Furies are the basest and most pitiable of all daemonkind, gargoyle-winged wretches that congeal from stray scraps of warp-energy and raw emotion. Mortals name them the Crows of Chaos, and they are born of a particular damnation: the souls of those who wielded the power of Chaos for their own ends yet knelt to no god. Claimed by none of the Ruinous Powers, such spirits are barred from every heaven of the Warp and left to drift forever through the Formless Wastes that lie beyond the domains of the gods.
Barely sentient, a Fury is little more than a fleeting feeling wrapped around a set of claws, and this witless emptiness makes it easy prey for greater powers. Any god or daemon of sufficient will may enslave a flock of Furies, and the wretches reshape themselves to reflect their momentary master, taking on his colours and marks. Their only respite from aimless wandering comes when a daemonic incursion tears open the veil, spilling them shrieking into realspace, where they fall upon whatever living thing they find and vent the boundless spite of the dispossessed before they are banished once more to the wastes.