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In the Warhammer 40,000 setting, Noxious Blightbringers are champions of the Death Guard that demoralise their opponents with the tolling of their Tocsin of Misery.
Amongst a stinking miasma of infectious gases, the legions of Nurgle advance with slow but unstoppable momentum. The air fills with the drone of bloated flies and chanting Plaguebearers, their vile chorus punctuated by the crash and roar of gunfire.
The warped tolling of monstrous bells announces the coming of the Noxious Blightbringers. With every dolorous peal, splinters of madness and despair are driven into the minds of the foe, an ague of the soul leeching their vitality and leaving them nigh catatonic in the face of death.
Heralds of pestilence and misery, Noxious Blightbringers pace solemnly before the Death Guard advance. They proclaim the arrival of Mortarion's sons through the tolling of their rusted Tocsins of Misery, hell-forged bells of massive size whose peals ring through both reality and the warp.
The primary role of Noxious Blightbringers is to sow disarray and weakness amidst the enemy ranks. The dissonance of their chiming bells sends waves of entropy rolling across the battlefield to batter not only the enemy's physical senses, but their souls also. The blessings of Nurgle manifest wherever the tocsins' waves hit home, each thunderous toll wearing the foe down a little more and spreading sickness and corruption. The enemy's will to fight erodes as their muscles fester and their strength leaves them. Faith and conviction are spider-webbed with cracks of doubt. Bones and organs shudder and turn green with furring growths.
In close proximity, the empyric peals that roll from the Noxious Blightbringers torment enemy psykers. Not only must these unfortunates deal with the violent waves that threaten to overwhelm their tighty controlled abilities, but they must also face the corruption of the very powers they wield. Gnawing warp maggots wriggle into being within the minds of those psykers who show weakness, chewing hungrily upon their new hosts' sanity until the victim is driven irrevocably mad.
Where the tolling of the tocsins corrodes the spirits of the Death Guard's enemies, it instils fresh vitality in the Legion's own warriors. Mortarion's sons move with a vigour at odds with their rotting bulk wherever they follow the Noxious Blightbringers into battle, rusted joints grating and rotting guts swaying as they pound into combat.
To be gifted with a Tocsin of Misery is a great honour, bestowed by Mortarion himself upon only the most cruel and corrupt of his sons. Potent warriors in their own right, each Noxious Blightbringer becomes a living canker who revels in the spreading of disease and sorrow.
The Death Guard lumber and stomp to war amongst a throng of flies, plague spreading unbound before them.