A lone man wandered into a tavern that read Heaven's Gateway and grinned. It had been many years since he'd had a good drink and a rest. Wandering through a desert with nothing to eat or drink, now that was a fate worse than death. But he had weathered the journey here, so why not make the best of it while he had coin in his pocket? The man sat down at the bar counter and ordered a drink. In the flash of his eyes, a fresh beer topped with rich, almond-colored foam. He didn't enjoy drinking alone, but it didn't matter right now.
The man grinned and set down his coin to pay, but no one picked it up. He shrugged, leaving it there for whoever owned the place to come by and retrieve his pay. The man drank up and tasted the beer, simply fit for a god! He drank up and finished half of his beer, setting the stein back down as he let out a long, pleased sigh in contentment. That was the best beer he'd ever tasted. But before he could relish the taste any further, the door he'd come through slammed open. The man whipped his head around, watching as three broad figures entered the room!
He watched the figures draw up to the bar and recognized them as dwarves. They all took their seats down from him. The man examined them closely. The one sitting in the chair next to his wore nothing but a pair of trousers, heavy steel-toed boots and a huge orange crest of hair. He carried no weapons, and simply stared at the beer that had appeared in front of him, baleful gaze in his eyes as he drank up in one gulp and slammed his stein down on the countertop, only to have it refilled before his very eyes.
The second of the dwarves was dressed out fully in chainmail and plate armor, long iron-grey beard stretching down to his ankles. He sat there in his seat, wiping his brow of sweat as he drank his stein in one gulp, letting a pleased sigh escape his lips as he set his empty stein back down on the countertop, sitting back gently and putting his hands in his lap. He looked like an old dwarf sage, intelligent, but still just as deadly as any other of his kin. He held no weapons though. It was nice to see another face in this desert place, save for this tavern.
The third dwarf wasn't a male, but a woman of her race, shoulders not as broad, but not slim either. She had the stocky look of a dwarf, although she had no beard and long, flowing black hair that hung down to the small of her back. She held a massive tome in her hands, runes emanating a small orange glow from its cover, which had a key lock on it. The female dwarf drank her stein and set it back down gently, unlocking the massive tome and setting it upon the countertop, running through the many pages quickly. The man shrugged. Company was always good when drinking, no matter if they talked or not, just their presence was enough to make the mood better.
'Blood…blood is all I desire!' a voice roared as the tavern door appeared to be ripped from its place on the doorframe. Four figures entered the tavern and stepped in, an odd sense of death emanating from them. The man and the dwarves looked at these four newcomers. One of them, the one who had screamed for blood, was completely clad in thick, bright red armor with skulls and spikes and screaming faces all over it. His huge horned helmet had a glowing ball of red, boiling blood between the two curved horns and the man's eyes glowed red as well from behind his thick helmet.
The second of the four newcomers wore a helmet of blue and swirling gold, shaped oddly like a raven's head. His big blue burning eyes glared from behind the shadow of his helmet. He wielded no weapon, simply wearing ornate gold and blue armor, covered in skulls and raven depictions much like the red-clad warrior had skulls and screaming faces. The man however, was completely silent, staring blankly at the bar counter, four new steins of drink now flashing to its surface. The dwarves returned to their business.
The third newcomer was very odd, almost as if he was rotting apart at the seams. His skin was a sickly green color and his armor looked like it had growths all over it, craters of mutating and rotting metal all over his body. His helmet was misshapen, spikes and tentacles growing out at all angles. This man looked like he was plagued by a thousand diseases, but there was no aura of death about him, simply the look of disease. He looked almost blankly from behind his helmet, cold green eyes focused on a vacant seat, a third one below the left eye staring at the man sitting at the bar counter already.
The last newcomer was strange indeed, looking neither male nor female. This one had the body of a man and a woman, both genders in one body. The neuter newcomer wore a mask over its face and robes as clothes, very revealing though. It was clad in deep purple and indigo, staring oddly at the man seated at the bar. A stein shifted across the table and next to the man as the newcomers entered the tavern, walking over to their respective seats. The man shivered as the genderless person sat down next to him, soft smile behind a deep purple mask. The man cleared his throat, adjusting the gemmed crown on his head and the long kingly cloak worn around his shoulders. Everyone stared at him, leaning over the countertop to look at him.
'Since we've all managed to find our ways here, by some odd twist of fate, I think that we should all introduce ourselves,' the man suggested. Everyone nodded. 'I am Sigmar, ruler of the Empire,' the man announced proudly, fist over his heart. The genderless newcomer cleared its throat.
'I am Slaanesh, god and goddess of all pleasure.'
'I am Grimnir, slayer of beasts and defender of the Karaks,' the dwarf with a huge crest announced with fervor.
'I am Grungni of craftsmen and engineers,' the dwarf in armor said, downing another stein which magically refilled in his armored grip.
'I am Valaya of wisdom and home,' the female dwarf said, returning to her massive tome.
'I am Khorne, god of blood and death!' the newcomer in red armor announced with ferocity, downing a stein of…blood.
'I am Nurgle, god of pestilence,' the mutated green newcomer said, voice thick with bile and disease. The last one downed a stein of god knows what and cleared his throat, a raven cawing in the distance.
'Tzeentch, raven-god of mutation,' he said in a neutral voice. Everyone nodded and returned to drinking. Sigmar grinned. Now this was a pantheon of gods that he could stand to be in the company of. They were a worthy pantheon of ancient gods to be part of! Suddenly, a number of figures entered the tavern, silhouettes against the sunlight pouring through. The lead one wore a jaguar pelt over his body, mighty white fangs protruding from his mouth, lips turned into a wide grin to reveal more sharp teeth.
'We are the Old Ones. I am Huanchi, jaguar god of the hunt,' the newcomer announced proudly. All of the current patrons drank up to the arrival of their new companions. Damn, this is going to be a busy place if things keep up like this, thought Sigmar with a grin. He wasn't drinking alone for a long time to come, and that was the only enjoyable thought he'd had in many years. Desert or no desert, he wasn't drinking alone anymore.
A/N: Well, that's how I pictured all of the Warhammer gods meeting up. By the way, Tzeentch was drinking warpstone slush and Nurgle drank the stuff of diseases when you cut open a plaguebearer's stomach. Khorne, as described before. Slaanesh drank an aphrodisiac. Everyone else drank strong ale to their liking, Grimnir's like hot lava of course. Please review, and I do hope you enjoyed it.