had nothing to contend
with the might and fury of what came after them.
A Chaos warrior in bulky armour scarred by boils and verdigris hoisted a weeping axe and led a score of
howling warriors in a charge. Cazarro parried a sword thrust as the Verezzian to his left was cleft in two
by a downward slash of the barbarians axe. The man to his right met a Norscans blade with a clang,
then coughed blood and black spores as he fell in the grip of some seizure. Another man took his place
before he too was split open from hip to hip by a deathstroke of that infernal warriors axe. Men were

being carved open left and right. Even those to the rear were not spared, coughing and spluttering as
they fell to be trodden on by those that followed. The horror was as inescapable as the stink.
Retreat. Run. Back to the road.
Alvaro Cazarro cast down his sword and helm and ran.- Mariangburgs stand
Up ahead, Ethracs conjured cloud began to rain nameless black fluids onto the uniformed troops
marching down Suidstrasse. At first, only a handful of southerners dropped to their knees, coughing up
blood. A few moments later a scattering more had fallen, then a crowd. Those that had succumbed to
the clouds vile contagions found clusters of boils bubbling across their skin, blistering their tongues and
gumming their eyelids shut. The regiments champion shouted hoarsely in an attempt to restore order,
but it was no use.-Glotkin
Rancid Visitations: As the wizard reaches out, the enemy unit is seized by a terrible affliction that
blackens their flesh and turns organs into mush. However not all of this damage will be done at once. In
classic disease fashion it only kills a few (max 6) at once before continually spreading. The enemy unit
must rely on innate toughness, any magical resistance, or counterspells to dispel the disease lest the
entire unit be destroyed.

Fleshy Abundance: The wizard gifts a chosen friendly unit with a repulsive growth spurt. Great wobbling
mounds of grey-flesh spill out to seal wounds moments after they are hit. In essence this gives the
chosen unit Regeneration, or improves it greatly if they already have regeneration. Normally has a range
of 100 meters. However through a massive expenditure of energy the wizard can choose to give this buff
to all friendly units within 100 meters, creating a mass of highly durable troops.

Plague Wind: The wizard summons a swirling whirlwind of maggots, bile and blight-ridden fluids to eat
away at the enemys skin, flesh and soul. Though normally this storm has a diameter of 9 meters, with
additional effort this might increase to 20 meters diameter. It has the potential to move, once cast,
dozens of meters in random directions. Any caught within the storms must either be exceptionally
tough, magically resistance, or move out of the way quickly enough or else they will soon be naught but
flesh. However this spell has a blowback in that if the wizard messes up the spell it will still be
summoned, but summoned on top of him. It then travels in random directions, tearing through Chaos
forces as wizards usually take up positions in the back of combat.

Slaanesh is the god of pleasure, pain and all excess sensations. Not surprisingly his gifts are given to
those that inflict torture and despair. Like everything else, Slaanesh is constantly striving to try and
perfect his magic, for it is a means of power. He'll never succeed, for like every other god he is in a
predestined role and will never be able to match Tzeentch in this arena, however that doesn't stop him
from trying.
Slaaneshi magic is extremely reliant on willpower, with those of weak will falling in droves while the
strongest wills are all but immune to the powers of his followers. For mortal followers, whenever they
inflict some torturous death they are able to feed off its energy. At times this will increase via
supernatural means the wizards skill at arms, speed and reaction time.
For Daemons, Slaaneshs main advantage is that, every time a Slaanesh-alligned wizard successfully
casts a spell on an enemy, there is a chance that more Daemonettes or Fiends appear on the field. Lore-

wise this is representative of the power of Slaanesh growing as pain and sensation is inflicted by his
followers. These daemons always appear in the back-ranks.

Ahead of him he could see the Slayers, fighting amid a horde of beastmen and marauders and more
than holding their own. Dead and dying foes lay all around them. The Kislevites, heartened by their
presence, fought like men possessed. Here at least, it seemed possible to believe, if only for a moment,
that victory might be theirs. Another monstrous siege tower crashed into the wall. A smell something like
musk, something like perfume wafted into Felixs nostrils. For a moment, he thought nothing of it, but
then his skin started to tingle, and a ticklish sensation started at the back of his throat. He felt all of the
killing lust draining out of him, and turned to find the source of this delightful odour.
All around him, men and beastmen were doing the same, temporarily forgetting their enmity in their
desire to find the source of the sweet perfume. Felix saw a massive iron drawbridge crash onto the
battlements. Exotic, strangely beautiful, oddly familiar figures leapt forth from the siege tower, and
raced into the fray. They looked like shaven-headed women. Despite the chill, they were near naked,
wearing black leather tunics that revealed one perfectly formed breast. In place of one hand, they had
crab-like claws. In the other hand some held long stabbing swords, some held whips, some held nets.
Moving with an eerie grace they glided across the battlements. Wherever they went, men died. Felix
recognised them as creatures of Slaanesh, Lord of Unspeakable Pleasures.
Felix watched one huge Kislevite warrior who had only moments before slaughtered three beastmen
stand like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered while one of the beautiful woman things clipped off his head
with a claw. Instead of avenging him the mans comrades calmly waited for death to come to them. Felix
watched it all fascinated, and filled with an odd elation. There was something perfectly enthralling about
the whole performance: the grace of the females, the way the red blood glistened in perfect droplets on
the snow. There was something sensual and deeply arousing about it. He doubted he had ever seen
anything quite so attractive as the daemon women. It would be a pleasure to die at their hands. In fact,
he could hardly wait. He took a stride towards them, eager to feel deaths embrace.
Part of him, deeply buried in his psyche, screamed that it was wrong. Those were not women. They were
daemons. They were the enemy. Their musk or some other sorcery had him enchanted. Yet there was
nothing he could do about it. His feet kept moving as if they belonged to someone else, the sword
dangled limply from his fingers and it was all he could do not to let it slip to the ground. A smile was
frozen on his face. He could see the same smile written on the lips of other enthralled defenders.
A beastman aimed a blow at him. He did not want this. It would prevent him embracing the womanthing of his choice, an enchanting creature with pale white skin and ruby red lips. He ducked the blow
and took his assailants hand off at the wrist. As it fell backwards, he rammed his sword into its throat.
Behind him he could hear the sound of running feet, and the sound of something heavy hacking through
flesh like a butchers cleaver. Felix sincerely hoped it wasnt another rival for the favour of his chosen

one. He wanted to look back to make sure, but he could not keep his eyes off her. Look at the way her
smile revealed those gleaming ivory fangs!
Something rushed past him, and he almost stabbed it before realising that it was Gotrek. Did the Slayer
intend to challenge him for the she-daemons favours? He would see about that. Felix aimed a stab at
the Slayers back but something restrained him. He seemed unable to move his arm. Looking down, he
saw a massive hand was locked on his wrist. He tried to struggle but someone immobilised him with the
same ease with which he might immobilise a child.
Snorri thinks thats far enough, said a deep voice from somewhere around the region of his lower back.
Felix fought against the steely grip and raved curses as he saw what the cruel Slayer intended. Gotrek
moved among the Slaanesh worshippers. Their light weapons could not withstand his axe, which now
blazed lantern-bright with an evil red glow. One by one he chopped his way through them. They did not
die as human warriors might have. Instead, as they fell their bodies disintegrated into showers of sparks
and clouds of vile perfume. Smelling that stink broke the spell, and made Felix realise how close he had
come to being slain by its evil enchantment. All around him other human warriors appeared to realise
the same. They shook themselves, looked at their foes, and took up the fray once more. Beastslayer.
Sometimes the strong willed can disrupt the spell for the weaker.

Lash of Slaanesh: A long, lash-like energy tongue erupts from the wizards head and slashes forward into
ranks of enemies. This tongue has a range of 300 meters and is skilled at piercing armor. It might only hit
one or two enemies per rank, but it can go and attack multiple ranks.

Acquiescence: With a gesture the wizard engulfs a enemy unit in a haze of broken dreams and
unattainable desires. Though still capable of fighting, the distraction is potent enough that they are
sluggish in fighting and sometimes move in a daze. Has a range of 300 meters, however can be upgraded
with additional casting power to 1 kilometer.

Pavane of Slaanesh: The Slaaneshi wizard jingles a dark tune and curses a single enemy character,
causing them to jerk sporadically until bones break. Only the exceptionally disciplined and strongest
mentally can resist the song. Has a normal range of 300 meters, can be upgraded to one kilometer.

Hysterical Frenzy: The casters victims are engulfed in a torrent of unreasoning emotion, causing them
to claw at themselves in excruciating pain and blissful rapture. With a range 300 meters it can be cast on
any single friendly or enemy unit. Either way it drives the target into a bloodlust state, causing them to

fight more chaotically but fiercely. If the target is already in a frenzy then it makes them frenzier then
before. However in return to for going all out on the enemy (perceptive to whoever it was cast on) those
of the target unit hurt and kill themselves in such a state.

Slicing Shards: The wizard flicks his wrist and a cloud of razor sharp darts break from his hands, flensing
the target unit mind, body, and soul. Up to six can die at once. These darts count as armor piercing,
though the heaviest armor might yet slow them. Further damage is done as the magic darts continue on,
killing more and more until the either unit is dead, or the shards are dispelled. As these shards are
weapons of Slaanesh they rely on sensation and extremes among the enemy (such as fear) and those
who are exceptionally disciplined or have such a high morale to not care would be able to weaken and
dispel the shards without incurring further causalities.

Phantasmorgia: This spell summons illusory creatures that roam the battlefield, their dark promises of
fulfillment seducing and bewildering their enemies. This translates into increasing difficulty with
following orders and maintaining discipline. It can be cast on any unit within 300 meters or, through
great doubling of casting power, can be unleashed on all of those within 300 meters. Like the previous
spell this spell is affected by enemy willpower, discipline, morale, and other such effects.A force that
does well in those quarters will have far fewer of their units hampered then those with low discipline.
'Keep formation,' Morek cried, again and again, watching the approaching Norscan hordes, knowing
that the time was nearing when they'd clash. He ducked, as the stone throwers flung a low barrage.
Their deadly shadow had made them seem closer than they actually were and he reddened at his
foolishness. Arrows and bolts followed swiftly and the eldritch flames of the Norscan shaman rose again
to immolate them. Only this time a tapering smoke exuded in their wake, growing and coiling into a thick
roiling mist. Clinging to the ground, the mist surged across the plain at a frightening pace, easily faster
than the Norscans, and engulfed the foremost elves.
Strange shapes coalesced in that mist as it billowed into a rising fog. Morek's dwarf eyes discerned the
lithe bodies of elf females, writhing within the bilious soup. The elf spearmen, ensnared by the tendrils of
smoke, were seemingly beguiled. They cried out names in elvish - Morek could only assume they wailed
for their loved ones - and more came forward, all of them dropping their weapons to the ground.
As the mist slowly dispersed, the dwarf saw the spearmen held in the embrace of the ethereal maidens of
the mist, their expressions soporific as they became utterly enamoured.
'Valaya preserve us,' he gasped in awe and terror.- Honourkeeper
It was as though she were there with him, inside his plate. His true love returned. She kissed him and he
responded. His affections were hers and her lips were his.
Trudi

Knight!
My love
Master Horrwitz!
The ruinous warrior Rhaanoc was suddenly and inexplicably between then. His shattered helm. His bloodencrusted face. His ragged beard. His teeth were bared and his voice loud. Master Horrwitz! He was
shaking his head and his chains. Horrwitz felt Trudis light touch on his grizzled chin. She turned it away
from the wretch Rhaanoc and back to her own heavenly features. Once again she leant in and kissed
him. They were there, in the Reikwald, under the dappled light coming through the trees, with birdsong
in their ears.
The templar felt a tug from around his neck. He pulled away. There was the warrior Rhaanoc again. He
had forced his fingers between his chains and had pulled the key to his restraints from Horrwitz. Like a
contortionist he was attempting to get the key to its chunky lock. The ghost of a warning echoed through
the templars mind. A fire of outrage rose within him.
Kiss me, my love
They were swiftly doused by the intoxicating touch of Trudis lips on his own. A scream suddenly escaped
her. She roared her anguish, almost into his mouth. Horrwitzs eyes fluttered open. The cold was
suddenly back. The mist parted and Rhaanoc was there. The heavy chains were coiled at his feet. He was
bleeding through his shattered plate. Horrwitzs templar blade was in his hand, stained red with Trudis
blood. With horror, he realised that he had been disarmed, that his prisoner were free and that he held in
his arms the murdered Trudi.
Knight! Rhaanoc roared again. Look down.
Horrwitz allowed his dreamy gaze to travel to his armoured boots. They were splashed with blood and
grit. The floor was littered with shattered bone and skulls. He was half standing in a ribcage.
Horrwitz looked up at the marauder and then back at the cavalcade. Priests, knights and witch hunters
were all but lost in the mist, but the templar could hear groaning. Raven-haired beauties of sickly white
flesh writhed about them, seemingly inside their robes, cloaks and plate, mesmerising the Sigmarites.
The things were a living temptation, all sick beauty and obscene claws. Horrwitz returned to his senses.
Trudi suddenly felt cold, clammy and alien on his skin. Archaon: The Fall and the RiseOhnoesf1re

Cacophonic Choir: The wizard screams a soul-shattering chorus that tortures souls and shatters sanity of
those caught in its path. Some are slain outright while those that survive struggle to maintain both
cohesion and sanity, being thus much slower in combat while the spell lasts. Usually cast on a single unit
within 50 meters, with increased magical power it can be cast on all enemy units within 50 meters.

==
Of all the Chaos gods, the Daemons of Tzeentch can claim to
be the most skilled, for their god is the patron of magic . In
general their magic can be described as wild and destructive,
however with the typical randomness one might expect from
the God of Change.The Lord of Change offers special attribute
bonuses for his followers. For the Warriors of Chaos every
time a spell is successfully cast from this lore they have a
chance to siphon back some of the magic they cast and add it
to their fuel reserves. For Daemons, Tzeentchs main
advantage is that, every time a Tzeench-alligned wizard
successfully casts a spell on a enemy, there is a chance that
more Pink Horrors or Screamers appear on the field. Lore-wise
this is representative of the power of Tzeenth growing as the
enemy is forcibly changed by the magic inflicted by his
followers. These daemons always appear in the back-ranks.

All Tzeenth magic, both of mortals and daemons, has lingering warpflame that persists after a spell is
cast. Sometimes, if the enemy isnt tough enough to survive, these lingering warp-fires light up to cause
further burns among an already weakened enemy unit. However if they are tough enough the unit is
instead blessed with actual low-grade regeneration (those already possessing regeneration have better
regenerations)! Chaos, and Tzeentch in particular, is fickle!

Blueflames: The Tzeenth wizard unleashes a small torrent of blue flames upon the enemy, potentially
consuming a half a dozen at once! However the number of causalities inflicted are far more randomized
then other spells, for Tzeentch does not like consistency. Has a range of 300 meters that can be
upgraded to one kilometer.

Treason of Tzeentch: The wizard reaches into the thoughts of his victims, instilling thoughts of treason
and mistrust. In the short run this affects morale and cohesion, particularly of those not cohesive and
disciplined to begin with. In the long run it might cause loyalty problems among the affected units. At
normal it has a range of 300 meters on a single unit; however this can be upgraded to one kilometer
with additional magic. Only spell that does not invoke warpflame.

Pink Fires of Tzeentch: Malefic energy pours into the wizards hand as he holds it out to immolate any
that run up to slay him. This spell is going to be used only as the enemy is already reaching close
quarters, and essentially functions like a magical flamethrower.

Bolt of Change: The wizard hurls a single bolt of energy that blasts through enemy ranks, wracking their
bodies with sickening and uncontrollable mutations. It functions very much like a ballista shot, only a
ballista shot whose magical residue causes great causalities on those that it hits. Cast on a single unit at
300 meters.
The formation of pegasus knights had banked and were swooping in for another skewering pass.
Archaon readied himself for another sky-searing attack but he didnt have to. Bolts of unnatural energy
struck a crooked path up from the battlefield, striking the pegasi and their knightly riders. It was Vilitch
the Curseling, striding up through the destruction of Archaons progress. The warrior-twin slashed menat-arms out of his path with his sorcery-searing blade, while the twisting worm-like thing growing out of
his shoulder directed his staff at the sky. As the Curselings bolts struck the pegasus knights, both mount
and rider were transformed into sacks of leathery flesh that fell from the heavens. The disgusting fusions
of flesh splattered into the battlefield before sprouting tentacles, claws and exotic appendages that
reached out for nearby unfortunates. Whip-winding tendrils about the boots of fleeing squires, the
spawn dragged the boys back through the mud and into the abominations absorbing fleshiness.Archaon: Lord of Chaos

Glean Magic: The Tzeentch wizard challenges the enemy wizard to a mental dual, seeking to steal magic
from his mind. If the enemy wizard is more skilled, powerful, or with sufficient resistance, the Tzeentch
wizard is repelled. If the Tzeentch wizard is stronger the enemy wizard takes warpflame fire and forgets
some of his spells. The Tzeentch user can then use that spell just as he would any other.

Tzeentchs Firestorm: A scarlet ball of scarlet flame swirls around the caster being cast towards the
enemy. This storm is normally 9 meters in diameter, though it can be increased to 20 meters through
additional spell power. This spell can consume an entire regiment in its balefire, and inflicts more after it
violently scatters.

Infernal Gateway: The wizard tears through the fabric of reality, opening up a small portal to the Realm
of Chaos. Unless the target unit or creature is strong enough to physically pull himself away, he is then
sucked up into the realm where his soul then becomes the plaything of daemons.

 The wintry winds were now beginning to give way to something far more Chaotic altogether. Such
was the warping way of the great mutator; nothing remained free from the effects of change for long.
Almost as abruptly as it had begun, the blizzard ceased but the storm did not abate. Tendrils of Chaotic
power began to snake down from the seething clouds, striking like lightning. Only unlike the caress of
lightning, these strange tendrils had an altogether different effect.
Vendhal watched with unalloyed pleasure as a coil of cloud, rippling with all the colours of the visible
spectrum, whipped down from the boiling sky. The warping tendril struck the side of a house. Where it
hit, the wall was stone no longer. Instead, something more akin to dark purple flesh bubbled and
blistered there.
Another tendril struck, earthing itself against the cobbles of the street. As the power discharged,
bulbous, glistening eyes blinked in terror from the stones and gaping, leech mouths opened and closed in
the road spasmodically.
A woman ran screaming from the crumbling ruins of a lightning blasted house. Vendhal watched as her
foot snagged in an opening leech-mouth and she fell onto her hands and knees. Another twisting tendril
of energy lashed down from the storm and struck the woman. Her cries became a harsh, braying wail as
her whole body underwent a terrifying transformation.
The womans legs became boneless, rubbery tentacles. One arm sloughed its skin and became a
serpentine protuberance, her hand now a fanged maw. Her other arm sprouted iridescent feathers and
became a flapping wing. Great clumps of hair fell from her scalp as her head swelled and contracted
again. It was as if something was writhing inside her skull trying to claw its way out.
Vendhal walked past the woman with a sick smile on his lips. He was revelling in the glorious changes
wrought by Tzeentch upon Wolfenburg. The thing that was left after this terrible transformation
fortunately did not survive much longer.
The sorcerer knew well the stories of what had happened to the city of Praag in Kislev after the attack
of Asavar Kul. Once he was finished with Wolfenburg, Praag would seem like a mere experiment. The
sentinel city would become the new renowned masterpiece of Chaos
Across the street, houses burned amidst the last flurries of snow. Vendhal raised his skull-staff and
pointed at a man fleeing from the Chaos looters. He still clutched the pearlescent skull in his other hand.
Another bolt of warping energy seared down from the fiery clouds, blasting the sorcerers victim from his
feet. The man tumbled to a halt against the side of a building, from which blinked tearful eyes. The man
now resembled something more like a toad, with a forked whip-tongue, cockerels wattles and scuttling
crab legs.

Magestorm

Stand! yelled Sierck, sweeping his sword high through the misted breath that wreathed his torso. The
temperature continued to plummet. The professional soldiers voice was taut with worry. That troubled
Markus almost as much as the sorcerer himself. Show them Empire st
He never finished.
His raised sword ignited with black fire as though it had been struck by lightning. In that sudden flash,
Markus saw the mans bones silhouetted against the writhing grey of muscle and flesh. The men to
Siercks immediate left and right were screaming as searing ash fell on bare flesh and set light to their
clothes. One of them was clubbed down by a triumphant beastman, but all Markus could do was stare in
dumb horror. A disgusting wave rippled across Siercks charred remains. His chest began to bloat.
Markus broke from his fugue, some instinct pulling his friend, Hller, behind him as he turned his shield
from the beastmen and onto his former sergeant instead. An anaemic tentacle lined with suckers and
barbs punched through his wooden shield and his cured leather vest and burst from his back.
Doomed! Markus croaked, before an eruption of prehensile limbs tore his company apart.- Slayer

As death magic spreads throughout the world and the power of Nagash rises, the restless dead forsake
the grave. Every single Wizard can harness the Lore of Undeath, drawing Zombies, Skeletons and worse
to the battlefield. The faction in question does not matter, and even those that abhor necromancy, from
High Elves to Chaos, can use this lore in at least an emergency fashion (though obviously, the forces of
Nagash will be more inclined to use it). Its a self-sustaining lore in that each time a full unit is
resurrected the power of Undeath in the world temporarily increases, allowing the necromancer of this

scenario to summon a few excess units (so if a Necromancer summoned a couple dozen zombies, the
excess necromantic magic would bring up an addition 3-4 more than otherwise).

The Forces of Chaos do not particularly like this lore, as it is antithetical to many of the Chaos Gods and
owned by one who is one of the Dark Gods greatest foes, but they can use the weapons of the enemy.
Specifically in Athel Loren Northmen sorcerers were described as using the lore to harass the Elves of
that Realm.

Ryze: Drawing forth the dark energy coursing the land, the caster sends tendrils of power seeping into
the ground in search of long dead bodies to answer his summons. This spell can allow the summoning of
such creatures as zombies and skeleton warriors, dire wolves or, with increased effort, even elites like
black guards (wights) .
It was time. The necromancer tossed the bag aside and stepped into the centre of the circle. He felt each
tiny tremor of energy in the web hed created a net of sorcerous power that he merely had to speak the
proper phrases and draw tight over the plain.
Nagash looked out across the open ground. Skeletal figures waited in the darkness, silent and patient as
death itself; the hetman stood among them, his rune-sword glinting balefully.
Clenching his fists, Nagash threw back his head and began to chant, spitting the arcane words into the
sky. The arcane symbols within the ritual circle blazed with light, and the bruised clouds recoiled
overhead, receding in every direction as the power of the necromancers invocation spread in a great
wave across the barrow plain.
Power flowed in a torrent from Nagashs body, racing across the fields and sinking like claws into the
hundreds of barrow mounds. The energies sought out every corpse, burrowing into rotting flesh and
yellowing bones and stirring up the ghosts of old memories buried within. The spell was attuned to the
worst passions of the human soul: anger, violence, jealousy and hate, and it lent those memories a
semblance of life.
Bodies trembled. Limbs twitched. Dead hands clenched, scattering dust from decayed joints. Pitiless
flames burned in the depths of old, dead eyes.
Nagash felt them stir, hundreds of them, caught within the strands of his sorcerous web. Ragged lips
pulled back in a triumphant snarl. Come forth! he shouted into the tumult. Your master commands it!
Sealed up in their earthen barrows, the dead heard Nagashs command, and they obeyed.
Hands clawed at muddy earth, or tore at wooden boards. The earthen surfaces of the barrow mounds
rippled and heaved. Flashes of lightning silhouetted the stark outlines of skeletal figures dragging
themselves free from their graves.

Silent figures shambled out of the stormy night, drawn by Nagashs command. When the southern
barrows had been emptied, and a horde of more than a thousand skeletons stood at his back, the
Undying King stepped from the glowing circle and ordered his army to advance.- Nagash the Sorcerer

Morkhan - Breath of Darkness: The wizard draws tendrils of the Wind of Death into a dark fog that
restores the undead and fills them with unholy vigor. Targets any undead unit within a hundred feet of
the caster and that unit will regains lost units and those units become more formidable to damage. . For
example it was this spell that helped the Undead weather volleys of longbow and trechubet in the siege
of La Masontail Abbey, greatly reducing causalities. Has range of 50 meters.

Sulekhim- The Hand of Dust: Grasping hold of his foe, the wizard pours forth the decaying power of
ages, desiccating armor, flesh and bone, and reducing his victim to dust in a heartbeat. Can only be done
in close combat and, if successful, all that stolen life force can be used to boost the next spell cast.
Eltharion lunged with a roar worthy of his slain mount. Arkhan released his captive and spun. Eltharion
slammed into him, his hands closing about the liches bony neck. Arkhan glared at the elf. Release me,
warrior. Eltharion slammed him back against the cauldron as if to snap the liche in two. Very well. I
have no more time for mercy.
Arkhans hands snapped up and caught the elfs wrists. Instantly, a cloud of rust billowed up from
Eltharions vambraces. As Mannfred watched, the entropic curse consumed him. It rippled across metal
and flesh with equal aplomb, warping and cracking armour as it withered flesh. The elfs hair turned
white and brittle, and his flesh took on the consistency of parchment, but he did not release his hold on
Arkhan. To the last, his gaze held the liches.
Then, with barely a sigh, Eltharion the Grim, Warden of Tor Yvresse, burst apart in a cloud of dust. End
Times: Return of Nagash

Khizaar- The Soul Stealer: The Wizard tears souls from his victims bodies before breathing unlife into
their sundered corpses. Can be used on any unit within 50 meters, with morale and leadership being the
modifier. The weaker the units morale and leadership, the more this spell kills and any that are killed
can be used as fuel for further necromantic attacks.

Razkhar- the Abyssal Swarm: The wind binds the bones of predatory creatures with dark magic, drawing
them from their grave. This spell can be used to summon bat swarms, dire wolves, carrion vultures or
locust swarms.

Kandorak the Harbinger: The greatest practitioners of the Dark Arts can summon forth the most
fearsome champions and creatures of the undeath. This can be a Cairn Wraith, Tomb Herald, Necrotect
or Necromancer. With additional power the caster can summon a monster (such as a Necolith Colossus),
chariot or war machine (like a shrieking skull catapult).

Arkaranan the Dark Riders: At the Wizards command the ground opens up to reveal a portal through
which long dead knights ride forth to do battle. This may include Tomb King Skeletal Horsmen or Black
Knights.

 The storm of Chaos was upon them.

For a moment he felt as if the power of the building storm was more than he could bear, as if he was
about to unleash a force upon the world that was so devastating it could not be controlled by a mere
mortal.
But Vendhal Skullwarper was no mere Northern shaman. He felt that he was no longer even just a
sorcerer of Chaos. He was something much greater. He was the chosen channel of the power of the Dark
Gods of Chaos, who dwelt beyond space, time and the comprehension of primitive mortal minds.
Vendhal threw back his head and looked up into the vortex of power surging above him. He luxuriated
in the energising essence of the magical forces gathering there.
The power of Chaos is mine! the sorcerer screamed to the tortured heavens.
With a howl like a hundred packs of hungry wolves, the winter storm rushed in and the warping power
of Chaos tore through the summer night. The wail of the tempest drowned the excited cheers of the
Kurgan as the power of the north laid siege to Wolfenburg.
Snow did not so much fall as sweep across the countryside in a whirling wall of white. In no time at all
thick frost covered the landscape for a league in every direction and ice, growing upon thrashing
branches in minutes, weighed down the trees of the surrounding spurs of woodland.
Then the night exploded.
Forked lightning clawed the sky, striking the city walls like repeated hammer blows rained down by a
storm giant. Masonry exploded from the stonework where the lightning lashed at the curtain wall with
flashing talons of actinic white energy.
This was the power of the Dark Gods in all its terrifying glory. Nothing could stand before the might and
the supremacy of raw Chaos.
With a roar like the crashing scream of a landslide the ancient gatehouse of the city, which had
withstood attacks for two thousand years, collapsed in an avalanche of rock and stone. Men fell
screaming to their deaths, crushed by the very battlements that they were sworn to defend.
The city had been breached. -Magestorm

The End Times have come and with it Chaos in a much more powerful incarnation. The Magic of the End
Times have been ripped from the Great Vortex that once stabilized it, resulting in the world being
saturated with greater amounts of magical energy. Though this magic is far beyond the majority of
magic users to utilize, those who have mastered the lores can deploy wholly unique spells of ultimate
battlefield potency. If these spells backfire they are more destructive, it takes more time to gather up
the spell to cast and comes with other problems however they are all very potent.

It is important to note that, in the End Times, daemons can move around freely with only threat of
banishment if the winds recede (for it takes longer for that to happen now). Though still unstable
Daemons in this period essentially have to be put down with blades. For the KC setting, after Winds of
Magic reaches End Times levels, this advantage will constantly apply.

Before the specific spells can be discussed, it is important to mention Arcane Fulcrums, for they are
essential to understanding what follows. These Fulcrums can be either magical or otherwise important
buildings in the vicinity. Sometimes too, when none are available, they are summoned randomly into
existence, appearing with no particular pattern throughout the battlefield. These fulcrums are key to
successfully controlling the Winds of Magic enough to cast the awesomely powerful spells seen below.

The price of messing up spells can be extreme. The arcane fulcrum can explode, killing the wizard and
his allies nearby, it can create a 300 meter aura of darkness that prevents the wizard and his allies (or
enemies trapped within) from seeing anything, cause spontaneous transformation or temporal
displacement. This transformation may make it so all wizards using the Winds of Magic on the battlefield
turn into frogs temporarily or that the miscasting wizard turns into a ferocious monster, stopping him
from using any magic but giving that side a monster to use! Temporal displacement includes randomly
switching the location of fulcrums (and the wizard occupying it) around the battlefield, even temporarily
removing all of them and redistributing them! Sometimes magic bursts free from its creator to be used
potentially by the enemy.
In addition to those issues, which are universal to all Warhammer factions in the Storm of Magic, Chaos
has one unique issue and that is Khorne. The God of War hates cowardly sorcery for it is through these
magical means that he has never outright destroyed any of his Dark Brothers, for in direct combat on
the field none can compare to him. Though apparently the other gods protect wizards to the best of
their ability from Khorne, when a spell is cast in error and the protection is weakened Khorne lets his
displeasure be known- by hurling a giant, brass skull right at them! This is in addition to the other
miscast effects. So a wizard might appear randomly at another point on the battlefield, thanking
Tzeentch/Slaanesh/Nurgle for his luck in not exploding, only to die when a random brass skull hits him at

supersonic speeds. This only applies to wizards who use the Lores of Tzeentch, Slaanesh and Nurgle, as
only their servants can drive him into such rage.
Spells are split up here between Presence, Equilibrium & Dominance sections, based on the old
Storm of Magic system. Presence spells are going to be easy to cast though still requiring a lot of magic,
while those in the Dominance section are ultra-rare and incredibly difficult to create!

Fireball Barrage (Lore of Fire): The wizard conjures a firestorm, bombarding the enemy with countless
fire and killing up to thirty-six at once!

A Murder of Crows (Lore of Beasts): Calling upon Corvus the Crowlord, the wizard summons a voracious
flock of crows to tear flesh from bone. This horde,up to 20 meters in diameter, rapidly consumes all
troops in its path under dispelled, avoided or possibly killed. If miscast then the swarm of crows
unleashes itself upon the casting wizard and its allies.

Meteoric Ironclade (Lore of Metal): Casting charms of silver and iron, the wizard creates a magically
enchanted suit of armor that no mortal weapon can break. Essentially this extremely powerful spell,
until it phases away or is dispelled, makes it so a targeted unit is immune to all but the most powerful
attacks.

Ribaulds Retroactive Illusion (Lore of Shadow): A shadow wizard of sufficient guile can stretch his
illusions into the past, deceiving the enemy long before battle. Cast anywhere within 300 meters.
Essentially this odd description means that the wizard can choose to place like a small forest or stream
suddenly in front of a portion the enemy troops to slow them down and likely cause aiming problems. It
cannot be anything impassible however, like a mountain or lake.

The Choking Foe (Lore of Death): Purple energy oozes from the wizards eyes, ears, nose and mouth to
form a suffocating mass that flows over an enemy unit. Can be cast on any foe within a kilometer and
can only be resisted through strong willpower. Failing that and the unit will ultimately suffocate to
death.

Primal Onslaught (Lore of the Wild): With a guttural roar the Bray-Shaman feeds the rage of the beasts
around him. Once cast this spell makes all Beastmen on the battlefield much, much more ferocious and
powerful in melee combat. During the battle of six peaks the Empires lines were driven back multiple
times by massed frontal bestial assaults of uncommon fury.

Slothful Stupor (Lore of Slaanesh): Slaanesh is the god of all the seven great sins, and sloth is one of
them, though rarely seen. In typical fashion turns what is ordinary laziness into a deep and abiding
spiritual ennui that saps all sense of purpose and enthusiasm from a victim. Such a affected unit is
difficult to give orders to, has trouble in combat, and cannot be inspired until the spell is cast off. Has a
range of 300 meters.

Invisible Fires of Tzeench (Lore of Tzeench): There are some colors so vile only a madman could see
them. The Lord of Changes whispered teaching allows mortals to wield them, and they burn like no
mortal blaze can. They have chance to ignore armor and can kill up to 18 at a time!

Beast of darkness! he roared.

His voice echoed across the narrow way, rebounding from the high cliffs of granite above. Even amid all
the slaughter, one of the chimeras three heads turned to face him. For a moment, a pair of jewel-red
eyes glared straight at him. There was nothing but bestial hatred in those eyes, a hatred for every other
living entity that walked the earth. No desire existed in that ruined visage but to slay, to destroy, to maim
and to consume.
The eyes blazed, and black lips pulled back from blood-slick fangs. The chimera sensed the magic
building up within Rathien, and knew what danger it was in. With a savage growl, the creature shook off
the warriors clustered around it and lunged towards the real threat. As it pounced, its wings thrust out
and down powerfully, hurling the mass of muscle, flesh and bone towards Rathien with the force of a
massed cavalry charge. All three heads screamed with hatred, leaving long strands of saliva hanging in
the air behind.
Rathien held his ground, and thrust both hands out before him.
Calamann ya noresh aqshy! he cried, feeling the power within him surge to the surface like water
boiling over in a cauldron.
Streamers of fire, angry and spitting, burst from his open palms. The twin columns of roaring flame
crashed into the oncoming chimera, stopping it dead and running across the corrupted flesh like
quicksilver.
The creature bellowed in pain and fury. The rock broke under it as it flailed and writhed, trying
desperately to regain its feet.
Rathien remained unmoving, his arms extended, his legs braced. He could feel the throb of magic
swelling up within him, roaring and boiling in a seething morass before spilling out of his physical form
and slamming into the beast before him.
He heard himself crying words of power, words that he had thought he had forgotten years ago. The
blazing pillars of conflagration grew ever more devastating, tearing into the hide of the monster and
burrowing deep into the black flesh beneath.
The chimera made one last attempt to get to him. It reared up, claws raking. Ebony fluid cascaded
down its broken withers, boiling and steaming as it coursed through the curtains of fire. With a huge
lunge, it pounced, reaching out to grasp Rathien in its foreclaws, goaded by its insatiable need to kill
even in the midst of its agony.
Still Rathien didnt move. He stood as rigid as the statues of the Phoenix King, waiting for the impact.
He channelled more power, shuddering as the flames discharged from his body, struggling to remain
conscious as he became the conduit for such terrifying force.
The chimera plunged through it all, screaming and roaring. It stalked through the flames, reaching out
with its hooked claws and straining its long necks to bite.

It almost made it. For a fearful moment, Rathien was only inches away from the horrors jaws. He
stared into the closest set of eyes, facing off with the beast, gazing defiantly into the reflective orbs.
The torrent of fire never let up. It thundered out of him, making the air shimmer and shake, consuming
its target in rolling bursts of rose-red immolation.
Then, with a howl of anguish that made the earth tremble, the chimera crashed to the ground. Its
scorched flanks shuddered. Its charred wings cracked. It struggled on for a while, rolling back and forth,
trying to summon the strength to rise again, but the vital energy had been seared from it.
With a final cry of release, Rathien cut off the deluge. The flames guttered out. He staggered forward,
suddenly faint. High Elf Mage using powerful, Storm-enhanced Fire attack against a gigantic Chimera.

Withering Heat (Lore of Fire): With a triumphant gesture, the wizard hexes the enemy unit, setting a
curse upon their flesh. Essentially this unit now suffers from extreme heat and struggles to carry out
some of their more exhaustive actions like charging or fleeing. They also count as exceptionally
flammable, and a second fire spell against the enemy unit will surely spell doom.

Hunters Moons (Lore of Beasts): The wizard howls and the moon turns red as blood, shining its ruddy
rays on allies to increase their physical prowess. Essentially when cast all friendly units on the battlefield
become stronger, tougher, and can move faster.

Quicksilver Swords (Lore of Metal): At the wizards command, friendly blades flow eloquently like
water, seeping through gaps of flesh and armor. Cast on any single unit within 300 meters, this spell
makes it so their weapons ignore armor while in effect.

Bridge of Shadows (Lore of Shadow): At the wizards command, a bridge of shadow and spite whisks a
friendly unit across the battlefield. With a range of the wizards line of sight, this can be used to remove
a friendly unit that is suffering in combat behind friendly lines to safety or potentially re-position
another unit in a place disadvantageous to the enemy. Its only limits are line of sight and the fact that
the unit cannot be teleported onto impassible terrain or already existing units.

Ashes and Dust (Lore of Death): A choking dust cloud (around 20 meters diameter) emerges from the
wizards finger tips before being unleashed on the enemy. Though the cloud itself can be resisted easily

enough by those with sufficient strength, it can travel many dozens of meters before dissipating. As
always if miscast this spell appears directly on top of the casting wizard before flowing into friendly
troops.

Ruiner of the Wrought (Lore of the Wild): Slamming his staff into the ground, the Bray-Shaman
unshackles stock and stone from the bonding of artifice, unmaking the enemy weapons of war. This spell
has the range of a entire battlefield and essentially targets all buildings and siege weaponry, destroying
large portions of them. Only truly well armored artillery can hope to survive if the spell isnt disrupted
quickly enough. In the battle of Six Peaks the Empires Steam Tank managed to survive the onslaught
while most of the empires cannons perished.

Rotbomb (Lore of Nurgle): A host of tiny-mites burst from the wizards gaping mouth. Upon being
directed at the targeted unit, the mites giggle with glee as they fall upon and consume said army,
barring the most powerful magical enchantments. However these nurglings are a bit indiscriminate, and
will not only eat the units army but everything within 25 meters of that unit- friend or foe.

Grandfather Nurgles Circle of Life (Lore of Nurgle...obviously): Calling upon hidden fragments of
Nurgle to be found within every being, the wizard targets a enemy unit, dealing up to 30 deaths from
highly potent and quick plagues. Should enough deaths be reached (around 10) a Great Unclean One or
Nurglite Daemon Prince will be summoned to the field, depending on if the caster is a daemon or mortal
follower of Nurgle.

Song of Seduction (Lore of Slaanesh): Every man has his price, even if he knows it not, and Slaaneshs
capering wizards can divine and manipulate such things while the Storm of Magic flows. With a range of
300 meters, the afflicted unit immediately switches loyalties and attacks its erstwhile allies. Any heroic
characters within- individuals of exceptionally strong minds- must struggle to resist the temptation, with
some potentially staying loyal to the army. Overtime the unit will struggle to assert its will, and may
eventually succeed, returning to its original faction and fighting with a vengeance!

Daemonfire Vortex (Lore of Tzeentch): A prismatic haze,a bout 20 meters in diameter, erupts from the
wizards hand and rages across the battlefield, consuming that within its path. It will move in random
directions before collapsing, consuming those without extraordinarily tough magical defenses or that
dont get out of the way quick enough. As always if miscast it spawns right on top of the casting wizard
before unleashing itself on his army.

Magma Storm(Lore of Fire): The wizard sets a fire in the rock itself, causing the ground to splinter and
the raging lifeblood of the world to gush forth and engulf foes. This 20m diameter storm travels
randomly from its spawn point, immolating all those that get in the way and fail to flee. Towards the end
of the spell it then explodes outward, killing more in a final burst of fury. However as with other
powerful magic, its volatile. It has a chance of dissipating randomly and furthermore if the wizard
messes up the incarnation it can appear directly on top of the wizard, before spreading death to the
wizards friends.

Merciws Monstrous Regiment (Lore of Beasts): The wizard calls upon the strength of the wild world
and bestows it upon his chosen allies. All units within 300 meters, save the most powerful characters,
get 2x strength, toughness, and attack much faster in combat.

Gehennas Golden Globe (Lore of Metal): Speaking the three sacred syllables of transformation, the
wizard hurls a brilliant golden sphere (20 meters) towards his foe. Those touched by the ball may
become gleaming statues, and though the magic required to affect monstrous creatures is greater, even
they can be turned into golden statues. This ball can roll many dozens of meters though its direction is
random and uncontrollable by the wizard. However if this is miscast in typical fashion it will spawn right
on top of the wizard before rolling into his allies.
The golden glow that suddenly flared across the Steilstrasse could be seen all across Averheim. Before
the flash had faded, molten gold came running up through the cracks in the cobblestones. It rose over
the dead and wounded, reforming into hundreds of statues that stood silent amongst the raging battle.
A second flash followed a heartbeat later, and the statues were statues no more, but dwarfs ready and
eager for battle.

This was the magic of the Crucible: the ability to turn living flesh to biddable metal, and back again
without harm. Gelt had toyed with such magics for decades, but the results had never been less than
fatal. Only that day, with Chamons voice sharp and clear in his mind, and its power streaming through
his blood, could the wizard have achieved such a feat much less been able to have the transmuted ore
flow like a river through the bedrock. Even so, the casting had been imperfect, and not all the
transmuted had been restored. Scores of dwarfs would never fight again, would last until the end of the
world in their new, auric forms, but counting the cost would have to wait. For now, there was a battle to
fight. End Times Archaon
The Dance of Despair (Lore of Shadow): The Shadow Wizards most potent spell, it targets all enemy
units on the battlefield. When casting the wizard produces a string-less fiddle and haunting dirge that
takes all sense of hope and urgency from his enemiess minds. This has has the effect of making all units

lackluster in melee and ranged combat, reaction time and morale to bare minimum. Only the death of
the wizard, the dispelling of the magic, or a miscast can stop this spell once in place.

Crystal Maze (Lore of Death): The wizard reaches into the magical realms, drawing forth a portion of
that great crystal labyrinth of legend to bind an enemy unit. Sometimes these units manage to escape
immediately, sometimes it takes them a long time, and sometimes they are stuck forever in that maze.

Summon Infernal Legion Spell

The wizard channels his power to summon forth daemonic servants to the battlefield. While the base
spell is only strong enough to summon the most basic daemons(such as a unit of plaguebearers), more
energy can summon greater numbers or more powerful daemons (though Greater Daemons,
fortunately, are still powerful enough to require a ritual). Can only be done for followers of the
ascendant god.
Summoned Monsters
As to be described in the specialist support section, a sorcerer may choose to allocate a portion of his
magic to summon monsters instead. This is rare in use however sometimes it does come into play.
The screeching grew to an unbearable pitch and, just as Groot thought he could stand it no longer, a
huge portion of the town walls exploded inwards, revealing a towering, flame-shrouded dragon.
Gods preserve us, gasped the b?rgermeister as the dust settled.
The monster was over thirty feet tall, covered in thick, blood-red scales and drooling fire from its long,
quivering snout. As it waded into the town, it rolled its huge head on its shoulders and flexed its
enormous clawed fists. Its eyes mirrored the light pouring from Gabriels staff and the two of them were
linked by great cords of diaphanous power. As it lurched across the flagstones, the town wall exploded
behind it in several other places.
Groots panic grew as more dragons smashed into Schwarzbach, belching flames, tearing through walls
and making straight for the town hall.
Is this you? he cried, grabbing Gabriels robes and trying to rouse him from his fit. Have you
summoned these things? The b?rgermeister howled in pain as electricity scorched his hands, throwing
them back.
Gabriel slumped weakly to the ground and gave no reply, but as more of the dragons entered the town,
his shaking grew more violent and needles of light began pouring through his translucent skin.

A deafening crash came from the foot of the steps and Groot whirled around to see that the first of the
dragons had launched itself into the air and was now hanging directly over the battle, beating its vast,
tattered wings with slow, booming strokes.
Some of the beastmen were still struggling with their shroud of beetles and, even if they had wanted
to, they could not have fled. The rest of them were racing towards the town hall with such momentum
that, even as they saw death looming overhead, they could do nothing to halt their charge. As the
dragons ferocious breath blasted down on them, they erupted like kindling, with no chance of escape.
Dozens of horned, blackened figures crashed into each other, wailing furiously before collapsing in
smouldering heaps.
Other dragons swooped across the square, scorching the flagstones with rippling gouts of fire. Noise
and heat filled the air and winged monsters struck from dozens of different directions, devouring the
beastmen with piercing, hungry shrieks.
The dragons acrobatics whipped the storm into an even greater frenzy. As they banked and dived, they
scored dazzling lines of magic across the sky, wrenching the winds to even greater violence.
The reiksgraf and his knights backed away from the madness, wide-eyed and speechless as they
watched the colossal beasts at work. The dragons were quickly butchering the packed crowds of
beastmen. It seemed for a while that they would destroy the entire army without any serious resistance;
but then the leader of the beastmen climbed across the charred remnants of its kin and raised its two
handed axe over its head, bellowing in defiance at the circling dragons. As its booming cry rang out, the
other beastmen howled in reply, raising thousands of axes and spears as the dragons banked around for
another attack.
As before, the monsters poured columns of flame across the army, incinerating swathes of beastmen,
but this time, those who evaded the fire fought back, hurling a thick cloud of spears at their swooping
attackers. Most of the weapons bounced away, but a few found their markpiercing soft fleshy joints
and huge amber eyes. One of the monsters veered off course with an agonised screech and demolished
an inn, scattering bricks and barrels across the square. At the same moment, the bull-headed beastman
leader hammered his axe into the wing of another dragon, sending it thrashing wildly to the ground.
Hundreds of beastmen saw their chance and swarmed over it, hacking and jabbing with furious
determination, until the thrashing ceased and the creature lay still.
As the dragons died, Gabriels eyes blinked open and he curled into a foetal ball. Caspar, he groaned,
shedding the cords of light and sending them dancing up into the heavens. Its too much.
As Gabriel writhed in pain, the bonds that linked him to the dragons broke free and the creatures
faltered. Some of them swooped up into the heavens, leaving the battle completely, but others turned on
their kin. Pairs of struggling dragons began tumbling from the sky, scattering chunks of scaled flesh
through the air and hurling thick bolts of fire. The monsters frenzy blinded them to their danger and as
they crashed to the ground, the bull-headed beastman led a furious attack, swarming over the flailing
creatures with a chorus of howls.

-Razumovs tomb. Example of Monster summon

"It is not the strong enemy we must fear; it is the weak that flock to their banner." -Grand Theogonist
Rueben Wrolfgar
Equal to importance of the Marauders of Chaos are those highly secretive cults hidden within a society,
for upon the onset of conflict it is these individuals who turn every conflict with Chaos to a two-front
war; one from within and without. Though there is no one universal architype that can be found for one
cult it can be said that Chaos Cults are naturally attractive to the restless, the dreamers, the bored, the
ambitious and the dissatisfied; the outcasts and the desperate.
Many join quite innocently, for Chaos Cults are rarely shown as such from the outside, modeling
themselves instead as warrior fraternities, intellectual circles, religious groups devoted to an innocent
deity, artistic communities etc. . These innocent new recruits are often attracted to the aura of "occult
mystery", with the revelation of just what they are getting into only coming too late, when they are too
deep to pull out without risking themselves. As in the real world cult recruiters use every method one
can think of, from beguilement to threats to gradual reinforcement, to try and lure members in. In Liber
Chaotica a report notes that 2/3 of Chaos Cultists were surprised to learn they were serving in

something affiliated with Chaos or, if they were aware they were serving chaos, ignorant of the true
goals of Chaos. This statistic would vary between cult to cult of course.
Cults are typically led by a leader known as the magus. This is either the founder of the cult or one who
had usurped the previous magus and is considered the most blessed of all the cultists, often carrying
with him all manner of godly mutations, familiars or gifts. Since this magus is usually too mutated to
interact with the public at large, an inner circle of advisors known as the coven typically takes over the
running of the cult. Below that are varying ranks of cultists themselves with varying degrees of
awareness of the true objectives of the cult.
Though Chaos Cults welcome all, they will generally pool their efforts into subverting the powerful and
influential like politicians, generals, religious leaders ect. This is part of their insidious long term plans to
corrupt society through a myriad of means. They might create extreme religious or political fronts to
create instability, or infiltrate trade guilds to disrupt the economy. They will try to infiltrate whatever
they can including military, intellectual societies ect. Sometimes multiple cults of different gods work
together to maximize havoc (or are coordinated to do so by Tzeentchs).
These cults can be split roughly into five types ; Blood, Corruption , Death , Pleasure and Aethstetics .
Blood Cults (usually Khorne) project an appearance of the outside as a group pursuing martial prowess,
but in the inside they generally try to twist aspirants desire for simple prowess into bloodlust and
slaughter. This is the rarest type of cult given the attentions murders cause, and often are short-lived for
the same reason. Corruption cults try to physically and mentally corrupt all aspirants, deliberately
spreading mutation in whatever way they can, with variance depending on the god aligned with the
cult. Death cults are those devotees of Nurgle who, either fearing or loving death (in a bizarre way
Nurgle can cause both) deliberately spread plague to as many people as possible. However of all the
cults, this variant is most likely to self-implode. Pleasure and Aethstetics cults, the most common, are
where devotees seek either mastery of an art or thrill which Slaanesh typically provides.

Slaaneshi cults can be likened to the most terrible opium, with all consuming pleasure to be had by first
and then the onset of a creeping addiction. Unlike the other cults, who usually appeal to a very specific
group), Slaaneshi cults can appear to all of the above in addition the the types they normally appeal to,
such as the decadent, indolent, some bored nobles etc. For example a warrior or murderer, who one
might normally associate with Khorne, may instead appeal to Slaanesh to bring about mastery of skill or
to derive the most pleasure from the act.
While Slaanesh has the most cults in existence and the most members, cults of Tzeentch are considered
the most dangerous for they have definitive political goals in mind other than mere pleasure. Namely, in
order to best inflict change, they will try to break down society completely, supporting and infiltrating
any conventional and unconventional political movement (such as Old World communism in lore) to go
about this effect. In the Empire, this was done by sowing hatred between adherents of the Empires
two most notable gods, Ulric and Sigmar, which led to simmering hostility at the best of times to
outright fighting at worst. Often Tzeentch cults carry great influence within governments and even other
Chaos cults, and a Tzeentchi mastermind has no compulsions against forming a Slaaneshi cult if doing so
serves his purpose. Tzeentch cults are far less likely to show their hand directly and often act through
proxies. Even when they are discovered, such is the secretive nature of Tzeentchi followers that their
organization is like a clever labyrinth, with limited knowledge among ordinary members, making it
difficult to fully purge the cult without nabbing its top player in the first go.

Khorne and Nurgle cults are typically less in influence, but each has goals within the overall game.
Khorne cults ideally seek to seduce warriors and spread bloodlust, subverting the military of a nation
and turning discipline into constant bloodshed. That or make murder more common. Nurglites tend to
spread diseases everywhere in order to survive longer, for it is a common belief that the more people
they infect the happier the Nurgle will be, and the happier Nurgle is the longer they survive and/or
increased likelihood of Daemonhood.
All Cults seek to survive, prosper/grow, and get powerful enough to acquire real influence. All are wary
of attempts to put them down, having multiple escape plans, likely informants in the police force, pacts
with other cults (even those of rival gods, though sometimes these pacts fall through) and sometimes
are capable of summoning daemonic support. They are well-armed and have stocks of weapons. On the
more mundane level they make heavy of blackmail, bribery and political corruption. To add to the
difficulty in putting these groups done most cults are not transparent and seemingly lead ordinary lives.
There are numerous spheres in society and cults that infiltrate each one will try to create havoc in
unique ways. Those that infiltrate the economy will try to disrupt trade and try to create an economic
depression (at best) while those in the criminal elements might, for example, start peddling drugs
tainted with warpstone. Religious infiltrations will try to ferment religious conflict, society cults strive to
create discontent and ultimately revolution, military ones weaken the armed forces etc.

Cults form a piece of Chaoss overall goal in how to conquer the world, and in the last great war of
Chaos, Cults along with Daemonhosts and even Daemon allies would emerge from hidden hideaways to
try and take control or slaughter local government. Nurglites with diseases deliberately spread plagues
wherever they can, poisoning food and water along with sending less obvious members into crowds.
With more guile they can serve as spies, saboteurs, or assassins. Even the frequent infighting among
Cults, as is common among those groups who believe only their way is the true one, serves Chaos by
causing anarchy and paranoid suspicion to take root within a society.

So how will Cults play out in a KC setting? Chaos Cults do not spring up overnight, and thus early on are
unavailable as a form of recon. However over the weeks, months, and even years after, particularly with
instigators such as Van Horstmann (who runs the greatest string of cults in the Empire) speeding the
process up, these cults will take root to pursue their varied goals. The effectiveness and speed that these
cults are set up, if they are successful, would depend on the modifiers found in the Chaos corruption
section.
A modifier to the speed might be observation of the society itself, with strong societies with purpose
and strong morales being harder to infiltrate then non.The state of the society whether happy,
suppressed, anarchal ect- can also play a major factor in how long it takes for a cult to arise. At least in
the Warhammer Setting, cults spread faster than humans than any other race, for humans are given to
their flaws more than one other races. In general one will have to make generalizations on the society
to determine the spread of cult activity (if any) and apply the lessons seen in Chaos Corruption (see
Additional Factors) .Tzeentch sponsors revolutions, and he attempts to turn those advocating for social
justice into a burning hatred for all society.

Particularly stubborn societies like the Dwarves for example, with the exception of the ancient off-shoot
of the Dawi Zhar, have no real record of ever housing Chaos Cults. Even the Dawi Zharr almost all
worship Hashut, who has taken over their society rather than anyone else. However for the Elves of
their height, where pleasure-seeking and arts were the main goal, had Slaaneshi cults woven into their
society. Even in current times there are still a few. The Empire is well-known for the number of Chaos
cults they have, and Cathay seems to have a particularly notable (even legal!) Tzeentch cult, however
Brettonia and Kislev apparently have fewer.

Sources Utilized/Researched
Warhammer Army Books :
In addition to those I also have read almost all of the other, non-Chaos races for interactions with
Chaos/Skaven and incorporated it when possible . For example I used Lizardmen codex mostly for the
early years when Chaos first arrived and the Empire AB to look at their history of interactions for the
Empire's perspective. To save space however I am focusing on Chaos specific ones
-Warhammer 8th Edition Core Rulebook
-Warriors of Chaos 8e
-Daemons of Chaos 8e
-Warriors of Chaos 7e
-Daemons of Chaos 7e
-Beastmen 7e
-Hordes of Chaos 6e
-Beasts of Chaos 6e

-Champions of Chaos 5e
-Realms of Chaos 5e (lightly)
- White Dwarf Presents: Chaos Dwarfs
-Chaos 4e
Forgeworld
-Tamurkhan: Throne of Chaos
-Monstorous Arcanium
-Storm of Magic

Sourcebooks:
-Liber Chaotica
-Blood on the Reik
-Darkness Rising
-Empire at War
-Witch Hunter's Handbook
White Dwarf:
Honestly too many to list unless I must. I also used the website RedElf to pull info on old White Dwarf
articles that I did not have in my possession and could not buy.
Warhammer Fantasy RPG
-Tome of Corruption 2e
-Liber Mtuatis 32
-Liber Infectus
-Liber Estacia
-Liber Carnagia
End Times:
End Times Nagash
End Times Glottkin
End Times Khaine (lightly, mostly for info on Hellebron)
End Times Thanquol
End Times Archaon
Age of Sigmar:
-Everchosen battletome (for info on his personality)
Black Library
(only including those relevant to Chaos...I have read many more focused on the Skaven or Undead)
Gotrek & Felix

-Trollsalyer
-Daemonslayer
-Dragonslayer
-Beastsalyer
-Giantslayer
-Orcslayer
-Manslayer
-Road of Skulls
-City of the Damned
-Kinslayer
-Slayer
-Short Stories
-Marriage of Moment (Jabbersythe shown within)
-Remembers
-Prophecy
-A Place of Quiet Assembly
-Two Crowns of Ras Karim (Chimera)

-The Ambassador
-Ursun's teeth
-With Ice and Sword
Angelika Fleischer
-Liar's Peak
The Dead & the Damned
-Van Horstmannn
-Wulfrik the Wanderer
-Sigvald
-Archaon: Everchosen
-Archaon: Lord of Chaos
-Valkia the Bloody Omnibus
-Leechlord
-Sword of Justice
-Sword of Vengeance
-The Return of Nagash
-The fall of Altdorf

-The Curse of Khaine (only beginning relevant to Chaos)

-The Lord of the End Times
-Maerienburg's Stand
-The Bride of Khaine
-Seige of Naggarond
-Blackheart Chronicles Omnibus
-Brunner the Bounty Hunter Omnibus
-The Darkblade Chronicles
-Day of the Daemon (Ind Tiger Beastmen are awesome)
-Night of the Daemon
-Hour of the Daemon
-Death's Messenger
-Death's City
-Death's Legacy
-Blood for the Blood God
-Palace of the Plaguelord
-Grudgebearer
-Honourkeeper
-Guardians of the Forest
-Defenders of Ulthuan
-Sons of Ellyrion
-Tyrion & Teclis trilogy
-Gilead's Blood
-Thanquol's Doom (the end scene)
-Knight Erran
-Knight of the Realm
-Lords of the Marsh (one of three Fimir appearences. The other two in Marshlight and Sigmar)
-Mark of Damnation
-Mark of Heresy

-Orion: Vaults of Winter

-Tears of Isha
-Council of Beasts
-Claws of Chaos
-Blades of Chaos
-Heart of Chaos
-Star of Erengard
-Taint of Evil
-Keepers of the Flame
-Razumov's Tomb
-Dragonmage
-The Hour of Shadows
-Riders of the Dead
-Shyi-zar
-Sigmar Omnibus
-Malekith (depiction of Elf/Dwarf unified battle against Chaos)
-The Great Betrayal (depiction of Elf/Dwarf unified battle against Chaos)
-Curse of the Phoenix Crown (only because of a revelation found within)
-The Bloody Handed
-Drachenfels (note my Chaos profile is set at the moment they formed an alliance with the Skaven but
includes those units/heroes that Chaos gains in the near future..so Nameless/Drachy)
-Crown of Damnation
-Forge of War
-Condemned by Fire
-The Wine of Dreams
-Magestorm
-Forged in Battle
-Broken Honour
-The Corrupted
-Mark of Chaos
-Enemy Within
-Knights of the Blazing Sun
-Battle of Whitestone
-Wind of Change

-Manebane
-Marshlight
-The Talon of Khorne
-Butcher's Beast
Probably some more short stories