:::A dark room somewhere in the cavernous foothills of northwest Texas . . . :::
(Yes, Father Tzeentch, I did as you ordered; I placed the post "can't re-roll a re-roll . . . " on Warhammer-Empire, and the result was just as you predicted; the loyal brothers of the Empire are now at each others throats arguing over a rule that twists their minds and haunts their souls like the vastness of eternity. They've even begun sharing stories of wife swapping in Belgrade this summer. Soon they will be ripe for the picking . . . by the time our armies reach their gates, I will unleash my minions from behind their very backs, and we will crush them like a Shaggoth swats a Gnoblar . . . not even their precious Sigmar can save them now . . . )