Once a proud Human Noble of House Dallek, now nothing but dust and a burning hatred of man exists within Ezekials ancient armour. Left to roam the dark north when a patrol he lead into the heart of Kvelligs to rescue his sister turned bad and his men abandoned him, the Kvelligs natives thought it more fitting to let the wretch wander the wild outskirts and fend for himself than to merely be executed. For 8 years Ezekial wandered the wastes, every time ending back at Kvelligs, to be run out of town once more back into the desolate bitter dark cold that had already began to alter Ezekials now Gaunt form. His eyes glowed red, his helmet had fused to his head and his armour bled at the joints every time he fought, veins started to form in his armour as it grew to his flesh and began to look like it and he gained the strength to fell a troll with his bare hands, slowly he was being molded into a living weapon, and little by little the whispers from some far off place began to overtake his thoughts, "kill them all" it urged his frail mind. It took Kvelligs more than 4 years to recover from the loses suffered by its warrior regiments when Ezekial returned for his final time, not a man was spared that dared to stand against Ezekials bloody rampage, men were piled 10 deep on the streets, moaning corpses tore at thier own flesh and writhed as the Bane of men collected skulls for his throne......Some 300 years on and Ezekial still collects his lords bounty, doing the great work of Khorne the almighty and purifying the filth that is man from the old world, but now he leads his band of bloodthirsty men and beasts into the heart of the old world....invited....only he's warband is smaller, and war now has a ball, if only it was usefull.......