After successfully incapacitating the Heavy Stubber on the Arvus Lander Cremutus felt strangely pleased however, with the rallying of the Imperial men into mobs he felt a hint of annoyance creep into his cogitator enhanced brain. Crushing the thought swiftly by turning off his emotional response. These men where just vermin. No matter the size of their horde they where no match for him. He fired into the crowd of Armsmen, loosing 4 bolts and hitting with all, dealing terrible wounds to those he hit. Each bolt was marked with the Tzeentchian symbol, each soul taken dedicated in his name. Each soul taken became one with the many that where tied to Slaughter Spitter. 

Cremutus, cloaked in the souls of all he has slain. Took the appearance of the worst nightmares of the human rabble's dreams. Some saw a towering monster of the void. Others vile xenos, a few just saw the Warpsmith, standing there just... standing there.... and shooting his bolter at them, a guarantee of death himself. 

The armsmen stood stock still, unmoving, unknowning, and unresponsive many simply fell unconscious. The rattings surprisingly where less effected, moving slowly and incoherently they where in shock. The armsmen's sergeant was least effected but was still unable to come any closer to the Warpsmith. Everyone shook in fear.