Sap for the Sap God

A ridiculous account of chaotic stupidity

A word of warning, incase what you've seen above hasn't already tipped you off, this is a parody. I haven't uploaded anything in a while so I thought I'de scribble something up to make people happy. Since The Call of Chaos was so popular I guess I'll start doing more comedy, I will be writing more chapters for Corruption as soon as I get more time though. Try to enjoy.

"Blood for the Blood God! Hahahahaha!" roared Goran as he hacked through the neck of the final guardsman with his chain-axe. Immediately after the head separated from its body a geyser of arterial blood sprayed forth to cover Goran's armor, he was filled with a sense of pride. His fellow Khorne Berserkers were mutilating the corpses of the other hundred or so guardsmen to get as much enjoyment out of them as possible. A mere half an hour later the ten berserkers were drenched with blood, and each had a collection of skulls to offer to their lord.

Even after such a brutal massacre the seeds of frustration and discontent were blossoming. "We must find more enemies! What are we if not killers? We are not whole without an enemy to slay, blood to spill, or a skull to claim!" raged Zorrak. Goran, the champion leading this pack of feral hunters, was always irritated with Zorrak. He was more of a whiney pup then a hound of Khorne. He merely snarled in reply and continued to take the lead as the squad began wandering further into the forest of Deron, a formerly imperial world.

The yellow sun shined brightly in the blue sky, and the forest was becoming thicker and thicker. The silence was maddening. Every berserker wanted to cry havoc and rip their closest companion to ribbons from such inactivity. Finally someone broke the silence. "Goran! This is your fault! You thought we'd find more mortal loyalist scum out here and there's nothing but trees and silence! You are unfit to be leader! By my might, and my blood, I'll tear you open and cast you do-" Zorrak never got the chance to finish. Goran bashed and ripped him apart as thoroughly as his unnatural strength allowed him.

"Well now I've done that… he had a point though." Goran said with a hollow tone. "We'll never gain more favor from Khorne hiking through the woods."

"Well what do you suggest we do?" asked a berserker whose name escaped Goran's recollection.

"Well…" Goran began looking at the mighty, alien maple trees, "maybe we need to redefine slaughter…"

Meanwhile… In the Warp

Khorne sat upon his throne of skulls amidst a sea of sanguine blood. The near endless room was dark. The only luminescence came from within Khorne, the raging inferno of his rage rendered visible by its intensity. His bronze armor magnified this light, allowing him to see all in his throne room. The stonework was as black and dark as the wickedest mortal soul. The bronze, shaped by Khorne's own iron will, protruded at random spaces forming faces filled with a malignance far greater than any natural creature could understand.

The blood of all those slain in the name of Khorne poured forth from the ceiling of the room, drawn by Khorne's unquenchable blood thirst. The majority of the time a steady flow would come cascading through the preponderance of the area, but today the flow was little more than a trickle. Past the cries of war, the shouts of hatred, and the roar of hellfire one could almost hear the small splashes of blood droplets joining the majority.

"Hmm… uh… Skal get over here!" Khorne screamed.

"You called my lord?" said a rather large bloodletter as he left his post to approach his master. His skin wept a constant supply of oozing, crimson blood.

To say Khorne towered above Skal would be more than an understatement. He was the size of a mountain; his red, muscular build was truly similar to the densest of stone. "Skal tell me something… why exactly am I not being showered in the blood of a hundred slaughtered worlds?"

Skal quivered at the wrath in his lord's voice. Even a creature as malign and brutal as a bloodletter was fearful of Khorne's choler. He quickly pulled out an enchanted scroll, capable of giving him information on the various unaffiliated campaigns of Khorne's followers. "Well oh great lord of blood and war, it's been a slow week…"

"It's the 41st Millennium out there in real space! There's supposed to be only war! How in the warp can there be a slow week of bloodshed!" Khorne bellowed.

"Well there just aren't any major campaigns going on… You're daemonic legions have been trying to break free into the material universe but, well… it's tough to do that…"

"Whenever that idiot Abaddon has one of his black crusades it's like a friggin' hurricane in here! It's almost worth the fact he always screws up in some major way..."

"Well we could always start sending more visions to your champions. That always gets results. But it'll take like a week to get any results. Right not you're gunna get nuttin'"

"How dare you delay my… wait? Did you just say nuttin'?"

"Ya, you'll be getting nuttin' from you're followers until we can get those visions sent out."

"Do you mean nothing?"

"No I mean nuttin'."

"Stop saying that!"

"What? There's nuttin' wrong with what I'm saying"

"You said it again! I'm no expert on grammar but I know that what you are saying is wrong!"

Feeling unusually bold, and possibly suicidal, Skal continued. "Well you're entitled to your opinion sir." He would later regret this.

"It's not an opinion! It's common friggin' knowledge! I should call Tzeentch just to show you that I'm right!" Just then the ornate, bronze phone Khorne kept by his throne began to ring. Khorne picked it up immediately. "Hrm hmm hmm. Hello?"

A slightly high pitch, almost nerdy voice answered back. "Don't call me Khorne…"

"Tzeentch? I was just talking about you!"

"Ya I know."

Khorne gasped. "How did you know that? Have you been spying on me?"
"Khorne I really shouldn't have to have this conversation with you again. Just because you sustain abnormally large amounts of head trauma for a chaos god doesn't mean you can just forget something for the seven-billionth time."

"What are you talking about you treacherous snake?"

Tzeentch let out a long, drawn out sigh. "Khorne… for the last time… I am the God of Sorcery and Magick. Magick being a medieval term for psychic talents… in other words if you're talking about me I'm gunna hear it."

"Oh… umm." Suddenly a Khorne heard a girlish laugh come from the background in the phone. "Wait! Whose there with you!"

"Oh that's just Slaanesh, we were playing chess." Tzeentch said with no enthusiasm in his words.

"Hi Khorne!" Slaanesh shrieked in his/her rock star impression voice.

"Conspirators! You two have been plotting against me!"

"What? No, we were just playing a game…" Tzeentch said with irritation."

Khorne's words were a raging, slurred tirade. "You were playing a game alright, The Great Game! How dare you form a temporary pact to try and destroy me! If I wasn't so sure my mighty legions could crush your paltry armies I'de call Nurgle and tag team your asses!"

"Sounds like fun!" giggled Slaanesh.

"Slaanesh either keep it in you're pants, or keep stuff out. I don't which applies to you right now." Tzeentch said in a frustrated tone. "And as for you Khorne, we aren't plotting against you. We're playing chess for Warp's sake! By the way don't go bothering Nurgle. He's on vacation and he's been really depressed ever since those Tau found the cure to his latest plague. He doesn't need any of your crap right now."

"Oh… erm… ok." Khorne didn't know how to respond. "Can… I come play chess?"

"The last time you came to my place you left a gaint hole in my maze with a radius four hundred miles long. Not a record breaker…"

"Oh…"

"Look we'll go see a movie or something later but right now I… wait. No Slaanesh! Don't shove the bishop up there I just bought this chess set!" Tzeentch hung up.

"Huh…" Khorne said in contemplation.

"So nuttin' is a real term right?" Skal asked.

"What? Oh I forgot all about that…"

"Nuttin' wrong with that."

Khorne glared at him with the kind of intensity only a god could exert. A split second Skal exploded, his limbs, organs, and blood spraying out from one end of the throne room to the other.

"Haha that was fun!" Khorne exclaimed with a toothy grin. "Alright send in the next one…"

Suddenly another bloodletter appeared. "Hello my esteemed lord, it is an honor to serve the blood god. Erm…"

"Yes?" Khorne said glaring at him.

"I don't mean to be rude, but could you turn down the heat? It's a bit warm in here, I mean a lot of this blood Is literally boiling."

"Hmm…" Khorne said just before he made his new equerry explode like his predecessor.

"Next!"

Sure enough another appeared. "Boy is it hot in her-"

Khorne glared "If you complain about the heat I'll blow you up with the power of my rage…"

"I'm quite comfortable." said the new bloodletter with a smile.

"Good. Now then, come up with a solution to this blood shortage! Give me solutions! I want to be drenched in blood!"

"Well…" the bloodletter began to think critically. "Why not adjust the settings to where the blood only pours above you're throne?"

"Wait I can do that?"

"The controls are on the bronze arm rests on your skull throne sir… you put it there."

"Oh… I guess I forgot."

"Right… heh."

Khorne began to fidget with the controls, adjusting the range of release point and highlighted location in the throne room. Once Khorne had everything positioned correctly the blood began to pour in a steady concentrated stream above him. "Ah… finally" he said sticking out his long tongue to swallow some of the cascading fluid. Then it stopped.

"Ok what the Warp!" shouted Khorne. "Why the Warp did it stop!"

"I-I don't know my lord," the bloodletter said as he looked at the enchanted scroll that belonged to his predecessor's predecessor. "You should be receiving some blood."

Khorne looked up and noticed a large viscous blob forming from the warp portal above his head. "Ok… that's new…." The blob began to grow steadily. It was a light, glistening brown; though strands of crimson clearly showed that some blood was still coming.

The blob's girth continued to expand, to where it was at least three times lager then almighty Khorne himself. "My lord… What do we do!"

"I don't know… this has never happened before!" Khorne yelled with the tiniest amount of worry in his voice.

Suddenly the blob began to droop downwards, the majority of its volume near its lowest point while some remained atop by the warp portal. It slowly approached them an inch per minute. Both reacted in a panic.

"Argh! What do we do what do we do!"

"I don't know!"

"Are we under attack or something!"

"I don't know! This has never happened before!"

"Aaargh!"

Finally the undulating mass at the lowest point finally became too massive to remain attached with its remainder. It split from it's upper portion and plummeted towards Khorne and his equerry. The splash was massive, covering the skull throne and all those near it. Ripples traversed all across the blood ocean. The new equerry was swept away by the tide of sticky, brown syrup.

Khorne remained unmoved, but was completely veiled in the glutinous substance. He say there for a good five minutes, not knowing how to react. Finally he let out a response. "Oh… Oh… wha… wha… how… why… ugh… ugh… oh… ugh… why… Why… why did this… ugh…"

Finally his equerry pulled himself out of the blood shore, still covered in the unknown substance. "Sir… are you," he coughed out nearly a gallon of the stuff, "are you ok?"

Khorne's internal glow of rage began to increase in intensity. Not only did he exude a red glow but also a burning heat that only a daemon god could emit. Despite the fact that the substance was still pouring down in a slow, steady stream the heat of Khorne was enough to sizzle away. It left a sticky coating on the skull throne and area near it. Khorne's equerry licked some of it off. "Hmm… you know this stuff tastes pretty good."

Khorne leaned over him and let out a earth shattering roar of rage. Blood and fire spewed forth from his maw. "This was an affront to… to me! I knew Tzeentch and Slaanesh were planning something! It had to be them!"

The equerry looked back at his now wet scroll. "Actually my lord, it wasn't them."

"I'll tear their throats out and shove it right down the holes where their throats used to be!

"Sir…"

"Then I'll rip off Tzeentch's wings and shove them straight up his weird, tight, little-"

"My lord!"

Khorne looked down at his equerry. "What?"

"It wasn't them sir. From what I'm seeing this… stuff came from a forest world called Deron. A few berserkers are there now, maybe they'll know something about this?"

"If they had anything to do with drenching me in this crap I'm gunna swallow their souls…" Just as he said that a large globule of the substance containing strange, wooden objects landed on Khorne's face. The bloodletter knew what was coming and instinctively ran to the blood ocean. He dived into it and swam as deep as he could. Above the surface Khorne rose into the air, the air reverberated due to his sheer power. Flames swirled across the room like a fiery wind. The blood began to churn as some of it was swept up into the wind. The was short lived, as a moment after it began Khorne disappeared in an explosion of ruinous power. The bloodletter felt discombobulated due to being trapped in the still swirling blood. As he rose to the surface he realized that his master was no longer here with him, or even in the realm of the Warp. Woe to the mortal realm…

Back on Deron…

"Haha! Death to you and you're saplings!" Goran roared as his chain-axe ate through what seemed like the thousandth tree of the day. Realizing his men had no more foes to battle, or innocents to slaughter, he had concocted what seemed like a brilliant scheme; slaying trees in the name of the blood god. His men were once again bathed in the blood of a foe, and though these trees didn't fight back it was quite an arduous task to fell one of them. For miles around them trees laid strewn about and their stumps desecrated with axe marks. His fellow berserkers were still tearing their way through the planetary forest. Their limbs were aching, and their weapons worn dull. This would not discourage them however, for Goran had convinced their twisted minds that this was what Khorne desired. Goran was sure the Lord of War would be pleased.

Suddenly the tranquil blue sky began to darken and twist to a shade of dark crimson. Lightning filled the sky and warp fire danced about in a hellish light show. The berserkers halted their genocide of trees and looked up. Far up in the sky a massive, glowing, horned skull hovered over them staring at them with utter contempt.

"What… in the name of me… are you morons doing!"

The khorne berserkers looked at the skull in awe, for they knew who it was. They dropped to their knees and bowed before their god. Goran spoke in a shaky voice, trying to maintain his courage infront of such a mighty being. "Lord Khorne, almighty blood god… Why have you honored us with you're presence?"

"I'm here because I just got covered in some sticky crap and I'm wondering whose souls I have to incinerate because of it!"

"You mean the sap… Lord Khorne?"

"Is that what it is? What the frig man! I'm the Blood God not the friggin' Maple Syrup Fairy!"

"They have that?'

"No!"

"Oh…" Goran thought a moment. "Well… sap is like tree blood."

Suddenly a flash of purple lightning struck a berserker near Goran."No it isn't! It is nothing alike! I like to bathe in the blood of the vanquished! Can you imagine how dismayed I was when the vanquished! Can you imagine how dismayed I was when I got covered with a couple thousand gallons of syrup! Slaanesh is the one who likes to get covered in sticky stuff! Sticky… gross… unmentionable stuff…"

"Oh…"

"Look… just. Stop killing trees!"

"Yes Lord Khorne! We live to do you're will!"

"Uh huh… I'm going home…"

The sky faded back to it's original blue hue and the firestorm dispersed. The Khorne berserkers had learned a valuable lesson this day, No Substitutions.

And now a word from Tzeentch and Khorne!

"Hi kids!" Tzeentch said.

"How are you little future followers of chaos?" Khorne asked rhetorically.

"We had a lot of fun today, but it's important to know something. Its something that affects us in our everyday life. I think we all know what I'm talking about. Right Khorne?"

"Yep. Remember kids, shoving chess pieces into your various orifices isn't cool, It's dangerous!"

"And disrespectful to the mighty mental sport of Chess. You see children chess was invented in 4500 b.c. by the great five-lobed sea creature, Galaxar. He used the chess pieces to ward off vile sea nymphs who wanted to use their sexual wiles to con him out of his fortune… probably. Eventually humans began using chess pieces as a food source, but thousands died due to chess poisoning. So now we play a game with them for some reason."

"Not to mention the fact that thousands of third world children die every day to make the chess pieces to your chess set. Besides, a bishop doesn't belong in you're butt, a priest does."

"HAH! Anyway… remember this helpful ryhm. If you're butt has a knight, its gunna hurt alright, and if you're butt shoots poo, well that's what it should do."

"is that true?"

"Hell if I know…"

"Ya…" suddenly Khorne's cell phone started toning. "Hello? Uh huh. Ok. Umm… really? Well we didn't know that. We thought it was about chess… it wasn't? Oh… Ya Tzeentch seems we made a mistake."

"What?"

"Yep. Turns out the lesson we were suppose to teach was something about forest conservation."

"Gay…"

"That's what I thought…"

"Ok we're rambling lets just end this…"

"Goodnight, one and all. Blood for me!"