Armilus, leader of the Precepts of the Immaculate Emperor's Children warband, a prideful, vain, ruthless, and cunning narcissist. He believes in beauty in all things and the sacredness of his own flesh and form. As such he abstains from much of the hedonism of the other members of his legion. Because he's flawless and anything that would mar this perfection is revolting.
Armilus' chambers are high and vaulted, decorated with fine paintings and frescoes painted by the lord's hand. Each a near perfect and photo-realistic rendering of impossible phantasmagoria landscapes. Or idealized depiction of forms, animal and human. One that was never allowed to be depicted, even in his own work, was his face. For no artist could possibly capture his magnificence. Either of form or presence No for that there were great columns, walls, and ceilings of pure polished crystals of varying hues to capture the bizarre sunsets of the daemon world. Allowing the light to halo the reflections they cast. Showing the lord as he truly is in all his perfection, beautiful, and wreathed in the divinity of his being. Witchlights bottled in deep rich perfumed liquids hang from the ceilings casting glittering lights of reds, pinks, and purples. Often Armilus would walk these halls naked. Not for the boorish pursuits of physical pleasures the Bull engaged in. No this was to admire the perfect sculpting of form, the effortless confidence it took to walk unarmed and unarmored in the Warp.
