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<blockquote data-quote="loki44" data-source="post: 2301722" data-attributes="member: 16276"><p>He doesn't remember who he is (whether this is a temporary state or not is currently unknown). He knows he's naked, and caked in mud, blood, snot and/or other formerly viscous substances that have since dried and are now flaking. He's got a splitting headache and his eyes are bloody razor slits. Oh, good news, the only blood he actually notices is beneath his grimy fingernails. Presumably not his own. His lungs scorched. He can’t remember how much or what he had smoked. At least he's still breathing…..but every putrid gust that escapes his cracked and swollen lips only compound his soul-wracked nausea. The vileness wells up from his very marrow – creeping through the center of his bones to his joints and infecting his gristle. His veins injecting his vitals with some thin, evil fluid that used to be blood. His viscera roiled with bile that forces itself out of his rotting carcass through every orifice. Mephitic gas seeps from his anus that would shame a Pit Fiend. Some rank oily substance oozes from his pores giving his grimy, naked body a greasy sheen. His nose is running and snot mixed with blood encrusts his upper lip. His gullet is steadily filling with bitter excrement that's unfit even for the most heinous bowels. With mighty resolve he sucks up one mighty gasp of his own noxious vaporous stench.</p><p></p><p>Free at last! Free at last!</p><p></p><p>He assumes the position and violently prays to the viscous, bilious Gods of the Depths. His retched pleas are promptly answered by Gall the Upsetter, but the sacrifice is dry and meager. Gall the Upsetter turns his back and slowly sets in motion the tinny banging of the gin drums. Gall returns to the Depths leaving only the beating of the drums and an acrid aftertaste in his soul.</p><p></p><p></p><p>OK, I'm a Warhammer fan and I'm itching to get my hands on the new books!</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="loki44, post: 2301722, member: 16276"] He doesn't remember who he is (whether this is a temporary state or not is currently unknown). He knows he's naked, and caked in mud, blood, snot and/or other formerly viscous substances that have since dried and are now flaking. He's got a splitting headache and his eyes are bloody razor slits. Oh, good news, the only blood he actually notices is beneath his grimy fingernails. Presumably not his own. His lungs scorched. He can’t remember how much or what he had smoked. At least he's still breathing…..but every putrid gust that escapes his cracked and swollen lips only compound his soul-wracked nausea. The vileness wells up from his very marrow – creeping through the center of his bones to his joints and infecting his gristle. His veins injecting his vitals with some thin, evil fluid that used to be blood. His viscera roiled with bile that forces itself out of his rotting carcass through every orifice. Mephitic gas seeps from his anus that would shame a Pit Fiend. Some rank oily substance oozes from his pores giving his grimy, naked body a greasy sheen. His nose is running and snot mixed with blood encrusts his upper lip. His gullet is steadily filling with bitter excrement that's unfit even for the most heinous bowels. With mighty resolve he sucks up one mighty gasp of his own noxious vaporous stench. Free at last! Free at last! He assumes the position and violently prays to the viscous, bilious Gods of the Depths. His retched pleas are promptly answered by Gall the Upsetter, but the sacrifice is dry and meager. Gall the Upsetter turns his back and slowly sets in motion the tinny banging of the gin drums. Gall returns to the Depths leaving only the beating of the drums and an acrid aftertaste in his soul. OK, I'm a Warhammer fan and I'm itching to get my hands on the new books! [/QUOTE]
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