Kreelith ‘Agony Aunt’ Tongue-Tearer Answers Your Woes.

Here at Woehammer, we like to look after our readers. And we know that sometimes our readers feel sad, mad, salty, and other unpleasant emotions. So we recently engaged the services of Kreelith ‘Agony Aunt’ Tongue-Tearer to make sure we had someone… sensitive… on hand, to make you feel heard and shed some blood caring wisdom on your woes.

Kreelith will be back in a fortnight to answer/ridicule your woes – if you have something to get out of your chest, or just want a safe space to utter an absolutely terrible (but humorously worded) take, we want you to pop us a message in the #AgonyAunt channel on our discord, or tweet @Woe_Hammer (remember to address your tweet to Kreelith, or she’ll be sad.)

ROLL your dice, don’t yeet them!

Kreelith, my regular opponent is one of THOSE people… You know, someone who can’t roll dice properly. He flings them at the board with unnecessary force, sending dice scattering into my miniatures and getting stuck under terrain. I feel like I spend half the game picking up his dice from the floor! Worse, he refuses to use a dice try. What can I do?

Yours, Diced and Confused

There are many things in this pitiful, brutish and short life I despise – the perverted thralls of Slaanesh, spilling blood on the carpets instead of over my bare, battle-scarred skin, and people that can’t control their dice.

The clue is in the phrase ‘roll a dice’ – does one throw a dice? Does one yeet a dice? No, a dice exists to be rolled much like my sciansa exist to plunge into soft flesh. Warhammer, much like the filling the blood cauldron, is a sacred ritual – and depends on finesse and a sense of rhythm. It pains me to hear they refuse the help of a dice tray – we use cauldrons because otherwise the blood cannot stay where it is useful – why should a tray be any different? Dice do not belong on the floor.

Perhaps forcing your opponent to eat any dropped dice may help them to better observe the rites. If not, it may be that 10 ritual cuts to bathe the dice in their own blood may be more persuasive. Failing that, finish exsanguinating them since you already made a start, and find a new opponent with better wrist discipline.


Kreelith, I just want to play Warhammer but my children never go to bed on time! Any advice? 

Yours,  A Diceperate Father

Unruly adherents of Khaine that ignore their orders are usually the ones who have not spent enough time that day in the throes of a frenzied murder-trance. One always sleeps better after a good vigorous evisceration session. Perhaps your little witches are simply restless? Discipline is all very well and good, but it is better if your vexatious progeny think that what you want them to do was their own idea – some may call this indoctrination, or slavish adherence to a death-cult – I prefer to think of it as … subtlety. Of course, it’s understandable they want to watch you play Warhammer – their tiny, feeble minds need all the training in the ways of strategic tabletop bloodletting they can get. Unless – they want to remain vertical and awake for some other reason? The mindless consummation of digital media, perhaps? In this tragic event, I suggest you tell them the stories of what Khaine does to those who do not worship him appropriately. Leave no detail out. Granted, they may have difficulty sleeping for a few nights until the terror fades slightly, but they will thank both their glorious murder daddy – and their glorious non-murder daddy, in the long run.

Not so scaly anymore!

Dear agony aunt, Why can’t everyone realize that scaly skin wasn’t broken and let my skinks and slaans have it back so they aren’t so squishy?

Yours, A Great Planner

In the Temple of Hagg-Nar, we have a saying: ‘Once the blood is spilled you can’t put it back.’ Change is inevitable. The Mortal Realms make play things of us all – survival is not mandatory. Also, anyone who has been up close and personal with a Slaan – and I mean, two daggers hilt-deep personal – will know they only have a few small scales on their froggy feet. They’re definitely squishy everywhere else. It’s the price they pay for their brains. Which can obliterate you from miles off. So it’s only fair they don’t also get those bloody scales. Not sure why they don’t just wear armour though? My guess is arrogance, they just think getting shanked isn’t part of their highfalutin Great Plan! I’d say it’s the logic behind why I wear a skimpy ceremonial bikini instead of double layered, tempered chain mail. I couldn’t do my bloodletting-boogie weighed down with armour now, could I?

As for those pesky little skinks, it’s always disappointing how little blood they actually contain. Hopefully we’ll see a few more of their bigger, juicier Kroxigor friends now they need something to hide behind. Now those big crocs can fill a cauldron, let me tell you. Their blood is blue, though, which is annoying as it clashes with the Blood Wagon’s colour scheme. Ah well, you can’t have everything, right?

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