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Black Crusade is a role-playing game published by Fantasy Flight Games, the fourth in their series of Warhammer 40,000 RPGs. In a departure from the prior games, player characters in Black Crusade are not servants of the Imperium, but rather traitors that devote themselves to Chaos. As such, there is much content throughout the game's rulebooks that is relevant to Nurgle.
"Indeed the very process of construction and creation foreshadows destruction and decay. The palace 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 stone of everlasting regret."
— The Lost and the Damned
One of the four great Chaos powers is Nurgle. He is most commonly called the Lord of Decay but he is known many names; the Fly Lord, the Great Corruptor, the Master of Pestilence. The power of Nurgle is embodied in entropy, morbidity, disease and physical corruption. Of the four great powers Nurgle is said to be the one most involved with the plight of mortals. Through the gifts of raging fevers and shaking chills Nurgle's hand is upon them from cradle to grave.
Few escape the touch of Nurgle in their lives. He is sometimes called the Lord of All because all things, no matter how strong and secure, fall to physical corruption in the end.
Every Chaos power embodies the hopes, fears and other strong emotions generated by mortal beings. In the case of Nurgle, their fear of death and disease is the source of his greatest power. The mortal's unconscious response to that fear - the desperation to cling to life no matter what the cost - gives Nurgle an opening into their souls. The whispered prayer of a parent over a fever-struck child, the anguished pleas of the dying man for one more day of life; these are meat and drink to Nurgle.
Nurgle is typically depicted as an immense, bloated humanoid, his body swollen with putrefaction. His skin is shown as leathery and necrotic, his surface pocked with running sores, swelling buboes and oozing wounds. Internal organs bulging with decay spill through splits in the ruptured skin to hang like bunches of scrofulous grapes around his vast girth. Nurgle is often illustrated with hordes of tiny daemons bursting forth from its pustules and suckling upon foulness.
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 realm.
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 Great Corruptor's manifold blessings exhibit a feverish, morbid energy and a preternatural resistance to physical damage.
The power of Nurgle waxes and wanes as his pandemics sweep across the galaxy. When untold billions fall prey to the newest plagues his strength can overshadow that of any of the other Chaos powers for a period. At other times the power of Nurgle withers away to lie quiescent until circumstances are ripe for it to erupt forth once more.
Those that fashion themselves Champions of Nurgle represent a dire threat to densely populated worlds, where close-packed populations are vulnerable to a single contagion. Ships in the void are particularly vulnerable to disease and many dying crews have beseeched the Lord of Decay for his intercession. Such was the fate of the Death Guard Legion when it became marooned in the warp on the long journey to Earth during the Horus Heresy.
While they lay becalmed in the Immaterium, a mysterious contagion spread from one to another of the Death Guard's ships until the entire fleet was infected. Even the reinforced physiology of the Space Marines could not fight off the dire plague as it bloated the guts, distended the flesh and rotted its victims from the inside. It's said that when even the Legion's Primarch, Mortarion, fell victim to the plague he cried out to the Powers of Chaos in his delirium. His desperation to save himself and his Legion called forth Nurgle, and Mortarion became his Champion. Thus, the Death Guard Legion has enjoyed the favour of Nurgle for the last ten thousand years.
The daemons of Nurgle are truly putrid in their appearance and sickening to look upon. Their flesh pulses with the fever-heat of corruption, their innards push through lesions in their putrid skin and their bodies ooze with sticky slime. In contrast to their hideous appearance, Nurgle's daemons are cheerful, energetic beings that show a disturbingly friendly demeanour. They are jovial in their work and show great pride in their accomplishments, interpreting the groans of the afflicted as expressions of gratitude justly won by their efforts.
The most powerful daemons of Nurgle are called Great Unclean Ones. Great Unclean Ones are facsimiles of the god himself both physically and in spirit. Every Great Unclean One is also Nurgle himself in some sense, and their followers often refer to them as "Papa" or "Father Nurgle". Great Unclean Ones are seldom deathlike or morbid in character; in fact, they are usually motivated by the same trivial enthusiasms that drive the living. They are gregarious and even sentimental in their nature with a remarkable fondness for their followers. They often refer to their followers as their "Children" and take great pride in their appearance and oddly endearing behaviour.
The common daemons of Nurgle are known as Plaguebearers. These have a more approximately humanoid shape and lurch along on stick-thin limbs. Plaguebearers have single eye and a single horn, and chant in continuous monotone. They are also called the "Tallymen of Nurgle", as it is said that they constantly strive to enumerate the endlessly changing number of plagues and poxes in the universe. Despite their decrepit appearance Plaguebearers are extremely dangerous in battle. A single scratch from their rusted swords is sufficient to bestow a plague that sends its host to Nurgle's realm without delay.
The lowliest servants of Nurgle are the Nurglings, tiny daemons that look like miniature representations of Nurgle himself. They are mischievous, agile and constantly active slinking in the shadows of his champions or gathering in squealing hordes around Great Unclean Ones. Swarms of Nurglings overwhelm their enemies through sheer weight in numbers, using their scrabbling, diseased claws to pull down larger opponents so that they can gnaw at them with filth-caked fangs.
Nurgle is the age-old enemy of the Chaos Power Tzeentch, the Lord of Change. Their energies come from diametrically opposing beliefs: Tzeentch's power derives from hope and changing fortune while Nurgle's comes from defiance born out of despair and hopelessness. The followers of Nurgle often pit themselves against those of Tzeentch in complex political intrigues in the mortal realm, forever attempting to mire his schemes for change in dull minded conservatism and parochial self-interest. Their corrupting influence is often successful in thwarting the Architect of Fate and they erode at his accomplishments constantly, safe in the knowledge that whatever survives the collapse into entropy becomes their inheritance.
DLinschoten 6.567.544.M41
I, Magir Linschoten, am recently arrived to the port moon of Aog, to fill the post of chief chirurgeon in the port's largest mercy-house, the Alburae.DLinschoten 6.580.544.M41
On Aog, while the priestly classes deal with matters spiritual, the Qaidyas look to the ailments of the body. The Qaidyas, of course, practice Eyuridea and as with Eyuridic physicians elsewhere they had reached their heyday centuries before my arrival. Inbreeding, blind and unquestioning obedience to ancient texts and a failure to innovate have gradually diminished their capabilities. They are still held in great regard for all that, and many local customs honour them. Not least of these is their entitlement to wear a special broad-brimmed hat hung with chimes that is forbidden to all others. I have determined to win myself a Qaidya's hat to prove my ability to the natives.DLinschoten 6.583.544.M41
The sicknesses and diseases of Aog that are most common come with the change of the seasons and the weather. There is a sickness called mordexijn that steals upon the men it weakens, making them cast out all that is inside their bodies and oft times their lives as well. The bloody flux is very common and as dangerous as the plague. They have many continual fevers that are burning agues that consume men such that within four or five days they are whole or dead. This sickness is very common and dangerous, but the natives do cure it with herbs and ointments. I have petitioned the elder Qaidya to teach me this recipe, but the Qaidites are as jealous of their recipes as they are of their newborn sons.DLinschoten 6.600.544.M41
The Alburae is filled to bursting point. They lie in the corridors and between the bunks in the ward. The street outside is filled with those too poor to gain admittance. A hot fever-wind has blown from the hills for weeks without surcease. Men fall in the streets and are dead before they can crawl to their homes. The sweet scent of putrefaction hangs over everything, a thick and evil cloud that saps the will and dulls the mind. While the Qaidyas send up prayers with their drums, I have tried every method of treatment known to me; I have dispensed every medicine and tincture I have mixed since my days of apprenticeship. All of it avails me naught. Day by day the corpse-piles grow higher.DLinschoten 6.611.544.M41
Uzao, the master of Qaidyas came to the Alburae this morn. He is a wizened old creature with a hat so broad that his attendants bore its chiming brim aloft on poles. He laughed aloud at our efforts and told me the Lord of Flies would show mercy only when his tally was fully made. In desperation I beseeched him for his aid and a clear understanding of the all-destroying ague no matter the cost. I feel my humility and my heartfelt plea must have moved him for he has promised to conduct me to his ceremonies and show to me his secret power.DLinschoten 6.615.544.M41
A miracle! The terrible plague is broken, ebbing away as if it were the Great Lake at low tide. Men on the brink of death awaken as if from a fevered dream, stand and walk from the Alburae showing no hint of sickness. Uzao's wisdom astounds me, his view of the body not in anatomical terms but in aetheric ones revealing the folly of my prior thinking. A man must be treated whole, in body and spirit both, to pave the way for his survival. The unction that Uzao has taught me, a simple blessing of his primitive gods, wields greater curative powers than anything I have witnessed previously. I have sworn not to speak of the sights I saw so I restrain myself only to this - I have come to an apotheosis of mind and spirit.I have found records that Dr. Linschoten travelled widely on Aog before his eventual death. In his travels he spread rots and agues without number through the pricking of patients with infected instruments and the dispensing of contaminated potions. His notions of treatment through exposure exceeded sanity to the point where he cultivated the diseases of those in his charge as a farmer tends his crops, more solicitous of the distempers themselves than the mortal flesh that bore them.
— Interrogator Jorgan Malpire, during his investigations of the Aog Port-Moon
The Death Guard followed Horus into heresy, their sense of loyalty to their Warmaster and their Primarch, Mortarion triumphing over their duty to the Emperor on distant Terra. The rebel Death Guard Legion was marooned in the warp during the long journey to Earth to join the attack on the Imperial Palace. A mysterious, unstoppable contagion spread through the trapped fleet, putrefying all it touched. Mortarion himself became infected and in his delirium he called upon the Powers of Chaos to aid his Space Marines. Mortarion's fevered ravings were answered by Nurgle, and Mortarion became Nurgle's Champion.
The Death Guard survived but they continue to bear the marks of Nurgle's first blessings upon them. Their once-white armour became stained and cracked where the bubbling foulness of their mortal bodies has erupted to the surface. They bear the three-lobed mark of Nurgle rendered as flies or rotting heads upon banners and shoulder guards. Their bolt guns and chainswords are caked with filth and rust but are no less deadly. Plague and contagion have become the Death Guard's primary weapons and they can be found anywhere in the galaxy spreading Nurgle's blessings.
Sorcerers within the Screaming Vortex show their devotions to the Ruinous Powers in a variety of different ways. Some travel beyond its boundaries to aggressively recruit new followers to the ways of Chaos, thus granting their cruel sponsors more followers. Others choose a path of devotion to a particular deity, embracing everything that lord offers. Yet others devote every moment of their time to uncovering lost secrets and discovering new information. For these Heretics, the source of the lore is far less important than the knowledge and the power it represents.
Plague Priest of Mire: These Heretics are dedicated to spreading the influence of their dark sponsors through the gift of his pestilence, making their home on the pestilential world of Mire deep within the Vortex. Through their link to the Immaterium, these potent psykers invoke the glories of the Lord of Decay upon their unwitting opponents. As the Dark God's diseases take hold, the Plague Priest's foes often become the latest additions to his army. As these new followers embrace the ways of Chaos, the Sorcerer's potency grows with additional blessings from his dark sponsor.
Sorcerer King: In some cases, a Sorcerer seeks to hold worldly power in conjunction with his stores of arcane knowledge and ability. For these Heretics, an army of followers offer more direct solutions to obtain hidden knowledge - and protection from others who might seek to take the treasures that they have acquired. Sorcerers who follow this path often maintain a holding within the Screaming Vortex, where they can store their arcane resources and mentor their disciples. These rulers may then venture forth from their holdings to retrieve artefacts and components for their rituals that they undertake in the names of the Ruinous Powers.
Heretics with the Mark of Nurgle are marked by the Plague Father, either as a physical mark corroded into their corrupted flesh or a more secretive but no less permanent mark upon one's soul. The sigil constantly weeps pus like a viciously festering wound, though this causes them no Wound Damage. These characters are compelled to constantly spread Nurgle's Rot throughout the galaxy.
Benefits: The character gains the Stuff of Nightmares and Unnatural Toughness (+1) Traits. In addition to these Talents, the Mark may grant further bonuses as determined by the GM and may be a prerequisite when performing rituals and interacting with various beings of the warp.
"Only in the corruption of decay can we return to the purity from which life sprang."
— Oath of the Malignant Order
Those who choose to follow Nurgle's path are dedicated to the spread of disease and corruption throughout the galaxy. Wherever they travel, the masses die in agony as their bodies are overwhelmed by disease. There are no lasting cures for the contagions they spread through their Dark God's blessings. Rather, those who manage to resist seem to merely increase their suffering with each passing moment as they delay the inevitable. Further, their corruption affects not just the body, but the mind and soul as well.
Those who espouse Nurgle embrace the power of disease and decay, knowing that eventually every living thing in the universe must fall prey to these inescapable forces. Some do this through the nihilistic desire for rot and entropy, the belief that everything, even the universe itself, eventually dies and disintegrates. Others, however, worship Nurgle through their desire to endure and survive. For, as paradoxical as it might seem, Nurgle encompasses life as well as death and survival as well as decay. Rot and corrosion result in new life, virulent plagues, bacteria, and fungi feeding on the corpses of the dead, growing stronger on entropy. Thus, in a certain way, Nurgle represents the cycle of life and death, and his devotees are often blessed with supernatural endurance. Though they may suffer every ravage and symptom of Nurgle's plagues, they survive them with their dark master's blessing.
Heretics who follow this path may also be unusually patient, a patience possessed by their unique perspective. Their continued survival means they often feel they can simply outlast problems, surviving while those who oppose them die. Even if they have no desire to wait that long, a devotee to Nurgle is often methodical and precise, potentially verging on ponderous. Many of Nurgle's followers also possess a deeply morbid humour, mirth borne from the knowledge that no matter how much they suffer, they shall endure.
Those warbands dedicated to Nurgle often rely on the gifts of their deity to destroy targets - disease, rot, and decay. Potent viral weaponry, corrosive gasses, and necrotic weapons are all favoured by Nurgle, and such devices make him especially feared by his foes. Weakening their foes is sound tactically, as it allows devotees of Nurgle to survive and conserve their own strength, and the act of weakening and poisoning is thought to please their master. In this manner, Nurgle may conservatively preserve his own forces just as he exhausts those of his prey.
At the same time, some who are infected by Nurgle's diseases embrace the corruption rather than falling prey to it. As they begin to come to grips with their mortality, they reach out for any hope of survival. Nurgle listens for those who beg for survival, and may choose to grant his blessings upon some of those who have been infected.
Many who follow the Lord of Decay have been granted blessings that make them far more resistant to his diseases. In some cases, these blessings are immediately obvious. For these Heretics, their bodies are trapped in a state of perpetual decay. Their equipment, though it remains effective for them, might also have the appearance of extensive decrepitude. This can make concealing their presence far more challenging. However, not all of Nurgle's followers show these effects on the outside of their bodies, even if they are a festering hive of corruption within. Their inconspicuous appearance may make them doubly effective at spreading Nurgle's gifts.
This state of decay often provides some resistance to other forms of physical damage. Those who have been granted extensive blessings of Nurgle may exist in a veritable state of near death, with bodies composed as much of gangrenous tissue as living.
Not all Heretics are equally well suited to follow the path of the Lord of Decay. As his followers often bear distinctive signs of his handiwork, they are virtually incapable of intermingling with Imperial society. Between the stench of disease and their malformations, they may be easily detected. Characters that intend to follow a path of social manipulation may be better served by following another of the Dark Gods.
During the latter stages of character creation, and throughout their career progression, Heretics connected to Nurgle need to choose Talents and Traits that are specifically focused upon survival, resisting death, and spreading disease. As the number and potency of these abilities increase, the character may draw the full attention of the Lord of Decay. Those who manage to achieve his notice are granted the Mark of Nurgle. This mark permeates their very being with the most virulent of plagues and the ability to spread them.
Talents that are tied to the Lord of Decay are indicated by the fact that they have the keyword "Nurgle". These include Hardy, Sound Constitution, Resistance, and others which are specifically tied to healing and enhanced physical toughness.
Most commonly created using radioactive or biological waste, a Blight Grenade is a crude but deadly grenade which can poison an area and everything within it. These weapons are particularly popular amongst the followers of Nurgle, who delight in the use of poisons and contamination.
These weapons ignore armour unless it is environmentally sealed. When used the cloud of noxious fumes and poisons remains in effect for 1d10 Rounds. Anyone entering the blast area takes 1d10 Energy damage with the Toxic Quality. Again, this damage ignores armour unless environmentally sealed.
A common weapon of the feral tribes on The Writhing World, each dull grey bone maul is covered with runic etchings from the world's biomancers and stains of ancient flesh and blood. Each is also much heavier and stronger than any normal bone. With each bloody impact the maul becomes cleaner and brighter than when the battle began, until its foe is dead and it appears as gleaming ivory. After the battle it slowly tarnishes again, until it returns to its original dull grey. This is a two-handed melee weapon.
Each of these corroded iron blades is coated with rust and numerous diseases, the better to spread Father Nurgle's blessing across the galaxy. Only those pure in his sight such as his Plague Marines are granted such a weapon, and any lesser being suffering even the slightest wound is gifted with one of his innumerable creations such as Nurgle's Rot or the Weeping Pox. The Toxic Quality on this weapon inflicts 1d5 Toughness Damage in addition to 1d10 damage. This is a one-handed melee weapon.
Scab is a favourite drug for those who follow the Lord of Plagues. Each dose of the thick purplish liquid worms into the user's body with the sickening sensation that the gelatinous mess is somehow alive. For one hour the skin turns a sickly greyish-green and crusts over. Though the user looks deathly ill, the drug actually gives him +1 Toughness bonus for the hour. Multiple doses do not stack, and every use past the first in a 24 hour period inflicts 1d10+10 Agility Damage as the user is wracked by crippling pain.
The following are attributes for Nurgle Daemon Weapons.
During the process of this weapon's creation, it was heated in a furnace fuelled by the flesh of lepers and quenched in the bile of those who have died from plagues, forever making it a tool of the Plague God and sealing the daemon deeply within it. The daemon's vile nature, emanating through disease-forged metals, causes nausea and distress in those it strikes.
Effects: A weapon with this Quality causes a creature it wounds to lose one of their half actions next turn, as nausea and dizziness overwhelms the creature's concentration. Certain creatures, such as those with the From Beyond, Daemonic, or Machine Trait, are immune.
The weapon is corroded and discoloured, tainted irrevocably by the daemon within. With every blow, a foe's body becomes increasingly palsied and disoriented, unable to act to the fullest of their ability.
Effects: A weapon with this attribute deals 1d10 Agility Damage with every wounding hit. This is a disease effect.
A vile mucus clings to this weapon, and bloated, mutant flies seem perpetually to buzz around it, yet no other living thing seems able to tolerate its presence, with plants and small animals nearby sickening and dying from mere proximity.
Effects: Any mundane plant, and any animal with a size of Puny or smaller and a TB of 2 or less, will sicken and die if it remains within a number of metres equal to the daemon's Willpower Bonus for more than one round. All other creatures suffer a -10 penalty on all Toughness Tests within that distance.
The weapon's jaundiced appearance, and the way it writhes as if in pain, suggest it bears a vile malaise. The daemon within saps the strength of those it wounds, leaving them sluggish and feeble.
Effects: A weapon with this attribute deals 1d10 Strength Damage with every wounding hit. This is a disease effect.
The weapon exudes an aura that promises disease and decay to all nearby, which manifests as a noxious vapour, filled with buzzing of verminous insects and echoing with the death-rattle of the diseased. Only the greatest of daemons could create such a foul aura, which makes every wound a potentially lethal one.
Effects: A weapon with this attribute produces an aura of decay that leaves a rancid film within open wounds, causing greater pain as the slightest scratch can become infected. This aura extends around the weapon, when drawn, a number of metres equal to the daemon's Willpower Bonus. Within this range, all attacks that deal Explosive or Rending Damage gain the Toxic (1) and Felling (1) qualities, as does this weapon, regardless of the type of Damage it deals.
The weapon is cursed with a foul smell that drives others to distraction. Few creatures can bear to stand near the rancid stench of rot and corruption.
Effects: All creatures within an area with a radius of the daemon's Willpower Bonus in metres, except those Devoted to Nurgle, suffer a -10 penalty on all Weapon Skill, Ballistic Skill, Agility, Intelligence and Perception Tests due to feelings of nausea and revulsion.
Sealed within this weapon by runes of entropy and decay and bound by litanies of contagion written upon human skin and sealed with wax of human fat is one of Grandfather Nurgle's creations, a plague in the form of a daemon that chuckles to itself as it spreads from victim to victim.
Effects: A weapon with this attribute contains a virulent disease that spreads to anything it wounds. The weapon gains the Toxic (3) Quality, which deals 2d10 Toughness Damage upon a failed Toughness Test and makes the target contagious for the next seven rounds. Any who touch his flesh or bodily fluids within that time must pass a Challenging (+0) Toughness Test or also suffer 2d10 Toughness Damage and become contagious for the next seven rounds, as described above.
The weapon, bloated and distended by the daemon's presence, drips with black bile and diseased blood. Upon depressing a bony stud near the weapon's grip, it expels a spray of vile, polluted fluids towards the enemy, coating them in rancid, corrosive filth.
Effects: A weapon with this attribute gains an additional form of attack, which may be used instead of the weapon's normal attack - the weapon may not be used to attack using both the Stream of Corruption and its normal method in the same turn. It is considered to be a Basic Weapon with a range of 30m, and deals 2d10 plus the daemon's Willpower Bonus in Impact Damage, with the Felling (2), Spray, Stream, Toxic (3) and Warp Weapon qualities.
There is only one daemonic chainsword described in this book, and so this image (on the same page as the description) must surely be of An'garrach. But note that there is a rather more Khornate rune on the blade.
A weapon perhaps more infested than possessed, An'garrach has a long history and has changed hands more times than anyone cares to recollect. A Legion chainsword containing the bound essence of one or more Nurglings, An'garrach exists to spread illness, and is too stupid a creature to realise the indignity of its situation. More enthusiastic than most daemon weapons, it revs its motor and drools pus-filled oil with annoying regularity, perhaps explaining its frequent change of ownership.
An'garrach is a Legion Chainsword with a Willpower of 28, a Binding Strength of 3, and the Degeneration attribute, inflicting 1d10 Agility Damage with every wounding hit.
The powers of the Grandfather of Pestilence are insidious, repulsive and debilitating. Sorcerers of Nurgle leave mewling, diseased corpses and desecrated earth in their wake, their powers spreading hellish, warp-spawned diseases.
These seven powers are linked to Nurgle, and selecting them takes a Sorcerer further down the path of Nurgle worship. All Toughness Tests made to resist an Opposed Focus Power Test for a Nurgle power are considered to be tests to resist a poison or disease, and consequently any Talents, Traits, or special abilities that grant bonuses to resist poisons or diseases grant their usual bonus.
Alternate Names: Litany of Pestilence, Delirious Chant
Value: 100xp
Prerequisites: Aligned Nurgle
Action: Full Action
Focus Power: Difficult Opposed (-10) Willpower Test
Range: 30 metres
Sustained: No
Subtype: Attack, Concentration
Description: As enacted by Nurgle's daemonic legions, the Sorcerer's throat rattles with the names of every disease he has ever suffered from, and every disease that Nurgle has ever gifted mortals with. Those caught within earshot of this pestilential incantation find themselves wracked with spasms of pain and delirium, as the Sorcerer speaks the true names of different diseases, invoking plagues both ancient and yet to occur.
Creatures caught within range of this power may oppose the Focus Power Test with a Toughness Test, suffering an additional -10 penalty if they have the Heightened Senses (Hearing) Talent. Any creature that fails to resist this power takes 1d10 + Psy Rating Damage and is stunned until the start of its next turn.
Alternate Names: Effluent Form, Vigour Mortis
Value: 200xp
Prerequisites: Aligned Nurgle, Toughness 40+
Action: Half Action
Focus Power: Hard (-20) Willpower Test
Range: Self
Sustained: Free Action
Subtype: Concentration
Description: The Sorcerer's flesh twists and changes to resemble the blessed effluents of the Plague God, becoming crusted with filth and foulness such that the blows of the enemy do not cut so deep. Gifted with such a pestilential form, the Sorcerer can shrug off injuries that would fell a lesser man.
While this power is in effect, the Sorcerer gains the Unnatural Toughness Trait with a rating equal to the sorcerer's Psy Rating. However, so encumbered by filth is the Sorcerer that he suffers a -10 penalty to his Agility characteristic.
Alternate Names: Dessicant Word, Thousandth Necrotic Invocation, The Final Curse
Value: 400xp
Prerequisites: Mark of Nurgle, Psy Rating 5
Action: Half Action
Focus Power: Challenging (+0) Willpower Test
Range: 5 metres x Psy Rating
Sustained: None
Subtype: Attack, Concentration
Description: Whispering an incantation taught to him by a Plaguebearer, the Sorcerer focuses a stream of decay into one of his victim's body parts. At this foul command, the victim's flesh and bone wither away in a display of glorious atrophy, leaving shrivelled ruin in the spell's wake. Some sorcerers know this as the Thousandth Necrotic Invocation, one in a long list of vile syllables beloved of the Grandfather of Pestilence and capable of inflicting terrible afflictions upon their victims.
This power is a Psychic Bolt that causes the target to suffer a single Rending Critical Effect equal to 1d10. Leper's Curse does not do Damage to Wounds, but can cause limb loss, blood loss, or even death, depending on the Critical Effect.An opponent can only be targeted by the Leper's Curse once per combat.
Alternate Names: The Destroyer Hive, Heart of Contagion, Pandemic's Herald
Value: 400xp
Prerequisites: Corruption 30+, Aligned Nurgle
Action: Half Action
Focus Power: Challenging (+0) Corruption Test
Range: 5 metres x Psy Rating radius
Sustained: Half Action
Subtype: Attack, Concentration
Description: The grandest and most infamous of Nurgle's contagions, Nurgle's Rot is known by many names and has appeared on countless worlds, leaving entire populations desolated by this terrible daemonic pathogen. Nurgle's devoted sorcerers take on all manner of diseases, serving as host to the creations of the Lord of Plagues. From this seething mass of decay and entropy, these devotees of pestilence summon forth the psychic echo of this paragon of plagues, inflicting it upon those nearby.
The infectious gift of Nurgle is cast outward to embrace all who stray too near to the Sorcerer. Creatures within range of the Sorcerer while this power remains in effect suffer 1d10 + Psy Rating Damage, with the Tainted and Toxic (4) qualities. The damage ignores Armour unless it is environmentally sealed. Those Devoted to Nurgle are unaffected by this power.
Psychic Phenomena: While this power remains in effect, the air within the power's range is filled with a thick, acrid fog and swarms of massive bloated flies. Any creature within range that is not devoted to Nurgle suffers a -5 penalty to Weapon Skill, Ballistic Skill, Intelligence, Perception and Fellowship Tests as the foul vapour and buzzing flies hinder their concentration and drive them to distraction. This is in addition to any normal Psychic Phenomena.
Alternate Names: Pestilent Earth, The Plaguefather's Quagmire
Value: 300xp
Prerequisites: Aligned Nurgle
Action: Full Action
Focus Power: Hard (-20) Willpower Test
Range: 5 metres x Psy Rating radius
Sustained: Free Action
Subtype: Concentration
Description: While touching the ground beneath his feet, the Sorcerer conjures forth a wave of pestilence and decay, turning hardened soil into a morass of greenish-grey sludge. Many sorcerers invoke litanies of infertility or speak prayers of desecration, while others trace abhorrent runes in the dirt or pour jars of diseased blood onto the ground. Many sorcerers believe that this power was granted to mortals by one of the most renowned of Nurgle's daemons.
While this power remains in effect, the ground around the Sorcerer, which moves as he does (centred on him at all times), becomes swamp-like. Any creature - with the exception of the Sorcerer himself - within the power's radius must pass a Challenging (+0) Agility Test or fall whenever attempting to move faster than a normal Half Action movement rate.
Alternate Names: Epidemic Touch, Hand of Filth
Value: 200xp
Prerequisites: Mark of Nurgle
Action: Half Action
Focus Power: Very Hard (-30) Willpower Test
Range: Self
Sustained: Yes
Subtype: Concentration
Description: The Sorcerer reaches out with arms dripping in foulness, to corrupt anything he touches. A single touch spreads stinking pus and other vile fluids, defiling anything they are left upon.
The sorcerer's unarmed melee attacks deal 1d10+Psy Rating I Damage and gain the Toxic (3) Quality, and he counts as having the Deadly Natural Weapons Trait. The Sorcerer's Strength Bonus is not added to the Damage.
Alternate Names: Torrent of Decay, the Grandfather's Gift
Value: 300xp
Prerequisites: Aligned Nurgle
Action: Half Action
Focus Power: Challenging (+0) Willpower Test
Range: 20m x Psy Rating
Sustained: Half Action
Subtype: Attack, Concentration
Description: At the Sorcerer's command, the skies fill with brooding, discoloured clouds that split open and pour filth and rotten blood down upon the Sorcerer's foes. Few can do little more than flee from this downpour of vileness. The most devout of Nurgle's sorcerers speak of this power as being a gift from Grandfather Nurgle, bestowed upon the world from the Plague Lord's domain.
This power is a Psychic Blast with a radius of 1+ the Degrees of Success on the Focus Power Test. Anyone caught within the area of effect suffers 1d10+7 I Damage with a Pen equal to Psy Rating and the Toxic (3) Quality, and must take a Pinning Test.
Any Compact drawn up to corrupt the pure, spread disease, or destroy something beautiful and beloved will greatly please Papa Nurgle. All who take part in executing a Compact dedicated to The Lord of Plagues enjoy a temporary +5 to their Toughness for the duration of the Compact.
Roll | Disorder |
---|---|
0-20 | Entropy: This character's mere presence seems to cause the breakdown of anything within his possession. Weapons jam, vox systems malfunction, and vehicles become unreliable. Any items such as weapons, armour, gear, clothing, ammunition, vehicles, or anything else that has a Craftsmanship Rating has its rating reduced by one step while in the character's possession. |
21-40 | Self-Mortification: The character is constantly cutting, flagellating, scarring, and branding himself for no other reason than it seems the thing to do. He suffers a -10 penalty to all Interaction tests die to his mutilated appearance. |
41-60 | Garrulous: This character's entire life is an open book, he has no secrets and is eager and willing to share even his darkest dreams and desires with anyone who will listen. It is also nearly impossible for him to keep a secret and is not to be trusted with sensitive information, although he may claim otherwise. Whenever he is called upon to withhold information, the character needs to succeed on a Hard (-10) Willpower Test or give up the information. |
61-80 | Slovenly: The character despises art, grace, and finery. He is uncouth, filthy and unwashed, casually destructive, and generally unpleasant to be around. He goes out of his way to despoil beauty, despises art and music, and is generally proud in his shabbiness. This character suffers a -10 penalty to any Interaction Tests when dealing with high society, strict military hierarchies, or anyone considered refined or an aesthete. |
81-100 | A Touch of Plague: This character's body is consumed by some chronic disease. While it is not contagious, it slowly consumes the character from the inside. Thanks to his illness, this character sees his Toughness reduced by 5. |
Killing a powerful foe (at least as dangerous as the PC) with poison, disease, or Nurgle psychic powers earns 1 Corruption Point.
Slaying a Champion that has embraced Tzeentch earns the character 1d5 Corruption Points and 2 Infamy.
Wiping out or infecting large populations with disease or contagions earns the character between 1 and 3 Infamy depending on the depths of the deception (GM's discretion).
Unlike his brother the Blood God, Grandfather Nurgle is ever-willing to answer the pleas of the weak and the dispossessed. To the Plague God, such pathetic mewling is a joyful chorus and it is his greatest pleasure to grant eternal life to those on the verge of death. Even greater is the jest that in accepting his gift, they damn themselves for an eternity and become the means by which countless more contract Nurgle's glorious plagues.
The character's frame swells and distorts until he comes to resemble the massive form of Papa Nurgle himself. His innards bloat and swell, his skin sloughs off, and pus weeps from open sores, yet he is blessed with a vigour and strength entirely at odds with his appearance.
The character gains an additional +5 Wounds, but may not make a Run Action. He also gains the Size (Enormous) Trait.
Nurgle's tallymen know the name of every disease ever to beset the mortal realm and they know the true name of the character too. The name is revealed to the recipient and bestowed upon him, granting him equal status to the denizens of Father Nurgle's bountiful Garden of Decay.
The character gains +1d5 Infamy. However, if the name is ever discovered by a foe, the foe gains the use of an additional Infamy Point (or Fate Point) when battling this character. The most powerful servants of Chaos gain countless names, and so this gift may be taken multiple times.
The character is gifted with one of the most cherished blessings a servant of the Ruinous Powers can ever receive - a Daemon Weapon, imbued with the essence of a daemon of Chaos.
The character may generate a Daemon Weapon, bound with the essence of a Plaguebearer, as described on page 194 in the Armoury Chapter.
The character is blessed with the most disgusting visage possible - that of Father Nurgle himself. His flesh becomes swollen and great lumps of it slough off entirely, revealing putrescent corruption beneath. Despite his loathsome, deathly countenance, the character's eyes twinkle with Nurgle's mischievous humour and darkling beneficence, and tiny Nurglings prance and caper in the putrid phlegm drooling from his ever-grinning maw.
The character gains the Fear 2 (Frightening) Trait (or increases his Fear Rating by +1 to a maximum of 4 if he already has it) plus the Peer (Mortal Followers of Nurgle) Talent.
The character is branded as a servant of Grandfather Nurgle and a place in the eternal cavalcade through the Gardens of the Plaguefather is reserved for him.
The character gains the Stuff of Nightmares and Unnatural Toughness (+1) Traits. In addition to these Talents, the Mark may grant further bonuses as determined by the GM and may be a prerequisite when performing rituals and interacting with various beings of the warp.
Nurgle's Rot is the most virulent and pleasing of all of Nurgle's countless plagues, and the character is blessed to be its host. While the character himself does not fall victim to the rot, his very touch can bestow it upon another, consuming and destroying it.
The character may spend a Full Action and roll a d100. If he rolls equal to or under his Corruption Point Total (in effect, he Tests Corruption) everyone within a number of metres equal to his Corruption Point bonus suffers 1d10 Damage with the Tainted and Toxic (4) qualities. The Damage from this power ignores Armour unless it is environmentally sealed. Those Devoted to Nurgle are unaffected by this power.
The character's skin stretches and writhes as loathsome shapes gestate beneath its surface. Soon after, the shapes become boils and then seeping pustules from which tiny Nurglings are hatched. These tiny creatures live in the recesses of the character's body, finding warmth and sustenance in the most unlikely of places. They are fiercely loyal to their host and fight viciously to defend their home from attack.
Once per combat the character may spill its distended guts and, in so doing, instantly summon a number of Nurglings equal to its Toughness Bonus.
D100 Roll | Reward Received |
---|---|
01-14 | Corpulent Immensity |
15-28 | Daemonic Name |
29-42 | Daemon Weapon |
43-56 | Face of Nurgle |
56-72 | Mark of Nurgle |
73-86 | Nurgle's Rot |
87-100 | Nurgling Infestation |
A number of legends surround the worlds of the Screaming Vortex, many of them cautionary tales or nightmarish parables of death and despair. Upon seeing the Writhing World for the first time, there are few who would dispute that this blighted planet has inspired many such dark stories.
From orbit, the Writhing World appears as a dirty-brown orb, its surface in constant subtle motion. The planet is seemingly composed of huge, continent-sized tendrils of worm-like flesh, perpetually slithering by small degrees in a bewildering pattern that has driven many strong men to madness.
There are no certain records of what may lie beneath the ever-squirming layers of the planet's surface, but there are dozens of theories that either describe the Writhing World as the birthplace of some ancient, malevolent god or the battleground for an apocalyptic battle, and that the planet itself is a long-forgotten weapon from that conflict.
Regardless of these speculations, the Writhing World has somehow become home to a number of scattered, feral human tribes, eking out a primitive existence amongst the tendril-ridges and flesh-mountains. Massive, mobile organic constructs called "crawling citadels" scuttle across the planet's surface, each a mighty tower controlled by a powerful sorcerer or biomancer. These sorcerer-kings sometimes approach wanderers and warbands with offers of safe passage across the treacherous worm-wastes in return for technology or secret knowledge.
Another minor mystery related to the Writhing World is the existence of four small moons in its orbit, each verdant with primitive plant and animal life forms. Although these moons are uninhabited, each is claimed by one of the sorcerer-kings as his private reserve, and there are many stories amongst the tribes that the moons are home to the souls of the damned and the source of the sorcerer-kings' power. Between these moons lies a thick chain of asteroids and a ring system. Those who fly within the rings find that each chunk and particle is also made of worm-like tendrils on a smaller scale, aping the planet they orbit.
Beyond Melancholia is to be found the world of Mire - a fetid, clammy planet of swamps and endless plains of sucking mud. The inhabitants grub about the stinking depths of the mud flats for what little sustenance they can find, ever encrusted with layer upon layer of hard-packed filth. So scarce are sources of nutrition on Mire that when even the smallest grub or root is uncovered, entire tribes go to war with one another. Incoherent and barbarous, the savages brain one another with precious rocks or pull one another down into the cold depths where they share a hideous, mutual demise.
On several occasions, warlords have taken tribes of Mirens away, forcing them to serve as slave-warriors in their hordes. Mirens make brutally effective foot soldiers and are known for their propensity to rip open the bellies of those they have slain, plunging their arms inside the corpses in search of the choicest meats denied them on the world of their birth.
"Though the ground may open and devour you at any moment, that's a small price for freedom in my eyes."
— Cachek the Deranged of the Writhing World, now deceased
Within the ranks of the loyalist Adeptus Astartes, it is the Chaplain's duty to not only tend the souls of his chapter brothers, but to walk among them as a living reminder that they are the Angels of Death, that they are destruction made manifest. To stir the hearts of his fellow Space Marines a Chaplain recites the Catechisms of Hate, prayers and proverbs extolling the space marine and his role as death incarnate. For most members of the Adeptus Astartes, these directives are but a means to an end, their particular method of safe-guarding the Imperium of Man against the manifold threats of Xenos, Heretic, and Daemon. For Vorxec Calvarius, former Chaplain of the Silver Skulls Chapter, death and destruction are the ends for which he was made the means.
When he was but a Battle-Brother, Calvarius was a man dedicated to not only thwart the enemies of man, but to annihilate them wholly. His fervor made him a sure candidate for the Reclusiam and within the span of a few decades he was made Chaplain. However, during his second century of service, Calvarius participated in the purging of the Plague World of Horestis, commanding a half-company of Silver Skulls.
Horestis was a world infused by Chaos, dedicated wholly to the Lord of Decay. Fighting across the fungal-ridden Rot Fields, and purging the corroded spires of Hive Tortentus, Calvarius watched his fellow Space Marines drop around him, consumed by the virulent plagues. When the warp rifts opened, and the legions of Nurgle spewed forth, Calvarius fought them with Crosius and bolter, even as his brothers fell to the corroded blades of the foe. Finally, Calvarius stood alone, surrounded by masses of Nurgle's horde. As the chuckling bulk of a Great Unclean One approached, Calvarius finally went down on one knee. If the Daemon thought Calvarius was submitting, it was mistaken, for the Chaplain knelt to contact the warships in orbit.
The cloud-wracked sky shattered, sundered by a ferocious barrage of missiles. Each missile's warhead contained the tools of Exterminatus, the dreaded Life Eater Virus, and the epicentre of the strike centred on Calvarius and the Great Unclean One. The virus consumed all life on the world, releasing so much oxygen into the atmosphere that the very air caught fire and burned out.
The Imperial warships left Horestis, secure in the knowledge that nothing had survived. But they were wrong. Alone amongst an entire world, even amongst the daemonic legions that assailed it, Vorxec Calvarius somehow survived. He lay crippled and near death for forty-nine days, sustained by his own formidable will and by something else, some dark force that would not let him pass. As he lay there, the Reclusiarch was overcome by a glorious revelation. The Imperium and all life in the galaxy ultimately served the Lord of Decay. All life died, and if bringing death was his sacred calling, why should he not do so in the name of he who was responsible for the ultimate death of all?
Vorxec Calvarius knew from that moment onward that his loyalty lay not with the God-Emperor, crumbling on his Golden Throne, but with the Lord of Flies, Father Nurgle himself. At that moment he rose from where he lay, his body miraculously healed but a new fever burning within his mind. As if guided by fate, a renegade reaver vessel had recently arrived in orbit, hoping to salvage what they could from the dead world. Vorxec killed the landing party, then returned to their ship, demanding passage on pain of death. For several decades he wandered the galaxy, from one outbreak of pestilence to the next, collecting a multitude of plagues that he might spread their contagion throughout the realms of men and alien.
Vorxec has now gathered to him a small band of able warriors, each a host to innumerable afflictions. He has returned to his place as spiritual leader and his liturgies of pestilence and catechisms of infection stir in the zealous hearts of his followers. With his devoted retinue in tow, he plies the stars, from world to world, system to system, miring the galaxy in vicious epidemics.
For some, the greatest terror is the failure of the mortal shell. Decay, pestilence, and rot are constants in a galaxy populated with an uncountable number of living souls. Life begets filth and plague, and in a twisted mockery of this fact, it is human life which begets the lesser daemons of the Lord of Flies. When Nurgle's ubiquitous Rot consumes the body of a human victim, the soul is likewise consumed. This process brings into being the wretched Plaguebearers. These one-eyed daemons appear as frail, wasted human bodies with bloated stomachs, long gangling arms, and broad mouths full of broken fangs and dripping with infectious spittle. Their foreheads are peaked with a single ivory horn, crusted with dried blood, mucus and pus. In their gnarled hands, they carry thick, rusty cleavers and broad slashing blades which they use on the battlefield to spread their virulent infections. Surrounded by a thick cloud of enormous black flies, they are a horrific foe, even from across the field of battle, as their host buzzes with the wings of the flies and rumbling with a dolorous dirge. The body of a Plaguebearer appears weak and fragile, but their constant exposure to the vilest concoctions of Nurgle's cauldron has made them unnaturally resilient. Inured to pain, ignorant of the idea of injury, they fight on, even laughing at the sight of their own dismemberment.
The attitude of a Plaguebearer is often more frightening to mortals than their appearance. They solemnly drudge along, steady in the suffering and despair they cause. This is not some sadistic pleasure, like that of Slaanesh, but rather a determined appreciation of Nurgle's genius, a devotion of his art and an acknowledgment of eventual disintegration of all things. Their wish to spread disease is driven by their wish to share their Father's gifts with the galaxy. As they march, they chant out the list of poxes, plagues, and pestilence their Father has created, ever certain in their growing number and increasing virulence.
WS | BS | S | T | Ag | Int | Per | WP | Fel | Inf |
---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
35 | 21 | 543 | 1056 | 30 | 28 | 31 | 35 | 11 | - |
Movement: 3/6/9/18
Wounds: 20
Armour: None
Total TB: 10
Skills: Awareness (Per), Psyniscience (Per), Scholastic Lore (Numerology) (Int), Speak Language (any one) (Int).
Talents: Crippling Strike.
Traits: Daemonic (+5), Dark Sight, Fear 3, From Beyond, Natural Weapons, Unnatural Strength (+1), Warp Instability.
Weapons: Claws and teeth (1d10+7 R; Primitive (6), Tearing, Toxic ) or Plague Sword (1d10+8 R, Pen 4, Balanced, Toxic [2]).
Infected Wounds: Whenever a target fails the Toxic Test from a Plaguebearer's attacks they also suffer 1d5 Toughness Damage. This takes into account the Plague Sword's rules.
Vomit: As a Half Action, a Plaguebearer can vomit on one victim within five metres. It must succeed on a Ballistic Skill Test to hit its foe. The target may Dodge the spew but may not Parry it. On a successful hit, the vomit deals 1d10+5 Damage. If the attack would deal Critical Damage, the vomit deals 2d10 points of Toughness Damage.
Daemonic Presence: All enemies within 10 metres of a Plaguebearer suffer -10 penalty to Willpower Tests.
While the other three gods of Chaos create powerful daemonic subjects to serve them, fight for them, and lead their armies, Grandfather Nurgle's daemonic followers are his children, his beloved family. Delighting in their successes and playfully cajoling in their failure, the Father of Plagues is ever watchful of his offspring, encouraging them to ever greater antics in his name. As near-facsimiles of their putrid creator, the Great Unclean Ones are bombastic abominations of infection and decay. Despite their truly vile existence, Great Unclean Ones possess a near limitless capacity for joviality and morbid joy at the horrors they inflict. Wide, leering mouths filled with cracked, stained teeth dominate their thick, squat heads crowned with broken, ichor-covered antlers. Long, lolling tongues hang from their jaws, dripping with infectious saliva. Their immense bodies, often towering over a dozen meters, are rife with weeping sores and split flesh, spilling their bowels about their bloated abdomens. As they heft their colossal bulk about the battlefield, their fiery buboes split to disgorge giggling Nurglings, who tumble down the folds of their massive bellies.
Great Unclean Ones long ago became inured to pain, a result of their abundant infections, plagues, and virulent sores. Their truly massive size and their ability to withstand injury and pain make them dangerous adversaries, as they can withstand astounding amounts of damage before finally falling to the attacks of their foes. These daemon-lords possess a hellish prowess, which seems at odds with their bulk and squat stature. They barrel into their enemies, laughing boisterously, all the while laying about them with colossal rusty cleavers and seven-headed flails. The thick cloud of flies which feast at their open sores disrupt the attacks of their enemies and spread the putrid diseases of their host. All the while, the cooing Nurglings form a hideous vanguard for their Papa and in a playful gesture do all they can to help spread their Father's beloved plagues to those nearest him.
Great Unclean Ones conduct the affairs of Nurgle with tenacity and paternal guidance. They encourage their underlings to revel in Nurgle's decay and pestilence, while jumping on every chance to spread new plagues. When leading the armies of the Father of Plagues, Great Unclean Ones fight with a good-natured joy that suggests they know that their cause will eventually win out. They may even be right, for there is only one true constant in the galaxy: decay.
WS | BS | S | T | Ag | Int | Per | WP | Fel | Inf |
---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
49 | 42 | 1056 | 2277 | 21 | 56 | 43 | 70 | 28 | 50 |
Movement: 6/12/18/32
Wounds: 232
Armour: None
Total TB: 22
Skills: Awareness (Per) +10, Command (Fel), Forbidden Lore (Daemonology) (Int) +20, Intimidate (S) +20, Logic (Int), Medicae (Int), Parry (WS), Psyniscience (Per) +20, Scrutiny (Per), Survival (Per).
Talents: Crippling Strike, Crushing Blow, Demagogue, Disturbing Voice, Hammer Blow, Hardy, Swift Attack, Takedown, Thunder Charge, Unarmed Master.
Weapons: Giant Plaguesword (2d10+12 E, Pen 4, Balanced, Toxic [4]).
Traits: Amphibious, Daemonic (+5), Dark-sight, Fear (4), From Beyond, Regeneration (5), Size (Immense), Sturdy, Unnatural Strength (+5), Unnatural Toughness (+10), The Stuff of Nightmares.
Daemonic Presence: All enemies within 20 metres of a Great Unclean One suffer -10 penalty to Willpower Tests and Toughness Tests (not, however, an enemy's Toughness Characteristic).
Touched By Nurgle: The Great Unclean One may use any Nurgle Psychic Power and passes the Focus Power Test automatically with 1d5 Degrees of Success. He counts as having a Psy Rating of 7.
The sole privilege to study the twisted flesh of the crew of the Light of Ascension has been left in the hands of the minions of Tzeentch. An interested party, the daemon-possessed savant Gresh, recently learned that the Mendacious Oracle of the Temple of Lies has sent an invitation to a devotee of Nurgle and approaches that Heretic in hopes of hiring him to secure a sample or two of the tainted Imperial flesh stored on display in the temple's garden shrines. Past attempts to secure such a sample have failed. Gresh is known as the Plaguehunter of the infamous Vorxec Calvarius (see page 342), and believes the flesh is something he could bring to his master. Given the Heretic's potential as a man of destiny in the Screaming Vortex, the Gresh has decided to give it another try.
The temple's invitation is delivered by Elika The Seer (see the read-aloud text from the "Invitation to Greatness" section). She approaches and invites them. At a later point, when the Heretic finds himself alone, Gresh approaches him. Read aloud or paraphrase the following:
The air around you suddenly chills and you catch the whiff of rot and decay. A hunched figure in tattered robes steps out from the nearby shadows, shadows you could have sworn held nothing.
The figure holds up its hands. "Please, master, I mean you no harm." When it speaks, it sounds as if two mouths are speaking at almost the same time and, when it raises its head, you see why. Under the hood is an elderly man, with another face grown into the side of his head and neck. The face apes his speech in a high-pitched voice.
"I am Gresh, emissary of the Dread Calvarius. I have learned you are travelling to the Temple of Lies. While you are there, I was wondering if you would be interested in carrying out a task? My master would be... most grateful."
Tertiary Goal: Attain and deliver a sample of twisted flesh to Gresh. If successful, the Heretic receives 2 Infamy and 200 Experience, as well as a favour from a powerful warband leader in the Screaming Vortex (which is partially where the Infamy comes from).