Lord Ghroul's arrival was not a gentle one, heralded by the cry of the Headsman's Axe and Warpfire as he was pulled through the warp. The fires of his rage didn't die down until the closest cultist felt the teeth of his axe. Surrounded by the remains of an enemy that barely fought back killed his mood, bringing his fire back to ice. Giving a dismissive grunt, Ghroul left the meat to the scavengers and looked upon the being above him.

[i]"Erebus."[/i] he rasped through a ravaged Vox com, this wasn't the first time he had met the Dark Apostle.

Lord Ghroul had seen the man several times throughout the Heresy, always by Horus' side and whispering secrets into his ear. At the time Ghroul couldn't appreciate the Architects methods, being a slave to the Butchers Nails as he was, but with clarity came appreciation. His scheming lead to many battles against the Corpse Emperor, none of which have matched the scale of the Battle for Terra. Back then he was behind the betrayer, Kharn, when the World Eaters broke through and the real slaughter began. What the Architect now offered, a chance of redemption for his fellow legion and honor for Khorne. Well, he wouldn't disappoint.

When the Plague Lord spoke it ground against his frayed nerves, hitting every point and saying all the wrong words.

Bringing the spiked end of his axe into the floor, Ghroul rasped [i]"Your rotton god will not claim the Corpse Emperors head plague worm, the skull throne will have his skull even if I have to pry it from his shoulders!"[i] His fist tightening around the haft in preparation for battle should the plague worm wish it.