Skarr Bloodwrath, Daemonic Lord of Khorne began killing in Khorne's name from the moment he was strong enough to heft an axe, swiftly garnering a reputation of a bloodthirsty butcher of the worst kind.
While still a mere whelp in the eyes of his fellow Skaramor, he slew their tribe's chieftain in a brutal display of violence. Though this was far from their first skull that Skarr had claimed for Khorne, it was the one that drew the vast and terrible eye of the Blood God. Stood over the corpse of a rival twice his size, Skarr roared in agony as the rune of Khorne branded itself upon his beating heart.
Though the tribes of Skaramor did not deign to challenge the weak peoples of the south, Skarr found no shortage of foes to battle in Khorne's honour. The Chaos Wastes rang to the sound of Skarr's war cries, and as the years passed so his legend grew. Skarr cut down Ungolor of the Tahmaks with insulting ease. He hacked the heads from the Greatspawn Wythlych, before hurling the abomination from atop Bloodfire Falls. It was Skarr who fought for twenty years amid the daemon-thick morass of the Blood Marshes, and he who felled the Keeper of Secrets T'shy'thnis below the Infinite Arch.
Unstoppable though Skarr was, none could fight with such raging abandon without eventually being slain. Yet death proved not to be the end for this champion of Khorne.
Skarr met his first death in the lair of the Chaos Sorcerer Vydas the Liar. Skarr slew every one of the Tzeentchian magus' nine hundred and ninety nine worshippers, only to be sliced in half by Vydas' crystal blade. Yet Khorne judged the blow a cowardly one, struck from behind a veil of sorcerous illusion. Thus, the Blood God breathed fresh life into his champion that day.
Skarr's mortal form burned away to nothing, only to be reborn from the pooled blood of Vydas' followers. Skarr surged up from the bloody lake, huge daemon axes on brass chains clutched in his white-knuckled fists. Hurling his new weapons across the shadowed chamber, Skarr sunk both blades deep into Vydas' unnatural flesh. Dragged with horrible inevitability into Skarr's embrace, Vydas the Liar pleaded and squirmed. By way of a response, Skarr tore his foe's throat out with his teeth. Glittering blood sprayed in a wide arc, before Khorne's champion ripped one axe free and lopped the sorcerer's head from his shoulders.
Skarr Bloodwrath has died many times since that day, but always Khorne has brought his champion back to life through the spilled blood of his foes. In return, Skarr reaps such a tally of skulls that none can keep count. Starr is one of Khorne's most favoured, savage to the point of madness, devoted to nothing but slaughter in the name of his merciless deity. In battle, his chain-linked daemon axes whirl about him in a hurricane of blood and death. Those who follow him must keep pace with his murderlust, or else fall by the wayside, their skulls in turn offered up for the glory of Khorne. One by one, they are all cut down. Eventually only the gore-soaked Skarr remains, to gather new followers and lead them to war once more.
Incessant resurrection has its price, however. With each bloody rebirth, Skarr has lost a little more of himself, His grasp upon reality slipping with each step upon the road to daemonhood. These days, Skarr needs no sustenance save combat. He does not sleep, and the fire in his veins is such that he could never rest even should he wish to. His fury is endless, his hunger for battle a constant clamour that drowns out all consideration of strategy or caution.
So lost to Khorne's rage has Skarr become that none save Archaon Everchosen can command him. Even then he only bends the knee at Khorne's behest, his form trembling every moment with the barely suppressed need to kill. To Archaon, Skarr is nothing but a blunt instrument, a living weapon to be wielded unto destruction. Skarr, lost amid a red haze of bloodlust, could not care less. Khorne demands slaughter like never before, and Skarr Bloodwrath will deliver it gladly.