A Space Marine Captain, Eldar Farseer and Imperial Guard Commander stand atop a ridge overlooking a massive Ork Waaaggh! The likes of which stretches as far as the eye can see, and each recognises that defeat is certain.

The Captain turns to his subordinate and says 'Brother, prepare my crimson armor.' His subordinate asks why, and he replies. 'So that when they slash and cut me with their blades, our brethren will not see the blood that flows from my wounds and lose heart'.

The Farseer considers the Captain's words, and turns to her own subordinate. 'Prepare me my obsidian armor' she says. 'So that when they burn me with their flames, our men will not see my body scorched black and despair.'

The Imperial Guardsman looks them both over for a moment, in quiet contemplation before reaching a decision. Turning to his officer he whispers, "Lieutenant, fetch me my brown pants".

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