A Plague on Both Your Houses
Another shuddering blast, a shower of brown filth erupted from several ruptured intestine like tubes which glistened in the moist darkness above the cavernous rusting bridge chamber of the Plagueclaw.
Lord Ignatius Grulgor wiped some of the spattered mucus from his face and licked at it with his hideously swollen, corpse blue tongue.
He rolled his one bulging bloodshot eye and let out a bellow of hacking laughter; the oozing mass of Nurglings clinging to his command throne giggled manically with him.
“So the overdressed Peacocks think they can fight? Shame, I loathed them more when they skulked in the shadows playing with their planchettes and wands.” He wheezed.“And we were having such fun weren’t we my children.”
He motioned with an oversized paw towards the weeping gash of the viewport and the litter of broken transports and merchantman beyond that spun in slow glittering arcs as they vented the last of their atmosphere and spilt their passengers and crew to the void. The crowning achievement to this masterpiece of destruction was an Ultramarine Frigate, burning end to end and falling away towards Lalinta Prime like a miniature setting sun.
Another pounding shook the bridge and a corroded girder fell disemboweling a Plague bearer who had been shambling along one of the rickety gangways. At this Grulgor roared.
“Enough! Bring us about, full broadside, I want to gift those Tzeentch scum a full spread of our wares. Tell our dear guest the Fecal Lord to prepare his men for drop, we will have to break orbit sooner than I had planned to deal with these charlatans.”
Lord Ignatius Grulgor wiped some of the spattered mucus from his face and licked at it with his hideously swollen, corpse blue tongue.
He rolled his one bulging bloodshot eye and let out a bellow of hacking laughter; the oozing mass of Nurglings clinging to his command throne giggled manically with him.
“So the overdressed Peacocks think they can fight? Shame, I loathed them more when they skulked in the shadows playing with their planchettes and wands.” He wheezed.“And we were having such fun weren’t we my children.”
He motioned with an oversized paw towards the weeping gash of the viewport and the litter of broken transports and merchantman beyond that spun in slow glittering arcs as they vented the last of their atmosphere and spilt their passengers and crew to the void. The crowning achievement to this masterpiece of destruction was an Ultramarine Frigate, burning end to end and falling away towards Lalinta Prime like a miniature setting sun.
Another pounding shook the bridge and a corroded girder fell disemboweling a Plague bearer who had been shambling along one of the rickety gangways. At this Grulgor roared.
“Enough! Bring us about, full broadside, I want to gift those Tzeentch scum a full spread of our wares. Tell our dear guest the Fecal Lord to prepare his men for drop, we will have to break orbit sooner than I had planned to deal with these charlatans.”
Picture featured 'Papa Nurgle' by Zilla774
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