For those of you who don't know the story, you can read about it here. But honestly you can get the gist of it by reading my tongue-in-cheek post.
I was thinking today about how it serves as a warning against becoming complacent and lethargic, wallowing in riches and splendor. And how ironic it is that GW's pricing practices and business efforts are becoming more and more alienating and (from the looks of it) selfish.
So I'm gonna copy/paste a few snippets from the story here. I'll put my own substitutions in bold.
The Fall of Games Workshop occurred over ten thousand years ago and ended the Games Workshop supremacy in the miniatures industry. They were at the height of their empire and held sway over the vast majority of customers. Their worlds were war torn and full of grim darkness and cultural achievement, and then it was all but destroyed.
Even before this time, it had been feared that Games Workshop would fall. The Old Ones (Rick Priestly, Andy Chambers, Alessio Cavatore, et al.) warned Games Workshop about it, but their predictions and warnings were forgotten and ignored over time.
Games Workshop came to believe that all other game companies were below them, even so far as taking them to court for questionable IP infringement. This proud and arrogant idea was proven by their advanced technology and control of the consumer base. They created many beautiful things and lived long lives and when they died, their spirits returned to the Warp. Slowly, the pride of Games Workshop overcame their caution and they became ever more proud and arrogant. They had long since outgrown the need for physical labour as finecast miniatures, quality paints and expensive terrain provided all, leaving them with only their own desires to satisfy.
Mat Ward gave in to his hedonistic desires and army books and codices sprang up over the Games Workshop systems dedicated to the different aspects of powergaming and absurd fluff. Gradually, Games Workshop authors grew more and more divided by the different books. The white dwarf team became more and more corrupt, delving into vicious marketing ploys, verging on sadism. Sadistic business suits prowled the streets in search of victims, attempting to find new ways to satisfy their needs. It became harder and harder to satisfy their decadent desires so the acts became more desperate. Soon the streets were flooded with ex-Games Workshop customers and the bestial roar of the crowds could be heard throughout the Games Workshop empire.
However, the degeneration of Games Workshop did not go without resistance. Derided as fanatics obsessed with self-denial and suffering by a hedonistic society, many Games Workshop employees free from the corruption plaguing their company - from raving madmen to genuine survivalists - fled their offices in assorted luxury vehicles. After battling numerous dangers in the real world, and disaster at the hands of natural predators and incursions from the lower-middle class these 'Exodites' (named from their 'Exodus') settled untamed countrysides far from Games Workshop territory, at the fringes of the midlands in England. Life was difficult for a people unused to physical labour and self-denial.
As a direct result of this foul depravity, a new miniatures company was spawned, formed mainly by Games Workshop lusts and desires. No other miniatures company created had such a violent birth as this company, or was as powerful or monstrous. For the years before, Games Workshop had been plagued with the images of the sleeping entity. Games Workshop executives slew each other and feasted on the corpses of their fellow kin, while the offices around them burned. As this new company was born, there was not a single Games Workshop devotee who didn't feel the pain. With a psionic cry, The new company assaulted Nottingham and the spirits of Games Workshop employees were drawn from their bodies and sucked into the warp.
The epicentre of the psychic implosion lay within the heart of Nottingham, where Games Workshop headquarters was located. Most of the Games Workshop employees and fans throughout the earth died, their spirits sucked into the warp, and many new settlements were overtaken. Far from Nottingham, many of the Exodite villages survived the Fall, though some shared the fate of numerous settlements and with Nottingham. Games Workshop was now a scattered company, to be hunted by the new miniatures company for the rest of eternity.
Nottingham became the Eye of Terror. The ancient Halls of Warhammer World are now the homes of the followers of this new company.
Edit: This is a fitting 666th post.