Abominations loom several man heights over the head of even the tallest mortal. Their gore slicked limbs spider out from its bulbous, distended abdomen and thorax. They are instruments of pure mayhem on the battlefield, scuttling forwards and reaping a bloody toll with their scythe like appendages, leaving only bloody ruin behind them. Survivors speak of a keening whine, just on the verge of hearing that pervades their memories, a sound that registers deeper than the cries of their fallen comrades. This is the only sound an Abomination can make, the only sound it is allowed to make: a keening howl to convey the depth of their misery and torment.