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Sonorous chanting and the dull knell of bells herald the arrival of Nurgle's Plaguebearers. Surrounded by a buzzing swarm of flies, the Plaguebearers shuffle forwards, their bodies broken and twisted with morbidity. Bloated stomachs tear through paper-thin skin, showing glistening guts dripping with foetid liquids. Rheumy, cyclopean eyes stare from haggard, ravaged faces topped by a single broken horn blackened with filth. Gangling, bony limbs propel the Plaguebearers forward in a staggering lope, fuelled by the energy of decay. In their hands the Plaguebearers grasp rusted blades; Plagueswords dripping with noxious infection.
The constant humming of flies is mixed with the monotonal chants of the Lesser Daemons of Nurgle; each attempting to count the number of plagues, diseases and poxes gifted to the universe by great Nurgle. These are the Tallymen of Nurgle, eternally bound to record all of the Plague God's pestilential gifts. It is an impossible task, for Nurgle's bountiful enthusiasm knows no bounds and every day sees new strains of viruses and freshly evolved bacteria spreading across the realm of mortals. In hidden laboratories, the whispers of Nurgle's wisdom fills the minds of depraved scientists who create ever-more debilitating illnesses to inflict upon their enemies. Within rotting mounds of corpses Nurgle's eternal energy creates new fungal spores and births new breeds of necrotic bacilli.
The Plaguebearers are solemn, efficient fighters whose Plagueswords can fell the mightiest enemies with a single infected cut. Unfeeling of pain, Plaguebearers fight with a grim vigour that traps their foes in a gruelling war of attrition - a war that only the servants of the Lord of Decay can win.
Plaguebearers are formed from the energy of mortals that died from Nurgle's Rot, the Lord of Decay's most virulent and deadly blessing. The souls of those infected by this disease are slowly leeched into Nurgle's realm, appearing as warty seed pods growing from the cracked branches of gloomy willows. Each pod swells and ripens as the Nurgle's Rot destroys its host in the real world and the nascent Plaguebearer feeds upon the victim's dying energies.
These pods emit a sickly aroma whilst turning into a pustule of excreta within which writhes the growing Plaguebearer. When fully matured, the podule drops into the mulch and the newly created Plaguebearer tears himself from the leathery cocoon A mortal who resists the ravages of the Nurgle's Rot for a significant period creates an equally long incubation period for their resultant Daemon, and this will grow into a Herald of Nurgle; a larger, tougher and more disgusting individual amongst the deformed masses of the Plaguebearers.
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"All things must wither and die. Let root rot and bower blight, to feed the pestilence of abandoned hope."
— Aghalhor the Bringer of Poxes
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