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Great Unclean Ones

The Great Unclean Ones are the Greater Daemons of Nurgle. They are avatars of their patron god in that they have his likeness, to the extent that their followers often directly refer to Great Unclean Ones as Nurgle (an example of metonymy).

Notable Great Unclean Ones are Ku'gath and Scabeiathrax. Other Great Unclean Ones include: Abscessas, Gzarik Redclaw Nurgle, Ischbak Gatrog Nurgle, the Rotting King, and Thush'Bolg.

White Dwarf 109 (1989-01)

White Dwarf 109 (Jan 1989), p25 — The Servants of Chaos

The Daemons of Nurgle and Tzeentch are crafty and subtle creatures in their own ways. Nurgle, the Lord of Disease, the bringer of decay, has made his Daemons in his own image, yet none of his Daemons are quite as they appear. Even the apparently straightforward and repulsively playful Nurglings, who infest his servants like mites, are twisted and moulded to Nurgle's image and purpose.

The festering sordidness of his Unclean Ones is merely a pale echo of Nurgle's own gross fascination with disease and decay. Their studied air of self-concern and overweening misery is just that: a studied pose which can be thrown aside when Nurgles' own bassoprofondo glee requires a chorus of answering unwholesome titters. They serve as ciphers for his malicious humours, urges towards decay and foul exertions.

White Dwarf 109 (Jan 1989), p27 — The Great Unclean Ones

Greater Daemons of Nurgle (Bahk'ghuranh'aghkami)

Corruptors of Flesh, The Corrupt, Fly Masters, Sons of Nurgle, Plague Lords, Wallowers in the Pit, Stench Lords

These powerful Daemons are slothful and indolent wallowers in morbidity, concerned only with the progress of their own personal cargo of infections and illnesses. Once roused, however, they are deadly opponents, despite the studied air of decay and misery that surrounds them. Although they have tremendous strength, whenever possible the Unclean Ones prefer spellcasting to the exertions and dangers of combat. They will, of course, fight if magic or escape are impossible.

Physique: Created in Nurgle's own image, a Great Unclean One is far taller than a man. Its bloated body is riddled with pustules, and its head sits on multiple chins without any sign of a neck. The Unclean One's sinewy arms reach to the ground, and its three-fingered, clawed hands are always filthy. A snake-like tongue hangs from its mouth with a tiny, malicious face of its own. An Unclean One's skin is tinted various shades of green, yellow and brown, and is encrusted with slimy mucus. Often this hangs in gobbets and drops from the Daemon whenever it moves its lumpen body. Its horns and claws are of a sickly ivory hue.

An Unclean One may be infested with Nurglings (Daemonic Servants of Nurgle) who obtain sustenance by nibbling upon the dead skin of the Greater Daemon. Such creatures can even live within the mouth of an Unclean One, picking juicy morsels from the rotten stumps of their large cousin's teeth.

Alignment: Chaos (Nurgle)

Psychological Traits: As Greater Daemon. Subject to hatred of all creatures and followers of Tzeentch.

Magic: Greater Daemons of Nurgle know seven spells of various levels. They always succeed in casting spells, and no magic points are expended (see The Magic of Chaos). See Daemonic Saving Throws in The Magic of Chaos for details of an Unclean One's magic saving throw.

Magic Items: Each Great Unclean One may have D6 random magic items. See the Random Magic Items Table in The Lost and the Damned.

Special Rules: As Greater Daemon. An Unclean One has 8 claw attacks, 1 bite or gore and 1 stomp. Each time that an Unclean One bites an opponent an extra attack occurs. If this is successful the tongue-face has also bitten the opponent with a poisonous bite causing a Strength 1 hit.

Any non-magical weapon which comes into contact with an Unclean One rusts and moulders to dust instantly. Magical, Daemon and Chaos weapons and armour are unaffected.

All living creature in hand-to-hand combat with an Unclean One risk catching Nurgle's Rot. See Nurgle's Rot in The Magic of Chaos for further details of this daemonic infection.

WFRP: The claw and bite attacks have a 100% chance of causing infected wounds.

Great Unclean Ones should be mounted on 40mm x 40mm bases.

Great Unclean One

Warhammer Fantasy Battle
MWSBSSTWIALdIntClWPPV
610107710101010+310+310+310+31100

The points value has been modified to reflect the Unclean One's spellcasting abilities. Great Unclean Ones have an armour saving throw of 5 or 6.

Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay
MWSBSSTWIADexLdIntClWPFel
69093773910010898989898901

A Great Unclean One has 2 armour points on all locations.

The profiles may be modified by the Daemon's Chaos attributes.

White Dwarf 119 (1989-11)

White Dwarf 119 (Nov 1989), p19-24 — The Great Unclean Ones

Greater Daemons of Nurgle (Bahk'ghuranhi'aghkami)

Great Unclean Ones, Fly Masters, Plague Lords, Stench Lords, Nurgle, Father Nurgle

The Great Unclean Ones are the Greater Daemons of Nurgle. In the case of other Chaos Powers, Greater Daemons are servants, albeit immensely able and powerful ones. This is not quite true of Nurgle's Greater Daemons, who are each a virtual facsimile of Nurgle, both physically and in terms of personality. Thus it may be said that every Great Unclean One is also Nurgle. A Great Unclean One is sometimes referred to as Nurgle or Father Nurgle by his underlings, although of course he also has his own daemonic name.

A Great Unclean One certainly looks like Nurgle - a gigantic figure bloated with decay, disease and all imaginable kinds of physical corruption. The skin of the daemon is greenish, necrose and leathery, its surface covered with pockmarks, sores, and other signs of disease and infestation. The inner organs, rank with decay, spill through the ruptured skin and hang like drapes about the Daemon's girth. Tiny creatures called Nurglings burst from these organs and chew and suck upon the nauseous juice within. Such foulness represents the ultimate truth of the universe: the inevitable victory of decay and the end of all things.

In character the Greater Daemon is neither deathlike nor morbid. In fact the opposite is true. Great Unclean Ones are motivated by all the trivial Human enthusiasms which drive the living. They are ebullient and vociferous, full of a natural enthusiasm to organise and achieve. They are driven by a gregarious and even sentimental nature and hold their followers dear, even referring to them as their 'Children', and taking a noticeable pride in their appearance and endearing behaviour.

This combination of physical corruption and energetic endeavour is the most extraordinary characteristic of Nurgle's Daemons. It can be seen most clearly when the Great Unclean One and his daemonic followers appear in the material world. The horde travels in a great cavalcade of covered wagons, bringing with it all the pestilences and ills that befall the living. The wagons are in no better condition physically than the Daemons within. Their shrouds are tattered and rotten, their frames splintered and bent, and their metal-work pitted and rusted. Yet within the plodding caravan of Nurgle all is bustle and activity as the Great Unclean One prepares to launch a festival of decay and destruction upon a Human village, a thriving town, or an opposing army. For Nurgle's visitation is like that of a travelling circus or great fair, except that the entertainment it offers is disease, sickness and death.

As the caravan draws near to its destination the excitement of the Daemons draws to a fever pitch. Plaguebearers take stock of pestilence and disease, counting the reserves of sickness, the number of Nurglings, each other, and eventually anything that stands still long enough to be counted. Amidst the deep-throated drone of the Plaguebearers' endless tally, the Nurglings chatter and prance like small children about to embark upon a special treat. They squabble and squirm, snigger and squeal, and their numbers increase and diminish beyond the Plaguebearers' ability to count them. Amidst the general hullaballoo and anticipation, the overly affectionate Beasts of Nurgle bound uncontrollably from Plaguebearer to Plaguebearer, like exciteable puppies, leaving pools of dribble and slime as they pass.

When the Great Unclean One speaks his manner is immediately reminiscent of the great stage manager and leader that he is. He addresses his cast of Plaguebearers, Nurglings and Beasts, building their enthusiasm by recalling the fine aesthetic qualities of famous diseases of the past. He may mention in passing the wine-dark sea of purple patterned decay, the fine flaky texture and slightly salty tang of eczema. As the multitude clamours for more, he will describe the gem-like shine of a boil as it wells to a head, and the final satisfaction as it bursts exposing a glistening cavity of inflamed flesh.

The space inside the wagon was cavernous out of all proportion to its tiny exterior size. The cacophonies that filled it were indescribable: the squealing, screaming, chattering and bickering of the Nurglings was beyond mere Human imagining. A million unruly school children left to their own devices could not even begin to rival the anarchy or intensity of that daemonic din. The grating drones of the Plaguebearers all counting at once produced a sound so bass and penetrating that it made the vital organs of every Daemon vibrate and quiver in time with its beat. Then there were the indescribable noises, the creaks and groans, the little pops of bursting pustules, the sloppering sticky noises of the frantically affectionate Beasts, and other sounds which were impossible to ascribe to any one source in particular. Amidst it all, waving his arms, the Great Unclean One was trying to make himself heard.

"Ahh... Gentlecreatures, Children, my pretties... lend your ears to your loving Father, cease thy aimless chatter, banish thy banal burblings..."

It was quite useless, the noise continued, the squeals and laughter reaching a new crescendo. The Great Unclean One appeared for a moment to be hurt by his fellow Daemons' rudeness.

"SHUT UP!" he bellowed.

The noise stopped instantly. Not even the beat of little daemonic hearts or drip of tiny daemonic noses could be heard. The brow of every Plaguebearer furrowed in concentration as each tried desperately to remember the last number he thought of. The Great Unclean One quickly regained his composure; he was used to such things.

"Gentlecreatures, our pretties... now is time to sing the songs of fate, for the moment has come for the Dance of Death!"

The Great Unclean One

Alignment: Chaos (Nurgle)

Special Psychological Traits: Hates all Daemons and Champions of Tzeentch. Otherwise standard for Greater Daemon.

Magic: A Greater Daemon of Nurgle has a spell pool of 7 randomly determined spells - the first spell generated of any level will be a Spell of Nurgle as described later.

Magic Items: A Great Unclean One carries D6 randomly-generated magic items.

Special Rules: A Great Unclean One has 10 attacks in total: 8 claw, 1 bite or gore, and 1 stomp. When the Daemon scores a successful hit with a bite attack, his snake-headed tongue makes an additional attack; if successful the damage caused is resolved with a Strength of 4. WFRP - successful claw and bite attacks cause infected wounds.

Any non-magical weapon which strikes a Great Unclean One will instantly rust away to nothing, leaving the attacker weaponless.

Any living creature engaged in hand-to-hand combat against a Great Unclean One risks catching the dreaded disease Nurgle's Rot.

Great Unclean Ones do not need to wear armour. Their corpulent and unfeeling flesh gives them a natural saving throw against damage of 5 or 6 on a D6.

WFRP - the Great Unclean One has 2 armour points on every hit location.

Profile - Warhammer Fantasy Battle and WH40K
MWSBSSTWIALdIntClWPPV
610107710101010+310+310+310+31100

Profile - Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay
MWSBSSTWIADexLdIntClWPFel
69093773910010898989898901

The Nurglings flocked to their master, squabbling and bickering in their impatience to nestle in the warm comfort of his decaying bosom.

"Ahhh... Nurgle's Children, our pretties, our pets," cried the deep warm voice of the Great Unclean One. "How Nurgle loves his little Children!"

With a broad and loving smile the great Daemon raised a hand to pluck the Nurgling that had settled into the folds of his chest. The Nurgling squealed and squirmed as the hand enveloped it and caressed it for a moment before popping it whole into the Great Unclean One's mouth.

The Dance of Death

As the great plague carts and wagons of the cavalcade of Nurgle approach their target, the unsuspecting village or the sleepy town, the Daemons prepare their campaign of destruction. In all respects it is a performance, and like all performances it has its prelude as well as its climax. In this case the prelude is the Dance of Death, enacted the night before the assault, when the Daemons of Nurgle dance a great Dance of Death, circling the town or village three times. As the moon rises into the sky the dance begins its course and the cast of Daemons moves solemnly over the hills and fields. As the procession moves past the outlying houses, dogs and cattle take up the cacophonous noise, adding their barking and lowing to the rising song. As the night progresses and the first circuit is complete, the excitement begins to mount. The songs become raucous and the dancing more and more animated. As the dancers begin the third circuit they abandon themselves to a frenzy of song, laughter, and madness in which they cry out the terrible things that they intend to do on the morrow. As the dance nears completion, the noise reaches the houses of the living. Those awakened by the song hide under their covers too terrified to move, while those still sleeping experience strange and disturbing dreams. Then all falls quiet. The third circuit is now complete and the songs of fate are at an end.

The Burgermeister woke from the nightmare, his heart beating like a drum and his grey limbs quivering with unreasoning terror. The words of the dreamsong echod in his mind, the cries of some daemonic child threatening and taunting him.

"Flies, flies, eat up his eyes! The Burgermeister's lovely eyes!"

He shuddered as he recalled the verse of the childish rhyme ringing even now in his ears. Throwing aside the clammy bedclothes, he walked to the window. As he inhaled the cool night air he looked out across the Newfield towards Redfarm hill. And then his heart almost stopped. There, outlined against the hill, was the nightmare made real. A carnival of cavorting Daemons vanishing behind the rise as he watched, and there upon the breeze once more the piercing cackle and that maddening song.

"The eyes! The flies! The eyes! The flies! Before the Burgermeister dies!"

Father Nurgle settled down among the supporting heap of his smallest minions. Those lucky enough to escape being crushed by their master's bulk squealed delightedly as they snuggled into the damp warmth of his flesh. Nurgle reclined comfortably and his corpulent face assumed an air of triumphant expectancy.

Nurgle gave a dignified nod to one of the Plaguebearers. Excitedly, the daemon began to beat its drum, slowly and rhythmically at first, and gradually faster and faster as it became carried away by the sense of occasion. All of Nurgle's servants cheered and applauded, and Nurgle acknowledged them with a smile and a regal wave of his festering paw.

It was the prelude to battle that excited the daemons, drawing squeals of anticipation from the tumbling little Nurglings. This time the cavalcade was to be joined by others: Champions of Nurgle and their mortal Warbands, who were going to take part in the great war. The Beasts bounded and fussed in their eagerness to welcome the mortals, causing considerable disarray and the odd casualty among the serried ranks of warriors.

The Warbands flocked to the sound of the drum. The came in carts and wagons like those of Nurgle's own cavalcade, marched into camp, or simply distilled from the surrounding woods like shadows at sunset. Some of the most severely mutated of them wore bright carnival masks and voluminous robes, completely failing to hide their unique disfigurements if that was in fact their purpose. The Plaguebearers carefully recorded the name of each Champion as he arrived, announcing his titles as loudly as they were able among the rising laughter and squeaking chatter. The show pleased Father Nurgle immensely: the busy scampering daemons, the creaking carts with their tinkling bells, the gaily-coloured masks and carefully decorated palanquins bearing various daemons or Champions. He sighed with satisfaction and patted the Nurgling that had crawled into the crook of his arm and puddled.

Realm of Chaos: The Lost and the Damned (1990)

Great Unclean One

Realm of Chaos: The Lost and the Damned (1990), p13-16 — The Great Unclean Ones

Greater Daemons of Nurgle (Bahk'ghuranhi'aghkami)

Great Unclean Ones, Fly Masters, Plague Lords, Stench Lords, Nurgle, Father Nurgle

The Great Unclean Ones are the Greater Daemons of Nurgle. In the case of other Chaos Powers, Greater Daemons are servants, albeit immensely able and powerful ones. This is not quite true of Nurgle's Greater Daemons, who are each more or less a facsimile of Nurgle himself, both physically, and in terms of their personality. In other words, it may be said that every Great Unclean One is also Nurgle.

A Great Unclean One is sometimes referred to as Nurgle or Father Nurgle by his underlings, although of course he also has his own daemonic name.

A Great Unclean One certainly looks like Nurgle - a gigantic figure bloated with decay, disease and all imaginable kinds of physical corruption. The skin of the daemon is greenish, necrose and leathery, its surface is covered with pockmarks, sores, and other signs of infestation. The inner organs, rank with decay, spill through the ruptured skin and hang like drapes about the girth. From these organs burst tiny creatures called Nurglings which chew and suck upon the nauseous juices within. Such foulness represents the truth of the universe, of decay and the end of all things.

Yet in character the Greater Daemon is neither deathlike nor morbid. In fact the opposite is true, Great Unclean Ones are motivated by all the trivial human enthusiasms which drive the living. They are ebullient and vociferous, full of a natural enthusiasm to organise and achieve. They are driven by a gregarious and even sentimental nature and hold their followers dear, even referring to them as their 'Children' and taking a noticeable pride in their appearance and endearing behaviour.

This combination of physical corruption and energetic endeavour is the most extraordinary characteristic of Nurgle's daemons. It can be seen most clearly when the Great Unclean One and his daemonic followers appear in the material world.

The horde travels in a great cavalcade of covered wagons, bringing with it all the pestilences and ills that befall the living. The wagons are in no better physical condition than the daemons within. Their shrouds are tattered and rotten, their frames splintered and bent, and their metal-work pitted and rusted. Yet within the plodding caravan of Nurgle all is bustle and activity as the Great Unclean One prepares to launch a festival of decay and destruction upon a human village, a thriving town, or an opposing army. For Nurgle's visitation is like that of a travelling circus or great fair, except that the entertainment it offers is disease, sickness and death.

The space inside the wagon was cavernous out of all proportion to its tiny exterior size. The cacophonies that filled it were indescribable; the squealing, screaming, chattering and bickering of the Nurglings was beyond mere human imagining. A million unruly school children left to their own devices could not even begin to rival the anarchy or intensity of that daemonic din. The grating drones of the Plaguebearers all counting at once produced a sound so bass and penetrating that it made the vital organs of every daemon vibrate and quiver in time with its beat.

Then there were the indescribable noises, the creaks and groans, the little pops of bursting pustules, the sloppering slicky noises of the frantically affectionate Beasts, and other sounds which were impossible to ascribe to any one source in particular. Amidst it all, waving his arms, the Great Unclean One was trying to make himself heard.

"Ahh... Gentlecreatures, Children, pretties... lend your ears to your loving Father, cease thy aimless chatter, banish thy banal burblings..."

It was quite useless, the noise continued apace, the squeals and laughter reaching a new crescendo. The Great Unclean One appeared for a moment to be hurt by his fellow daemons' rudeness.

"SHUT UP," he bellowed.

The noise stopped instantly. Not even the beat of little daemonic hearts or drip of tiny daemonic noses could be heard. The brow of every Plaguebearer furrowed in concentration as each tried desperately to remember the last number he thought of. The Great Unclean One quickly regained his composure, for he was used to such things.

"Gentlecreatures our pretties... now is time to sing the songs of fate, for the moment has come for the Dance of Death!"

As the caravan draws near to its destination the excitement of the daemons nears fever pitch. Plaguebearers take stock of pestilence and disease, counting the reserves of sickness, the number of Nurglings, each other, and eventually anything that stands still long enough to be counted. Amidst the deep-throated drone of the Plaguebearers' endless tally, the Nurglings chatter and prance like small children about to embark upon a special treat. They squabble and squirm, snigger and squeal, and their numbers increase and diminish beyond the Plaguebearers' ability to count them. Amid the general hullaballoo and sense of anticipation, the overly affectionate Beasts of Nurgle jump uncontrollably from Plaguebearer to Plaguebearer, like excitable puppies leaving pools of dribble and slime as they pass.

When the Great Unclean One speaks his manner is immediately reminiscent of the great stage manager and leader that he is. He addresses his cast of Plaguebearers, Nurglings and Beasts, building their enthusiasm by recalling the fine aesthetic qualities of famous diseases of the past. He may mention in passing the wine-dark sea of purple-patterned decay, the fine flaky texture and slightly salty tang of eczema. As the multitude clamours for more, he will describe the gem-like shine of a boil as it wells to a head, and the final satisfaction as it bursts exposing a glistening cavity of inflamed flesh.

The Nurglings flocked to their master, squabbling and bickering in their impatience to nestle in the warm comfort of his decaying bosom.

"Ahhh... Nurgle's Children, our pretties, our pets," cried the deep warm voice of the Great Unclean One. "How Nurgle loves his little Children! How Nurgle loves his little pets!"

With a broad and loving smile the great Daemon raised a hand to pluck the Nurgling that had settled into the folds of his chest. The Nurgling squealed and squirmed as the hand enveloped it, caressing it for a moment before popping it whole into the Great Unclean One's mouth.

Great Unclean One

Special Psychological Traits: None - the Great Unclean One is subject to the standard rules for Greater Daemons.

Magic: A Greater Daemon of Nurgle has a spell pool of 7 randomly determined spells - the first spell generated of any level will be a Spell of Nurgle as described later (see Magic of Nurgle).

Magic Items: A Great Unclean One carries D6 randomly generated magic items (see Summary).

Special Rules: A Great Unclean One has 10 attacks in total, including 8 claw, 1 bite or gore, and 1 stomp. When the Daemon scores a successful hit with a bite attack, his snake-headed tongue makes an additional attack: if successful the damage caused is resolved with a Strength of 4. WFRP only - successful claw and bite attacks cause infected wounds.

Any non-magical weapon which strikes a Great Unclean One will rust away to nothing on the D6 score of a 5 or a 6 leaving the attacker weaponless.

Any living creature engaged in hand-to-hand combat against a Great Unclean One risks catching the dreaded disease Nurgle's Rot (see Nurgle's Rot).

Great Unclean Ones do not need to wear armour. Their corpulent and unfeeling flesh gives them a natural saving throw against damage of 5 or 6 on a D6. WFRP - the Great Unclean One has 2 armour points on every hit location.

Chaos Attributes: A Great Unclean One may be given up to 7 Chaos Attributes - 7 being the mystic number of Nurgle. The Great Unclean One does not have to have the full 7 attributes - he may have fewer or none if the player prefers. The number of Chaos Attributes must be decided by the player and individual attributes generated randomly.

Profile - Warhammer Fantasy Battle and WH40K
MWSBSSTWIALdIntClWPPV
610107710101010+310+310+310+31100

Profile - Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay
MWSBSSTWIADexLdIntClWPFel
69093773910010898989898901

The Dance of Death

As the great plague carts and wagons of the cavalcade of Nurgle approach their target, the unsuspecting village or the sleepy town, the daemons prepare their campaign of destruction. In all respects it is a performance, and like all performances it has its prelude as well as its climax. In this case the prelude is the Dance of Death, enacted the night before the assault, when the daemons of Nurgle dance a great Dance of Death encircling the town or village three times.

As the moon rises into the sky the Dance of Death begins its course, the cast of daemons moves solemnly over the hills and fields. As the procession moves past the outlying houses, dogs and cattle take up the cacophonous noise, adding their barking and lowing to the rising song. As the night progresses and the first circuit is complete, the excitement begins to mount. The songs become raucous and the dancing more and more animated. As the dancers begin the third circuit they abandon themselves to a frenzy of song, laughter, and madness in which they cry out the terrible things that they intend to do on the morrow.

As the dance nears its completion, the noise drifts through the night air into the houses of the living, where those awakened by the song lie too terrified to move from their beds, whilst those still sleeping experience strange and disturbing dreams. Animals panic in their stalls or break out of their fields; butter curdles and milk turns sour. When it seems that the horror can no longer be endured, all falls strangely silent. The third circuit is now complete and the songs of fate are at an end.

The Burgermeister woke from the nightmare, his heart beating like a drum and his grey limbs quivering with unreasoning terror. Cold sweat ran from his body and stained the bed clothes with fear. On the other side of the bed his fat wife slept soundly on, oblivious to his distress.

The words of the dreamsong echod in his mind, the cries of some daemonic child threatening and taunting him.

"Flies, flies, eat up his eyes! The Burgermeister's lovely eyes!"

He shuddered as he recalled the verse of the childish rhyme ringing even now in his ears. Throwing aside the clammy bedclothes, he walked to the window and threw open the shutters.

As he leaned out of the window, inhaling the cool night air, he looked out over the fields and woods which surrounded the village. His own house, newly constructed from the best timber and sporting a cast-iron weather vane, was situated on a gentle hill, affording fine views of the pastoral countryside.

His gaze swept across the Newfield towards Redfarm Hill. And then his heart almost stopped. There outlined against the hill was the nightmare made real, a carnival of prancing and cavorting daemons vanishing behind the rise as he watched, and there upon the breeze once more the piercing cackle and that maddening song.

"The eyes! The flies! The eyes! The flies! Before the Burgermeister dies!"

Father Nurgle settled his great mass down among the supporting heap of his smallest minions. Those lucky enough to escape being crushed by their master's bulk squealed delightedly as they snuggled into the damp warmth of his flesh. Nurgle reclined comfortably and his corpulent face assumed an air of triumphant expectancy.

Nurgle gave a dignified nod to one of the Plaguebearers. Excitedly, the daemon began to beat its drum, slowly and rhythmically at first, and gradually faster and faster as it became carried away by the sense of occasion. All of his servants cheered and applauded, and Nurgle acknowledged them with a smile and a regal wave of his festering paw.

It was the prelude to battle that excited the daemons, drawing squeals of anticipation from the tumbling little Nurglings. This time the cavalcade was to be joined by others: Champions of Nurgle and their mortal Warbands, who were also going to take part in the great war. The Beasts bounded and fussed in their eagerness to welcome the mortals, causing considerable disarray and the odd casualty amongst the serried ranks of warriors.

The warbands flocked to the sound of the drum. The came in carts and wagons like those of Nurgle's own cavalcade, marched into camp, or simply distilled from the surrounding woods like shadows at sunset. Some of the most severely mutated of them wore bright carnival masks and voluminous robes, completely failing to hide their unique disfigurements if that was in fact their purpose. The Plaguebearers carefully recorded the name of each Champion as he arrived, announcing his titles as loudly as they were able among the rising laughter and squeaking chatter. The show pleased Father Nurgle immensely: the busy scampering daemons, the creaking carts with their tinkling bells, the gaily-coloured masks and carefully decorated palanquins bearing various daemons or Champions. He sighed with satisfaction and patted the little Nurgling that had crawled into the crook of his arm and puddled there.

Realm of Chaos: The Lost and the Damned (1990), p21

There were times when the weight of millennia weighed heavily on Ischbak Gatrog Nurgle. Not even the contemplation of all the lovely pestilences he had spread could cheer him up. The crop of bright new purple pustules that grew like grapes on his chest gave him not a flicker of pride, and the capering of his daemonic minions seemed tawdry and tedious.

He looked out across the cavernous interior of his great wagon and it brought him no joy. The symphony of flatulence being performed by his followers faded under his empty angry gaze till only a solitary Beastman, too stupid to stop, twanged his goiter.

Ischbak loomed up from his cart, feeling his huge bulk shake his rickety throne. He glared down on his silent followers, unable to derive any pleasure from their terror any more. He let out a long groan. It was all so unbearably tedious.

'I'm bored,' he said, letting eons of ennui show in his voice.

'Nurgle is bored. Two thousand two hundred and twenty two,' muttered Fabian, most conscientious of his Plaguebearers.

'Nurgle is bored,' roared Manthrax the Minotaur, swatting at a Nurgling who came too close.

'Nurgle is bored.' The muttered undercurrent passed round the interior of the wagon. A few of the wiser champions were beginning to back off towards the edge of the room.

A few Nurglings broke out of Ischbak's exposed innard and swam like tadpoles in the pus that surrounded them. Ischbak gently raised one and placed it on the arm of his throne. He tickled its stomach gently so that it giggled.

The Great Unclean One surveyed his followers' blank, uncomprehending faces. None of them showed the slightest glimmer of understanding. Ischbak had spent all the time since the beginning of the world creating, spreading and observing new diseases. Had he not invented the Crimson Death which covered its victims in great blisters while they writhed in fever? And the loathsome Gutrot whose sufferers' bellies swelled until they burst, and many others.

Once he had been proud of his creations, taking as much pleasure in them as any other artist. Now they seemed shallow and meaningless. Was he really going to spend the rest of eternity engaged in such petty activity? He had heard that his great rival Gzarik Redclaw Nurgle had perfected a new form of food poisoning that infected fresh crops with tiny Nurglings. It was so depressing.

The door burst open and his driver Jurt burst in, a smile on what was left of his leprously eroded lips.

'A settlement, Great Nurgle,' he yelled. The noise hurt Ischbak's ears. He gestured for the coachman to speak more quietly. He tried to work up some enthusiasm for the task at hand. He gave a phlegmy sigh.

'What kind of settlement,' he asked wearily.

'Halflings, oh loathsome one.'

His followers waited with baited breath for his response. Halflings, he thought, feeling a slight glimmer of interest almost in spite of himself. A part of him had been enjoying wallowing in melancholia.

Then inspiration struck him. Perhaps he should treat the runts to the joys of depression. Yes that was it! He would do it!

He looked down on his children and smile. They tittered in relief.

'A lesson for you, my pretties,' he said. 'No matter how we feel we must always think of our public. The show must go on!'

He brought his fist down hard on the Nurgling. It burst with an emphatic squelch.

Great Unclean One

White Dwarf 132 (1990-12)

White Dwarf 132 (Dec 1990), p20 — Great Unclean Ones

Greater Daemons

Whereas most Greater Daemons are actually servants and slaves of their Power, those of Nurgle are more akin to facsimiles of Nurgle himself both in terms of appearance and personality. Indeed the followers of Nurgle frequently refer to Great Unclean Ones as Father Nurgle - which gives an indication of the relation between Daemon and underling. Nurgle's followers are treated with a gregarious and even sentimental nature by Great Unclean Ones, who seem to take a noticeable pride in their behaviour and achievements. All Graeter Daemons of Nurgle seem to have boundless energy and drive, constantly working to extend the process of rot and decay, thoughtless for their own comfort while places still remain uncorrupted.

MoveSaveCAFCost
12/183++9/+13700

Notes: hates followers and creatures of Tzeentch.

Daemonic Abilities

Great Unclean Ones cause panic in opponents within 12cm.

Great Unclean Ones are great masters of magic - each turn a Great Unclean One can use a single ability from the following list. These are cast in the appropriate fire phase for its orders unless specified otherwise.

  1. Launch a stream of filth and corruption against its foes. Use the Gargant grape shot template to mark the area affected by the stream. Any unti caight underneath the template must make an unmodified saving throw to survive.
  2. Project an aura of pestilence which halves the CAF value of all units within 12cm which are not followers of Nurgle.
  3. Send followers and Lesser Daemons of Nurgle within 24cm into a whirling Dance of Death. It must declare this use in the orders phase of the turn. The affected units must charge (even if they don't have charge orders) and enter close combat if possible. While in the Dance of Death, units are immune to panic.

Renegades (1992)

Renegades (1992), p57 — Great Unclean One - Greater Daemon of Nurgle

Greater Daemons of Nurgle resemble Nurgle himself in appearance and personality. Their bloated bodies ooze with sores and boils, pus and slime dribbles over their leprous skin, and decaying inner organs protrude from tears in their great bellies. Great Unclean Ones treat their followers with a gregarious and even sentimental nature, taking noticeable pride in their slaves' behaviour, diseases and achievements. All Great Unclean Ones seem to have boundless energy and drive, constantly working to extend the process of rot and decay, thoughtless for their own comfort while parts of the galaxy still remain uncorrupted.

A Great Unclean One is constantly accompanied by swarms of tiny Nurglings: miniature images of Nurgle which pop out constantly from pustules on the rotting flanks of the Great Unclean One. They are mischevious little creatures, and when they aren't off spreading boils and diseases they scramble around the body of the Great Unclean One picking at his skin and squabbling for his attention. When confronted by the enemy the Nurglings advance forward in a furious swarm, biting ankles, clawing shins and generally making a nuisance of themselves. Because of the Nurglings' disruptive effect, Great Unclean Ones never count as being outnumbered in close combat, so enemy troops don't receive extra D6s for having extra models in combat.

Great Unclean Ones can also vomit a Stream of Corruption over their foes. The daemon's bloated gut haves and contracts and the Great Unclean One spews up a stinking jet of blood, maggots, slime and other putrid foulness which chokes and drowns victims in diseased filth.

A Great Unclean One may vomit a Stream of Corruption in the first fire segment of the combat phase. Take the special Stream of Corruption template and place it so that the pointed end touched the base of the Great Unclean One and the broad end lies somewhere in the daemon's front 180° arc. Any model under the template is smothered and destroyed on a D6 roll of 3+. Any model that is affected is killed, and does not get a saving throw. Titans lose one void shield if hit, or take a hit with a -2 save modifier if all their shields are down.

Troop TypeMoveSaving ThrowCAFWeaponsRangeAttack DiceRoll to HitTarget's Save Mod.Notes
Great Unclean One5cm1++7Stream of CorruptionSee above3+No saving throw 

Codex: Chaos (1996)

Great Unclean One

Codex: Chaos (1996), p57 — Great Unclean One - Greater Daemon of Nurgle

Even the most battle hardened of the Ordo Malleus dread this foul daemon more than any other. It is the very image of the Plague God Nurgle himself - huge, green-skinned and bloated with corruption. From open sores and swelling boils, pus and slime dribble over the daemon's leprous skin. Decaying inner organs protrude from rents in rancid flesh. From its gaping maw trickles a bubbling stream of vomit mixed with blood, magoots, and other foulness.

Troop TypeMWSBSSTWIALd
Great Unclean One47778104710

Special Rules

All the special rules for daemons apply as described earlier. In particular, note that the Great Unclean One has a daemonic aura which gives it a saving throw of 4+.

Terror
The Great Unclean One is the most foul of all daemons, its horrific bloated appearance is an offence to the world. Those who witness it rarely survive with their reason intact. The psychology rules for terror apply as described in the Warhammer 40,000 rulebook. Remember that creatures which cause terror automatically cause fear as well.

Stream of Corruption
The Great Unclean One can unleash a stream of steaming vomit over its enemies. This is worked out during the shooting phase. Use the teardrop-shaped Flamer template to represent the attack and calculate casualties exactly as you would for an attack from a template weapon. The stream of vomit inflicts a S7 attack on targets it hits. This attack has a -2 save modifier and inflicts 1 wound. A Great Unclean One may use its Stream of Corruption even when it is in hand-to-hand combat.

Great Unclean One

Codex: Chaos Space Marines (1999)

Codex: Chaos Space Marines (1999), p9 — Greater Daemon

It is impossible to describe the true horrors that are the Greater Daemons. They are the physical manifestations of the evil and despicable Chaos powers. Of all the followers of the Chaos gods, they are truly the closest in nature and spirit to their overlords.

Greater Daemon
 PointsWSBSSTWIALdSv
Bloodthirster1409086445105+
Great Unclean One805375623105+
Lord of Change1158466463105+
Keeper of Secrets1057076445105+

Weapons: All Greater Daemons are armed with a variety of weapons with which to slay their mortal enemies. Some, like the Bloodthirster, carry more than one weapon, but this has been included on their profiles, so they do not receive any extra attack for having an additional close combat weapon.

Psychic Powers: All Greater Daemons, apart from the Bloodthirster, have psychic powers. The powers each have are listed below and the effects of these are described in the Chaos Gifts section. The Lord of Change may use his psychic powers without having to take a Psychic test, but other Greater Daemons must take a Psychic test as normal.

Special Rules

Possession: A Greater Daemon must possess another model in order to enter the battlefield (see the special rules in the introduction to the army list).

Independent Character: Greater Daemons are independent characters and follow all the Independent Character special rules as given in the Warhammer 40,000 rulebook.

Fearsome: If the Greater Daemon wins an assault their opponents automatically have to fall back without a Morale check being taken. Opponents that never fall back or ignore Morale checks ignore tihs effect and will not fall back.

Fearless: Greater Daemons never fall back and cannot be pinned. They are assumed to automatically pass any Morale test.

Monstrous Creature: Greater Daemons are huge and terribly strong opponents. They are treated as Monstrous Creatures and therefore roll 2D6 for armour penetration and ignore their opponents' armour saves in close combat.

Invulnerable: Greater Daemons are unnatural creatures made from the very stuff of Chaos and are therefore very difficult to destroy. They are treated as being invulnerable and therefore may make an armour save against any and all wounds they take, even those that would normally pierce their armour or that allow no save to be made.

Wings: The Bloodthirster and the Lord of Change have wings. This allows them to make a 12" assault move, ignoring any intervening terrain between them and the target.

The Daemon has many forms. You must know them all. You must tell the Daemon from his disguise and root him out from the hidden places. Trust no-one. Trust not even yourself. It is better to die in vain than to live in abomination. The zealous martyr is praised for his valour; the craven and the unready are justly abhorred.
— The First Book of Indoctrinations

Codex: Chaos Space Marines (2002)

Codex: Chaos Space Marines (2002), p23 — 0-1 Greater Daemon

Great Unclean One

Wreathed in swarms of giggling Nurglings, the Great Unclean one shambles across the battlefield spreading disease and pestilence wherever it passes. To the mortal eye it is the foulest of servants of the Ruinous Powers, appearing as a malformed being of weeping pustules and exposed, diseased organs; few men have the stomach, let alone the ability to oppose such a being.

 Pts/ModelWSBSSTWIALdSv
Bloodthirster2059086445103+/4+
Great Unclean One150537662310-/4+
Lord of Change160846646310-/4+
Keeper of Secrets160737644510-/4+

Number/squad: 1

Weapons: Although they may carry weapons, the effectiveness of Greater Daemons is exactly as shown on the profile above.

Options: Greater Daemons may not select from the Chaos Armoury except for Major and Minor psychic powers. See the Sorcerer special rule for more details.

Character: Each Greater Daemon is an independent character and follows all the Independent Character special rules as given in the Warhammer 40,000 rulebook except those relating to being shot at. Because of their sheer size it is always possible to fire at a Greater Daemon even if it has joined a unit or is within 6" of another viable target.

Transport: A Greater Daemon may not ride in a transport vehicle.

Special Rules

Possession: A Greater Daemon must possess another model to enter the battlefield. See the Daemon special rules for more details.

Fearsome: Greater Daemons have the Daemonic Visage Daemonic Ability.

Fearless: Greater Daemons never take Morale checks, never fall back and cannot be pinned.

Monstrous Creature: Greater Daemons are huge and powerful opponents. They roll 2D6 for Armour Penetration and ignore their opponents' armour saves in close combat.

Invulnerable: Greater Daemons are unnatural creatures, made from the very stuff of Chaos itself and are therefore very difficult to destroy. They may therefore made an Invulnerable save against all wounds they take, even those that would normally permit no save.

Bloodthirsters are martial daemons clad in the brass armour of Khorne. They, of all the Greater Daemons, receive a 3+ armour save as well as a 4+ Invulnerable save and may choose which to use against any attack.

Daemonic Gifts: A Keeper of Secrets has the Warp Scream ability (see Book of Slaanesh). A Great Unclean One has the Nurgling Infestation and Nurgle's Rot abilities (see Book of Nurgle). The Bloodthirster and the Lord of Change have wings. This allows them to move as if they had the Daemonic Flight ability. Because of their strength and power, a winged Greater Daemon does not have to take a test if it lands in difficult terrain.

Sorcerers: All Greater Daemons, except the Bloodthirster, have psychic powers. Each may select any one psychic power from the Chaos Armoury at no cost. They may have additional Minor Psychic Abilities at the normal points cost.

Living Icons: Greater Daemons are all aligned with one of the Chaos Gods; Bloodthirsters server Khorne, Great Unclean Ones serve Nurgle, Keepers of Secrets serve Slaanesh and Lords of Change serve Tzeentch. Such is the power of Greater Daemons that each counts as an Icon of the deity they serve so lesser Daemons can be summoned adjacent to them.

Khornate Frenzy: A Bloodthirster must always assault and perform a sweeping advance whenever possible.

Chapter Approved 2004 (2003)

Nurgle forces versus Grey Knights

The Grey Knights' desperate effort to stop the ritual is too late.

Codex: Chaos Daemons (2008)

Great Unclean One

Codex: Chaos Daemons (2008), p30 — Great Unclean Ones: Nurgle's Lords of Bounteous Filth

The immense, bloated Greater Daemons of Nurgle tower above the babbling hordes of Nurgle like corpulent schoolmasters. Alternately jovial and stern, a Great Unclean One commands his legion with affectionate bellows of praise and bombastic cajoling. Fuelled by morbid energy, a Great Unclean One pays careful attention to all of his followers, delighting in the smallest boil, revelling in the variety and effulgence of their poxes. With gurgling guffaws, the Greater Daemon sends forth his legions with extravagant waves of his arms, extolling the virtues of plague and pestilence, booming words of encouragement or reproach across the battlefield.

It is not just the forthright personality of a Great Unclean One that gives him so much presence. Each is a huge creature shaped in the fashion of Nurgle; massively rotund, his fleshy form torn with rotting splits, his innards spilling into view as he strides forward. Clusters of buboes erupt from his green hide, birthing small swarms of Nurglings. Noxious juices seep from dozens of sores, leaving a glistening trail of mucus and filth in the Great Unclean One's wake. Fractured, lichen-mottled antlers sprout from the Great Unclean One's head, often hung with festive garlands of decaying intestines. Globules of yellowy-green spittle fly from his wide mouth as the Great Unclean One urges his minions onwards. Pallid maggots feed upon the Great Unclean One's exposed flesh, growing into furry, thick-bodied flies that form a dark swarm around the Greater Daemon. Filled with unholy vitality, a Great Unclean One is impervious to pain and physical wounds have little effect on it; plasma-burnt flesh quickly transforms into suppurating scars, bullet wounds become oozing pockmarks and tissue shredded by las-blasts forms into warty, crusted scabs.

As monstrous and horrific as his appearance is, a Great Unclean One is possessed of a paternal affection at odds with his nightmarish form. Gregarious and sentimental, a Great Unclean One takes pride in the achievements of his followers, and looks upon all the creatures in his legion as his 'children'. Driven to organise Nurgle's chaotic endeavours, the Great Unclean Ones seek to instil purpose and function on the daemonic rabble they command.

With vociferous proclamations, a Great Unclean One heaps praise upon those who spread disease and filth, who butcher the enemy and infect their corpses. With chiding grumbles, the Greater Daemon harries those who are tardy in advancing or who seem less energetic in the pursuit of Nurgle's goals.

Just as spreading disease and decay fills a Great Unclean One with jovial vigour, opposing Nurgle's great schemes rouses tremendous, righteous ire. Though ponderous, a Great Unclean One is all but unstoppable on the advance, wadinginto the enemy through even the fiercest firepower. Whether armed with a rusted plagueblade encrusted with the festering blood of thousands, or swinging a flail made of skulls filled with burning ichor, a Great Unclean One flattens its foes with its fury. The Great Unclean One unleashes its 'stream of corruption' against those that try to flee its wrath, vomiting forth a steaming tide of virulent filth, maggots and mucus that sweeps away the enemies of Chaos.

 WSBSSTWIALdSv
Great Unclean One6466524104+

Unit Type:
Monstrous Creature.
Daemonic Gifts:
Noxious Touch.
Special Rules:
Daemon, Slow & Purposeful, Feel No Pain.

Disciples of the Dark Gods (2008)

Great Unclean One

Great Unclean One

Mark of the Xenos (2011)

Mark of the Xenos (2011), p102-103 — Great Unclean One

"And there shall come seven plagues, and in them you shall read his works, writ in black bile and red ruin across the land. And he shall come amongst you; all shall feel his touch, and wither. In righteous joy, he bestows these gifts. Rejoice!"
— Imperial Astropath Sythia Zale, moments before her execution

Great Unclean Ones are the harbingers of Nurgle, god of rot and ruin - his greatest servants, bearers of his most sacred plagues and poxes. They are squat mountains of ruptured, roiling flesh, covered in open sores that weep with streams of pus. They burst through the veil with an ear-shattering howl of glee, delighted to walk the earth once more, spreading their bounty.

The Greater Daemons of Nurgle are not subtle. Their appearances on the mortal plane are heralded by disease and desolation on a planetary scale. If an incursion is left unchecked, whole worlds can go dark: their populations reduced by six-sevenths, their feeble leaders filthy and raving, their very cities collapsing around them. Through it all waddles the beaming, bile-slicked plague-father, bestowing his blessings, borne along on a living tide of chortling, chattering Nurglings. Great Unclean Ones are beings of decay and entropy made manifest, and before them the works of man are but castles made of sand, perched on the edge of a storm-wracked sea.

In battle, Great Unclean Ones wield enormous blades and maces of iron, crude, corroded cleavers and immense plague flails - each one dripping with pestilence.

Those that survive the wave of desolation that accompanies a Great Unclean One often become its faithful slaves. Wracked by disease, bloated by corpse gasses, stripped of their loved ones and surrounded by the dead and dying, many plague thralls give themselves over to their suffering, venerating and worshipping the very ailments that brought them low. Perversely, those who embrace Nurgle's foul contagions are made stronger by them, their ravaged bodies inured to pain, their rotting forms all but impervious to greater harm. The thriving colonies of bacteria gestating within their bloated bodies grant unholy regenerative abilities to their hosts, sealing gaping wounds in seconds and expanding ever-outward, until the creatures that were once men remain little more than disease-wracked shells, foetid human cauldrons of pox and pestilence.

Great Unclean Ones are always accompanied by - and infested with - thousands of gibbering, diminutive Nurglings, pint-sized daemons of mischief and malice who caper about madly, tongues lolling, their fat bodies supported by improbably spindly legs. Great Unclean Ones dote on these scabrous sprites, bouncing them on their knees and scratching behind their malformed ears. Even the rotting hulks of their bodies are colonized by Nurglings; these tiny creatures dwell in the burst carbuncles and rank wounds that cover a Great Unclean One, and particularly love to nest within its great, rent belly, burrowing deep inside the steaming intestines that hang in long, gore-slicked loops from its body. A Great Unclean One looks upon this cackling horde with munificence and paternal love, and Nurglings are quick to defend their "father" when he is threatened. Unwary foes are often dragged down by the murderous wave of shrieking, biting daemons that billows forth from the body of a Great Unclean One the instant it is attacked.

Natural-born carrion creatures also number among the Greater Daemon of Nurgle's faithful friends. Rats, vultures, worms, crows and sky-blackening clouds of flies trail in its jolly wake, hideously multiplied in both size and number.

Great Unclean Ones typically take the form of gargantuan, immensely fat humanoids, hot intestines dribbling out of huge tears in their enormous bellies. Their horrific girth is supported by two impossibly small and atrophied-looking legs, and their bulbous heads are crowned by the enormous antlers of a stag. Their suppurating, sore-covered bodies are host to every disease ever catalogued by man, and many more besides, and their stench can be detected from miles away. In perverse contrast with their appearance, their manner is jovial and kind; they are the very picture of mirth and good cheer. Even surrounded by the pitiful moaning of the sick and dying, they smile with pure-hearted benevolence, and their long, pus-coated tongues dangle from toothy face-splitting grins.

To look upon a Great Unclean One is to gaze upon the face of decay, to realize that all things must break down, must collapse and congeal, must rot and rust and fall to ruin, that the great works of man will one day vanish from the universe, and the stars themselves must one day die.

Great Unclean One (Master) Profile
WSBSSTAgIntPerWPFel
6442(18)65(21)77406143(12)6135

Movement: 4/8/12/24

Wounds: 273

Skills: Awareness (Per), Scrutiny (Per) +10, Search (Per), Forbidden Lore (Warp, Daemonology) (Int), Deceive (Fel), Speak Language (All known languages).

Talents: True Grit, Strong Minded, Bulging Biceps, Crushing Blow, Die Hard.

Traits: Crawler, Daemonic (TB 14), †Daemonic Presence, Dark Sight, Fear 4 (Terrifying), From Beyond, Regeneration (5), Size (Massive), Unnatural Strength (x3), Unnatural Toughness (x2), Unnatural Willpower (x2), Warp Instability.

†Daemonic Presence: All enemies within 25 metres of a Great Unclean One suffer a -20 penalty to Willpower Tests in the area.

Weapons: Tooth and Nail (1d10+21 R; Pen 2; Felling (2), Toxic), Plague Blade (2d10+21 R; Pen 6; Felling (2), Toxic).

Special Rules

Cloud of Flies: All those within 5 metres take a -10 penalty to Weapon Skill and Ballistic Skill Tests as choking clouds of buzzing, biting flies attack every exposed inch of flesh.

Lord of Decay: Great Unclean Ones often know a number of psychic powers; the GM should select any appropriate powers from the Deathwatch Rulebook and the Chaos Psychic Powers section on page 127.

Lord of Corruption: A Great Unclean One may inflict Righteous Fury. However, instead of rolling an additional 1d10 Damage, the victim instead suffers 1d10 permanent Toughness Damage.

Adventure Seeds

Aftermath: The Kill-team is sent to investigate the mysterious aftermath of a horrific industrial accident on an intensely-polluted Hive World. A chemical factory within one of the hives exploded, collapsing part of the structure and sending toxic fumes throughout the hive. Accidents of this nature are regrettable but far from uncommon, and ordinarily of concern to the rulers of the Hive world only in terms of lost production. This time, however, the contagion seems to be spreading, as level after level of the hive goes dark, all communication cut off. In reality, the accident was engineered by the secret servants of Nurgle to disguise the manifestation of a Great Unclean One, who now rules over the diseased cultists and gang members of the lower hive.

Prophecy: Deep within the vaults of Watch Fortress Erioch, the Kill-team discovers an ancient and long-forgotten prophecy warning of a Great Plague, destined to sweep through the Jericho Reach, reducing world after world to festering charnel houses of disease and decay. The prophecy seems to point to a great architect behind this plague, a creature that - if left unchecked - will soon put its dire plan into motion...

Addendum by Codicier Taelon

The stench. It is seared into my memory, above everything else. Dispatched to investigate the disappearance of another Kill-team near a small mining colony, we arrived on-world on a hot summer's day, and the smell nearly made me collapse. The entire colony had succumbed to some sort of great contagion; the white walls of their hab-units were slicked with blood and slime, and the bodies of the dead and dying were everywhere. My fears were confirmed when I encountered a group of survivors near the entrance to the mineshaft: they had given themselves over completely to the dark gods, chanting psalms and hymns to the leader, a figure they called "The Rotting King". Bolters took care of these plague-maddened miners, but deep within the bowels of that foetid mine we gave battle to their ruler - a hideous greater daemon of Nurgle. Despite the support of a Dreadnought and a double-strength Kill-team, I survived the battle with barely half of my Battle-Brothers intact... and many of those who lived would never be the same. I was lucky; my enviro-sealed armour kept the worst of the contagion at bay, and my body was strong enough to endure the rest. Even so, I was quarantined in Watch Fortress Erioch for a month before I was declared free of taint.

Black Crusade (2011)

Black Crusade (2011), p357 — Great Unclean One

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.

Great Unclean One (Master)
WSBSSTAgIntPerWPFelInf
494210562277215643702850

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 Jericho Reach (2012)

Great Unclean One

Codex: Chaos Daemons (2013)

Great Unclean One

Codex: Chaos Daemons (2013), p46 — Great Unclean Ones

Greater Daemons of Nurgle, Lords of Bounteous Filth

To the mortal eye, a Greater Daemon of Nurgle is undoubtedly the foulest of all the daemonic servants of the Ruinous Powers. Each of these Great Unclean Ones is shaped in the fashion of Nurgle himself; fly-blown, maggot-ridden innards spill into view through the tears and gashes in his swollen belly as he lumbers forwards. Clusters of pustules and weeping buboes erupt from his hide, birthing small swarms of giggling Nurglings. Noxious juices seep from dozens of infected sores, leaving a glistening trail of mucus in the Great Unclean One's wake. Few mortals have the stomach, let alone the will, to oppose such a being.

As monstrous and horrific as his appearance is, a Great Unclean One is possessed of a paternal affection at odds with his nightmarish form. Gregarious and sentimental, a Great Unclean One takes pride in the achievements of his followers and looks upon all the creatures in his legion as his 'children', just as they look upon him as an embodiment of Grandfather Nurgle. Each Greater Daemon pays careful attention to all of his followers, noticeably proud of their appearance and endearing behaviour. A Great Unclean One takes delight in his minions' smallest boils, revelling in the variety and effulgence of their poxes and heaping praise upon them with vociferous proclamations. The Great Unclean One sends forth his daemonic legions with extravagant waves of his arms, booming words of encouragement and gurgling guffaws across the battlefield. All Great Unclean Ones seem to have boundless energy and drive, constantly working to extend the process of rot and decay, thoughtless for their own comfort while parts of the galaxy still remain untouched by Nurgle's bounty.

Great Unclean Ones are motivated by all the trivial mortal enthusiasms that drive the living. They are ebullient and raucous, full of a natural impulse to organise and achieve. Driven to coordinate Nurgle's chaotic endeavours, a Great Unclean One seeks to instil purpose and function in the daemonic rabble under his command. Globules of yellowy-green spittle fly from his wide mouth as the Great Unclean One urges his minions onwards. With chiding grumbles, the Greater Daemon harries those who are tardy in advancing or who seem less energetic in the pursuit of the goals of Grandfather Nurgle.

Spreading plague and decay across the war zones of the galaxy fills a Great Unclean One with jovial vigour - after all, wounds and corpses are fecund breeding grounds for new diseases and new forms of life. Though ponderous, a Great Unclean One is all but unstoppable on the advance, shrugging off the bolts and blades of the foe as though they were naught but bothersome insects. With huge rusted weapons encrusted with putrid blood, a Great Unclean One flattens his victims with all the force its immense frame can muster, each selfless act of generosity warming its rotten heart. There is no escaping a Greater Daemon of Nurgle's gifts, for each is a potent psyker. By breathing deeply of the festering powers of the Warp, he can summon a pestilent wind to wither his foes into diseased piles of flesh or vomit forth a steaming tide of filth, maggots and mucus that sweeps away his enemies.

 WSBSSTWIALdSv
Great Unclean One63676459-

Unit Type: Monstrous Creature (Character).

Special Rules: Daemon of Nurgle (pg 26), Daemonic Instability (pg 26), Deep Strike, Poisoned (4+), Psyker (Mastery Level 1).

Psyker: A Great Unclean One generates his powers from the Biomancy and Plague disciplines.

'Let root rot and bower blight, to feed the plague of fortune.'
— Aghalhor, Bringer of Poxes, Greater Daemon of Nurgle

Warhammer 40,000: Stronghold Assault (2013)

Warhammer 40,000: Stronghold Assault (2013) — The Fellguard Incident

When the fortress world of Kelthorn voiced its allegiance to Chaos in 452999.M41, dozens of Imperial Guard regiments were sent to crush the traitors. However, the enemy held the planet's fortifications, defences that the Imperium itself had built to withstand alien invasion, and the war devolved into a planet-wide siege.

The Siege of Fellguard

Lacking adequate air cover, armour or artillery support, the task of rooting out the traitors fell to the Imperial Guard's infantry regiments. Amongst these were the Cadian 39th under the command of Castellan Blakov, hero of the Perides Crusade. The 39th had earned a reputation after taking Helvane Stronghold with a frontal assault, and when orders came to storm the planetary capital, Fellguard, they led the vanguard in an attack that would define the war.

Fellguard's defences were the sternest the Cadians had yet encountered. Networks of defence lines, tank traps, bunkers and bastions surrounded the capital, every approach guarded with weapon emplacements. Despite this, the 39th's first push captured the outer perimeter in short order, Cadians swarming over defence lines with lasguns firing, bayonets pinning the few survivors against the walls.

These defence lines were produced on the shrine world of Arabella's Hope, and the presence of Chaos within their hallowed grounds would not be abided by the pious men of the Cadian 39th. As soon as the trace of Chaos was purged, the walls were re-consecrated by regimental priests so that the souls of the martyrs whose bones were built within their foundations would again know peace.

The Taking of Bastion Beta-3

Buoyed by this success, Blakov ordered his men to assault Fellguard's next defence, Bastion Beta-3. However, whilst the outer perimeter was poorly manned, this edifice was not. The 39th leapt over their re-sanctified barricades and charged headlong into no-man's land, the Bastion standing like a vast tombstone over a war-torn grave. Dozens of Guardsmen fell to enemy fire, but forwards still the 39th ran, the shouts of their Commissars urging them on. Thunderous barrages landed amidst the Cadian forces; fire, mud and bodies were blasted skywards by the force of the explosions. More Cadians were knocked off their feet; ears ringing and senses numbed, they stumbled into the teeth of the enemy's guns. After only a few minutes, the dead and dying lay spread across the quagmire between the Imperium's lines and the Bastion ahead, but still the 39th kept running.

Castellan Blakov was amongst the first to reach the bastion, throwing himself flat against its wall beside the remnants of 8th Squad. Blakov paused only a second to catch his breath before priming a grenade and throwing it through one of the Bastion's vision slits. The defenders' guns fell silent as cries of alarm went up, only to be replaced a second later by booming detonations and the screams of the dying. To Blakov's right, a flamer-armed Guardsman poured sheets of fire through the building, turning the remaining occupants into charred corpses. 8th Squad's melta bomb breached the Bastion's bulkhead an instant later, and the Cadians were in. The interior was a charnel house. The 39th wasted no time; weapon systems were reactivated and burnt cadavers were kicked away from firing slits as the new owners manned the fire ports, guns levelled towards the enemy's lines as they awaited the inevitable counter-attack.

A Forlorn Hope

The Cadians didn't have to wait long before a wave of screaming Cultists bore down upon their position. Automated bolters were already spitting death into the approaching horde and, from the battlements, came the distinctive crack of las-sniper fire, every shot sending another Cultist spinning into the muck. A few autoguns barked and bullets pattered against the bastion's walls. In reply, the Cadians' first volley of lasfire tore through the Cultists' front ranks. The second caused their charge to falter, and the third sent them reeling back towards their own lines.

A lone figure emerged through the haze of gunfire, its eyes blazing with an unholy light. With a gesture, lightning leaped from its hands and engulfed the Cadians on the battlements, and the Guardsmen beside Blakov muttered a single word under their breath - 'Psyker'. Another bolt of lightning struck the bastion, the blast dislodging a support beam that fell and crushed trooper Irvan. Another scream followed, but this time from outside the Bastion. Blakov peered through a hatch to see the sorcerer on his knees, hands clutched to his head. The sky blackened, even though there wasn't a cloud for miles, and the psyker began to burn with an incandescent light in the gathering dark. His scream was violently cut short as he exploded, showering the battlefield with a fountain of gore that hissed and ate into the ground where it fell. For an instant, Blakov thought the danger was over - then the true nightmare began.

The Hour of Hell

Wherever the psyker's remains stained the ground, disease-caked figures clambered up from beneath the mud, whilst red-skinned terrors emerged from the pools of crimson blood. The Cultists, witnessing this dark miracle, left the shelter of their own bunkers and swept forwards to slay the Cadians besides the daemonic allies they believed had been sent to them by the Chaos Gods. They were sorely mistaken, and their cries of praise and joy turned to shrieks of disbelief and terror as the Daemons tore into them, rusted swords and ebony blades carving through flesh with abandon. In the face of such horror, Blakov knew the 39th could not hold the Bastion and so he reluctantly ordered his men to fall back to Fellguard's outer perimeter. All but 8th Squad retreated, the survivors vowing to hold Beta-3 for as long as possible to buy their comrades time. Blakov saluted their courage and left to regroup his regiment.

When Blakov reached friendly lines, he turned to see a giant, plague-bloated Daemon stride towards the bastion. Heavy weapons tore chunks of diseased flesh from its body, but the Daemon just chuckled before vomiting a stream of bile through the Bastion's fire port, drowning 8th Squad in filth. Ducking back, Blakov touched one of the skulls built into the defence line, its surface inscribed with the sigil of the Ecclesiarchy, and he whispered a prayer to the Emperor. With his resolve and sense of duty restored, Blakov ordered his men to make ready.

The Might of Martyrs

The Daemons butchered the Cultists occupying Fellguard, slaughtering their so-called allies to a man before turning their gaze towards the Cadian 39th. As they advanced, volleys of bright las-rounds lit up the gloom, gouging deep burns into Warp flesh wherever they hit. At the head of the daemonic horde strode the Great Unclean One that had slain 8th Squad. Its phlegm-riddled voice urged its minions onwards, and at its command they bounded over the Imperium's defence lines, heedless of the number that fell to the clattering fire of autocannons as they charged.

The Daemons recoiled as their clawed feet touched the hallowed ground of the Wall of Martyrs. Though they faltered for only a second, it was enough for the Cadians to cut the first invaders down with point-blank bursts of lasfire. Flamers scoured those trenches that were overrun, and soon hellish screams and the smell of burning meat filled the air. But the Daemons came on still, falling upon the Cadians with sweeping arcs of their blades, which separated heads and opened bellies with every cut. The fighting grew desperate, but the Cadians refused to give ground, willing to die rather than allow the Daemons to taint the holy bulwark.

It was then that the Daemon warlord loomed over Blakov, its sword sweeping down in an arc that would have killed him had a Commissar not pushed him aside at the last moment. The rusted blade carved through the Commissar, a tide of maggots spilling from his two halves as his innards instantly putrefied. Blakov, who had been knocked to the ground, lost his weapon and frantically searched the corpse of a nearby Guardsman as the Great Unclean One grabbed hold of him. Blakov's grip had just tightened on a handle when pain wracked him, his bones breaking beneath the Daemon's iron grip as he was lifted up. The smell of the creature's foetid breath made Blakov gag, but as he was drawn towards the Daemon's maw to be eaten alive he saw, through a ragged gash in its chest, the black lump of flesh it had for a heart. Blakov twisted the primer on the melta bomb clutched in his hand and, with one last effort, thrust it into the wound. In an instant, Blakov and the Daemon were vaporised. The Daemon army roared in unison, their forms dissolving as their grip on the mortal plane was suddenly severed. As swiftly as the nightmare had begun, it ended.

The survivors of the Cadian 39th retook the now unguarded Fellguard without further incident, but no records exist of their actions, all knowledge of their deeds placed under an Inquisitorial seal. All that remains of the 39th's sacrifice is a thrice-blessed silver skull, the perfect replica of Castellan Blakov's, placed by his troops alongside the mortal remains of the other martyrs that still throng Fellguard's defences.

Codex: Imperial Knights (2014)

Codex: Imperial Knights (2014) — 230.M41 The Tarsok Incursion

Knights of House Taranis battle a daemonic incursion on the world of Tarsok V, taking the fight to the towering Great Unclean One that leads the daemonic horde. Wading through a tide of Plaguebearers, Seneschal Halver's Knights advance on the corpulent horror while billowing clouds of flies sizzle against their ion shields and form drifts about their feet. The daemonic lord drowns one Knight in a tide of bile, and crushes two more beneath its weeping bulk. Yet the Knights' reaper chainswords carve through its rancid flesh and with a final, gurgling roar the Great Unclean One is banished. The remaining Daemons fade slowly from view, leaving the planet's surviving defenders to count the cost.

The Tome of Decay (2014)

Great Unclean One

The Tome of Decay (2014), p13 — Servants of the Great Paradox

Great Unclean Ones

Plague Lords, Fly Masters, Stench Lords of Nurgle

Greater Daemons of all Chaos Gods go by many names, each tending to emphasise a particular aspect of these terrible beings, but only Great Unclean Ones have the distinction of being allowed to use the name of their master as an appellation of their own. This may lend some credence to the ravings of those who claim to have beheld Nurgle's grand form. If the hysterical outbursts of these broken souls are to be believed, their accountings of the appearance of the Plaguefather are remarkably similar to those given by mortals who have beheld an actual Great Unclean One and lived to recount the horror to others. Vast and rotund, oozing filth and corruption, leaving decay and foulness in their wake, the physical form of the Great Unclean Ones serves to terrify the foes of Nurgle and to remind his followers of the magnificent god that has blessed them with the strength to persevere in the face of such overwhelming bodily corruption.

These Stench Lords are Nurgle's favoured children; his blessed emissaries and trusted lieutenants. In battle, they lead his armies as generals and devastatingly powerful warriors. They gestate the countless Nurglings that continually crawl out from within their corpulent forms. They travel the galaxy, housing their master's many plagues deep inside their cauldron-like guts, brewing the foul concoctions to perfect potency before finally ripping open their own bellies and disgorging the virulent contents upon Nurgle's chosen recipients. As macabre master gardeners and wardens of woe, they tend to the decaying plant life and diseased animals of the Garden of Nurgle, while also ensuring that the Plaguebearers and other denizens of the Garden do their part in bestowing Grandfather Nurgle's gifts on the galaxy.

Great Unclean One

Codex: Imperial Knights (2015)

Codex: Imperial Knights (2015), p18 — 230.M41 Incursion

Knights of House Taranis battle a daemonic incursion on Tarsok V, taking the fight to the towering Great Unclean One that leads the otherworldly horde. Despite heavy losses, the Knights are, at last, triumphant. A bitter new enemy has been made.

Enemies Beyond (2016)

Enemies Beyond (2016), p119 — Bringers of Decay: The Pantheon of Nurgle

Great Unclean One

The Greater Daemons of Nurgle are said to closely represent their patron god: massive, loathsome creatures made of rotting flesh, burrowing maggots, infesting Nurglings, and diseased buboes that invoke retching horror in all that witness their terrifying appearance. Despite their horrific visages, these Daemons are jovial and enthusiastic, just like Grandfather Nurgle itself. They eagerly lead their minions to greet new friends, spreading filth and plagues wherever they go. That few survive such encounters is of little care, for thanks to the blessings of Nurgle's Rot these sluggards soon rise as energetic Plaguebearers to join the Plague Lord's cause. Often, a Great Unclean One takes a particular liking to mortals who catch its pox-ridden eye, and bestows gifts on them through the years. Many in the Askellian Ordo Malleus speculate that this is the hidden source of Poxifex Spengh's power within the Callers of Sorrow in Hive Desoleum.

Great Unclean One (Master)
WSBSSTAgIntPerWPFelIfl
49425610982221564371114773

Wounds: 230

Armour: Head 28, Arms 32, Body 34, Legs 32

Movement: 5/10/15/30

Threat: 79

Great Plague Sword: Class Melee, Rng -, RoF -, Dmg 2d10+177+SB (R), Pen 6, Clip -, Rld -, Wt 20kg, Avl UN, Corrosive, Power Field, Toxic (4)

Skills: Awareness (Per) +10, Command (Fel), Intimidate (S) +20, Parry (WS), Psyniscience (Per) +20, Scrutiny (Per), Survival (Per)

Talents: Nowhere to Hide, Thunder Charge

Traits: Baneful Presence (40), Daemonic (4), Dark-sight, Fear (4), From Beyond, Nauseating, Psyker (PR 7), Regeneration (5), Size (7), Stuff of Nightmares, Sturdy, Unnatural Strength (5), Unnatural Toughness (9), Unnatural Willpower (4), Warp Instability

Psyker: A Great Unclean One can use any 4 powers from the Biomancy discipline, plus the power Nurgle's Rot (see page 406 of the Dark Heresy Core Rulebook).

Gear: Ironrust armour

Nurglings!: A Great Unclean One is always covered with Nurglings, who grow and caper amidst the folds of rotting flesh that cover its body. Once per encounter, as a Full Action a Great Unclean One can release 1d5 Nurglings (see page 416 of the Dark Heresy Core Rulebook) to further spread the Grandfather's blessings. These lesser Daemons fight together as a group starting in the following round.

Embodiment of Decay: Proximity to a Great Unclean One's unnatural corpulence can rust and degrade even the strongest materials. While within 20 metres of this Greater Daemon, all equipment, weaponry, and armour functions as though it were of Poor craftsmanship, regardless of its actual craftsmanship or even if it has the Sanctified quality.

Index: Chaos (2017)

Index: Chaos (2017), p67 — Daemon Hierarchy

 KhorneTzeentchNurgleSlaanesh
Greater Daemons Bloodthirsters
Fists of Khorne
Guardians of the Throne
Blooded Ones
Lords of Change
The Eyes of Tzeentch
The Feathered Lords
The Watching
Great Unclean Ones
Plague Lords
Fly Masters
Stench Lords
Keepers of Secrets
Slayers of Slaanesh
Feasters of Pain
Despoilers of the Flesh
Heralds Heralds of Khorne

Skulltaker
Heralds of Tzeentch

The Changeling
Heralds of Nurgle

Epidemius
Heralds of Slaanesh

The Masque
Lesser Daemons Bloodletters
Khorne's Chosen
Teeth of Death
Takers of Skulls
Pink Horrors
Whirling Destroyers
Squealers


Blue Horrors
Spinning Sourguts
Grumblers


Brimstone Horrors
Plaguebearers
Maggotkin
Nurgle's Tallymen


Nurglings
Pus Spores
Mites of Nurgle
Daemonettes
Children of Slaanesh
Bringers of Joyous Degradation
Seekers of Decadence
Daemonic Beasts Flesh Hounds
Hunters of Blood
Flesh-Renders


Juggernauts of Khorne
Soul Crushers
Flamers of Tzeentch
Burning Horrors
Fire Daemons


Screamers
Sky-sharks of Tzeentch
Discs of Tzeentch
Beasts of Nurgle
Slime Hounds
Nurgle's Lapdogs
Fiends of Slaanesh
Bestials
Unholy Ones


Steeds of Slaanesh
Tongue Lashers
Degraded Ones
 Daemon Princes
Soul Grinders
Furies
Skarbrand

Index: Chaos (2017), p88 — Daemons of Nurgle

The sky darkens with noxious clouds and the land sickens and withers as the Daemons of Nurgle lumber into battle. Unnatural plagues billow about them. Slime and toxins drip from their blades and claws. Warped bells toll and bloated flies buzz, filling the air with a droning din as the hideous slaughter begins...

Nurgle's Daemons spill into realspace in thronging masses, surrounded by swirling clouds of bloated plague flies. The endless droning of these insects provides a fitting accompaniment to the constant muttering of thousands of Plaguebearers, as they attempt to catalogue the full breadth of the Lord of Decay's manifold concoctions. Unhurried and uncaring of the enemy fire that splatters off their corpulent forms, they march towards the foe with implacable menace. Cackling Nurglings caper about the ankles of their larger fellows - once battle is joined these diminutive Daemons spill over the enemy in an irrepressible tide, giggling and chortling to each other as they bite and scratch at mortal flesh, before dribbling their infectious toxins into open wounds. Grossly malformed creatures covered in caustic slime and rippling with virulent poxes, Beasts of Nurgle bound playfully alongside the plague-ridden Tallybands, while Plague Drones wheel overhead, mounted upon their monstrous Rot Flies. In the midst of this poxridden tide lumbers the colossal, bloated bulk of a Great Unclean One, its flyblown, pus-dripping body an embodiment of the Plague God's fearsome constitution. The slug-like tongue of this Greater Daemon lolls from its gaping maw as it chortles in delight, urging its children onwards to spread Nurgle's bountiful maladies amongst the unenlightened masses.

The Plague God

[...]

Most exalted amongst Nurgle's ranks are the Great Unclean Ones, horrifically repulsive creatures whose maggot-ridden flesh is rife with sores and pus-dripping lesions, and whose entrails protrude obscenely from swollen bellies. Possessed of rusted blades encrusted with putrid blood, and able to summon pestilential winds and tides of filth and mucus, the Great Unclean Ones lead Nurgle's children in their grand task of spreading disease and decay across the galaxy.

An army of Nurgle Daemons

The putrescent hordes of Nurgle are led to battle by mountainous Great Unclean Ones, creatures strong enough to crush a tank.