Tzeentch

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"I watch you. I see the hatred in your eyes, well hidden behind courtly graces. I
listen. I know the terrible darkness that hides behind your well-rehearsed lies. I
wait for you at the edge of sanity. I taste the pain in your mind, the yearning to end
this charade. I make my home in the darkest pits of your soul. In the shadows, I bide
my time. I patiently wait for you to open your eyes and realise that it is by my will
alone that you draw breath. For I am Tzeentch and you are my puppet who dances
to my tune."

—Tzeentch, the Changer of Ways.

The ever-changing Mark of Tzeentch.

Tzeentch, known also as The Raven God, the Changer of Ways and the Great

Conspirator is the Chaos God of magic, change, evolution, destiny, lies and trickery. He is
flux embodied, a daemon-god who alone truly embodies the terrible energies and
momentum of Chaos. He bears a strong claim to all who profess to worship the Northern
Gods, for without transformation, a warrior cannot ascend to greatness, the gods cannot
grant their blessings, and the living cannot die.
Tzeentch's name is derivative from his true name in the Dark Tongue; Tzeen'neth, Lord of
Change. He is the Great Sorcerer of Chaos, and Bringer of Change, for make no mistake --
endless, broiling change is the truest nature of Chaos, and Chaos is the source of the
eldritch energies that mortals, in their superstition, have named "magic."

What mortal can dare say that he has not desired knowledge of the mysteries of destiny, or
the awesome power of magic? It is Tzeentch alone who holds the true key to this terrible
knowledge, and his price is steep indeed. For his worshippers are naught but pawns in his
game to outflank his Brothers in Darkness and to bring about the downfall of all
civilisation. The Raven God rewards his followers with madness and insanity, and upon
death their spirits are brought to his halls to serve him for all eternity. Yet, the Raven God
does not scheme towards the accomplishment of some end, but instead, strives to create
tumult and turmoil for its own sake.

Though weary scholars of Daemon lore know this god by the name of Tzeentch, in truth, he
exceeds all the other Ruinous Powers in his number of facets and aspects. For he is change,
said to embody every mortal creature's recognition of, and desire to, change. His face and
form shifts and turns from eternity unto eternity.
To the vicious barbarians of Norsca, he is the Raven God. In the dreaded East, he is known
as Chen the Deceiver, and the Kurgan tribes hold that his messengers are the great condors
of the Steppes. Yet whatever his mien and whomever his people, the Changer is ever
viewed as the Great Schemer, a fickle, politicking god who should be feared as much as he
should not be trusted.
The Hordes of Change unleashed.

In grimoires prescribed by half-sane men, the devotees of Tzeentch scribble down their
respective visions of their god. No two accounts are alike. Sometimes the god is depicted as
a huge mass of shifting colours, or as a mighty Daemon with a vulturous beak and multi-
hued wings, and other times as a gangrel giant with its monstrous head set squarely in its
chest, and with two serpents writhing from its shoulders.

The followers of Tzeentch hold that he rules from an Impossible Fortress deep within
the Realm of Chaos. At its heart, within a crystalline labyrinth of inconceivable geometry,
lies the Hidden Library, a hall of eternal dimensions that houses the collective knowledge
of the entire universe. Within it lies also the fabled Well of Eternity, and into its magic
waters does Tzeentch gaze for aeons uncounted, searching intently for a glimpse of the
clues and conundrums that will allow him to enact his ineffable schemes.

Tzeentch possesses many sigils and symbols, though the most common is the writhing fire
of change. Daemon and champion alike are gifted with eerie bird-like beaks, claws, and
multi-coloured feathers. Their skin and armour are in constant flow, shifting in shape and
textures, forming grotesque, cackling faces and kaleidoscopes of blazing colour that
disorient all who look upon them.
Those few who succeed upon this twisting path become the most other-wordly of all Chaos
Champions. For they are blessed twofold with incredible martial skill and the arcane might
of the Lord of Magic. While the warrior-skill of the Chosen of Tzeentch is still second to
those warriors who tread Khorne's bloody path, their potent magical abilities are still
enough to empower them as formidable adversaries who lead their armies with otherwordly
prescience.
Though the servitors of Tzeentch are not as directly mighty or savagely courageous as those
of bloodthirsty Khorne, nor possessing the unholy resiliency of the warriors of Nurgle, the
might of the Changer of Ways cannot be measured with means so crude as the physical.
The skies above a Tzeentchian warband writhe and burn with untrammeled power. Their
banners screech with otherwordly energies and seethe and crackle with bolts of lightning
that bring ruination to the enemy.

The blades and armour of a Chosen of Tzeentch glow with eldritch flame, and when the
Raven is ascendant, his champions are gifted with a preternatural ability to sense and
perceive the flow of time itself and instinctively react to over a dozen different outcomes,
thus affording them tactical supremacy over the battlefield. Warshrines draw forth yet more
arcane power into the ranks of the faithful, even as the warrior-wizards at their head
unleash curses of ungodly power that mutate or immolate all they touch.

The power of Chaos itself is embodied within Tzeentch and his servants.

Though Tzeentch gathers fewer devotees from amongst the brute tribes of Norsca and
Kurgan than the War-God Khorne, he still occupies a highly significant role in the lives of
the warriors of the North. He is the patron of the shaman and soothsayers of the far north,
who pray to him that he may bestow them pre-eminence over the warrior-chieftains who
rule the tribes, and for fortune and glory in all magical endeavours. But it is amongst the
lands of the Empire and far Cathay that Tzeentch's influence is most keen. In the land
of Sigmar, the worshippers of Tzeentch gather in hidden covens by which they use every
means to increase their own personal standing in society and spread the power of their
patron.

Those most vulnerable to his temptations are the mages, scholars, and other educated
members of society who labour in the search for knowledge, whatever the cost to their
morals or sanity. Most of these cults are led by magisters -- the most accomplished
magician in the ranks, and are divided into so many layers of affiliation, each highly
complex, that the only individual in the cult likely to know the identity of all its members is
the magister himself.

By contrast, in Cathay, the worship of Tzeentch is an officially recognised cult, and the
veneration of this Dark God is foolishly allowed to progress free and unmolested, albeit in a
form more controlled and suited to civilisation than the brutality of the Norse and Kurgan.

The tribes of the North who venerate Tzeentch believe him to be the lord of the sky, and
that by entering a trance-like state, they too can soar the heavens alongside him,
communing with him and learning his will. It is he, they maintain, that understands the
hearts and minds of men better than his brothers.  Tzeentch's favoured totem beast is the
Raven, and it is in his aspect of the raven that he is worshipped amongst the Norsemen. The
eagle is yet another beast sacred to Tzeentch, one by which he is honoured by both Norse
and Kurgan alike.

Such animals are said to be his eyes in the mortal realm and to see one is considered an
omen amongst those who profess to serve him. Whether one for good or ill, none can say,
for Tzeentch delights in misdirection and subterfuge, and the only limit to his
capriciousness is his own anarchic imagination.
Tzeentch's sacred number is nine, and this is reflected in the organisations of his cults and
warbands, who often congregate in multiples or divisors of nine, and also in the number of
syllables in a Tzeentchian Daemon's true name. His favoured colours are blue and gold, but
an ever-shifting spectrum of different colours is likewise thought to honour him in his
capacity as the engine of change. One thing alone is certain, however, that whenever the
Raven stirs from his reverie, madness, treachery and strife afflict creation.

Contents

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The Raven God

"Do not ask which creature screams in the night. Do not question who waits for you
in the shadow. It is my cry that wakes you in the night, and my body that crouches
in the shadow. I am Tzeentch and you are the puppet that dances to my tune..."

—The Book of Tzeentch.

The Chaos God Tzeentch in all its glory.

The Dark God known as Tzeentch is perhaps the most maddening and enigmatic of all the
Ruinous Powers. Indeed, his true goals are difficult to fathom -- if he seeks to control the
world, then his methods are oblique, at best. The Great Conspirator seems most content in
allowing his mortal slaves to further his plans. Tzeentch enjoys blessing mortals with power
too great for them to bear, particularly in the case of magicians and wizards. In the case of
those without magical potential, the Conspirator instead offers to reveal ancient knowledge
and secret ways to bring down rivals. Ultimately however, none can hazard a guess as to
Tzeentch's ultimate goal -- to do so is to invite madness. His many conspiracies often seem
to be self-defeating and contradictory, for each ineffable manoeuvre has been intricately
planned into eternity itself. Perhaps it is that the dark schemes he uses to torment
mortalkind are naught but an amusing diversion for him, perhaps only the insane can truly
comprehend his infinite thoughts; for perhaps he is insane himself, and his plans, are, in
fact, utterly devoid of all reason.

Amongst the tribes of the North, the shamans of Norsca and the Eastern Steppes teach that
during the mythic ages of the world, when the gods of Chaos made war upon the Old Ones,
it was Tzeentch who was foremost amongst the gods, for this was his time; a time of wild
magic and unrestrained sorcery, where daemons and mutations ran rampant and the world
faced the most primal of all change in the throes of war and death and the overthrow of an
old order. The other gods saw Tzeentch's glory and grew jealous, and jealousy in turn
became fear that he would eclipse them all in power and might. Thus, the other gods
conspired and hatched a plan to tear him from his lofty perch. The gods ambushed the
Changer and faced him in battle, but so mighty was the Raven that he threw all but one
back, and so it was that in the end Khorne alone was left, to pit the strength of steel against
sorcery. For ages uncounted did the two mighty gods battle atop a great mountain, evenly
matched until Khorne caught Tzeentch by his throat and threw him from the highest peak.
Where the Great Conspirator fell, his form was shattered into ten thousand pieces that flew
across eternity, each shard metamorphosing into an incantation of magical power; thus
becoming the spells that trip from the tongues of arcane practitioners to this day. Thus was
Tzeentch's power now faded, and victorious Khorne took his place as First amongst the
company of the Dark Gods.

This myth illustrates that ultimately all magic is the product of Tzeentch, and that to cast a
spell is to traffic with the very essence of the Changer of Ways. While this is an openly
accepted truth in the North, the civilised realms of the Empire and Kislev are largely
ignorant of this terrible fact (or actively suppress it, fearful of the consequences should the
truth get out).

The god of magic favours the cunning over the strong, the manipulative over the violent.
He directs the fates of mortals, and guides them down their paths in his schemes, though
they often do not know that they were ever even players in his dark games. He is especially
fond of imparting special authority upon magicians in this respect, as well as creatures and
beings formed of magic itself. He delights in observing the politicking and conspiracies that
mortals perform against each other of their own accord, for here indeed is the potential that
has drawn him to watch over mankind. And such is his skill at brokering and deception,
that is often said in the tales of the Northmen that is Tzeentch who brokers the tenuous
cessations in fraternal warfare between the Gods, which allows them to unite in their
blessings to drive the hordes of the savage North to their incursions of untold bloodshed
and annihilation.

Warriors of Tzeentch
"For the Raven God!"

—Various Chosen of Tzeentch.

A Chaos Chosen of Tzeentch.

Tzeentch is the god of sorcery and magic; a distant, capricious god who demands strength
and cunning in equal measure. While the brutal Khorne reviles the use of arcane trickery as
dishonourable, and therefore forbids its usage, the Raven God is far more pragmatic, and
sees no qualm with exploiting brute force when it will serve his aims.
As a result, the warriors of Tzeentch are often both capable warriors and master wizards,
making them incredibly dangerous opponents. Tzeentch, in his various aspects, is
commonly venerated by the shaman in the far North. Indeed, as the ultimate god of magic,
even sorcerers dedicated to Nurgle or Slaanesh are wise enough to provide him offerings.
He is also the god of chieftains and leaders, and though it is far more common for the
warrior-kings of the northern tribes to pay homage unto Khorne, Tzeentch's role as the
Weaver of Fates compels even the jarls and zars of the Northmen to cultivate his favour,
lest they instead draw his ire.
The reputation of the northern warriors of Tzeentch for meticulously prosecuting the
strategy of war is rightly legendary, and it has thus often appeared to the Empire's generals
that almost every eventuality in battle has been planned for in advance. Indeed, even should
an army of Norsemen or one of the other barbarian hordes dedicated to Tzeentch be broken
and routed, it is always difficult to discern whether this is a true victory, or merely just the
latest in a long series of steps in an unfathomably complex plan wrought by the Changer of
Ways.
The followers of Tzeentch are often capable warriors in their own right, but it is in their
capacity for maleficent spell-craft and masterful manipulation that they truly excel. The
greatest amongst their number are amongst the most mutated of all the followers of Chaos,
armed with devastatingly powerful magical weaponry and mighty armour etched endlessly
with runes of protection and aid, and are amongst the most terrifying of the servants of
Chaos.
Yet in spite of the great power granted by the veneration of the Great Conspirator, there are
few tribes in the North who would take him as their sole patron. This is particularly true
in Norsca, where many prefer the bloody honour of Khorne's path. However, the worship of
Tzeentch is relatively more common amongst the Kurgan tribes, who place great
importance upon the evolving nature of the world.

Regardless, by and large, the Raven God is perhaps the least called upon deity of the bleak
northlands. The natural Northern antipathy and distrust for magic is likely also a
contributing factor. However, whatever they lack in numbers they make up for in cunning.

For beyond any faculty of magic or martial might, the servants of Tzeentch are feared
chiefly for their impressive cunning. Many times has a warband of Northmen dedicated to
Tzeentch overcome a foe of greater strength through means of espionage and subterfuge,
causing disruptions that divide the enemy, allowing the savages to cut them down and make
of them offerings to their abhorrent master.

Tzeentch, even amongst the dread deities of Chaos, is perhaps the most active in portioning
out the dubious gifts of mutation. Indeed, it is in his very nature to do so, as he embodies
that particular aspect of Chaos more deeply than any of this brothers. Truly, his followers
bear the most maddening and hideous of all the marks of Chaos, as well as perhaps the
most deadly.

Daemon Servants of Tzeentch

The Daemons of Tzeentch are inherently magical creatures, even more so than the other
daemons of Chaos; they appear ephemeral, transparent or as if made of light. Their very
presence can alter the rules of reality, and they can leave trails of multi-coloured fire and
mist behind them as they move.

 Lords of Change - Are the greater daemons of Tzeentch. They are typically an
avian-like winged humanoid daemon of vast intelligence and massive sorcerous and
psychic power, although less so in physical strength at least compared to other
greater daemons. However, they are the masters of magic, and can conjure up many
magical spells that could devastate whole armies, bringing nothing but destruction in
its wake.
 Horrors - are the most common amongst Tzeentch's daemonic ranks. Arguably the
most bizarre of all daemons in appearance, horrors of Tzeentch manifest as an ever-
changing mass of shifting, gangly limbs with a central torso that normally sports a
cackling or leering face in the centre - though the horror's face can vanish and
randomly reappear elsewhere on their body. There are two classification by
color, Pink Horrors, and Blue Horrors.
 Flamers - Daemonic servants of Tzeentch with numerous gaping maws that
produce the searing flames which give these daemons their name. Flamers excel at
leading assaults on defensive positions, since there is no fortification that can offer
protection against their magical fire. They attack by unleashing roaring gouts of
alchemical fire from their arms. These fires are highly unpredictable, and can have a
wide variety of effects - sometimes burning anything that they come in contact with
to ashes in a multi-hued conflagration, sometimes turning them into frozen crystal, or
even spraying surprised enemies with an iridescent cascade of sweet-tasting liquor.
 Screamers - ray-like creatures that swoop down on foes and cut them apart with
their sharp claws before retreating and charging again. Screamers are very agile due
to their ability of flight and possess a feral but cunning intellect. Though they are able
to use magic-based attacks, their greatest weapons are their so-called warp jaws
which allow them to chew through all kinds of solid matter, even the armor of
knights.
 Discs of Tzeentch - a meld of magic, metal, and daemon, often used as a transport
for a mortal or Daemonic champion, they are said to be bound forms of
screamers. Screamers that are chosen to serve as mounts for a Champion of Tzeentch
are bound in magnificent bands and blades and turned into Discs of Tzeentch. These
 flying daemonic steeds are tied to the will of their masters, combining great mobility
and calculated thinking.
The Maze of Tzeentch

The Great Maze.

The Maze of Tzeentch, also known as the Crystal Labyrinth, is Tzeentch's domain within
the Realm of Chaos. This maze is woven from the raw fabric of magic, threaded upon
deceit and conspiracy. Of all the landscapes of the Dark Realm, this domain is by far the
most bizarre and incomprehensible, for its crystalline structures force travellers to view all
nine dimensions simultaneously. This effect not only distorts the senses of any who intrude,
but also pulls apart their purpose and aspirations and turns them to insanity and despair.

Interchanging, shifting avenues made of pure crystals of every colour crisscross Tzeentch's
realm. Hidden pathways built from lies and schemes lead out from the maze and infiltrate
the dominions of other gods, binding together the fractious Realms of Chaos. The maze
itself has no Daemonic defenders. Its own illusory passages are enough of a barrier to any
intruder not possessed of the strongest mind imaginable. Its glittering corridors reflect not
only light but also hope, misery, dreams and nightmares.
Driven by Tzeentch's unconscious schemes, the labyrinth constantly moves and rearranges.
Those lost within the maze's reaches will wander for eternity with their minds shattered,
their dreams broken upon the wheel of their own failed ambition. At the centre of the maze,
hidden from those who have not the insane insight to find it, stands the Impossible Fortress.
The architecture of the bastion is constantly replaced by new and ever more maddening
spires, gates, and walls. Doors and other entrance points yawn open like starving mouths,
before clamping for eternity moments later, barring all access.

Within the Fortress time and space do not exist at all and gravity shifts and changes, or
disappears altogether. Lights of every colour, some even unknown in the real universe,
spring from the shifting walls. For mortals, who are so locked in their physical ways, the
fortress is impenetrable. Men are driven insane, while their bodies might implode or be
pulled apart by the forces unleashed by Tzeentch's passing thoughts.

Even immortal Daemons cannot easily endure the twisted horror of the Impossible Fortress
and only the Lords of Change can safely navigate its corridors, and tread the secret paths
that lead to the inner sanctum of the fortress, the Hidden Library, where Tzeentch, the
puppet master himself resides, eternally plotting.