On the eve of war, Witch Elves drink blood laced with poisonous barbs, driving them into a divine frenzy. Yet ceremonies are but a part of the Witch Elves' worship - their truest observances take place upon the field of battle. Still-beating hearts are ripped from victim's chests and hurled into fires, writhing flesh is daubed with gore-red runes and altars are decorated with the entrails of dying captives. Their observances to the Lord of Murder are blood-slicked affairs. Witch Elves are the cruellest of all their heartless race, for they live only to serve Khaine's malevolent demands for bloody, agonising sacrifice.
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