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The world of Sisk resonates in the Warp like a finely tuned chord. Several Chaos warbands have seen fit to intervene from time to time on Sisk, and there exists a handful who have made the planet their home base in the region. A deep thread of heresy and genetic corruption has poisoned much of Sisk's population, aided by whispered lies and seductive promises from the lips of Dark Apostles. The warbands operating on Sisk have set their goal as the slow and gradual corruption of the entire planet. Many of the mutants lurking in the planet's mist-ridden highlands have sworn dire oaths to the Dark Gods, and a surprising number of nobles in the Lord Governor's court have joined them. The Governor, Lord Gavvit, remains mostly unaware of these plots and schemes amongst his own followers, but he has begun to suspect that the "mutant problem" far from his capital is much more severe than anyone truly understands.
A great swamp on the southernmost continent has recently come under the sway of Malaghent, a Chaos Lord who has dedicated himself to the foul embrace of Nurgle. In the burbling depths of the marsh, Malaghent has begun a horrific breeding program amongst the mutants, attempting to use his own noxious sorcery to create a new strain of mutation, capable of spreading his patron's gifts of plague and filth far and wide. So far, patrols on Sisk are completely unaware of Malaghent's location, but the misshapen results of his experimentation have begun to acquire notice amongst the Imperial Guard advisors in the region. At least one platoon of Valhallans have gone missing in this area, and it is only a matter of time before the Imperium's military takes a much greater interest.
Nurgle is the Lord of Decay, the grandfather who embodies corruption and decay in all forms. Those Marked by Nurgle become bloated with corruption, their flesh deadened to pain and fatigue. As the recipient's flesh rots, he gestates within his body the sacred plagues of his patron, eager to share such "blessings" with all he encounters. Unlike Khorne, Nurgle is often very willing to respond to pleas from those who suffer from weakness or poverty. These pathetic cries for aid are sweet music to Nurgle, a joyful chorus welcoming his touch. Nurgle is pleased to grant life to those on death's door, eternally amused by the nature of his assistance - those who accept it become damned for eternity, endlessly serving to incubate virulent strains of noxious sickness.
Effects: Bearers of the Mark of Nurgle increase their Wounds by 1d10 and gain the Stuff of Nightmares and Unnatural Toughness (4) Traits. If a recipient already possesses the Unnatural Toughness Trait, increase the value of this Trait by 2 instead.
Dour and fatalistic, worshippers of Nurgle cling to life by any means, even as they choke out all life around them.
Nurgle's champions trudge forward with inevitable purpose, favouring neither ambush nor reaction. They rarely employ stealth in their approach, allowing their enemies to see the futility of their struggles as they lumber forward in plain sight.
Worshippers of Nurgle rely on their resilience to carry them through, knowing that their mere presence corrupts and destroys all life around them. They butcher their foes at range as they slowly approach and then with deadly, plagued weapons once within melee range, feeling neither pleasure or anguish, seeing only the inevitability that their enemies struggle in vain to reject.