Skaven Deathmaster tries yoga, finally chills out

Celebration in the Under-empire today as Deatmaster Katch, notorious assassin of the Clans Eshin, marks 100 days without flipping out and killing everybody nearby. His fellow clanmates have labelled the achievement as the hard-won result of months of mediation, gentle exercise, and aromatherapy.

“Katch always mean, always want to stab-kill,” confirmed an anonymous source close to the Deathmaster. “Any second, Katch go on kill-spree, murder ally-mates. Very hard to plan sneak-heist.”

The turning point came last year when Katch came close to igniting a war between the Masterclan and his own, stopped only by the selfless sacrifice of 273 clanrats diving between him and a passing Grey Seer. At this point the situation could no longer be ignored by the shadowy masters of his clan, and he was quickly chained up and hauled away to their hidden fortress nestled between the Realms.

The relaxation regime was reportedly rigorous and thorough, utilising forbidden methods from the secret corners of both Hysh and Ulgu. Experimental yoga techniques, a sort of body-magic stolen from the Lumineth, were employed with exciting results, producing a more relaxed and flexible assassin. At the urging of the Clans Skryre warpstone facemasks were used for the first time as well, and were able to generate a more youthful appearance in the Deathmaster. Jade eggs were also imported, but their application proved difficult and was eventually abandoned.

As Eshin celebrates this exciting new development in Deatmaster training, we can exclusively report that the Masterclan have been exploring its capacity as a potential revenue stream. We encourage our readers to exercise caution when visiting their local beautician, and avoid any day spa that accepts warpstone as payment.

Generals addicted to prophecy, fortunetelling

An epidemic is sweeping the Realms, laying low warlords of every persuasion. This is no buboe-filled disease of Nurgle’s creation however, but instead a crippling addiction to the act of seeing the future.

The plague has been tracked back to the city of Excelsis, which has long been known for the export of small shards of crystallised prophecy known as glimmerings. Up until now their misuse had mainly centred around the city itself, but its recent assault by Kragnos has devastated the tightly controlled trading regime and resulted in their flooding the market in all Realms. Now generals of every faction have access to the mystical chunks, and many have taken to them with gusto. “The Slaves to Darkness are coming!” is now as common a sound on the streets of Hammerhal as the cries of water-sellers and evangelising priests. 

“It’s not an ideal situation,” confirmed Lord-Imperitant Warom, one of the top war-leaders in Azyr. “Our people are now so obsessed with seeing what’s coming up and arguing over its potential impact that they’ve lost all interest in the here and now.”

Steps are being taken to wean generals off their addiction, with sanctioned seers releasing a prophecy engineered to provide enough information to be interesting without being comprehensive. Although many generals have reacted positively, some are unimpressed and have demanded greater transparency. Sigmar is said to be hesitant, concerned about what knowledge of the upcoming invasion by ▇▇▇▇▇▇ wearing ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇ on ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ will produce in the community.

Cost of living increases prompts Pink Horror to de-split

Tough times all around in the Mortal Realms as individuals from all walks of life struggle under an increased cost of living. Every faction has their story, but the situation is best summed up by the experience of Plin’lo, a Pink Horror who was until recently happily split.

“We just couldn’t handle it,” confirmed Plin’lo, as he capered morosley. “The price of gold bangles, wicked hellfire, and wiggly knives had all increased tenfold while our wages refused to budge. We felt really undermined, you know? A daemon of change with stagnate wages? It’s almost offensive.”

We spoke to some companions who had previously known them as a pair of Blue Horrors, and they all corroborated their sad tale. “A Blue Horror is meant to be grumpy, but they were something else,” described a local Gor. “The decision wasn’t easy for them.”

We approached the office of Tzeentch, Plin’lo’s diabolical overlord, but have yet to receive any response. As we go to print however we’ve received confirmation that Plin’lo has been able to find new employment, taking advantage of the severe shortage of Bastiladon riders to the Seraphon. “I just needed to paint myself blue and wear a fake tail, and I fit right in,” Pin’lo said. “It’s nice to be on the winning team for once.”