Tubes and pipes erupt in profusion from the Lord of Virulence’s armour. These gout noxious fumes are putrid eruptions whose hue and stench guide the fire of artillery engines behind the lines. In their wake, their flensefrond cloaks leave a trail of sickening mucosal slime for hungry Daemon Engines to follow.
Dark Apostles make up the priesthood of the Dark Gods. Just as the Chaplains of the loyalist Space Marines uphold the creeds of their Chapters, the Dark Apostles devote their lives to the propagation of the unholy word, actively spreading the worship of Chaos across the galaxy.
Shambling across the battlefield in reeking hordes, Poxwalkers engulf their enemies in rotting tides of grasping hands, gnashing teeth and squirming tentacles. They are the cursed victims of Nurgle’s plagues, transformed into unliving weapons by the cruel masters of the Death Guard.
Chaos Lords are the most powerful of the Chaos Space Marines. With the genetic advantages of a Space Marine and the blessings of the Dark Gods there are few more dangerous entities in the galaxy. This Lord is clad in Terminator armour and can be armed with a variety of weapons.
Sworn to Nurgle’s service, Plague Marines have disgusting, rotted bodies that stink of decay.
Sworn to Nurgle’s service, Plague Marines have disgusting, rotted bodies that stink of decay.
The great labour of the Death Guard is to spread Nurgle’s bounteous gift to every corner of realspace.
Sinister, hooded figures, Plague Surgeons drift through the mayhem of battle like ghoulish spectres of death.
The worshippers of the Dark Gods know that there is power in words and numbers, incantations and arcane numerology. Seven is the unholy number of Nurgle, and the preachers of this doctrine are the Tallymen.
A revolting stench wafts around the Foul Blightspawn, his corruption clotting the air itself. Breath rattles through pus-slick tubes as he cranks the rusted handle of his malignant churn, bellows wheezing and plague slop roiling in the incubatum upon his back.
Sorcerers of Chaos shape the destiny of the galaxy with forbidden rituals and unspeakable pacts. They channel the soul-blasting energies of the warp into potent hexes and blasts of flame, as they mould the material universe with little more than a hate-filled curse.
Amidst the thunderous tumult of battle, a Master of Executions strides unflinchingly forwards, his mind focused on the gruesome decapitations he will soon administer.