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A weak sack of flesh destined to die for a dead god that never cared, it spends its pitiful, brief life, alone in his foxhole with nothing to keep him company, or to keep him safe, than the cheapest, most disposable of equipment. Perhaps the glow from his lasgun barrel keeps him warm at night.
Me? As a servant of the powers I enjoy the delights of all this world and the warp has to offer. Power, it courses through my veins. The gifts of the chaos gods will soon overtake me, and one day I may even ascend. What has the guardsman to look forward to but a grim life, and if he is lucky perhaps he will feel nothing as my axe sends his soul to Khorne.
He lives for a corpse god, and he shall join his god, as a corpse. I shall spare a half second to think of him and his kind. Then i shall only laugh.
Hail Chaos!
Pity the Guardsmen
Written By: A Traitor
Religion
Pity The Guardsmen
A weak sack of flesh destined to die for a dead god that never cared, it spends its pitiful, brief life, alone in his foxhole with nothing to keep him company, or to keep him safe, than the cheapest, most disposable of equipment. Perhaps the glow from his lasgun barrel keeps him warm at night.
Me? As a servant of the powers I enjoy the delights of all this world and the warp has to offer. Power, it courses through my veins. The gifts of the chaos gods will soon overtake me, and one day I may even ascend. What has the guardsman to look forward to but a grim life, and if he is lucky perhaps he will feel nothing as my axe sends his soul to Khorne.
He lives for a corpse god, and he shall join his god, as a corpse. I shall spare a half second to think of him and his kind. Then i shall only laugh.
Hail Chaos!