NURGLE, LORD OF DECAY
Known also as Nurglitch, Onogal, Neiglen and by many other titles, Nurgle is the Lord of Decay. It is he who unleashes famines and pestilence upon the world, and so it is to Nurgle that mortals turn when they wish protection from the ravages of disease, age and the inevitable decline brought by the passing years. When the crops are spoilt, when a child falls feverish and when wounds begin to fester on the field of battle, supplications are offered to Nurgle for him to stay his hand.

To his followers, Nurgle appears as a massively bloated creature, festering with boils, poxes and surrounded by a dark cloud of flies, each of which carries the symbol of the god upon its carapace. His skin is rent and torn, and from his exposed guts spill the Nurglings, the spiteful mites of Nurgle. Nurgle is said to delight in every new pox, every unique rash and blister, and of all the gods takes the most interest in the plight of his mortal followers.

Nurgle is portrayed as a kindly, almost jovial god, known often as Father or Grandfather Nurgle. While foolish non-believers may moan, gnash their teeth and pull their hair when plague sweeps the lands, and villages and towns tumble into ruins, those dedicated to Nurgle laugh to see the great works of their master. They have accepted the futility of defying Nurgle and the inescapable dilapidation that he brings, and instead embrace the delights of decay and disease, the pleasures of entropy and ruin.

He bestows his gifts of pestilence and decay with a generous spirit. Nurgle's Champions, ravaged by disease, are themselves protected from such plagues, for they become inured to the pain and discomfort, and while their bodies may corrupt, the spirit of Nurgle sustains them when lesser mortals would die. Thus the Champions of Nurgle can endure wounds and afflictions that would cripple others, and yet still fight on in his name. They are horrific to look upon, more so even than other Champions of Chaos, for their peeling flesh, their stomachs bloated with corpse-gases and their charnel stench is a reminder of the fate that awaits all living creatures.