“It is the 21st Millennium. For more than a hundred centuries The Daemons Rules Writer has sat immobile. He is the Master of lethargy by the will of the Games Workshop, and master of a million waiting Daemons players by the might of their inexhaustible ineptitude. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Matt Ward. He is the Carrion Lord of the Immaterium for whom the expectations of a thousand Daemons players are sacrificed every day, so that their rules updates my never truly be published.
Yet even in his inactive state, the Daemons rules writer continues his eternal vigilance. Mighty players of other factions cross the error-infested miasma of the 40K Rules Writing, the only route between distant codices, their way lit by the FAQ team, the psychic manifestation of James Workshop’s will. Vast armies give battle in his name on uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst his soldiers are the Heretic Astartes, the Chaos Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Renegade Guard and… actually Renegade Guard don’t even exist anymore. Sorry to get your hopes up.
To be a Daemons player in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruelest and most inept rules writing regime imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of previous editions, for so much has been forgotten, never to be re-learned. Forget the promise of progress and points drops for our overcosted units, for in the grim dark future there is only waiting. There is no peace amongst the Chaos fanbase, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the sobbing of disappointed Daemons players.”
Existence is suffering.