| rdfs:comment | - The Beast of Nurgle looks like some horrendous mish-mash of creatures. It has the soft and sticky body of a pale brown slug, webbed feet that flap uselessly, a face of writhing green tentacles, and whiptail growth that bursts from its back and which wags constantly from side to side. The Beast is no less deadly than it is ugly, for its touch causes paralysis and its slimy secretions rot everything they cover. The very proximity of a Beast is sufficient to kill small animals and plants and even larger creatures may age and decay perceptably in its presence. The Beast is the very embodiment of decay.
- Growing all along the length of its moist body are razor-sharp spines that stick out in random places. About midway down the trunk, a pair of useless legs ending in clawed and webbed feet flop about uselessly. The thing’s body ends in a long tail fitted with a sharp stinger. Though somewhat uniform in appearance, the Beasts are heavily corrupted and sport many mutations and alterations, giving these creatures a wide array of unpredictable abilities and features.
- Immense slug-like monstrosities, Beasts of Nurgle crawl across the ground on their bellies, weakly propelled by clawed flippers, leaving a layer of stinking slime in their wake. While slow, the Beast is implacable in its advance, undeterred by all but the most fearsome of weapons, as relentless as the decay it embodies. Each is a nightmarish conglomeration of parts, with a lengthy neck holding a wide-eyed face of almost blissful idiocy. The gaping tooth-filled mouth houses a lolling tongue dripping with putrid saliva. Clusters of writhing tubes sprout from the Beast’s neck and back, each one spewing forth swarms of buzzing flies, clouds of vomit-inducing gases, flesh-eating fluids capable of finding gaps in even the most secure of armour, or other foul gifts.
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| abstract | - The Beast of Nurgle looks like some horrendous mish-mash of creatures. It has the soft and sticky body of a pale brown slug, webbed feet that flap uselessly, a face of writhing green tentacles, and whiptail growth that bursts from its back and which wags constantly from side to side. The Beast is no less deadly than it is ugly, for its touch causes paralysis and its slimy secretions rot everything they cover. The very proximity of a Beast is sufficient to kill small animals and plants and even larger creatures may age and decay perceptably in its presence. The Beast is the very embodiment of decay. Despite its fearsome appearance and deadly attributes, the Beast is a friendly and affectionate creature, behaving in all respects like an over-friendly and easily-excited puppy. It craves attention, greeting newcomers by slobbering all over them with its slimy tentacles. Once they get thoroughly worked up, they can rarely if ever contain themselves and leave little puddles of acrid slime behind them. All this attention is not a problem to other creatures of Nurgle, but tends to kill mortals fairly rapidly. Once the Beast's new friend stops moving, its interest quickly shifts to another target and, in this way, the creature excitedly and lovingly kills and destroys just about everything it touches. As the Beast has only the most rudimentary sense of intelligence, it never anticipates the result of its friendly behaviour and registers only a slight sense of disappointment as each new playmate goes all still and boring. In battle, the Beasts run backwards and forwards in their eagerness to meet new friends, constantly rolling over and inviting the Plaguebearers to scratch their back and pop their pustules. The Plaguebearers try to maintain order, encouraging the Beasts to move in certain directions or to attack or hold back as appropriate. As the administrators and leaders of the Nurgle horde, the Plaguebearers are seen by the Beasts as their masters and special friends. Beasts are intensely loyal creatures and always eager to please, so they usually attach themselves unshakeably to one particular Plaguebearer.
- Growing all along the length of its moist body are razor-sharp spines that stick out in random places. About midway down the trunk, a pair of useless legs ending in clawed and webbed feet flop about uselessly. The thing’s body ends in a long tail fitted with a sharp stinger. Though somewhat uniform in appearance, the Beasts are heavily corrupted and sport many mutations and alterations, giving these creatures a wide array of unpredictable abilities and features. These Daemons of the Plague God Nurgle, seem to serve no purpose whatsoever. They are unreliable on the battlefield, crushing their own forces as much as their enemies with their flailing. The things move very slowly, and everything dies that touches the slime trails they leave. In fact, so great is their stink that birds fall from the sky, trees wither and die, and grass for scores of feet all around turns to ash. They are excitable creatures that behave in the most unpredictable ways. The Beasts of Nurgle congregate in herds near the edge of the swirling darkness that marks the border between the Umbra and the Realm of Chaos, feeding on Nurglings and other Daemons that spill out from the Aethyr. Only rarely do these herds slip south, into the hunting territory of the Kurgan and Hung where many of these creatures wind up as food for the cook pots. Beasts of Nurgle are only seen during Incursions, but liars and madmen have claimed to see them, spinning wild stories about how friendly these things are. Some of the most disgusting Champions of Nurgle actually desire these creatures, hoping to ride them into battle. Agents for such a villain might hire mercenaries to track the thing down, all the while being followed by the Champion and his retinue, who hope to use them as a food offering to gain the Beast’s service. Amongst the Kurgan and Norsemen, hunting Beasts of Nurgle is an act of extreme courage, and those warriors who survive the experience are counted among the best in the tribe.
- Immense slug-like monstrosities, Beasts of Nurgle crawl across the ground on their bellies, weakly propelled by clawed flippers, leaving a layer of stinking slime in their wake. While slow, the Beast is implacable in its advance, undeterred by all but the most fearsome of weapons, as relentless as the decay it embodies. Each is a nightmarish conglomeration of parts, with a lengthy neck holding a wide-eyed face of almost blissful idiocy. The gaping tooth-filled mouth houses a lolling tongue dripping with putrid saliva. Clusters of writhing tubes sprout from the Beast’s neck and back, each one spewing forth swarms of buzzing flies, clouds of vomit-inducing gases, flesh-eating fluids capable of finding gaps in even the most secure of armour, or other foul gifts. The Beast of Nurgle is no less deadly than it is ugly, for its touch causes paralysis and its slimy secretions rot everything they cover. The very proximity of a Beast is sufficient to kill small animals and plants, and even larger creatures may age and decay perceptibly in its presence. Indeed, the Beast is the very embodiment of the universe's mindless decay. Despite its fearsome appearance and deadly attributes, the Beast is an affectionate creature that behaves in all respects exactly like an over-friendly and easily excited puppy. It craves attention, greeting newcomers by slobbering all over them with its slimy tentacles. Once they get thoroughly worked up they can rarely (if ever) contain themselves and leave little piles of acrid slime in their wake. All this attention is not a problem to other creatures and servants of Nurgle, but tends to kill mortals fairly rapidly. Unlike most daemons, a Beast kills not with rending claws and ripping teeth, but with a strange form of kindness. Victims are caressed, petted, and stroked with the daemon’s multiple tentacles, while the long tongue delivers slobbery and slimy licks. In very short order, the victim is sickened, infected, dissolved, and then crushed, ground under the Beast’s vast bulk. The Beast, for its part, feels a touch of sadness at the inability of its now-dead friend to join in on the merriment, but quickly forgets about him as something (or someone) new attracts its attention. Once the Beast's new friend stops moving, its interest quickly shifts to another target, and in this way the creature excitedly and lovingly poisons and kills just about everything it touches. As the Beast has only the most rudimentary sense of intelligence it never anticipates the result of its boisterous behaviour, and registers only a slight sense of disappointment as each new friend goes still and boring. A prime example of the destructive power of a Beast of Nurgle can be found on the Agri-world of Gabali III in Winterscale’s Realm in the Koronus Expanse. There the province of Gevaudan suffered hundreds of casualties as a Beast wandered about the farm fields, destroying crops, herd animals, and buildings. Seemingly unstoppable, it took the combined efforts of Enforcers and local planetary militia units to finally destroy the daemon. Even after death, however, its presence lingered, as crops grew sickly and many fields had to be torched to the bedrock to remove the diseased corruption. Particularly favoured Beasts of Nurgle are sometimes chosen to become the putrid daemonic creatures known as Rot Flies and Battle Flies, massive daemonic beasts in the form of putrid corpse flies. Rot Flies serve as aerial mounts for the senior Plaguebearers of Nurgle known as Plague Drones.
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