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STORY CONCEPT FROM: LÉOON AGAIN
The following is based on a true story. Any resemblance to real people – living or dead, names and locations can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have been warned.
You see, on this hour of days, Crim and his sweater had been beguiling through the library he had rented out from Tzeentch, who had to get the cash to pay off Slaanesh for some shit the god needed to stay quiet. Xarok had warned Crim of the deadly dangers that lurked between the Hidden Library’s shelves (he had been there before), buttCrim, still not entirely understanding the old wolf’s dead language, never heeded his scary warning.
The little dog had grown bored of the kid’s section, and ventured out to the farthest reaches of the infinite maze of tomes and spellbooks. Here and there, he’d pull out a fine publication, glance across the indecipherable title, and crack open the spine only to close it just as quickly to stop the screaming voices in his head.
Realizing all the books were more or less like this, he decided to find the comic books section, and headed due north based on his Go Go Gadget wristwatch/compass he recently found in a happy meal. Of course, due north changed once or twice a second in this place, so he went in a lot of circles for a while. Eventually, he went past a corner of maddening legers, and saw the first living creature he had glimpsed in days.
It was one of Tzeentch’s greater daemons, holding a staff of matchless power. The horrible elongated parody of a bird was deep in concentration over a book of some sort, muttering something under its breath. Crim unwisely attempted communication with it:
“Is this the anime section?” he asked terribly. Thankfully, the beast did not hear him, or didn’t care, as it didn’t quickly incinerate the lad. However, that wouldn’t keep our boy Crim from playing another round of Russian roulette as he approached the emaciated monstrosity.
With an imbecility unheard of since the days of Brosheep, Crim tugged at the hem of the daemon’s robe. It started, nearly dropping its staff on the scrub. Now that he had the thing’s deadly attention, Crim queried, “What’s that you’re readin’?” He could not have received a worse answer.
The blue, beaked miscreation gazed down, and in a guttural voice inimitable by any humans save one, responded, “It’s about molesting young boys!”
Crim took a step back, realizing all too late the error of his ways.
The colossal monster turned towards him, holding up the purple novel for all to see, and repeated, louder, “IT’S ABOUT MOLESTING YOUNG BOYS!" It continued its description, "HOW TO DO IT!”
Crim began running for his innocence at this point, hoping for the love of Tzeentch this bird was not fast like an ostrich or a roadrunner. But Tzeentch had no love, least of all for Crim.
It opened its many-toothed beak again in its twisted version of anger, making a noise that sounded like a rumbling “HAAAAaaaa!” and gave chase.
(Fun fact: These events occurred outside of the realm of time and therefore happened both before and after Crim was brutally slain by Xarok. Hope that clears it up.)
The following is based on a true story. Any resemblance to real people – living or dead, names and locations can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have been warned.
You see, on this hour of days, Crim and his sweater had been beguiling through the library he had rented out from Tzeentch, who had to get the cash to pay off Slaanesh for some shit the god needed to stay quiet. Xarok had warned Crim of the deadly dangers that lurked between the Hidden Library’s shelves (he had been there before), buttCrim, still not entirely understanding the old wolf’s dead language, never heeded his scary warning.
The little dog had grown bored of the kid’s section, and ventured out to the farthest reaches of the infinite maze of tomes and spellbooks. Here and there, he’d pull out a fine publication, glance across the indecipherable title, and crack open the spine only to close it just as quickly to stop the screaming voices in his head.
Realizing all the books were more or less like this, he decided to find the comic books section, and headed due north based on his Go Go Gadget wristwatch/compass he recently found in a happy meal. Of course, due north changed once or twice a second in this place, so he went in a lot of circles for a while. Eventually, he went past a corner of maddening legers, and saw the first living creature he had glimpsed in days.
It was one of Tzeentch’s greater daemons, holding a staff of matchless power. The horrible elongated parody of a bird was deep in concentration over a book of some sort, muttering something under its breath. Crim unwisely attempted communication with it:
“Is this the anime section?” he asked terribly. Thankfully, the beast did not hear him, or didn’t care, as it didn’t quickly incinerate the lad. However, that wouldn’t keep our boy Crim from playing another round of Russian roulette as he approached the emaciated monstrosity.
With an imbecility unheard of since the days of Brosheep, Crim tugged at the hem of the daemon’s robe. It started, nearly dropping its staff on the scrub. Now that he had the thing’s deadly attention, Crim queried, “What’s that you’re readin’?” He could not have received a worse answer.
The blue, beaked miscreation gazed down, and in a guttural voice inimitable by any humans save one, responded, “It’s about molesting young boys!”
Crim took a step back, realizing all too late the error of his ways.
The colossal monster turned towards him, holding up the purple novel for all to see, and repeated, louder, “IT’S ABOUT MOLESTING YOUNG BOYS!" It continued its description, "HOW TO DO IT!”
Crim began running for his innocence at this point, hoping for the love of Tzeentch this bird was not fast like an ostrich or a roadrunner. But Tzeentch had no love, least of all for Crim.
It opened its many-toothed beak again in its twisted version of anger, making a noise that sounded like a rumbling “HAAAAaaaa!” and gave chase.
(Fun fact: These events occurred outside of the realm of time and therefore happened both before and after Crim was brutally slain by Xarok. Hope that clears it up.)
Category Artwork (Digital) / Comics
Species Avian (Other)
Size 1240 x 840px
File Size 103.7 kB
After Xarok quickly but quietly split Crim asunder, the little tot had been transported to what is merely known as the Warp.
Of course, ole Crim thought nothing of it and simply praised the great warrior wolf, thinking he had sent the young boy to the biggest McDonald's playground ever imaginable. The true result, however, was far less sinister.
Xarok had long been a worshiper of Khorne, and had the head of a beast to prove it, but Crim knew little of this, probably not at all, and began to stupidly dabble in the infinite sorceries of Tzeentch.
Fortunately, Crim knows not how to cast balls of psychic Warp fire from he hands, but should Xarok ever see this, he might rend Crim's soul once more. Probably at least eight times, however.
Of course, ole Crim thought nothing of it and simply praised the great warrior wolf, thinking he had sent the young boy to the biggest McDonald's playground ever imaginable. The true result, however, was far less sinister.
Xarok had long been a worshiper of Khorne, and had the head of a beast to prove it, but Crim knew little of this, probably not at all, and began to stupidly dabble in the infinite sorceries of Tzeentch.
Fortunately, Crim knows not how to cast balls of psychic Warp fire from he hands, but should Xarok ever see this, he might rend Crim's soul once more. Probably at least eight times, however.
These are fine words my stout buckles. I feel like you know more than you let on.
Good strat.
Anyway, the dog is in this hellhole because he put himself there. There is no other cure my friend other than to grab your own ass with both hands and run out of there. Just run. Run. Run until the day is gone and you wake up with a new life. Run.
Good strat.
Anyway, the dog is in this hellhole because he put himself there. There is no other cure my friend other than to grab your own ass with both hands and run out of there. Just run. Run. Run until the day is gone and you wake up with a new life. Run.
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