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Sitting in a sector plauged by a hyper-irradiated sun, the hellscape planet of Terminus was one of the last few brought under the banner of Mankind during the Great Crusade. Resting far beyond the rim of practical protection for the Imperium from the beginning, it was in a lot of ways a prototype for the Frontier World designation - one with disastrous results. Initially the people of Terminus had been quite thrilled to join the Emperor's "noble cause", seeing this as a chance for protection and resources. None ever came, instead only the ever-grinding demand of the Tithe, and radio silence in times of need were all they got. It wasn't hard for Chaos to take root.

Slowly becoming even more wary, and pessimistic as a people, Terminus began a long, brutal decent into madness.

Now, after Lord Abbadon's Great XIIIth Black Crusade, it stands as a testament to the might of the Ruinous Powers through the Terminus of Hate cult. A bloody fusion of madness, and nihilism gone wrong, the warlike inhabitants have twisted their native respect for the dangers of Terminus into a fevered worship of murder. Like most Apocalyptic Cults they believe the age of Mankind is fading, and soon only Chaos will remain - unlike most they see sowing as much mayhem, destruction, and death as their holiest cause, and the most brutal, cruel methods of war as their solemn duty. They get their name from the Terminus tradition of raiders ritually scarring their Warchief's banner onto their chest, now a Star of Chaos on the shoulder.

They have a strong kindred relationship with the Chem Hunters of Messia, bonding deeply over their similar plights, and have forged a strange alliance with the Death Priests of Mire through an oath of endless fresh carrion.

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The rigid militarization and violence-fetishism of the Marked Men leaves them with a heavy predisposition for the worship of Khorne. The unique outlook of the murder cult has turned this into an ingenious resource via the Bloody Vanguard. Men and women who irredeemably fall under the sway of the Lord of Blood are diverted to a collective of local Blood Cults burried deep within the Underhives of Terminus. In exchange the Blood Cults don't host Warbands of their own, an unheard of thing amongst those lost to the dark Rage of Khorne. Instead each cult they supply with violent devotees sends their greatest, most berserk warriors as a Vanguard when the Marked Men march.

This symbiotic relationship has kept inter-cult violence to a minimum (It helps that the people of Terminus don't mind friendly fire - all murder is holy in their eyes), and provided both sects higher standards of training, and communication.

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The inhabitants of Messia live in a world blighted with pollution and utterly inhospitable to human life; yet human life persists and has taken root within the twin cities at the planet's poles. Life in these cities is hard and heavily dependent on expeditions that continuously scour Messia's blasted wastelands to secure precious promethium. Such expeditions are made up of the hardiest of Messia's inhabitants and it is from these that the Chem-Hunters arise. Chem-Hunters are veterans of the unforgiving wilderness of Messia and offer their invaluable services as raiders and escorts to the drill-barons. They are consummate riders and skirmishers, frequently seen operating attack bike escorts or clinging to the rigs watching for roaming mutant hordes. The majority of Messia's population view them as daredevils at best and suicidal at worst.

However, there is no denying that they are accomplished survivalists and valued additions to any warband.

The Chem-Hunters of Messia are skilled and deadly killers who are used to surviving in spite of desperate odds. They tend towards wild and reckless behaviour, seeming to care little about the potential pitfalls of their actions. These nomads operate as mercenaries and guides that sell their services to the highest bidder, which on Messia usually means working for the notorious drill-barons. They are also proficient mechanics, most having to salvage and repair their vehicles under rather frantic circumstances. Despite the many extreme dangers, life on an expedition offers a great degree of freedom from the constant degradations of Messia's cities.

Chem-Hunters are constantly exposed to all manner of pollutants and toxins in the scorched wastelands, and, should they survive, become naturally resistant to such chemicals.

However, these individuals also suffer from a unique poisoning that makes them dependent on the very compounds that afflict their bodies. The exact nature of this toxin is unknown; some, however, speculate that it may be related to the phenomenon that spawns the planet's roving mutant hordes.

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Xurunt Frost Fathers are experienced fighters who have mastered the warlike way of life on the feral world of Xurunt. The nomads of Xurunt, known as the Xur, continually migrate across the vast prairies of the planet’s surface, seeking only to enslave and conquer any other tribes they encounter. It is a brutal existence, beginning when each is taught to ride a Xurunsh from the earliest possible age. This planetwide struggle for dominance continues until winter, when the Xur focus instead on surviving the harsh conditions or ritually honouring their bloody god Baphtar at one of his towering idols (who is reality is actually the Blood God Khorne). Through skill, determination, and daring a Frost Father has risen to a position of leadership among his tribe, and earned the right to lead his warriors into battle during the winter season.

They are stubborn, wilful, and belligerent warriors, difficult to command but fearless in battle. A Frost Father may also be a woman for, though the title is masculine, the Xur respect ability regardless of gender.

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Of the various worlds within the Screaming Vortex that exhibit signs of Nurgle's pestilent touch, few are as prominent as the barren and blighted planet of Mire. Here the squalid denizens forage aimlessly amidst endless foetid pools of festering muck and decaying vegetation, their diseased bodies enduring solely due to Nurgle's unnatural ministrations. Perhaps the most dangerous of these are the so-called Death Priests who prey upon their fellow Mirens in order to perpetuate their disgusting adulation of the Plague God's bountiful corruptions. Death Priests feed on the bodies of their victims in order to nourish the parasites, diseases, and other foul poxes that writhe in their bloated guts. They believe these afflictions to be a blessing from the Plague Father.

On Mire, they see it as their unholy duty to hunt down the so-called "Pyrions" -- clean ones -- and devour them. After slaying any foe, though, they usually gorge themselves on every scrap of putrescent sustenance to feed the ravenous diseases that wrack their ghoulish forms. These feculent warriors are highly prized within the debased warbands of the Screaming Vortex, and many opportunistic slavers exploit their infamous enthusiasm for slaughter by luring these voracious killers off-world with promises of fresh carcasses to consume.

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Living deep within the corpse of the dead planet Rancor, the Thralls are a subspecies of Ogyrn. Unlike their Imperial kin, these creatures are little more than beasts, aware of only the howling call of Chaos, and malice of Marked Slavers. Evolved specially to suit their noxious and subterranean home, these massive brutes are hunted, captured, augmented and then contained on Chaos ships in powrful arcane-fueled prisons. They will attack any, and all things they can reach, and have shown a startling capacity for cruelty that signifies some sense of intelligence.

Taller, stronger, and more durable than their stock-kin, these voracious cannibals are more accurately described as tanks, made from flesh, hate, and unending hunger.

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