Mutation

More than the threat of armies of black-armoured warriors tumbling out of the blasted Chaos Wastes, or the nefarious threat of Cultists decaying the moral fibres of Imperial life, it is the threat of mutation that terrifies Old Worlders. It is the most personal of the threats that the Ruinous Powers pose, the erosion of the self into the seething foulness of Chaos. One can never tell who hides some strange corruption of the flesh beneath a baggy shirt or under filthy breeches. A neighbour could conceal some bizarre abomination in their cellar, and everyone listens for the horrible shrieks of a new mother spawning a twisted beast. The threat of physical contamination is ever-present, and all Old Worlders keep a watchful eye for the telltale signs of corruption.

Causes of Mutation
Who can say for certain why mutation occurs? Some suggest moral failing. Some claim it is a curse. Others suggest it is punishment for mortal sin. Regardless of the cause, mutation occurs with startling frequency, and though the Witch Hunters and honest citizens do their parts to destroy Mutants wherever they appear, their efforts are not enough to slow the tide of corruption threatening to contaminate the Old World.

In an effort to stop or slow the spread of physical corruption, there has been some effort over the centuries to catalogue the catalysts of change. What follows is but a sample of the causes of mutation. By no means is this survey complete, for the ways of the Ruinous Powers are many and insidious.

Contamination of the Womb
Nothing is more tragic than seeing the product of love soured by the stain of corruption, but each year, more and more children are born tainted, twisted, and corrupted by the terrifying power of the Dark Gods. And these are not minor defects, no, these are the abominations, those creatures born inhuman, more beast than Human, evil made manifest in the flesh. Among the lost children, strange maladies appear in their tender and seemingly innocent flesh. A babe might be born with the legs of a rooster or sporting a third eye in the centre of its brow. Tentacles; fur; gross size; bestial, conjoined twins tied together with the bonds of perverted flesh; and worse.

Honest Old Worlders know their duty and are quick to split the heads of these creatures—even at such a young age—to smother the corruption. But, the mortal spirit is weak, sullied by temptation and misplaced affections. Misguided parents take their children to lonely places in the woods, or leave them in bowers of reeds that will take them who knows where. In cities, parents guiltily place their spawn in the sewers or set them loose in the streets of the poorest quarters. The most foolish actually attempt to hide their offspring, pretending, in their despair, that nothing is wrong with their treasured offspring.

The result of these acts of mercy is quite the inverse. What life can a Mutant expect to live? What right does it have to dwell under the shining beacon of Sigmar’s glory? No, instead of mercy, the well-intentioned parents merely forestall the inevitable, inviting disaster on their own heads and worsening a situation already sad. These lost children cavort with others of their kind, sampling the diseased fruits issued from the loins of the blackest of powers and preying upon the righteous and just.

Still, the temptation to spare one’s own flesh is powerful. Most men and women, when confronted with their duty to eliminate tainted offspring, find they lack the mettle. Such is the influence of the Dark Gods that they can touch the hearts and minds of otherwise pious men and women. And, for each failure, the Foul Forces of the north grow in their terrible power.

Environment
The reach of the Ruinous Powers is long indeed. The touch of the Gods can twist and warp the very land as it can the mortal form. Tainted places remain as the Realm of Chaos recedes following each Incursion. Foul spells and rituals cast by Magi twist and warp the land around them. And, seemingly for no reason at all, the very wilderness betrays the natural order of things, rotting and warping to the faint laughter of the Dark Gods. Entering these profane places is dangerous even for the purest of heart, and the very air can plant the seeds of change in those who travel these regions overlong.

Perhaps the most commonly corrupted places are the cities themselves. For good reason, the armies of Chaos focus their attacks on the population centres, much as they did in the Great War against Chaos, and more recently during the Storm of Chaos. Each invasion coincides with a swelling of magical energy pouring out of the maddening realms beyond the Chaos Wastes, and this fell energy changes whatever it touches.

Cities also breed mutations for other reasons. For most Old World cities, the living conditions deteriorate in direct proportion to its size. No city is clean, and most, if not all, are over-crowded, packed tightly with desperate people seeking to improve their lives. The deplorable conditions in city life lend themselves to the full spectrum of Human wickedness, which, in turn, spreads despair, anger, desperation, and envy: the foundations of corruption. Dissatisfaction with this fate, and seeing the decadent nobility in their sleek carriages and fortress-homes, breeds resentment, which ultimately leads to self-loathing and bitterness. Some people turn to Cults to resolve these difficulties. Most have no idea whom these Cults serve, while others simply let their emotions fester until their bodies rebel and sprout some horrible tentacle or eyestalk.

Many scholars believe the tendency for mutation in urban environments is artificially higher simply due to population density. The more people in an area, the more likely it is for the inevitable mutation to emerge. To prove this, they point to the dozens of communities throughout the Old World that spawn their own Mutants, clearly suggesting that mutation is not exclusive to urban centres.

As further proof of the insidious power of Chaos, one need only look to the manifestations of Chaos taint in the land itself. Travellers tell of places of warped and twisted landscapes, where the trees leak foul, ochre fluid, and the very earth moans from its corruption. Bizarre creatures abound, such as those that have been spotted in the Wastelands, or even the occasional anomaly captured by hunters—stories abound of three-eyed deer, horned rabbits, turtles that speak, and the amphisbaena.

Though the wilderness and cities both lend themselves to producing Mutants, such places are rare. One does not just stumble into a glade contaminated with living rot. But, among these rare sites, there are places that have been changed through Human endeavour. Such places may have once served as gathering places for Cults, or might be sites where a particularly foul servant of the Ruinous Powers fell. Some might house ancient tombs, best left undisturbed lest the evil within somehow escape, while others may hide pockets of Wyrdstone, such as the ones that contaminated the doomed city of Mordheim. These locations are thankfully unusual, and soon after one is discovered, the Witch Hunters are quick to cleanse the site of any taint.

Forbidden Lore
The Priests of Sigmar teach that just as the mouth takes in food and drink to nourish the body, so too does the mind take in information to feed the spirit. If you eat a spoiled meat pie, or drink suspicious wine, you might fall ill or even die, depending on how rancid the fare. So too can the spirit sicken when foul words and thoughts are allowed to enter the mind. When too much filth is consumed, the soul sickens, jeopardizing the natural balances of the body, until the body manifests the spiritual corruption as a mutation.

Whether the words of Priests are true or not, certain tomes have power, an unwholesome ability to corrupt the body, injecting the fell energies of Chaos with every turn of the page. Such volumes have brought many a curious occultist low, driving them mad or destroying the flesh. Other books may seem innocent until the ink itself is examined. A mixture of Warpstone powder and urine produces a vibrant smoky ink that scorches the velum. When handled, the residue enters the bloodstream, loosing the ravaging effects of Warpstone. Such contaminations are never fast; rather, they gradually contaminate the body or mind over a period of months. Years ago, a Cult printed a catalogue of murderers, their crimes and their weapons of choice. Soon after the so called ‘penny dreadful’ went on sale, people began going mad, becoming raving spiteful berserkers, screaming and raging at anything or anyone who happened to be near. It took a few months for the Witch Hunters to track down the source of this new calamity, and once they recovered all the pamphlets, they used the copies as kindling for the pyres to burn the victims of this strange manuscript.

Plague
In many ways, one of the most common feelings experienced by Old Worlders is despair. It is sadness, misgiving, and melancholy. It is the hopelessness of one’s fate, the inability to rise above the bindings placed by circumstance of birth or fortune. And, while the unfairness of life fertilises the seeds of doubt, it is the onset of sickness that epitomises the randomness and inescapability of Human suffering.

Disease crosses all barriers. It breaches the mightiest defences, striking the corrupt and innocent alike. There is no protection, and no matter how a penitent prays and pleads, disease strikes down the mighty and meek alike. So, in the face of such capricious power, it is no wonder that Humans succumb to the dark mutterings in their minds and search for some succour from the discomfort of their bodies rebelling against them. It is the most hopeless and desperate who turn to the cold comfort of Old Father Nurgle’s embrace.

The disease itself is often enough to contain this strange and disgusting breed of Mutant, as it soon dissolves the corporeal form into hacking, coughing, liquid death. But, Nurgle feeds on despair, and though he ameliorates the pain somewhat, he extends the body’s ability to contend with the contagion running rampant. The greater Nurgle’s touch, the greater the likelihood for some other warping effect, some new calamity of the flesh to appear and torment the subject until some compassionate Witch Hunter burns the flesh away and frees the soul from Chaos’ grip.

Possession
Possession is the assumption of the physical form by some external agency. Hedge Wizards and Shamans sometimes dabble in Necromancy, conjuring up the spirits of the dead, or worse, allowing these disembodied beings to occupy their bodies so that they can channel thoughts and wishes of the departed with their living loved ones. Such acts are always invitations to disaster. Why? There is a natural order of things: When a mortal dies, his spirit is let loose to Morr’s Realm. Spiritualists and Necromancers disrupt this order to dabble in forces best left undisturbed.

While they sometimes can communicate with the dead, more often than not they deal with something far worse—a Daemon.

Source

 * Warhammer Fantasy RPG 2nd ED -- Tome of Corruption (pg. 14-20).