There were victory celebrations, that much I can remember. The sort of debased, bottom-scraping indulgences they never let us have back before we became traitors. The alcohol flowed, and if some guy or girl in the Rivers strayed too far from a group they usually disappeared. Then the blood and other body fluids flowed.
I woke up on some busted old bed in the remains of what was the Planetary Governor's palace, some of my blood-and-filth encrusted clothes half-draped out a nearby window. My head was ringing and as I groaned and rolled to my left, I came eye to eye with what I thought was one of those Sororitas. For a moment my heart skipped a few beats, and I damn near made a mess of the sheets.
It all came back slowly. She was one of those holy ladies once, but she realized she liked burning and cutting things more than actually praying. Now she was just like me, only with more tattoos to Khorne and a rusty nail put through her lip.
"Hey there beast" that fallen lady grinned, before kissing me on the cheek and giving me a big ol' scar in the process with her 'jewellery', "You guys were phenomenal"
"'You guys'?" I groaned out, whilst rubbing my cheek. It was then I became aware of a shuffling behind me, and hurriedly I rolled over.
There was Khârn, still in full armour, reading a newspaper that was a week old, a cigarette jammed in his helmet's respirator.
"Heck of a lay" the fallen sister remarked.