Kurgans. The Kurgans are a race of copper skinned nomads native to the Eastern Steppes north of the Dark Lands and Kislev and east of Norsca. The Kurgans are the most numerous of the Northmen tribes, highly nomadic and equally capable fighters and travelers on horseback and on foot. During major incursions, the Kurgan make up a fairly significant part of a Chaos Army and have been known to raid Kislev, The Empire, Norsca and other nations alike. They are feared as incredibly proficient and savage warriors.

Due to their mobility and nomadic lifestyle, they are often the quickest to join a major Chaos incursion, usually as scouts and outriders. Even though they are fierce combatants in their own way, they truly excel at bowmanship and as skirmishing horse archers. The Kurgan also share blood relations with the northern Ungols and to a lesser extent, with the Gospodars. Indeed, the Gospodar were once a part of the Kurgan people before their exodus into the lands of Kislev.

Hierarchy. There are no forms of Government amongst the barbarians of the north. Indeed, the very nature of nations, law and order goes against and sometimes outright contradicts the nature of Chaos itself. As such, the only forms of unity amongst these barbarian raiders are their oaths of allegiance to powerful Champions, blood ties to their own Tribes and a strict military hierarchy dominated by the concept of strength. Most if not all the barbarians of the northern waste had started out life as a member of a Tribe or Clan amongst the peoples of the Norse, Kurgan and Hung. These Northmen societies are usually comprised of many different cultures, traditions and their own respective versions of the Chaos Gods. Nonetheless, each of these Tribes usually follow the same type of social structure based upon the strongest ruling over all.

The Norse tribes living within the frigid lands of Norsca are each ruled by a King, who distributes hunting grounds and territory to his lords, who are known as Jarls. The Jarls in turn bestow gifts and favor upon their sworn warriors, who are known as Bondsmen. Warriors occupy the most vaunted and esteemed place in Norse society, due to the warlike nature of the Northern tribes and their insatiable lust for glory and battle. The rest of Norscan society consists of the elderly, the infirm and the women. At the very bottom rung of Norscan society lies the Thralls, slaves taken in raids for use as menial labor, as consorts, and worse, as sacrifices to appease the dark hunger of the Chaos Gods. Kurgan and Hung tribal society also follow a similar form of hierarchy, but instead of Kings and Jarls, these Barbarians are lead by powerful Chieftains known as Zars, perhaps in imitation of the Tzars of Kislev.

Outside of these tribal hierarchy, warbands of Chaos Warriors are usually united under the ruthless banner of a particularly powerful Chaos Warrior, known as Champions. These Champions are naturally the strongest and most powerful individual within the warband and often bear stigma of the Dark Gods favor. These Champions often in turn, follow the command of an even more powerful Chaos Champion known as Chaos Lords, either out of admiration for his power and skill or by being forced into the ranks after being beaten into submission. The motives and ambitions of these Champions are widely diverse, but the most common goal is simply to gain more power and obtain the highest favor of the gods through acts of conquest.

The Ruinous powers

Perhaps the strongest unifying force amongst the Northmen tribes is their dedication and worship of the Four Gods of Chaos. Each and every living inhabitant within the harsh lands of the Northern Waste know full well the powers of these malevolent entities, for their influence can be seen all around the lands and its people. Corruption, mutation and warfare are but just a few signs of the Dark Gods influence upon the World.

Khorne. The blood God is the God of anger, violence, and carnage. Every act of violence gives Khorne power, regardless of whether it was committed by his followers, his enemies or those ignorant of his existence. There is an age old saying of the followers of Khorne which illustrates this best: "Khorne cares not from whence the blood flows". He is the most powerful of the gods, and those who follow him are possessors of great strength, courage, and bloodlust, who are bestowed with great power. Khorne is the embodiment of mortals' courage, glory, and strength.

Tzeentch. The Changer of Ways is the Chaos god of sorcery, change, and manipulation. Tzeentch is closely associated with sorcery and magic, as well as dynamic mutation, and grand, convoluted scheming. The domains of history, destiny, intrigue and plots are his chief interests, and in pursuit of these aspects he listens to the dreams and hopes of all and watches their plans take form. He is not content to merely observe, however, and chooses to interfere in the skeins of fate in order to fulfill his own, unknowably complex schemes. Tzeentch is known by an endless multitude of names, but the chief titles he bears are the Changer of the Ways, the Master of Fortune, the Great Conspirator and the Architect of Fate. Tzeentch embodies mortals' ambition, knowledge, and hope.

Slaanesh. The Dark Prince is the Chaos God of Pleasure, Passion, and Decadence. Lust, pride and self indulgence are the hallmarks of all who follow him. Slaanesh can assume any form; male, female, hermaphrodite or asexual; when looked upon by a mortal Slaanesh takes the form of the sex of their desire. Slaanesh is the core rival of Khorne, whom he considers his opposite. Slaanesh is the embodiment of mortals' desire, greed, lust, and indulgence.

Nurgle. The Plague Lord is the Chaos god of disease, destruction, decay, and Death. His titles include the Fly Lord, Great Corruptor, Master of Pestilence, Lord of Decay (the translation of his Dark Tongue name, Nurgh-leth) and represents morbidity, disease and physical corruption. He is described as a huge, fat, pox infected creature with antlers, and a grotesque body. He is considered the most "friendly" of the chaos gods, for he is the only god to care about those who follow and worship him. His personality is considered joyful, kind, and happy in demeanor. His main enemy is Tzeentch, the Lord of Change, because their power comes from opposing sources. Tzeentch is hope and ambition, while Nurgle is defiance born of despair and hopelessness. Nurgle embodies mortals' desire to elude death, and to live.

Followers of Khorne

Khorne is said to smile upon feats of valor, strength and blood drenched warrior skill, and is the patron of proud warriors who set themselves against the odds and emerge triumphant through strength and skill. The blood God is also said to exalt the brave of both sides of the battle, while at the same time laying his terrible vengeance upon the cowardly and craven.

On one side of his nature, Khorne is the embodiment of honor and courage, and those who have put their faith in Khorne are just as likely to be honorable warriors as blood crazed killers, and often times it is that they are both at the same time. The Warriors of Khorne, though gore maddened berserkers all, take no artful approach to killing, for such indulgent displays serve only to empower Slaanesh, the honorless adversary of Khorne amongst the company of the gods. This is also due to the warrior code of the devotees of Khorne, who believe it is the solemn right of every warrior to die an honorable death in battle with sword and axe in hand. Khorne is the second eldest and perhaps the mightiest of the Gods of Chaos.

Blood Reavers

Advancing upon their foes in a great, howling mass, the cannibalistic Bloodreavers make up the bulk of Khorne’s mortal hordes. These savage tribesmen hack and stab until they are covered from head to foot in the enemy’s blood, fighting desperately to win the favor of their dark god.

Skullcrushers of Khorne

The Skullcrushers of Khorne are one of the most devout warriors dedicated to Khorne, the Blood God's worship, and whose legendary skills in arms and warfare has earned them the right to ride the fearsome Juggernaut into battle. Skullcrushers are unsubtle warriors who revel in battle and live only for the shedding of blood in the name of Khorne. Only those Chaos Knights who devote themselves utterly to the Lord of Slaughter and offer to him a mountain of skulls are destined to become Skullcrushers. Anyone or anything foolish enough to stand before them is destined only for a short and brutally violent fate, for Skullcrushers are completely without mercy and leave only a trail of broken bodies and a river of spilt gore in their wake.

So favored in the eyes of Khorne are these murderous knights that the Blood God has gifted them with Juggernauts to carry them to war. These massive daemonic mounts are made of living metal and pure rage; they are dealers of untold destruction who grind their foes beneath steel sinews and brass hooves. As formidable as a Chaos Knight is, when mounted upon a Juggernaut, he is nigh unstoppable. As the blood crazed knights bellow their battle cries, their fearsome mounts snort steam and paw out divots the size of shallow graves before stampeding towards the ranks of their enemy and flattening anything in their way. The knights themselves are no less brutal, hacking their opponents apart with axes and cleavers, or else running them through with jagged lances. Mightiest of all their number is the Skullhunter, he who has spilt the most blood in Khorne’s name and who has gifted his dark patron with the skulls of mighty kings and great heroes.

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Skullcrusher

Large humanoid, chaotic evil

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• Armor Class 24 (shield, heavy chaos armor)
• Hit Points 123 (13d10 + 52)
• Speed 9m.

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STR	DEX	CON	INT	WIS	CHA
22(+6)	14(+2)	18(+4)	8(-1)	13(+1)	12(+1)

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• Saving Throws Str +11, Dex +7
• Skills Animal Handling +7, Athletics +11
• Condition Immunities frightened
• Senses passive Perception 11
• Languages Common
• Challenge 11 (7200 XP)

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Mark of Khorne. This warrior bears on its skin the blessing of the blood God. It scores critical hits on a roll of 19 or 20. It also has advantage on Athletics checks and Strength saving throws.

Daemon Rider. The juggernaut mount takes its turn together with the skullcrusher.

Mighty Charge. The skullcrasher can attack once every enemy within reach when its juggernaut uses the Trampling Charge ability.

Khorne's Fury (1/day). As a bonus action the warrior can enter into a frenzy rage that lasts for 1 minute and grants the following benefits:

• +6 bonus to damage rolls with melee weapon attacks.
• Resistance to bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing damage.
• It can make a single melee weapon attack as a bonus action on each of its turns

Actions

Multiattack. The skullcrusher makes three attacks with its demon-glaive.

Demon-Glaive. Melee Weapon Attack: +11 to hit, reach 3m, one target. Hit: 15 (2d8 + 6) slashing damage plus 11 (2d10) fire damage.

Chaos Armor:

Chaos Armour is a set of weirdly wrought plate favored by the champions of Chaos. While all the warrior peoples of the North wear some form of armor bearing the twisted marks of their unholy devotion, the plate known as Chaos Armour is a very different ilk from the iron and mail favored by the Norse and Kurgan. Many of these sets hail not from mortal smithies, but from the hellish forgeworks of the Chaos Dwarfs who dwell in the Dark Lands. These Dwarf forged sets find their way to the North via trade contacts the Chaos Dwarfs have opened in Norsca and in the Eastern Steppes. The tribes trade furs, meat, steel and slaves to the depraved Dwarfs in order to make use of the armor for their mightiest warriors and honored chieftains. Other sets are blood encrusted heirlooms of the lines of Norse and Kurgan nobility, said to have been gifted to the progenitor of the line by the Dark Gods themselves. Such sets bear the numerous pitted scars of countless battles, and are festooned with the grim trophies of victory that the Northmen take from the defeated.

Whatever its make, Chaos Armour provides a level of personal protection matched only by the Gromril armor of the Dwarfs. Arrows clatter harmlessly against the dark metal, halberds shatter in two when hammered against the sabatons and gorgets of the Chaos Warriors, and even the finest warhammers can make naught but a mild dent when struck against the armor of Chaos. Such is its strength that only weapons of Arcane origins stand a chance of penetrating this hellish plate. Ornate and weirdly wrought, it is forged from unknown materials that seem to writhe and change before a foeman's very eyes. Reflecting in its colors and ornamentation the patron god of its wearer, many Northmen warriors often affix their sets with crude and barbaric talismans that recall the traditions of their own tribes. Many a regiment of Chaos Warriors have gone into battle enshrouded in great cloaks of bearskin and wolf, wearing necklaces fixed with wolf teeth and the fangs of yet other beasts that are better not to mention. At times, it pleases the Dark Gods to grant these warriors a hellish unity with their armor, transforming it into a second skin that cannot be removed. Such warriors are regarded as blessed by their compatriots, for they have now fully committed themselves to the warrior's path, becoming true lords of battle. Those who endure this fate silently rage against what they have become, and throw themselves into battle with the fury of a berserker, desperately seeking death and a release from their prison.

Scyla Anfingrimm

Scyla Anfingrimm, known also as the Scourgeborn, the Talon of Khorne, and the Bloodbeast, was once a mighty and far famed Champion of Khorne, perhaps the greatest of the Blood God's chosen. In his former life, he was nigh invincible and unmatched in battle, having slain some of the fiercest beasts and armies in service to the Norscan god of war. The terror of coastlines from frozen Norsca to exotic Ind, Scyla's name was synonymous with victory and pillage. No other had climbed the ranks of the Blood God's esteem more quickly than he and many amongst his tribe, the vicious warriors of the Ironpelt, had boldly claimed that it would not be long until their chieftain was visited by Khorne with the greatest gift of daemonhood.

In a sense, they were right. It was when Scyla had single handedly slaughtered the bestial Gorgers of Undermountain, only the latest in a long litany of mighty and unimaginably violent deeds, that his god, Khorne, granted him a final boon. But so passionate was Scyla for the gifts of the Blood God that this mutation, in addition to the multitudes he already possessed, proved too much for his mortal form and his transformation into a Chaos Spawn was complete. But Khorne had not abandoned Scyla, not truly, for the raider had pleased Him so, that He made certain that Scyla's new form was far, far more deadly than anything he had hunted and slain in his path to glory. Indeed, so great a champion was Scyla in life, that he still retains the favor of Khorne in his new state. Amongst the Warriors of Khorne, Scyla's name is still spoken in hushed whispers of awe, for no man has laid more skulls at the foot of Khorne's throne than he.

Saga of the Bloodbeast. It was in the age when the Graelings were ruled by Jarl Grundval FangScar, in the waning summers after he had slain his uncle, the usurper Bjarn Baerokk, that a terrible curse had fallen upon the Bay of Blades in the Chaos touched land of Norsca. No longships made to port, the Graeling raiders, ever the scourge of the weak lands of the south, did not return with the frost winds of winter as they had in the many generations the tribe had dwelt beneath Stoneclaw Mountain. No ships laden with gold, sacrifices and plunder to sate the tribe through winter had come out from the cool mists.

As fear began to grip the Graelings, they cried out to their Dark Gods for deliverance. Grundval sent ships to investigate, to learn of what became of the raiders, but only one Marauder out of the half dozen ships dispatched returned. Shivering and near dead from a thousand wounds, the Marauder spoke of what had transpired. A great beast of the deeps, or perhaps many, such was the ferocity of the monster encountered, that had smashed aside the ships of the Graelings. Now the tribe knew why their Chosen and Marauders had not returned from the summer raids. Grundval, knowing this to be a curse from the gods, called upon the powers of Chaos he had been gifted with to defeat the beast, but to no avail. Thus, he commanded his shaman, Ulfthras, to employ the oldest and most powerful rites to call upon the gods. The shaman went out into the tundra, his great white beard soaked in the blood of 13 of the finest Graeling virgins and his lungs swollen with the smoke of ogre bone and ghostroot. In the daemon haunted mist, it is said that he spoke with Khorne himself and heard his will.

Ulfthras returned with the Word of the Blood God, and indeed, something more: Khorne had demanded a champion. A mortal man with the raw strength and savage heart to slay such a beast. And to that fell end, the daemon slaves of the wolf headed god offered a token; an obsidian tusk on a barbed silver chain. Forged in the fires of Khorne's rage and cooled in the bloody seas beneath the Skull Throne, it would be bestowed upon any man great enough to slay the fell Leviathan, who would then know the favor of Khorne forevermore.

Grundval sent ravens in all directions, bearing with them the decree of Khorne. In time, champions of the Blood God arrived from all over Norsca and some even came from the Kurgan lands, all eager to answer the call of the Bloodwolf. They had all boasted of how they would deliver the Graelings from their peril and earn the favor of Khorne, but none who sailed out into the mists to fight the leviathan returned.

Finally, salvation came in the form of Scyla Anfingrimm, son of Thurrik, warlord of the Ironpelt tribe, who were kinsmen to the Graelings, and Champion of Khorne. Though he had not yet seen 25 winters, his name and his sword were known throughout the North. Indeed, word of Khorne's Commandment had come late to him, for he was abroad that summer raiding and despoiling the undead lands of far off Khemri. It was said that his attacks were so swift and so fierce that the mere sight of his sails struck fear into ghastly hearts of the undead rulers of that ghostly kingdom. When he was told of the perils awaiting him, Scyla is said to have laughed aloud, and boasted that as he had put the fear of death into those without souls, no power short of that of the gods' themselves could ever make him feel fear. Confidently, he took the only ship in Grundval's harbor; a rickety old sloop, and sailed out into the Bay of Blades to do battle with the Leviathan. It has long been a source of high praise amongst the Norse to call a raider so fierce that he was unafraid of leading his brothers into the underworld, but Scyla was unafraid of sailing into the underworld by himself.

Though his mind was rent asunder upon his transformation, the beast that was Scyla Anfingrimm yet retains of the great warrior he once was in order to lead men into battle. Loping before the massed ranks of the warband, venerated as a living god, the Warriors of Chaos interpret Scyla's frenzied roars and guttural battlecries as orders and directions in battle.

Scyla Anfingrimm

Huge monstrosity, chaotic evil

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• Armor Class 19 (natural armor)
• Hit Points 310 (23d12 + 161)
• Speed 12m.

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STR	DEX	CON	INT	WIS	CHA
30(+10)	11(+0)	25(+7)	4(-3)	13(+1)	8(-1)

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• Saving Throws Str +16, Dex +6, Con +13, Wis +7
• Skills Athletics +16, Perception +7
• Damage Resistances cold, fire, lightning; bludgeoning, piercing and slashing from nonmagical weapons
• Damage Immunities poison
• Condition Immunities poisoned
• Senses darkvision, passive Perception 17
• Languages Common, Dark Tongue
• Challenge 19 (22000 XP)

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Legendary Resistance (3/day). If Scyla fails a saving throw, he can choose to succeed instead.

Charge. If Scyla moves at least 4,5m straight toward a target and then hits it with a gore attack on the same turn, the target takes an extra 38 (7d10) piercing damage. If the target is a creature, it must succeed on a DC 24 Strength saving throw or be pushed up to 6m away and knocked prone.

Brass Collar of Khorne. This powerful artifact grants Scyla advantage on saving throws against spells and other magical effects.

Ragdoll Attacks. Scyla can try to pick up a large or smaller creature, with a successful grappling check, to utilise it as an improvised weapon. If Scyla grabs a creature he can perform the Ragdoll attack dealing damage to both the target of the attacks and the creature grappled.

Siege Monster. Scyla deals double damage to objects and structures.

Legendary Actions

Scyla can take 3 legendary actions, choosing from the options below. Only one legendary action option can be used at a time and only at the end of another creature's turn. Scyla regains spent legendary actions at the start of his turn.

Jump. Scyla makes an Strength (Athletics) check and jumps that many metres away, making an hoof attack against any creature in a 1,5m radius around his landing.

Charge. Scyla moves and makes one gore attack.

Tail. Scyla makes a tail attack.

Followers of Tzeentch

Tzeentch is the god of sorcery and magic; a distant, capricious god who demands strength and cunning in equal measure. While the brutal Khorne reviles the use of arcane trickery as dishonorable, and therefore forbids its usage, the Raven God is far more pragmatic, and sees no qualm with exploiting brute force when it will serve his aims. As a result, the warriors of Tzeentch are often both capable warriors and master wizards, making them incredibly dangerous opponents. Tzeentch, in his various aspects, is commonly venerated by the shaman in the far North. Indeed, as the ultimate god of magic, even sorcerers dedicated to Nurgle or Slaanesh are wise enough to provide him offerings. He is also the god of chieftains and leaders, and though it is far more common for the warrior kings of the tribes to pay homage unto Khorne, Tzeentch's role as the Weaver of Fates compels even the jarls and zars of the Northmen to cultivate his favor, lest they instead draw his ire. The reputation of the northern warriors of Tzeentch for meticulously prosecuting the strategy of war is rightly legendary, and it has thus often appeared to Imperial generals that almost every eventuality in battle has been planned for in advance. Indeed, even should an army of Norsemen or one of the other barbarian hordes dedicated to Tzeentch be broken and routed, it is always difficult to discern whether this is a true victory, or merely just the latest in a long series of steps in an unfathomably complex plan wrought by the Changer of Ways.

The followers of Tzeentch are often capable warriors in their own right, but it is in their capacity for maleficent spellcraft and masterful manipulation that they truly excel. The greatest amongst their number are amongst the most mutated of all the followers of Chaos, armed with devastatingly powerful magical weaponry and mighty armor etched endlessly with runes of protection and aid, and are amongst the most terrifying of the servants of Chaos. Though in spite of the great power to be granted by the veneration of the Great Conspirator, there are few tribes in the North who would take him as their sole patron. This is particularly true of Norsca, where many prefer the bloody honor of Khorne's path. However, the worship of Tzeentch is relatively more common amongst the Kurgan tribes, who place great importance upon the evolving nature of the world. Regardless, by and large, the Raven God is perhaps the least called upon deity of the bleak northlands. The natural Northern antipathy and distrust for magic is likely also a contributing factor. However, whatever they lack in numbers they make up for in cunning. For beyond any faculty of magic or martial might, the servants of Tzeentch are feared chiefly for their impressive cunning. Many times has a warband of Northmen dedicated to Tzeentch overcome a foe of greater strength through means of espionage and subterfuge, causing disruptions that divide the enemy, allowing the savages to cut them down and make of them offerings to their abhorrent master.

Tzeentch, even amongst the dread deities of Chaos, is perhaps the most active in portioning out the dubious gifts of mutation. Indeed, it is in his very nature do so, as he embodies that particular aspect of Chaos more deeply than any of this brothers. Truly, his followers bear the most maddening and hideous of all the marks of Chaos, as well as perhaps the most deadly.

Acolytes of Tzeentch

Although a Chaos cult can involves a great number of people, only a select few are aware of the organisation's true purpose. This inner circle manipulates the rest, guiding the larger body down into ruin. The diseased heart of any cult is the coven. It includes the true members of the cult who understand their allegiance and actively further the interests of the group. They serve as the Magus' (the cult’s leader) most trusted servants. To become an Acolyte, as many call themselves, they must have earned the mark of whatever God to which the cult owes its allegiance. This sign of favor is instantly recognised by the Magus who, in turn, ushers the individual into the coven.

Those who follow the teachings of Tzeentch are dedicated to change in all its forms. They are the most mystical of the Chaos cults, seeking out forbidden knowledge regardless of the cost it exacts on the mind, body, and spirit. Hedge wizards, ex-priests, and those who dabble in the occult are the most likely candidates to be drawn into a cult of Tzeentch. There is no defining characteristic of Tzeentch's Acolytes though. They may be anyone, anywhere, from the Priest who tends a Shrine of Sigmar to the Magister who has the ear of the Count. These are insidious figures, carefully and covertly orchestrating their plots to bring about the end of the Empire.

As befitting a cult that worships the God of Change, no two groups are exactly alike. Some are composed exclusively of spellcasters, while others are comprised of lowly commoners who seek to overcome their lots in life. By asking for such change to come into their lives, they call upon Tzeentch, often without a full understanding of the damage that doing so will cause.

The Colleges of Magic are constantly on the hunt for Cults of Tzeentch, viewing them as horrid aberrations that meddle in things that should be left alone. The Colleges engage in constant programs within their membership, rooting out those who have fallen sway to Tzeentch’s control. Although they are never spoken of, these fallen brethren are all too common. Magic is intrinsically tied to Chaos, and its practitioners are more vulnerable to the call of entropy and corruption than the average citizen of the Empire.

Tzeentch's Acolyte

Medium humanoid, chaotic evil

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• Armor Class 12
• Hit Points 22 (4d8 + 4)
• Speed 9m.

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STR	DEX	CON	INT	WIS	CHA
10(+0)	14(+2)	12(+1)	17(+3)	15(+2)	14(+2)

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• Skills Arcana +5, Deception +4, History +5, Religion +5
• Senses passive Perception 12
• Languages Common, Dark Tongue
• Challenge 1/2 (100 XP)

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Mark of Tzeentch. The acolyte has advantage on Intelligence checks and Int/Wis/Cha saving throws against spells and other magical effects. Additionally any spells cast by the blessed deal one additional die of damage, e.g 3d6 becomes 4d6.

Spellcasting. The acolyte is a spellcaster. Its spellcasting ability is Intelligence (spell save DC 13, +5 to hit with spell attacks). The acolyte knows the following spells:

• Cantrips (at will): charm person, fire bolt, hold person, light, mage hand, magic missile, misty step, shocking grasp.

Actions

Dagger. Melee Weapon Attack: +4 to hit, reach 1,5m, one target. Hit: 4 (1d4 + 2) piercing damage.

Tzaangors

The Tzaangors are avian Beastmen who serve Tzeentch, their unnatural instincts and animal savagery augmented with a keen, if cruel, intellect. They are often covered in savage totems and carry weapons of bone, iron or crystal.

Tzaangor origins are as multifarious as the plans of Tzeentch themselves. Some are Gor kin corrupted, or elevated, as they might say, by a Tzaangor Shaman; others might be humans who have undergone horrific rituals. Others still are beast children, mutants born of human parents and left to die, but instead found and raised by Arcanite Cults. Regardless of source, all recognise that they have been blessed by Tzeentch.

Tzaangors are far more intelligent than other Beastmen, and they look down upon their beastkin, seeing themselves as evolved and their cousins as little more than brute animals. The strangely mutated minds of Tzaangors have become particularly attuned to magic and they are drawn to the arcane, seeking to hoard it. Tzaangors are also closely bound to the strands of fate, their animal instincts able to detect omens the way beasts scent prey upon the winds.

Tzeentch did not transform his chosen beastmen to seek magic alone, he also created them to kill. Many rituals prepare Tzaangors for war, culminating in the weapon taking Tzaanwar, an unholy rite where the rent armor and broken weapons of foes are transformed into the resplendent gear worthy of fighters of Tzeentch. In battle the Tzaangor warflocks fight with savage skill, stabbing and hacking with curved swords or axes, as well as rending with horn and beak. As magical creatures they draw energy from the proximity of Tzeentchian sorcery and others of their kind, the more groupings, the more savage they become.

Tzaangor

Medium humanoid, chaotic evil

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• Armor Class 13 (natural armor)
• Hit Points 38 (5d8 + 15)
• Speed 15m.

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STR	DEX	CON	INT	WIS	CHA
16(+3)	15(+2)	16(+3)	17(+3)	14(+2)	10(+0)

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• Skills Arcana +6, Stealth +5
• Senses passive Perception 12
• Languages Beast Tongue, Dark Tongue
• Challenge 2 (450 XP)

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Beast Charge. If the tzaangor moves at least 6m toward a target and then hits it with a gore attack on the same turn, the target takes an extra 5 (2d4) piercing damage. If the target is a creature, it must succeed on a DC 13 Strength saving throw or be pushed up to 3m and knocked prone.

Mark of Tzeentch. The tzaangor has advantage on Intelligence checks and Int/Wis/Cha saving throws against spells and other magical effects. Additionally any spells cast by the blessed deal one additional die of damage, e.g 3d6 becomes 4d6.

Spellcasting. The tzaangor is a spellcaster. Its spellcasting ability is Intelligence (spell save DC 14, +6 to hit with spell attacks). The tzaangor knows the following spells:

• Cantrips (at will): light, mage armor, magic missile, misty step, shocking grasp.

Actions

Multiattack. The tzaangor makes three attacks: two with its blessed-blades and one with its beak.

Blessed-Blades. Melee Weapon Attack: +6 to hit, reach 1,5m, one target. Hit: 7 (1d8 + 3) slashing damage plus 5 (1d10) chaotic damage.

Beak. Melee Weapon Attack: +6 to hit, reach 1,5m, one target. Hit: 6 (1d6 + 3) piercing damage.

Knights of Tzeentch

The Knights of Tzeentch, also known as Kaldour's Knights of Tzeentch, are mighty warriors, men of great intellect and wit, cunning and wisdom. Many were nobles of great importance, men with great temporal power. They despised their peers so much that in yearning for the company of equals they abandoned humanity and civilization. Scorning warbands of brutish Beastmen or uncouth Ogres, they have joined together as a band of warriors.

Most of the Knights of Tzeentch ride great Chaos Steeds in battle and carry lances in a grotesque echo of the Knightly Orders to which many of them once belonged. The Knights of Tzeentch wear deep imperial blue and rich yellows, their weapons are often gilded, and decorated with gems and carvings.

The Knights carry ornate back banners decorated with the symbols of their master, the flaming chalice, the unblinking eye, the coiled serpent, the symbol of broken balance and many, many others.

Some of the Knights of Tzeentch ride to battle in chariots. These are splendid and spectacular creations. They typically boast a whole array of silk banners, ribbons and feathered standards. The chariots of the Knights of Tzeentch are slender constructions, finely made from rare materials like silver or ivory.

The Knights of Tzeentch choose their Grand Master from amongst themselves with a complicated and twisted process of voting. The current Grand Master is Lord Kaldour. He is blessed with the many layered wisdom of Tzeentch himself, and is as cruel as a Daemon. He is first amongst equals, a man who uses his considerable talents and intelligence to bring misery and destruction upon the world.

Lord Kaldour wears silver armor that is polished to shine like a mirror. It is said that a man can see his reflection on the surface, but that reflection will be warped and twisted, showing the innermost potential for darkness in his own soul.

Knight of Tzeentch

Medium humanoid, chaotic evil

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• Armor Class 22 (heavy chaos armor)
• Hit Points 105 (14d8 + 42)
• Speed 9m.

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STR	DEX	CON	INT	WIS	CHA
18(+4)	16(+3)	17(+3)	20(+5)	12(+1)	18(+4)

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• Saving Throws Str +9, Int +10, Cha +9
• Skills Arcana +10, History +10, Investigation +10
• Condition Immunities charmed
• Senses passive Perception 11
• Languages Common, Dark Tongue
• Challenge 7 (2900 XP)

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Mark of Tzeentch. The knight has advantage on Intelligence checks and Int/Wis/Cha saving throws against spells and other magical effects. Additionally any spells cast by the blessed deal one additional die of damage, e.g 3d6 becomes 4d6.

Weapon Blast. The knight can channel its magic through its blade. Whenever it makes a melee attack it may cast a touch spell as a bonus action, as part of the melee attack. If the strike lands the Knight adds the effects of the spell to the normal damage of the weapon.

Spellcasting. The knight is a spellcaster. Its spellcasting ability is Intelligence (spell save DC 18, +10 to hit with spell attacks). The knight knows the following spells:

• Cantrips (at will): burning hands, greenflame blade, light, magic missile, misty step, shocking grasp.

Actions

Multiattack. The knight makes two attacks with its demon-longsword.

Demon-Longsword. Melee Weapon Attack: +8 to hit, reach 1,5m, one target. Hit: 8 (1d10 + 3) slashing damage plus 11 (2d10) fire damage.

Bolt of Change. Ranged Magic Attack: +10 to hit, range 36m, one target. Hit: 26 (6d6 + 5) chaotic damage.

Tzeentch Curse

Arcane Magic can be unpredictable. The more power you use to cast a spell, the more likely it is that something unexpected will happen. This is Tzeentch’s Curse. Not all Wizards honor Tzeentch, the Chaos God of Magic and Change, but all fear him, for meddling with magic is a dangerous business and its consequences can be even worse than death itself. Whenever a Lore spell is cast (cantrips are not included) the magic wielder has to roll a d20 to see if it is successful. Results of 18, 19 or 20 represent respectively a minor, major or catastrophic miscast. This means that the spell fails in the way explained in its description and the DM has to roll on the appropriate Chaos Manifestation Table for ulterior effects.

Spellcasting

Every time that a Chaos Sorcerer casts a Lore spell (cantrips are not included) it has to roll a d20 and gain half that much Mutation Points.

Results of 18, 19 or 20 represent respectively a minor, major or catastrophic miscast. This means that the spell fails in the way explained in its description and the DM has to roll on the appropriate Chaos Manifestation Table for ulterior effects.

The Sorcerer has a pool of maximum 50 Mutation Points, when it gains more than this amount it becomes unstable and it might loose control over the winds of magic. Every round of combat that it ends with more than 50 Mutation Points it has to succeed on a Int/Wis/Cha saving throw (DC = currents Mutation Points-50) or develop a random mutation (see Random Mutations Table page x).

Chaotic Siphoning: As an action the Sorcerer can concentrate on ridding itself of excessive chaotic energy, loosing 1d12 + Int/Wis/Cha modifier Mutation Points. Otherwise it automatically cleanses its body, when not casting any Lore spell, at a rate of 1 Mutation Point lost every round.

Cantrips

Cantrips are simple spells, safe enough to practice without the risk of Tzeentch's Curse and able to be cast at will.

They are usually distinct in:

• Petty Magic: the lowest form of magic, learned by dabblers and base Sorcerers first learning the arts of Chaos. Most practitioners of Dark Magic learn these spells before attempting greater magic.
• Lesser Spells: commonly known spells any spellcaster can learn. Learned from dusty tomes and old grimoires, these spells are rarely taught but can be mastered by anyone who has a strong foundation in spellcasting.

Random Mutations

Cyclops

The target's face warps into an unrecognisable mass of writhing tissue. After a few moments, it restores itself to almost its former state. Unfortunately, one of its eyes saw the churning flesh as its opportunity to escape, promptly grew wings, and flew away. Now, it has but one eye in the centre of its face, just above its nose. The creature has disadvantage on Wisdom (Perception) checks made with its eye.

Variations: In about 10% of all Mutants with this mutation, the eye does not centre and instead drifts to some other part of the face. One of the most horrid examples are where the eye moves to the mouth.

Dimensional Instability

The creature loses its connection to the physical world, becoming a creature of the Realm of Chaos. Like Daemons and their ilk, it can be forced out of the physical world to the plane of Daemons with banishments and similar magic effects. In addition the creature phases in and out of the material plane like under a permanent Blink spell connected to the Warp.

Feral Appearance

The creature face mutates, gaining the appearance of some sort of animal or fiend. From now on it has advantage on Charisma (Intimidation) checks and disadvantage on Charisma (Persuasion) checks.

Flaming Skull Face

The flesh of the creature's face sloughs away leaving a naked skull. Moments later, the bone erupts in hellish flames. It can attack with its flaming head, gaining a Flaming Headbutt attack option: Melee Weapon Attack: (proficiency bonus + Str modifier) to hit, reach 1,5m, one target. Hit: (1d10 + Str modifier) fire damage. If it has horns, fangs or some other mutation of the head, this damage is in addition to their normal damage.

Horns

Horns grow out from the mutant's forehead. It can use them to make attacks, gaining a Gore attack option: Melee Weapon Attack: (proficiency bonus + Str modifier) to hit, reach 1,5m, one target. Hit: (1d8 + Str modifier) piercing damage. Each time it gains this mutation, the horns grow larger. The second time it gains this mutation, the horns inflict 1d10 damage, the third time they inflict 1d12 and so on. The Horns prevent the mutant from wearing helms, lowering its AC by 2 when using medium or heavy armor.

Variations: The horns may be smooth, twisted, or notched. Oftentimes, they also feature symbols of Chaos, foul words in Dark Speech, or insults targeting people the Mutant meets.

Infested

Maggots infest the creature's body, hiding in the crevices of its brain, splashing in the fluids of its stomach, and rattling in its lungs. The mutant has a -2 penalty to Constitution. These little friends tend to show up at the least opportune time, dropping in its (or others’) food, slipping from a cuff when it shakes hands, or falling from the nostril when trying to impress an attractive lady.

Variations: Other infestations can also be entertaining. Scabies, worms and other vermin promise hours of amusement.

Inside Out

Jealous of the mutant's skin, its guts conspire to break free from its body. In a long and painful process, the body turns itself inside out so that the creature wear its organs on the outside. It has a -4 penalty to Constitution and it can no longer wear normal armor (only Chaos Armour). In addition any critical hit made against it inflicts double damage (roll the damage dice four times).

Multiple Eyes

The creature grows a third eye in the centre of its head. Chaos Armour changes to accommodate this mutation, but other helmets and coifs, though not skullcaps, will need modification to gain the benefits of the additional eye. The mutant has advantage on saving throws against being blinded and on Wisdom (Perception) checks based on sight.

Variations: Additional Eyes can sprout anywhere on the body, not just on the face.

Pincer Hand

The mutant's hand (right or left as the GM decides) painfully splits down the centre and transforms into something like a crab claw, gaining a Pincer attack option: Melee Weapon Attack: (proficiency bonus + Str modifier) to hit, reach 1,5m, one target. Hit: (1d10 + Str modifier) piercing damage. The Mutant has also advantage on Strength (Athletics) checks made to grapple.

Regeneration

The creature heals very quickly. At the start of its turn, each round, it regains 5 hit points. If the mutant takes acid or fire damage, this trait doesn't function at the start of the its next turn. The mutant dies only if it starts its turn with 0 hit points and doesn't regenerate.

Tail

The creature is surprised to discover it has somehow grown a thick reptilian tail that ends in a knobbly spiked ball, gaining a Tail attack option: Melee Weapon Attack: (proficiency bonus + Str modifier) to hit, reach 3m, one target. Hit: (1d8 + Str modifier) bludgeoning damage. In addition the creature has advantage on Dexterity checks made to maintain balance.

Tentacles

One of the mutant's arms withers away, replaced by a horrible tentacle covered in fine suckers. The tentacle can grasp weapons normally, but it is not capable of fine manipulation, every spell with a somatic component has a 50% chance of failing. This mutation also grants a Tentacle attack option: Melee Weapon Attack: (proficiency bonus + Str modifier) to hit, reach 1,5m, one target. Hit: (1d8 + Str modifier) bludgeoning damage, a +2 bonus to Strength and advantage on Strength (Athletics) checks made to grapple.

Spew

Chaotic necromancy

• Casting Time: 1 action
• Range: 18m
• Components: V, S
• Duration: 10 minutes

You force a target within range to spit up a little vomit unless he succeeds on a Constitution saving throw against your spell save DC. If it fails the target is considered poisoned for the duration and can attempt to save against the spell at the end of each of its turn.

Suppress Mutation

Chaotic abjuration

• Casting Time: 1 action
• Range: touch
• Components: V, S
• Duration: Permanent

You attempt to rid a mutant you touch of one mutation of your choosing. Make a Spellcasting ability modifier check (DC=15). On a success the target is healed from the mutation, on a fail it suffers 4d10 psychic damage and develops another random mutation. If the subject is unwilling, he can attempt a Wisdom saving throw to resist the spell.

Spells:

The Sorcerers know spells from the following list: Boon of Chaos, Burning Blood, Dark Hand of Destruction, Lure of Chaos, Summon Daemon Pack, Touch of Chaos, Veil of Corruption, Vision of Torment, Word of Pain.

Boon of Chaos

Chaotic enchantment

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• Casting Time: 1 minute
• Range: Touch
• Components: V, S, M (10 souls as sacrifice to the Ruinous Powers)
• Duration: 1 hour

You call upon the favor of the Dark Gods of Chaos, chaotic energy washes out from you and coalesces in a soft glow around the target. It gains advantage on melee attack rolls and saving throws for the duration.

Miscast: On a 18-19 the spell is interrupted with no effects, on a 20 the Dark Gods have been seriously bothered, resulting in them sending angry daemons to punish you for your petty requests. Roll a d10:

• 1--5; a small number of lesser daemons
• 6--9; 1d4 daemons
• 10; one greater daemon

Burning Blood

Chaotic necromancy

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• Casting Time: 1 action
• Range: Touch
• Components: V, S, M (1 soul as sacrifice to the Ruinous Powers)
• Duration: 1 hour

You tap into the winds of magic, letting the power of the warp fill the target's body and soul with chaotic energy. As a result for the duration its blood boils like hot water, damaging everyone in a 1,5m radius around it for 1d6 fire damage every time it gets hit. When the target becomes bloodied (under half HP) this damage is increased to 2d6 and it's also applied to every creature touching it.

Miscast: On a 18-19 the spell is interrupted with no effects, on a 20 you channel too much magic, melting the target's body as it is infused with warping energy. The target develops one random mutation and suffers 8d6 fire damage.

Dark Hand of Destruction

Chaotic necromancy

• Casting Time: 1 action
• Range: Self
• Components: V, S
• Duration: Concentration, up to 10 minutes

You wreath your hand in a nimbus of Dark Magic, as a result your touch carries the power of the Warp, turning matter into dust and life into death. Make a melee spell attack against a creature within your reach. On a hit, the target takes 8d6 necrotic damage. If this damage reduces the target to 0 hit points, it is disintegrated. Until the spell ends, you can make the attack again on each of your turns as an action.

Miscast: On a 18-19 the spell is interrupted with no effects, on a 20 you accidentally touch yourself with the disintegrating power of your magic, suffering the effect of the spell once.

Touch of Chaos

Chaotic necromancy

• Casting Time: 1 action
• Range: Touch
• Components: S
• Duration: Instantaneous

Your touch channels pure Chaos energy into one target, invading its mind and body with vile dark magic. Make a melee spell attack against a creature within your reach. On a hit, the target takes 4d10 psychic damage and it must succeed in a Wisdom saving throw or gain a random mutation and a random madness (DM's Guide page 258). Roll a d10:

Miscast: On a 18-19 the spell is interrupted with no effects, on a 20 Chaos energy invades your body causing you to develop one random mutation and madness.

Veil of Corruption

Chaotic evocation

• Casting Time: 1 action
• Range: 45m
• Components: V, M (a skull from a humanoid killed within the past 24 hours)
• Duration: Concentration, up to 10 minutes

A foul cloud of corruption spreads from a point you choose within range to fill a 18m radius sphere until the spell ends. The corruption spreads around corners, and its area is heavily obscured. It lasts for the duration or until a strong magical wind disperses it. Shrieks, gibbering, and mad laughter can be heard within the sphere. Whenever a creature starts its turn in the sphere, it must make a Wisdom saving throw, taking 8d8 psychic damage on a failed save, or half as much damage on a successful one. Creatures killed inside the corruption are brought back as Chaos Spawns.

Miscast: On a 18-19 the spell is interrupted with no effects, on a 20 you loose control of the spell that goes off centered on you.

Vision of Torment

Chaotic enchantment

• Casting Time: 1 action
• Range: 27m
• Components: V, S, M (two hearts from humanoids killed within the past 24 hours)
• Duration: Instantaneous

You unleash the power of your Dark Patrons to blast the intellect of up to ten creatures of your choice that you can see within range. Creatures that have an Intelligence score of 3 or lower are unaffected, as they do not comprehend the insanity of the hellish visions casted upon them. Each target must make an Intelligence saving throw. On a failed save, a target takes 14d6 psychic damage and is stunned. On a successful save, a target takes half as much damage and isn’t stunned. If a target is killed by this damage, its head explodes, assuming it has one. A stunned target can make an Intelligence saving throw at the end of each of its turns. On a successful save, the stunning effect ends.

Miscast: On a 18-19 the spell is interrupted with no effects, on a 20 you are the target of the horrifying visions, suffering the enchantment's effects.

Word of Pain

Chaotic enchantment

• Casting Time: 1 action
• Range: 18m
• Components: V
• Duration: Instantaneous

You speak a word of power that causes waves of intense pain to assail one creature you can see within range. If the target has 100 hit points or fewer, it is subject to crippling pain. Otherwise, the spell has no effect on it. While the target is affected by crippling pain, any speed it has can be no higher than 3m. The target also has disadvantage on attack rolls, ability checks, and saving throws, other than Constitution saving throws. Finally, if the target tries to cast a spell, it must first succeed on a Constitution saving throw, or the casting fails and the spell is wasted. A target suffering this pain can make a Constitution saving throw at the end of each of its turns. On a successful save, the pain ends.

Miscast: On a 18-19 the spell is interrupted with no effects, on a 20 you loose control of the spell, suffering its effects as chaotic energy surges flows through your body.

Lore of Tzeentch

Mindfire

Chaotic evocation

• Casting Time: 1 action
• Range: Self (30m line)
• Components: V, S
• Duration: Instantaneous

You concentrate with your mind materializing a lance of magenta flame imbued by chaotic power that can leap forth from your hand to strike your foes. The flames form a 30m long and 1,5m wide line, originating out from you in a direction you choose. Each creature in the line must make a Dexterity saving throw. A creature takes 6d6 fire damage plus 6d6 psychic damage on a failed save and gain one Short Term Madness (DM's Guide page 258), or half as much damage on a successful one. The fire ignites flammable objects in the area that aren't being worn or carried.

Miscast: On a 18-19 the spell is interrupted with no effects, on a 20 the spell explodes in your hands during the preparation, targeting you and everyone else in a 3m radius around you.

Transformation of Tzeentch

Chaotic transmutation

• Casting Time: 1 action
• Range: 9m
• Components: V, S, M (an eye taken from a humanoid killed within the past 24 hours)
• Duration: Concentration, up to 1 minute

Choose one creature you can see within range. The target must succeed on a Constitution saving throw or collapse as its body undergoes a series of horrific transformations. Each round, until you lose concentration, or the spell ends, the target must repeat the saving throw. If the creature succeeds in its save the spell expires. When the spell ends the creature develop one random mutations for each failed saving throw. Whilst under the effect of the spell, the target is considered paralyzed by crippling pain.

Miscast: On a 18-19 the spell is interrupted with no effects, on a 20 you lose control over the winds of magic that fill your body, messing up its structure and mutating it. You are the target of the spell for the duration, or until you make a successful Constitution saving throw against your spell save DC.

Tzeentch's Blessing

Chaotic enchantment

• Casting Time: 1 hour
• Range: Personal
• Components: V, S, M (10 souls as sacrifice to the Ruinous Powers)
• Duration: 1 day

You cry out to Tzeentch for the Dark God’s blessing. Roll 1d10. On an odd number, you gain one mutation. On an even number you may add one spell from any Lore to your spell list for one day.

Miscast: On a 18-19 the spell is interrupted with no effects, on a 20 Tzeentch's is displeased. You roll Magic checks to cast spell with disadvantage for 1 day.

Tzeentch's Fire Storm

Chaotic evocation

• Casting Time: 1 action
• Range: 45m
• Components: V, S
• Duration: Instantaneous

You cause a blasphemous storm of purple roaring flame to erupt in a location you choose within range. The area of the storm consists of up to ten 3m cubes, which you can arrange as you wish. Each cube must have at least one face adjacent to the face of another cube. Each creature in the area must make a Dexterity saving throw. It takes 8d10 fire damage on a failed save, or half as much damage on a successful one. The fire damages objects in the area and ignites flammable objects that aren't being worn or carried. Those slain by Tzeentch’s fire storm are incinerated, transformed into pink ash that blows away in the wind. In addition the ashes swirl about for 2 rounds and finally coalesce into Pink Horrors of Tzeentch, one for each victim slain. These creatures are not under your control, and they attack the closest creatures to them. They eventually grow weary of this world and return to the Realm of Chaos after 1d10 rounds.

Miscast: On a 18-19 the spell is interrupted with no effects, on a 20 you lose control over the winds of magic, casting the spell before aiming. As a result it goes off in a 15m radius sphere centered on you.

Vilitch the Curseling

Vilitch the Curseling, known also as the Master of Misrule, and the Twisted Twin, is a mutant sorcerer of Tzeentch, permanently fused to his more muscular brother, Thomin.

History. Once there was born a pair of twins; one healthy, strong and good to look upon, and one wretched, weak and tiny. Though the tribe’s leaders expected the wholesome son to become a great warrior, it was the runt Vilitch who was to change their fate forever.

The twins had a difficult birth, and their mother died soon afterward, for it took all her strength to nourish the greedy infants. As they grew up, Thomin, the thriving twin, excelled in the hunt, and soon rose to lead the tribe’s youngest warriors. The weakling Vilitch, on the other hand, was universally despised for his ugliness and frailty. He was forced to perform his dead mother’s chores and, humiliatingly, was denied the use of a sword. Thomin used to beat Vilitch for the slightest infraction and, despite the runt’s pleas, his father would not intervene.

As they grew up, Thomin became well muscled and athletic, quickly learning the ways of the warrior. Vilitch barely managed to scrape by as an apprentice to the tribe’s shaman, where he learnt a few meagre cantrips and a little knowledge about the powers that dwelt beyond the veil. Every night, the runtling prayed fervently to Tzeentch to reverse their fates, to make him the strong one and his brother the slave. The Great Sorcerer, who delights in anarchy, eventually agreed to Vilitch’s selfish request.

One Geheimnisnacht, when the Chaos moon passed close to the world, Vilitch awoke to find that his body and that of his sibling Thomin had melded together. His brother’s intellect had been added to his own, and there was nothing left of Thomin’s mind save for a drooling automaton enthralled to Vilitch’s command.

The grotesque fusion of warrior and runtling that staggered out of the twins’ tent glowed with the power of baleful magic. Vilitch’s budding magical abilities had been enhanced a hundredfold, and the hulking body to which his withered frame had been fused was possessed of diabolic strength. Laughing maniacally at his newfound powers, Vilitch embarked upon a bloody killing spree, sending crackling arcs of pure change into those who had looked down upon him in the past and forcing the body of Thomin to throttle any who tried to stop him. By the time the sun set, the village had been consumed by sorcerous fire and the streets ran with molten flesh.

But Vilitch’s story did not end there. The malformed sorcerer twin hunted down all of the warrior elite of his tribe and used his dire powers to enslave their minds, making them little more than walking puppets that lived and died according to his whims. Now, wherever the Curseling plots and schemes to further his own power, a band of hard bitten veterans marches at his side, each of them under the fearful command of the disturbing creature that they know only as the Twisted Twin.

Magic Items. Vessel of Chaos: Vilitch enjoys the patronage of the Great Sorcerer himself and as part of Tzeentch's fickle plans, he has gifted the Twisted Twin with a dark crucible; a powerful artefact that is able to harness and store a great reservoir of unstable magical energy.

Followers of Slaanesh

Slaanesh, also known as the Dark Prince, the Prince of Pleasure, the Lord of Excess, the Perfect Prince, and even the Prince of Chaos is the Chaos God of Pleasure, Passion, Love and Decadence. Slaanesh is the the Dark God dedicated to the pursuit of earthly gratification and the overthrow of all decent behavior, as well as hedonism and pleasure for its own sake. He is the God of Obsession, the Master of Excess in All Things, from gluttony to lust to megalomania. Out of all the pantheon, Slaanesh is the youngest of the Chaos Gods, for the complex emotions of Love and Decadence can only exist within the minds of intelligent races.

On one side of his nature, Slaanesh is the embodiment of Love, Passion and the vibrant Art. Those that dabble with such emotions are usually those of artisans, dancers and flamboyant nobles of the southern realms. However, he is also the embodiment of Hubris, Pride and Pain. Every breath is an opportunity to take in a new scent. Each glass raised is a chance to savor a new flavor. On every battlefield, each sword blow can entice a never before heard pain filled scream. From his glittering palace, the Lord of Excess revels in each new sensation discovered. He guides and directs the inhabitants of the world to push ever onwards towards new heights of sensation with no forms of moral boundary.

Unlike the influence of the other Chaos Gods, Slaanesh influence is more prevalent amongst the civilized nations of the Old World. The warlike tribes of the north have very little time to indulge themselves in their desires, for every waking moment is a simple fight for survival. As a result, perhaps the most numerous disciples of Slaanesh hail from the decadent peoples of the south. It is only from here that a person can indulge themselves in the pleasures of life, such as beautiful artwork, culinary delights, extravagant clothing, and the pleasures of the flesh. And none have the time and wealth to indulge themselves in such delights than the wealthy nobility.

Slaaneshi Cults

Easily the most insidious and subtle of the Chaos cults, followers of Slaanesh are dedicated to serving their God through the subversion and corruption of others. Cultists are wanton hedonists who seek stranger and more perverse delights to shock their jaded senses into some kind of reaction. Over time, cultists lose all sense of morality or scruples, turning to murder and vile debauchery in the name of Slaanesh, the God of Pleasure.

The cult of Slaanesh strives to insinuate itself in all levels of society. It is popular among the upper classes, the members of which often do not know exactly what it is that they are worshipping. In their quest for pleasurable moments, these misguided folk find amusement and novelty in paying homage to strange, seductive idols or partaking in debauched gatherings behind closed doors. Artists, poets, and other seekers of sensual things are often drawn to Slaanesh’s cults. Of them all, the cult of Slaanesh is probably the hardest to uproot, as the political fallout of revealing such heresy could topple the entire Empire.

Hellstriders of Slaanesh

Hellstriders of Slaanesh are devotees of torment who hunt from the back of impossibly swift daemonic steeds. They fight to inflict pain and despair, landing mortal blows upon their victims where they are most likely to prolong the agonizing moment of death. Some Hellstriders fight with blades that long ago mutated into their own flesh, whilst others carry a mass of writhing lashes that move with an intelligence of their own. These barbed whips strike out with incredible speed, splitting skin, ripping out throats and flensing flesh in the blink of an eye.

Slaanesh finds the desperation of mortals exhilarating, especially in those wretches who struggle in vain to achieve greatness when they possess neither the strength nor the cunning to succeed. To these weak willed men, Slaanesh whispers a dark bargain; power, but at a price. The Dark Prince sends a Steed of Slaanesh to these mortals, offering the creature as a gift to carry him from one glorious victory to the next. In exchange, Slaanesh asks only that his enemies’ souls are sacrificed to him. Few can resist so tempting an offer, for with such a kingly gift they would surely have the power they need to become a mighty Chaos Lord. However, once they sit astride the daemonic steed and the pact is sealed, they will never again dismount. Though they do not yet realize it, they have just become Slaanesh’s willing slaves.

As a Hellstrider fells his enemies, each slain soul is rewarded by the Dark Prince. Intoxicating energy courses through the warrior’s veins, invigorating his form with a potent draught of pain and despair which leaves him shuddering in delight. However, such pleasure does not last for long, and it is addictive in the extreme. At battle’s end, all that remains are the pangs of suffering and a gnawing hunger that consumes all thoughts bar one; to feel Slaanesh’s stimulating embrace again. Not even the dream of becoming a mighty Lord of Chaos survives, sacrificed as the cravings take hold. So it is that Hellstriders have cursed themselves to the eternal hunt; they must fight to feed their addiction to pain and torment, or die from the withdrawal; there are no other choices.

Sigvald the Magnificent

Sigvald the Magnificent, known also as Prince Sigvald, the Geld Prince and the Prince of the Decadent Host, is amongst the most infamous of Slaanesh's favored servants within the Old World, made legend by his prowess on the battlefield and his disturbing yet angelic beauty. Though he appears to be little more than sixteen summers of age, Sigvald the Magnificent has blighted the world for over three hundred years.

The personification of beauty on the outside, but rot within, the Geld Prince rides at the head of an army of utterly devoted followers who would give their lives for him without a second thought. His elite bodyguard bear mirrored shields so that Sigvald might bask in his own divine glory, and dozens of exotic females attend to his every whim and desire.

Such are the depths of Sigvald’s self obsession that he will even call his retainers to attend him with their mirrors in the midst of battle, preening and murmuring compliments to himself as men plunge into battle and die all around him. Sigvald’s baroque armor remains forever untarnished by age or the tiniest fleck of dirt, and warm perfumed air surrounds him even during the fiercest blizzard. The ground itself reshapes itself to let Sigvald pass, and his feet float an inch above the world’s surface so that his boots are never touched by the mud or gore of the battlefield. He has defeated warriors twice his size with a contemptuous flick of his rapier, for Sigvald the Magnificent is the chosen scion of Slaanesh, his every wish granted in exchange for an eternity of depravity.

History. Sigvald was once the son of a powerful warlord king whose dark desires led him to carnal and unnatural acts. When a child was born from the union of the warlord and his own sister, the bastard infant was handsome indeed. His hair was like spun gold and his skin was unblemished save for a tiny horned birthmark on the back of his neck. At first, Sigvald’s every wish was made manifest. However, the Prince’s excesses eventually grew too obscene even for his father and, when his fondness for human flesh was discovered, Sigvald was banished. The boy prince feigned dismay, but when his father retired for bed, Sigvald slew him with his own blade. The boy prince left the tribe, reasoning that a man of his calibre would thrive in the Chaos Wastes. And thrive he did, but not through honest toil. Before the next dawn, the young warrior had a new patron in the form of Slaanesh.

This all came to pass when Sigvald came upon a small valley nestled between a small mountain range, deep within the heart of the Chaos Waste. It is here that he found a serene and beautiful landscape, completely shielded from the horrors which rage across the northern hellscape. It was from here that Sigvald, in his desire for perfection, gave his soul to a daemonic Slaaneshi entity known only as Belus Pül. In exchange for his patronage, Sigvald promised the daemon that he would follow his dream and indulge himself in every kind of decadence no matter how slight. With his soul sold to the daemon, Sigvald was given the power he needed to acquire anything he so desires.

Hundreds of years later, Sigvald the Magnificent marches to war at the head of an army of admiring followers. Any who the Prince deems to be ugly, crude or irritating he has put to the blade, sometimes eradicating whole cities on a whim.

Slaanesh spoils his adopted son as an indulgent father, and Sigvald’s wild excesses only serve to elevate him further in the Dark Prince’s favor. Jaded and capricious in the extreme, Sigvald the Magnificent ever strives to plumb new depths of cruelty in his conquests. He inspires fanatical devotion in his followers, for they know that in the aftermath of battle, they may sate their most unholy lusts without restraint.

Sigvald's Folly. It was the year 211 of the 11th Phoenix King. Having long felt aggrieved that the folk of Ulthuan were renowned for more fulsome and golden locks than he, Prince Sigvald took ship to the Island, his goal to scalp every Elf who crossed his path. With him traveled an army of blood hungry Chaos Warriors, who cared not why Sigvald brought war to the Elven realm, so long as there was plunder to be taken and the glory of the Dark Gods to be earned.

Princess Eldyra, by now a general in her own right, led the counterattack. Initially unsure of the Chaos horde's size, Eldrya elected to harry the force as it headed inland. Charioteers were tasked with hunting down and eliminating Sigvald's scouts, whilst Shadow Warriors launched daring night time raids to destroy supplies, slay horses and assassinate the Chaos Lord's lieutenants. At Eldrya's direction, spells of concealment hid towns, waystones, and mansions from the oncoming foe. Harried and blinded, Sigvald's army was soon lost in the Cothique highlands.

Division soon set in amongst the Chaos ranks, for there was little plunder, and no glory at all in enduring the lethal pinpricks of the Shadow Warriors' attacks. Sigvald had to best ever more frequent challenges to his leadership, yet pride would not allow him to turn back or compromise his goals. Soon, he had slain as many of his own lieutenants as had the Shadow Warriors who plagued his advance. It was in the midst of one such death duel, begun by a hulking brute named Dranak Goredrinker, that Eldrya finally unleashed her attack.

Pennants streaming, great spear formations of Silver Helms pierced the heart of the Chaos army, slaying a great many of the Northmen before they could even form up. Even then, the Chaos Warriors could have prevailed, had Sigvald found it within himself to set aside his enmity with Goredrinker for a few hours. As it was, Sigvald's vain refusal to halt the death duel for such a trifling occurrence as an enemy attack cost his army dear. By the time night fell, the High Elves had won a crushing victory.

Followers of Nurgle

Nurgle, also known as the Plague Lord, the Lord of Pestilence, the Fly Lord, and the Urfather is the Chaos God of Disease, Decay, Destruction, and Death by Rebirth. He is the eldest of the four Chaos Gods and is the most directly involved with the plight of mortals, particularly humans who suffer so acutely from a fear of death. Indeed, Nurgle is undoubtedly the oldest of the Chaos Gods, for the process of death and decay is as old as Life itself. When the first forms of life had lived upon the universe, they've lived and then would inevitably die, and from this death came the primordial Nurgle.

On one side of his nature, Nurgle is unexpectedly also the God of Rebirth. After all, decay is simply one part of the cycle of life, without which no new life could grow. In the same way, Nurgle is also the God of Perseverance and Survival. While those who wish to spread decay and corruption are certainly amongst his followers, there are also those who wish to endure, to become tough enough to handle the difficulties and opportunities presented by an uncaring world. Many of those affected by Nurgle's poxes usually turn to him in order to escape the pain caused by sickness and disease, and while the other Three Gods of Chaos have little care for their followers, it is Nurgle who places an uncommon love, admiration, and faith upon those that would follow his blighted footsteps.

Out of all the Dark Gods, Nurgle is perhaps the least worshiped amongst the tribes of the North. Nurgle's worship is only done when plagues and disease are prevalent amongst their people, for to do so otherwise would simply bring the same diseases upon their lands. In this dire state, the Northmen tribes would often appease Nurgle by offerings of gifts or sacrifices so that he would spare them from his diseases. Those that embrace these "gifts" are given unbelievable constitution against all disease and against even mortal weapons. Only the most powerful weapons or the most lethal of wounds can ever have a chance to bring a Follower of Nurgle down for good, and even to get close to such followers would often bring death to the aggressor himself.

Carnival of Nurgle

The Carnival of Nurgle is a daemonic carnival said to roam the mortal world on ill fated nights. Creaking wheels and the clop of hooves at dusk announces its arrival. From the gloom emerges a procession of wagons drawn by emaciated horses. The once colorful canvasses of these decrepit carts are torn aside, and gangrenous daemons jump out. Plaguebearers prepare for the performance while Nurglings bicker underfoot.

From the largest carriage shuffles a hulking Great Unclean One, the plagued ringleader of the show. The daemons begin their Dance of Death around the chosen settlement. Nurglings sing in falsetto, the plaguebearers in tenor, and the Great Unclean One provides a deep baritone. They sing of the delicious doom that awaits their victims. As the pageant progresses, the cacophony gets louder, and is joined by the howls of dogs and lowing of cattle from the nearby settlement. Pandemonium seeps into the dreams of the sleeping villagers, while those awake lie paralyzed with fear.

Upon the seventh circuit, the hullabaloo rises to fever pitch. Butter curdles, and milk sours. As a pale sun dawns in a sallow sky, silence falls. Then the daemons begin the main entertainment, afflicting every known disease upon their screaming audience. By nightfall, only rotten bones tell of the carnival’s passing.

Death Head of Nurgle

The Death Heads of Nurgle are common tools of war used by the thralls of the Plaguelord. Taking the skulls of foes they conquer, they cover them with wax mixed with blood to make them watertight. Then they draw pus from a Great Unclean One and pour it into the brain cavity before sealing it with more wax.

The skin of these severed heads are drawn tightly over the skull so that every detail of the bone beneath stands out starkly. Crawling with flies and maggots, such profane relics reek of evil, being used as grenades that erupt with clouds of Neighlish Rot upon hitting the ground. Only servants of Nurgle can handle these Death Heads safely. Anyone else who touches these items automatically contracts the deadly disease.

Pestigor

Medium humanoid, chaotic evil

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• Armor Class 19 (medium chaos armor)
• Hit Points 95 (10d8 + 50)
• Speed 9m.

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STR	DEX	CON	INT	WIS	CHA
18(+4)	12(+1)	20(+5)	8(-1)	14(+2)	8(-1)

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• Saving Throws Str +8, Con +9
• Skills Athletics +8, Stealth +5, Survival +6
• Damage Resistances bludgeoning, piercing and slashing from nonmagical weapons.
• Damage Immunities poison
• Condition Immunities exhaustion, poisoned
• Senses darkvision, passive Perception 12
• Languages Beast Tongue
• Challenge 6 (2300 XP)

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Beast Charge. If the pestigor moves at least 6m toward a target and then hits it with a gore attack on the same turn, the target takes an extra 7 (2d6) piercing damage. If the target is a creature, it must succeed on a DC 14 Strength saving throw or be pushed up to 3m and knocked prone.

Forest Ambusher. The pestigor has advantage on Stealth checks while hiding in a forest. In addition it has advantage on attack rolls against surprised enemies.

Frenzy. While in combat the pestigor has advantage on saving throws against charm and fear effects. In addition it can dash as a bonus action.

Mark of Nurgle. The pestigor has advantage on Constitution saving throws and is immune to diseases.

Nurgle's Fortitude. If damage reduces the pestigor to 0 hit points, it must make a Constitution saving throw with a DC of 5 + the damage taken, unless the damage is fire, radiant or from a critical hit. On a success, the pestigor drops to 1 hit point instead.

Reckless. The pestigor throws aside all concern for defense to attack with fierce desperation. Melee Strength attacks have advantage for this round of combat, but attacks against it also have advantage.

Actions

Multiattack. The pestigor makes two attacks with its blight-greataxe.

Blight-Greataxe. Melee Weapon Attack: +8 to hit, reach 1,5m, one target. Hit: 10 (1d12 + 4) slashing damage plus 5 (1d10) poison damage.

Gore. Melee Weapon Attack: +8 to hit, reach 1,5m, one target. Hit: 11 (2d6 + 4) piercing damage.

Rot Helms

The Putrid Rot Helms, also known as the Exalted Champions of Nurgle, are not one particular tribe or group, but rather a loose brotherhood that spans the northernmost regions of the world. Each of their number has been touched by Nurgle via his earthly emissaries; specifically, the daemonflies that have hatched from within the Chaos champion Bloab Rotspawned ever since the Lord of Decay claimed the sorcerer as a host for his tiny servants. Whilst Bloab Rotspawned sleeps, his many parasites whisper and scheme inside his sac like gut, talking of those warriors abroad in the world who deserve the favor of the Lord of Decay. When one such champion has proven himself beyond a doubt, a single daemonfly will take it upon itself to wind its way out of Bloab's snoring mouth and flit erratically into the night sky. So begins the tiny messenger's long journey, but it is not one without aid. As the daemonfly buzzes across the moonlit landscape, the sick light of Morrslieb enriches and invigorates it, filling the tiny creature with the energies of Chaos. Drawn to its quarry by a silver thread of fate, the fly will journey across half the world if necessary before alighting gently on the head of its target and sinking its mandibles into the flesh; a daemon kiss from Nurgle himself that transfers great physical strength and resilience. From that point on, the fly touched warrior finds himself completely attuned to the desires of Grandfather Nurgle, a ready made bodyguard for the Urfather's champions and a deadly force of destruction in his own right.

Connoisseurs of pestilence, these redoubtable warriors were tireless in their pursuit of new plagues to sample. They constantly vied amongst themselves for the most glorious of disfigurements and bone twisting mutations. In battle the Sons of the Last Plague were a powerful force indeed, able to shrug off the most vicious of blows as if they were no more than a mild inconvenience.

Though such individuals tend to band together and hence are usually encountered in warbands or tight knit military groups, each of the Rot Helms is deadly in his own right, a champion in the making who is fully prepared to fight and die for his vile god's cause. Many and varied are the weapons with which these blessed few perpetuate the cycle of life and death. They range from those which typify the tribes of the north, such as bone crushing flails and flesh hewing axes, to far stranger tools of destruction that echo the proclivities of their patron. Some of their number boast insectile appendages, others battle scythes, or staffs that carry massive verdigris stained bells, each clanging out a sonorous death toll as its wielder caves in the skulls and ribcages of his foes.

Nurgle's Rot effects:

Since this disease encompasses all the effects of the other plagues, that have been created by the Rot Father, new symptoms can manifest each day. An infested creature may develop new effects after each long rest on a failed Constitution saving throw (DC= 10 + Constitution modifier of the creature that infected the diseased). This effects are permanents and are actives each time the diseased fails its saving throw at the end of a long rest. A successful save inhibits the effects until the next long rest.

New effects may include:

• 1d10 psychic damage and development of an indefinite madness each time it is under intense stress
• Muscle Rot; Strength and Dexterity suffer a -2 penalty (cumulative for each failed save).
• The creature's blood turns to acid. It suffers an additional 1d10 acid damage each time it is hit by slashing attacks. This damage becomes 2d10 when the creature is bloodied (under half HP).
• Crippling Diarrhea; every time the creature rolls a natural 1, it is afflicted by intense pain as it evacuates its bowels. It is incapacitated, and suffers 1d6 bleeding damage at the start of its turn, until it succeeds on a Constitution saving throw (DC=12).

If the diseased pledges its soul to Nurgle all the negative effects are replaced by the Mark of Nurgle.

Knight Entropic

Large humanoid, chaotic evil

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• Armor Class 16 (medium chaos armor)
• Hit Points 105 (10d10 + 50)
• Speed 7,5m.

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STR	DEX	CON	INT	WIS	CHA
18(+4)	7(-2)	20(+5)	10(+0)	12(+1)	11(+0)

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• Saving Throws Str +8, Con +9
• Skills Athletics +8, Survival +5
• Damage Resistances bludgeoning, piercing and slashing from nonmagical weapons
• Damage Immunities poison
• Condition Immunities exhaustion, poisoned
• Senses darkvision, passive Perception 11
• Languages Common
• Challenge 6 (2300 XP)

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Mutant. The knight's tentacles grant it advantage on Strength (Athletics) checks made to grapple. In addition it regains 10 hit points at the start of its turn. If the knight takes fire or radiant damage, the regeneration doesn't function at the start of its next turn.

Nurgle's Fortitude. If damage reduces the knight to 0 hit points, it must make a Constitution saving throw with a DC of 5 + the damage taken, unless the damage is fire, radiant or from a critical hit. On a success, the knight drops to 1 hit point instead.

Mark of Nurgle. The knight has advantage on Constitution saving throws and is immune to diseases.

Actions

Multiattack. The knight makes three attacks: two with its blight-greataxe and one with its tentacles.

Blight-Greataxe. Melee Weapon Attack: +8 to hit, reach 1,5m, one target. Hit: 10 (1d12 + 4) slashing damage plus 5 (1d10) poison damage.

Tentacles. Melee Weapon Attack: +8 to hit, reach 3m, one target. Hit: 11 (2d6 + 4) bludgeoning damage.

Knights Entropic

Through ardent service in the name of the Lord of Decay, those who had begun their voyage through the Empire as drooling half spawn were now blessed with the minds to truly appreciate the fruits of their violent labors. Calling themselves the Knights Entropic, those who were once forsaken were now ready to enter into the good graces of Nurgle; though their beneficent patron was generous enough to let them keep every last mutation and disfigurement from their former incarnation.

Lore of Nurgle

As the father of plagues, Nurgle grants his servants a selection of foul spells that spread illness and despair. These spells are characterized by their profound vileness, involving disturbing odors, rotting flesh, and the corruption of the body.

Reveal the Inner Beauty

Chaotic necromancy

• Casting Time: 1 action
• Range: Touch
• Components: V, S
• Duration: Instantaneous

You cause an object or individual you touch to age rapidly. If inorganic, this spell causes nonmagical objects to become brittle, rusting metals and worsening their quality. If organic, the subject ripens rapidly until it begins to spoil, splitting open and spilling its stinking contents everywhere. A living creature must make a Constitution saving throw. It takes 4d8 necrotic damage and ages by that amount years on a failed save, or half as much damage on a successful one.

Miscast: On a 18-19 the spell is interrupted with no effects, on a 20 you experience the necrotic effects of your magic, casting the spell on yourself as dark energy ages your body.

Stench of Nurgle

Chaotic conjuration

• Casting Time: 1 action
• Range: Self (6m radius sphere)
• Components: V
• Duration: Concentration, up to 1 hour

Streams of foul smelling mist rise from your body and pollute the air in a 6m radius around you. The cloud spreads around corners, and its area is heavily obscured. The cloud lingers in the air for the duration. The stench is so noxious, those who breathe in the fumes are sickened, spraying vomit and becoming nearly incapacitated by the odor. Each creature that is completely within the cloud at the start of its turn must make a Constitution saving throw against poison. On a failed save, the creature spends its action that turn retching and reeling, suffering 2d10 poison damage. Creatures that don't need to breathe or are immune to poison automatically succeed on this saving throw. A moderate wind (at least 20 km per hour) disperses the cloud after 4 rounds. A strong wind (at least 40 km per hour) disperses it after 1 round.

Miscast: On a 18-19 the spell is interrupted with no effects, on a 20 you are nauseated by your own magic, becoming poisoned for the duration.

Stream of Corruption

Chaotic evocation

• Casting Time: 1 action
• Range: Self (18m cone)
• Components: V, S, M (the head of a poisonous snake)
• Duration: Instantaneous

You spew from your hands a stinking jet of putrid blood, pus, maggots, and slime. Each creature in a 18m cone must make a Constitution saving throw. A creature takes 8d8 poison damage on a failed save, or half as much damage on a successful one. A creature killed by this spell becomes a rotten corpse within seconds.

Miscast: On a 18-19 the spell is interrupted with no effects, on a 20 you fail to evacuate the stream of corruption that unpleasantly remains inside your bowels. Each time you suffer melee damage, for the rest of the day, you take an additional 1d8 acid damage.

Sumptuous Pestilence

Chaotic necromancy

• Casting Time: 1 action
• Range: 18m
• Components: V, S
• Duration: Permanent

You try to infect all living creatures within 18m with a terrible plague. Each creature must succeed on a Constitution saving throw or develop one random disease. Roll on the following table to see which pestilence you conjure up. Affected targets may recover (or not recover) from the diseases as normal.

Miscast: On a 18-19 the spell is interrupted with no effects, on a 20 the target is accidentally reinvigorated, gaining a +4 bonus to Constitution for one day.

Diseases

Plague and pestilence are facts of life in the Empire. The common folk suffer yearly outbreaks and epidemics of many types. Some choose to trust to Shallya to heal their ills, whilst others prefer to place their faith in doctors and quackery. Whatever the case, the old, the young, the unwashed and the unlucky are frequent victims of disease. When exposed to a disease, a character must make a successful Constitution saving throw (DC=13) or contract it. The disease lasts for a set number of days, explained in its description, modified by the results of a second Constitution saving throw. Each degree of success shortens the duration by one day, while each degree of failure lengthens it by one day. Once every three days, a character with the Medicine Skill can attempt to aid the character as well. A successful check shortens the duration by one day. When the duration drops to 0, the character recovers from the disease.

Scurvy Madness

Description: This dangerous disease causes painful swellings upon the lips, tongue and gums. When these burst usually whilst sneezing foul tasting and infectious pus sprays out, sometimes up to 1,5m away. A high fever induces hallucinations and a terrible thirst in the victim, who must be doused in water and kept cool at all costs. People in the grip of the madness have gone on violent rampages, made shocking admissions and caused dangerous scandals. Folk cures include strapping sufferers to a stout board and forcing either grog with vinegar and lime juice or a live frog down their gullet.

Duration: 7 days.

Effects: The sufferer must make a Constitution saving throw (DC=11) each time it finds itself under stressful situations. On a failed save it experiences strange hallucinations and its pustules fill up with acid fluids, causing the diseased to suffer 1d8 acid damage each time it is struck in melee.

Weevil Cough

Description: Tiny mites that live in hay, wheat and flour stores cause this hacking cough. Spending too much time around infested areas will produce a thick, phlegmy cough, shortness of breath and a distinctive throaty rattle to the voice. Quacks often claim inhaling the vapors of various concoctions, many of them highly addictive, can cure it.

Duration: 3 days.

Effects: Coughing causes the creature to suffer a –2 penalty to Constitution and Charisma. It also has disadvantage on Charisma checks.

Nurglite Sorcerers

Those Champions of Chaos who offer their souls to the Dark Gods in return for the mastery of forbidden lore achieve great power, at a cost. The raw Winds of Magic are often too much for their sanity to bear. Only the strong willed can wield such fearsome magic.

Sorcerers devoted to Nurgle can inflict suffering and affliction at a whim. Clad in decaying Chaos armor and rotten robes, their body host to a hundred ailments, their incantations can cause flesh to blister and skin to slough from muscle. They can enchant worms to infest a victim’s organs, consuming him slowly from within, and can rain down boiling bile from the sky. They also have the power to regenerate injured flesh, scabbing over wounds in mockery of Shallya’s blessings.

Tamurkhan, the Maggot Lord

Tamurkhan, known also as the Maggot Lord, the Son of the Great Kurgan, Master of Hosts, Bringer of Desolation and the Favored of Nurgle, was once one of the greatest Champion of Nurgle in recent history. Numerous legends and lies have clustered about Tamurkhan long before he had gathered his great horde, and in his fulfillment of a prophecy, struck out like a poisoned talon at the wider world beyond the Chaos Wastes. Some tales speak of him to be the millennia old scion of the Great Kurgan, one of four sons, mighty and terrible, who each set out to the four winds to conquer in the service of the four great powers of Chaos.

Others had it that he was no more than a vermin once; a corpse canker grown fat and clever on the spoiled entrails of the battlefield, swelled up and transfigured in the basking light of the Eternal Battle in the uttermost north. In either case he was an arrogant, savage and monstrous warlord, and a true reveler in decay and death, fated as one of Father Nurgle's most favored children for the carnage and suffering he had wreaked in his god's name. As the leader of a decaying warband of fanatical acolytes and twisted monstrosities and riding upon his mighty mount, Bubebolos the Toad Dragon, Tamurkhan carved a bloody path for himself on the road to victory, amassing around him a great host in his master's name.

Vermin Shapechanger. Tamurkhan, as he called himself was not as other warlords and warriors of Chaos, but was subject to a terrible mutation, as truly hideous as it was rare. In mortal form he had been transformed into a befouled, maggot like creature the size of a human child, grey green and rotting, studded with lambently glowing corpse light eyes and a needle like snout that split open to reveal rows upon row of glassy, razor barbed teeth. More awful yet than even his form was the creature's ability to fall upon a human or near human victim and spear into its flesh, bore deep within and devour it from the inside out, inhabiting its dead flesh like a puppet, turning his victim into a stolen second skin in which to do battle. Thus empowered did Tamurkhan prove all but unstoppable, and many mighty foes fell before him. Even if the enemy managed to best him, the true beast would show its face and the temporary victor would become Tamurkhans newly rotting host.

At the outset of Tamurkhan's attempted incursion into the Old World, he wore the flesh of Sargath the Vain, once a powerful Champion of Slaanesh, and took great joy in the slow decay of the warrior's formerly beautiful flesh and the corrosion of his bejeweled armor. This body, which he had worn for nearly a year, failed him however in single combat against the raw strength and brute skill of the Ogre Tyrant Karaka Breakmountain and was cut down, only for Tamurkhan to rise again in the Tyrant's flesh and bone. This perhaps proved his undoing, as never before had Tamurkhan tasted such unrestrained strength and fury, and even though the body continued to rot and sustain grievous injury, he would not abandon it. There were those even in his own camp that maintained that something of the Ogre king's savage spirit remained within it to worry at the Maggot Lord, who seemingly became increasingly dull witted and, crude as the hulking frame rotted around him.

Bubebolos (Mount).

Bubebolos is the great Dragon mount of the legendary Tamurkhan. Toad Dragons are huge, reeking, primeval horrors. They are, for the fate of the world, blessedly few in number, and confined largely to the trackless, otherworldly fens of the Cold Mires under the coruscating skies of the uttermost north. It is here it is said that Tamurkhan, chosen son of Nurgle tracked, and using unspeakably foul rites bound to his will Bubebolos, greatest of all Toad Dragons and carrion thing of Nurgle to be his mount and carry him southward.

Bubebolos

Bubebolos is an impossibly huge creature; a lumbering horror from a forgotten age whole flesh festers with unwholesome rot, and whose black blood is clotted with maggots and carrion worms. The strength of this colossal beast is prodigious, as is its appetite, while its tainted breath is so corrosive it can liquefy flesh and whither steel in moments. Those it does not devour or smash flash it can smother beneath its feculent bulk as it crawls across the earth; its questing tongue darting out with terrifying speed to snatch up more victims to disappear down its yawning maw.

Glotikin Brothers

The Glottkins, titled as the Befouled Brothers of Nurgle, or simply the Glottkin Brothers are a trio of Nurgle Champions who, alongside Gutrot Spume and Orghotts Daemonspew, led the Followers of Nurgle in their horrific Plague War upon the Empire of Man during the apocalyptic age known simply as the End Times. Mutated beyond their mortal forms, the Glottkins rank as the mightiest champions Nurgle has ever chosen, laying a virulent wake of destruction in their paths as they seek to corrupt the very heart of the Empire of Man, and turn its lands into a garden paradise of pus and disease. They combine the darkest sorcery, the most virulent plagues and the most monstrous strength to butcher any opponent that stand against the terrible might of their master Grandfather Nurgle and those of the Dark Gods.

The Glottkin brothers were all born as triplets.

• The first brother, Otto Glott is a formidable warrior and Chaos champion equipped with his father's former farming scythe, and the leader of the Glottkin brothers.
• His second brother, Ethrac Glott is a highly schooled and powerful Sorcerer of Nurgle, radiating with the power and knowledge of Nurgle's many poxes and diseases.
• The third brother, Ghurek Glott is a colossus of mutated muscle and decaying flesh, so large that Ghurek carries his brothers around his back and lay waste to any that seeks to harm them. These three brothers are prophesied to bring about the fall of the Empire, and it is by their hands that shall herald the bringing of both life and death upon the lands of Sigmar's people.

History. The story of the Glottkin began in the Empire, on the coast of the Sea of Claws. The father of the triplets was Olios Glott, a humble Nordland farmer, and their mother was Ethra Greenblood, a magic user schooled in the Lore of Life. After witnessing a bloody Norscan invasion, Olios and Ethra stowed away with the Empire armies that sailed across the Sea of Claws in search of retribution. However, where their comrades wrought bloody vengeance upon their Norscan foes, Olios and Ethra instead brought enlightenment. By teaching the crafts of the farmer and the healer to the savages of Norsca, they hoped not to perpetuate the cycle of violence, but to break it.

Deserting from the Empire's armies under cover of darkness, the two emissaries slowly carved out a new life in the north. Olios raised a humble house for his wife and tilled the stubborn ground around it; Ethra acted as a wise woman, influencing many of the fjord clans. Over the course of the winter, Ethra’s belly swelled to prodigious size; that year her womb nourished not one child, but three. But a jealous Norscan hag cut Ethra’s finger with a rusted knife, and the shallow wound became badly infected. Unable to heal herself from the gangrenous curse that flowed in her blood, the wizard cried out in the night, begging the gods to save her children from the lethal infection.

Father Nurgle was listening, and sent a daemon fly to alight on the pregnant Ethra’s gravid belly. Instantly the infection’s deadly grip lessened, and less than a week later Olios delivered three strong triplets near the rugged cliffs of the Fjordling tribe. Each child bore a three lobed birthmark, the sigil of the Lord of Decay, but their delighted father was ignorant of its significance, never knowing the doom his sons would one day visit upon his former homeland. He named his children Otto, Ethrac and Ghurek, and counted himself among the luckiest of men alive.

The triplets that became known as the Glottkin grew tall and strong in the hardy north, and over time each showed great promise. Ethrac in particular was a quick study, drinking in the local occult lore his mother had mastered. Otto and Ghurek, meanwhile, were more physically inclined, wrestling each other often atop the treacherous fjords and seeking out the youths of the nearby Fjordling tribe to spar with. For a time, all seemed well, and the Glotts brought the arts of the civilized realms to their adopted people. Otto helped his father harvest his crops with a great scythe of his own making, Ethrac aided his mother in rituals of fecundity that coaxed verdant life from the Norscan ice fields. Only Ghurek proved wayward, more interested in brawling and chasing women than helping his family in more wholesome pursuits.

Prophecy of the End Times:

"Brother three shall bring low the Empire of Man. It is they who will muster the plague kissed in their master's name. It is they who will cast the curse of unbound life, a curse that will bring primal disorder to a world of hard won progress. United, the lords of disease shall bring the Old World to the brink of ruin; ruin from within and from without. All things clean and true shall sicken and fade. The Gods of Man shall fade with them, until only death holds the key to salvation...These are the End Times."

Ghurk's Improvised Weaponry.

Ghurk will try to pick up, as a bonus action, everything he can find that is large enough to obliterate his foes:

• While carrying an improvised weapon, he has to make an Athletics check at the start of his turn. On a failure he drops the weapon, unable to manage its heavy weight. On a success he can make an Improvised Weapon attack (+13 to hit, one target).
• Medium/Large/Huge sized objects involve respectively: Athletics DC=15/20/25; damage inflicted=4d8/4d10/4d12; reach=3m/4,5m/6m.
• Objects made of Rock/Metal involve respectively: An increase in the DC by 5/10; An increase in damage by one die/two dice.

Chaos Marauders

Chaos Marauders are tribal warriors hailing from the harsh lands of the North, fighting on behalf of the Gods and their Tribe. They fight alongside the Chaos Warriors, eager to earn the attention of the Dark Gods and join their esteemed ranks. These warriors are barbaric to the extreme, wearing almost nothing but fur garments, crude war-axes and wrought metal shields. Nevertheless, these Marauder's are feared rightfully so for their unnatural savagery and brutality in combat.

Chaos Warriors

Chaos Warriors are evil men that have decided to forsake their former lives and give themselves wholly to Chaos as an instrument of destruction. Sealed within impossibly large Chaos Armor, these men will never more feel the need of hunger, thirst, or the touch of a woman. They fully become weapons dedicated to the Gods of Chaos. They are no longer truly human, but living weapons, honed perfectly for the bloody tasks before them. To be a Chaos Warrior means to literally exchanged your humanity for a life of constant war in the name of the Ruinous Powers and the dark promises of power and immortality they have to offer.

As a result of their transformation, Chaos Warriors occupy a highly prestigious position within both army and tribal societies. To don Chaos Armor means that the man is truly a great warrior amongst his peers. Within tribal societies, the most favored Tribal warriors are often gifted with a suit of hell forged armor as a reward for his service to his chieftain. In army hierarchy, Chaos Armor is often used as a clear sign of status or rank amongst the Northmen. Only the most gifted and powerful warriors are allowed to wear such armor, with the majority of Champions often donning armor of their own.

Chaos Warriors generally congregate around others of their kind, often in warbands consisting entirely of Chaos Warriors who are sent to the thickest fray as powerful elite warriors. When roused to battle, a Chaos Warrior becomes a roaring, unstoppable force. Arrows and bolts patter from his hell forged armor like hailstones upon a glacier as he strides into the enemy ranks. The thrusts of spear and halberd are deflected contemptuously, and the lifeblood of his foes spatters his armor as his jagged blade rises and falls. It is said that for every Chaos Warrior that lays dead in the ground, a circle of his enemies will also lay around him as a sign or testament to their ruthless skills in combat.

Chaos Chosen

Chaos Chosen are those blessed few amongst the ranks of the Chaos Warriors who bear the favor of the Dark Gods far more than their fellows but have not yet become strong enough to take on the mantle of a Chaos Champion. Known amongst their kind as Chosen, these warriors are bestowed with a variety of weapons, armor and gifts as a reward for their faithful service to Chaos. These gifts can vary greatly, but most mutations tend to be useful as weapons that aid the Chosen in his quest to inflict devastation and misery upon his enemies. Even if a Chosen warrior bears no such stigmata, it is clear that he carries the grace of the Dark Gods simply from his aura of dark menace. Amongst the ranks of Chaos Warriors, the Chosen are truly the nobility of Chaos.

Chaos Chosen will always lead by example, fighting not as commanders but as elite warriors. In this way, the Chosen hope to attract yet more of their master’s favor and ascend to the ranks of the truly exalted. They advance unflinchingly through black powder firestorms, hails of arrows and punishing artillery, their purposeful tread never falters as they march ever closer to their prey. Battle lines have buckled and broken at the mere prospect of a warband of Chosen closing in upon them, blades raised so that the methodical butchery of the foe can begin. Few can stand against the full onslaught of a Chaos Warrior, even fewer can stand against the savagery of a single Chaos Chosen in combat.

Chaos Knights

Chaos Knights are towering brutes clad in the thickest plate armor, and whose dreaded reputation is known throughout as one of the world's most feared horsemen. Chaos Knights are feared throughout the Old World and beyond as merciless butchers capable of turning the course of battle with a single thunderous charge. They ride unto battle atop immensely powerful Chaos Steeds, with both rider and mount clad in thick Chaos Armor, each section of armor having been crafted by a Chaos Dwarf master demonsmith. A Chaos Knight’s greaves are jagged blades, well suited for slicing through the flesh of the enemy. Even the frightful reputation of the Chaos Knights is a weapon in its own right, crippling those who would stand against them before a single blow is struck.

Many Chaos Knights ride to war with great lances, cavalry swords, or evil looking polearms designed to impale and tear through enemy armor and flesh in equal measure. Others wield a deadly assortment of weapons, from cleavers and warpicks to heavy maces. Some Chaos Knights even brandish magical blades, each bearing a small measure of power. Regardless of the form or the hexes inscribed upon these magical weapons, they are all enchanted in order to kill, and most flicker with dark fire.

Chaos Knights are a highly egotistical group of warriors. Most if not all consider themselves superior even to other Champions of Chaos. They bow to none save perhaps a Chaos Lord or an exalted Daemon Prince, and even then they will not dip their banner, for their collective pride is the equal of their martial prowess. Each Chaos Knight is a paragon amongst his warrior brethren, for he has trod the path of damnation for many years and now holds the favor of the Dark Gods far more then the common ranks of Chaos Warriors. Few are left unmarked by the stigma of mutation after becoming a Chaos Knight. A Knight’s horned helmet may conceal a twisted and permanent rictus smile of sharp metallic fangs, or a striking and cold beauty that steals the breath away. In battle, a full squadron of Chaos Knights, galloping at full speed, will hit a battle line like the mailed fist of the gods. Few mortal soldiers can truly survive a charge from a Chaos Knight and not be left scarred by the encounter.

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Chaos Knight

Medium humanoid, chaotic evil

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• Armor Class 24 (shield, heavy chaos armor)
• Hit Points 145 (17d8 + 68)
• Speed 9m.

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STR	DEX	CON	INT	WIS	CHA
21(+5)	16(+3)	18(+4)	8(-1)	14(+2)	18(+4)

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• Saving Throws Str +9, Con +8, Wis +6, Cha +8
• Skills Animal Handling +8, Athletics +9
• Damage Resistances bludgeoning, piercing and slashing from nonmagical weapons, fire
• Condition Immunities frightened
• Senses passive Perception 12
• Languages Common
• Challenge 10 (5900 XP)

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Favor of the Dark Gods (3/day). This warrior can re-roll an attack, ability check, or saving throw. It can also spend one use to force an enemy to re-roll one attack against it.

Mark of Chaos. This warrior bears on its skin the blessing of the Ruinous Powers. It scores critical hits on a roll of 19 and 20 and it has advantage on saving throws.

Mighty Charger. If the knight moves, while riding, at least 9m toward a target and then hits it on the same turn, the target takes an extra 10 (3d6) piercing damage. If the target is a creature, it must succeed on a DC 15 Strength saving throw or be pushed up to 3m and knocked prone.

Actions

Multiattack. The chaos knight makes two attacks with its demon-lance.

Demon-Lance. Melee Weapon Attack: +9 to hit, reach 3m, one target. Hit: 15 (3d6 + 5) piercing damage plus 11 (2d10) fire damage.

Forsaken

The Forsaken are those Chosen of the Dark Gods that have been too powerful to devolve into mere Chaos Spawn, and yet too weak to bear the brunt of their mutations and find their minds breaking under the weight. Many aspiring Champions and powerful Chaos Lords, no less valiant in the service of the Dark Gods than their brethren, find that the rewards of the gods turn out to be more a hindrance than a blessing. Forsaken by the Gods, now, they fight only out of a dark, unnatural hunger and madness.

The Forsaken come in all manners of shapes and forms, but all are invariably howling maniacs that rush to get into grips with the enemy, their mutated limbs flailing and overgrown jaws snapping like those of wild wolves. Though once proud and mighty Champions of Chaos, the severity of the mutations bestowed upon them have twisted them into something less than human yet more then a mere Chaos Spawn. These unfortunates have been literally forsaken by their gods, reduced to the levels of mere animals who growl and snarl in a guttural parody of human speech.

These warriors have lost the capacity for rational thought, with most setting aside their proud axes in favor of mutated claw or jagged tendrils. But there are those who still grasp ancient weapons in their warped fists, these weapons are likely to have been blessed by the power of Chaos, or even demon-weapons in their own right, marking the Forsaken warrior as a great Champion in his former life. The mutations wracking the Forsaken's frame are varied, but always extensive. Chitinous claws, writhing tentacles, extra heads or even great, hairy grasping arms pushing out from cracks within the shattered remnants of their once proud Chaos plate. Having lost much of their former personality, a Forsaken is always a single step away from devolving completely into a mindless Chaos Spawn.

Though they seem benighted abominations to those inhabitants of the South, the brutish tribesmen of Norsca and beyond make little distinction between the Forsaken and others marked with the favor of the Chaos Gods. For the most part, they are content to leave their brethren to their solitary existence, honoring them and summoning them in times of war with offerings of blood and bone. Whatever their mental state, the Forsaken still retain their strength as champions of Chaos, and in many cases have grown even more lethal as a result of their mutations.

Gorebeast Chariots

A Gorebeast Chariot is a massive construction of hell forged metal, mutant beast and jagged blade, ridden to war by some of the most powerful and bloodthirsty warriors in the world. Its sole purpose is to deliver an unstoppable force to a weak point in the enemy battle line, smashing apart those before it and scattering the rest in panic and disarray. Few foes can muster the courage required to stand before the rumbling charge of one of these murderous war machines, and those foolish enough to do so are torn apart by monstrous jaws, cut to pieces by keen edged halberds, or crushed into the dirt beneath heavy, iron shod wheels. Gorebeast Chariots are even heavier and sturdier than other Chaos Chariots. No normal beast would have the strength to pull such a massive instrument of war, and they are therefore pulled into battle by a Gorebeast, a muscular creature renowned for its violent temperament. These grunting brutes strike their prey with such shocking force that those not impaled upon jutting arm our spikes are torn apart by the impact. Even the lowliest of beasts recognise the bulky shape of a Gorebeast as synonymous with death.

Chaos Spawns

A Chaos Spawn is a term used to describe a whole spectrum of mutated creatures warped into being by the corrupting influence of Magic and Chaos corruption. Once the first mutation takes hold, the creature that was once a man now faces the inevitable dissolution of his mind and will, becoming something less than yet more than mortal. The fate that awaits nearly all surviving mutants is to become a Chaos Spawn, a gibbering abomination existing only to serve the whims of its infernal masters.

Some manage to stave off this doom for a time, committing great and terrible deeds to gather the Rewards and Gifts of Chaos. But, for most, the fate of becoming a Chaos Spawn lies at the end of their dark and horrible road. The fate of a Spawn is to die, either on the field of battle by axe or sword, torn apart in the wilds by even more savage creatures, or literally ripped asunder by the Chaos energy that continues to course through its twisted body.

Overview. In appearance, these creatures vary widely. Some appear as the man who walks as a beast; a once humanoid form that has sprouted and burst into an obscene and monstrous anatomy, mutated almost beyond recognition. The eyes of the original creature peer out, a glint of its former personality barely perceptible amidst the fleshy ruin. Others appear more as the beast who walks as a man; a twisted parody of humanity moulded from the hairy, lumpen body of a forest creature.

Regardless of particulars, Chaos Spawn are creatures of unspeakable horror, their twisted bodies sporting an impossible array of spines, eyes and mouths. Some have the heads of overgrown insects, while others have skin that exudes poisonous slime. Some, due perhaps to the locations in which they lair, appear to be a part of the forest itself, their constantly mutating bodies having been joined with the rotten limbs of dead trees, their skin covered in dank moss.

Transformation. Although most Mutants are doomed to become Chaos Spawn, few survive long enough to experience the transformation. With the possibility of accidents, bad circumstances, burning on a Witch Hunter’s pyre, or succumbing to injury in one of the countless battles that rage all over the Chaos Wastes, the Mutant is more likely to find death instead. However, some exceptional Mutants, those who know when to run, may discover the glorious evolution that awaits them, to find the enveloping embrace that is Chaos, and become a Spawn of Chaos.

Regardless of the cause, the effect is the same. The body collapses under the unbearable weight of corruption and is infused with the raw power of Chaos, forcing all manner of strange and disturbing transformations. Chaos Spawn lose what little remained of their original forms, becoming a shifting mass of tentacles and eyes. A rare few retain just enough of their original forms to become truly horrific. Upon the moment of devolution, the subject is wracked with agonizing pains as his body ripples and undulates. The pain is so great it destroys the mind, erasing nearly every memory, all emotion, and the capability of forming a coherent thought, leaving behind an unreasoning husk of flesh and sinew.

Warfare. When the Forces of Chaos goes to battle, the Chaos Spawn come shambling from their lairs. The Forces of Chaos have no control over a Spawn's actions, and it will behave in a largely unpredictable manner. The Spawn will move towards the enemy and crash flailing into his ranks; teeth, claws, and tentacles tearing men limb from limb in a shower of blood and ruination. Mindless and utterly beyond reason, Chaos spawn relentlessly attack anything in their way, the blows of their enemies merely a strange relief to the endless insanity that is their miserable existence

Types of Chaos Spawn

Aside from the more common spawn of Chaos Undivided, some may exhibit the traits of a particular god in the form of his Mark:

• Bloodbeasts of Khorne. The Bloodbeast is a type of Chaos Spawn that has inherited the characteristics of its patron god. Like all aspects of Khorne, the Bloodbeast is a battle maddened creature that lives only to take lives and harvest skulls in the name of the Blood God.
• Plaguebeast of Nurgle. A seething mass of boils, lashing limbs, and diseased mouths, the Plaguebeast of Nurgle is a Chaos Spawn devoted to the Lord of Decay.
• Fiend of Slaanesh. Sinuous and twisted, the Fiends are the Chaos Spawn of the Dark Prince. Their long, scaly bodies move with deceptive speed, often surprising opponents before they have time to react.
• Firewyrm of Tzeentch. Perhaps the most perfect example of the gifts granted by the Lord of Change, the Firewyrm is a personification of its god. Its body is an ever changing mass of pseudopods, tentacles and clawed limbs that spew multicolored flames, sowing mutation in their wake.

Chaos Warhounds

Chaos Warhounds, also known as Warhounds of Chaos are large, horrific creatures that were mutated by the powers of Chaos and now stalk the dark lands of the Old World in search of prey. They often stalk around encampments searching for scraps and lone creatures to attack. Their red, evil glinting eyes peer from the treeline, and saliva pools upon the litter strewn ground as they taste the air for the scent of their next victim. Many a lone patrolman traveling in the woods at night has shivered at the sound of baleful howling in the distance, only to be confronted by the low growling of the pack that has crept up behind him whilst he was distracted.

These creatures also present in Norsca along with wolves and hounds they prowl in the flickering shadows of the campfires made by the barbarian tribespeople of the frozen lands. The further north the tribe dwells, the more likely it is that the hounds that follow them will be hideous mutants, their bodies swollen by the energies of Chaos. Brutish and bloodthirsty, the Warhounds of Chaos are natural killers built of muscle and fang that prowl the wilderness in ravening packs. They will even charge a spearwall with total abandon, their only concern the moment when their slobbering jaws sink into juicy, yielding flesh.

Regardless of form, Warhounds are all vicious killers and their harsh baying is a sure warning of a slaughter to come. They bound across the battlefield at an alarming speed, so that a Handgunner will have scant moments to take his shot and no hope of reloading before powerful claws rake him to the ground and knife like fangs close around his throat.

Dragon Ogre

Large giant, chaotic evil

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• Armor Class 16 (natural armor, iron plates)
• Hit Points 179 (17d10 + 85)
• Speed 12m.

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STR	DEX	CON	INT	WIS	CHA
22(+6)	12(+1)	21(+5)	6(-2)	16(+3)	8(-1)

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• Saving Throws Str +10, Con +9
• Skills Athletics +10, Perception +7
• Damage Immunities lightning, thunder
• Condition Immunities frightened
• Senses passive Perception 17
• Languages Giant
• Challenge 11 (7200 XP)

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Mighty Charger. If the dragon ogre moves at least 9m toward a target and then hits it on the same turn, the target takes an extra 10 (3d6) bludgeoning damage. If the target is a creature, it must succeed on a DC 16 Strength saving throw or be pushed up to 3m and knocked prone.

Storm Absorption. Whenever the dragon ogre is subjected to lightning or thunder damage, it takes no damage and instead regains a number of hit points equal to the damage dealt.

Herald of the Storm. The dragon ogre's spellcasting ability is Strength (spell save DC 18, +10 to hit with spell attacks). The dragon ogre can innately cast the following spells, requiring no material components:

• At will: call lightning, storm sphere
• 1/day each: chain lightning, control weather

Actions

Multiattack. The dragon ogre makes three attacks: two with its storm-maul and one with its tail. It can't make both attacks against the same target.

Storm-Maul. Melee Weapon Attack: +11 to hit, reach 3m, one target. Hit: 17 (3d6 + 7) bludgeoning damage plus 11 (2d10) lightning damage.

Tail. Melee Weapon Attack: +10 to hit, reach 3m, one target. Hit: 15 (2d8 + 6) bludgeoning damage plus 3 (1d6) lightning damage.

Shaggoth

Huge giant, chaotic evil

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• Armor Class 18 (natural armor, steel plates)
• Hit Points 250 (20d12 + 120)
• Speed 12m.

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STR	DEX	CON	INT	WIS	CHA
26(+8)	10(+0)	22(+6)	6(-2)	18(+4)	8(-1)

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• Saving Throws Str +13, Con +11
• Skills Athletics +13, Perception +9
• Damage Immunities lightning, thunder
• Condition Immunities frightened
• Senses passive Perception 19
• Languages Giant
• Challenge 15 (13000 XP)

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Mighty Charger. If the shaggoth moves at least 9m toward a target and then hits it on the same turn, the target takes an extra 14 (4d6) slashing damage. If the target is a creature, it must succeed on a DC 18 Strength saving throw or be pushed up to 6m and knocked prone.

Storm Absorption. Whenever the shaggoth is subjected to lightning or thunder damage, it takes no damage and instead regains a number of hit points equal to the damage dealt.

Thunderous Rebuke. When a creature within 1,5m of the shaggoth hits it with an attack, the dragon ogre can use its reaction to cause the creature to make a Dexterity saving throw. The creature takes 2d10 lightning or thunder damage on a failed save, or half as much damage on a successful one.

Herald of the Storm. The shaggoth's spellcasting ability is Strength (spell save DC 21, +13 to hit with spell attacks). The dragon ogre can innately cast the following spells, requiring no material components:

• At will (all at 4th level): call lightning, storm sphere, thunderwave
• 3/day each: chain lightning, control weather

Actions

Multiattack. The shaggoth makes four attacks: one with its claw, two with its storm-greataxe and one with its tail. It can't make the tail attack against the same target as the others.

Claw. Melee Weapon Attack: +13 to hit, reach 1,5m, one target. Hit: 17 (2d8 + 8) slashing damage. If the target is a creature, it is grappled (escape DC 18). Until this grapple ends, the target is prone and restrained.

Storm-Greataxe. Melee Weapon Attack: +14 to hit, reach 3m, one target. Hit: 23 (4d6 + 9) slashing damage plus 11 (2d10) lightning damage.

Tail. Melee Weapon Attack: +13 to hit, reach 4,5m, one target. Hit: 21 (3d8 + 8) bludgeoning damage plus 4 (1d8) lightning damage.

Kholek Suneater

Kholek Suneater, Herald of the Tempest, is among the oldest of Dragon Ogres, sired by none other than Krakanrok the Black eons past.

Overview. Every eight generations, when the malevolent moon Morrslieb waxes full in front of its benign cousin Mannslieb, a terrible storm rages through the crevasses and chasms of the Worlds Edge Mountains. Jagged ridges are silhouetted like the broken teeth of some titanic beast as lightning flashes and thunder roars. Before a great chasm that splits the mountains like a gigantic axe wound, hundreds upon hundreds of Northmen kneel in the pelting hail and snow, chanting sonorously as their captives are sacrificed and hurled bodily into a cavernous lair. Then, as the storm reaches its terrible climax, a terror from the prehistory of the world bursts forth with a roar that shakes the roots of the peaks themselves; Kholek Suneater awakes, and all the world trembles at his wrath.

The Sun's Curse Kholek is a Shaggoth of tremendous age. He is one of the first born kin of Krakanrok the Black, father of the Dragon Ogres. Kholek was present when the terrible pact with the Dark Gods was forged, pledging their race to an eternity of servitude in exchange for immortality. The sagas tell that Kholek’s part in the bargain was such an affront to nature that the sun hid its face behind a bank of stormclouds and has never looked upon Kholek since that fateful day. True enough, Kholek’s coming is heralded by roiling black thunderheads. Where the Herald of the Tempest walks, a raging storm blots out the sun.

Like all Dragon Ogres, Kholek is energized and enlivened by the power of lightning, roaring with triumph as crackling bolts of pure power play across his ancient and scaly body. He wears great plates of brass as his armor, the better to attract the tempest’s kiss, encrusted with the patina of age and blackened by soot. In his shadow march the mountain tribes that worship him as a primal god of destruction.

Kholek Suneater was last seen by mortal eyes during Asavar Kul’s great invasion, striding south with his armies under the cover of a ferocious blizzard. The histories of that time describe a raging storm beast tall enough to look over the ramparts of Praag, a god of winter who smashed his way into the city with pure brute force. The sagas tell of how the monstrosity stalked the Old Quarter of the city, demolishing each and every temple within the city walls before returning to his glacial realm. If the rumors from the north are true, Kholek is abroad once more. Whenever the sky darkens with cloud and thunder rumbles on the horizon, all who know of the legend of the Suneater shiver in fear, for how can mortals stand against a being who has waged war in the name of the Dark Gods since before the dawn of Man?

Kholek Suneater

Gargantuan giant, chaotic evil

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• Armor Class 18 (natural armor, brass plates)
• Hit Points 403 (23d20 + 161)
• Speed 15m.

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STR	DEX	CON	INT	WIS	CHA
34(+12)	10(+0)	25(+7)	10(+0)	20(+5)	18(+4)

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• Saving Throws Str +18, Con +13, Wis +11
• Skills Athletics +18, Insight +11, Perception +11
• Damage Immunities lightning, thunder
• Condition Immunities frightened
• Senses passive Perception 21
• Languages Giant
• Challenge 24 (62000 XP)

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Legendary Resistance (3/day). If Kholek fails a saving throw, he can choose to succeed instead.

Mighty Charger. If Kholek moves at least 9m toward a target and then hits it on the same turn, the target takes an extra 21 (6d6) bludgeoning damage. If the target is a creature, it must succeed on a DC 22 Strength saving throw or be pushed up to 9m and knocked prone.

Storm Absorption. Whenever Kholek is subjected to lightning or thunder damage, he takes no damage and instead regains a number of hit points equal to the damage dealt.

Thunderous Rebuke. When a creature within 3m of Kholek hits him with an attack, he can use his reaction to cause the creature to make a Dexterity saving throw. The creature takes 2d12 lightning or thunder damage on a failed save, or half as much damage on a successful one.

Herald of the Storm. Kholek's spellcasting ability is Strength (spell save DC 26, +18 to hit with spell attacks). Kholek can innately cast the following spells, requiring no material components:

• At will (all at 6th level): call lightning, storm sphere, thunderwave
• 5/day each: chain lightning, destructive wave

Actions

Multiattack. Kholek makes four attacks: three with Starcrusher and one with his tail. He can't make both attacks against the same target.

Starcrusher. Melee Weapon Attack: +21 to hit, reach 4,5m, one target. Hit: 36 (6d6 + 15) bludgeoning damage plus 11 (2d10) lightning damage.

Tail. Melee Weapon Attack: +18 to hit, reach 6m, one target. Hit: 30 (4d8 + 12) bludgeoning damage plus 5 (1d10) lightning damage.

Lightning Storm. Kholek magically creates three bolts of lightning, each of which can strike a target he can see within 36m of him. A target must make a DC 26 Dexterity saving throw, taking 22 (4d10) lightning damage on a failed save, or half as much damage on a successful one.

Legendary Actions

Kholek can take 3 legendary actions, choosing from the options below. Only one legendary action option can be used at a time and only at the end of another creature's turn. Kholek regains spent legendary actions at the start of his turn.

Invocation of the Storm. Kholek casts or uses a spell.

Earthquake (Costs 2 Actions). Kholek repeatedly smashes Starcrusher on the ground casting Earthquake in a 12m radius around himself.

Lightning Storm (Costs 2 Actions). Kholek uses Lightning Storm.

Hellcannon

Large object

• Armor Class: 20 (demon plates)
• Hit Points: 150
• Damage Immunities: chaotic, poison, psychic

An Hellcannon is a massive smoking construct of metal that growls and shakes with daemonic sentience. In battle, these arcane engines heave crackling blasts of raw energy that soar through the air into their targets, liquifying anything they touch and sending the survivors insane with fear. Hellcannons are guided by a team of corrupt and sadistic Chaos Dwarfs. These malign warsmiths escort and restrain the Hellcannons in battle, for the Daemons bound within hunger for a banquet of flesh.

Such is the Hellcannon’s bloodlust that it must be chained to the ground to stop it rampaging towards enemy lines. Even these precautions often prove inadequate, as there is little that can stay a Hellcannon’s lust for destruction. The Chaos Dwarfs load their charge by brutally shoveling the bodies of their enemies into the Hellcannon’s dire furnace. Flesh runs like wax as the Daemon machine’s hearth feasts on body and bone. Soon, only the souls of its victims are left, harnessed in the Hellcannon’s gullet as crackling bolts of energy that are fired towards the enemy in powerful spasms of malice.

Demon Blast. Ranged Weapon Attack: +6 to hit, range 180/720m, one target. Hit: 55 (10d10) chaotic damage and all creatures within a 6m radius sphere centered on the target must make a DC 15 Dexterity saving throw, taking 36 (8d8) chaotic damage on a failed save, or half as much damage on a successful one.

Bite. Melee Weapon Attack: +8 to hit, reach 1,5m, one target. Hit: 10 (1d12 + 4) piercing damage plus 9 (2d8) chaotic damage. If the target is a creature, it is grappled (escape DC 14) . Until this grapple ends, the target is restrained, and the hellcannon can't bite another target.

Swallow. The hellcannon makes one bite attack against a medium or smaller creature it is grappling. If the attack hits, the target takes the bite's damage, the target is swallowed, and the grapple ends. While swallowed, the creature is blinded and restrained, it has total cover against attacks and other effects outside the hellcannon, and it takes 35 (10d6) chaotic damage at the start of each of the hellcannon's turns. If the cannon takes 25 damage or more on a single turn from a creature inside it at the end of that turn it regurgitates all swallowed creatures, which fall prone in a space within 3m of the hellcannon. If the cannon is destroyed, a swallowed creature is no longer restrained by it and can escape from the debris by using 3m of movement, exiting prone. If a creature is killed while inside the hellcannon its soul is consumed, causing the machines to regain 25 hit points.

Reinholt Schent, Scholar of the Fantastic:

"It’s whispered amongst the Northern tribes that somewhere in the icy peaks, there are Dragons, but not the ones of legend. These are the mutant spawn of Galrauch, the ancient Dragon who was corrupted by Tzeentch. The Chaos Dragons are thankfully rare and content to spend the eons buried in their lairs, brimming with hatred and plotting the destruction of all that lives. But when the Dark Gods call, not even these monsters can resist the urge to wage war for the Ruinous Powers. But they are fickle creatures, quick to turn on their allies should it give them the advantage."

Chaos Sorcerers

The Sorcerers of Chaos are powerful spellcasters who use the raw Winds of Magic to cast spells. Masters of Dark Magic, there is little beyond their might. They can transport themselves over vast distances, call upon the fires of Tzeentch, slaughter men by the scores, and more. But such magic comes at a terrible price. As they tap the energies of Chaos, their sanity withers whilst their bodies twist and mutate with the invoked energies.

Chaos Sorcerers may be found amongst the savage tribes of the north, serving as oracles and counselors, but many also come from the lands of the Empire and beyond. These individuals, finding the limitations on magic within the Colleges too restrictive, and lured by the power to be held by dabbling in Demonology, drift north to bring themselves closer to the source of their magic, learning through trial and error.

What separates Chaos Sorcerers from other spellcasters, namely the Magisters of the Empire, Witches, and Warlocks, is that these individuals derive their power directly from their Gods. So, only servants of Nurgle, Slaanesh, and Tzeentch may become Chaos Sorcerers, since Khorne abhors magic.

Archaon the Everchosen

Archaon is the Everchosen, the Three Eyed King, the Lord of the End Times and the self proclaimed supreme champion of the four Gods of Chaos who was sent to command the last, and greatest Chaos Invasion during the apocalyptic age known simply as the End Times. Out of all the Everchosen of Chaos who have assailed the world over the ages, Archaon is by far the most ruthless and perhaps the most powerful. He is an individual that shall decide the fate of entire nations, whose sword can lay waste to heroes and armies and whose unbreakable will can break and dominate those of Gods. Archaon is truly the Herald of the Apocalypse, blessed with dreadful artifacts of ancient evil, each one bestowed as a reward for accomplishing impossible trials. In his journey, he received the legendary Six Treasures of Chaos:

• The Mark of Chaos: This shows the bearer to be the chosen of all four Chaos Gods. Bestows the Champion with the powers of all Four Chaos Gods.
• The Armour of Morkar: Extremely resilient and dark black, this armor was worn by the first Everchosen of Chaos, the greatest warrior of his time. Only the legendary Sigmar had been able to defeat him.
• The Eye of Sheerian: When mounted in the Crown of Domination, the Eye grants the bearer potent powers of prophecy and omniscience, allowing Archaon to predict the future itself. It was taken from the hoard of a massive Chaos Dragon known infamously as Flamefang.
• Dorghar, Steed of the Apocalypse: A massive, demonic horse, Dorghar was claimed at the Gates of Chaos, stolen from the palace of the Daemon Lord Agrammon. Larger than any warhorse in existence, this dreadful creature is in itself a mount worthy of a demigod.
• The Slayer of Kings: A huge blade with the raging soul of a captive greater daemon, U'zhul, bound inside it. Archaon took it from the hands of the Father of the Dragon Ogres, giving Archaon a weapon that has drunk the blood of Kings for aeons.
• The Crown of Domination: A symbol of absolute authority from all the forces of Chaos. Found in the First Shrine to Chaos at the Worlds Edge Mountains. Archaon learned of its location from Be'lakor. Archaon fought a Bloodthirster (Greater Daemon of Khorne) single handedly to obtain it. Upon retrieving the Crown, the daemon prince Be'lakor performed the coronation that made Archaon the Lord of the End Times. As the crown was fully placed, the last spark of Archaon's humanity was finally extinguished, finally accepting the Gods of Chaos to be the true Gods of the Cosmos. With his quest finally complete, Archaon now set forth upon the World as the Herald of the Apocalypse. In the climax of the End Times, Archaon had battled the God King Sigmar and brought about the final end of the Warhammer World.

Unification of the Tribes. Within a short time, he had succeeded in bringing every last tribe, clan or warrior band that had ever vied for control of the tainted Northlands under his iron fisted rule. Bloodthirsty Aeslings and barbaric Baersonlings, wily Skaelings and seafaring Sarls, twisted Vargs, savage Graelings and berserker Bjornlings and a thousand other hard hearted Norse tribes aside, all did answer the Everchosen's call. The heroes of the North flocked to Archaon's banner; High Jarl Egil Styrbjorn, Wulfrik the Wanderer, Valnir the Reaper, Sigvald the Magnificent, and countless other heroes who thirsted for the chance to prove themselves in the Final Battle before the Dark Gods.

Invasion of Kislev. With the coming of late autumn, the Norscan tribes charged down from the north upon the realm of Kislev, the 1000th year of the nation's storied history by the Gospodarin calendar. This was to be its last. The city of Praag fell swiftly to the howling fury of the horde, while Erengrad fared only slightly better, barely holding out against Archaon's armies before falling swiftly to midnight reavers in wolfships that unloaded lethal cargoes of insane Chaos Warriors and berserkers. The Chaos Hordes burned the city's western seaport to the ground before putting all its inhabitants to the sword. The city of Kislev; that legendary bastion which shared its named with the mighty land, was taken by storm in a single night of terrifying bloodshed; its proud walls reduced to rubble, thick with screaming forests of impaled men, women and children.

Siege of Middenheim. The slaughter began as battle was joined at the walls of Middenheim. To be a man of the North at that time was to walk in the wake of legend itself: Egil Styrbjorn, Ragnar Painbringer, Sven Bloody Hand, Engra Deathsword, Wulfrik the Wanderer, Valkia the Bloody, Sigvald the Magnificent, Scyla Anfingrimm, Valnir the Reaper and a thousand other legendary names of dark renown and terror thundered across the field, leading their tribesmen across a bloody field to face the cowardly Middenlanders who perched atop their mountain fastness dreading the wrath of the Northmen. Warhirds of savage Aeslings charged up the ramparts, driving their bloody axes into the flesh of their enemies while roaring bestial praises to the Lord of Blood.

Lileath, Goddess of Prophecy:

"So soon the hour fate comes around. The Everchosen stirs from his dark throne and prepares the blow that shall split the world asunder. Realms of old have fallen, lost beneath the fury of the northlands, or smothered by vermin from below. Some heroes battle on, too stubborn to realize all hope is lost. Their time is past, and a new age of Chaos and dismay beckons. Perhaps I am foolish also, for I fight with no hope of victory. I seek only to weaken the Dark Gods, to shake their hold upon the future. No other course remains; not to mortals, nor the Divine."

From the blood and broken corpse rose the mightiest of Khorne's Bloodthirsters; Ka'Bandha, Lord of the Third Host, who pledged his service to Archaon for it was the murderous will of the Bloodfather. With the aid of the Bloodthirster, Archaon gathered the most brutal Norscans into a terrifying army dubbed the Berserker Onslaught, commanded by himself and two of the most favoured Khornate champions of Norse blood: Valkia the Bloody and Scyla Anfingrimm. The three Norsemen led the horde southwards upon Averheim, intent on breaking the last vestige of Imperial resistance.

The World's Ending.

"And so the mortal world fell away into oblivion. The gnawing rift at the heart of Mankind's domain devoured reality. Slowly it spread at first, but then with the hunger of ravening wildfires. Invigorated, the polar rifts slipped their ancient bounds and joined their younger sibling in its feast. The peoples of the World beheld their doom, and screamed in despair. No two watchers beheld the same vision. Some saw skies riven with fire, some looked upon an ice cold maelstrom of stars, some saw colossal tentacles and fanged maws that drooled the molten stuff of Chaos. Perhaps the Chaos Gods raised their champions to demonhood from the battles that raged amongst the flames. It matters little, for the truth of those hopeless wars are lost. The Oak of Ages was swallowed last of all. Mournful dryad songs echoed under livid skies as Athel Loren perished. With its destruction, the Weave that bound the time and space together thinned and stretched. Twisted by unnatural energies, it dissolved entirely into nothingness. That terrible act of uncreation might have taken the blink of an eye, or unfold across millenia. The Dark Gods were not fettered by the flow of time, and let it pass unmarked. Already tired of their victory, they turned away from the ruin they have wrought and began the Great Game anew in other worlds and other creations. In doing so, they paid no heed to the tiny speck of light tumbling in the infinite darkness; the glowing essence of what had once been a man. Through the storm of nothingness he fell, adrift for aeons upon unseed tides. Then came a glimmering orb, a fiery world heart grown cold as the abyss. Desperate, the figure seized upon the sphere with a grip that could shatter mountains. He stared into the void, and from the darkness, the void stared back. The figure clung tight, marshalling his faded strength. He reached forth his hand, and a miracle took shape......These were truly the End Times"