The Hung are a nomadic oriental race of hunters and gathers, shorter and squatter than the people of Cathay but otherwise resembling them. The Hung are perhaps the most easternly of all the Northmen tribes, inhabiting the lands of the Chaos Wastes to the north of Cathay and the chilly lands of Naggaroth in the New World. The Hung are considered horsemen par excellence, and they breed tough, small horses on their cold mountain slopes which would survive where larger southern warhorses would starve. They ride these into battle when they attack the more civilized lands to the south, such as the petty yet equally barbaric Kingdoms of the Dark Elves. Perhaps out of all the people living within the Far North, the people of the Hung are perhaps the most primitive of them all. Even though their brethrens in the West have built themselves a selection of settlements and massive fortresses, the people of the Hung can amount themselves no better then primitive hunters and gatherers, with little to no concept of even the barest forms of civilization. Instead, these wandering nomads scour the land in search of plunder and battle to substain themselves, and such is their reputation that the people of Grand Cathay built the mighty Great Bastion, one of the largest walls ever created for the sole sake of keeping these barbarians from destroying their very kingdom.
On the other side of the world, there are other Humans who serve the Dark Gods. Separated from the Kurgan by the Great Desert, they are often contained to the lands north of Cathay or across the land bridge in the northern reaches of the New World. Like the Kurgan of the Eastern Steppes, the Hung raid their neighbours, mounting attacks against the fabulous cities of Cathay or the sinister cities of the Dark Elves. They are almost constantly in a state of war. The reason is simple. They believe the purpose of their existence is to fight, to kill, to slaughter. By fighting amongst themselves, the Kurgan, and others, they glorify themselves and their Gods.
Like the Kurgan, the Hung are nomads, but instead of riding horses, they use tough ponies bred for endurance and survival in the harsh climes of their hunting grounds. These people live in the saddle. Some say they are even born there. Each member of the tribe carries on his stout steed a filthy woollen tent and everything he needs to get by. The Hung see all members of their tribe as equals and make no distinction between men and women. There are many smaller tribes including the Yin, Chi-An, Tu-Ka, Mung, Aghols, Wei-Tu, Man-Chu, Dreaded Wo, and the Kuj, though they are all part of the Hung.
Though they owe their allegiance to the greater tribe, the Hung honour no promises and abide by no pacts. They are famous for their treachery and for their willingness to kill each other as well as others they meet. They are a sly people, cunning in their dealings and quick to double-deal. For example, they might encircle a town and promise to leave the town unscathed if the people give over their daughters. Once the town complies with their wishes, the Hung butcher the townspeople and burn down all the buildings simply because they can.
They have a taste for fine things, so they snatch up gold, silks, even gaudy ornamental rugs, which they display proudly whenever they settle in to camp. Despite their pretence, they know nothing of civilisation and are an unsophisticated lot. In truth, they are not much more than simple hunter-gatherers, and the hunting aspect forms a cornerstone of their culture. They see each hunt as an opportunity to prove their strength and courage, so they prowl the dark places of the Chaos Wastes looking for some deadly Spawn or mutated creature to kill and bring back as food. One thing the Hung do value more than treasures are their hunting dogs. They keep a vicious breed of canine that’s so abused and malnourished it’s hardly recognisable as a dog. Their cruelty instils a sense of loyalty in these stupid beasts, so they run alongside their masters in battle, savagely tearing foes apart. The Hung extend the same treatment to their steeds, which they feed a mixture of grains and Human blood to make them fierce and unpredictable.
The Hung’s territory does not produce much in the way of food, so their diet can be macabre. They readily devour game and fish, but when the hunting is scarce, they feed on rats, insects, even the lice on their bodies. Some witnesses report seeing these savages devour the afterbirth from a mare’s foaling. And failing that, they drink the blood from their steeds and even turn to cannibalism if necessary.
One might think that the Hung would leave their lands, given its conditions—and they do, but only to raid. They remain in their hunting grounds because they believe the Gods dwell in all things there. When lightning strikes, they see the image of the God of Blood. In their own leavings, they see the God of Decay. As a result, they keep no shrines or altars, though they do construct monoliths as the Kurgan do. Instead, these foul people honour their Gods by praying to rude idols or offering them thanks at mealtimes by rubbing their meat and broth into the coats of their steeds.
Most recently, many Hung have fallen under the control of Morathi, the Dark Elf Hag Queen and mother of the Malekith the Witch King. To reinvigorate the cult of Slaanesh amongst her people, she and a coven of cultists travelled north to wrest control of the Hung for her own sinister purposes. A great many tribes joined her and followed her south to Lustria, though to what end, none can say.