Tattersouls

Clad in little more than sackcloth and rope, the brethren of zealots known as the Tattersouls march after the Grand Theogonist wherever he goes – whether he likes it or not.

Every Warrior Priest of Sigmar has at some stage become afflicted with a band of such strange companions, shrieking maniacs and booming doomsayers traipsing in his wake as he manfully attempts to go about his business. The Tattersouls can be counted amongst the oddest group of all. Their founder, the self-proclaimed prophet Gerhardt the Worm, was originally one of Volkmar's companions in the war against the Everchosen in the far north. Now, there is little of his original personality left to him. It is as if his religious mania is a living thing, and highly contagious.

Whilst the Tattersouls stamp and shudder in their devotions to Sigmar, lashing themselves into a state of religious ecstasy with their barbed flails, passers-by tear at their clothing and rip out their hair in handfuls. The onlookers are set aflame by the aura of faith, joining the throng's frenzied dance as they take up the rags and whips of those whose bodies have proven too weak to contain the faith within. Some come to their senses at night's end and return home to their loved ones, muddy and bleeding, with monotonous plainsong ringing in their ears. Others cast off their former lives forever, caught up in the demented crusade of the Tattersouls until death. Their voices mingle in prayer to the warrior god of the Empire, some strong and confident, others broken and pained. All are fervent in their belief that the end is nigh, and it can only be stopped by the ultimate sacrifice of the Empire so that a new order of humanity may rise from the ashes.

Source
Almas Harapientas
 * Sigmar's Blood
 * pg. 22

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