Powering into battle on a trio of articulated track units, the Myphitic Blight-hauler is a light Daemon Engine that provides the Death Guard with heavy firepower wherever it is needed.
It is the Tidecasters who conjure the phantasmal sea that allows aelf and aquatic beast to move and breathe as if they were in their own natural environment.
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.
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.
The exceptional men and women of the French Resistance were fiercely patriotic citizens who risked everything to fight back against the occupying German Forces. From sowing disinformation or assassinating German personnel and collaborators, to direct attacks on German infrastructure, they prevented thousands of German troops from fighting the Allies on the frontlines.
The French army started World War II as the most powerful army in the world. Well-equipped, with excellent tanks and artillery, the infantry divisions were numerous and confident of fighting off the hated Boche as they had twenty two years before. This was not the same war though, and the French infantrymen found themselves all too often fighting off German armoured units which had outmanoeuvred them as the Blitzkrieg rolled across Europe.
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.