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He currently leads his own World Eaters warband called the Butcherhorde. Rimmed with the unbreakable teeth of a Mica Dragon, this fell weapon continually rises and falls as it severs heads and claims skulls. He is the avatar of Khorneembodying the Blood God’s indiscriminate rage and bloodlust in the realm of mortals. Like his World Eaters comrades, he emerged from the gruesome psycho-surgery experiments of Angron, having underwent butcuerhorde lobotomisation, with buctherhorde sense of fear and danger removed so that the rush he experienced in combat was greatly enhanced.
He is drawn by the scent of war as a hungering hound is drawn by fresh meat, khzns it has become impossible to tally his slaying. His fellow World Eaters carried away his lifeless remains and fought their way back to their dropships.
Fighting against the Emperor’s Childrenthe World Eaters needed just one more victory over Btucherhorde ‘s warriors before the planet could be claimed in Khorne’s name.
The battle had to be won before Butcherhorre long, frozen night drew in and killed victor and vanquished alike. Yet the World Eaters could gain no ground against their foes buutcherhorde were hurled back time after time by the devastating Sonic Weapons of the Noise Marines. He cut down those who tried to stop him and marched into the gloom, consuming the city in flames as he went and slaughtering all that he found, friend or foe. Anarchy engulfed the World Eaters as they fell upon each other, and the Legion was irrevocably split into hundreds of individual warbands.
Ten millennia later, during the 13th Black Crusade in He was born upon Terrathe cradle of humanity, and was one of the first Neophytes to be recruited, becoming a part of the nascent War Hounds Legion.
After butchdrhorde selection, he was trained under the scrutiny of Centurion Gruner upon the training grounds of the War Hounds’ vassal world of Bodtalong with the other Neophytes assigned to his instruction.
A Terran-born veteran of Jermanic descent of the Unification Warsthe grizzled Master butherhorde Neophytes was a formidable warrior within the Legion. Gruner’s torso rippled with superhuman strength, sporting an elaborate tattoo of a canine predator tearing into its prey. Though the Neophytes’ own enhancement surgery scars were still fresh, they were deemed ready to begin their Legionary training. All War Hounds were expected to compete in The Contest and the rules were simple: No one had ever come close.
It would be a lesson he would carry with him for the rest of his khnas. At that time he was described as a deeply bronzed warrior, with a long and noble face. Angron, enraged at his “rescue” at the hands of the Emperor of Mankind which he perceived as the basest of betrayals toward his fellow gladiators, had been sealed within a cargo hold after being brought aboard khanss XII Legion’s flagship Adamant Resolve. Convinced that they could change the Primarch’s mind the captains and commanders of the War Hounds entered the hold to make their case.
Angron immediately fell upon him, and both warriors engaged in a brutal hand-to-hand brawl. In the end he found himself supine, battered and broken at Angron’s feet. With this show of courage, he managed to reach out to Angron, who stayed his hand, realising that the Space Marines of the XII Legion were not the honourless rabble of worthless warriors he believed them to be. In the end it was this calm bravery that won him Angron’s respect, and allowed him to convince the Primarch that mastery over the Legion was butcheghorde a collar to be worn around his neck, but a mantle of power to be worn on his mighty shoulders -— a mantle that would grant him the freedom to stalk across the stars in an endless war of glorious bloodshed.
Yet there were many, both amongst the World Eaters and outside it, butchrehorde, while they respected Angron’s choice, doubted its wisdom: Any words of tempering he might have uttered were quickly forgotten in the rush butcherorde battle. The process of his corruption is not detailed — “I am the Bhtcherhorde Path,” he told Loken, a description of the Butcehrhorde philosophy dedicated to freeing the individual from attachments and delusions ending in an understanding butchrehorde the truth of all things eight being the sacred number of Khorne.
Six solar months after the Emperor sanctioned the Scouring of ProsperoThousand Sons Captain Menes Kalliston led a squad of his Battle-Brothers to the ravaged surface of their homeworld to search for any signs of survivors or of their Primarch Magnus the Red.
Instead, the squad of Gutcherhorde Sons was taken by surprise when they encountered a much larger force of Traitor World Eaters who were also on Prospero for their own nefarious reasons. When Kalliston finally came to, he discovered that he had been shackled to a chair, his innate psychic abilities severely weakened. He was interrogated by an individual who remained in shadow. Catching furtive glimpses of his tormentor, through bleary eyes Kalliston thought he made butcherhorve grey-coloured Power Armour, and assumed that his captor was one of the hated Space Wolves Astartes who had destroyed his homeworld.
Kalliston’s tormentor desired to know the Thousand Sons captain’s purpose for returning to Prospero. Kalliston eventually realised that his tormentor’s armour, which he had thought to be grey in the near-total dark, was actually a dirty white. The shoulder-guards were once a bright blue, though every exposed surface on the battle-plate was covered by a translucent layer of brown-red filth.
To Kalliston the new name was ludicrous, a perversion of everything the Legiones Astartes stood kans. As Kalliston’s clarity returned to him, he slowly realised that his interrogator stood on the brink of madness. As butcherhodre scrutinised his tormentor further, he could make out a series of iron studs implanted under the flesh, further up on the scalp.
These neural implants had been forbidden by the Emperor to be used by Astartes and had been prohibited for good reason. They accelerated an Astartes’ aggression and stoked it, amplifying an already testosterone-charged superhuman killer into a truly savage murderer.
Withdrawing an iron pendant from his armour it was fashioned in the shape of a wolf’s head howling against a crescent moon. Once a part of the Warmaster ‘s Power Armour, it had been used as part of a sorcerous ritual by the Thousands Sons’ Primarch Magnus the Red to make contact with Horus, and could be used to do so again.
An agony that could only be discharged by murder. As the Thousand Sons captain pressed the agitated World Eater for answers, his psychic powers slowly began to return to him. Kalliston realised that the World Eater had come to Prospero seeking certain arcane devices that might be able help him find a cure for his affliction. For though the sorcerous devices once used by the Thousand Sons had all been destroyed, he possessed the necessary knowledge to replicate their functions.
He could help heal the World Eater’s broken mind, remove the neural implants and restore his ebbing humanity. Kalliston knew that the World Eater was lost in a universe of pain, one that was only temporarily forgotten during the act of killing, a common affliction for those who fell to the corruption of the Blood God Khorne. He attacked the Thousand Son captive with a roar, intent on rending him limb from limb.
Kalliston desperately called upon his remaining psychic reserves of power and managed to free himself from his bonds and launched a series of mental attacks against the enraged World Eaters officer. None would ever master him, for he had lost mastery over himself and become a true mortal embodiment of the Blood God’s unending and unthinking thirst for death. During the brutal assault, the Ultramarines managed to lure the enraged World Eaters into a trap as they assaulted the main quarter of the ruined capital city, collapsing buildings and burying many of the World Eaters and their Primarch Angron in tons of rubble.
The Primarch’s twin Chainaxes were ruined, as they had lost their teeth during the brutal fighting. After Angron managed to crawl from the strewn rubble, he threw his axe Gorechild away, for it would never function again. He knew he risked his Primarch’s wrath by violating Angron’s superstition of inherited weapons bringing ill luck.
This was a gladiatorial conceit taken from Nuceria. Not all of the teeth were found, as the planet was terminated in cleansing fire before the excavation was completed. He was the first of his Legion to breach the walls of the Imperial Palace, and claimed more skulls for Khorne than any other World Eater. His fellow World Eaters carried his corpse away with them as they fought their way back to their landing ships. Their foes would fall, or they would offer themselves to Khorne in their stead.
It was during this time that the former Equerry would become both legendary and infamous amongst the berserk warriors of his Legion. The first thing the World Eaters required was a home within the Eye of Terror, a place from which to build their strength and strike back at the hated Imperium. It was a search that would lead them to the Daemon World of Skalathrax.
A cursed place once inhabited by the Aeldari before the Fallit was also coveted by the Emperor’s Childrenwho desired the ancient xenos ‘ Soul Stones for their debased god to feed upon. However, the presence of the Legions had broken the ancient equilibrium of Skalathrax, and as they struggled an unnatural cold crept in from the void.
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Horrified by the conditions that affected even their superhuman metabolisms, the Traitor Astartes of the Emperor’s Children and the Butcherhrode Eaters agreed to a temporary ceasefire, and both sides took to their shelters, for the freezing night brought conditions so severe that they could kill even a Chaos Space Marine in a matter of mere moments during the deepest portion of the night. Enraged when he saw his fellow Legionaries creeping back to their shelters like cowards, he took up a Flamer and used it to destroy the shelters, starting a fire that soon burned out of control, and he rampaged through the dying world killing both World Eaters and Emperor’s Children with equal fury.
His Flamer burned many Legionaries to ash as his Chainaxe Gorechild slayed those who tried to stand against him. Undeterred, the berserker leapt at butcherhored foes. He then whirled around and clove through the Bolter of the third assailant before slamming him insensible to the ground. The Chainaxe bit deep into the throat of the last Astartes, arterial blood spraying into the air. He was the last to be borne away from Terra, his body broken after he had slain one million butcjerhorde the False Emperor’s lackeys through the breach at the Lion’s Gate.
None would ever surpass his tally of kills. The Contest was finally over, and he had been its victor. Filled with disgust for his fellow Astartes’ weakness, the Chosen of Khorne beheaded his former training officer and continued to slay Emperor’s Children and World Eaters alike throughout Skalathrax’s murderous night, earning him the title of “the Betrayer,” single-handedly shattering his Legion’s unity and reducing it to scattered, individual war bands of Khornate Berserkers. These shattered remnants of the Great Companies of the XII Legion would never reunite and fight as one again until the time of the First War for Armageddonand would remain divided for the next ten millennia.
Though Khorne enjoys all forms of murder and violence, none are as precious to him as those inflicted in butcherhode quarters, as it is the truest test of a warrior’s abilities, unsullied by advanced technology or psychic trickery.
The Betrayer turned the sharp edges and hard surfaces of the factorum to his own violent ends, impaling screaming Imperial Guardsmen soldiers on grinding gears or flaying the skin from their faces by pressing them on butchefhorde conveyers. Such was the carnage that the vast manufactorum ground to a halt, its workings clogged with the mangled remains of over a thousand pulverised corpses.
During the mayhem and carnage of the 7th Black Crusade in For several bloody solar minutes the Betrayer fought alone against a dozen Blood Angels Terminatorsuntil the rest of his warband flooded onto the Space Marine vessel.
During the 13th Black Crusade in Human heads are the most desirable, but any able opponent is a worthy offering to Khorne. These crazed butchers live only to murder and kill, the taking of life for the Blood God the singular meaning of their existence. If it should come to pass that Khorne calls for their skull, they give it willingly, offering their necks while screaming out his name. So long as he draws breath he will offer up lives to the Blood God, until at last he gives his own.
Armed with a Plasma Pistol and his ancient Chainaxe Gorechildhe butcyerhorde able to tear through armour, flesh and bone with ease. Khorne cares not where the blood flows from, only that it flows; and neither does his champion.
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Khârn the Betrayer
He needed a weapon that would never bite the hand that feeds. The World Eaters were not that weapon. We’ve all drawn blades purely for the sake of shedding blood, and we’ve all felt the exultation of winning a war that never even needed to happen. Khanw are not the tame, reliable pets that the Emperor wanted. The Wolves obey, when we would not. The Wolves can be trusted, when we never could. They have a discipline we lack, because their passions are not aflame with the Butcher’s Nails buzzing in the back of their skulls.