October
Wednesday 24 September 2008 photo 4/5
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"I see you, your wretched race, your arrogant pride, The foolshiness you show in the career you choose, of sword over scroll and the terror that lies in wait to punish your ignorance..
I hear you, your pathetic thoughts, thinking your self free, thinking yourelf clever, as your feeble cries for help are drowned, by your last gasp of life..
I smell you, the stench of fear that envelops you, as you try to contorl the winds of chaos, your frail mind desperate to comprehend the complexity you've unleashed and the consequences of your actions you must now face..
I feel you, grovelling in the dirt, coming closer...to your fate."
- Grandfather Nurgle, the Lord of Decay.
The Land of Nurgle:
While the mortal realm is laid waste by blight and pestilence, the lands of nurgle thrive on disease and corruption. Tended by the dark lord of decay, this unwholesome realm is home to every pox and affliction imaginable and foetid with the stench of rot.
Nurgle, one of the dark gods of chaos:
Nurgle, lord of decay and disease. His huge body and frame is made up entirely of slime, rotting corpses and garbage as well as any other unpleasant things you can imagine.
An oddity of chaos, Nurgle is almost jovial in his spreading of plauges, seeing them as "gifts" to those infected. With his millions of viral toxins available, he sees them as almost an evolution, seemingly striving to better those who would follow him by poisoning them over vast periods of time. As such, has gained the nickname "Grandfather Nurgle" by his followers.
The followers of Nurgle are the plaguebearers. Small versions of Nurgle or bits broken off him grown into Nurglings, festering growths wrought with teeth, claws and pestilence.
Among his agents, the most vile and disgusting are the Great Unclean Ones. Armed with a plague sword dipped in the fetid pools beneath Nurgle himself, and massive girth and durability from aeons of infection, they are the living embodiment of Nurgle on the battle field. Being greater daemons, they are very capable of not only spreading Nurgle's plauges, but striking fear in the most stalwart of commanders due the sheer size and power they possess.
All things must wither and die. Let root rot and bower blight, to feed the pestilence of abandoned hope..
I hear you, your pathetic thoughts, thinking your self free, thinking yourelf clever, as your feeble cries for help are drowned, by your last gasp of life..
I smell you, the stench of fear that envelops you, as you try to contorl the winds of chaos, your frail mind desperate to comprehend the complexity you've unleashed and the consequences of your actions you must now face..
I feel you, grovelling in the dirt, coming closer...to your fate."
- Grandfather Nurgle, the Lord of Decay.
The Land of Nurgle:
While the mortal realm is laid waste by blight and pestilence, the lands of nurgle thrive on disease and corruption. Tended by the dark lord of decay, this unwholesome realm is home to every pox and affliction imaginable and foetid with the stench of rot.
Nurgle, one of the dark gods of chaos:
Nurgle, lord of decay and disease. His huge body and frame is made up entirely of slime, rotting corpses and garbage as well as any other unpleasant things you can imagine.
An oddity of chaos, Nurgle is almost jovial in his spreading of plauges, seeing them as "gifts" to those infected. With his millions of viral toxins available, he sees them as almost an evolution, seemingly striving to better those who would follow him by poisoning them over vast periods of time. As such, has gained the nickname "Grandfather Nurgle" by his followers.
The followers of Nurgle are the plaguebearers. Small versions of Nurgle or bits broken off him grown into Nurglings, festering growths wrought with teeth, claws and pestilence.
Among his agents, the most vile and disgusting are the Great Unclean Ones. Armed with a plague sword dipped in the fetid pools beneath Nurgle himself, and massive girth and durability from aeons of infection, they are the living embodiment of Nurgle on the battle field. Being greater daemons, they are very capable of not only spreading Nurgle's plauges, but striking fear in the most stalwart of commanders due the sheer size and power they possess.
All things must wither and die. Let root rot and bower blight, to feed the pestilence of abandoned hope..
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