The Blight - Death Guard 1st Company

[Brother Kraskor]

+++ Opening Officio Medicae Report +++

 

++ Clearance: Zulu Alpha ++

 

+ Disease Risk Analysis: Extremely Severe +

 

 

+ Designation: 'The Blight' +

 

 

Transmission: Airborne, waterborne, and by touch, the Blight is highly transmissible.

 

Initial Symptoms: Irritation of skin and eyes, loss of full range of mobility, muscle weakness, disorientation. Initial symptoms are relatively mild compared to once the incubation period is complete, and despite efforts to catch the Blight at this early stage, efforts at treatment to halt the progression to its Terminal Symptoms have thus far met with limited success.

 

Terminal Symptoms: As the Blight takes hold, the host's body is completely rewired. Muscles undergo severe atrophy, and then subsequently explosive regrowth, causing a buckling of the spine and a irrevocably hunched posture. Skin discolours and thins, stretched across the new unnatural muscle structure. Multiple organ failure soon follows, and the disease itself takes over the failed organs' functions in keeping its host alive. Finally brain function completely breaks down, and the host loses all rationality and memory, and is overwhelmed by an insatiable desire to feast on live flesh. 

 

Known strains: Only one strain of the Blight has been identified.

 

Lethality: Host bodies are able to survive the Blight for weeks, nevertheless its final lethality rate is believed to be 100%.

 

Treatment: Isolate and purge.

 

 

++ Report ends ++

 

 

 

Well-met brothers! Here is the start of a Death Guard plog. And to kick things off, 20 Poxwalkers:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Edited April 9, 2021 by Brother Kraskor

[Brother Kraskor]

Hidden away in some festering corner of the Terminus Est, a conclave of the fabled Deathshroud was in session. It was the first meeting of its like in centuries, and possessed an uncharacteristic vitality, an unseemly vigour. In the recent months, the Plaguefleet had been spreading Lord Typhus' newest concoction, The Blight, a horrifying disease that mutated its victims beyond all recognition. As the disease had spread, the Deathshroud noticed unusual changes amongst their own ranks.

 

It had been most obvious with Lord Typhus first. Still possessed of unholy resilience, he now had the strength and speed to match, his armour knitting itself whole, the corruption of his skin receding until gone completely, and the sickening of his muscles and bone apparently reversed. As time marched on, and the Blight spread further across the Imperium, this change had come to the Deathshroud also. 

 

For the first time in centuries, they felt clear-headed, firm of body and purpose. Their devotion to Nurgle was emboldened as their bodies enjoyed a newfound fitness, and the old colours of the Legion became visible again as the sickly miasma fell away. 

 

Whatever the Blight did to its victims, it did the opposite to its heralds. The effects had not yet spread to all of the 1st Company, and seemed to be trickling down from the top, affecting only the most worthy. The Deathshroud concluded that they would entreat Lord Typhus to reveal what this meant for the Legion.

 

 

 

Five Deathshroud Terminators join the ranks:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Brother Kraskor]

The Deathshroud had entered Lord Typhus' sanctum at last, having performed all the necessary rites to entreat the Herald of Nurgle. They had drunk deep from the seven chalices of toxins, and breathed the thick, cloying, poisonous incense that blanketed the antechamber. Whereas before, this process would have induced a stupour, a kind of drunken fug, it now injected putrescent fire into the Deathshrouds' veins, a new baleful energy. 

 

As they filed slowly, cautiously, into the chamber, Typhus sensed their presence and rose from his desk. A cadaver lay on the iron surface, its pallid skin and deformed skeletal structure marking it an unmistakeable victim of the Blight. 

 

"I know why you have come," he rumbled, "you seek answers about the Blight." He indicated the corpse on the table behind him, "as you can see it preoccupies my thoughts also. I do not know everything, and most of that which I do know is for my ears alone." Typhus crossed the chamber to face his Deathshroud, piercing their very souls with his ethereal gaze. 

 

"What I shall tell you is this. What the Blight takes from the unworthy, it rewards Nurgle's favoured. For every victim, every planet, every system that feels its touch, through daemonic sorcery its parasitic link grants us strength, vigour, life itself."  Typhus turned back to his desk, taking his seat again.

 

"It will surely not be long before the entire 1st Company feels this blessing. And then," Typhus paused momentarily to drive a plague knife deep into the cadaver, reversing his grip and savagely sawing it open, "then, we will have work to do."

 

 

 

 

Lord Typhus, Herald of Nurgle, Captain of the Death Guard's 1st Company: