Seeking answers?
Orks: You’ve always been the type to speak your mind. If you want to WAAUUUGGHHHH you have to let everyone know–even if no one else in the tournament hall wants to hear that every 15 minutes. If you think Da ‘Umies aren’t playing fair, you inform them with big ol’ slugga shells and a rusty, unsharpened Choppa blade. Even your fellow green skin can get it if one of Da Boyz is actin up.
Imperial Guard: Maybe it’s time to start that small business you’ve always dreamed of. Most of your life has been in service, and you may really hate that. And while you truly value your loyalty to others, It’s you who’s being sent in to fight giant bugs and crazed humans with eight-pointed stars carved into their foreheads. It’s you who was forced to clean latrines while the fat cats lounged and made good off of your loyalty. Rise up and lease that storefront. The world wants to buy your hand-knitted stocking caps.
Drukhari: The therapy isn’t working, is it? And you’ve always been the type to take matters into your own hands. Others may call you mean names—perv, creep, weirdo, murderer—but you don’t care. And you shouldn’t, because you’re a true individual. You worked your little butt off to amass such a big collection of skin suits. Be proud.
Harlequins: You’ve always been the weird kid–laughing at jokes no one thought were funny. That one time you just started laughing uncontrollably in pre-school and had to be sedated. But things have gotten better in recent years. You and your cosplaying buddies have had some honest to god adventures, and you’re feeling good about your life choices.
Legion of the Damned: You have more in common with the squats than anyone else these days. You’ve spent your life rescuing crybaby humans from certain death, and what’s your treatment? You don’t even get a nice backstory explaining that you got lost in the warp like those werewolf idiots from Russ’s contingent. You’re mad. But you can’t do anything about it. That’s what we like to call acceptance.
Space Wolves: You thought it was puberty, but the new hairs never stopped growing. Now, you’re just angry all the time. And you smell. There is only one solution.
Alpha Legion: People always said you were dishonest. You know that you’re just misunderstood. People always said they don’t know who you really are; you know that you’re a natural enigma the likes of which defies the human psyche. People say you lie, cheat and steal to get what you want. When they say that, you stab them.
World Eaters: You really need to chill out. If your friends have to hear 15 more recitations of, “Blood for the Blood God,” you really won’t get any more skulls for the skull throne.
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