Sergeant Vorain (from the book Ragnar Blackmane by Aaron Dembski-Bowden) "A fine weapon. Its blood-marked blade shone in the hazy light drifting in through the stained-glass windows. Once they had shown a scene of the primarch Sanguinius in all his glory before the Eternity Gate. Now the scene was half lost to darkness, choked by jungle creeper vines growing against the fortress’ walls, blackening and strangling the primarch’s armour. The axe weighed next to nothing in the Flesh Tearer’s hand but its presence was soothing all the same. An echo of a time when survival was the only question, and triumph the only answer. Around him, the tribesmen were slowing in their efforts away from the towering warrior. They faced the demigod in their midst with narrowed eyes and clenched teeth, clutching their weapons tighter. The Flesh Tearer cast off his robe with a shrug of his huge shoulders. The tribesmen shrank back further, raising their own brutish blades. There were thirty-one of them in total. It took Vorain fifty seconds to kill them all. When his bloody work was done, he stood in the middle of the chamber, listening to the lifeblood of the unworthy aspirants sluicing through the gates in the floor. The slashing hiss of running blood soothed his irritated headache somewhat. None of them had managed to even block one blow. No matter how hardy Cretacia bred its hunter-sons, only one in a thousand was worthy of wearing the Chapter’s red and black. Vorain cast the stolen axe to the life soaked stone floor in disgust. ‘Another unworthy harvest after all,’ the Chaplain agreed." (с) Stage of picture readiness 3/3 Artstation | Deviantart | VK | Commission List