Clad in bloodstained dresses, operating with a manic and twisted fervor for tidiness, leaving only strangely organized gore scenes in the battlefield. Led by a brutal and merciless leader known as the Blood Matron.
"When Guilliman was five years old, he smashed the door to his study( which was crafted from bronze and weighing at least three tons) in a fit of rage. It was the only time Tarasha Euten pulled his ear and made him stand facing the wall."
The perfect organism. Its structural perfection is matched only by its hostility. I admire its purity. A survivor… unclouded by conscience, remorse, or delusions of morality.