Chaos Spawn

Every Chaos Spawn was once something greater, a proud warrior, an ambitious sorcerer, or a hapless thrall who drew too deeply upon the powers of the warp or displeased the fickle god they served. For the Thousand Sons, so intimately entangled with the changing energies of Tzeentch and haunted by the ever-present flesh-change, the descent into Spawnhood is a peculiarly familiar dread.

When the mutation takes hold beyond any hope of control, the victim's body erupts into a chaos of ever-shifting flesh, sprouting limbs, maws and organs at random until nothing of the original form or mind remains. What is left is a shambling horror driven only by instinct and a ceaseless urge to lash out at all around it.

The Legion makes grim use of these ruined things, herding them toward the enemy to serve as expendable shock-beasts. A Chaos Spawn feels no fear and no pain, and it strikes with unpredictable and terrible violence, its ever-changing body a whirl of claws and gnashing teeth. Yet to the sorcerers who unleash them, the Spawn are also a warning made flesh, a glimpse of the fate that awaits any who overreach in their pursuit of power. In a Legion that gambles constantly with the warp, the Chaos Spawn is the losing hand made manifest.