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  • File :1243266369.jpg-(229 KB, 600x900, Chaos%20Warrior[1].jpg)
    229 KB Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)11:46 No.4657327  
    Is it possible to live a semi-normal life as a champion of Chaos, /tg/? Fall in love? Have a girlfriend? Make babies? Or is it all ONLY SEX YOU GET IS SLAANESHI ORGIES, and none of the other Chaos Gods care about letting you have relationships?
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)11:46 No.4657331
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    >Champion of Chaos
    >Semi-normal life
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)11:48 No.4657340
    I don't think it's as much a case of the gods LETTING you do stuff rather than you yourself wanting to do any of those things yourself with your twisted mind.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)11:49 No.4657350
    Well, you can try. If you continue to devote a huge chunk of your time to Chaos-related things, I'm sure they'd allow the occasional indulgence. If you don't, though, expect for your new personal life to be constantly meddled with. Suddenly needing BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD mid-sex, for example.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)11:50 No.4657357
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)11:56 No.4657411
    Champions of Chaos are just as bizarre in WHFB as they are in 40k...
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)11:57 No.4657415
    Theoreticaly it is possible for champion of chaos to feel love, considering that chaos is basically the reflection of thoughts and emotions. However, GW never even hinted at this in any fiction.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)11:58 No.4657424
    I'm now envisioning a huge, spiky CHAOS WARRIOR in full armor living in a suburb, with a squeaky-voiced, adorable waifu and a hellbaby. He has a deep-seated domestic rivalry with his next-door neighbour, a Warrior Priest of Sigmar. This is mostly restrained by trying to outdo each other in various aspects of gardening, and shooting mean glares at each other at Home Depot.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)11:59 No.4657434
    As a champion probably not, if you're favored you've spent almost everything and all your time earning it, and likely don't care about a 'semi-normal' life, only power. Now mauraders and mere worshipers are much more likely, and some champions probably... retire, after a fashion.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:01 No.4657445
    if you could slaughter thousands everyday and kill or conquer all that crosses your path and the final reward would be demonhood itself where raw power is yours to use.... would you want a grilfriend instead ?
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:01 No.4657448
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:01 No.4657449

    Gotrek and Felix has a Champion of Khorne ordered by her Daemon handler to kill her daughter as proof that she's left her mortality behind. However, once she stops actually caring about it, she automatically passes.

    So, I guess you can love as long as your boss doesn't care, and as long as it doesn't interfere with your job.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:02 No.4657462

    No they aren't, because they're actual humans instead of Space Marines. Which makes them considerably more awesome.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:03 No.4657467
    writefag senses tingling!
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:04 No.4657478
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    Dude, this is /tg/.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:06 No.4657484
    well, it'd be easier than all that killing and conquering.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:06 No.4657487

    With all my raw power, shouldn't I be able to get a girlfriend? I mean, surely I'm not that unloveable, right? I obviously have a career and all, but I'm a sensitive guy!
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:08 No.4657495
    Nah, Book that came with the warhammer fantasy game showed that one of khorne's blessed had a son whom he raised and was proud that he had his regeneration abilities. He was scared that he'd never get the chance to die by his sons hands. Also they have the story of a kid who was a beserker who cired because he accidentally blood raged and killed another kid and ran home to dad. Dad was sooo proud.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:08 No.4657498
    >Suddenly needing BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD mid-sex, for example.

    Will breaking hymen do?
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:08 No.4657503
    using raw power to get girls or to turn people inside out. tough choice.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:10 No.4657520
    surely Nurgle Chaos marines would, seeing as it's a massive family with Nurgle anyway.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:11 No.4657524
    You know, I've been thinking about it, and sure, Chaos Champs are very powerful, but I doubt they can turn people inside out. Sorcerers are the ones who do that, Champs probably just stab things really hard
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:14 No.4657550
    stabbing is good. I would like doing that to all kinds of people and fantastic creatures. Girls are cool too, but stabbing and cutting stuff to small pieces sounds so much fun.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:16 No.4657565
    Again, yes you can. But if you are a motherfucking champion of chaos, you are unlikely to care about such trivial stuff.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:16 No.4657566
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    You can only do that once. And let's not even get into what Nurgle would ask.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:17 No.4657578
    Let me tell you about the Path of Chaos.

    You're either on it, or off it.

    Once you're on it, you can never get off. To get further up the ladder, you must dedicate yourself to your God/s. To go down the ladder... well, you can't. You can never go back down.

    Anyone more powerful than a Warrior of Chaos has three destinities:
    1. They die in battle, for their God.
    2. They become Daemon Princes and one with their Gods.
    3. They faulter. Before they can even think "oh shit, what have I done", they mutate into horrible hideous Chaos Spawn.

    Chaos requires you to sacrifice your humanity in its name.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:18 No.4657590

    You're one of those underage b& who think that "LOL RANDUMB VIOLENCE IS KEWL ^_^"

    Get out. You faggots are ruining Chaos.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:19 No.4657603
    Fund it with fucking Bollywood. We'll be rich men.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:20 No.4657607
    No, he's just a Khornate. Propably life went tough on him.
    Don't you have anything better to do, Slaaneshi faggot? masturbating to penises or something?
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:20 No.4657608

    Holy shit, Chaos, with a sense of other than stabbing.

    brother, what is your warband
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:23 No.4657636
    Can someone who ISN'T a Slaaneshi have a harem? Live it up? I mean, you need SOMETHING to do between pillaging Kislev and gutting your rivals.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:23 No.4657637
    Slaaneshi faggot ... so true :))
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:25 No.4657648
    Jesus fucking christ, do you really think that having a harem is the only point in life? How about... dunno... ambition?
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:25 No.4657652
    To begin with, yes.

    Then as you serve your God more and more, they suffer for it. They get slaughtered, used as ritual sacrifices or used as rotting plague farms and you won't give a shit because the only thing you care about is your God.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:26 No.4657653
    and stabbing
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:26 No.4657656
    At low levels of Chaos worship, yeah, it's perfectly possible to have a family, and love, and have a perfectly normal life.

    Once you're into Champion territory, then no. You've abandoned all the trappings of a normal life in the quest for raw power. You'll have to live far away from "civilisation" because the Taint of chaos will be so obvious that you can't remain hidden.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:26 No.4657662
    You know, I think "my Khornate girlfriend" could be an interesting story. Some heretic's girlfriend is "blessed" with a few mutations and the batshit craziness of Khorne, so the only way she can lead a semi-normal life is by constantly being heavily sedated. Most of the time, she's all sweetness and puppies, but only because she's only dimly conscious. But if he ever forgets to give her her dose...
    >> I CLUB SEALS 05/25/09(Mon)12:27 No.4657667

    Living with Khornate Cultist....

    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:28 No.4657670
    There's an article from Liber Chaotica that fits this perfectly.
    I'll fetch it.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:28 No.4657676
    You've got my attention. Get to it!
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:29 No.4657681

    I opened my limited edition copy of the Liber Chaotica: Slaanesh.
    There are 300 copies.
    Mine is number 69.

    Okay, I will find the passage now.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:30 No.4657688
    This reminds me of the Khorne debate in which if it was something other than MAIM BURN KILL MAIM BURN KILL! That's why I enjoy the old fluff of 40k in regards to the chaos gods. Each one was described as having a positive and negative attribute, such as Khorne having honor and the warriors virtue, along with anger and violence. They sort of kept that with the Skulltaker, who would challenge people in battle instead of just mindless RIP AND TEAR.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:30 No.4657691
    Hmmmm, aren't Chaos Champions AUTOMATICALLY railroaded into a very short, spastic road to power that will either lead them becoming a Daemon Prince or leading the semi-normal life of a tentacle monster?
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:31 No.4657692
    >>find the passage
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:31 No.4657695

    "Just tell him how you feel. Say exactly what you said during our last session." "Jim, I love you, but it hurts me when you say you don't want to convert to the worship of the Blood God. That's why I get so angry, dear, I didn't mean to cut up your azaleas."
    >> Continued 05/25/09(Mon)12:34 No.4657710
    Hear now the tale of Lothar and Johaan von Gottlieb, raised to fine silks and soft leathers. In their mortal lives, they craved power, glory, success and all that accompanies such - much as other men do. They were ambitious like their father, but of him I shall speak no further, for the old Baron is not yet in his grave.

    Darkness was in the hearts of these brothers. They listened, watched and learned; but they understood little. Slaanesh seduced Lothar, whispering His promises of pleasure beyond pleasure. To the second son Khorne promised nothing, but Johaan demanded nothing. He had already killed and found it to his taste.

    How these brothers grew to despise each other! How lamentably does love oft times turn to hate!

    Did Johaan chase Lothar, seeking his blood? Or did he run from the unwholesome pleasures Lothar sought in his company? It matters not. Their hatred drove them from their home, into the waiting arms of their dark new gods. Each chose to climb the slippery ladder of Chaos, hatred their first handhold, loathing of a brother their first step.

    "Such a short and easy climb!" crooned Slaanesh.

    "A true warrior has no fear!" bellowed Khorne.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:34 No.4657714

    Listen, kid, I was Khornate back when it meant honor and tactics. I was Khornate back when it was BALLS-OUT MANLINESS instead of dumbfuckery. I was making flails from the spines of my enemies back when you were still feeling dirty over the pictures in that human-skin book you found.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:35 No.4657719
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    >> Continued 05/25/09(Mon)12:38 No.4657739
    And so the scramble for power began. A scramble that would end in but one of two ways: the triumphant shriek, voiced from the throat of a newly-born daemon, or the gibbering of a once-man, spawn of Chaos, wallowing in the stench of its own failure, condemned by Providence and abandoned by Mercy. But which fate is the worse? Who indeed can say?

    Johaan von Gottlieb. Murderer, hater, willing servant of Khorne. His bloody road led ever deeper into Chaos. He was unwise when he first killed, and with each new slaying his folly only grew. Each death marked him as Khorne's own, each drop of blood raised him higher in Khorne's sight. But it was his last killing as a true man that marked him out: Johaan's slaughter of one of Khorne's own champions.

    Johaan bellowed his victory to the sky. The slain champion's blood was for Khorne, but the champion's armour of darkest metal, forged in the far off smithies of Chaos, was for Johaan. Johaan's handhold was firm, his reach was long enough for the climb ahead. In that moment the darkness within him burst free, and two terrible horns, curved like those of a ram, sprouted from his temples. Johaan was marked as the Blood God's servant.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:39 No.4657747
    But are you a Khornate now?
    >> Continued 05/25/09(Mon)12:43 No.4657773
    And what of the other von Gottlieb? There were many roads to Chaos, and Lothar galloped along his chosen path with surpassing zeal and fervour. Nothing was beyond him. No creature, no man, no woman or child, living or dead, was safe from his depravity. But his loyalty was hidden from the eyes of others. Fools would wonder why Lothar always wore gloves, and pitied that one so youngshould have rheumatic fingers. But in truth, the creature within had shown itself and Lothar's long, clever fingers had grown sharp, curving talons. The first mark of Slaanesh had been made, and Lothar bore this blemish with misguided pride.

    Many indeed are those that debauch themselves in the name of Slaanesh, and Lothar fell in with one such sect. He rose rapidly in their councils, for his mind was more than apt to their purposes. He was inventive and quick-witted and he amused his colleagues with the originality and vitality of his contributions to their cause.

    As Lothar climbed in secret stature, his loyalty became ever more visible. No longer were his hands his only Mark. He bore the new blemish in the most horrific fashion. His tongue had ever been persuasive - a seductive lure to the unwary - who he used for his pleasure and worship. And so it remained his snare, but no normal man had such a long and twisting thing within his jaws. The lashing of his tongue become dangerous indeed!
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:44 No.4657778

    Some things never change. Khorne knows loyalty. He may not know mercy, but then, neither should you, if you want to walk the blood-slicked path. Khorne is honest with you. Despite what those Slaaneshi harlots think, the joy of constantly testing oneself against the world, of sharpening yourself until the grindstone breaks, never fades. The new generation may not know what it means to be an honorable, intelligent warrior...but that does not mean we have forgotten. It does not mean we have forsaken the old ways.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:45 No.4657784
    I'd think a good portion of chaos types do. The whole thing with Slaaneshi is that they take pleasure to insane, jaded extremes... for instance, a Slaanesh spess muhrang that travels from world to world tainted by chaos, combing countless planets to find rare, beautiful mutants with a single special mutation. Also, Slaaneshi seek extremes of deprivation, denial, and pain nearly as often.

    A Khornate, on the other hand, might only be attracted to warrior women or arsonists. He might have a private coliseum and dress up a harem in faux berserker armor and real guns and chainsaws, and pit them against IG POWs armed only with flashlights as foreplay.
    >> Continued 05/25/09(Mon)12:47 No.4657794
    Lothar fled, the witch hunters chasing at his heels, until he reached the Northern wastes and the Chaos that lay beyond. Already a champion to the cause of Slaanesh, he turned and slew his pursuers, cursing forever the lands of his birth.

    From then, Lothar was freed to wander and despoil as he saw fit and he embraced Slaanesh with renewed vigour.

    As for Johaan, his way was ever upward in the favour of Khorne. His ruthless course was marked inblood and skulls - blood for the Blood God; skulls for the Throne of Khorne. Death had no rest where Johaan chose to walk.

    As reason slipped away from him, Johaan burned with hated for all those too weak to take the warrior's path. This hatred gnawed at his heart, finding expression in the changes that time wrought on his face. Where once there had been a young man proud of his looks, there became only Johaan the Beast. Where his face had been handsome, it now stretched into a snarling muzzle of a great hunting dog.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:48 No.4657799
    Both of these ideas are fantastic.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:49 No.4657808
    "NO! I must kill the furries!" Johann shouted.

    "No Johann, you are the furries." Khorne said.

    And then Johann's face stretched into a canine muzzle.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:50 No.4657816

    To continue, it's not just all about the stabbing. If I were a philosopher, I might suppose that this is the true rift between us and the servants of Tzeentch, we know that not ALL change is progress, only constantly testing ourselves to grow stronger, to defeat more and more worthy foes, to prove who the true masters are, is the sole marking of improvement. Anyone who's in this gig just so that they can giggle while they cut up prostitutes is in the wrong camp. We came here to fight.
    >> Continued 05/25/09(Mon)12:50 No.4657817
    Johaan's new visage was the match of his nature. He had become a hunter of men and he himself was no longer a man. Only the outer shell remained, for within he was Khorne creature, both mind and soul.

    Blood and slaughter had brought the Blood God's favour, and further blood kept Khorne's approval. And as Johaan's grew in power and climbed ever higher, his place amongst Khorne's Chosen was distinguished in new ways. The higher he climbed, the further was his reach and the more savage his behavior became. Ever and anon, when the weakest of his warband hesitated at their master's callousness, they were themselves to be counted amongst the fallen.

    And as his triumphant progress continued, Johaan lost the last pretence of his human form. Two new arms sprang from his shoulders and his unearthly armour, forged from the stuff of Chaos, writhed and changed to match his new frame, and so became ever more intricate and elaborate.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:52 No.4657828
    its maim kill burn, not maim burn kill, that just sounds odd
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)12:55 No.4657857
    I'm curious, do you know of ANY 40K stories or books featuring Khorne having an honorable aspect?
    >> Continued 05/25/09(Mon)12:56 No.4657859
    The other von Gottlieb had also achieved much. In a secret ritual Lothar had, for his devotion to Slaanesh, been granted armour of his own. It was fashion from pale leathers, perhaps the magical skins of daemons and angels, but its supple appearance was deceptive. It formally marked Lothar as one of Slaanesh's Chosen, a despoiler and taker of pleasure.

    His status was equal to that of his hated brother Johaan, although this hatred had become almost-forgotten baggage from his past. He did not think often of the past, for remembrance of what he had been brought realisation of what he had become. For by no means were all the taints of Slaanesh infections of the spirit. Lothar's flesh had been prey to the mutation of his calling, and as his chosen Patron rewarded him, his physical condition began to prey upon his mind, diverting his thoughts from the pleasures at hand.

    Johaan had no diversions. Thought, the curse of weaklings and the disloyal, was driven from his mind in a welter of gore and destruction. His climb was sure and his path awash with the blood of those that he had slain in his Master's name. He had scaled the heights of his devotion to the Blood God, and yet his journey was not yet over. In his still-mortal hands, he clutched a daemon blade, a creature of darkness given new shape with a keen and blood-hungry edge. Its clawed hilt grasped at Johaan's loyalty and held him steady.
    >> Continued 05/25/09(Mon)13:02 No.4657907
    Armed and armoured in Khorne's colours and in a manner pleasing to himself, it had been a long time since Johaan had passed as a normal man. But why would he want to? He had the strength of many men, and a bloodlust and animal cunning to match the most feral of beasts. His mind compounded and knew not the meaning of doubt.

    Doubt breeds doubt, and Lothar's uncertainty was indeed prolific. His thoughts weighed him down, as did the pain of his newest transformation. Lothat's eyes, as cunning as his tongue at weaking the resolve of his oft unwilling victims, were merging into a massive and singular orb. Possibly Lothar's alteration was a punishment from Slaanesh, for a neglected lover is vengeful indeed.

    Lothar paused in his climb to power and discovered anew that an upward path sometimes has no safe downward course. Trapped and helpless, doomed to climb further yet lacking the faith and the courage to take the final steps, Lothar slipped. His thoughts, so full of pleasure and pain, so ravaged by plague and doubt, finally mastered him, and he fell from his state of disgrace and plunged into the abyss of the used and the discarded. Stronger men than he had dashed themselves upon the rocks of Chaos, and a weaker creature than he would have ended its own existence than face Lothar's fate amongst the Spawn. Yet Lothar had a strength of his own' as he fell, his purpose in serving Slaanesh was reborn and in his changed nature loyalty flowered again like a rank weed. Even as he changed into a monstrous creature, Lothar shrieked his eternal allegiance to his darkling lord.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:04 No.4657920
    This is why I don't like Khorne. You lose your mind. I prefer Tzeentch because you get power AND you get to keep your mind, if not your sanity.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:05 No.4657927

    Slaves to Darkness/Lost and the Damned
    Second Edition Chaos Codex
    Older Chaos Fantasy Army Books

    I didn't get around to the Liber Chaotica Books so I don't know for sure about them.
    >> Continued 05/25/09(Mon)13:07 No.4657944
    Lothar's frame was tormented and warped into an inhuman form. He had been a champion, a daemon awaiting birth, a prince awaiting his crown, and yet he was condemned to a horrible and mindless existence. A wattled crest grew from his brow, his cyclopeaneye became stalked, tentacles, tipped with cruel claws, sprang from his shoulders, his torso swelled to enourmous size and two more legs grew from his hip, hairy and twisted as those of a goat. His fall from humanity was complete.

    Even as Lothar's fall was ending, so too was Johaan's climb. This, the second von Gottlieb, had also been twisted further by Chaos, and a tail, tipped with a snapping human face, waved at his back. Yet such a minor Mark was of little consequence to Johaan. The last hand-hold was taken, the last scramble made, and the mortal Johaan slaughtered the last victims. He had kept his awful faith with the Blood God and had earned his final reward. He had reached the summit of his bloody ambition.

    Khorne's faithful servant screamed the news of his victory to his master. Johaan, once a man, was born anew into daemon flesh. Vunerable mortality, his rightful inheritance, had been cast aside. He became a servant of Khorne in all ways an was now truly an immortal creature of Chaos. He was filled with a daemon's cunning and thirst for destruction, a craving that had no mortal equal. Johaan had ascended the pinnacle of darkness, and all his wildest dreams were within his grasp. Deathless, an eternity of blood stretched before him...
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:09 No.4657959
    Tzeentch is my favorite chaos god. A big one is the duality -- his followers are the ones that pass for normal or even as intelligent the most often, but he's the one most prolific in his gifts.

    Also, at least in Lost and Damned, his followers are portrayed as most often dressing like Kefka-esque pimps.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:10 No.4657965
    Khorne will let you have sex as long as its brutal rape and when you climax you pull the vicitms head off
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)13:10 No.4657969
    And eternity had, in its turn, cast aside Lothar von Gottlieb - also once a man. Yet still, pains and pleasures of which he had never dreamt were his for the taking. The pleasure of warm flesh, torn from its own and the pain of howling cries filled with loss to an uncaring sky.

    Lothar and Johaan von Gottlieb. Regard them in their fates. They craved power, gory and success and all that acompanies such - much as other men do. They were ambitious, and the way they chose to satisfy those ambitions is open to any others who dare to take it.

    But think on this: Lothar, the decadent and depraved fool, runs with the Spawn, and Johaan thinks and acts with the mind of his Master. Sowhere and in what is their victory over Chaos? Where now are the free men, Lothar and Johaan?

    Where indeed?


    And, done.

    Hope you enjoyed it, folks.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:12 No.4657982
    Yeah, thanks for posting it.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:14 No.4657996
    Thought it was relevant.
    It shows just how single-minded you have to become - otherwise, you suffer Lothar's fate.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:14 No.4657998

    Well played, sir. I just wish there were as much written about Nurgle as the other gods, but it seems he's doomed to be a sideshow.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:16 No.4658005
    Epic story.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:16 No.4658010
    Are you kidding? Nurgle is the god with the best fluff, even if it is limited in quantity. Have you forgotten about the CARNIVAL OF CHAOS?
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:18 No.4658022
    Yeah, definitely. >>4656749 should consult it.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:18 No.4658025
    I'll try and find somethng for you lovers of Nurgle.

    I've got Liber Chaotica: Slaanesh, a limited edition of Liber Chaotica: Slaanesh and Liber Chaotica: Undivided.

    So I can find something cool enough.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:19 No.4658028

    It's good, yes, but it feels as though the other gods get preference whenever they need a bit o' fluff.

    Also, i haven't read that, mind sending me in the right direction?
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:21 No.4658046
    Got anything from Tzeentch? I think he would have the wackiest stories to tell.

    "Ok kids, this is the story about how I ended three kingdoms, helped a guy score with hot chick who was actually a trap, and drove an old grandma batshit crazy, all with a small wooden spoon."
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:22 No.4658049
    We've got a choice, chaps:
    - Fentor the Tainted
    - Valnir the Reaper
    - Love from the Son is Measure of the Father

    Make a wish.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:23 No.4658053
    I'll do one for Tzeentch after the Nurgle ones.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:23 No.4658057
    I remember reading a fucking psychedelic piece of fanfic about Plague Marines and how horrified they were by the enemy's use of flamethrowers. Not for their own sake either. "Millions of tiny deaths."
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:25 No.4658064
    It's not so much a good piece of fluff, just a really cool Mordheim warband. I'll post it here in a second - with rules too, if you want?

    Fentor the Tainted. Seen the character, never read the fluff.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:25 No.4658069
    What if I choose to worship Chaos Undivided?
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:26 No.4658079

    I'm the OP from that thread, and yeah, that was fucking AWESOME. I know in the long run, I'll be fucked over, but...I'd rather go out like Johaan, you know?

    Personally, though, I'm not sure Johaan is a typical example. I know there are at least some Khornate demons who are supernaturally charismatic, clever, and quite sapient. Gotrek and Felix has that one story with the female Chaos Champion whose patron, while urging her to remove her mortal attachments, DOESN'T tell her to become mindless.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:26 No.4658083

    plus, can you be championed by undivided? I know archon was, but I figured that was a VERY special case
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:28 No.4658092
    do want
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:28 No.4658095
    Yes, you can be championed by Undivided. And no, it's not boring. Path to Glory gave you the opportunity to renounce Undivided and take up a God, or renounce a God and take up Undivided, but only once.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:29 No.4658103

    To become a true Champion of Chaos Undivided you must embody both light and darkness. Might and cunning. Success and failure. You must be poised to crush entire worlds in your grip, yet have no arms.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:31 No.4658109

    Well, you either can pick a god and then defeat their champion to gain their respect and following or just be a massive bad ass that all the gods want a piece of to start with. I imagine it is more difficult for followers to move past the worship stage of Chaos as an idea to the champion stage.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:31 No.4658113
    Fentor it is.
    >> OP 05/25/09(Mon)13:32 No.4658124
    There was that weird proto-sociological piece about Nurgle and the plague and how people's rejections of plague-sufferers makes it worse. Seemed out of place when the correct course of action is obviously to shun them for their lack of faith.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:33 No.4658127
    There's the Nurgle Beastman page as well, but that doesn't really work for you because it's not like Beastmen can have normal lives anyway.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)13:36 No.4658143
    Born to a family of farmers in a poor community northwest of Sigmar's Empire, Feytor was the eldest son of a widowed mother. Though he had not yet seen his twentieth year, he was the eldest of his brothers and so the day to day running of the farm fell to him. Life was hard for the family, much harder still when their rgion was struck by the harshest winter in decades. Snow lay on the ground for sixth months and more, freezing crops and killing livestock. The previous year's harvest had been a poor one and so so the starving people had to rely on food supplies coming from other areas of the Empire. Yet all to often the passes were blocked by poor weather conditions and when the caravans did get through, the food was often spoiled and there was never enough to go around. Entire villages and towns starved to death.

    Banditry became increasingly common, as peasants became more desperate for sustenance. In this time of extreme hardship, a new terror struck the already disheartened people: plague.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:37 No.4658149

    Dark carnival?
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:39 No.4658160
    I see what you did there
    >> OnlyFoolsTakeSomethingPostedHereAsFact 05/25/09(Mon)13:41 No.4658169
    > PLAGUE [spoiler] Nurgle times now pl0x [/spoiler]
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:41 No.4658171
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    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:41 No.4658172
    Yeah, I guess. It's a Mordheim warband based on the travelling fairs of the Middle Ages. They're affiliated with Nurgle.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)13:42 No.4658177
    The plague was swift and deadly - it could consume entire villages in a matter of days. Those who contracted the illness died in torment, their bodies bloating with great welts and boils bursting all over their flesh. So fearful were the people of this contagion that when one of Feytor's younger siblings began to show the early symptons, all the neighbouring families immediately abandoned their lands and began the long trek to Wolfenburg, where they hoped to find shelter. Refusing to leave their meager holdings, Feytor and his family cared for the sick child as best they could, resigned to the fact that the foul seed of plague was already within them.

    Each day, Feytor would pray devoutly for deliverence from the terrible disease, his pleas directed towards any deity who would listen. To the astonishment of the family, his prayers seemed to be heard, for the boy did not perish. Feytor's brother soon recovered enough to be able to walk though his skin was still bloated and discoloured. Feytor also bore the mark of the disease, for his hair had begun to fall out in great chunks. His skin became pallid and sickly and dark rings crept around his eyes. Nevertheless, the family lived and they sent silent words of thanks to whichever deity had come to their aid.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)13:45 No.4658207
    Seeing Feytor's sickly appearance, the ignorant farmers scorned the family, whispering darkly about him and his kin and refusing to conduct trades with them for fear of catching disease. In a short space of time Feytor's family found themselves desperate with hunger and cold and wee forced, at last, to abandon their home. On the road, travellers steered clear of them and Feytor's frustration and anger increased as he watched his family grow weaker. Nobody gave him a chance to explain that they were not plague carriers and that their sickness was not in any way debilitating. Indeed, Feytor had found that his sickly flesh was now increasingly resistant to cold and main.

    After bein run out of countless villages and towns unsympathetic to their plight, Feytor eventually led his family to a cave at the base of the Grey Mountains the West of the Empire. Game was plentiful, proviing Feytor and his family with food and furs. For a time, they were happy although the seeds of resentment had been planted deeply in Feytor's heart.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:48 No.4658226
    Good old grandfather Nurgle. Funny how he seems like the least desirable in many ways, yet he is the only Chaos god that cares about his followers.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:49 No.4658236
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    Oh you. The guy with the :)) smileys.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:50 No.4658237
    Fuck yeah Nurgle!
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)13:52 No.4658243
    At dusk one day after hunting, Fetor was returning with his kill ove hishoulders when he saw hoof prints in the snow leading up to the cave where his family waited. Dropping the eer in the snow, he raced after the tracks. In the clearing before the cave entrance he found the burnt husks of his brothers, sisters, and mother chained to blackened stakes. A group of men stood watching the grisly scene, scarves tied over their faces. Blind with rage, Feytor raced into the midst of them, striking out with his hunting knife, plunging it deep into the neck of the first man. The others turned in surprise, their eyes filled with horror. One of them barked an order to kill the plague carrier. Fury coursing through his veins, Feytor laid around him with his callused fists, ignoring thhe blows of the swords that bit into his flesh. One by one, he struck the men down, killing the final one by smashing his skull into a boulder. Then grief finally took Feytor, and he sank into the snow, burying his head in his hands.

    When he came to his senses, he felt drained. He surveyed the bloody scene, his burnt family surrounded by the bodies of their murders - soldiers of the Empire, wearing the yellow and crimson tabard of Ostermark. Their bodies were bloated and open sores had burst over their skin, though such was Feytor's despair he paid this no mind. There was nothing for him to live for now, and he knew that he would hunted as long as he lived. Nevertheless, Feytor chose not to submit to fate. He rose to his feet and set off to the North, for no better reason than it seemed the right thing to do. Soldiers and witch hunters dogged his tracks. After almost month of pursuit they caught up ith him.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:52 No.4658246
    I'd kinda think Nurgle the second most desirable... with Khorne it doesn't matter that you're not sick because you're a mindless killer, and Slaanesh... urk.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:55 No.4658256
    I'd definitely choose Nurgle.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:55 No.4658261

    nope, for chaos warriors there's only flip out and kill/torture, nothing else.

    when they die, they go to hell and are eternally buttfucked by demons

    just like atheists & moslems in real life
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:56 No.4658267
    Nah, Nurgle takes care of his worshippers.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)13:57 No.4658268
    Feytor fought with the strength of his bitterness and the indomitability of his despair, and the soldiers never returned to their homeland. Feytor disappeared from the Empire history books, living only as a story told around the fireplace on col and dark nights.

    The sagas of the Northern barbarian tribes, however, tell of a sickly man coming into their land, pursued by many weak Southerners. Intrigued, the Norsemen left the sickly one alone. Unsure as to what his coming meant but having seen it in a vision gifted by the gods, the chieftain of the WOlf Brothers tribe chose to watch the stranger, following him as he entered their lands and took up residence in a rough cave. The stranger had shrugged off terrible wounds inflicted by those who had pursued him and the Wolf Brothers were impressed by his resilience. After several weeks, the tribe decided to approach him.

    Many of the Norsemen that I have met recount the meeting of the Wolf Brthers and the stranger as an important part of their histories, for this meeting had a considerable impact on their culture. After his coming, many of their people turned towards the Wworship of Nurgle, and a number of mighty champions of Nurgle rose, bringing glory and pride to the Wolf Brothers.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)13:58 No.4658279
    You will be consigned to an eternity of playing harps in Heaven with insane eyeball creatures, for suggesting that the honorable infernal host would engage in buggery. I BID YOU GOOD DAY SIR
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)14:03 No.4658303
    If you are a chaos champion, you most likely got to be one because all you wanted to do for all your life,was to, PILLAGE, RAPE, EAT RAW MEAT AND WINE, KILL, DRINK BLOOD, RAPE, STICK AXES IN PEOPLE, RAPE, DID I MENTION RAPE?
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)14:03 No.4658307
    The Wolf Brothers eventually embraced Feytor as one of their own when he bested one of their strongest in a bare knuckle fight. It was through the guidance of the tribe shaman that Feytor came to realize that it was undoubtably Nurgle himself who had protected him from the plagues and it was this same divine being who had filled him with the strength with which to avenge his family's killers. Learning all that he could about his protecter, Feytor began to worship Nurgle in earnest.

    Several years after the Wolf Brothers had welcomed him, Feytor began to push for the tribe to expand, so that it would be strong enough to begin raiding the Northern Empire, and lands of Kislev. Their chieftain, Svolos Wolf, consistently rejected and ridiculed Feytor's wishes until eventually Feytor had no other choice but to challenge Svolos for leadership. The two met in unarmed combat. Svolos was tall and broad shouldered, a mighty warrior and a veteran in many such battles to overthrow him. He thought that he would be done with Feytor quickly. He was wrong.

    Svolos struck Feytor with mighty blows that snapped the sickly man's head backwards time and time again. But Feytor merely grinned and waded through the heavy punches, ignoring blows that would have incapacitated another man. Feytor bore Svolos to the ground and rained an avalanche of heavy blows into the chieftain's face as the Wolf Brothers watched in silences.

    Fists dripping with blood, Feytor eventually rose from the Chieftain's body and claimed leadership of the tribe for himself.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)14:08 No.4658337
    Immediately upon being declared the new chieftain, Feytor began to approach neighbouring tribes, proclaiming to them that he carried the word of Nurgle, and that they must join with him. WHen the tribes refused to swear allegiance, their warriors and children were struck down with disease and pestilence, both with equal ferocity. Again, Feytor approached them, telling them to accept their condition and forsake their own gods for the benevolence of Nurgle, for only by doing so would they be saved. In this manner, Feytor's warband grew as ever more of the neighbouring tribes swore allegiance to him.

    The followingdecade saw an exponential growth in Feytor's power and influence in the region. His body grew ever stronger and he was now almost immune to pain. The devotion of his followers, most of whom had followed Feytor's lead to worship the Lord of Decay, ensured that they too would become a force to be reckoned with, terrifying their foes with their deathly appearance and supernatural resilience. A sickly cloud of yellow fog and buzzing flies followed them wherever they went, and few could stand against them without terror in their hearts. Feytor knew that the time would soon be upon him when he would be strong enough to enact his revenge upon the lands of the Empire.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)14:12 No.4658358
    This is so awesome. Nurgle is great.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)14:13 No.4658369
    Feytor's warband became known amognst his enemies as the "Decayed Ones" and his warriors were only too happy to embrace this title, forsaking their old name of "Wolf Brothers". Their reputation was grim indeed, and they thrived upon the fear they instilled within their enemies. Many of the original members of his warband still ived, though their wolf pelts and leather armour had been replaced with heavy harnesses of moulded iron. They sought out the most feared warbands of the North, and met them in battle beneath the roiling skies. Always were the Decayed Ones victorious, and always did they leave a single survivor of their conflicts. Infected with all manner of diseases and hideously deformed, this survivor was released to spread plague and the news of Feytor's coming.

    Then in the Imperial year of 2518 Feytor saw a sign in the heavens that would change the course of his whole life. A twin-tailed comet arched across the night sky above him, poiinting towards the North-East of the Empire, and in that moment, it is said that Feytor was gripped by a waking vision. He was to travel in the direction that the comet had pointed out, to a range of distant mountains. There he would find the mightiest horde ever to have been raised in the name of the Four Powers, and he would meet the great Uniter who had bound them together. Archaon, Lord of the end Times. It was clear to Feytor that Father Nurgle wished him to set aisde all animosity he and his people might feel to the servants of rival Chaos Powers, and swear his allegiance to Archaon.


    And that's Feytor, chaps.

    Tzeentch next?
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)14:14 No.4658375
    I have to admit, Nurgle is tied with Tzeentch for my favourite. He actually seems like a really nice guy.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)14:16 No.4658384
    Feytor is such a badass, and this only enforces that Archaon is the ultimate badass. Who would ever choose the Empire over Chaos?
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)14:18 No.4658403
    I'm not sure about Archaon being a badass.

    This just seems to barely shoehorn Feytor in as a servant of Archaon.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)14:19 No.4658411
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    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)14:22 No.4658438
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    mechanical horses
    bald priests who heal people by being very angry
    bright colors
    cod pieces
    *gigantic* cod pieces

    and ridiculously ornate armor.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)14:23 No.4658452
    We've gone over Slaanesh and Khorne in one story and Nurgle in another.

    That leaves Tzeentch.

    We can choose between the Apostate van Horstmann, or Aekold Hellbrass, with Aekold Hellbrass being considerably longer and will probably end up giving me arthritis.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)14:26 No.4658481

    Yea, the explanation was rather weak tbh. They were really faced with the dilemma of trying to humanize the enemy while at the same time having him be repulsive. In the end they could have done better imo.

    Anyway, Bring on Tzeentch!


    Shitstorm incoming.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)14:26 No.4658485
    Those guys are both prety cool. If I'm right Aekold Helbrass is the guy with the magic sword that mutates A LOT and Van Horstmann is the Empire mage who pulled a troll on their secret artifacts and rides a Chaos Dragon?
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)14:28 No.4658500
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    >>We've gone over Slaanesh and Khorne in one story >>and Nurgle in another.

    >>That leaves Tzeentch.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)14:28 No.4658501
    Archive request for one fa/t g/uys hard work.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)14:29 No.4658510
    Horstmann sounds more exciting. Do him.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)14:29 No.4658512
    Aekold Hellbrass: Former Templar of Sigmar who is bursting with so much change that wherever he walks, he creates life.
    Apostate Vann Horstmann: Old wizard on the search for ultimate knowledge, empowered by Tzeentch and rides on a Chaos Dragon.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)14:31 No.4658529
    Horstman it is. Coming right up.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)14:31 No.4658534

    Apostate Vann Horstmann sounds cooler but Aekold Hellbrass is more interesting. Do him.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)14:33 No.4658542
    Hellbrass! Hellbrass!!
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)14:36 No.4658573
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)14:37 No.4658577
    Thanks man.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)14:37 No.4658581
    Somewhere in the region of the Screaming Hills stand the Silver Towers of that most despised ofall sorcerer covens, the Cabal of Egrimm van Horstmann. Many times have my brothers and I sought to find and destroy these Towers and, more importantly, their sorcerous occupants. Every such venture has ended in failure. The Silver Towers are wrapped around with subtle yet powerful enchantments that I have not yet managed to pierce. Thus the Towers remain impossible to locate. They cannot be seen in the daylight hours, and throughout the night, when they are fully visible and therefore more vulnerable, they shift and travel across the landscape, vanishing and reappearing at random. Even a person with no understanding the complexities of bending the Wings of Magic to his will must surely realise the virtuosity required to maitain such an enchantment as this. This in itself hints at the terrible power and skill of the Towers' dreadful occupants.

    Within these Towers reside some of the most feared sorcerers ever to have blighted lands of men, and all of them are the marked champions of the daemon-god Tzeentch. I cannot think of a single magister within any of the Colleges of Magic who would not want to know and foil, whatever it is the sorcerers of the Cabal plot and plan within their Towers. We know that they study and practice their blasphemous arts endlessly (in much the same way as we acolytes of the Imperial Colleges do our own more wholesome magics), and we know that the Cabal seek to auger the moment when the storm of Chaos will arise against to the North, so that they might add their own considerable might to the cause of the next Great Uniter at the best possible moment.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)14:37 No.4658582

    0/10, go home to /b/
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)14:37 No.4658584

    Personally, I'd choose Tilea.

    Fuck yeah.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)14:42 No.4658617
    Although my order has agents and spies watching all the roads for a dozen leagues in every direction around the Screaming Hills we have not yet had any success in capturing servants of messengers going to and from the Cabal's hiding place. Indeed, its my belief that the Cabal do not put any of their plans to paper, or perhapseven speak, so particularare they about keeping their nefarious plans secret from the prying eyes of the Colleges of Magic and Sigmar's Templars. For my own part, I have evidence to suggest that the Cabal communicate via other more clandestine means, perhaps using some kind of talisman or even by transmitting their thoughts directly to each other's minds. I will find out which before long.

    The undisputed master of the Cabal is Egrimm van Horstman, Van Hostmann is the most infamous of the Imperial Colleges' few known apostates, and he is my own Order's greatest shame, for there was a time when Horstmann was counted amongst the brightest and most talented magisters of my Order. Indeed, Horstmann was the last occupant of my own position as patriarch of the College of Light - burn his eyes!

    In his day, Horstmann was acclaimed as the youngest and most gifted magister ever to have presided over one of the Empire's Colleges of Magic. As he knelt down to swear his allegiance to the Emperor and the cause of our Order, none of us guessed that his loyalties and soul had already been given over to another far more sinister master.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)14:46 No.4658641
    On only a vaguely related note, how fucking great are Light Mages? I love killing shit by looking at it in WFRP.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)14:50 No.4658677
    As an apprentice chanter of the eighth circle of our Order, Horstmann served under my late and respected colleague, Master Chant Elrisse, the Saviour of Apesto, who taught him many of our ancient secrets. But all the time he served with us, Horstmann was praying the gods of Chaosfor the power and knowledge to surpass his peers. Small wonder his progress through our ranks was so rapid. By day he studied the pure magics of Hysh, and by night he pored over the ancient manuscripts devoted the tainted lores of sorcery that my Order has locked away within its libraries. The daemons of Tzeentch no doubt whispered their timeless secrets into Horstmann's sleeping mind, and his powers waxed strong.

    For three years, our wicked patriach worked his evil. Seeds of corruption were planted in the hearts of many of my felow acolytes, and it saddens me no end to know that I lost so many of my peers to the shadow he cast across us. Such was the skill with which he wove his dark magics, Horstmannwas able to subtly alter many of our rituals, redirectly their otherwise benevolent power to his own ends. Most outrageously of all, Horstmann actually used the energies we called down to the work away at the vaults beneath the Pyramids of Light - vaults that had remained sealed since the founder of the Colleges of Magic, Teclis of Ulthuan himself, had created them as a prison for some of the most terrible creatures and artefacts from the last Great Chaos Incursion that could not be destroyed. One by one Horstmann defeated the vaults' magical locks to reveal the forbidden things they contained. It is impossible to calculate the damage done or the horrors unleashedupon the world by Horstmann before his evil was uncovered by Sigmar's Templars and the Grand Theogonist, Volkmar von Hindenstern.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)14:55 No.4658711
    The discovery of Horstmann's corruption would make a long and morbid tale in its own right. Suffice to say it ended badly. Before he and his twisted acolytes fled before the combined fury of Volkmar, the witch hunters, and those initiates of our our Order who were still loyal to its honest precepts, Horstmann managed to free the first of Chaos dragons, Galrauch, from its timeless prison beneath the Pyramid of Light, and upon its winged and two-headed form Horstmann took to the sky and fled towards the Chaos Wastes.

    Reliable information about Horstmann after this point is hard to come by. We know that he was unable to maintain his control of Galrauch once they had reached the Wastes - even Horstmann's powers have their limits - but although Galrauch managed to break free for Horstmann's hold, it seems that Hortmann has since managed to bind one of the great dragon's offspring to his will. Now, when Horstmann is stirred from his tower by the trumpets of war, he invariably rides into battle upon the back of the Chaos Dragon Baudros - that fell creature famed in a hundred Bretonnian folk tales.

    We also know tht Horstmann, along with his corrupted acolytes, formed the Cabal - perhaps the most infamous of any group dedicated to Tzeentch. The sorcerers of the Cabal bow only to Horstmann because he is the most powerful of them. The majority of the warriors who protect the Cabal are all willing slaves to Horstmann and his acolytes, ignoramuses desperate for the chance to learn even a fraction of their master's skills.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)14:55 No.4658713

    I prefer Metal Mages, but all the Orders are pretty cool. Even Life, which is odd.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)15:01 No.4658757
    How anyone finds the Silver Towers to join the Cabal is a mystery, although we do know that once they have been accepted, a warrior of sorcerer must swear binding magical oaths of loyalty to Horstmann and of course his dark lord, Tzeentch. Once branded with Tzeentch's rune, the inititiate can never rebel against the will of his masters, under pain of being reduced the state of a mindless spawn of Chaos.

    The warriors of the Cabal are only fractionally less heinous than their sorcerous masters. I have seen them marching to war in their archaic harnesses, covered as they are with a mass of ribbons and warding sigils. Many oftheir weapons were obvious magical in nature, no doubt enchanted by the Cabal's masters. In battle these blades gave off an eerie glow that was as strangely fascinating as it was disturbing.

    I will admit freely that the Cabal are a frightening enemy to face uponthe battlefield, even to one such as me. Besides the terrifying skill of its sorcerers and champions, the Cabal's war host seems to act and fight in perfect synchronicity, guided as they are by the sinister genius of their masters. Like all the militant servants of Tzeentch, the battle plans of the Cabal's generals are incredibly complex and often seem contradictory, and yet it is a rare battle indeed that they are not victorious. THe few times that I have faced the armies of the Cabal, it has seemed almost as if I was a player upon a masive stage, acting out a role that has been pre-determined for me. Naturally, I managed to shake the feeling off, but even still itfelt for all the world as if I was struggling against invisible chains. A magister of less experience might well have been lost.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)15:04 No.4658788
    Horstmann's acolytes are everywhere, and it is said that nearly two thirds of all the Chaos cults in the Empire were either created indirectly by agents within his network, are controlled by his Cabal in some tenuous and roundabout way, or indeed owe direct allegiance to him. Such plotting and scheming as this no doubt pleases Tzeentch immeasurably, and He seems to have rewarded Horstmann greatly over the years, making him His most favoured servant.

    Suffice to say, Horstmann seeks to bring the Colleges of Magic under his sway, and corrupt all of the Empire's magisters to the worship of his master. By doing this Horstmann hopes to attract his divine master's eye and be rewarded with daemonancy.

    Long may his quest prove fruitless.


    And that's Apostate van Horstmann, folks.

    Kind of tempted to do Aekold Hellbrass but by the end of this, my fingers will be screaming.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)15:10 No.4658839
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    One more story before I go to bed? Please?
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)15:10 No.4658840
    Take a break if you need to, this stuff is awesome. Is it on /rs/ perhaps?
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)15:12 No.4658863
    I'll resume at twenty past whatever the time is where you're at.

    This story was pretty much showing off what a fucking dick Horstmann is.

    Keeping with the first two stories, however, Aekold Hellbrass has a tragic tale.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)15:13 No.4658866
    Also - rapidshit Liber Chaotica.

    It's highly worth it - there's no better source for Chaos information.

    Fuck you fuckers with your shitty "Realms of Darkness". This is the real shit.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)15:15 No.4658885

    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)15:15 No.4658886
    From the OP I pictured two Slaaneshi lovers falling more and more into Chaos as time goes on, having competitions to see who can create the greatest piece of artwork using the bodies of the ones they murder.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)15:18 No.4658912
    >retire to suburbia

    So THAT'S where Archaeon went.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)15:18 No.4658913
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    Thats hot, I figure the masterpiece from bioshock now :D
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)15:23 No.4658965
    Tempestfag has returned.

    TIme to post about Aekold Hellbrass. It's eight A4 pages worth with size ten font. Hope it's worth it.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)15:27 No.4658997
    You are a credit to the servants of Chaos everywhere, great one.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)15:28 No.4659006
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    Please promise us you'll take a break if your fingers start to hurt, Tempest.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)15:30 No.4659017
    There was a time, many years ago now, when that nightmare of folklore, Aekold Helbrass, was the respected son of a noble household, living in his father's mansion house in Altdorf. Back then, Aekold had everything a young man of the Empire could possibly want: wealth, power, a beautiful fiancee and a comission within the Templar Order of the Jade Griffon. But these good things were not to last.

    His problems started when he joine what he thought to be a harmless secret society calling itself the "Brethren of the Golden Eagle." He had understood little of the principles behind the Brethren's complex rites, but they shared a common goal. They wanted to change the world.

    Aekold had always believed that there had to be something more to existance than the petty bickering and selfish politics of city life, despite the fact he had found little evidence of that something more in all his twenty-six years of living. In his quest for a better way, Aekold embraced the Empire's state religion with a pasion, seeking to devote his life to the service of the Heldenhammer. But over time, he found even the teachings of SIgmar's Holy Church lacking, in that they promised little but expected much. They taught that there would be no cessation to the pain or pettiness of this life, and even after death there could be no guarantee of peace or an afterlife, so grave were the horrors that beset mankind. It seemed that the lives of men were doomed to be spent in the pursuit of petty things for an uncertain reward.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)15:32 No.4659034

    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)15:33 No.4659039
    May Grandfather Nurgle bless your fingers with painlessness.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)15:34 No.4659059
    You would piss off Animu Loli? Thats not wise.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)15:35 No.4659062
    Day and night Aekold prayed to Sigmar, begging the first Emperor to show him how he could change the world for the better - to make a difference. But no answer came. Then, as Aekold's hopes of ever find the knowledge he sought had begun to fade, a drinking friend introduced him to the Brethren of the Golden Eagle. Aekold saw at once that this was what he had been looking for all his life. The Brethren were dedicated to the notion of changing the world and their every word and endeavour stretched towards this end.

    The Brethren's preacher was an intelligent and urbane man by the name of Melic Rosencrantz. He was a magus of considerable skill and power, easil a rial to the initiates of the Colleges of Magic, able to change base metals into gold, heal wounds with a word and change animals into new forms. Here was a man that Aekold could follow. The young knight was certain his prayers had finally been answered.

    The rituals of the Brethren called upon a "great Lord of Change", beseeching this ivine being's aid so that improvement might be found in this world and in this life, rather than in the uncertainty of the next. Aekold's intelligent and powerful personality soon earned him a position in the Brethren's most secretive Third Circle, and before long he had been initiated into the many secrets of the coven.

    Then, one night, the Templars of Sigmar raided his cult's hidden shrine. Aekold only narrowly escaped the clutches, but under the interrogation of the witch hunter captain himself, one of Aekold's fellow acolytes broke and revealed the names of all the members of the coven, Aekold amongst them.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)15:36 No.4659068
    Food break, chaps.

    Need to get a stick of garlic bread out of the oven.

    Give me ten.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)15:40 No.4659092
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    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)15:41 No.4659099
    After feeding the cats and dog and after a hearty meal of garlic bread, flapjack and lemonade...

    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)15:43 No.4659112

    Well, the Blood Pact armies from the First and Only series are supposed to embody the more honourable martial aspect of Khorne i.e. they fight in disicplined fashion rather than MAIMKILLBURN
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)15:46 No.4659125

    Remember, Khorne Berserkers are lobotomized, they're insane because they've had the part of their brain carefully altered to not fear and get a hormone rush when fighting.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)15:47 No.4659131

    The Blood Pact also kicked tremendous amounts of ass. Didn't they own a company of Space Marines in one book?
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)15:47 No.4659133
    Aekold's commission in the Order of the Jade Griffon was revoked, and his fellow knights came to arrest him and bring him before the authorities of Sigmar. Aekold begged them to listen to him, but they cared nothing for his excuses. Three of them died under Aekold's sword, and the other two were so badly wounded they could never fight again. No matter what could be said about him, no one could doubt that Aekold was the most talented swordsman of his order.

    Aekold fled through the streets of the Empire's capital, pursued by his former friends, the town watch and feared Templars of Sigmar. In his desperation, Aekold sought refuge at the house of his betrothed, lady Johanna von Leber, but even she had barred her windows against him. He tried to explain the unjustness of the assumption made against him and why he had been declared an outlaw, but the lady did not want to hear him. She declared that she did not ever want to see him again, accusing him of bring disrepute upon her family and their standing in society.

    Aekold knew then that but for Validus, his warhorse, he was truly alone.

    With little else to do, Aekold headed for the River Gate. Without pause or leave, the once-knight rode down the guards and took the North road at a heedless gallop.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)15:53 No.4659166
    Before long Aekold had left the Reikland's borders far behind him, but Sigmar's witch hunters were always close at hand. Forced to live like a beast of the wild, Aekold slept in the darkness in the deep foests and travelled by night to avoid the eyes of the curious. His food he stole or bought from roadside farms, and he avoided every town and toll gate. All the while the humiliation of his fall from grace made his blood run hot.

    At the borders of Ostland, one of Sigmar's Templars finally caught up with him, and a crossbow bolt intended to Aekold's heart only narrowly missed taking his life. Only by throwing his great zwei-hander, an unthinkable deed for a knight, did he manage to kill the witch hunter before one of his crossbow bolts could find its mark. The two-handed sword had struck his foe squarely in the chest and Aekold had barely managed to recover from the attack before the ferocious huntingdogs of the Count of Ostland appeared, snapping at his heels.

    Perhaps fate had been unkind to Aekold. After all, the young man had only sought to escape the monotony of his jaded and dull existence as a young nobleman of the Empire. All around him he had seen the decadence of the Imperial capital: the filthy streets and the hopeless mobs of the poor, begging and scraping out a miserable existence in hovels and disease ridden slums. Aekold had wanted to change everything, to begin anew, start afresh, to cast down the old, corrupt society and be part of building something new, something better.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)15:57 No.4659208
    But this was not to be. His life was in ruins, his father had disowned him, and his friends turned against him. He had been driven beyond the borders of Kislev to the very edge of the civilised world, fleeing for his life and with a price on his head. All he had left were his weapons, his strong sword arm and his will to live. They would have to be enough. He was about the enter the Troll Country and none would dare to follow him there.

    Aekold travelled Northwards for seven days before he encountered any resistance. He had seen the groups of misshapen creatures in the shadows of the treeline or upon the distant horizon, but they had never sought to approach him. They seemed content to watch. Why, Aekold did not know, but until they became a threat he decided to pay them no mind.

    As Aekold tavelled onwards, the trees grew thinner and thinner and the land grew ever rockier. After a time he came across a great monolith, a standing stonecarved as if by some titanic hand. It was inscribed with sigils and runes that seemed to glow in the gathering darkness. Though he could not say why, Aekold knew that the carved slab was of vital importance to him. He had to know what was written on the monolith, even if it would cost him his soul.

    But the monolith was not unguarded.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)16:02 No.4659231
    F5 F5 F5
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)16:03 No.4659241
    Out of the crude shrine that stood next to the carved pillar, a huge creature emerged. The earth shook under its great cloven hooves and gigantic muscles writhed under its thick hide. Huge horns spiralled above a bovine head, and yet the creature's body was humanoid, though massive like that of an ogre. In its hands the bull-creature carried an axe that Aekold reckoned must have weighed almost as much as he did. Aekold recognized the creature from the grimoires of the Brethren: this was a Minotaur, a gigantic blasphemy against a nature, a cross between a mighty bull and a giant man.

    Yet, despite its brutal appearance, intelligence gleamed in the creature's bloodshot eyes - the low cunning of an anial combined with some of the sense of a man. Forcing his voice to stay calm, Aekold told the creature of his desire and intention to study the carving on the monolith.

    In coarse and barely recognisable Reikspiel, the Minotaur replied that only the Chosen One could find the path, and that all those who could not Change must perish. Then, bellowing a battle cry, the Minotaur lifted its gigantic axe and charged. Aekold slammed down his visor and spurred Validus into a gallop. They thundered towards each other, man and beast, one screaming the battle cry of an Imperial knight, the other bellowing and snarling in the dark tongue of Chaos.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)16:03 No.4659242
    I would kind of...
    ... But my girlfriend is the type of girl to take that opportunity for me and then go out and murder people, while I grumble about how I should've been in her place, doing all that funny shit.

    Yeah, she's scary.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)16:10 No.4659295
    They struck, Aekold's lance pierced the Minotaur's left shoulder, its wooden haft shattering with the force of the impact.Rearing upwards, Validus lashed out with both iron-shod hooves and crashed downagainst the Minotaur's skull. But the creature's gigantic axe had just as great a reach as Aekold's lance, and its swipe was blindly fast. It hit Aekold's raised shield but the tremendous force of the blow ripped it from his hand, leaving hisleft arm numb.

    The Minotaur swung again with its free hand and its massive fist, perhaps twice the size of Aekold's head, smashed the knight from his saddle. Aekold crashed to the ground, the air driven from his lungs by the force of the impact.

    With a ferocious roar, the Minotaur tore the steel tip of the lance from its shoulder and threw it to the ground. Thick blood oozed from its wound, but the creature seemed not to notice. With blood red eyes and crimson foam pouring frm its mouth, the creature bellowed once more. All vestiges of sanity had disappeared from its face.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)16:11 No.4659302
    It rushed towards the fallen knight, swinging its axe in a huge arc, it struck the stone where Aekold's head had been but a heartbeat before, and such as the force of the blow that blade of the axe cracked and the haft snapped in two like a dry twig. Aekold regained his footing and scrambled towards Validus. He drew his sword from its scabbard hangingfrom the horse's sadddle. But the Minotaur had been just as quick. Two mighty arms closed around Aekold's chest, squeezing him until his armour creaked as he was lifted above the head of the minotaur. Though his ribs threatened to break and his strength faded, Aekold swung his blade downwards. It struck the Minotaur in the neck, cutting muscles, severing tendons and sinew, and splintering the bones beneath. A cry of fury and pain cut the air.

    As the Minotaur toppled forward, Aekold hit the ground alongside it. The world seemed to spin and go dark.

    When Aekold awoke, the Minotaur was nowhere to be seen.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)16:18 No.4659344
    Groaning with agony, Aekold rose to his feet and staggered across to the monolith. Despite the pain, Aekold felt driven to see the carvings immediately, as if forced to by some unseen hand. As he looked upon the swirling designs and jagged runes that covered the monolith's surface, Aekold realised that they formed a picture. Stepping back, Aekold began to make out the shape of a knight with the device of a rampant Griffon on his shield, the same device as Aekold's own shield. The former knight studied the ancient carvings, and while he was no expert, he was sure that judging by the wear of the rock they had to have been several centuries old. And yet, undeniably, the knight carved on the stone was suppoed to be him. A chill ran down Aekold's spine. He turned his back on the monolith.

    Days passed and Aekold rode further North. Here was a place unfit for mortal men, nly those who had pledged themselves to darkness could travel safely. Yet Aekold sensed that he could still choose his path, as if he stood at the very edge of sanity but had not yet crossed to the madness beyond. He knew that this was his very last chance to turn but and rejoin civilisation. He could ride to Tilea or the land of the Border Princes and offer his services as a freelance to one of the countless mercenary bands of the Old World. He was strong and fast, well versed in tactics and strategy. With a little luck he could quickly win fame and fortune, and soon lead a mercenary contingent of his own.

    For a long while Aekold held Validus in place, and then, making up his mind, spurred his horse onwards, to the North and darkness. It might have been his imagination, but mocking laughter seemed to whisper upon the cold wind as he rode on.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)16:21 No.4659361
    Aekold's story could be a pretty sweet movie.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)16:23 No.4659372
    Day and night lost all meaning. The eternal darkness ofthe Chaos Wastes was lit only by the strange lights emanating from the far North. Each time Aekold blinked his eyes, the landscape appeared to hae subtly changed. When he tried to focus his eyes on any landmark, it seemed to almost flee from vision, and things he thought would take minutes to reach escaped ever further into the distance, no matter how hard he galloped towards them.

    Water could not quench his thirst. He yearned for something of more substance, something he could not yet name. Neither did he feel the need to sleep any more. He felt wide awake, and his senses were sharper than he had ever dreamed possible. He felt no hunger. He felt strong, healthy and fast, stronger and faster than he had ever been before.

    His warhorse, Validus, had also changed. Its teeth had grown sharp, and it no longer shied back with fear when one of the foul creatures from those endless plains approached: its eyes glowed red in the eternal darkness of the Chaos Wastes, and its hide had become darker and tough as tleather. Aekold noticed that Validus's tongue was now as rough as sandpaper and had grown long and forked. The steed no longer brushed its nose against Aekold's face, but always stood silent and unmoving when they were not riding.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)16:23 No.4659373
    >His problems started when he joine what he thought to be a harmless secret society calling itself the "Brethren of the Golden Eagle."
    > Harmless
    > Secret society

    What an idiot.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)16:25 No.4659390
    Daemon horse fuck yeah!
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)16:27 No.4659404
    The unearthly wind of the Wastes was full of sounds, strange voices that whispered to Aekold about all his noble and evil deeds, as if warring for his attention, perhaps even his soul. But one voice was stronger, and it drowned out all the others:

    "Be strong", it would say, "only the stronge are welcome."

    Whe one day Aekold cried back to the sibilant voice that he was strong and that he feared nothing, mocking laughter returned in answer. Then thev oice whispered to him once more:

    "Then show me, gallant knight. Prove to me your courage."

    On the horizon, a gigantic shape loomed from the darkness. It was a gateway that stood on top of a long flight of steps. It was a titanic altar, perhaps erected by the giants of ancient times when the world was young and the gods of Chaos first turned their eyes on it.

    In the sky above the gateway flames danced, forming the shapes of eldritch runes, not unlike the ones Aekold had seen on the grimoires at the temple of Sigmar, hidden and locked away from ordinary folk. But as a part of his training Aekold had learned to decipher them, and so read aloud the message written in the sky.

    "Shamelna Tzeen'neth! Atde phaosden tak'zith!"
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)16:31 No.4659438
    Then ekold dismounted, and started to climb up the stairs. On andon he climbed, higher and higher, until the air grew thin and cold and the clouds whirled far below him. Despite his heavy armour, Aekold felt no fatigue.

    At the stop of the stairway Aekold gazed around him. He had come to the end of his journey. The gateway before him seemed to be made out of polished silver, reflecting the grim darkness and dancing lights of the Chaos Wastes. Aekold stood before the portal and stared at his mirror image. Looking back at him was a young, handsome Templar in burnished armour, holding a shining sword with a jade griffon set into its pommel. This was what Aekold could hae been, something he now lost for all eternity.

    The mirror image spoke:

    "I am the Guardian. I am the defender of humanity. You are an abomination."

    With that the reflection stepped out of the portal with its sword raised in a knight's salute. Then it charged.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)16:36 No.4659488
    So swift was the attack that Aekold barely had time to defend himself. From the first blow Aekold knew that his life was at stake. Never before had he met a man who could match him in a sword fight. But this warrior from beyond the mirror gate was just as fast, strong, and skilled as he was. They slashed and struck, weaving, dodging and parrying as they circled each other warily. Now and then one of them would launch an attack with blsitering speed, only to be parried by equal skill.

    Aekold was struck suddenly by the pointlessness of it all. Why did he struggle so much to defender himself when he had nothing left to defend? But instead of giving in, Aekold smiled, brought up his sword and charged.

    Both men struck. The Templar's sword sliced through Aekold's armour, cutting deep into his ribs. But Aekold's sword tok the Templar's head from his shoulders.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)16:38 No.4659503
    Nurgle would ask for Stamper's short in the Street Fighter Newgrounds collab.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)16:41 No.4659525
    As the body of the white Templar fell, blood gushing from the stump of his neck, Aekold sank to his knees, his own life blood oozing through the gaps in his armour. He was dying and he knew it. Yet he had come so far and seen so much, too much to let it all end in that moment. Agonisingly slowly, Aekold began to crawl back to the portal, leaving a trail of blood behind him. Now the silver of the mirror showed no reflection, only the multicoloured flames of the Chaos Wastes coloured its surface.

    Aekold touched the mirror's surface. He knew that his own death waited for him on the other side of it, yet still he had to continue. As the world seemed to spin around him, Aekold heard the sibilant voice again, only now it seemed to echo all around him.

    "The way lies beyonds this portal, yet only the Chosen One may enter! Are you he?"

    For one final time Aekold felt a pang of guilt - for one last time he longed for his former life. But what had he to go back to? His past was as dead to him as the headless Templar that lay behind him. Finally, Aekold pushed against the surface of the mirror-portal.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)16:42 No.4659541

    Surely Slaanesh would want that, not Nurgle.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)16:46 No.4659562
    A searing pain, like lances of pure white fire, ripped through him. Aekold screamed in agony as he felt talons, hotter than hellfire, colder than the void, tearing him apart, seperating flesh from bone, raking his very soul and obliterating whatever was left of his sanity. Then all sense and feeling left him.

    Aekold, the son of Graf of the Reikland, was gone. The newly born champion of Tzeen'neth standing before the mirror-portal turned around to study his new form.

    The pale reflection in the mirror showed a face quite unlike the young knight who left Altdorf all those months ago. Two eyes, glittering like multi-faceted gems and burning with ineer balefires, stared back at him. His armour was covered in twisting runes that glowed in the flickering darkness of the Chaos wastelands. His sword gleamed with blue light, and seemed to moan as he moved it, its shape changing with every motion.

    Aekold began to laugh. His raised his sword, lifting it in a challenge to humanity and all the things he had once held dear. His laughter turned into a scream of hatred and vengeance.

    "I will return!" he cried. "For now I know the truth!"
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)16:48 No.4659573
    Story time is over, chaps. That's the tale of Aekold. Kind of disappointing to see no mention of his spreading of life, but oh well.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)16:50 No.4659580
    Thanks mate.
    >> Vector !NEy29ODpvs 05/25/09(Mon)16:50 No.4659581
    Isn't chaos suppose to be about freedom?
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)16:52 No.4659602

    A kind of freedom I suppose. The freedom to earn your life. If you're not strong enough, you die. If you make the cut, you can become a daemon prince.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)16:56 No.4659633
    Like every other Chaos God, Tzeentch has countless name. Tzeentch, Tzeen'neth, Tchar, Shunch, Chen Chi-en, whatever.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)16:57 No.4659644

    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)16:59 No.4659659
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    Thanks Tempest! You rock!
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)17:00 No.4659667

    He's the god of Change. Of course he's not going to stick with the same name all the time.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)17:01 No.4659672
    It's the illusion of freedom and the illusion of power.

    You're granted the ultimate freedom from society - if you go all the way, you became a Daemon that no one rules over.
    You're granted the ultimate power - nothing can permanantly kill a Daemon Prince.

    In the end, however, you have no freedom. You simply become an extension of your God's will. You have no power - if your God does not wish you to do something, you shall not do it.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)17:07 No.4659710
    Also, for tomorrow, select four articles out of the following.
    I'll post the ones that gather the most vots:
    - The Armoury of Chaos
    - Conversing with the Damned
    - The Road to Power
    - The Saga of Styrkaar
    - The Denied One
    - Valnir the Reaper
    - Love from the Son is Measure of the Father
    - The Crimson Cyclops (subsection of "The Immortal Servants of Change")
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)17:10 No.4659730
    First four.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)17:12 No.4659741
    >You have no power - if your God does not wish you to do something, you shall not do it.

    I don't think this is exactly true, actually. One of the Daemon special characters in the new Daemon books is a Bloodthrister who rebelled and tried (and obviously failed) to murder Khorne himself; and judging by Khorne's reaction, it certainly wasn't something that he wanted to happen.

    It's always been my assumption that a Daemon can basically do whatever it wants; but if the patron god dislikes what the Daemon does, can simply instantly destroy and recreate it. Or put it through all manner or horribly punishments. So most of them toe the party line, so to speak.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)17:13 No.4659748
    >- The Denied One

    Isn't she the Slaaneshi Champion with the snake-body? I'd like to hear about her.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)17:13 No.4659752
    I left just before this, about to read about Hellbrass now. I just want to say, that's fucking insane. Two thirds? Mad.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)17:18 No.4659781

    'Conversing with the Damned' sounds good. 'The Armoury Of Chaos' sounds good too.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)17:20 No.4659801
    I think I will do Road to Power, Conversing with the Damned, Saga and Denied One, since that just requires me to get out the Slaaneshi booklet instead of giant Undivided tome.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)17:26 No.4659866
    I'd really like to hear about the Armoury of Chaos. Could you not include that at all?
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)17:26 No.4659867
    I've got the Liber Chaotica in .pdf format, reading it now. I'm confused though, is this Fantasy or 40k? I thought it was WHFB, even when they showed a chainsword (it was essentially a magic construct, not a machine), but then there's full-page pictures of Khornate Berzerkers
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)17:27 No.4659875
    This is before they differentiated Chaos in fantasy and 40k.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)17:29 No.4659894

    I remember when Chaos in WHFB had chainswords and plasma weapons. "technological weapons" I think they were called. Shit was SO cash.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)17:29 No.4659897

    Liber Chaotica is...odd. It is based in the WHFB universe, and is written from an in-character perspective of someone who lives there. But, yes, it does contain referances to 40k.

    Some people claim it's proof that the WHFB world is, in fact, a planet within the 40k universe, isolated and trapped by a Warp Storm or something. However, I'm pretty sure GW eventually came out and said this isn't the truth, they're separate universes with Chaos as a linking theme/element.

    Really, it's anyone's guess.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)17:31 No.4659911
    It used to be true but GW retconned in, in part I think due to a bad fan reaction.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)17:32 No.4659919
    No, it's after this point. Long after.

    It's written by a character from Warhammer Fantasy Battles, but it's about the Warp / Aethyr in general. This authot doesn't go with "lol emperor was a primarch" but he assumes that both universes are connected by the Warp.

    In the Slaaneshi book, the author writes about the Fall of the Eldar.

    In the Tzeentchi book, the author writes about meeting god damn MAGNUS in his dreams. That's one of the articles I was going to write up - the "Crimson Cyclops" one.
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)17:36 No.4659947
    I'll try and do that as well.

    So far, people primarily want to see:
    - Armoury
    - Conversing
    - Denied

    The Saga is a story about Feynor's Slaaneshi equivilant rising to power.
    The "Road to Power" part is a witch hunter's thesis on Chaos worshippers.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)17:39 No.4659973
    I definitely would like to see The Road to Power then. I'm not keen on Dechala, but if it's popular it's popular. I have a witch-hunter themed empire army and run the warband in Mordheim so it'd be good to get some extra fluff. You've inspired me to go see if I can find my copy of Blood on the Reik and scan in the images, actually.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)17:40 No.4659982
    Also, is this auto-saging?
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)17:42 No.4659996
    hot damn, magic chainswords? What edition was this, and where can I buy the models?!
    >> Tempestfag !TXr104z00M 05/25/09(Mon)17:50 No.4660077
    It is.
    So we've go:
    - Road
    - Conversing
    - Armoury
    - Denied

    See you tomorrow, chaps.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)17:55 No.4660132

    Old WHFB. 3rd edition was really the high point for this kind of thing.
    >> Anonymous 05/25/09(Mon)18:04 No.4660200
         File :1243289082.jpg-(55 KB, 356x518, chainswordwhfb.jpg)
    55 KB

    Gadruk was here. Yay for old issues of WD. Chainswords in fantasy. Damnit Mythic! Give my Chosen a Chain Sword!
    >> MonkeyToho 05/25/09(Mon)18:16 No.4660313
    rolled 21 = 21


    In one of the little mini-campaigns a few years back, they had 'magical' artefacts as magic item options for some of the armies that won. Things like power fists, power armor, chainswords, bolters, and the like.

    Of course, they were not named as such, but it was pretty easy to see what they actually were. iirc, the Dark Elves got most of them.

    Part of that misty island thing, can't remember the name of it. Began with an A.

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