Very angry dude

The Warshard thrust Anaris towards the Ynnari, a pulse of crimson light springing from the flames. Where the fey illumination fell the spirit of Khaine boiled, setting in the hearts of the afflicted. Guttural shouts tore the skies and the Khaine-touched beat their fists upon the ground and their chests.

THE BLOOD WILL FLOW!

Thus commanded, those bathed in the terrible flamelight of the Widowmaker turned their weapons upon their own, the whisper of splinter rifles and sigh of shuriken catapults setting the air trembling as they opened fire on their unliving comrades. The battlelust spread like a disease, passing from the mind of one to the next, a bloodthirst cancer that took Commorraghan and craftworlder equally.

Ghost Warrior