you known diary...sometimes is better you put everything in risk , to earn something  but at the same time , better you have knowledge of the consequences , becouse ,don't fight a battle if you don't gain anything by winning.

some commanders may disagree....or may have 'so much of an exquisite divine presence' that will always exhaust and expend more and more resources , supplys and man for time and of course an arrogance from the size of the empire itself that he is right and everyone else is wrong.

well...sweat of an detailed , hard , careful ,accurated , modest and  patience job  , conserve munitions , supplys  , save blood and most importantaly dont waste lives.

 "As you all know, there are many ways in which to inflict pain. There is the skilled torturer's knife, the slaver's whip, the sword of the mercenary. The marks they leave on their victims can be satisfying."

The old zealot walked among his students slowly, not bothering to look any in the eye. His voice was deep and ragged, possibly from a lifetime spent smoking, yet he managed to fill the entire chamber with his lecture. He could sense that most of his students were listening to him aptly, but there were a few who were busy doing other things. In his youth this would have angered him, but he knew better now. He now knew those who ignored his words were destined for a short period of existence in which to fully appreciate their Lord's gifts.

She moved about her tent softly, unassuming as always, even with her quiet limp.  A letter had come from her mother, and she had put it upon the ornate desk, a piece of furniture that she had never once used.  But the appearance that Thiralis would soon read the letter was complete, and that was all that mattered.

The tent flap swayed and a feminine yet strident voice called out from beyond.  “I am entering.”

A Dream and a Pink Choppa

Zarkhad woke with a sweat. He looked around his hut with his red eyes, making sure nothing was amiss amidst the piles of squig bones, snotling guts, boar carcasses, choppas, more choppas, big choppas, stabby choppas, magic choppas, and tricksy choppas. The tricksy choppa in the corner had cut Zarkhad only a few days ago when he was sharpening it on the skulls of several elves. Of course, Zarkhad had given it a good whack for that, which cut him more, although it assuaged his anger.

Intizara read the note one last time after having landed in the Inevitable City.  This did not bode well and she knew she could not hide the truth.  Not in the Lyceum.  She had no reason to hide it either.  Yes, it could cost her much, but it also pushed her far more than anything else would to prove herself.

Intizara,

the night that has fallen before the day of the amphibian assault on the early morning to the city of Fortenhaf , it was as any other encampment of armys , an clinical silence , followed by soldiers waiting already the worse or any kind of unexpected  thing to happen , like an ambush of chaos warbands , an warp rift openning unleashing chaos daemons or worse.

 Sieglinde awoke from her slumber suddenly as she felt a clawed hand grab her by the back of the head and lift her out of her bed. She had a brief moment to notice the smell of brimstone before she was slammed face first into the stone wall. Sieglinde screamed in pain as she felt her nose and a cheek explode in a burst of fiery pain.  Before she had a chance to recover, the clawed hand reached down, grabbed her by her dreadlocks, and threw her across the room. She landed on the stone floor hard and slid into the base of the marble bathtub that had just been recently added. She felt her left foot connect violently with it, and another flash of agony cascaded through her body.

Deeeexterrrrr....;D!

Now I have to give Zet a chibi Zet ahaha.

I have now made changes to the alliance forums so that the RP is more accessible and organized. Please register there, all gazetters are welcome.