The Deathsworn were among the strangest and most feared of the Sixth Legion's brotherhoods, warriors who had glimpsed their own ending, in a priest's rune-casting, a wyrd dream, or the whisper of the wild in their blood, and thereafter set themselves apart from their kin. Marked as already dead, they took a vow of silence and were loosed upon the tasks from which no return was expected.
They fought without fear because fear had nothing left to take from them, throwing themselves into the deadliest breaches and the most hopeless stands with a cold and terrible calm. The other Wolves regarded them with a wary reverence, for the Deathsworn walked with one foot already in the halls of the slain. In the Heresy they were spent where the fighting was fiercest, a doom made flesh and hurled at the enemies of the Emperor without hesitation or remorse.