Warhammer 40k Forum and Wargaming Forums banner

The Warp Bar.

4K views 34 replies 15 participants last post by  Iron Angel 
#1 · (Edited)
An'ggrath the Unbound (aka Guardian of the throne of skulls), Most favoured of Khorne and Lord of the Bloodthirsters, with complete and utter consumed hatred, rage and the will to
destroy, observed the scene he had just walked into. Large dark room with burgundy coloured walls and dark carpets. Attached to the ceiling were a few sets of dim lights, giving the room a smoky dark atmosphere.

To his right was a long steel table, with many large glass bottles filled with some sort of thick oozing grey liquid. Behind the steel table stood Deamon Prince Ormoran, who at the present moment seemed to be making a Cocktail, presumably for the pack of giggling Deamonettes at table 6. Behind Deamon Prince Ormoran stood an enormous shelf containing many various bottles of both dark and colourful substances, many of which would transform a mortal man into a pile of bubbling carcas and depart their soul to the warp conscripting it to an eternity of slavery, but at the same time make a nifty little cocktail base or for those adventurous enough, a nice Friday night drink.

To the left, Greater Deamon Varinark, Lord of Change was playing Great Unclean One Ogie in a game of pool. As usual the two had begun finding trivial excuses to argue with each other.
“Grwrp strwp blrgh changing the blrgh ball argh Var blrgh!”
“Well then please refrain from dribbling on them!”
“Blrghargh not arghblargh!” And as usual Deamon Prince Ormoran would have to intervene.
“Oi! Not this again aye!” This would then cause more giggling and laughter from table 6.

An'ggrath the unbound (aka Guardian of the throne of skulls), Most favoured of Khorne and Lord of the Bloodthirsters focused his attention forward to the set of tables spaced greatly apart to allow patrons the freedom of movement. At the table 3 a handful of Tzeentch Screamers sat heatedly arguing the laws of something or other vainly trying to catch the attention of the Deamonettes. A mob of 20-30 Bloodletters stood around the large table 13 Cheering and Jeering.
“My arm My arm!! Ha ha ha!!”
“His arm his arm!!” they all cheered in chorus.
“7”
“8!”
“YEAH!!” Came a cheer!
At that moment the seated Bloodletter Stood and unsheathing its blade cut off its own arm, spraying blood all over the other Bloodletters.
“Woohoo! Yeah!!”

At the other tables sat few other Deamons, many of which An'ggrath the unbound (aka Guardian of the throne of skulls), Most favoured of Khorne and Lord of the Bloodthirsters did not recognise. “More new guys round here these days.” An'ggrath the unbound turned to Deamon Prince Ormoran and seated himself on the bar stool.
“Bloody oath, its the inquisition mate, keep finding new ways to banish us.”
“Aye, remember the old days, when the humans didnt know who the hell we were, springing up behind em and scaring the crap outa em was fun! Now, almost every one of em knows all our waeknesses and has somekinda Deamon detecting device, and don't get me started on the Inquisition!”
“Aye, those were the days. But hey, its not all bad, least not for all of us. Good business, used to be pretty quiet round 'ere, 'till all these guys kept getting banished, more customers I say. So whats it gonna be today An'ggrath? Usual?”
“The usual Orm, leave the bottle.” Daemon Prince Ormoran selected a long skinny red bottle from the shelf behind him and placed it beside An'ggrath the unbound (aka Guardian of the throne of skulls), Most favoured of Khorne and Lord of the Bloodthirsters. An'ggrath the unbound (aka Guardian of the throne of skulls), Most favoured of Khorne and Lord of the Bloodthirsters dropped a few skulls on the steel bench which Daemon Prince Ormoran scooped up instantly.

An'ggrath the unbound (aka Guardian of the throne of skulls), Most favoured of Khorne and Lord of the Bloodthirsters glanced to his left and noticed Greater Demon of Khorne, Bloodthirster Molniya slouching at the steel bench, face in hands with 4 or 5 of the same skinny red bottles layed out around him. All but half of one of the bottles were empty.
“Whats up with Mol?”
“Oh you know, the missus again. She fell for some Slaaneshy Greater Daemon, recently banished.”
“Ah, wow, theyve been together a while, Mol and the missus, thats gotta hurt.”
“Hmm yeah, poor bastard. Shit he's had too much to drink again.”

Greater Daemon of Khorne, Bloodthirster Molniya picked his head up from under his hands and was yelling obscenities over at the Deamonettes at table 6.
“Scum! Allaf ur kind! Drity scumey bitches!”
“Hey Mol, you've had a bit to drink...”
“Bullllshhit!” Greater Daemon of Khorne, Bloodthirster Molniya was flailing his arms around himself clumsily. “Cumere I'll showw you how much i'f had a drink, dirty bastard! I'll fucking tell yous wen i'f had enuf to fucking drink! Yous don't know shit!”
“Come on Mol, calm down, here I'll help you up. Come on Mol don't be like that.”
“I'll be fucking be how I fucking want! Fuck off, I's dnt need ur shit! I'ma fine!”

Greater Daemon of Khorne, Bloodthirster Molniya clumsily clambered off the bar stool almost falling over several times. “ There Mol, here hold on.”
“Ah! Lowd Aggrnaff! Hows be yous today?”
“I'm fine Mol, you don't look too good, here let me help you.”
Greater Daemon of Khorne, Bloodthirster Molniya suddenly embraced An'ggrath the unbound (aka Guardian of the throne of skulls), Most favoured of Khorne and Lord of the Bloodthirsters and burst into tears. “U've always beeen there fur us Aggrnaff! Oh how culd she do that Aggrnaff? How?!” Greater Daemon of Khorne, Bloodthirster Molniya shook all over and convulsed in tears. “Come on Mol, lets go.” An'ggrath the unbound (aka Guardian of the throne of skulls), Most favoured of Khorne and Lord of the Bloodthirsters nodded over to the Bloodletters watching the interesting scene.
“Help him up guys aye! Here take him home. Come on Mol, get some rest and visit me when your yourself again, then we'll go find this Slaanesh bastard and add some more skulls to the skull throne aye? Come on.”
“Youf always beeen there Aggrnaff! Khorne help you.” Half the Bloodletters from table 13 took hold of Greater Daemon of Khorne, Bloodthirster Molniya and led him out of the bar.
Daemon Prince Ormoran waved over at tale 6 and turned to An'ggrath the unbound (aka Guardian of the throne of skulls), Most favoured of Khorne and Lord of the Bloodthirsters.

“Another chaotic day at the Warp Bar aye? Ha ha ha!”


Another "load of crap" production from the "Warhammer Dogs".
 
See less See more
#3 ·
I'm just waiting for the next installment.
 
#11 ·
Yay new installment or whatever it is!
If your enjoying this you must be some sick bastard.

Corporal Maro screamed and thrashed, unable to escape from the giants vice like headlock.
Bloodletter Gloh taunted and laughed, squashing the fragile guardsmen's hysteric head.
“Ha ha! What now mortal? Ha! I'm gonna rip your hea...” Bloodletter Gloh did not attain the chance to finish his sentence because to his sudden misfortune an Ordo Mallues Inquisitor happened to be passing by and even just as Gloh had began his sentence, Ordo Mallues Inquisitor Darcy had both loaded and trained his Psy Bolt Pistol onto Gloh's head. Only after a short few seconds passing the beginning of his sentence, Gloh realised why he was no longer holding the poor Guardsmen in a headlock and why his own head was in fact lying on the dry barren earth, in pieces.
“Fuck”

Demon Prince Ormoran stared at the ceiling. Demon Prince Shaitan and Fargah were also staring up at the ceiling. They were silently staring up at the ceiling for quite some time.
The ceiling was a dull grey, with a few light rods seemingly barely attached to it. There was a lot of smoke and greyish mist floating around, so not many people noticed the dull grey colour. The Burgundy walls were what gave the Warp Bar its characteristic look.
Demon Prince Fargah was first to brake the silence.
“I don't get it? What are we staring at?” Demon Prince Shaitan looked down at Demon Prince Ormoran. “Why am I even here?”
“Just tell us Orm! I wanna go home!”
“Shut up! There! You missed it!” Demon Prince Ormoran yelled out pointing at the ceiling.
“Missed what? For fucks sake Orm! I'm leaving.”
“Yeah me too!”
Both the Demon Princes got up to leave but Ormoran grabbed hold of their arms.
“Wait, It'll happen again, its pretty cool, just watch.”
“This better be good Ormoran!”
They both returned to their seats at the steel bar table and continued to stare up at the dull grey ceiling.
“Watch it. I'll be back, I've got customers.”

Demon Prince Ormoran left the two Demon Princes to stare at the ceiling while he moved over to a freshly seated Bloodletter.
“I swear those two are so easy!”
Demon Prince jerked his thumb at the two Demons Princes staring at the ceiling.
“Oh hey, what up Ormoran?” asked the BloodLetter.
“Ah the weathers been kind, a lot of customers lately. Back so soon Gloh? What was it this time? An execution force barely get you? Took on an army of Grey knights?” Ormoran Sarcastically asked.
“Nah, I assaulted some Cadian Citadel and slaughtered hundreds 'till this group of specialised Agent assassins finally got me.”
“Really? I heard you got your head blown to bits while harassing some poor mortal in a headlock.” The Grin on Ormoran's face rapidly grew to the length of a battle tank.
“Dammit Orm! Where the fuck to you get this from? It happened like 2 bloody hours ago!”
“I have my advantages. So wat'll it be today?”
“2 reds n' a yellow”
“Already on the hard eh? Ha ha! 2 reds and a yellow it shall be!”



Greater Demon Zhopa, Lord of Change strolled into what seemed to be a bar.
Greater Demon Zhopa, Lord of Change was not used to strolling into bars. He was usually too busy learning old and ancient mind consuming spells while striving for what seemed to be an eternity of knowledge. Greater Demon Zhopa, Lord of Change could mutate and ming control armies with a few single words, Greater Demon Zhopa, Lord of Change was capable of changing a lot of things, yet this still did not change the fact that Greater Demon Zhopa, Lord of Change was not used to bars. By all possibility in all of Greater Demon Zhopa's thousands of years of existence, he had never really visited a bar. Due to this unsettling fact, Greater Demon Zhopa, Lord of Change was very much not used to bars.
To his right was stationed a large long dark steel table running verticle from one side of the room to the other. His left led to a couple of steps which in turn led to a couple of billiard tables which again in turn were occupied by a few patrons, all of which looked closely similar to lesser Deamon Nurgle PlagueBearers.
The remaining majority of the space was occupied by round wooden tables and arcade gaming machines.
Excluding the Plague Bearers playing billiards, the bar was completely empty. A lone Bloodletter sitting at the steel bar table twirled his long red finger around in his glass and two Deamon Prince's wearing what looked to be the marks of ancient Space Marine legions were staring up at the ceiling. A Deamon Prince wearing a red bow tie and Burgundy Robes behind the bar was using a long blackened towel to wipe what seemed to be a large beer mug.
Presumably the Deamon Prince behind the bar was the Bar tender and was responsible for the customers services.

“Ah excuse me kind sir”
Blood Letter Gloh continued twirling his finger around the table, looked up and dropped his glass and the two Deamon Princes continued staring at the ceiling.
Deamon Prince Ormoran turned to the Lord of change. The Lord Of Change looked magnificent with his enormous spread out blue/white wings, long neck of what looked like an arm encrusted in jewelry, torso covered in feathers mostly conceled by books, lamentations and human heads and feet that of the goat.
“Hi what can I do for you? You seem to be new here. Yes? Well I'm Deamon Prince Ormoran or as other undesirables call me, Orm.”
“Ah yes thank you. I'm not affluent in the knowledge of beverages.”
“Oh yes, right. First time? Hmm. Here you'll want to have something to eat, yes? We have the finest Space Marine legions on roast here. Half sided Dark Angel and I advise you try the sjgbks eh!” Deamon Prince Ormoran hurriedly scribbled down the order.
“Ah yes thank you very much. I shall wait upon your arrival Prince Ormoran.”

Deamon Princes Fargah and Shaitan were getting annoyed at staring towards the ceiling.
“I'm getting annoyed at staring towards the ceiling!” Deamon Prince Fargah jumped up from his bar stool clutching his over sized power sword.
“Shit!”
Fargah slipped on a freshly dropped glass and went flying onto the floor.
Fargah's power sword followed a different destiny which turned out to be Greater Deamon, lord Of Change, Zhopa's bird like head.

Greater Deamon Lord Of Change Zhopa dropped instantly, completely ceasing all movement.
.... “Hey now thats something to stare at!”

Deamon Prince Ormoran returned from the back room behind the bar clutching a large platter of a Dark Angel cut in half and roasted by the best Space Marine Roasters in this side of the Warp, and a mug of yellow greenish sjgbks.
The two Deamon Princes and BloodLetter Gloh sat at the bar table staring at what resembled a Lord Of Change Zhopa with a power sword stuck in his head.
“Aw crap. And it was his first time in a bar!”
“Really? Wow, poor bastard.” Bloodletter Gloh looked astonished.
“He's never been to a bar, if you don't drink your drink before you're stabbed by a power sword it doesn't count!” Deamon Prince Fargah exclaimed.
Deamon Prince Shaitan Strongly disagreed.
“Nah-uh! Once your in and you've spoken to the bar tender you've been to a bar!”
“Lets ask Orm's advise!”
Deamon Prince Ormoran was staring at the Tzeentch Greater Deamon's remains.
“I advise you to get the fuck out of my bar.”

Both the Deamon Princes were finally persuaded to leave the bar, only without a few of their limbs and Deamon Prince Ormoran finally got back to the bar table.

Blood Letter Gloh stood up laughing. “Ha! Bloody Fucken Chaos eh! Ha ha ha!”

Another Production from the “Warhammer Dogs”
(Although they don't do shit)
 
#14 ·
This is fun lets get some more :biggrin:
 
#18 ·
3rd Installment of the Warp Bar, or whatever you wanna call it.


'Clank'...'Clank'...”Son of a..”. Guardsmen Rourke backed away from the dark, heavy plate bolted to the wall, ensuring the safety of innocent, feeble minds from viewing the twisted horrors of what truly is, the 'Warp'. “Sir!” Rourke called into the dark engine chimed corridor of the Transport Class Imperial shuttle 'Death'. Suddenly, from the shadow, emerged an Imperial Officer trailed by a group of figures shadowed by the ever seething darkness of Death's below engine level. “Years now, we've planned this, dont fuck up!”. The officer pointed towards Rourke while correcting his dark green cape and thrwoing off his officer issue cap. The Officer turned to the figures, “Finally we can truly seek favour from the ever mighty entities of the Warp. May we forever serve the true Gods of Chaos. Death to the false Emperor!” “Death to the false Emperor” They cheered in chorus. “Sir!” Rourke called out. “Its clear sir! I've removed the suspended fiels and iron blast screens sir!” The officer jumped up clearly excited, anticipating the glance at power and horror, forbidden to him by the ever present, ever annoying Inquisition. Captain Solace Vanice, with various Chaos symbols and defiled Imperial Aquiles sown into his uniform, leaned over to the unblocked view port of the ship. He had suffered all his life, waiting in patience to overthrow the shackles of the Imperium and serve true power instead of some foul rotting carcass, it has been his increasing dream to glimpse the true power of the Warp and attain from it, the service to the Dark Gods.
“Emperors Cunt! Theres a fucking bar out there!!!!”


Greater Daemon of Khorne, Bloodthirster Molniya shambled into the smoke filled, Burgundy enclosure of the Warp Bar. Greater Daemon of Khorne, Bloodthirster Molniya looked quite a shambles himself. It was perfectly clear, if not amusing that Greater Daemon of Khorne, Bloodthirster Molniya had put on his armour backwards and had forgotten to tie random poor, tortured souls onto himself and to top it off he did not have his Favoured of Khorne Deamon Blood Axe thing. Greater Daemon of Khorne, Bloodthirster Molniya was a shambles for sure. Seating himself onto the steel Black bar table which ran from one side of the bar to the other. Greater Daemon of Khorne, Bloodthirster Molniya buried his head into his hands.
“Molniya! Hows it been mate? Wat'll it be today aye?”
Greater Daemon of Khorne, Bloodthirster Molniya shambly lifted hs head to inspect this new intrusion into his already intruded day. Before him (behind the bar) stood a Deamon Prince drying a glass with a towl. Instead of Deamon armour the Deamon Prince wore a maroon bowtie and a burgundy apron, the colour of the bar's ceiling and walls, except for the back wall, which was conspiciously made of black bricks. “Oh, hey Ormoran, give me something strong, give me an axgrmbd”. Ormoran studied Greater Daemon of Khorne, Bloodthirster Molniya for a moment, fiddling with one of his horns. “You know theres a 76% chance the first axgrmbd will rip apart your insides and permanently fuck up your mind right?”
Greater Daemon of Khorne, Bloodthirster Molniya plunged his head into his hands, again. “Your right Orm! Its too weak, make it a mtzbgbgihblsdgkj then!”
“Ah! Now your talking! So wats the occasion then aye?”
Greater Daemon of Khorne, Bloodthirster Molniya didn't bother lifting his head from his hands. “Missus Orm. Another argument and she agreed not to speak to me for 307 days”.
“Well thats great!”
“I know.”
“So why you so down?”
“Todays the last day of the agreement.”

At that moment a pair of screamers at table 4 near the end of the bar jumped up yelling at the Deamon Prince wearing the burgundy apron. “Tender! Tender! Escort these minors from the premises! Tender!” Ormoran sighed and shuffled grudgingly out from the bar towards the commotion, mumbling something under his breath. “...fucking Tzeentch...cunts...oath..”
“Tender! These minors were unlawfully stealing our beverages!”.
Ormoran studied the pair of Screamers for a while, they were all twisted and screwed up all coloured in mixes of blue, pink and orange. The Deamon Prince snapped at the table.
“Oi you lot, get out!”. Hesitantly a Chaos Marine in full Terminator Armour emerged from under the table, followed by two more Chaos Marines in Terminator Armour. Ormoran folded his arms and glared down at the embarrased marines. “These brats should be punished!” Complained the Screamers, throwing up bits of flame. Deamon Prince Ormoran grabbed hold of the first protesting Chaos Terminator's shoulder armour and dragged him close to his face.
“What? I didn't do anything!” Protested the first Chaos Space Marine Terminator.
“What what? You didn't see the 'Only Deamons allowed' sign? Its not bloody well big enough for ya? Maybe if I beat ur head in with it, you'll see it proper aye?”
The Terminator struggled against Ormoran's Deamon Grip. “What do you mean I'm not allowed? I AM a Deamon! I turned Deamon last week!” Ormoran tilted his Deamon head to the right, provoking the struggling Terminator's Terminator buddies to make for the door.
“Right, thats what you've been pulling on me for months Abbaddon! Don't piss down my back and tell me its bloody rainin'! Now piss off!”
“Aww, can't I have one drink?”
“No”
“Can I get a drink to take outside?”
“No”
“How about something to eat?”
“Piss off Abbaddon!”
“Grr!” Abbaddon regained his composure annd stormed out of the bar with his Terminator retuine buddies. “Stupid Deamon Prince Bartender Bastards!”
The Screamers mopped their flaming brows, which happened to be currently stationed under their feet (stupid Tzeentch), and thanked the Deamon Prince.
“Very well handled Tender. You may be dissmissed to your duties prior to this engagement.”
Deamon Prince Ormoran shook his head and walked back to the bar table.
“...fucking Tzeentch...bastards...stupid brows...”


As soon as Ormoran had reached the bar a group of Nurgle Deamons at the Warp Bar's pool table section oppossite the bar table had started arguing with a group of Tzeentch Deamons also playing pool and push was coming to shove.
“Bloody hell!” Ormoran sighed.
Greater Daemon of Khorne, Bloodthirster Molniya had also started sobbing and and throwing glasses at a table of Slaneesh Demonettes who in turn were throwing their glasses back at him.
“Oh fuck!”
The Screamers at table 4 were shaking their tentacles and screwed up hand things seeking the Bar tenders attention. “Tender! Tender! Theres something in my glass!”
“Bloody Screamers!”
A Tzeentch lesser Deamon reeled back from the pool table area with half its face rotting away rapidly and a Nurgle Deamon on fire crashed through a pool table.
“Ah fuck it!”
The Bar Tender seated himself behind the bar table and poured himself a drink while enjoying the destruction of his bar.
“I bet the Tzeentch will win this one, they've got that scary as hell scorpion thing, the one that resembles a snail smashed to pieces by the latest Deamonic ritual Tome 'It's a funny old pastime'.” Abbaddon had seated himself next to Ormoran.
“Man the destruction they help cause in my crusades.”
Ormoran took a large swig of his dark green dhfasdf and turned to the Chaos Dark Lord.

“No shit, we ain't called Deamons Of Chaos for nothing!”
 
#24 ·
Warp Bar 4.
Its shit, don't read it. I'm running out of Ideas, so heres more useless fiction I can throw at you.


“Curses! Emperor have mercy” Admiral Heth of the Imperator class battleship “Blight” was ruined. Upon falling into a ambush while traveling through the warp, he had lost three ships. Three! If and when he would return to Imperial space, there was nothing to guarantee his own safety, primarily from the Imperial court martials and bureaucracy wanting to know how the hell he had lost three good ships.
“Argh!” The ships navigator suddenly shouted in despair. Heth's desperation turned to rage, now he had more problems to worry about.
“What the fuck is it?!”
“We've just passed a disco full of dancing Slaanesh and Khorne Greater Daemons.”
“...oh”

“What is this!?”
“Pass it up! Pass it you bloody...”
“Argh! What the fuck!?!”
“Yeah!!!”
“Kill the bastards!! Urah!”

“Hmm” thought Daemon Prince Ormoran. “Footy season.” As sure as Daemon Prince Ormoran's dark red bow tie, he was right. It was truly footy season and most of the Daemons from around the warp had come down to the Warp Bar to watch the ETFL. Eye of Terror Football League. From what Ormoran could make out of the crowd packing the establishment, it seemed the Khorne Bezerkers were playing against their rivals the Tzeentch Thousand Sons and the Thousand Sons seemed to be winning.

“Yeah!” Bring him on!”
“Bring on the bastard!”
They wouldn't be in the lead very long as the Berserkers coach had just brought on Kharne the Betrayer, nobody knew if he was still suspended for tearing apart his own goal keeper and slaughtering half the opposing team. Wether or not they won, fist fights were sure to erupt among the crowd. It was footy season, thats what happend during footy season.

“Oi! What the fuck!?”
“Bullshit!”
“Get him off!”
“Stupid ref!”
“Unintentional!”

Soon as he had entered, Kharn was given a yellow card, this time it seemed he severed a Thousand Son defender's arm thus releasing the magic inside of him, dropping him to the ground lifelessly. Kharn seemed confused and shrugged his shoulders, showing no sign of knowledge leading to the Thousand Son's demise.
With Kharn back in the penalty box and Ahrim the Exile of the Thousand Sons leading the Thousand Sons forward, the Tzeentch scored another Miraculous goal.
“Woo!” Screamed Screamers, Keepers of secrets and various other Tzeentch Daemons.
Suddenly a Screamer was knocked off its seat as a BloodLetter of Khorne smashed its Pint Mug across the screamer's mutated face.
“Cunt!” The Blood Letter was assaulted by flame and Tzeentch Magic as his mates threw chairs furiously towards the Tzeentch. Clutching their axes, they charged the Tzeentch. In a flurry of blood, magic and fire the bar was turned into one savage footy brawl.

Ormoran smiled. By some traditional phenomenon both spectators in the bar and players on the tv screen simultaneously swarmed over each other, waving fists, axes, staffs and talons.
A mob of Bloodletters and Flesh Hounds wearing red scarfs with orange stripes waving flags sporting the Khorne symbol, clubbed down Tzeentch and unlucky patrons of the Warp Bar not shouting “Blood for the Blood God!”
Atop the Billiard tables, Keepers of Secrets and other Tzeentch Lesser Daemons wrapped in blue and pink scarfs waving fiery flags covered in the symbol of Tzeentch were summoning spells and firing sickly blots of lightning towards the Bloodthirsters kicking the shit out of a Tzeentch Greater Daemon. Chairs flew all over the room, lightning doom bolts exploded tables, a BloodLetter was gruesomely transformed into a writhing Chaos Spawn which tore apart some of its Blood Letter mates, a Catachan lunged a wailing Tzeentch Lesser Daemon through the bar's only window and a Bloodthirster roared atop the bar intoxicated with alcohol. “Blood for the Blood God!”

“Change is gonna fuck you up!”
“Skulls for the Skull throne!!”
“Praise Change!!”
“Take it argh!”
“Bezerkers fuck yeah!”
“..and I sure love fightin'!”
“Thousand Sons For the Win!!”

The savage bar frenzy lasted for hours until the last Daemon was left standing. On the television screen, Kharn was bashing Ahrim with the end of Arhim's staff and Thousand Sons Chaos Marines lay dead and dying all over the football pitch while the Khorne Bezerkers fought each other.
The scene was replaced suddenly by the Daemon Prince commentator who was wearing a formal black suit with tie and was clutching onto a mic. “Ha! A bloody great game, with no Tzeentch players remaining and half their team still in tact its another victory for the Khorne Bezerkers. It seems our Thousand Sons need to get their act together if they wanna beat their rivals. Next week! The Red Corsairs tackle the Death Guard!”

The rest of the day/night (whatever it is in the warp) “Blood for the Blood God” and cheers were heard coming from the Warp Bar as the Tzeentch still alive skulked home, another loss to their loathed rivals, the Khorne Bezerkers.

When the Warp Bar was finally empty, Ormoran cleaned and emptied the remains of Tzeentch and Khorne Daemons, broken furniture and smashed glasses. Preparing for next weeks Football Season Chaos.
 
This is an older thread, you may not receive a response, and could be reviving an old thread. Please consider creating a new thread.
Top