Tankpot

“Consider,” the elderly ork said, holding up a shoota to the assembly, “Dakka.” The other orks murmured in agreement. He reached behind him and picked up a double-barrelled kustom shoota, holding it up for all to see. “Now consider; moar Dakka.” The crowd this time were more enthusiastic in their assent, some clapping, some calling out. “Now,” he said, fixing them with a wink and a wry smile, “da MOST Dakka!”  With a dramatic flourish, he gestured grandly to a huge pile of guns a pair of grots had just pulled a canvas cover off of. The room exploded, orks bellowing their wild endorsement. Some flexed, others mimed firing guns into the air. Fistfights broke out, orks pummelling each other in rapturous accord. Eventually, it all became too much and they all went for the pile of guns, grabbing what they could and spilling out into the streets. Roving bands of nascent philorksophers boiled through the scrap-city, shooting everything in sight and writing the teachings of Platork in bullet h

It seems a bit strange to be doing a revisiting article for Khorne. Of all the chaos gods, Khorne comes across as the most realised and fleshed out in terms of how he’s depicted in the lore and on the tabletop. “Blood for the Blood God, Skulls for the Skull Throne” is one of the most well known and widely used phrases among the community, and Age of Sigmar was launched with his faction as the primary antagonists. He has his own gang in Necromunda and was, for quite a while, the only god in 40k to get a dedicated plastic Chaos Space Marine kit for one of his units. Admittedly the Berserkers are very long in the tooth at this point and have been eclipsed by Tzeentch and Nurgle, but they were the first. If Khorne has a problem on the table, it’s that his stuff *does* come out first, and then gets superseded by more interesting models and rules when the other gods get their due. Khorne seems so obvious, that giving a bunch of guys axes and a surfeit of skulls and plonking them in the mode

The chaos gods have been a constant throughout the life of Warhammer, in all its various incarnations. We’re used to them now, how they look, who they are, what they represent. In most cases, their tabletop incarnation basically works. Khorne, all red and brass, fire and anger. Nurgle, chortling warmth amidst utter foulness. Tzeentch, a riot of shapes and colours, knowledge and madness. But Slaanesh is still not yet there. This isn’t to say the Prince of Pleasure doesn’t have a distinct aesthetic on the table, it’s just that the aesthetic has such a narrow focus when you consider what Slaanesh is supposed to represent. Slaanesh is the god of excess. Not sex, or debauchery, but excess. An excess of sensation, or vanity. At a low level of worship, one can rationalise Slaanesh as appearing as a Dionysus-like figure, when it’s party time, we pray to Slaanesh to make sure it’s a banger. And when it isn’t time to party, when we have to work, or fight, or think or if we just get sick, god dam