Warsmith Vhorrax
Great artwork by @george.abalayan who perfectly captured the berserker side of Vhorrax! I wrote down a little story for this piece, but IG limit of characters is too little for me, so I have to put the end of the story in the first comment.
I am one of the few unlucky enough to have served under three different bands of Heretics and one of the few lucky enough to have made it through all of them. Well, for now at least. I was a serf of a venerable Space Marine Chapter, whose name is now too holy to be pronounced by my treasonous lips, sullied by the oath sworn to my new ungodly Masters just to spare my miserable life. I was first a prisoner of a ragged band of mutants and renegades who battled without honor or cohesion so much so that I always wondered how they managed to defeat my pious Masters and stole me from them. I must say my journey with them was brief enough, for soon they found themselves in the grip of the Lords of Night.
Before that day, I thought I knew fear, but I was wrong.
The 8th Legion slaughtered them as one would cattle, flaying the unfortunate who failed to die in the initial onslaught. In the shadow of my new Lords, I persisted for more years than I dare to count, shying away in the bowels of their vessel, living in constant fear of their potential interest in torturing my flesh for amusement. Yet even they fell, and somehow, I continued to survive. The Iron Butchers arrived, one day, bringing the sound of cannons and chainaxes, so loud that my brain seemed to explode, and was soon found useful again for their goals, continuing my life of servitude under new tyrants. Again I survived, becoming old and grey under their iron fist.
