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I started to write this yesterday. It is about a chaos warrior who is part of a large Tzeenthian force when everything goes wrong. I want feedback on the opening paragraph.
The cold winds of magic were blowing, whistling through the spires of the city. The taint of Slaanesh on every breath an ecstacy of pleasure ripling through the air. Confirmation of the cults corruption from the God of Pleasure. Soon however the taint would lift and mine and my bretherens blades thirst for war would be quenched. We would annihlate the cult, as the Master of Change wanted. He had plans for the Dark Elves and nothing would dare attempt to stop him, for he is omnipotent, he is Tzeentch.
Last edited by Mortise; February 6th, 2007 at 17:04.