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Nostag Champion of Nurgle looked at the Death Head. Once it had adorned the shoulders of Doras Varn, the most handsome of all Champions of Slaanesh. Nostag took a firm grip on the waxy orb, thinking as he did so how Doras' famous profile had lost much of its boyish charm. He lobbed the object high into the air, watching with satisfaction as it sailed into the enemy ranks.
The dark object spun through the air and smashed onto the naked pate of Gorban Champion of Khorne, spattering blood and pus over his luckless followers. Gorban reeled as the putrid stuff burned into his face.
"Khorne," he cried, "Pity me!" But it was too late. He felt his flesh churning with the foul energy of the Death Head and knew he was doomed.
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