The creeping rot…

At a time when the world is undergoing a viral pandemic, we find ourselves turning to soap and hand sanitizer and masks and other such things in an effort to combat any potential viral transfer… unless you’re a devotee of Papa Nurgle. The father of plagues has long been one of the more fleshed-out of Games Workshop’s Chaos deities, represented through each product in myriad bloated, pustulent forms. Today we’re showing off pal Gaspy’s vile Great Unclean Ones and their friends.

I mean, I know I’m having fun painting my Flesh Eater Courts, but how the heck are my ghoul swarms supposed to deal with three (!) Great Unclean Ones?

Rotigus the Rainmaker bears his gnarlrod rather than any weapon, and I just… Can we get a Keeper of Secrets in here to pop some of those zits please?

I’m torn. Is he more likely to yell “Bring out your dead!” or “Shame! (ding) Shame! (ding) Shame!”. Either way, if he clocks you upside the head with that thing it’ll definitely ring your bell.

The most traditional of the three, I’ve arbitrarily decided this one’s name is Gus. Gaspy may have another name for it, but to me, he’s Gus. He likes walks through the swamp, black forest cake, and watching reruns of Arrested Development.

Horticulous Slimux likes to plant trees in the garden of Nurgle. Or Nurgle trees in the garden of everyone else. Feculent Gnarlmaws are a hardy breed of tree, and I and not easily eaten by demon snails.

The Maggotkin are resilience personified. Their toughness is directly related to their body odor, and that one guy’s lack of dental hygiene. Imagine being the poor sod in the back, the icon of your deity manifesting on your belly in the form of three 8 inch pustules.

Oh, and in case I every jump over to Warhammer 40K, Gaspy is ready to throw giant chaos robots at me too.

I’m doomed, aren’t I?