Post by chrisr on Sept 6, 2017 21:21:45 GMT
Melchior was unhappy. He sat on a rock and stared straight forward. It was difficult to tell his state of mind from his features; a daemonic visage isn't designed to express a wide range of emotion. But he was unhappy.
He had been summoned by Papa Nurgle and told to prepare for an excursion to the physical realm. Then he had received a message from that hermaphrodite poseur, Slaanesh telling him that he had to choose between keeping his wings or keeping his magic.
He'd immediately popped over to see the youngest of the Gods (Strictly speaking it was the atmosphere he disappeared from that made the popping noise not Melchior) and asked why. 'Because that way it'll be more fun. After all that's what it's about isn't it? It's the experience that counts not the outcome'. This made no sense to Melchior so he called on Khorne.
Unfortunately Khorne had no sympathy at all - 'What would you need magic for lad? Cold steel and wings to get you there. Then heads off in all directions, fountains of blood, gushers of gore, lovely stuff. Stop whining, start killing!' and more in that vein.
Seeking some support he then visited old chicken neck himself, Tzeentch. 'Well you've had both wings and magic in the past, so if you kept them it would be boring wouldn't it? You know what they say - ''A change is as good as a rest''. And change helps you grow as an individual. It's the way we cope with change that marks out our personal development. I'm all in favour of change. Just a hint - keep the magic, ditch the wings'
Last stop was his patron - Papa Nurgle. Nurgle was very understanding; 'I know it's galling'. But also no help; 'We did agree to let Slaanesh have a turn at setting the rules of the game this year'
So here he was wingless and cross. He looked across at Otto. Otto was hovering there on his disc. He wondered if Otto ever put any of his 3 feet on solid ground. Then dismissed the thought. Otto wasn't a friend as such, but he'd been Melchior's standard bearer for a long time.
'Any news?' he asked.
'None yet' replied Otto. 'We are still waiting to find out who we're supposed to kill'
'Well I wish they'd get on with it. I have a feeling I'm not going to enjoy this excursion as much as I hoped. How's the army shaping up?'
'I've borrowed your brother's pet chimera, Fluffy. There's a small group of Skullcrushers - frothing nutters to my way of thinking. A group of Chaos Warriors devoted to Nurgle. And a rather strange Warshrine. Judging by the giant toad pulling it, it should belong to Papa, but the Shrinemaster insists it's dedicated to Tzeentch. He says the toad's just chrome. Suits me just fine. I'm trying to get a few other lads along but that's the core.'
Melchior studied his claws. How much longer before he could take his frustration out on some hapless living things?
C