Wortbad was waiting impatiently. He had given his plan to the kommandos, and he trusted they would succeed. They were the most kunnin boyz he had around after all. Still, even they could not make time go faster. And so the warboss waited, looking at the unnatural light of the immaterium passing by his ship.<br/><br/>It had always been rather strange how attracted he had been to it. Even orks knew on some basic instict to not stare into the warp, and yet here he was doung just that. Perhaps it was because his greatest inspirations always came when he looked in. He never quite knew why, but he was sure that such times he could see glimpses of a birdlike being of utterly impossible anatomy. He didn't recognize it, orks didn't believe in the existence of gods other than Gork and Mork after all, and yet, that phantom is waht carried him to greatness.<br/><br/>It was that which whispered the plan to him to overthrow his own kaptin. It was this phantom that had gifted him the kunnin to remain the kaptain for as long as he did, and yet that same being would not hesitate to throw him aside the moment he had outlived his usefulness.<br/><br/>And then, Wortbad's unseen advisor showed his many faces again. To Wortbad's retinue it would appear as if the boss was staring even more blankly into space than usual. It wasn't something the meganobs usually noticed, what with their constant quarrelling. In wortbad's mind however, visions were created of conquest, glory, and most importantly, lots of shiny gubbins. It was the usual prelude to catch the ork's attention. It was then followed by orders to play into a plan too grand for any mortal to comprehend, orders which wortbad had been following eversince he had first gazed into the warp through sime bizarre incident. Or at least, it had appeared to have been an accident.