Chapter 23H
The chaos fleet was now ready to depart on a mission of conquest, the ships fully supplied, and the newly acquired Tzeentch worshipping slave crew members and non-slave soldiers fully trained to full capability in a surprisingly short time, (thanks to centuries of TigerLily grooming them for these roles).
But still they hesitated in leaving the safe orbit of Stōørølø with its abundance of food and fuel and energy and resources. They had far too recently been adrift for years with no supplies and starving to death, it was only natural that they should feel pangs of anxiety at the thought of setting forth once more into the vast empty spaces between the daemon worlds of the seething Maelstrom warp storms.
They could stay here in this oasis of abundance forever, where the very ground spewed forth literal rivers of milk and honey at the random whims of the gods, where the flat rocky desolate plains would periodically erupt with rapidly growing jungle plant life heavy with fruit and seeds and nuts and all other types of edible plant material.
Stōørølø was infested, absolutely infested with uncountable herds and flocks of ever migrating mutant animals that walked or flew, sustained by the incredible bounties the ground randomly spewed forth. Even the most excessive meat hunting was sustainable on Stōørølø if done carefully, the pig-like mutant animals in particular had huge litters of piglets every few months, their numbers ever exploding with the literal rivers of food to sustain them. The air was filled with bird-like things that were born not as eggs but born live with all their feathers, able to fly on their own within two minutes of being born. Ground and sky the planet had abundant meat to feed the fleet.
Almost as vital as the overwhelming abundance of food on Stōørølø was the even greater abundance of rich high octane hydrocarbons, entire rivers and lakes of steaming crude oil and rich thick boiling tar that were periodically vomited forth from the turbulent ever mutating surface of the planet. These hydrocarbons were not originating from some finite underground source that would run dry, they were created from scratch by the power and will of the hungry mad gods, eternal and potentially infinite so long as Stōørølø still had more rocks for the gods to transmute like this.
These hydrocarbons had to be harvested fast, for they would become rocks once more in a matter of hours if left undisturbed, just as every blessing wasted was taken back if not claimed fast enough. But this was no problem for a daemon world most strongly controlled by the chaos god Tzeentch, under the steward rule of daemon princess of Tzeentch TigerLily Sevenson herself. Not a problem when the planet crawled with medieval wizards and sorcerers and seers and other pedlars of the supernatural, each of them really a psyker who worshipped Tzeentch, forming into superstitious "ring cults" and "orbit cults" who were obsessed with eternally adding to the rings of resources around the planet.
Around the rivers of milk and honey, crude oil and tar, freshwater, seawater, rivers of lava and even molten metal, rivers of anything that might be of use, around these gathered thousands upon thousands of dangerously unsanctioned psykers dedicated to Tzeentch and the ring cults and orbit cults. Together in such uncountable multitudes the cumulative raw psychic mass of so many ordinary middling psykers could add up, it could add up like some people might scarcely believe, and working together as psychic choirs these psychic cultists could fling these whole rivers into orbit with incredible psychic force.
All over the planet, gentle Tzeentch worshipping mutant women very much like Fhimra Pyrestrength picked fruits and seeds and nuts and other plant foods from the sporadically appearing mutant vegetation, filling huge baskets balanced on their heads with food to keep it off the ground where it could be swallowed back up. The gifts from the gods must stay off the ground to stop them turning back into rocks, a basket on the head would prevent this transmutation, as would a wagon or a sled with wheels and skis enchanted with runes by the sorcerers to keep the wood and metal of the wagons and sleds themselves from transmuting back into stone.
The harvest gathered by the women was partially eaten by their tribes of course, but there was always more than they could eat, and this surplus was given in offering to the magic pedlars of the ring and orbit cults, so that they could shoot these into orbit with the other bounties. Sometimes strange metal flying things would fly down from space on metal wings that shot loud jets of fire behind them, and strange men and women would emerge from these metal things to take the fruits and other things, saying they wanted it "fresh" not "dried out from space". These strangers would give things to the tribes for this "fresh" fruit that hadn't touched the hard desiccating vacuum of space, giving metal knives and other tools, metal pots and pans, all sorts of things that were cheap for the strangers but hugely valuable to the tribes.
The flying metal things dared not stay, their metal surfaces were studded with glowing sorcerous daemon runes to protect against being turned to stone, but the landscape was still tempestuous, erupting with dangerous changes without any warning at all. The flying metal things did not stay a moment longer than necessary, but as well as trading for fresh fruit and other fresh foods, they also traded for slaves, offering priceless deadly weapons for each young healthy slave of working quality.
Most prized of these strange weapons were the lasguns, strange projectile weapons that shot beams of deadly hot light. They needed no ammunition, merely to expose tough "solar panels" on the side of the weapon to the ever changing light of the local sun during the day to "recharge" the ammunition. For a relatively worthless young woman a tribe could get one of these weapons in exchange, and with these weapons they could slaughter their enemy tribes in the name of Tzeentch.
The planet Stōørølø had always been at war with itself, with the mutant and abhuman and human adjacent and somewhat human tribes forever at war to win the favour of the gods. In the past they were descended from the crew of some chaos ship that had crash landed, and all of their technology had turned to stone and then been ripped apart with ever more change and transmutation.
Time moved so fast here, a hundred years passed here for every one year in real space, and the wretched shipwrecked crew had been a hundred years old before they were even reported missing. They had simply survived as best as they could and bred with each other, becoming primitive tribes as the centuries shot past and old knowledge was lost with the deaths of the original crew. Hundreds of thousands of years had passed for these people, they had multiplied explosively, they had rediscovered what primitive Iron Age tech they could, they had become what they now were.
Different gods had held more or less sway over Stōørølø at different times, each god having their own tribes who worshipped them, but always again and again Tzeentch had come to be the ultimate possessor of this tempestuous ever changing planet, his tribes always having the advantage in an environment of pure change and possibility.
The tribes of the other gods were dying out now, as the Tzeentch tribes with their perfectly culturally groomed slave girls and slave men exchanged members of their tribes for deadly lasguns. Khorne knights in iron armour on mutant horses were simply no match for modern firearms, Nurgle reavers were burned to ashes with laser beams, Slaanesh charioteers had their steeds shot and were offered the choice between slavery or death, as the visitors in orbit took offence if those of Slaanesh were simply exterminated without offer of mercy.
The Slaanesh worshipping tribes that were enslaved alive were then immediately sold as slaves to the visitors in the metal flying ships, carried off to be tickle slaves or torture slaves or the like in bondage to worshippers of their very same god. These Slaanesh worshipping tribespeople had not been groomed for centuries to speak the same language and adopt the same culture as the fleet, they hadn't had the theoretical basis of technology drummed into their heads from birth, and the culture shock for them was enormous.
The Slaanesh worshippers in the fleet could certainly satisfy their sadistic appetites on enslaved Tzeentch worshippers, but why?, It was a waste when they had the language and knowledge and culture to do something much more useful. Much better to make tickle slaves and torture slaves and rape slaves of the culture shocked Slaaneshi tribespeople who spoke not a word of the language and barely had any use, and the sadists in orbit fell upon their own kind like this with rapacious glee.
Slaanesh did not care if his worshippers were free or slaves, so long as they fed Slaanesh with their excess sensation followed by their souls when they died. Whether they survived or not up there in slavery, they were still gone forever from the planet this way, leaving the tribes of Tzeentch to dominate uncontested, to the increased power of their god.
The fleet up in orbit above this could see what was happening, they could feel the growing power of Tzeentch as all other worshippers were removed or exterminated, but they did not DARE to intervene.
This planet and its resources were ultimately a gift given to the fleet by Tzeentch in their hour of greatest desperation. TigerLily might have been mortal once, but now as a daemon princess she was literally part of the chaos god Tzeentch, serving his interests and acting on his behalf.
To take this gift, but then to *spurn* Tzeentch by intervening in his complete conquest of Stōørølø… This was not a wise thing to even attempt, and the fleet was not so foolish.
Even Egg herself stood by, still not recovered to full strength, watching in angry despair as the last traces of Nurgle worship were exterminated on the planet down below. The fear of Tzeentch was too great.
The whole ordeal of being adrift and starving for years had in many ways been Tzeentch's act of revenge against Egg, to humble her arrogance and remind her that even an Alpha Plus Psyker was less powerful than a literal GOD.
The long years had humiliated Egg to her core, trapped by warp storms that even her own powers were impotent against to overcome. It had been a hard stern lesson in hubris, not to kill her but to firmly remind Egg of her place, a well deserved spanking to a child that, while loved, *sorely* needs some divine discipline.
Egg could serve the chaos gods, but she must always remember that she was a SERVANT, not a master.
Now Egg looked humbled to her very core, her pride broken over the rack of long discipline by Tzeentch, in punishment for every time she had ever stepped in his way.
The other Sevensons were equally scared, even the Matriarch MA7 was filled with uneasy anxiety. The whole saga of starvation had deeply terrified them and made them feel vulnerable and small, like insignificant insects at the mercy of angry gods.
They could depart right now for conquest, but they were uneasy and anxious, uncertain whether the act of leaving right now was… Allowed, by Tzeentch. Would he be offended if they left so soon?, Was it safe?, The anxiety gnawed deep.
The extermination on the planet completed as the last warrior of Khorne was shot down with lasguns. Every still surviving tribe of Chaos Undivided worshippers had wisely dropped the whole "undivided" part and had decided to worship Tzeentch alone. All other tribes were the original worshippers of Tzeentch who TigerLily had groomed for centuries.
As the last follower of a rival god died down on the surface, the entire sky of the planet erupted with blue psychic fireworks of celebration, and the surface became even more ever changing than it ever had been before, becoming entirely a daemon world of Tzeentch.
Huge mountains floated up off the surface, ripping away from the surrounding rock to form floating islands. Daemons of Tzeentch materialised all over the planet, turning into floating disks of Tzeentch to carry tribespeople to these floating islands or around the planet as they wished, endless possibilities open to all.
The bounties spewed forth from the ground became more great, more often and more numerous, more and more change and possibilities opening to the faithful masses, their minds broiling with hope so extreme that it was nearly madness, imagining all the things they could now do with fanatical hope.
The warp around the planet crackled with energy and power as this all fed Tzeentch enormously, and in every mind could be heard the mad insane laughter of this terrible hungry god, a being so great and terrible that mortal minds would go mad before half comprehending his scale and stature.
The worshippers of Slaanesh and other gods besides Tzeentch all cowered at the sound of this mad laughter, like bugs on a hard floor below a hovering boot, praying for an act of mercy they couldn't control.
The fear was raw and hard, like a bitter taste in their mouths, as the crazy laughter of the Lovecraftian warp god boomed in all their minds, so deathly afraid of his wrath.
"Have hope oh ye cowards, have hope in abundance!", The terrible mocking voice of Tzeentch laughed boomingly in a shout of insane energy and power, and terrible self aware intelligence.
"I have not brought you here to destroy you but to send you forth on new possibilities!, Scream with hope if you must scream but not with fear, for now is the season of optimism and opportunity!", Tzeentch laughed madly in a way that was saturated with encouragement to feel hope.
The fear lifted slightly and the hope stirred in every heart.
"That's better, but hardly worthy of just how *great* the blessings before you are!, Success awaits you in your every endeavour, blessings and bounty, boons and good fortune, you have the opportunity, double and triple and tenfold opportunity to achieve your dreams I bestow upon you. Hope for the future, for it is a BRIGHT future indeed!", Tzeentch proclaimed with booming enthusiasm, lifting the hopes of every listener like a buoyant bit of styrofoam released upwards from the crushing unfathomable depths of the bottom of the ocean, dragging the hopes and spirits up with explosive optimism.
Tzeentch continued to promise the most wonderful things, so that even the most wretched and depressed tickle slave in the grimmest sadistic Slaaneshi dungeon smiled with wonderful optimism that the future would be kinder and more wonderful than they could possibly imagine.
Hope filled everyone and all, even the Nurgle worshippers were unhappily forced to feel an optimism that disgusted them. It was impossible not to feel hope when the god of hope himself promised great things.
The future would be the best possible future, they would succeed, they had endless wonderful possibilities to make their own fate, to achieve all of their desires. How silly of any to doubt if they could safely go forth to conquer new daemon worlds, they would be victorious with bounties galore every step of the way!
Stōørølø was secured, supply ships from the planet would follow them, so that they would have a glut of fresh supplies the entire trip, they could sail forth and conquer a string of daemon worlds for their new small empire, and only victory stood ahead of them!
With feverish enthusiasm the chaos fleet powered up their warp drives, optimistic to the point of near madness in this presence of Tzeentch.
With howls of hope they entered the warp and flew away to wage distant war, and the hope lingered for a while, sapping only gradually as they left the overwhelming presence of Tzeentch.
Tzeentch chuckled madly as he watched them go, so inscrutable that scholars could debate till the end of time whether it was a mad chuckle of warmth or malice…
***…
Fhimra Pyrestrength the Tzeentch worshipping tickle slave and lesbian felt incredibly optimistic about the future, as she sat laughing hysterically with her feet in the stocks at a fetish convention Lash was volunteering her time at.
"Come tickle the slave girl, anyone who wants to, it's free, she's right here, come give it a try.", Lash called loudly to the public from her little stall area that contained Fhimra!
Fhimra was wearing a bright pink latex fetish wear leotard outfit that covered her body from her crotch to her shoulders, the latex so skintight that it showed the outline of her nipples through her lack of a bra underneath. Apart from the leotard she wore only a pair of fluffy pink padded handcuffs that locked her wrists behind her back.
Lash was running a stall at a public fetish lifestyle convention, running it for free as a volunteer to teach awareness of her lifestyle to the community, just as a personal passion. The stall had some basics like a folding table and some chairs, but it also had two pairs of stocks, one pair currently empty, and a bunch of feathers and tiny brushes and stuff laid out on the floor in front of the stocks for random members of the public to use on Fhimra's poor feet.
Fhimra caught her breath as the person currently tickling her feet stopped, and sat in the stocks buzzing with hope and scheming about the future, completely energised after Tzeentch spoke to the fleet earlier.
The fleet was at warp but it would take at least a few days to arrive at a war zone. For now it was perfectly safe to run these sorts of civilian community events and the ship was currently bustling with all sorts of different conventions and fairs and the like. The community was still buzzing with hope and was out in force at these civilian events, optimistically enjoying life and taking advantage of every new opportunity to be entertained or learn something new.
Fhimra and Octavia had had little choice in accompanying Lash to this stall at this fetish convention, both being slaves who got no real say in most things they did. Octavia had earlier been sitting handcuffed in the stocks next to Fhimra, also getting tickled by members of the public, but she had wanted to explore the convention stalls and buy some food, so Lash had let her out of bondage to look around and given her some money to buy some food.
Fhimra had wanted to go too but Lash needed at least one tickle slave for her stall and Octavia had been more excited in exploring, while Fhimra was mostly just trying to escape being tickled. Naturally Octavia had been the one who was let out.
Fhimra had asked Octavia to get her some food, specifically asking for some fried yohan chips and a grox burger with extra cheese. Lash was kind enough to agree to release Fhimra's wrists from the handcuffs when the food arrived so she could eat, (but sadistically had refused to let her out of the stocks).
The convention was crowded with all sorts of people, not just Slaanesh worshippers but even Tzeentch and undivided and even some stinky Nurgle worshippers. The din of conversation was loud and the crowds bustled.
Fhimra noticed a group of three men in camouflaged military uniforms and faces splotched with different skin colours exactly the same as Fhimra's face, worshippers of Tzeentch recruited from the men of the tribes of Stōørølø to serve in the fleet's military as "heretic" fighters. As soldiers they were free rather than slaves, and seemed to be thriving and enjoying their freedom exploring this convention for some reason.
One of the men noticed Fhimra and gestured to his comrades. All of them grinned and Fhimra shifted slightly as they eagerly approached her.
"What have we here?", One of the men said delightedly in a Stōørølø tribal accent.
"Fhimra here is a tickle slave, feel free to tickle her feet as much as you like.", Lash explained enthusiastically.
Fhimra blushed slightly with embarrassment as the men cocked their heads at this.
"You are fine with this treatment sister?", one of the men asked quietly.
"It's complicated. I'm a lesbian and my girlfriend is a Slaanesh worshipper and a tickle slave. I want to be with my girlfriend so I'm a tickle slave too now. It was my choice.", Fhimra slightly bent the truth to hide the embarrassing fact that she actually loved this stuff.
"Kinky.", the men chuckled, making Fhimra blush again.
"Don't be so shy to admit that you love it too.", Lash purred playfully.
"I like it a bit, a bit.", Fhimra admitted, blushing crimson with embarrassment in the presence of peers like this.
"Can I have a go?", one of the men asked enthusiastically.
"Please do, tickle her as much as you like, even all day if you want.", Lash warmly encouraged!
Fhimra flinched as her foot was touched, then she squealed with laughter as he was suddenly tickling her foot energetically with his fingers!
"That looks fun.", another soldier said.
Suddenly all three of them were stroking her feet at the same time, grinning playfully as she squealed with laughter and squirmed in her handcuffs!
"Don't be jerks!", Fhimra squealed, eyes clenched with laughter.
The jerks teased her and tickled her even more.
Fhimra could do precisely nothing to stop them, simply laughing hard and occasionally talking shit at them. The jerks grinned and just tickled her even more, obviously enjoying themselves.
"By Tzeentch there are so many possibilities with this electric toothbrush.", one of the jerks grinned.
"Please not between the toes!", Fhimra pleaded.
"Good idea!", the smug jerk said and then Fhimra was howling with laughter!
"Don't be so mean to me!", Fhimra protested cutely.
"How often do we get to do this to a Tzeentch girl?, Of course we will take the opportunity!", one of the men teased her playfully.
Fhimra could only laugh and talk shit, not actually stop them at all, and she was pretty much screwed until they chose to stop, laughing nonstop.
Octavia eventually arrived with the food, Fhimra still being tickled and teased by the three men, and the men did a double take at the huge breasted utterly gorgeous woman in a skin tight pink latex leotard that matched Fhimra's.
"Fhimra I got you a grox burger with extra cheese and some yohan fries like you asked. I wasn't sure what drink you wanted so I got you an orange fizzy drink.", Octavia said happily, holding the food in a plastic bag.
"Who is this!?, Is this your girlfriend?," one of the soldiers exclaimed.
"That's my girlfriend Octavia.", Fhimra agreed with a slight blush.
"I now understand why you became a tickle slave to be with her.", the man chuckled.
"Yep, she's so gorgeous that I sometimes want to cry.", Fhimra agreed.
"Aw, thank you.", Octavia said and squatted down to kiss Fhimra romantically.
"Yep, I'd be in those stocks too to tap that.", a soldier said tactlessly.
Octavia and Fhimra ignored this comment and Octavia put the bag of food between them and sat putting her ankles in the other pair of stocks, removing her footwear first. Lash closed the stocks over Octavia's ankles and locked them, and the men eagerly tickled the stunningly beautiful woman, making her squeal with laughter but showing no sign of being bothered.
Octavia took out the food even as she laughed hard, and Lash reluctantly unlocked Fhimra's handcuffs so she could eat but not her feet.
Fhimra was just looking at the food when her feet were tickled again by the jerks!
"I'm trying to eat my lunch!", Fhimra protested in cross laughter.
The men playfully agreed to stop, and Fhimra picked up her paper wrapped grox burger.
Her foot was suddenly tickled again and she almost dropped her burger!
"Be nice to me!", Fhimra squealed grumpily.
"What's in it for us?", one of the jerks teased.
"My girlfriend will suck your dicks if you stop.", Fhimra offered.
Octavia paused at this and then happily nodded her agreement like an enthusiastic slut.
"Only if we get to eat in peace!", Fhimra added sternly.
The men paused at this offer as Fhimra knew they would, looking at probably the most beautiful woman they had ever seen offering to suck their dicks. The men then enthusiastically agreed and even went so far as to put the women's shoes back on their feet for added protection.
Fhimra sighed in relief and hungrily got stuck into her grox burger, tasting the delicious unhealthy fatty fast food with moans of blissful pleasure. It was so rare to be allowed to eat yummy crap like this on their strictly regulated healthy tickle slave diets of mostly fruit and vegetables and other "sensible" foods.
"This is SO good!", Fhimra moaned in pleasure at her burger.
Octavia happily nodded, stuffing her face with a burger of her own.
Fhimra moaned with pleasure as she ate the fried yohan chips in between bites of her burger, tasting the delicious deep fried oil and the wonderfully fattening fried starch in the yohan, an alien vegetable similar to a Terran potato.
Fhimra sipped the chilled orange fizzy drink from a plastic bottle, and moaned even more at the wonderful refined sugar and other unhealthy goodness. This was orgasmic!
"Is it really THAT good?", one of the splotchy faced Tzeentch trio asked with a chuckle.
"We almost never eat yummy stuff like this as tickle slaves, our diets are all this really healthy stuff all the time to keep our bodies at peak tickling sensitivity. This is such an amazing treat for us.", Fhimra explained with a mouthful of yummy food.
"This whole thing sounds very Slaaneshi.", one of the men noted.
"I still devoutly worship Tzeentch, I am simply following my hopes into my current position. I want my girlfriend, among other end goals. Don't judge me.", Fhimra said defensively.
"No need to be embarrassed, proudly tickle slaves for life.", Octavia reminded Fhimra encouragingly.
"Tickle slaves for life.", Fhimra agreed somewhat less enthusiastically.
"She's hot, we get it.", one of the men said tactlessly.
Fhimra ignored this comment and kept eating the wonderful food.
"Mistress Lash Ma'am I need to pee.", Fhimra requested when she finished all of her food and drink.
Lash was gracious enough to unlock Fhimra's ankle stocks and she rushed off to the nearest public toilet at the convention. Fhimra was just starting to pee when she heard a male voice moaning below her, and she looked down in horror to see a male face in the toilet bowl!
This was some gross fetish toilet play toilet!
Fhimra fled in horror and found a NORMAL toilet to keep peeing, feeling so disturbed and disgusted!
Fhimra returned to the stall to find Octavia sucking the three men's dicks as promised, and Fhimra very reluctantly bared her feet and put them back in the stocks, clenching her excessive number of mutant toes nervously.
Fhimra's wrists were handcuffed behind her back, and she fidgeted nervously in the stocks, reminding herself that she was feeling really hopeful today.
One of the Tzeentch soldiers then resumed tickling Fhimra's feet and she giggled and laughed in torment, bending her body forward but unable to protect her feet!
Octavia finished sucking all their dicks, and then she was laughing too, her wrists also cuffed behind her back.
The three Tzeentch soldiers had a wonderful time being playful mischievous jerks, making Fhimra laugh and get cross. They were naturally attracted to their own women like Fhimra and were showing very sexually interested body language towards her.
Fhimra tried to remind them that she was a lesbian and already had a girlfriend, but that didn't stop all three men from hitting on her as they tickled her, making her cross.
"A nice kinky submissive Tzeentch girl like you is proper keeper material.", One of the men said way too hopefully to Fhimra.
"I'm a strict lesbian.", Fhimra reminded him.
"Surely that strictness has some wiggle room?"
"None at all I'm afraid.", Fhimra said, not liking this attention.
"But you are so fun. You would make a really delightful girlfriend."
"I already am a delightful girlfriend, I'm Octavia's delightful girlfriend.", Fhimra retorted cheekily.
The guy just wouldn't take no for an answer and eventually tried to kiss Fhimra!
"Fhimra already said no, don't take liberties!", Lash angrily came to the rescue.
The man got defensive, leading to an argument, and eventually all three left after Lash threatened to call for security forces.
"What a bunch of jerks!", Fhimra fumed from the stocks when they were gone.
"I'm afraid that fetish conventions attract creeps sometimes. It's just something to be on guard for.", Lash said apologetically.
"Can we go home soon, this place gives me the creeps.", Fhimra asked hopefully.
"You and Octavia are the exhibits of my stall, I need at least one of you.", Lash said sternly but sympathetically.
"I don't like guys tickling me, it makes me really uncomfortable.", Fhimra said honestly.
"I will let you out for a while, I need to pee anyway. You sit here and mind the stall while I'm gone.", Lash said and released Fhimra.
Fhimra gratefully put on her shoes and sat at the folding table as Lash went off to pee.
Octavia was being tickled by random strangers now, giggling and laughing in the stocks, and Fhimra sighed unhappily.
This Slaaneshi lifestyle was really creepy sometimes, this shit just wasn't normal when you really looked at it. Fhimra loved Octavia to bits and had fun when it was just women in a private dungeon, but in public with men around it felt really dirty and creepy and uncomfortable, embarrassing even.
Fhimra would have died of embarrassment if her parents had seen her in those stocks like that, they accepted that she was a dyke but this tickle slave stuff was just too far, it was really embarrassing to be seen doing this stuff.
Fhimra decided that she should probably talk to Lash about this. She was pretty reasonable and intuitive, she would help Fhimra navigate this slight dilemma.
Fhimra smiled optimistically with hope, no need to worry, this was just an opportunity to make things even better. The hope of Tzeentch was always the way.
This place was still creepy however…
***…