40k Fiction

Chapter 1

Lord Nurgle, truly you grace me without warrent, what have I committed, oh Lord of decay to earn such an accolade as this ?"

The festering , purulent voice filled the entire chamber with it's sickly intent . The voice was old. Ancient , archaic , filled with a gregarious pride and unholy zeal .

Argrath , the Great Defiler and Arch-Chaplain of the lord of Putrescance rose from his pus slick throne , his ancient terminator armour grinding and screeching whilst vile matter dripped in disgusting torrents from joints and rents in it's surface .

Despite his horrifically bloated gut and atrophied limbs he moved with a composure and grace which conveyed his authority , his pock marked armour swept with pestilent robes of vermillion about which Nurglings cavorted and fed from the putrescance of their master's distended gut .

Although time meant nothing here within the swirling maelstrom of the Great Eye , he sensed that much of it had passed since he last left the Citadel's gates . The unholy city was a place that would drive mortal's to insanity . Twisted , black towers clucthed at the heavy , yellow sky while three sickly suns charred the vomit slicked planes . In places , flesh and Black brass met in unholy union , tentacles , gangrel limbs and leathery mouths emerged from the plague laden structures whilst their inhabitants prayed constantly to Nurgle for release from their torture .

As he emerged upon the corpse strewn streets , Argrath drank deeply of the necrotic breeze which swept up the sands into a swirling eddy . awaiting him upon the streets were his loyal retainers , each bedecked in corrupt Terminator armour similar to his own .

"My Lord , we have waited for you're word for an eternity . Despite the great bounty of Master Nurgle's affections here , we wish to bring his good graces to others . Out there." The decicated marine raised a boil infested digit to the waning sky "The lackies of the false Emperor still do not see , My Lord . They call us Heretics , and traitors . They know not of the blessed darkness , the sweet corruption ."

Argrath sighed wearily . For countless millenia he had served the Plague Lord . He knew of master Nurgle's wishes and intentions . His young protegee was ambitious , and eager to prove himself , but was yet young . He had rescently been captured and converted to Nurgle's cause by Argrath himself , and Argrath felt deeply for his young student .

"Yes , student . I know well of those whom you speak of . You are astute , as always . I feel ..... tension . Something stirs within the warp . Father Nurgle is restless my children , he has slept for too long and his hunger is great . We will bring the sweet bliss of death to those who would not hear my words. Make ready my children! Make ready for war !"

Argrath turned abruptly and strode back through the awesome iron doors , the emblem of his master etched crudely in the obsidian blackness . Falling to his knees , Argrath began to chant and mumble in the black tongue of the warp ; "Aksho Nurgleth D'Akh! , NURGLE SHALL BE CALLED WITH DEATH!"

And in the warp , something stirred.....

Chapter 2

The incomprehensible look of ignorant terror flooded the Guardsmen's eyes as tears of pain and terror stung his eyes , wearing small streams through the dirt and mud which caked his face . They had been fighting for days now , the planet's twin sun's rising and setting in a monotonous pattern which drilled a grey , unbearable conformity of routine upon it's inhabitants .

Only the Emperor knew why the galaxy spanning Imperium of man had seen fit to colonise the pathetic little mudball in the first place . A cold , unthinking world populated by ignorant , petty little people . They couldnt even comprehend what was happening to them now .

The Dark Children of the imperium had attacked over night , their twisted space craft hurtling stars like fallen angels to dispense fiery death to all . The frenzied ones had come first , their crimson armour made slick with the living blood of Guardsmen . Their weapons were awesome , ancient designs of bolter and Chainaxe cut through flesh and armour with equal ease .

The frenzied lunatics only seemed to stop to rip the skulls and spine of their victims out and hang them lik grim trophies from spiked chains which dangled below their bulk .

All this flashed across the guardsmen's mind in an instant as sickening pain blossomed across his body once more as the ragged wound in his left shoulder tore open anew . Hot , crimson liquid shot in filthy jets onto the charred ground while his stomach heaved and rolled .

Retching uncontrollably he lurched to his feet and began to stagger blindly forward holding his Lasbayonet out like a shield . A half hearted prayer from terra came to his lips but was silenced when an anormous force smashed into his jaw and sent him reeling back in the mud with a perfect chrysantheum of agony bursting across his jaw .

He tried to scream but abruptly silenced it when the broken bone in his jaw grated against itself , sending a new wave of sickening pain through his face . Staring upwards through the red mist which blanketed the battlefield he saw his attacker . An immense , crimson armoured marine wearing an archaic style of power armour trudged slowly towards him , it's immense cloven boots making small pools in the soft mud .

In it's left gauntleted hand it wielded an enormous chain axe spattered with viscera , it's twisted teeth whirring in a teeth grinding sympthony of death , a sweet obituary of promised violence .

Unlike his brethren this marine's twisted head was bared , his helmet dangling from a bespiked chain on his belt . As he slowly closed the distance between his crippled victim , the marine's fractured face split into a manic grin revealing multi-layerd serrated teetch , stained red from countless victims .

The guardsmen felt his stomach lurch anew and stifled a scream as the foul entity stood over him , glaring through obsidian pits , swirling voids of insanity and bitterness . The guardsmen's attention faltered as the pain from his shoulder and jaw intensified , a stifling pink cloud enveloping his thoughts in a protective womb free of pain and suffering .

"no , oh no...we cant have that." The deep , guttural voice echoed throughout his skull , a deep resounding bass note that tore the protective field of his thoughts asunder with stigian claws .

"Not yet , Imperial dog . We cant have you drifting into unconsciousness yet . You must be shown the true path . Bleeding , kicking and screaming if need be," (His manic grin grew wider at this point) "You follow a corpse . Nothing more . A decicated , dying , festering corpse that claims god hood and yet will not save you and your pathetic little life now . For all your oaths and fealty , you feel bewildered , dont you ? You feel betrayed . Why has he left you here , on this charred battlefield to die in agony after all of your years of faithful service ? I'll tell you why , my child . Because he is falsehood given shape . HE is lies, he is illusion. Lord Khorne has shown us the true path , and soon you will learn the error of your degenerate and misplaced worship ."

With that the marine raised the immense axe , it's teeth whirring , spitting the charred lumps of internal organ and ragged flesh caught in their cavities , and bought it down with sickening glee onto the guardsmen's head , splitting his skull neatly in two . The marine smiled visciously as the smell of burnt flesh and bone mingled with the sharp tang of rain and the earthy scent of the soil .

"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!! SKULLS FOR MY LORD KHORNE!!"

Karnexxus strode forward , and death followed in his wake .

Above the planet's atmosphere , entombed within the sickly coffins of their living vessels sat the composers of this grissly symphony , laughing raucously as their work was conducted . The pus slciked throne , shaped and reshaped into a vile effigy of three circles embossed with skulls , flies and other symbols of rot swivelled on it's axis , ancient motors grinding in rust ridden rot .

"Truly Demios my brother , this was a master stroke . Father Nurgle will be pleased ."

Argrath's disease ridden voice carried like the death call of sickened vermin throughout the anti-chamber .

"OH , he is Argrath . He is ."

This second voice was different . Whereas Argrath's voice was diseased , aged and bloated with ancient lore and knolwedge , the second was strong . It boomed throughout the chamber with bareley suppressed power , Nurglings and various foul creatures ran scuttling in mute terror as he advanced .

"The minions of the Blood god are indeed efficient . They have cut the Unbeliever's defences by 68% since yesterday morning . Prepare the drop pods my brother! it is time that Nurgle graced this pathetic little world with his servants..."

And within the warp , the Lord of Corruption smiled upon his children .

Argrath breathed deeply of the metallic tang of freshly spilt blood which filled the air , carrying with it swiftly muted screams of terror and agony as his warp born children and their followers slew their enemies with wanton abandon . The once lush and verdent plains had been raised to disease and corpse strewn mud flats , interlaced with pot holes and razor wire beddecked trenches .

"So beautiful my children . Look upon our father's works , and know his glory." Argrath gestured grandly with his Plague Scythe , leaving a thin trail of yellowish slime in the air . All around him the minions of the Plague lord advanced , their archaic bolters spitting death into the faces of any and all who opposed them . Pus slicked and serrated bades promised an excrutiating death to those who's flesh they pierced and tattered banners of boil laden flesh hovered above the battlefield like hideous wraiths .

Amongst the sickly white and necrotic green armour of the Death Guard marched blood slicked warriors of red , wailing aberrations charging ahead of the rest of the horde , their armour pock marked from the barrage of lasgun fire which exploded harmlessly upon the ancient ceramite .

Argrath took all of this in an instant , standing upon a raised mound of festering corpses with his sickeningly warped entourage of Plague Terminators about which buzzed the incessant chattering of the daemonic insects which fed upon the diseased flesh . "Come my brothers , let us join the battle . Many of the poor souls under the oppression of the false Emperor have been delivered to the bliss of Father Nurgle's embrace this day . Let us make this harvest greater ."

With that Argrath and his retinue began to stamp purposefully through the horde , the press of diseased bodies parting before them . Any of the enemy before them were simply cut down . No ranged weapons did they fire despite their impressive arsenal , but with pus slicked scythe and boil infest claw they left small and seeemingly insignificant wounds on their victims , which instantly began to secrete forth vile , putrescant matter as they became gangrenous . The gurgled screams of the agonised and dying cried to the Emperor , to the heavens , to any and all who could appease their agony . Many died in excrutiating torment as their flesh festered and sloughed from the bone , others remained still , yellow and white boils adorning their newly corrupted flesh .

Argrath's hideous visage broke into a malevolent grin as he drank deeply of this song of praise , this testament to his father's will . he felt the presence of his master , a sickening sensation of overwhelming pride and gregarious sentimentality which smote upon the age old psyker's will and enriched him with it's virulent intoxications . The Plague lord was turning his attention to this battle , and soon his servants , the Tallymen of Nurgle would arrive to pick clean it's surface of life .

Chapter 3

Dark tendrils of smoke filled the sky as countless pods rained upon the earth, deep craters dappling the dark ground. With a hiss the pods opened, spilling forth the vile gases that were held within, and releasing their daemonic travellers. The wind carried their stench, a foul smell that burned at the soul of a man, tore at one�s sanity. The hulking form of Argrath shambled forward, the open boils and pulsing wounds dotting his armour. A sickly slime covered his armour, dripping slowly down his armoured body, and collecting in a foul puddle below him. He raised his massive weapon, a loathsome scythe dripping with a rank, pulsing slime and pointed towards the horizon. Already the wind carried the din of battle, the screams of the wounded and slaughtered faintly heard.

"Go, my warriors. We march to battle once again" The world seemed to go quiet as the hordes began to shamble forward, their rotting flesh and decaying bodies turning the air thick with green clouds. Argrath turned to his retinue, sensing their pause. They too, wore the ancient Terminator armour, their lumbering forms dotted with the blessings of a rotting god, their red eyes watching Argrath. He turned and strode toward them, the green clouds of disease pulsing off him. "We march. Forward, my brothers, and we shall claim the souls of this world..." Their hulking forms disappeared into the green mist.

The screams erupted into the cries of untold thousands of dying victims. Already the ground was littered with festering corpses, their pale flesh falling away. Those who ran were gunned down, their frail bodies exploding from within as the bolters erupted their cruel fire. Argrath swung his aging scythe around, the decaying blade carving through the weak flesh, the open wounds spilling forth the already decaying innards. The black blood churned in the ground, the slick life-fluid gushing forth onto the ground before him. Argrath paused and looked around. To his right was Dasleah Calin Desai, his aging armour fusing with his pale flesh, his decaying lightning claws thick and damp with the blood of those who fell before him. To his right was Demios, hacking away with an almost joyous abandon. The clouds of plague filled the air, lightened by the firing erupting all around him. Argrath nodded and continued his advance, the daemon-runes of his scythe glowing with an eagerness for blood.

The defenders had no chance. They were overwhelmed, the seemingly immortal hordes of attackers never relenting. The deep flashes of botlers cut into the lines of Guardsmen, ripping off arms and legs with nothing more but a dull thud. The green clouds filled the air, those foolish enough to breathe it in choking as they fell to the ground, their lungs burning with the blessings of a god. The bodies of the fallen where dotted everywhere; the mounds of dead piled high into the sky, the thick swarms of flies blackening the air. The screams wailed across the plains, their short cries of agony ending as the world went black before their eyes. The wind howled as the forces of Chaos spilled forth, the red-armoured warriors howling with rage, their armour slick with the blood of untold hundreds that had sold their life. Their roaring weapons ripped flesh from bone as they wildly swung them, the short bursts of light bouncing off their armour. Already, Karnexxus was among them, screaming praises to his dark god, his bellowing voice ripping the courage from the defenders. With a cry of anguish they fled, the Berzerkers howling with abandon as they chased them down, the spraying blood bubbling on the churned ground. Karnexxus howled with delight as he cut down the fleeing mortals, his massive axe ripping deep into the weak flesh, ripping the innards from those he found, the pink flesh tearing away with a sickening sound.

The howls of the dying filled the night, the dull explosions casting small flashes into the dark. Argrath smiled, his hulking form resting upon a mound of rotting flesh, the once pale innards now black and writhing with maggots. His daemonic form turned and he looked at the two warriors behind him. Dasleah Calin Desai, his massive terminator armour encrusted with long tendrils of pipe and slime, his ornate claws shining in the night. Demios, his corrupted armour dotted with venomous tendrils of black flesh, the heads of his fallen foes hanging down from his waist. "We have claimed this world. The greatest Champions of Nurgle have purified this planet with our Fathers grace. Dasleah. Prepare your ships. We return to...." Argrath paused as he noticed the look upon Demios� face. He spun, the aged armour groaning as he did. In the dark knight sky, he knew what he saw. The mad howls of Karnexxus rang through the land. Before him was erected a massive monolith, a towering edifice made of skulls, still fresh with blood. The tower howled as the wind went through it, a silent scream of pain filling the soul of Argrath. The fires erupted as the followers of the Blood God roared praises to their god and master. The Champions of Nurgle stood dumbstruck. A daemonic sneer crept over Argrath�s face. A single skull was raised on top. That of his protegee.

Chapter 4

The decaying ship 'Despoiler of Hope' dropped out of the Warp with a dull thump and a shake. Dasleah, his ornate Lightning Claws resting upon the armrests, shifted his Terminator-armoured form against the throne, the massive seat at the centre of the ship. It had been over five-thousand years since he was taken from his home, his family, his dreams. Now he commanded over fifteen thousand warriors, and perhaps the largest Plague-fleet ever assembled. And yet, it did not matter to Dasleah. He was nothing now, an emotionless husk bent on ending his prolonged life. He had lived for so long, killed so many, and it was nothing. All that mattered to him was marching against the foes of Father Nurgle. Everything else was nothing........

The winds howled like the laughter of a mad god. The sky flashed and roared, the cruel lightning casting shadows deep into Argrath�s face. Deep rumbles shook the air, thunder that erupted from a dark sky. The two combatants eyed each other, intense rage digging deep into their faces. Demios and Dasleah stood by their comrade, their dark weapons twisting with a putrid slime, low hisses sounding as the liquid ate at the ground below them. Karnexxus smiled, his massive axe resting in his arms, the runes upon it glowing, eager for blood. At his side stood two snarling Flesh Hounds, their bestial mouths frothing with rage, their blood soaked skin and brass collars shining dully.

"Karnexxus, you have slain that which is not yours. You shall bow before me, worshipper of the False God" The shadows pulsed with Agrath�s rage.
"Do not tell me what to do. I shall gather skulls for my Lord, and it is a foolish man indeed that tells me otherwise. It shall be a pleasure to kill you Argrath. Your skull shall make a mighty trophy...."

The Hounds sprung to life, their gaping maws rearing for Argrath. Dasleah and Demios sprung forward, knocking the Hounds to the ground, their bestial howls wailing as they hit the ground. Daemonic ichor flew as they rose again, red foam collecting at their mouth as they bit and clawed at the plague-armour of Dasleah and Demios.

Karnexxus howled as he sprang forward, the dull gleam from his axe shining. Argrath stepped back, swinging his massive blade, the corrupting edge glowing with a dull light. The night sky light with daemonic force as the two weapons met, dark powers colliding as the blades themselves seemed to cry out for blood. Argrath lurched forward, his shoulder jutting into Karnexxus� stomach, the dull thud of metal upon metal sounding. Karnexxus spat as he rose, his mad howls of fury echoing in the wind as he swung his axe in a twirling arc, the sky roaring as the blades met again. Daemonic fury lined both men�s face, deep snarls of rage forged from countless millennia of battle. The flailing cloak around Argrath snapped wildly in the wind as he sprung forward, bringing his blade down, and the blade slowed. Dark jets of blood poured onto the ground, the sickly smell of flesh wafted through the air as Argrath lifted his blade, dribbling streams of blood trailing off it. Karnexxus looked at his wound, a deep slash across his shoulder, the flesh and blood beginning to grow dark and fester. At his feet lay a pool of collecting blood, the red ichor forming at his feet.

Karnexxus howled, the blood still falling down his armour, and bounded at Argrath. His axe swung wildly, roaring for blood. The screamed with animalistic rage, the deep knots on his face dark. His axe tore at the decaying armour, flaying huge chunks of armour from skin, before Argrath turned and spun, the but of his scythe digging deep into Karnexxus� back. The two stood back, watching each other, waiting for the first move. A flash appeared behind Karnexxus, and a bestial cry wailed silently. The sharp cry of another sounded before everything went silent. Silent as death. The heaving warriors watched each other, their glowing eyes never leaving the contact of the others, their wound beginning to rot in the pestilent breeze. A deep wound dug deep into Karnexxus� shoulder, the blood slowed to a small trickle, and a series of fierce gashes burned at Argrath�s side. He held his scythe low, the curved blade almost touching the slick ground. His other arm lay at his side, clenched in a tight fist. In an instant, he drew his weapon, and it roared with a powerful hiss, the ground in front of Karnexxus erupting in a white flash, the intense heat fusing the ground into glass, the dark light reflecting off it, casting shadows into the pillar of smoke where Karnexxus once stood.

A bestial scream sounded as Argrath leapt through the smoke, his ancient scythe raised above his head, bringing it down hard. Karnexxus rolled to his side, the wicked blade digging deep into the ground where he once lay, and he leapt onto his feet, drawing his chainaxe. Argrath pulled at his blade, but it had dug too deep into the ground, the soil around it starting to blacken. He drew his weapon, the barrel erupting as he let loose, the heavy shells churning the ground as they hit. Karnexxus dove between the shots, rolling to below Argrath�s legs, and swung his blade high, the twisting blade digging into Argrath�s hand. He dove back, missing a kick from Argrath, pulling his blade free, the dark blood of Argrath hissing as it met the ground.

Karnexxus stood back. "You are defeated. You have no weapons to raise against me. You are weak, just like your God.....Just like your protegee. He was an easy kill. Ahhh, yes...I can still hear his screams. The wind howling as we attacked him, our blades digging deep as we drunk of his blood....Such is the praises of our God. And you, Argrath, you......will have the pleasure of meeting my Lord. Your soul will be his"

Argrath raced with rage. He could feel his heart beat, the deep pounding in his body. The words tore at him, burning his soul. His body seemed to be on fire, sweat racked his body as he howled. He howled with rage, with hatred. The images of his protegee filled his mind, tore at his thoughts. The pounds grew as the pain did, the anguish, the hate. The hate. He could taste it as it rose in the bile of his mouth. He could feel it racing through him, coursing through his body. And he could see it. A blackness that filled him, consumed him. He could see the darkness, the swirling maelstrom of hate and rage building within him. His body shook with the pain, the hate, the rage. His howls grew. His body quaked. The darkness was growing, feeding. His body rocked. He let loose a howling blast of hatred as the darkness rose and filled him, consumed him. His body convulsed and the world went red before him.

Everything was quiet. The dull thump of his heart still sounded, though fading. Sweat soaked him, and the unnatural cold filled him. His heart began to sound as he looked up. He saw before him his enemy. His foe. His next victim. He rose his arms and howled a single howl that echoed through the air.

And in the Warp, the Father of Pestilence reached out to his champion.

The scream of twisting metal filled the air. Huge chunks of decaying armour flew everywhere, the dark flesh beneath them pulsing and growing. The robe tore into a thousand pieces, the thin tendrils of cloth whipping away. Argrath�s hulking body rose into the air, his massive frame blocking the light as his muscle pulsed and grew, the sickly green skin expanding. A fierce wind blew, carrying the foul stench carrying through the air. Karnexxus, his eyes wide open, took at step back as Argrath twisted, the massive blades bursting from his skin, dripping with a green slime. His red eyes opened, glowing lights from his daemonic form, and his mouth twisted in a bitter sneer. The ground sook as he stepped forward, towards Karnexxus. His howl of fury rung across the night sky as Karnexxus turned, fleeing away from the newborn Daemon Prince, the Lord of Pestilence screaming foul cries of vengeance after the warrrior as he disappeared into a swirling maelstrom of energy, back to the Warp........

And so it was that the greatest Champion of our Father was reborn, and the mortals trembled and decayed in his wake, their souls gathered as his trophies, their flesh as his prize

-The Legends of Argrath the Corruptor

By Dasleah and Argrath

You can meet Dasleah and Argrath over at the