![]() ![]() Somewhere in your life you have probably encountered the institution of the “Brainstorming Session.” The idea of a brainstorming session is to get several people together with a chalkboard, easel, or some other way of writing down ideas where everyone in the group can see them. This is actually a vital step in the creative process. When you start using the tables in this book you will immediately en- counter “overload,” a ridiculous mishmash of adjectives and concepts that contradict each other, sound stupid, and pile upon each other in an excess of details. Daemonettes and other forms stalk the writhing court, gifting favoured revellers with delicate caresses as likely to induce exquisite death as terminal pleasure. When the celebrants reach particular heights of degradation, the air itself shimmers with the energies of the Empyrean and their ranks are swollen still further by the Daemons of Slaanesh. ![]() Others feast upon victuals plundered from every corner of the Screaming Vortex, sampling food and drink that would overwhelm the systems of lesser mortals and spell certain death. In those few open spaces not strewn with writhing bodies, all manner of gladiators compete or practise their skills, pushing their bodies beyond all limits. Imbibers of every concoction imaginable are to be found there too, more often than not prostrate upon the floor or shrivelled and catatonic in the shadows. ![]() There are performers by the dozen, though few display their skills for the appreciation of the crowd, but rather to push themselves to death-defying extremes of movement and poise. There are mutants and aliens aplenty in the court, and often it is impossible to tell the difference. Some are strutting epicures boastful of the excesses they have committed, and intend to commit, in the name of Slaanesh, but these are in fact often the lesser of the Liberator’s servants, their boasts little more than shallow bluster. Every type of being is to be found before the throne, and every excess imaginable is committed by them. A few refuse to turn, but these are regarded with pity rather than anger, their denial of the Prince of Chaos something to be cured rather than punished. Others have come not of their own free will, but, having been dragged there protesting their innocence and purity, have learned the unfettered splendour of Slaanesh. Most have come to the court willingly, imagining themselves the equals to the excesses perpetrated before Pseudanor’s throne. THE LIBERATOR’S COURT Beneath the glittering dome of the Liberator’s throne room are to be found hundreds of ensnared souls, the majority having no inkling of their damnation. ![]()
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