Kurgan

"You may call us heathens, savages or even brutes, but we are closest to the gods. We see their work in all things. And we do not create new, seemly gods to conform with our hopes for the world."

- Alakreiz, Kurgan Marauder

Kurgan is a term used to describe a race of brutal Chaos-worshiping men who dwell in the fell North, in the vast Eastern Steppes that border the Chaos Wastes. The very term is derived from the burial mounds raised by the the Scythian horse-warriors of old, from whom both the Kurgan and the Kislevites descend, and the Kurgan have thus come to be known by the name by, it is said, their desire to bury the peoples of the south under similar hills. A hardy race of brutal warriors, the Kurgan people their vast empty quarters, bereft of all marks of civilization, leading a grim nomadic existence punctuated by merciless inter-tribal warfare. The Kurgan are renowned throughout the world as some of the greatest and most proficient horsemen ever to ride, favouring short, squat ponies adapted for survival among the cold steppes where the larger warhorses of the south would be hard pressed to survive. Though their domains lie far from the borders of the Empire, such is the fleetness of their steeds and their lust for battle that none can be sure where next their savage assault will fall. The horsemen of the Chaos Wastes know neither fear nor mercy, and slaughter all whom they find with unremitting brutality, piling high towers of skulls in the manner of the Norscans to stand as testament to their victory. Yet the Kurgan are also a deeply spiritual people, who worship countless spirits and daemonic gods, each of whom are but an aspect of the Dark Gods, whom the Kurgan perceive as forces of the natural world, who keep the earth and all who dwell within it in a constant state of growth and becoming.

The Kurgan are divided into countless clans and tribes, the most northerly of which who are generally the fiercest and most barbaric of all. Indeed, the Kurgan are by the far the most numerous of all the accursed peoples of Chaos, with numbers far outstripping those of even the bloodthirsty Norscans, the mysterious Dorstan, or the treacherous Hung. Raised in unforgiving climes, the Kurgan are immersed into violence from an early age. They recognize no concepts of nationality, borders or allegiance. Indeed, such things are alien to them. To them, the only law is that of might and power, the will to take and hold. Thus, they are a race of skilled warriors, who rule their bleak dominion with the axe and bow. After all, they must fight from birth to survive.

When the shadow of Chaos expands over the world and the races of Northmen hear the clarion of battle, it is at such times that the Kurgan are most benefited by their rootless existence, for as a nomadic people, they are, alone amongst the men of the north, able to bring each and every last member of their race to bear in these dark crusades. Such is not motivated only by their sense of devotion to the Dark Gods they worship, but also because to attach themselves to a great horde imparts numerous advantages, for they are able to ride ahead of their Norse and Hung brethren as scouts and thus take for themselves the easiest of the plunder. No true loyalty do the Kurgan harbour, for when the horde is inevitably reversed or gainstayed, it is observed that the horsemen are just as quick to break off from the army and settle the lands they have conquered, glutting themselves fat on stolen plenty before riding back to the steppes, thus escaping the forces of retribution that march against them. Never will the horsemen, for all their great personal strength and martial might, engage their enemies on equal terms, but will rather turn tail when met by men of mettle, only to lead them into a trap and cut them down with abandon before turning their bows and blades upon the cowering innocents those fallen warriors strove to protect.

The Barbarians of the East
"It is better to take your own life than to fall into the hands of the Kurgan."

- Karl Althaus, Imperial Pikeman

With swarthy complexions, dark tanned skin almost brown and dark eyes ever-so-slightly slanted, the Kurgan truly appear a race apart from other Old Worlders, though they do resemble to a certain extent, the Gospodar and Ungol tribes of Kislev, who descend from them. They are massive men, though not quite as tall as strong as the Norscans to their West, the Kurgan nonetheless tower over all other races, standing a full head over any man of the Empire. Naturally muscular and powerfully built, they move with an easy grace. Even their women are strongly built, with the same severe miens as the men. Kurgan males tend to keep their black beards and hair long, further emphasizing their savage appearance, and dress in armour of animal hide and bone. Metal is a rare commodity amongst them, and so only the finest and most distinguished warriors and considered worthy enough to don metal armour, though this predicament varies amongst the tribes. Certain clans of Dolgans, for instance, are noted for their suits of bronze armour. They are noted for equal familiarity in the saddle as well as on foot, though Kurgan marauders will almost invariably go into battle on horseback, if they can help it.

The Kurgan are some of the most skillful archers to walk the world, their composite bows letting heavy arrows fly with such force that no bascinet, cuirass or mail can protect against. The Kurgan let fly their arrows with such rapidity as to evoke some mechanical marvel of the College of Engineers, their skill at ranged combat marking them as unique from the other races of the North, such as the Norse, who see the bow as the ultimate emblem of cowardice. Their ponies, smart and hard-trained, do not need rein control, which further affords the Kurgan warriors great independence, as it allows them to fire even while turning in the saddle. This combination of mobility and great offensive power causes the Kurgans to be masters of the battlefield, easily a match for the heavy, ponderous knights of the southlands. The preferred melee weapon of the Kurgan hordes is the Pallasz: A double-edged broadsword six feet in length, often drawn for combat on foot, as the Kurgan have no need for melee weapons while in the saddle. Other weapons more iconic of the Chaos Hordes, such as brutal axes and maces so favoured by the Norscans, are too utilized by the Kurgans, as the two peoples have had their contacts over the millennia. Indeed, these races, both so savage and proficient in warcraft, have much in common, and it is not uncommon to see Kurgan tribesmen fighting alongside Norscans when the Shadow of the North waxes, and most instances where Kurgan have raided the Empire have been while allied to a larger Norsemen warband. Some Kurgan tribes are even bound to Norse ones through marriage or blood oath, though this is rare.

The Kurgans follow age old migration routes throughout their barren grasslands, leading into lands they dwell in seasonally. Other tribes simply plot their courses based on their seers' interpretation of the myriad signs of the Dark Gods. Other tribes adopt a more settled lifestyle, establishing primitive villages at appropriate sites, coaxing what wealth they can from the earth. Kurgan tribes commonly travel with large caravans pulled by their fleet steppe ponies, or in some rare cases, creatures molded by Chaos who are all together less savory.

The Kurgan tribes are led by chieftains known as Zars, perhaps in imitation of the Tzars of Kislev, once again illustrating the similarities between the great northern Steppes and the realm of the Ice Queen. These chieftains rule with the guidance of the shaman and wise men, and claim a special connection to the tribal gods the Kurgan serve, and indeed, many amongst the Zars are those who bear the marks of Chaos. In times of war, the Horde possesses numerous levels of organization, such as the hetzars, who are charged by the lords of the clans to lead the warriors of half a dozen or more tribes in battle. The greatest of the Kurgan lords are the High Zars, who are roughly analogous to Norscan High Kings, as they rule over multiple tribes and clans. The High Zars are celebrated champions of Chaos, no less mighty than their Norse counterparts, who have distinguished themselves in battle time and time again.

The Doom of the Great Kurgan
Before the raising of the Great Bastion of Cathay, or even the rise of hammer-handed Sigmar in the verdant lands of the Reik, it is said that in their vast lands in the east, the Kurgan had established an empire whose dominion spanned the length of the mighty steppes and ranged yet further afield. An empire of swift horsemen, snarling beasts and dread sorceries that cut down their foes far swifter than any arrow, and whose warriors' blades were ever whetted with blood. So mighty was this empire bereft of fortress or border that its ruler was known simply as the Great Kurgan, the mightiest warlord his people had ever known, for his dominion was but an extension of his bloody will. By war and conquest, the Great Kurgan gathered all the war-like tribes who bore his name under his yoke. Those who opposed him he destroyed. Those who prostrated before him he enslaved, for only the mighty would he allow to dwell amongst his ranks.

With a never ending hunger for power over the steppe lands and their people, the Great Kurgan prayed to the myriad gods of his people -- he prayed to the winds of the North, South, West and East. He prayed to earth and sky and rain. By day to the sun and by night to the moon, giving up great offerings of slaves and plunder to curry their favour. The Great Kurgan was mighty, but he was wise enough to know that the Dark Lords of the Uttermost North were mightiest above all -- and so in pact with Chaos's dark lords did the Great Kurgan pledge himself and his race in fulsome service, and swore before the Gods that he would never falter in his dues to them. The Great Kurgan had taken many wives from amongst the clans, but they had only borne him four sons: Four brothers who were rivals to each other for their father's favour and the glory of conquest. Sons whom their father had, in his greed, pledged to the Four Great Gods.

In the legends of the steppesmen, it is said that the Great Kurgan drew his sons to his side after gaining victory in a great battle. There, within his ger, the warlord spoke of the favour he had been granted, and how by the grace of the Gods he had been allowed to forge the Kurgan peoples into a mighty empire, driving before them the hosts of Man, Orc and Dwarf to ruin. With this, his sons roared their battlecries and boasted of how they would expand their father's domain yet further and spill the blood of his foes. Yet the chieftain also spoke of how there are debts that not even a king can avoid to pay, and of how it pleases the gods to take from a man that which he loves above all. In great despair did the mighty Zar fall to his knees as the Children of the Dark Powers began to walk amongst his people, driving many to the darkest depths of insanity and debased obeisance. Within his tent, the myriad trophies and battle-honours of the Great Kurgan were cast contemptuously down, and the Dark Gods did take from the Great Kurgan that which he treasured most. His four sons, taken screaming from their father's city, each transfigured with the stigmatas of the Dark Gods. Khorne -- Gore-clad Lord of Battle, Slaanesh -- Prince of Fell Pleasures, Nurgle -- Corrupt Father of Plagues, and Tzeentch -- Changer of Ways.

With his beloved sons taken from him, the Great Kurgan withheld his tears and instead raised his skull-chalice in thanksgiving to his masters, though he knew well now that every victory he would attain from henceforth would ring hollow, and every joy would turn to ashes in his mouth. The bargain complete, the fickle gods grew bored with the Great Kurgan's exploits, turning their attentions to their other servants, and met the Great Kurgan's prayers with cold silence. Though still mighty beyond all reckoning, a shade of ill-omen followed the warlord closely. His subjects whispered dark things in his passing, and warriors began to offer sacrifices in the hopes of avoiding his fate. Soon, with no bloodline to follow him, his lords gave in to cruel games of politicking, each vying for greater power and glory and rulership of the empire. Thus it was that the Great Kurgan saw his mighty empire, which he won through strength and cunning, fall from within thanks to the quarrelsome nature of his own people. All glory it once had now ground to dust and forgotten. When finally the Great Kurgan fell in battle, none would speak of his fate, and so it was that he became all but forgotten, a fireside legend amongst the men of the North. As the centuries passed, many warlords arose in the Steppes, claiming descent from this legendary father of the Kurgan people, but none could ever hope to match the legendary strength of this ancient warrior-king.

The Enslavement of the Khazags
"I have returned, father, to claim my birthright and my destiny. Once you spared me death, such was your folly. I shall not make the same mistake. By right of birth and conquest, I claim leadership of the Khazags in the names of the true gods."

- Tarok, First Zar of the Khazag, claiming leadership of the tribe

Though the Kurgan are considered by the south to be amongst of the most significant of Chaos's servants, due to their numbers and willingness with which they persecute the unholy crusade of the Dark Gods, it is also true that various tribes of Kurgan have not always been slaves to Darkness. In ancient days, the Khazag tribe knew and cared little of the wars and gods of the outside world. For them, the hunt amidst the snowy steppe and the ancient gods of the wild were enough. The tribes herded the mighty mammoth, subsisting on the creatures' colossal bounty and gloried in the fury of the hunt. Theirs was a simple life, but a fool's paradise nonetheless, for none who dwell amidst the northlands can evade the baleful gaze of the Dark Gods for long.

The fall of the Khazags into the worship of the Chaos Gods began with the fall of the chieftain's son, Tarok. Foremost amongst the tribe's young men, he was ever renowned for his skill and strength as a hunter, but his was a cruel and vengeful heart and as a young hunter, he and his followers often fell afoul of knowledge the tribal lores. One day, while Tarok and his followers were out hunting, an argument arose regarding whose spear it was that felled the great mammoth. It was a custom of the Khazag at that time that the hunter who slew the mammoth was alone entitled to feast upon its heart, thus imparting its strength to its slayer. Tarok insisted it was his weapon that had dealt the killing blow, and incensed by the continued denial of the other tribesmen, had struck him dead with his blade. Kinslaying was the worst sin a tribesman could commit, and word of Tarok's crime got out and spread amongst his people like wildfire. Many were the voices calling for his dead. His father, the chieftain, could not bring himself to kill his own blood, and instead decreed that Tarok and his followers be cast from the tribe and exiled to the lonely steppes, to live or die as Angkor, the god of the Khazags, decreed.

The Khazag moved on in their nomadic fashion, leaving Tarok to curse his fortunes. He led his warriors northwards and by some stroke of dark luck, or the will of some greater power, did not die in the wastes, but rather thrived. Not through honest labour, but rather by bartering their souls to the Dark Gods for power. In time, Tarok became a mighty champion in his own right, having earned his glory by facing the warbands of the other tribes and succeeding in battle against them. As he learned more of the dark lore and rites of Chaos, Tarok also began to plot his revenge upon those who had betrayed him. When his band grew strong enough, Tarok tracked his former tribe down and, in a night of blood and horror, did avenge himself upon his erstwhile kinsmen, slaying his own father in cold blood and forcibly installing himself as the new Zar. The Khazags were not quick to accept a murdering patricide as chief, no matter his power, and many times did they revolt against Tarok's leadership, always failing to oust the treacherous cur, but never did their spirits break regardless of whatever brutality he visited upon them. The Khazags too did aggressively resist Tarok's attempts to convert them to the worship of the Dark Gods, stubbornly adhering to their own worship of Angkor and the other spirits of nature.

Tarok grew anxious to cement his rule. Whatever he believed of his power, the truth of the matter was that his entire existence was as a pawn the Dark Gods had used to cement their hold upon the Kurgan race. The Zar begged his masters for the knowledge to turn his people to the true path. The Dark Gods answered by telling Tarok he would have to prove the weakness of the Khazag's own gods before their baleful might. Tarok knew at last what he was to do. One bloody night, he sacrificed a multitude of his kinsmen to the gods that they would grant him aid for the battle to come, and he did take his trusted band of followers north to the Chaos Wastes to find Angkor and bring him back in fetters. For a year and a day it is said Tarok was abroad hunting He Who Carries the World On His Back, and it is said that the battle to finally bring the creature to heel lasted fully three days, where most of Tarok's sworn band was slain. At last, Tarok broke the Father of Mammoths, binding him to the service of Chaos and riding him back to the lands of the Khazag, thereby demonstrating amply the supremacy of the Dark Gods.

Seeing their old god broken and humbled so, the Khazag submitted at last before Tarok and eagerly accepted him as their chieftain and lord. Accepting his deities in place of their own, for truly they must have been the greater powers, as he had always claimed. From then on, the Khazags had joined their fellow tribes as servants of the Dark Gods. Once simple hunting folk, the Khazags were now willing pawns of Chaos. In the ages to come, the Khazags would fight in the endless holy wars of the gods, marshalling the ancient might of their mammoths to warfare and death. The scions of Tarok, the Zars of the Khazags, leading their kinsmen to war from the back of Angkor himself, bow and pallasz in hand. For thousands of years has it been thus, with the mighty Khazags raiding and pillaging the stanistas of the Kislevites to carry back plunder, slaves and sacrifices in honour of their Gods.

The Vengeance of the Norsii
"Now is the time to take the fire south."

- Comac Bloodaxe, High King of the Norsii

In 9 IC, the Kurgan tribes bestirred themselves for battle once more with the rise of the mighty Norsii in the north, who gathered under the leadership a great king who was exalted in the eyes of Khorne. His name was Cormac Bloodaxe of the Iron Wolves clan, and already had he forged a reputation as perhaps the greatest warrior of his age. Cormac, son of the slain High King of the Norsii, had thirsted for the chance to avenge the offenses the Emperor Sigmar and his people had made against the Norsemen when he drove them from the Reik decades ago, and had thus resolved to make of the Empire a sacrifice to Khorne. As tales of the Norse King's valour and exaltedness spread throughout the north, the Kurgan, their shamans recognizing the signs of battle, journeyed west and joined their forces to Cormac's banner. In time, the Kul, Mung, Khazag and other great tribes marched alongside the axe-wielding armies of the Norsii, intent on bringing about the End Times upon the weakling Empire of Sigmar.

Under Cormac's leadership, the Norsii decisively defeated Sigmar's army, slaying a thousand men and routing them. The horse-tribes had played an integral role in this triumph when they surrounded the Thuringian vanguard and bogged them down, thus allowing heavily armoured Norsii cavalrymen to run down and slaughter the berserkers, spelling the end for Sigmar's army. The Kurgan chieftains enjoyed the spoils of victory alongside their Norsii counterparts. Sacrifices were offered to the Dark Gods in droves, with hunchbacked Kul shamans ritualistically disemboweling their captives while daemons gibbered and screamed at their shoulders, bidding them to devour the entrails. Khazag strong-men pummeled their prisoners to death with their bare fists, and yet other tribes made more gruesome sacrifices in their own traditional ways.

The Norsemen and Kurgan then laid siege to Middenheim, the great mountain city of the savage Teutogen. In a long, grueling siege where the Northmen carried the walls, Cormac Bloodaxe is said to have ascended to daemonhood, becoming an avatar of Khorne's fury. The Daemon Prince scaled the mountain and shattered the city walls, allowing the Northmen to pour through and slaughter, but whatever havoc they could wreak paled in comparison to the utter devastation Cormac now unleashed upon the Imperials. At last, the Daemon Prince thundered its way to the menhir ringed Flame of Ulric to face Sigmar Heldenhammer himself in combat. Strengthened by Ulric, Sigmar struck the Daemon Prince down, sending Cormac screaming back to the Realm of Chaos. At the king's downfall, the spirit of his hersirs was broken, and the Norsii were routed from Middenheim, though none would quickly forget the terror and horror of their invasion.

This was the first instance of contact with the Norse in the Kurgan's history, and was also the first instance of the Kurgan waging war against the Empire, as allies and sword-brothers to a Norse force. It was also the event that would mark the beginning of relations between the Norsemen and the Kurgan, where both races would begin to influence each other greatly.

The Rise of Asavar Kul
In 2297 IC, the Dark Gods gathered in apocalyptic union, at last seeing fit to impart their ultimate blessing upon a warrior who would rise to unite the disparate peoples of the North into a mighty army capable of bringing about the End of all things. Many great champions arose seeking to earn the favour of the gods, but it was Asavar Kul, the mightiest warrior of his age, chieftain of the bloodthirsty Kul tribe, and vicious devotee of the Dark Gods. Under the mighty Asavar, the Kul tribe arose as the greatest power in the North, vanquishing their rivals in brutal wars in order to establish their supremacy. Legends tell of Asavar's power, of his eyes that blazed with the power of Chaos, of his red-lacquered armour festooned with the totems and fetishes of the Dark Gods, and of his savage hunger for human flesh. When Asavar had succeeded in binding the fractious Kurgan and Hung tribes to his banner, he turned his gaze westward and brought the savage Norsemen under his command as well, enlisting his lieutenants from that hardy race -- Engra Deathsword, Sven Bloody-Hand and Valmir Aesling.

In 2301 IC, Grandfather Nurgle saw fit to grace the lands of the Empire with his bounteous gifts, sickening portents blooming across the length and breadth of the land, thousands dying as a result of abject crop failure and ravening plagues, and massive corruption within the Empire's politics began to rise even further to the fore. To the Kurgan chieftain, the Empire of the southmen seemed ripe for conquest and destruction. As the Anointed One gathered his tribespeople for a new attack against the south, warbands of Northmen had already begun to proceed his mighty warhosts, raiding and pillaging Nordland and some even ranging as far as the walls of Altdorf itself.

Kul travails first led him northwards, for he could feel in his soul that the gates that divided the worlds swelled with power and made haste to witness their glory. He knew well upon seeing them that all the Men of the North would feel the call of the Dark Gods as he did. The Dark Shadow spilled southwards, engulfing the lands of the tribes and absorbing them into the Realm of Chaos. Before this irresistible tide, the Warriors of Chaos gathered, and Kul gathered them into his host. As the shadow spread further south, he found his army growing all the more, joined as it was by hordes of ravenous Trolls, battle-hardened Northman warbands from the borders of Troll Country, and all manner of monstrous and hellish beasts that followed such a mighty horde. Asavar Kul's army soon grew to be amongst the largest ever to threaten the realm of the Hammer and the Wolf.

Kul's horde swept into Kislev, setting all before it alight in an orgy of rape and pillage. Tzar Alexis of Kislev sent calls for aid to the south, and in answer rode Count Bavaric of Ostland. Long had his province been subject to the malignancy of the Beastmen, and thus was he a staunch foe of all the Scions of Chaos. With Bavaric's armies reinforcing them, the Kislevites found renewed drive to resist the northern invaders, and fought like maddened bears in defense of their homes. Yet their fury was little compared to that of the Kurgan, who blanketed the steppes between Murmagrad and Chazask with Gospodar corpses. Asavar Kul himself fought at the head, a true warrior-king of the Kurgan race, his wrath eclipsing all other warriors. His twin battle-axes slaughtered and smote all about him, hacking cavalryman and footsoldier alike with terrible ease. Kul even faced and hacked down the Great Bear, Urvitch, said to be the embodiment of primal spirit of the land itself, in single combat, turning the snow to slush with the noble creature's blood.

Kul's armies pressed on from the East, from the North came his Norscan allies, who laid waste to the cities of Praag and Erengrad. The two forces joined at the screaming corpse of the great Ungol city, and then began to march upon the city of Kislev, the seat of Tzar Alexis himself. To aid the Kislevites in opposing him rode forth the armies of Magnus the Pious, of Nuln, who had united the warring states of the Empire into a profoundly mighty fighting force.

Asavar Kul's incursion culminated in the cataclysmic melee that was the Battle of Kislev. Tzar Alexis, grimly with characteristic Kislevite fatalism, resolved to hold the great capitol against the Kurgan and Norse horde until Magnus and his vast army could arrive. To aid him in this was a throng of doughty Dwarfen soldiers, who despite the unrest of their mountain realm of Karaz-a-Karak would not forsake their oaths of friendship to the Empire and her allies. Though they were few in number, these were the most battle-hardened warriors of the Dwarfen realm at the time.