Editing Ulfhednar


''"It is the right of the strong to take from the weak. The right of the great to take from the poor. Until we find someone stronger, greater, we take what we please."'' 

- Beoulf Nidthson, Lord of the Ulfhednar

''"Death to the false Father! Death to his whimpering lapdogs!"'' 

- Ulfhednar Battle Cry

Lost to the Warp during the Horus Heresy, driven mad by Tzeentch and stolen by Khorne, the '''Ulfhednar''' are the lost sons of Russ. Brutal in war, uneasy in peace, the Wolf Skinners are nightmare made flesh. All that the Inquisition claims of the Space Wolves is true of the Ulfhednar, and worse, and they are hunted relentlessly throughout the Imperium. 

The Curse of the Wulfen is common among the Ulfhednar, and even the "normal" members of the Pack have succumbed to their bestial nature, feasting on the flesh of their kills in the midst of battle, and discarding weapons to attack with fang and claw. While the Ulfhednar have no allies, they are particularly reviled by the Thousand Sons as a legacy of the burning of Prospero, and, of course, the Space Wolves themselves.

== Saga of the Lost Wolves ==

In the aftermath of the Battle of the Alaxxes Nebula, during the frantic rush to return to Terra, only a single Space Wolf ship was lost. The ''Bonegrinder'', under the command of Wolf Lord Beoulf Nidthson, disappeared into the Warp, lost to the Ruinstorm. Their deaths were mourned, vengeance was promised, but the war ground on, and soon, they were forgotten. 

But not by everyone. Adrift in the Warp, the ''Bonegrinder'' caught the eye of Tzeentch. Seeing an opportunity to turn the greatest champions of the Imperium against it, he began the slow process of driving them mad. Beset with visions and magics, Beoulf and his men were convinced that the Emperor they had followed as the Allfather was truly Morkai, Wolf of Death in disguise. They began to believe that Russ himself, and the other members of the Rout, had been misled and irredeemably corrupted. Slowly, over the course of thousands of years, the Ulfhednar succumbed to Chaos, and the weak were culled from their ranks by constant daemon attacks until only one hundred remained. Finally, their corruption was complete, and they were released into the Eye of Terror, to burn and reave. 

Their story would have ended there, merely one band of maniacs among thousands, had Khorne not taken note of them. The Ulfhednar were killers beyond compare, cannibals and barbarians, and not worthy of the Changer of Ways. The Blood God sent World Eaters, Daemons, and cultists against them in droves, and though they slew near half of the Ulfhednar, they too were slaughtered by the dozens. As the lust of battle fell over them, the Ulfhednar pledged their loyalty to Khorne, abandoning Tzeentch, who's claim they did not know. 

As the 41st millennium drew to a close, the Ulfhednar finally returned to the galaxy, howling war-cries and lusting for blood. When the Cadian Pylons were silenced, they slipped out, and have begun their relentless march to Fenris, burning and slaughtering all in their path. Their wounded rise again, howling into the night, and their dead are ripped apart in a frenzy of feeding. Whether they truly worship Khorne or not is uncertain, but the Blood God does not care, for they do his work and demand no gifts. Their numbers are few, their armor scavenged and aging, but they come for their "errant" brothers, and they bring the Wolf Time with them.

== The Last Great Wolf ==
Beoulf Nidthson is the packmaster of the Ulfhednar, and a fierce warrior of the Horus Heresy. Armed with his great axe, the Edge of Winter, and bearing the Arkhorn, Beoulf is a terrifying enemy. While he is ancient and truly mad, he has lost little of his former tactical genius, and is adept at stepping in and out of the Warp to bring death to his enemies. Appearing in the midst of his foes with a gust of frigid air, he lays left and right with his axe, crushes skulls with his great shield, and disappears once more into the Warp. 

Beoulf's horn is sounded but once each battle, and as the long note dies, his warriors appear, striding through foes like gods of death. Lightning crackles, howls rip from ancient throats, and blood fountains, steaming in the frigid air that accompanies them from the Warp. They are as hard and swift as the winter wind, and as cold and heartless as a frozen lake.