“Extract from Lord Catatonia’s Annals of Despair

“…“and place thyself upon the slab, and beware that a towel or some-such is under the blood gutter” I yelled at the hapless maiden who we had left to self-sacrifice. She was docile and compliant, and the Chaos Lords favour the empowerment of females in their church. Less so in their armies, it seemed to me that all our footbeasts were in fact, beast*men*, which seemed discriminatory. And odder, if male they all are, whence is all the goat’s cheese the team keep eating, if not udder? I shudder. To think.

I would rather eat ratatouille, and ordered some up as our next opponents offended our presence. Ratmen truly are scum, are they not? Looked down upon by law and chaos alike, frolicking with warpstone, beneath even contempt and beyond pity. Peskile rodents, they would dash about, as if the ground were of tin heated on a griddle from beneath (there *is* and idea, write that down clerk!) And whensoever they would score, as inevitably they would, our dispositions would be reset and standoffish the rats would cluster around the scabrous feet of their great Rat Ogre, who they had barely control of, though when they did he was surely able to cleave a few heads from a few shoulders if one were to let him. We did not. But the rats humiliated us with the score, as many had before. And nary a mangled rat corpse to feast on. We returned to camp to find our tribute had cut a vital blood-tube, and then run around and around in panic, covering our meagre belongings in blood before collapsing in a crumpled heap in the cheese pit. I regarded the mess with delightful confusion, knowing not whether this was a triumph or a disaster.”
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