[i]Blood. Kegorak recognized the smell of blood before he saw the church. The sweet, metallic taste rested at the edge of his tongue like a warm ambrosia tempting him to drink. He would not give in to his selfish gluttony, however. Such debaucherous behavior would be falling to the lure of the Prince of Pleasure: Slaanesh. The wretched Chaos God and his vile fiends were an affront to Khorne, the furious God of War. Kegorak was a patron of this red-handed God, a warrior who knew rage and fury at such levels that would make a king kneel if demonstrated. Yet, victory was unobtainable through sheer rage alone. Centuries of training in battle and strategy resided in the Berzerker’s mind, ready to be coaxed out of a blood-stained whirlwind of flesh and metal. He honed in on the aroma, and it only became stronger the closer he came. Like a bloodhound, he found the church in no time, and upon entering it his mouth twitched upwards in a smile. The expression felt alien to the warrior, but he could not stop himself from admiring the Executioner’s work. He smelled far beyond the iron, tangy blood now. He smelled the fear and terror in every patron squashed to paste beneath a fell hammer. He smelled their last words echoing through the concave interior of the church. He smelled the giddiness and content the woman exuded like a foul puss. She would make a worthy opponent. [spoiler]OH BOY GETTING BACK INTO COMBAT [/spoiler][/i]