Chaos Cult - Thousand Sons Cultists: Of the heaving masses that make up the citizenry of the Imperium, most live in desperate squalor, packed into mountainous hive cities where they toil endlessly in vast manufactoria.Generations upon generations live and die in a state of constant fear -- fear of invasion, fear of starvation, and fear of the retribution they will face if they dare to cast off the shackles of Imperial order. These wretched conditions are the perfect breeding ground for dissent and rebellion.In the face of hopelessness, many are swayed by whispered stories that tell of the Chaos Gods and the rewards bestowed upon their followers. Such unimaginable power is tantalising to the powerless, and sets many on the path to damnation.Cults begin to grow deep within the fabric of Imperial worlds, driven by the profane preachings of Chaos-touched demagogues. Though many of these cults are found and eradicated by the Ordo Hereticus, the watchers within the Imperium are not able to have eyes everywhere, and many more of these cults flourish.The cultists hide in plain sight, their drab clothes covering heretical tattoos and symbols they have carved into their own flesh, dedicated to the Ruinous Powers. Their numbers continue to swell with time until the cult has infected large portions of the planet's society, and a collective feeling of destiny gives the members purpose.They begin to gather weapons into secret caches, pilfering from Planetary Defence Forces and crafting makeshift implements with which they can hack and bludgeon. Some are even given visions which reveal methods to piece together crude but effective guns.As their hour of reckoning approaches, the most faithful servants are marked with hideous mutations, and the wretches that behold these gifts offer up their souls willingly in worship to Tzeentch.At last, as the invading forces of the Thousand Sons Traitor Legion approach their world, the cultists' presence is unveiled. In a violent explosion of pent-up wrath they fall upon those with whom they have lived their whole lives.None are spared from their twisted fury, and they carve great bloody swathes through the hab-blocks and manufactorum districts, chanting blasphemies and paradoxical oaths as they rampage. Giant pyres are lit in the name of Tzeentch, and by their burning light the cultists continue to mangle and mutilate those still loyal to the Imperium.Many cities -- even whole worlds -- fall quickly to the sudden influx of cultists, their defences completely overrun by the seemingly unending flood of bodies. But those that somehow are able to stem the tide of violence face an even greater threat, as the thrallbands of the Thousand Sons begin their inexorable march.Inferno Bolter fire and crackling beams of eldritch energy fly over the teeming throngs of cultists, while tanks and Daemon Engines tear through ferrocrete walls to allow the stampede of tainted Humanity to continue.The sheer volume of cultists allows them to soak up a vast amount of returned fire without losing momentum, and the sight of Rubric Marines and sorcerers on the battlefield sends them into a religious fervour -- for these ornately armoured Chaos Space Marines are like walking saints, come to bless the cultists for their loyal devotion.Whatever hope a cultist may have derived from their profane worship is inevitably false. They are but pawns in the plans of the Thousand Sons, meat to clog the wheels of the Imperial war machine.Should they live through their initial uprising, no great reward awaits them. Those who survive may be taken by the thrallbands to other war zones where they will again be sent to die on the front lines.Others are transported to the Planet of the Sorcerers to serve as slaves or to be used as subjects in arcane experiments. Still more are simply overtaken by their own mutations, and become gibbering Chaos Spawn.