The Collected and Collated Annals of the battles, wars and conflicts of Aurish Prime: Part 8: The Lament

...Forth he strode, the Reaper

Turning from his own kin

He took up axe and voice

Cleaving even his own

Blood runs, blood runs,

No longer clad in grey

But stained in betrayal

Ruined bodies fell around

He strode amongst the pack

And death was his aim

Took heads, the Reaper did,

Took heads as his own

Even his Lord’s head

He that had raised him

From whelp to wolf.

Till in the end he lay

As one dead amongst the dead

With one last breath

He cursed the all-father

Renounced all that is sacred

And in doing so was damned

For this killer of Kin,

This reaper of men,

Spoke and out of the void

A thing of chaos answered.

And when he stood

He was not what he was

For he was dead and yet

And yet he still walks.

His is the harvest of heads

His the responsibility of reaping

Damnation is his reward

Battle his only solace

No joy for him in kin

Nor celebration of victories won

For he is the Reaper of Khorne,

And he has turned his back

On the Pack and Kin

And the All-Father.

So listen well, my young pups!

Even our greatest can be turned

For temptation wears many faces

Can even be the smile of a trusted friend.

As for us, we hunt him who hunts us

For to our shame he and his own

Were once part of us.

[Fragment, The Lament for the Reaper]