The deranged worshippers of the Lord of Pestilence say that he concocts diverse contagions to inflict on the material universe for his amusement, and many of the most infectious and horrible diseases are Nurgle's proudest creations. It is their belief that those who die caught in the grip of one of Nurgle's terrible poxes are swept directly to his domain, the Land of the Plaguelord. Those that sing the praises of Nurgle loud enough are sometimes spared so that they can spread his blessings further, for the church of the Fly Lord is always open to all. Nurgle has many supplicants but there are few with the fortitude to declare themselves as his Champions. The few that can survive the Great Corruptor's manifold blessings exhibit a feverish, morbid energy and a preternatural resistance to physical damage.

It is only Nurgle's fondness for rot, for the unpleasant nature of disease and decay, that prevents more from accepting his truth. It can be difficult for a mortal to accept that the rotting of a limb or the expulsion of their entrails is a blessing. Yet it is so. Even the decrepit and decaying form of the Emperor of Mankind, ensconced in His Golden Throne, sits as a testament to Nurgle's greatness -- and his truth. Each day a thousand souls give their fleshy bodies and immortal souls to this false idol in a vain attempt to preserve His rotting presence. It is a losing battle, but the ammunition spent in the conflict, the Human bodies sent to their wasted doom, does indeed serve a purpose -- Nurgle's purpose. Daemon Prince • Furies • Soul Grinder • Daemon Engine • Daemonic Herald • Chaos Spawn • Chaos Beast • Mutalith Vortex Beast • Brute • Shrike • Behemoth • Imp The Land of the Plaguelord, often better known as the Garden of Nurgle, is no ordinary garden. Perhaps it is not really a garden at all, but the mortal minds that contemplate the manifested will of the Plague Lord must attempt to make some sort of sense out of what they have seen or heard about in whispered tales. They must place it in some sort of relatable context that they can consider without going insane. The same tomes and other forbidden texts that have attempted to describe the lord of the land himself have, for the most part, agreed that the idea of Nurgle's realm being a perverse, deadly, and yet strangely beautiful garden best puts Chaos into terms they can fathom.Nurgle and his daemons, in contrast to their putrid appearance, are jovial and friendly in demeanor. His daemon servants and mortal followers usually demonstrate a disturbing joviality and joy at the pestilence that he inflicts, seeing the plagues as gifts and the cries of their victims as gratitude rather than agony. This is demonstrated on the Daemon World of Bubonicus, where an endless chain of crazed revellers circle the planet's equator in a never-ending dance. [17c] At the first - nurglings is your best friends. You want to build growth, corruption, control buildings in small settlements to speed up province development - so you probably always have nurglings in reserve. This gift, regardless of the form it takes, opens eyes even as it liquefies them. It simultaneously atrophies the leg muscles of its recipients and gives them the strength to march toward a greater purpose. It is Nurgle's great ambition to speed this universe toward its ultimate end by eroding the foundations of reality much as a disease can erode the spirits and bodies of those infected. Through his careful and ceaseless experimentations, begun within his wondrous Garden in the Realm of Chaos and then unleashed throughout the galaxy, the pillars that support the framework of existence are slowly but surely weakened. 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 their eternal damnation.

Should Nurgle continue to pile on His dubious gifts, the recipient will devolve into a mindless, hideous creature known as a Chaos Spawn. Though the Plague God may turn His champion into a spawn if they have displeased him in some way, he is just as likely to do so simply as a result of inadvertently heaping one mutation upon another. Though their forms are repulsive, these gibbering once-men are revered by the followers of Chaos, for they believe that it is better to know the briefest and most vile of existences at the behest of the Ruinous Powers than to grow old without drawing their notice. Life anywhere in the unfeeling galaxy is harsh, miserable, and full of pain and suffering. Service to an uncaring God-Emperor or an eldritch and absent cosmic deity is ultimately empty and devoid of meaning. Men live and die, and for what? For others to stand on their graves and proselytise? Where is the reward in that? For those who accept the boundless gifts of the Father of Plagues, however, everlasting hope is the ultimate reward. You start next to another Nurgle faction led by a great unclean one that also has a tusks resource - he's on good terms with Kugath and is easy to confederate. Easy exalted greater daemon for your second army, plus extra capacity for another cultist to boost army movement. Keeper of Secrets • Daemonette • Infernal Enrapturess • Seeker Chariot • Fiend • Steed • Seeker • Hate-Angel • Contorted EpitomeA fast-moving, armour-piercing, flying unit makes a powerful Nurgle piece when combined with His other units. There will come a time when they collapse entirely and the universe will begin a massive transformation. The old ways will be swept aside like a troublesome fly. All that was will cease to be, and from the rotted ruins a new and glorious reality will emerge -- one dominated by Nurgle and his beloved children. Those who walk with Nurgle and aid him in bringing about this "Great Corruption," as Nurgle calls it, do so with joy in their hearts. They know that Nurgle's victory is assured and that when all things come to an end and life begins anew, they will have helped make it so. This makes theirs a life worth living, despite, and because of, the gifts of their caring master. For a Chaos God, Nurgle's actions seem oddly harmonious -- caring even. To receive the blessings of Nurgle, all one has to do is want to live and be willing to do whatever it takes to cling to that life. All else follows naturally from there. Worshipers of Khorne must push toward ever-greater levels of destruction and carnage despite the risks to themselves or even to their allies. Those who devote themselves to Tzeentch must deny their lot in life and seek to change everything, never appreciating what they have. Followers of Slaanesh seek to escape reality in a blur of sensation and self-delusion. Yet all that is required to feel the caring touch of Nurgle is to see life for what it is and to want to make the most of it. All that is needed is faith in the future provided by Nurgle. But this coin is illusory; there is no divide between its two faces, no beginning and no end. The coin is naught but a feeble mortal metaphor for the truth of Nurgle's influence. On one "side" there is decay, death, and disease. What would be on the other side of this coin is in fact part and parcel of the first side. Hope, rebirth, resistance, and growth all arise directly from facing death and decay. The Seers of the Asuryani craftworlds and the Inquisitors of the Imperium will never share this truth with the weak-minded fools who drink in their lies like mother's milk.

No matter if they sought his gifts or if they themselves were found, the exchange is never quite what was expected. These mortals have their doubts and fears cast aside. They find that they are no longer caught in the paralysing grip of despair and misery. Their afflictions, however, linger, and are usually joined by other blights. New sores and pustules appear, the foul liquids they contain becoming home to small worms and maggots. Bellies swell and distend, the flesh straining to contain bleeding entrails that push the abdomen outward. Old wounds rip open again spontaneously and invite fresh infections. Whatever diseases or weakness these mortals once sought to leave behind take up permanent residence within their bodies and minds. The Death Guard are a Traitor Legion entirely steeped in the power of Nurgle, the god of plagues, their very essence the epitome of all that vile Chaos God stands for. Their bodies are hives of filth and decay, their flesh eternally rotting away even as it is renewed by the ceaseless process of death and rebirth. Great Unclean One • Poxbringer • Spoilpox Scrivener • Sloppity Bilepiper • Battle Fly • Beast of Nurgle • Nurgling • Plaguebearer • Rot Fly • Bloat-Fly • Clawbril • Hooktor • Molluscoid • Blight Drone • Plague Hulk • Plague Drone • Plague Toad • Pox Rider • Foetid Bloat-Drone • Feculent Gnarlmaw • Glitchling • Plague Fly Daemon Prince • Greater Daemon • Lesser Daemon • Daemonic Beasts • Daemon Engines • Daemonic Herald • Chaos Daemon Armoury • Daemon Weapons • Daemonic GiftsDespite his horrific appearance, Nurgle is a warm, welcoming god who prides himself on the achievements of his followers, gifting them with his most hideous diseases even as he protects them from all pain and the cold sleep of death. 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. Beeline straight for the personal line so you can get his lovely Mortis Engine effect. You can skip the Armor and the Leadership (he won't break, he's a chad like that) To this day, Mortarion's Death Guard launch their assaults through the Cadian Gate and into the galaxy beyond, sometimes in large bodies and at others lending strength to allied forces. Wherever they travel they spread the joyful, exuberant poxes of Nurgle, gifting those who would know eternal life with the choicest of the Plague God's blessings. Nurglings may deploy far out from the main force with Vanguard Deployment, because they’re good little lads. Just absolute champs. Few who pledge themselves to Nurgle do so in the belief that he offers an easy path to power and glory. He does not promise increased influence, brutal strength, or hedonistic excess like his fellow gods. 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.