Pink Horrors are the great game played as slapstick. They cartwheel and caper into battle, giggling spells they were never taught, and their pink flames unmake shield-walls while the Horrors laugh at jokes only daemons hear. There is no malice in it that a mortal would recognize — which is precisely what makes it unbearable.
Killing them is an exercise in Tzeentchian arithmetic. Cut a Pink Horror down and it bursts into two Blue Horrors, sullen and vindictive where their parent was gleeful; slay those and they gutter down into smouldering Brimstone pairs that spit sparks until the bitter end. Soldiers who face the Horrors learn that every victory halves in value even as it doubles the work, and that the laughter never actually stops — it just changes register.
Order of battle
