#warhammer what ifs

[sculptorofcrimson]

An immortality without life

I have decided to go on a lost little ramble.

~~~~~~~

Stitch one together from blasphemy and bone. Sew his soul from stone and frost. Build a monster from plunder and enemies, rob a child from a sobbing mother’s breast and turn him into a weapon, a dog to be beaten into your will. Turn your back on the rites on Nature, build a hunter for sin, write your obsession in bone and ink. 

Make him the finest he shall ever be. 

He shall soon be another conquest. Another perfect, effortless victory. Perfection has been attained, in every ink-laden, frost-eaten, perfect way beneath a heartless storm. 

He had killed the last of the Thunder Warriors upon a snow bitten ridge, the storm’s fury on his spear, the air tasting of ash upon his tongue, the blood of a friend on his armor, the victory as sweet and as bitter as the memories his lord had beaten from him. 

They burned, they fought, and they died like candles in the night. But before they snuffed out they burned as brilliantly as a final, vengeful funeral pyre in the night, raging against the dying light one last time, for one last spite, one last stone cast. This is the day, this is the day they died.

Heft your blade, spear a friend, watch the life fade from his eyes, listen to the way he laughed, one last time, that easy, obstreperous glint passing away in one final ragged gasp. Bury a corpse betrayed, drown his memory beneath stone and cement and iron, forget he was at all, forget he fought at your side once upon a time. 

They are not the future. They are simply a rehash of the past, the new picking up the torch that had scalded the old, the newest of warriors thrown to the lines to die as shields and swords. And it shall be the same, for tragedy never ends, and treachery never dies. 

Sink the blade, end him here, blood upon the snow, blood upon your cloak, blood upon your blade. 

The execution was flawless. The combat was effortless. And therein lies the true blasphemy of it all, in its sheer ease, in the way he died without a funeral dirge, without a warcry, with only the cold gauntlets of a traitor around him.

I obeyed. And paid the price. 

Perhaps Valdor had a heart underneath all that gold, all that frost. But if he truly had a heart, he killed it long ago, and buried it beneath the snows of Maulland Sen. That heart is dead, crushed to ashes, ground to dust beneath auramite boots and thundering screams. 

Ten thousand years. Ten thousand years passed, he never quite did find a suitable reply that could have made Ushotan laugh one last time, laugh as wryly as comrades upon the field should have laughed. One last time, one last fight, one last blade in the heart, to know he had been at least admired, if not beloved, by the Captain-General. 

Even if he had a heart, Valdor drowned it long ago, crushed beneath the weight of his duties and the ink of his sins. But what if he didn’t kill him? What if he had spared that one, final Thunder Warrior, the same way he spared Kandawire?

[forgottenbones]

Life on the Death World of CATACHAN | Warhammer 40k Lore

[kit-williams]

Act of Devotion

Male Lead: Captain Arkyn Joriki Universe/Au: Warhammer 40k/Yandere Space Marines Canon Status: It's canon.

Okay here me out... its a bit of a hurt/comfort....

How could he not show her his devotion? That thought plagued him... just like when their time together had ended. Sure at first he was saddened as he enjoyed that plucky young guardswoman. Then the days drug on... and on... and on. It drove him mad. How slowly did time tick... the feeling that he had lost something... someone precious... a once in a mortal lifetime sort of person.

Mortal frontlines were brutal and quickly stank of the dead. Yet as the years pulled on... as the way his smiles no longer met his eyes... the dourness in his moods as he ate up any and all information he could about his Elskling's front her lines... he couldn't find anything about her that would trigger suspicion and he was not going to have the Inquisition hold something over his head! But... that long winter had settled in and wrapped around Arkyn's bones.

He had to come to terms that she was gone... she haunted his nights sometimes of the what ifs and could have been. The smile she gave... the laughs she had... the moans they shared... he wasn't expecting to have found what he wanted on a battlefield nestled between her legs. They had fun in more ways then one... it was hardly about the sex as it was more about how they were content... how they laughed... how he let her cry...

And then she was back. A more mature voice... a decade does rough things to a mortal body. Though she said his name with the same warmth and fondness as when he last left her... how could he not have done what he did?

He showed his devotion by stealing his Elskling away. How once the shock of what happened wore off she was a spitting viper and mad as hell at him. He understood! He wasn't a complete fool... he knew what he had done was wrong but... it was either her being in his arms... or him watching her die. He's explained it all to her before... his reasons why... he's said it so many times... he peels open his heart each time.

He tries so very hard to get her to speak with him the same fondness as before. How his yellow brown eyes look to her with unsaid apologies because he wasn't sorry for what he did... he was sorry for how she felt. He would do it again with no hesitation. He tries to have her understand. His brothers are sympathetic to his plight as unhappy partners are a common thing but it always hurts to get to the good part... the part where those platitude statements of love and sex fall from their lips.

He notices all the small things... that should have been his first sign a decade ago... how he could remember how she liked her recaf... how she would sneak some spices into her mac and cheese ration... how the one with bacon bits was one of her favorite and she always tried to trade for those. He could hear it in her conversations with the other partners... how she talks about things she misses... and he tries his best. While he is a more meat of the land sort of man she enjoys her meat from the water... his room is full of small things he has picked out for her.

Even if she is still mad at him the way her eyes soften as he tells her about his time away from her and he has brought her a gift... or something for her to do her hobby... a recipe book or two lays on his shelf next to dataslates full of seasons of some show she loves. Arkyn tries... he really does... he still knows how she likes her recaf in the morning and every morning he can't help but make sure its ready and waiting for her with her favorite mug... and every night he can tell its been used.

He knows it might be awhile before she will warm up to him again. Arkyn is fine with that... simply having her here with him again... to know she is safe... is enough for him to suffer her ire. Because him taking her with him is his highest act of devotion towards her... because he loved her so much he suffered from afar... he would rather suffer from close if she was to be like winter to him.

He placed the cup of recaf by her as she watched some snow fall out the window. He felt her smile warm his skin as she leaned against him and he forced himself to sit lest he lose this moment of affection. Snow was as natural as rain to him he didn't see what she saw but he could see such wonder in her eyes. He bit his tongue to tease her how much she will learn to have a healthy respect for the snow.

"Do you have to be somewhere?" She asks softly.

"No." He replies before he thinks before the meetings that will wait on him lest he linger for too long.

The silence was deafening for him as he listened to her heart beating inside of her chest. "Do... do you think we could make some mac and cheese tonight. I-"

"Lunch we can. I got you some fish to cook up for tonight." Arkyn replies.

"Are you going to be around for lunch?"

"Aye."

He watched her smile at him. "I'll make sure to make enough for the both of us."

Even if he came back and the bowl was only slightly cold... the simple fact that she would leave him a bowl or a plate of food... well Arkyn remembers several of those early nights just eating that food... food made for him... he remembers the happiness as he was able to shake off winter that clung to his bones. He feels her lean against him as he allowed himself to be a couple minutes... fifteen at most... late. And all felt right in Arkyn's world.

Taglist @bispecsual @the-californicationist @egrets-not-regrets @libraryshadow @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

[seriously-mike]

Extremely Stupid AI-Generated Shit

(that is still kinda funny, anyway)

Those little freaks are the result of the following prompt:

Glurb snorf thwip krazl vomp yurgle zibble frunx quorl plimf drax gnurk jibbit flox zark welp thrum skork plund frazzle mreep

Top image comes from Midjourney, the bottom two are probably DALL-E 3 (the last is certainly DALL-E 3, the middle I'm not sure but it does look like it). To make this even weirder (and funnier), Bing Image Creator considers "Glurb" an unacceptable word.

Okay. I did refer to oblong, roundish, organic shapes as "blorps" a couple of times, but this looks like someone posted his kid's drawings of weird critters on the internet a long time ago, the algorithms yoinked them unceremoniously along with the descriptions, and just like that red t-shirt that turned the entire load of your laundry pink that one time, weird kid drawings pounded into mathemagical fairy dust along with more typical fairy tale and fantasy illustrations resulted in the weird names assigned to... this.

This is merely a selection of pics generated from this prompt, but the overall concept tied to it are creepy round-bodied creatures for Midjourney, goofy cartoonish Monsters Inc. for DALL-E 3, and...

I just scrolled through the post and found results for various Stable Diffusion data models. And Stable Diffusion, ladies and gentlemen, consistently responds with goblins.

This Warhammer miniature-styled thug fell out of Stable Cascade, the weird semi-forgotten uncooperative child. For the result of a string of completely nonsensical words, he's surprisingly coherent, with a fairly regular number of fingers AND toes. Of course the details like his kneepads are still blorpy, but that's how Stable Diffusion rolls, even three years, four major versions and a shitton of fine-tuned custom models in.

And SDXL custom model called FenrisXL provides an entire fucking family of goblins. What is going on here, because my assumptions regarding Stable Diffusion and SDXL in particular just have been challenged.

First, the Kitten Effect is less pronounced than it was in the early versions of the algorithm, if it happens at all. I'll chalk it up to improvements in the XL algorithm. Second, they're cartoonish goblins, but the Same Face Syndrome usual for the XL algorithm (every fucking custom model I tried suffers from it, no ifs, no buts) is less pronounced here than it is in case of human characters. Third, how in the FUCK an entire family of goblins spewed forth from a prompt consisting of gibberish has almost perfect and repeated anatomy, not counting the orphaned hand on the goblin girl's shoulder and an extra toe on the guy second from left in the front row? And varied skin and hair colors?

I can only explain it with someone lucking out on the seed number, much like I lucked out on the entire Chinese Garden test last year.

Still, though. Goblins. Fairly solid in custom models, messier in the core SDXL 1.0 (below), without any meaningful words in the prompt.

Where the fuck are they coming from? This is some serious Horse K shit and I refuse to investigate it any further. Much less add other weird phrases like "Yakka foob mog!" or "Kov schmoz, ka-pop?" to it and test it on my build (or even Photobooth from Hell in particular). It's late and my brain is giving up.

[aninamated]

What would the alien characters think of Warhammer 40k? I mean, it might make them wary of Neil, especially if he might have played it himself or an equivalent in your story?

I'm not sure how they'd even know? Neil plays only retro games. Besides, there are so many games/stories/general media on earth alone. And what even is real or isn't? Warhammer is still a game after all. You could also wonder what the other aliens would think of, let's say, guardians of the galaxy.

Considering how big other empires in TEG's universe are, I think they have barely a reason to be afraid of Neil. That's all just background info though, we're nowhere close to getting those stories yet (TEG is still a school-focused series after all)

I'm not one to make references to other properties (unless for a funny joke, and I don't know enough about warhammer to make a clever joke). Having warhammer thrown into the mix of games Neil plays, would alter the narrative quite a lot, so it's all just 'what ifs' at this point.

[the-night-that-feeds-if]

Okay I’m too shy and awkward to actually write this as not-nonny but still, after I read your lore post, wanted to nerd out hehe

First, you used to paint minis??? That’s so cool!!I used to watch a lot of videos when I first got into DnD and how people made the maps/dungeons and all that good stuff. I’ve always been fascinated by dioramas so when I found the fantasy version of those I was ecstatic to say the least hehe I don’t really have the chance to play DnD as I don’t have people who are interested, but I’ve been enjoying some solo journaling TTRPG lately and it’s been really fun! (Apawthecaria is my fave and I suggest check it out if you were interested in Wanderhome)

Second, as a fellow artist I really relate to the need of always make something and it’s inspiring to see others make their own stuff, not matter the form! As somebody who struggles with mental health as well, make art, read ifs and get inspired by others creators has helped me a lot through the years.

I’m really sorry to hear about your chronic disease but, I really hope that things will get a little better and more manageable, at least a bit, with time 💕

Going back to your if, I’m really curious about the Void and what inspired you for the concept of it? Also, I can’t wait for the descriptions of monsters and fight scenes in case we’ll get some of those ✨

Thank you so much for writing an ask! I can tell you have a lot of passion here :3

I made dioramas for my homebrew dnd setting when I was a teen, I made a sculpting material from salt, flour, water and then sculpted on canvas boards and painted it with acrylics when it dried. I want to make more elaborate ones once I have the space to!

It's difficult to find a group to play with, I've only had two groups, one in person that fell apart, and now my fiance and I have a bunch of amazing online buddies that we play with over discord. I actually met my bff on tiktok when I was on there after I made a dragonage video and we bonded lmao, he's a great buddy. I hope you'll be able to find some people to play with.

Also thank you for the rec, I will definitely check it out!! The only solo journaling game I was planning on playing was thousand year old vampire.

I really appreciate your kind words, I'm definitely a lot better off than I was a year ago, and things are starting to get even better for me physically and mentally.

I absolutely talking to fellow artists, and please send me more asks, or if you ever feel up to it, you can message me on here to nerd out. I love talking to people and hearing about projects and stuff. That also goes for anyone who feels like making a buddy online, I love making friends lol.

And the void was inspired by the Weave in the forgotten realms dnd and also the Warp in warhammer with my own little world separation/dimension stuff that I was thinking about for my old dnd homebrew!

[askrobouteguilliman40k]

I think they were asking if that was a fan au or an official au made by games workshop. Not whether it was canon to actual 40k.

There are no official AUs in Warhammer, just the canon.

What ifs are fan made.

[skxrbrand]

MUSE FEELINGS

Happiness

being unable to stop smiling. laughter. bear hugs. happy tears. waving arms around. dancing. contently sighing. eyes twinkling. laugh lines. childlike playfulness. skipping. talking more. affection. cracking more jokes than usual. gesturing more when talking. higher pitched voice. squealing. jumping around. clapping.  

Sadness

tearing up. self-hugging. one-arm cross. an aching chest. scratchy throat. a runny nose. turning away. deep breaths. quivery smiles. crying. infantile sobbing. hands gripping each other or an object. covering mouth. puffy eyes. eyes appear red. running makeup. voice breaking. a distant or empty stare. monotone voice. asking for comfort. faking a smile. crumbling. shaking. whimpering. depression. abusing an unhealthy habit. withdrawing from others. big teary eyes. doing something even if it could hurt them.

Anger

furrowed brows. baring teeth. passive-aggressive comments. avoiding eye contact. sarcasm. headache. sore muscles. hiding clenched fists. irritability. jumping to conclusions. raising voice. going silent. demanding immediate action. keeping it all in until exploding. body tensing. making risky decisions. middle finger. physical assault.

Fear

wanting to flee or hide. what-ifs. images of what-could-be flashing in mind. uncontrollable trembling. rapid breathing. screaming. a skewed sense of time. irritability. keeping silent. denying fear. turning away from the cause. pretending to be brave. nail-biting. lip-biting. scratching skin. a joking tone but a voice that cracks. fainting. insomnia. panic attacks. exhaustion. substance abuse. tics. rushing adrenaline. face draining of colour. hair lifting on the back of the neck. feeling rooted to the spot. making body as small as possible. staring but not seeing. crying. a shrill voice. whispering. gripping something or someone. stuttering. flinching at noises. pleading.

Exhaustion

constantly yawning. slurring words together. dark circles or lines under eyes. mood swings. hallucinations. calling people by the wrong name. dizziness. denying they’re tired. slow blinking. trouble concentrating. stumbling. leaning on a doorframe for support. sluggish movements. falling asleep someplace that isn’t a bed. becoming irritated by the smallest things. “i’m awake, i’m fine.” shaking so bad they spill their drink. fall asleep in their clothes. lay their head on the table because they’re so tired. passing out.

Tagged by: @xaallo​

Tagging: @alphabitchnkari, @shamanickeep, @vehxmence, @warhammer-fantasy-muses, @apexeno, @laplacemail, @luckydxy, @ofdjaf​

[sanguiniusreborn]

Out of character what's your opinion on the alternate heresy timelines. AKA dornian heresy and guilleman's I refuse to even consider touching his last name. Also in character what do you think of them?

//This is honestly an excellent question (and I apologize for the MASSIVE delay in response, nonnie)

//I think both are INCREDIBLE storylines that were lovingly constructed by the Warhammer community as 'what if's. I believe that if they were canon, they'd be no less devastating then the Horus Heresy itself.

In character Sanguinius is horrified at these what-ifs. Horus's betrayal was horrific enough, the mere idea of HIM becoming a traitor, or even the other two pains him greatly.

[askrobouteguilliman40k]

I remember this Warhammer Chronicles. (Game Workshops official monthly comic series)

They did a bunch of what ifs, swapping 40k and Fantasy characters around, it was fun.

as i promised @sjokoladekjeksen , here’s the genderbent 40k Malus Darkblade comic :) (sorry for the shitty photos 😭)

[funboxsupreme]

I do wish there were more well-written, long form warhammer 40k fics that don’t constantly suck off the Imperium. It seems like the most popular ones are either Alt Heresies or ‘The Imperium is good actually’ type fix it fics and not much else.

[katlyn1948]

“The Archer” from “Lover”

So I finished it...took me like three weeks, but I had a severe case of writer’s block so...

A lot of the time it was just me staring at the computer screen thinking of what the hell to write, but I figured the shit out! 

I would like to warn you that I have ONE line of dialogue in the story. Literally just one. It is filling with a lot of emotions and angst, so you have been warned! 

Anyway, hope you enjoy! 

Be my wife. Be the Lady of Storm’s End

The words echoed through Arya’s head as she mindlessly wandered through the desolate castle. The rest of her family al with whoever lived through the battle, were all gathered in the great hall feasting to the victory.

Although she knew the immediate threat was nothing more than a pile of ice, the threat hundreds of miles away was still at large. She needed to focus on the task at hand and not the “what ifs” she left in the storeroom.

Arya expected Gendry to find her after the battle. She had left so abruptly; before the horns were even called and before he had a chance to awaken from his slumber. The actions of their coupling were ones she would never forget, yet she knew that it could create a lot of unanswered questions, especially if they survived the battle.

She had not expected to live; none of them did, yet here they were celebrating; trying to forget that there was still another battle to be fought and won.

She was ready for combat yet seeing the look of joy and happiness in Gendry’s eyes made her question whether she truly was ready.

As she wondered through the hallways, her mind kept drawing up hundreds of speeches she could have-should have said to him, but they all remained unspoken. It was not like her to have those thoughts swirl around her head. She was the kind of person to stick to her wits and to never let anyone change her mind otherwise. Unless, of course, it was her family.

Was he her family?

No, because if he were, then he would have left with her all those years ago.

She finally reached her destination, quickly latching the lock of the door behind her as she entered her bedroom.

She needed seclusion; time to herself, to think about what had transpired between she and Gendry.

If Arya were to go back to the feast, her sister would take one look at her face ahs realize something was amiss. Normally, she was good at keeping her expressions and feelings at bay, but the realization that Gendry lover her more than a friend (and she most certainly felt the same way) shocked her to her core. So much so, that it made her body flush with heat.

Her rooms were considered the coldest in the castle, and although it has never bothered her before, she needed the cool stone to quench her heated body. She stripped quickly, perhaps faster than her night with Gendry, discarding her breeches and jerkin. She nearly threw her shift off, but quickly came to her senses and realized she would need some layer of protection between the cold air and her nearly naked form.

The fires had nearly died down and the tub filled with hot water was beginning to cool. She gathered her small frame on a chair perched by the fireplace and watched as the last embers slowly extinguished.

The only light left was provided by two flickered candle sticks, one on the nightstand by her feather bed and the other on a table in the corner of her room.

Darkness never scared Arya. There had been many a night through her life where there was nothing but darkness surrounding her. Her mind had plunged into a layer of darkness so profound that she was sure there was no way of finding a guiding light. Yet, as her time here with her family and the realization that she was no longer alone seeped into the crevasses of her darken mind, she could finally see the small flickering candle in the distance, and that’s what scared her the most.

The pieces of Arya Stark that she had buried so long ago where now crashing through with such a force, that she was sure that she would break. Raw emotion had taken over and Arya had now lost control.

It was terrifying for her to think that she no longer could control the one thing she had control of for so long: her life. She had a plan and although there were some alternate paths that she had taken to complete that plan, she had never expected love to take over.

How could anyone love me?

The question was simple, yet empowering.

Arya was sure she was surrounded by people who loved her, she just could not understand why. With everything that she had done to get her life where it was at that very moment would be shunned by many of the Gods. Even Sansa was mortified by her bag of faces not so long ago.

Yet, even her hard exterior, nor her skillful abilities deterred Gendry’s feelings.

If he was mortified of who she had become, then he would not have sought her out during the feast. He would have not professed his love to her; bearing his heart and soul for her to see. She did not hide who she was with him, not while on those grain sacks. Not while his fingers glided over her scars, gently rubbing them as if to make them disappear. Not while his lips had captured her as she slowly glided down the base of his cock.

He could have asked her a thousand questions, she knew this, but instead he let her take the reigns and enjoy what very well could have been their last night alive.

Gendry had proved to Arya that, despite her past, he was willing to love her and cherish until his dying breath.

He was the only one who could see right through her façade, gazing upon the most intimate parts of her soul, that it nearly shook her to her core.

It was a surprise to see that someone still cared about the girl she used to be and not the girl she had to become.

But she couldn’t let the prospect of a “what if” get in her way of finishing her list.

She would ride off to King’s Landing and she would kill Cersei, even if it meant her demise.

Shaking the creeping thought from her mind, she lifted from the chair and blew out the last remaining light in her chambers. She buried herself under the furs and prayed to the Gods that sleep would take her from this day.

Her body was still weak from the battle; her muscles screaming as she stretched them thin.

Although the furs were plenty, Arya could still feel the slight chill in the air as she drifted to darkness. It reminded her of the nights she had to spend under the stars or in the rain; never fully being able to get warm.

Once dipped into deep sleep, she found that her mind ran wild with dreams and thoughts that she tried to keep at bay when awake. Her conscious was thrust into a world of wonder and fantasies that she had no time for. But just as soon as those dreams went, the nightmares came.

The bright happiness that had taken over her mind were quickly diminished by the cold grasp of icy fingers squeezing the life out her. She had grabbed her dagger, yet it was no where to be found. The grip around her neck began to tighten and she was sure that her life was now slipping, but she saw something from the corner of her eye. A figure that looked all to familiar.

He had his dragon glass Warhammer at the ready, charging to the monster ahead of him.

The actions were so quick, that Arya barely had any time to react.

The grip on her neck loosened and the monster turned, plunging his icy sword into the raging bull.  

Arya tried to scream, tried to crawl to where his now limp body lay. She could see the blood pooling on the white snow, staining it crimson. His eyes were beginning to glass and Arya tried to reach for him, tried to hold onto his hand one last time, but the point was moot. The monster had returned his attention back to her, his sword at the ready. She knew her life would be ending, and although she had never been afraid of death, she did not want to see if happen.

She closed her eyes and took one last breath before meeting her demise.

She woke with a gasp, clutching her chest as she sat up from her bed.

Her furs were soaked with sweat and the weight of them on her small body was suffocating.

Arya stumbled out of her bed and began to pace the room, trying to bring the air back to her lungs. It was like the room around her was on fire, invisible smoke suffocating her even further.

She knew what this was, and she had to calm her beating heart before the panic became worse.

Although the events that had played out in her nightmare were nothing but that, she couldn’t help but feel the heaving reality of it all.

Breathing slowly, she tried to ease her nerves and bring herself back to the room she was standing in, not the snow-covered ground with seeping crimson blood. Arya shook the imaging from her head, bringing herself down from the panic.

She sat herself on her bed once more, trying to regain her composure.

At that moment, in her dark cold room, she wanted him. She wanted his strong arms to hold on to her and tell her that everything would be alright. She needed the false hopes and affirmations of peace. She needed to be told that her whole family would not meet their demise in the war to come.

She needed to be put back to together.

But why fill herself with these falsities if she knew exactly what they were?

She could not be put back together, no matter how hard he tried.

So, steading herself once more, she slipped under her furs and stared at the stone ceiling.

“I’m ready for combat.” And waited for day to come.

[marquis-teren-kiden]

(IC) #92

[OOC: This one will, in actuality, be entrenched deeply in the context of the circumstances underpinning their first encounter. Because She is abrasive as hell, and Teren has never met a negotiation table he wasn’t willing to walk away from. I’ll give them neutral terrain and space for a ranged evaluation based on skills and job performance before they have an opportunity to piss one another off.]

Lordaeron 08.24.37

With a coterie of Req Hunters and his Guardian beside him, Teren makes his way onto the battlefield, shearing through the minds and bodies of those foolish enough to bar his path until an eruption of Light forces his attentions hard to his left; a lone Kal’Dorei stands surrounded by immolating Undead; with dozens more closing in on her. Behind her, the largest cache of Blight he’s ever seen. “Light and Shadows we have to neutralize it!”

Turning to lend his own resources to their aid, he watches with admiration as the curiously shaped sword being wielded carves through the bodies with damning ease; it’s owner tic-tacking along walls and bodies as she repositions herself several times.

As he draws nearer, he spies the vague hint of a smile along the otherwise masked features, chuckling to himself. “I suspect she’s no need for rescue, but let us continue our press to the Inner Courtyard in her favor.”

Having met the Elf in question, Teren’s Guardian is quick to second the plan. “Just be careful. She tends to get tunnel vision at inopportune times.”

“Such as?”

“When you’re bleeding out on the sands of a completely different Timeway, and she gets into a jursdictional pissing contest with one of the locals.”

There’s a brief but amused pause as the nobleman adds that information to the obvious skill and determination he’s bearing witness to. “Well, mate, she’s got the brass and will to stand alone in front of a massive cache of bloody blight and the determination to face however many of those fel fucking corpses are thrown at her to stop  it from being used. - If nothing else, she’s got the heart of a Req, and we’ll sort out the rest of our differences if we all survive this damnable war.”

“Calia’s not here, Lord Kiden. This isn’t our War.” one of the other Lords of Nishan points out.

“Nishan is bloody Lordaeronean, and this land has belonged to our people for a thousand years. We are not leaving it in the hands of the festering dead! Now, fight you fool!”

A strange pause cycles through the other Lords of Nishan as Teren coterie breaks off to aid the Kal’Dorei.

Behind him, Lord Grinsren Per’poh readies a void infused staff with a broad smirk on his face. “Here I always thought he was Gilnean.”

Swinging a large warhammer up to sweep away a row of incoming Scourge fodder, Lord Reon grunts as he adds, “He keeps this shit up, we might--” he pauses to slam the weapon hard into an incoming Shambler. “--have to stop calling him--” Shifting his weight, the large man reveals surprising agility for his six and a half feet, evading a void torrent as it whizzes passed him “--the Outcast Lord--” A rifle blast on his left signals his other best mate as an Undead with a spray cannister full of Blight and protective suit races toward them; abruptly flying back to crash into a wall from the impact of the bullet. Collapsing to the ground with the Blight-filled Cannister erupting along the walls and  the Undead to melt the reanimated figure as it seeps in through the bullet hole, the moment is punctuated by the ursine figure concluding. “-- of Nishan.”

Catching sight of Teren arguing with the Elf, all three men take a few brief moments to enjoy the say. “Twenty diamonds on Nishan.” Lord Per’poh wagers.

Reon shakes his head. “He looks like my wife when she thinks I’ve been carving up those Light-Wielder demons in the basement.” Reaching into his pocket, he wagers, “I’ll put sixty-five sapphires on the Lady Elf.”

Laughing at both men, Lord Ceton’lal simply shrugs helplessly. “I am, as you well know it, ever on a woman’s side.- forty diamonds, Lord Per’poh?”

Grin’s hazel eyes shift back to the stiff-necked Elf as she tries to refuse healing again. “I agree. If I didn’t know either of them, I’d definitely go all in on the Lady’s side. But, I’ve never seen anyone bet against a Kiden and win. I’ll take both bets. Teren’ll come up with some side logic bullshit, and she’ll let him patch her up so she can wreck these sons of bitches some more.”

Sure enough, a few beats later, the Elf has been mended, and is leading the Lord of Nishan and his Req’s into the heart of battle; surrounded by the nobleman’s protective shields to fend off the Blight being hurled about like so much fuel for the fire.

“Time to go.” Per’poh quips. “Pay me when we get back home.” he calls before shifting through a series of Shadows to join the heart of the fray.

“Well, at least he is thinking positively.” Ceton’lal quips as he charges forward to join their companion.

Taking a deep breath, Lord Reon follows closely behind. “How do you know?”

“He said ‘when’!” 

[OOC: At the end of the day, Teren and this particular Elf are both deeply mission oriented with deep seeded stubborness and a palpable fluidity of morality when it comes right down to it. What ever needs to be done to achieve their objectives will be done. No ifs, ands or regrets about it. No matter how mch good they achieve in their lives, at the end of the day, they’re Sin Eaters, and they’ll destroy anything that gets in their way once they have belief that their course is necessary. 

- In a scenario where they have the same objective, they’re contentious but remarkably efficient and capable allies.

- In a scenario where they must work in opposition to one another, they’re bitter, relentless, and tireless opposition.

- In a scenario with an abundance of opportunity to act in accordance with their more or less unfettered callings? I doubt they would keep much of one another’s company. They both play their cards close to the vest, and have no common ground to stand on.]

[imagines-of-all-fandoms]

hey first of all I love your imagine ifs for vermintide a lot of good fluff needed for my soul but on for the request imagine if kerillian was bandaging your wounds and starts to warm up to you and catch feelings or confess her love in a tsundere kinda way love your stuff can't wait to see more warhammer or if you do other gaming what ifs

I will happily do more Kerillian content! I’m so glad you like it!That is noted, and will be posted later today along with the others! Thank you for the request! :D

[the-night-that-feeds-if]

Hi Vayle! It was nice to get to know more about you! ✨ You've got a lot of creative pursuits going, I felt humbled and awed at the same time! I need to up my game, clearly! 😂 Speaking of creativity and struggles, mental or physical health, it really makes me think of the stereotype "suffering for one's art". I can relate since I first got into IFs when my health was declining and they kept me afloat. Did the idea of this IF already exist in your mind or did you piece it together when you decided you wanted to write your own IF? Also, very important, as a fellow lover of RPGs and D&D: what's your go to race and class, and what other RPGs/TTRPGS are you a fan of? 👀✨

Hiya Lorelai! Nice to see an ask from you ^^

Lol, I have to do a million things all the time, before I moved I was also painting minis for DnD and Warhammer, which is super fun.

And some of the ideas already existed, mostly about the gods, and a world separated in some way. Those are some ideas I've held on to since highschool when I was making my own homebrew DnD world, the rest I came up with as I was writing.

I'm sorry to hear you also experience health issues, but I definitely relate. 💜

My go to race and class for tabletop 5th edition dnd has been gnome (love them to death) and then my fav character is a multi class Bard, Warlock, Artificer!

In baldurs gate 3 my fav character is a Seldarine Drow, Circle of spores.

Another ttrpg I haven't been able to play yet but really want to is Wanderhome.

And games I love: the elder scrolls, dragon age, mass effect, starfield, baldurs gate 3, sun haven, stardew valley, fallout 3, fallout nv, fallout 4, small land survive the wild, etc etc.

Thank you so much for this great ask!🌞🌞