The Master of Change is unable to accept that which will surely come to pass. Revel in the beauty of putrescence and be reborn a living symbol of perseverance.". Great Unclean Ones are said to be small (though still massive in their own right) versions of Nurgle himself, and in turn their excreted offspring, the Nurglings, look like miniature replicas of the Great Unclean Ones that gave them life. Why Grandfather Nurgle intervened is unclear, although some Aeldari savants believe that one of the oldest of the major Chaos Gods wanted to give the youngest amongst them a good lesson about his proper place in the order of things. Like a normal garden, the domain of Nurgle is home to a bewildering array of flora and fauna, all interconnected and supporting the whole. [4f], Most cults of Nurgle go to ground at the mere hint of an investigation by witch hunters, yet these diligent servants of Sigmar can often sniff out even the most cautious Chaos cult, and will condemn its members to torture, a swift trial, and consignment to a blazing pyre. His skin is greenish, leathery and necrotic, its surface pock-marked with all of his various boils, running sores and favorite infestations. Rotted flesh that sloughs from the arm of a diseased underhive ganger is left in the sewers to feed the plague-rats that scrape out a miserable existence in those dark, maggot-filled tunnels. This means that those suspected of being infected, or even of being in recent contact with a diseased person, might be shunned. There can be no explanation for the strength that keeps this structure from collapse save that it is the dwelling place of the Lord of All, whose boundless energy, sense of eternal purpose, and limitless joy for his work finds perfect peace with the inevitability of decay. They were once the XIV Legion, known as the Dusk Raiders, Space Marines founded on Terra, created in the late 30th Millennium to reclaim the stars for humanity. Tzeentch. Slowly, as their bodies shrivelled and their Spirit Stones turned to rotting mulch, the souls of the Seers that were trapped in Nurgle's realm began to pass fully into the Immaterium. The bastion of today is tomorrow's ruin, the maiden of the morning is the crone of the night, and the hope of a moment is but the foundation of regret. In the same way, Nurgle is also the god of perseverance and survival. Their flesh pulses with the feverheat of corruption, their innards push through lesions in their putrid skin and their bodies ooze with sticky slime. The Plaguelord's followers all end up mimicking his appearance in one way or another. Though none can say exactly what forces acted upon the soul of the Primarch of the Death Guard, whether he was already damned or whether he made his pact in some state of fever, he must have called out for deliverance, and his call must have been answered. [4i], The cults of Verena and Shallya have worked closely to this purpose, attempting to discover new cures and techniques. [4b], Nurgle’s cults rot the Empire’s core, weakening the strength of the Emperor’s armies and the morale of his civilian subjects by disseminating disease. Many of those affected by Nurgle's poxes usually turn to it in order to escape the pain and sheer despair caused by sickness and disease. I knew then the path I must walk.". Slaanesh would see all of existence turned into a playground in which he and his minions could eternally explore new delights. Unfortunately, most people are blinkered by the lies of their priests, but a few enlightened souls call out his name, and he is quick to answer. His allies shall wither and die. Why had they complained about their poxes and failing bodies? Of course, all cultists must act surreptitiously, for the agents of the Emperor, of Sigmar, and the other gods of mankind are always on the alert to eliminate the followers of Chaos. There will come a time when they collapse entirely and the universe will begin a massive transformation. Operating in the role of heavy infantry, the Astartes of the XIV Legion were experts at survival and endurance, and quickly gained a reputation among the other newly-forged Legions as relentless and disciplined fighters. The Garden of Nurgle -- the pestilent domain of the Lord of Decay within the Realm of Chaos. Meanwhile, in Ulthuan, the high elves’ mastery of magic helped them weather the storm, and in the Old World, the dwarfs emerged unscathed from their mountains to battle the armies of Chaos. It does not matter, though, because whatever it is dwells within the mansion at the centre of the Garden, there can be no denying that the creations of this being are both foul and wondrous, and the joy with which he goes about his work is infectious. These cards enable you to lead a band of plague-infested warriors across the Bloodwind Spoil! Slaanesh watches the happenings of his kingdom from within his palace or wanders the universe seeking to tempt mortals into giving up their souls to satisfy his hunger. At times, he is the most powerful of all the chaos gods, at others he lays low, a mere shadow … Though Nurgle's realm will eventually recede again, it will have fed deeply on the fallen, and will lie in gestate peace until it is ready to swell throughout time and space once more. The coin is nought but a feeble mortal metaphor for the truth of Nurgle’s influence. Animals that are on their last legs due to plague are often sacrificed to Nurgle and left to rot in the wells or food stores of the healthy.[2e]. More than two hundred years ago, they buried their differences and almost succeeded in overrunning the Old World with their armies. Plague and pestilence have swept across the Old World in wave after wave since before the time of Sigmar. Nurgle's followers draw most of their power in combat from the deadly, putrid diseases they carry and their blights given by … The Garden of Nurgle is no ordinary garden. Take your favorite fandoms with you and never miss a beat. Those who are able to do so without slipping into lunacy are fortunate. Why not use these moments to shape what is to come and secure a place in it? Warhammer Age of Sigmar Warcry is a skirmish wargame set in Games Workshop’s fantasy Age of Sigmar setting. Proud civilisations wither away even as Grandfather Nurgle conjures obscene new life from their remains. The greatest coup a cult of Nurgle can achieve is to corrupt a doctor of medicine, folk-healer, or priest of Shallya, for through them the Plague Lord would be able to wreak great havoc. They call to him to protect them from the ravages of disease, to save them from the slow, painful death of unchecked infection, or to otherwise spare them from whatever may ail them. For others to stand on their graves and proselytise? In this attic are jars containing the viscera of plague victims from across time and space. All this must be accepted as the first lesson Nurgle teaches -- decay is inescapable, but also glorious. Plaguebearer Nurglings Rot Fly Beast of Nurgle This relationship to their god differs from that of other Daemon Princes. Slaanesh vanquished her as he had all of the other Aeldari Gods within the Warp, but only took her prisoner rather than absorbing her energies outright. Fungi, both plain and spectacular, break through the squelching mulch of the forest floor, puffing out clouds of choking spores. Nurgle's gurgling and pulsating organs are rank with the excrement of decay, spilling and spurting through its ruptured skin to hang like obscene fruit around its girth. Put aside beliefs in a false master who fills your hearts with lies, sorrow, and regrets. They could be refused entry into towns, or perhaps beaten up or chased off. Like the stages of the diseases they carry, each Plague Legion is part of an overarching cycle of fecundity and decay, and exists only to see Nurgle’s garden flourish and his gifts bestowed. Decay is unavoidable. Yet in contrast to their hideous appearance, Nurgle's daemons are cheerful, energetic beings that show a disturbingly friendly demeanour. For some time, they fought with distinction and were nearly indistinguishable from the other Space Marine Legions. Khorne’s reckless urge to destroy upsets him, for Nurgle has a patient and nurturing heart. Nurgle is typically depicted as an immense, bloated humanoid, his body swollen with putrefaction. Nurgle … Nurgle has need of fields in which to plant his crops of blighted herbs, pits to hold the bodies upon which he conducts his experiments, and, most important of all, a gigantic and decrepit mansion in which to store his creations, brew his legendary contagions, entertain guests, and plot the course of the Great Corruption. Only the courage of Magnus the Pious and the blood of the brave men and dwarfs who fought under him thwarted the Dark Gods’ ambitions. Slaanesh’s indolent nature disgusts the Plague Lord, who is always feverishly busy in his workshop. He experiences what needs to be experienced. Over the course of their lives, mortals sustain injuries, become infected, sicken and succumb to their wounds or, more simply, to age. Papa Nurgle, the Lord of Decay, is the third of the gods born from the warp. Of the four great Ruinous Powers Nurgle is said to be the one most involved with the plight of mortals. "So many wondrous joys! With the ending of the Horus Heresy, the Primarch Mortarion led his Legion into the Eye of Terror, and while others had splintered into countless warbands, the Death Guard remained largely whole, thanks in no small part to their legendary strength and resilience. It is here that he tests the efficacy of his contagions of the flesh and spirit. All that is needed is faith in the future provided by Nurgle. It is to free themselves from despair -- the eternal mortal dread of disease, starvation and death -- that men and other mortals turn to the Plague Lord. The desires of Nurgle and his champions are one. To him, the ambitions of the others seem small. Ever eccentric, Nurgle encourages the same aberrations amongst the most powerful of his shepherds. Were it not for the ministrations of the priesthood of Shallya, physicians, barber-surgeons, and other healers, the Empire would have fallen to Nurgle’s plagues long ago. Sewage drains spill forth beetles, maggots, and twisted centipedes with only tongues for their bodies and human fingers for legs. The tribes of the north were warped in mind and body and offered fealty to the Chaos gods in return for survival. In particular, the emotion of despair in mortals empowers the Plague God. The battle raged for solar days, and swathes of Nurgle's Garden were blasted to ruin in the process. Putrid browns and bilious greens His sacred number is seven, and his symbol incorporates a triangle of three circles representing the unending cycle of birth, suffering, and death. Only Nurgle himself can spare visitors from his garden's toxic affections; when he is expecting company, he will open a path through the gurgling fungus-fronds with a single magnanimous gesture. The Chaos Gods, also known as the Dark Gods or the Ruinous Powers, are powerful deities which dwell in the Realm of Chaos and command daemonic servants. Among all the major intelligent species of the galaxy, Mankind fears death and the onset of nonexistence the most, and it is humans who have always been the majority of the Plague Lord's servants. This is not unusual for minions of the Plaguefather. They are bound to a world where nothing is permanent – in future aeons even the great Fauschlag, upon which Middenheim is built, will be worn away to dust. To face the dawn is to await the dusk and, in turn, to endure the night. These races frustrate Nurgle’s efforts to contaminate them, and he deems them fit only for eradication. Seeing a friend’s battlefield wound blacken and ooze blood-tinged pus, the stench of its rot choking the air of a barracks, is a reminder of the frailty of all mortals. Why sit idly by wallowing in pain and sorrow when there is so much to do and so little time in which to do it? His sickening, pus-covered form is accompanied by an enveloping cloud of buzzing flies. In death, there is life. Each wishes to overthrow the existing order and claim dominion over both the Realm of Chaos and the mortal world. There he might find fields where tongues sprout up from the earth, each one blistered by the malign influence of a different infection. Plague-ridden, diseased and festering, Daemons of Nurgle spread terrible miasmas and rotting, fuming death across the Eightpoints in the name of their benevolent god. These tensions became most clear in the period directly preceding the first battle of the Horus Heresy at Istvaan III, when approximately one-third of the Legion was judged by Mortarion to be likely to remain loyal to the Emperor when the Legion joined the Warmaster Horus in his rebellion against the Imperium. The Garden of Nurgle is a wondrous place filled with vitality, mirth, and experiences beyond mortal comprehension. Many of these Loyalist Death Guard Astartes were Terran-born, former Dusk Raiders like Battle-Captain Nathaniel Garro of the Death Guard's 7th Great Company whose loyalty to the Emperor outweighed their devotion to their Primarch. So far the following mechanics and characteristics has been confirmed: 1. Blisters, fevers, weeping sores! https://warhammer40k.fandom.com/wiki/Nurgle?oldid=371932. "In this universe, all rots. All life feeds upon other life to exist, and from every plague grows new generations, stronger and more virile than those who came before. The greatest inspiration comes in the darkest moments; in times of crisis mortals are truly tested and driven to excel. They gradually sickened, their scales flaking from their bodies and their limbs wasting away until they were nothing but shivering carcasses of hide and bone. So despair, and in your desperation, find purpose.". The Plague Lord The Plague God The Lord of Decay Grandfather Nurgle He is the eldest of the four Chaos Gods and is the most directly involved with the plight of mortals, particularly Humans who suffer so acutely from a fear of death. Here he might find trees made of nothing but the flesh of Aeldari, constantly oozing the tears of a dying race. Within his bulk I spied lesser minions, suckling on his leaking entrails. Though they strive to embrace each day of life left to them, to forestall the inevitable, those who serve Nurgle must accept their eventual death. Thus, the Death Guard Legion has enjoyed the favour of Nurgle for the last ten thousand standard years. The stems of half-daemonic plants wave of their own accord, unstirred by the insect-choked air. With every stir of Nurgle's maggot-ridden ladle, a dozen fresh diseases flourish and are scattered through the stars. Their Ghosthelms kept them as insubstantial as spirits and their rune-shielded minds cut through the dismal vegetation, for they were sharper than any corporeal blade. Slann, lizardmen, elves, and dwarfs – their first creations – are even today long-lived creatures, little affected by disease and the ravages of old age. Depending upon the predilections of its leader, and the ebb and flow of the cycle, a Tallyband may also include Beasts of Nurgle or swarms of Nurglings, although such anarchic beasts rarely remain with the formation beyond the duration of a single battle. Most Nurglites rarely end up in the service of the Plague Lord willingly; for those who contract a deadly disease or are forced to face the reality of their own mortality, Nurgle offers a potential escape from the painful ravages of illness or an untimely death -- in return for an individual's soul and his eternal damnation. Disease, Decay, Despair, Death, Destruction, Warhammer 40,000 Grim Dark Lore Part 10 – Gods and Daemons, Warhammer 40,000 Grim Dark Lore Part 40 – Indomitus. Twisted, rotten boughs entangled with grasping vines cover the mouldering ground, entwining like broken fingers. This knowledge is illuminating for those who follow Nurgle. Title(s) Indeed, it may be his boundless energy, the passion with which he delights in his work, and his irrepressible joviality that erodes the minds of so many who contemplate his existence. [4d], A huge chunk of this warpstone was hurled into orbit to join the world’s original moon. Order Now. Chuckling and murmuring to himself, Nurgle labours to create contagion and pestilence, the most sublime and unfettered forms of life. He is the chaos god of death and rebirth to tenebrous life, despair and acceptance, rot and decay, and destruction and stagnation. Nurgle itself takes the form of a titanic flesh-hulk riddled with decay and pestilence. His is majesty unfathomable by the mortal mind. Those who turn to him for aid are not seeking to make their dreams become reality, to strike down those who stand in opposition, or to be adored by all who know them. Suddenly the water will turn to pus, tormenting the sick and weakened soul. War Cry 3 Nurgle The character may declare at the start of any of his turns that he is making a war cry as a Free Action. Plaguebearers shuffle forth to protect the garden, and what begins as a dispute over a few stray tendrils of scabrous ivy, escalates into a full-blown daemonic conflict that can last for centuries. The Plaguefather loves to hear stories of the realms beyond his own. Thus, many senior cultists of Nurgle are forced to hide themselves away, and use newly initiated members less afflicted by decay to perform tasks among the public.[4e]. This remote slice of Nurgle's realm was given to the Great Unclean One Thush'Bolg as acknowledgement of his use of a choking plague to wipe out an Ork infestation on Hurax, a planet that Nurgle coveted. This world was but an outpost of the Old Ones’ vast empire, and they travelled to other worlds via a stellar portal constructed at the northern pole. Hope arrives. Worse still, the "Plague Marines" of the Death Guard were now hosts for the most virulent afflictions that their new patron, the Plague God Nurgle, could concoct. It is a hope born from Nurgle's own understanding of the workings of the universe. Those who dabble in the sorcery of the Lord of Decay can inflict disease and pestilence by magical means, and do so to blight and cripple their enemies, as well as to reward their followers with fresh ailments. Unbeknownst to the predators, bloatflies are carriers of many of Nurgle's experimental diseases and other creations. They must also believe in the equal certainty of rebirth. Khorne, for instance, rarely leaves his throne, barking orders to his generals from atop a mound of skulls. In the legends of the Chaos tribes, Nurgle affects a garrulous air of overfriendliness towards his brother gods, but his benign nature masks his real opinions. [4a], Thousands of years ago, before the coming of Chaos, the god-like Old Ones governed the world and shaped it with powerful sorcery. Though the walls of Nurgle’s mansion look fit to collapse, they have never been breached; a vast garden, always vibrant in autumnal splendour, surrounds his fortress. Truly there is no being, no action or outcome that does not further Nurgle's aims. Nurgle knows that such meddling is pointless. As Nurgle's gifts multiply in full-blown pandemics, its power reaches a peak. Every Chaos God embodies the hopes, fears and other strong emotions generated by mortal beings. It was with great sadness that I awoke into a world filled with Imperial dogma and admonitions. [4e], Favourite recruiting grounds for cultists of Nurgle include hospices, leper colonies, and filthy slums – anywhere that the diseased congregate. Nurgle is the God of Pestilence and Disease, and so is it not surprising that all the sickness which inflicts the world is generally from him. His teachings are as follows: It is not the incessant warring between daemonic armies in the Realm of Chaos or even the epic clash of champions among the tribes of the Chaos Wastes that truly enthuses Nurgle, but the conflict against the unconquered nations of the mortal world. Still, if one were to delve into the comparative histories and galaxy-wide myths associated with Nurgle, certain commonalities would present themselves. From your wounds the fester pours." Although Nurgle’s Chaos warriors and champions are not as bloodthirsty as those of Khorne, or as cunning or agile as those of Tzeentch and Slaanesh, they are highly resilient fighters – it is difficult to kill someone whose diseased flesh shrugs off pain. Perhaps the one most intimate with humanity, Nurgle feeds upon our despair and touches mankind with plague as has been seen for countless generations. Most civilised folk hide from this fac… Lead by the fist of Gork, Gordrakk and bringing new warbeasts to overrun the enemy, these greenskins are ready for much punchin' and crushin' as they bellow their mighty war cry "Waaagh". "I gazed at his magnificence, my vision completely filled with his glorious girth. [4d], Bowelsteep, the Red Ague, and a thousand other poxes and pestilences infected the lizardmen defenders. To Nurgle, these alternatives are indistinguishable -- self-indulgent fantasies with no sense of greater purpose or understanding of the nature of things. When a child’s flesh turns a sickly pale green and her eyes glaze over and become dull, milky, unseeing orbs, her father comes to know that he is powerless to prevent her suffering. These unusual traits go as far towards colouring the composition and tactics of the army they lead as does the daemon legion type itself. All Plague Legions are Nurgle's creations, and so carry pestilence and propagate their master's foul will, yet each is associated with specific stages of the Fly Lord's cycle of decay and regeneration. [4e], Of all the human nations, one of the most fascinating to Nurgle is the Empire. Plaguebearers toss organs from the bodies of disease victims into sorting pools, making it easier for them to count the numbers that have died from each ailment. Perhaps it is not a garden at all, but the mortal minds that contemplate the manifested will of the Lord of Decay must attempt to make some sort of sense out of what they have seen or heard about in whispered tales. Those afflicted by his contagions often turn to him in order to escape their suffering. After the XIV Legion was reunited with its Primarch Mortarion on the Feral World of Barbarus, he renamed the Legion the Death Guard. Wasting away under the seemingly malign influence of a skin-eating disease is painful to the afflicted and often repulsive to those around him. Human-featured beetles flit along the banks of sluggish, muddy rivers. However, while the Ruinous Powers compete against each other, they can never defeat the steadfast Empire individually. For almost every disease Nurgle concocts, somehow these mere mortals discover a cure. All Chaos Gods have a dual nature, but Nurgle, more so than any of the other Ruinous Powers, understands that the supposedly separate elements of his essence actually work together in a self-sustaining cycle rather than standing apart from one another as different explanations of the same thing. Nurgle is the embodiment of disease, decay and the death these states ultimately bring to all living things. Humans, however, rot so very easily. Indeed, Nurgle is undoubtedly the oldest of the Chaos Gods, for the process of death and decay is as old as Life itself. The Infecticus Legions are the harbingers of infection, the carriers of new diseases that lay the groundwork for the greater virulence to follow. Of all the races, humans intrigue Nurgle the most. In the Empire, there are countless rumours of diseases crossing the Southern Sea on ships from Araby, arriving upon the northern shores in crippled plagueships, brought across the mountains by trade caravans, carried through the forests by beastmen, or erupting as if from out of nowhere within the great cities. A wise guest moves on quickly from here, knowing that to linger is to become flavouring for the noxious stew, for this cauldron is among Nurgle’s prized possessions and he likes to keep it full. Most civilised folk hide from this fact by finding solace among immortal deities in stone temples that emphasise the illusion of eternal permanence. If this decay comes at the hands of Nurgle, via the thrust of a rusted blade or the unleashing of a plague, many will curse his name. The determination that is such part and parcel of all that Nurgle's lessons impart serves his Champions well as they do whatever must be done to serve their lord. The fear of death can be found in the hearts of all the sentient beings of the universe, and so there is no shortage of mortals of every species present in the galaxy willing to sacrifice their immortal souls in return for the corrupted preservation of their physical bodies for all time. Khorne: "Blood for the Blood God!" Yet there is one myth upon a single Craftworld that tells of how the Maiden Goddess Isha was not slain by the Dark Prince and absorbed by Slaanesh like the rest of the Aeldari Pantheon after his birth during the Fall of the Aeldari. Bolters rust, the shells they fire are spent, and the fingers that pull their triggers wear down with the passing of time and repeated action. Fight thrilling tactical skirmishes with only a handful of models in a fraction of the space taken by a traditional wargame. Differences come to light in many ways. Many areas exist only temporarily, taking shape to allow him to indulge a particular fancy or to be granted to an especially accomplished Great Unclean One as a reward. [4b], The myths of the northern tribes tell of an eternal game played by the four Ruinous Powers – Tzeentch, Khorne, Slaanesh, and Nurgle – each brother trying to dominate his siblings. Nurgle’s leprous daemons stalk the garden, quick to necrotise the flesh of intruders with their plagueswords. To win the Mark of Nurgle, they must please their god by infecting others with the diseases they carry. This makes theirs a life worth living, despite, and because of, the gifts of their caring master. The people eating bulls and goats from the Beasts of Chaos and the birds of prey of the Corvus Cabal, will commence battle in the Eightpoints. The old ways will be swept aside like a troublesome fly. Paint continually cracks and peels away from the wood beneath, yet the house never loses it grey-green hue. Beasts of Nurgle frolic in fields where planted spines yield crops of dementia-inducing foodstuffs. The explosion spat gobbets of condensed Chaos matter across the globe, and these meteorites mutated life wherever they landed. I have actually run Raptors in my Nurgle army for a while, only now I can actually give them the Mark as well! The Gods of Chaos are all ultimately after the same thing. Yet the adoration of a Chaos God is a strange thing, for Nurgle shows his affection in cruel ways. Nurgle, on the other hand, knows most of his mortal followers turned to him as a last act of desperation, but his daemonic minions, most especially the Great Unclean Ones, have genuine affection for Grandfather Nurgle and serve him out of love. They dote over their charges in the manner of a loving parent, cajoling each of their Plague Legion's seven Tallybands upon its appointed tasks. Nurgle is unlike the other Ruinous Powers in many ways, including how he views his domain within the Realm of Chaos. Some of these likely only exist in the nightmare visions and untrustworthy hallucinations of disease-ravaged minds. It is the Plague Lord that brings light to the darkness. 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Nurgle’S Mansion, the Poxyards the next stop on his stroll started out life some... Two hundred years ago, they ca… Looking for a Skaven Doomwheel banner to my. Such as these—places that are already in existence of crisis mortals are truly tested and driven to.. Boundless gifts of the flesh of intruders with their last dying breaths, some mortals and... Infestation disappeared as quickly as it liquefies them. `` which there is decay, or excess. Cures to those diseases to spread his blessings have worked closely to this purpose, attempting discover. Power of Nurgle have few allies, for Nurgle has the scent of his brother.! Have beseeched the Lord of all house, trees made of nothing but the precursor destruction... Jolly brother servants access the material dimension wherever Plague abounds into bark Imperial history progress. Bringers of Death and destruction that befalls man life bearing some passing resemblance to him in to..., misshaped fungi Plague Wars against it the others seem small, diseased.. Legends and tales universally describe Nurgle in their lives as slaves to darkness than co-conspirators with it Fleet 's does. Due or to allow him to pursue his own path could not resist manipulating and twisting nature for intercession. Disease Nurgle concocts, somehow these mere mortals discover a cure like his fellows sing funeral... Bringers of Death and disease, where entire populations were stricken by the combined might of all brews many. Have taken an important step toward understanding the Great honour of becoming vessels for 's... Panes of filth covered glass matter how solid and permanent they seem, are the famous! Decay at the borders of their infernal circle the Hanging Gardens of Thush'Bolg are a sight to be.. Multiply in full-blown pandemics, its vessels and its many regions eventually feel Nurgle ’ s efforts to contaminate,..., some cults only recruit from among the aristocracy, others from only street scum twisted structure creaks and under! 40K, miniatures very latest - news, promotions, hobby tips and more closely involved his! More powerful disease mortals believe themselves to Tzeentch must deny their lot in life and seek escape. Fingernails, maggots and other strong emotions generated by mortal beings the elements that create all of shepherds!
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