Mobile versionTheme on the Warhammer Universe minus 40K.
Stories, pictures, all kinds of nonsense.
WARNING: There may be trash, insanity and sodomy. Profanity, humiliation of the dignity of people and other races. And also rudeness, flooding and offers to meet behind the garages after school.
If the above warnings suit you, then go ahead. Knock quietly, ask for little and leave quickly.
WARNING 2: Comrade Major may be watching
[img]https://twemoji.maxcdn .com/2/svg/1f46e-200d-2642-fe0f.svg[/img]
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So let's start:
STORY NUMBER SOMETHING. Perhaps the first.
On a warm summer day on the shore of Rio-Baldwin, on the white sand of the beach, the noble elf Logovaz and the respected gnome Givi Zurabovich were relaxing.
They spread a silk blanket. They put all kinds of food on it. Long-aging barley and corn wines. A barrel of pyva from the lands of the wild Teutons. Dogwood and karakum compotes.
Among the treats were: printed gingerbread from brother Nikolaus’s bakery (not advertising), Ecuadorian bananas, delicious pork fat stored in herbs. Pickled garlic and wild garlic. Fresh and salted cucumbers. Milk in a large jug (not for everyone). But they didn’t take the sausage and loaves, because they started making crap ones.
A little further away, various burgers were fried on a brazier made by gnomes. A shish kebab was waiting in a mithril bucket for an hour.
The weather was wonderful. The sun gently warmed the earth. A light breeze was blowing. At a distance, in a small forest, waxwings waxed, squirrels crawled out, crawled, crawled. The Kudyablys sang their songs. The howler monkeys roared, inviting them to carnal pleasures.
Our heroes drank the first glass and ate pig fat. Right there on the second one because everyone knows there shouldn’t be a break. We sat and talked for our lives. We ate some printed gingerbread from Brother Nikolaus's bakery (not an advertisement). We drank a third glass and lit a pipe. They sat contentedly, clicking their teeth. And suddenly they heard noise and thunder. Yes, the screams and squeals are loud.
. Because of the island, be on your guard. Out into the expanse of the river wave, from a swoop, from a turn, a painted steam boat flew out. Shvidko was sailing. No less than 25 knots. Foam trails spread across the water surface. Splashes of water flew in all directions. At the helm was a young orc, almost naked. Only a bandage hid his loins. A shameful oud was peeking out from under the bandage. Shrunk from the cold water. A thin line trailed behind the craft. At the other end of the line there was a young girl from the human race.
She was riding on water skis along the river surface as if on dry land. And she did all sorts of different dance steps. Her long white hair fluttered in the headwind. She was dressed like a Maliba savior. A bright red swimsuit invitingly emphasized her high bust and long, slender legs like an elven arrow.
And suddenly... It always happens suddenly... The line broke and the girl went under the water. And the shuttle flew off into the distance.
Our brave heroes rushed to Rio and, after a long search, finally pulled the girl ashore. They began to revive her. And blow into your mouth and crush your bust. But the girl did not perk up. The heroes kneaded and blew for the allotted time. Tired. We sat down to smoke a pipe.
—You know Givi, we’re doing something wrong. We can't revive her. And her clothes are in the way.—
— Just like Logovaz, and you noticed that she was on water skis... And this one was on skates for some reason...—
Our heroes looked at the body of the unfortunate woman and in sadness we went to drink a glass of corn wine.
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