plague war

medieval mad max. everything is very slow. half life black death plagued war boys worship the carrot on a stick because it makes their horses go faster. do not get addicted to water because it’s full of everyone else’s piss and shit. drink wine or beer instead. doof wagon full of nuns hymning at full blast. immortan joe is the pope.

The Plague Wars


The first invaders to issue forth from the Scourge Stars were the Death Guard, led by their grim Primarch, Mortarion. His meticulously planned seven-part campaign would bring untold ruination to all of Ultramar. So began the first part – the War of Flies – including the assault of the Three Planets, the besieging of the hive world of Ardium, and the Creeping Doom offensive against Espandor and Drohl. Virus bombardments preceded the Death Guard. Once-gloried hive cities became pits, and agri worlds became flyblown wastes. The attacks were slow but relentless, wearing down the Ultramarines and their auxilia. With communications severed and relief forces cut off by fresh warp storms, the defenders were hard-pressed in a hundred locations across Ultramar. Then, Roboute Guilliman returned from his galaxy-spanning crusade. Tactically, Mortarion and his fellow commanders now found themselves evenly matched, their offensives blocked at every turn by the Ultramarines and their Primarch’s precise counter-attacks. A new stage of the war had begun.


Ku’gath Plaguefather, a favoured Great Unclean One, led the Bubonicus legions into Ultramar. Typhus, First Captain of the Death Guard, commanded a Plague Fleet, a dilapidated rot-armada packed with Renegades, cultists and his own loyal Death Guard. Ku’gath’s Daemon legions ravaged the Tartella System, which lay between the Scourge Stars and Ultramar, before manifesting on the garden world of Iax, an ideal place to nurture new diseases. The Plague Fleet, meanwhile, destroyed three of the six massive star fortresses that stood sentinel over Ultramar’s shipping lanes. Even with Guilliman’s return, the attacks were too many and too widespread for the defenders to contain. The timely arrival of the Ultramarines’ successor Chapters, however, along with reinforcements from several forge worlds, allowed the Primarch to attempt to regain the initiative. Guilliman launched the Spear of Espandor counter-attack, hoping to buy the forces of the Imperium more time.

Final Battle

With Mortarion’s Creeping Doom offensive mired in continent-spanning trench warfare in the Espandor System, the Daemon Primarch shifted his focus, joining forces with Ku’gath. Together, they sent their surviving forces to Parmenio and Iax simultaneously. On Parmenio, the largest armour and Titan battle of the war took place over the shell-ridden Plains of Hecatone. At the battle’s height, Roboute Guilliman struck against Ku’gath’s vanguard, slaying his lieutenant, Septicus, and shattering his Plague Guard. In space, Galatan – Ultramar’s largest star fortress – attempted to provide support but was boarded by the Plague Fleet. Massive casualties ensued, including the loss of the Novamarines’ Chapter Master. TheUltramarines and their auxilia made gains on Parmenio, and Guilliman led a relief force to Iax. Once a verdant garden world, it was in ruins when Primarch met Primarch. Guilliman confronted Mortarion, fighting to a deadlock before the Death Guard withdrew under cover of a virus bomb.

Source: Warhammer 40k 8th Edition Rulebook - pp. 154-159

@warhammer40kdatabase @askrobouteguilliman40k @renegade-chaos-druid One of the new major events in 40k

People talk about Harry’s generation skipping their last year, the War and the past 9 months having been filled with the sounds of pain, cackling and the scurried sound of school shoes on stone. But what about the battle worn soldiers, no longer ‘just kids’, who have been exposed to events their parents never thought possible.

-First years sticking together in groups as they clutch hands going around corners, their siblings having tried to preserve Hogwarts in her glory but the War having plagued them.

-Students, eyes hardened, whos hands quietly shake constantly, gaze jumping at a rate that would’ve made Mad Eye jealous.

- Madame Pomfrey providing Dreamless Sleep Potions for those plagued by the things that they’ve seen or done.

- Older students who constantly have a grip on their wands up their sleeves as they go about their own, ears straining for the sound of up and coming dangers.

-16-17 year olds being afraid of going around dark corners, Lumos on the tip of their tongues as they brace their shoulders and walk.

- Teachers who watch the once laughing older students, who used to chatter at anything, flinch, jolt, and dive for the nearest cover at the sound of a bang or clattering utensil.

-The number of ghosts having exploded from the Battle. Opague faces of ex-mentors, friends and teachers float by, helping those who have trouble gaining help because 'I’m fine’ has become a mantra and a smile has become a second nature in the minds of the older years.

-Silencing charms having been perfected by those plagued by nightmares. Those who don’t sleep come into class, a haunted, glassy look in their eyes, alert the teachers as to whom not to ask questions to that day.

- Students being shocked at finally seeing whst pulls the carriages, having watched friends, foe and family drop in front of them that past May night.

- Hogwarts students finally congregating together, portraits casting aside passwords, having seen the wild look in older siblings’ eyes, the need to make sure their little, so little, siblings are okay, they’re okay.

- Blood and last name doesn’t mean anything after the War. House colours are being exchanged and melded together as professors find Slytherin and Hufflepuffs consoling Gryffindor and Ravenclaws through panic attacks.

Hogwarts takes time to heal and after a while, there is laughter in the halls. Quidditch is taken more seriously, clubs are being congregated again and instead of empty, cold halls and walls, the school is once more filled with happiness, with mischief and mayhem. The Houses never go back to sealing themselves off to their own values, it becomes a normity of seeing a Badger or two in with the Ravens, a Raven with the Lions and a few Snakes with the Lions or Badgers. After all, Dumbledore wanted House Unity, all it took was two wars and Death to achieve it.

Hi I am here with you today to talk about Apollo’s darker aspects because they deserved to be talked about at least once in the Apollo*/apollon tag.

- Apollo killed Python and was punished for it because Python was Gaia’s child.

- Hera apparently sent down Tityos to attempt rape on Leto, and Apollo (and Artemis!) slayed Tityos. No hard feelings, Hera, right?

- Trojan war, plague, all Apollo. Killed many people and livestock for his priest’s daughter. How thoughtful.

- … Aided in the killing of Achilles. I know it’s been like, years or whatever, but I’m not over it.

- So, Zeus struck down Asclepius (because Asclepius resurrected Hippolytus), and in revenge, Apollo killed the Cyclopes that crafted Zeus’s lightning bolt.

- In case you didn’t know, Apollo was suppose to be banished to TARTARUS FOREVER (for the above point), but they just decided that He’d be bainished from Olympus for a year doing hard labor.

- Apollo killed like, seven kids because their mother boasted about being better than Leto ‘cause Leto ‘only had two kids’ well someone forgot that they were fucking GODS.

Summary: The God of Chill™ has no chill. Also has great family values.

a time for peace

Hi so I just had a lot of feelings about how emotionally tired our babies must be after all this nonsense, and thought some angst and hugging after The Final Battle was in order.

Dazed and buzzing with fresh relief, it feels wrong for the lot of them to simply part ways for the night. At some point, it’s agreed on that there’s no need to wake Granny this late at night when the loft has a perfectly good stove, and so that’s where they all go. Killian holds Emma tightly as they walk, feeling her exhaustion in the heaviness of her steps—so at odds with the radiant peace on her face.

He wishes he were in such good shape. He feels like he’s holding hysteria only just at bay.

Keep reading

A headcanon

Across the different flights in Sornieth, paintings and portraits of a family member, figures in history etc are often able to be found within family archives, museums and temples. 

Light and Fire are known for their stained glass. Where Light enjoys the fluidity and brightness of gouache, fire uses their plentiful supply of charcoal.

Water varies between oil paintings and stone carvings. After all, you do not want the waves to take off with your work, do you?. 

Earth has the carvings as well as frescoes, and a fondness for stone lithography.

Arcane prefers scientific sketches or watercolor portraits. 

Lightning, while business owners are done in oil, enjoys the profit that printmaking brings them.

Ice is similar in practice to Arcane and Lightning. Battles documented in oil, but most everything else done in ink sketches or charcoal.

Nature artisans are skilled with watercolor as well as wood block prints. 

Plague documents their war leaders in whatever medium seems the most dangerous at the time. 

Shadow, as their lands are so steeped in darkness, put glowing spores and chemicals from the local plants to make their paintings and drawings glow, but usually only the eyes. It’s fun in spooking people, isnt it?

Wind artisans enjoy wood block prints and ink drawings, letting the breeze inspire the long fluid strokes. 

All of the flights use color, as it is often a symbol of pride. Eye color especially is made clear in artwork, as one wants to acknowledge the flight they come from and where they’ve grown and set their loyalties to. 

But among them, many dragons are done in complete black and white. Those portraits, those monotone figures, are Shade-touched. 

When the Shade first attacked Sornieth in the Third Age, part of what marked its entrance was how the plants and animals seemed to dull in color. Many Shade-touched dragons became dull, and some simply drained of all color to become completely black and white. 

When artists saw this, they began to portray Shade-blighted dragons in black and white, should the dragon’s affliction be known. If a dragon was portrayed that was Shaded, but the artist nor anyone else knew, the image’s eyes often become dull over time, until they faded to a deep gray or black. 

This revelation was quite startling for many, and often led to dragons being ousted for their affliction, if not worse.

Image: La Belle Limonadiere, hand coloured etching (1816). Lemonade was ubiquitous in mid-17th century Paris. (Courtesy of The British Library Board/The Overlook Press)

Did a thirst for lemonade keep Paris safe from the bubonic plague? Did ergot poisoning lead to the Crusades? According to Tom Nealon’s Food Fights and Culture Wars, it’s a distinct possibility.

How Lemonade Helped Paris Fend Off Plague And Other Surprising ‘Food Fights’

Here we have the CMC as they appear in the Arranged Marriage!AU; Apple Bloom the minotaur calf, Scootaloo the orphaned griffon, and Sweetie Belle, the princess of Equestria (just like her sister!). I was gonna have Spike be included in the picture too but I think I’ll upload him separately with a glimpse of his parents in this AU. For now, the CMC!

These three are still the best of friends in this AU, although I don’t think they’d very much be out trying to find their cutie marks so much as they’re trying to make their lives more exciting. Or, maybe they are trying to find their cutie marks (even though Scoots and AB can’t get one), and they’re simply trying to find their purpose in the world.

Sweetie already knows her purpose; she’s the second in line for the throne once Rarity becomes queen, but truth be told as much as Sweetie loves her family and her interest in politics, she doesn’t really want that responsibility. It isn’t guaranteed, of course, especially if Rarity produces a child of her own, but the possibility remains. She’d be in the CMC to find out what other purpose she could possibly adopt that’ll allow her to live the way she wants, without conflicting with her responsibilities as a princess in the future.

Scootaloo wasn’t born in Equestria; similarly to Rainbow Dash, her parents immigrated to Equestria to escape their home country and the war plaguing it, but unfortunately her parents wasn’t able to survive long; perhaps they were victims of a hate crime. However it happened, Scootaloo was orphaned and originally thrown in an unkindly orphanage where she was treated differently because she’s a griffon. Luckily her stay in the orphanage was short; Rainbow’s parents came across the little filly and were so endeared to her they decided to adopt her into their family, with Dash being of course the cool big sister figure. She eventually meets and becomes good friends with Sweetie and Apple Bloom, and with them she goes on wild little adventures to find her purpose. She believes its to be a guard in the Equestrian army, like Dash, but who knows what the future has in store.

And finally Apple Bloom, little sister to Applejack and resident in Ponyville. I’d say that Apple Bloom actually actively works on the farm because, despite being loved citizens by the Ponyville population, the Apple Family (being minotaurs) are still not as trusted by others in the country because they aren’t ponies. I’d even go so far to say that Apple Bloom might be the primarily one selling their wares when school’s out and she’s brought along with AJ; doubtful or suspicious ponies might feel more comfortable with a small child than they would a towering Applejack. Not that AB minds; she’s willing to work if it means her family can live a happier life. But, that doesn’t stop her from joining Sweetie and Scoots on their quest to find some sort of bigger purpose to their lives. If she could, Apple Bloom would be interested in perhaps being a blacksmith for the Belle family, partly because it’s a well-paying job and it’d secure a living for her family, and partly because she’s beyond fascinated with how things, particularly tools and weapons, are made.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand there ya go! As always there are some things that could be subject to change, but that’s all I have thus far for this gals. Feel free to ask any questions if you have any, and I hope you like the art! ^.^

I listened to mama three times on my way to work this morning, and idk if most of you know this but I work at a history museum in period costume, and as I was headbanging and singing violently in my car in a full 1880s costume I got thinking about mama in connection with the victorian idea of memento mori, which actually dates back centuries before that too, and literally translates to “remember you must die” so it’s like “mama we’re all gonna die/we all go to hell” is essentially saying the same thing? Is it more brutal? yes. Is it in language not really appropriate for the victorian propriety ideals? you betcha. But is it essentially the same message? yeah! they wanted you to really know that you could die at ANY TIME and mostly due to the “scourges of god” which were famine, plague, and war, and that’s referenced a lot in tbp and this song with “what the war did to my legs and and to my tongue” and also “the infection” referenced and all that so it’s like!!! and most of the focus of this remembrance of death was based around the idea that you would know you’re gonna die so that you can have been a good person (or more like good in terms of your respective religion) and go to heaven, so this just eliminates the whole attempt to be good and get into heaven on the part of gerard at least and is just like hey we’re gonna die and the devil is waiting!!! a surprise party??? For me??? You shouldn’t have

In your Arms (ThorinXReader)

Originally posted by tinysofia

Request for anonymous who requested; “ Could you write something where during the quest the reader gets kinda overwhelmed by everything and has a panic attack. But Thorin sees the reader run off and he goes and he helps/comforts them through it? (from either Thorin or readers persepctive)”

Word Count: 875 (sorry it’s so short)

Your POV:

It had all seemed so simple at the beginning, a journey across Middle Earth to reclaim a lost home. Yet, as your lungs hungrily drew in breath, you remind yourself that nothing could hae prepared you for this.

You sat among the dwarves, your cold wet body shaking as you stare down at the water below. The rivers current had grown calmer the further away from Mirkwood you had traveled but that did nothing to calm your racing heart.

You looked around at the once strong, proud dwarves and found dwarves, covered in masks of frustration as their bodies fought to meet the earth in a comforting embrace. They ached for rest, yet they would not find it here, not when their King was so close to his stolen home.

The thought of entering the great Kingdom of Erebor caused your breath to catch and you begin to feel faint. Your mind plagues war within itself, one side fighting to stay strong and the other withering away in fear. Why now? Why fall victim to fear after everything you had already endured;

The piercing bite of a Warg as your Company escaped to the hidden entrance of Rivendale. During the battle of the Storm Giants, when you had been thrown from the ledge, and your body had fallen through the jagged cliffs until your hands caught a ridge, protecting you from death. From the aggressive hold of a Goblin obeying his King. From the shape shifter that trailed your steps and tracked you by the scent of your blood. The grudge holding Elven King that threatened to cage you for eternity.

Why now?….Why not now?

Everything clashed in your mind and your vision tunneled. Your chest tightened as if a clawed hand held it in his grasp, crushing bone and flesh. Your body shook and tsunamis raged in your stomach.

Thorin’s voice barely broke through the muted haze in which only the sound of your blood traveling through your veins could pierce your overworked mind. “Help the girl up and we will move on.” Girl. A flicker of emotion washes through you. Pain. Loss.

There was a time when he would have called you friend, maybe something more, but the King had changed. His mind was now set solely upon reclaiming his gold, as if a sickness compelled him.

Blurred hands reached for your body, but fear flushed through you in waves. A piercing scream sliced through the air and the hands retracted in fear and shock. The hollowing scream died upon your lips and your feet ached to take you away. Away from the fear and the uncertainty. And you let them.

Your body moved in sharp, pained movements as you moved to your feet and heavily dragged them across the ground into the surrounding forest.

You stumbled blindly as breath evaded you. You collapsed to your knees and surrendered to the chaos.


Time liquefied. Minutes felt like years, seconds felt like weeks. As the subtle thud of footsteps padded across mossy rock, it had felt like eons had passed, yet your heart still hurt, your breath still brushed from your breath faster than ever and your body still shook.

A muscular body gracefully fell to it’s knees and you felt heated breath feather across your skin.

“Oh my sweet angel.”


Thorin’s POV:

As I look down at the beautiful woman I had grown to love, I feel a pain I can only compare to death pierce through my heart.

How did I let this happen? How do I fix my broken angel? Her breathing is still too fast, and I know it won’t take long before she would faint.

“(y/n), listen to me. Listen to my voice.“ Slowly I reach out to brush my hand against her cheek. When she doesn’t pull away, I lace my hands through hers, desperately trying to keep her grounded.

"You need to breathe, my angel.” I breathe gently, as I pull our linked hands to rest against my chest. "Breathe with me, focus on me. Breathe In…” I take a deep breath in. I hear her desperately struggling to breathe in air and quietly wait for her to do so at your own pace. “And out.” I continue, slowly letting the air breathe past my lips.

I hear her breathing slowly ease back and her shaking slowly stops. Taking a deep breath, I tentatively reach down and lift her chin, wiping away the escaped tears.

Her lips shakily open and I am surprised to hear her whispered words; "W- w-why did you c-come after me? You changed. You d-d-don’t care.”

Pain flickers through me and without thought, I pull her into my arms.

“I am so sorry my angel. I know I have changed. I feel it too, and it frightens me. Yet I never wish to hurt you. You mean more to me then anything my love, and if you wished it, I would turn away from the Mountain and return to the Blue Mountains with you now. I am in love with you, and I will always be here for you.”

I feel her relax and sigh in content, her arms wrap around me in return and her next words rob me of breath.

Your POV:

“I love you too my king, and there is no need to take me anywhere, for I have found my home in your arms.”