A most traditional clusterfuck. In space. Someone wanted to mention war, too.
Porthus the Pusbag (Chaos Group 2)
Plague Marine enlightened by a "flu" (more like a strain of a Nurglite virus) at the beginning of his path.
A cultist gave me an idea. I should write down my deeds so they would be remembered. I have almost no interest in preserving my story, but something just… makes me do this. I am Porthus the Pusbag, formerly known as Porthus Vallone. Nurgle is my god.
I was in a chapter of the corpse-god’s army. I was a part of the Adeptus Astartes. My superiors often thought my methods were unusual. One day, I catched something they call a “flu”. They said it’s impossible. It wasn’t. It intrigued me so much, I began to secretly read on the topic of sickness. My research came to a conclusion: it must have been Nurgle who striked me with this oddity, maybe when I was in a quarantine zone which had previously been attacked by cultists. Thus, I began contemplating. The
Emperor corpse-god couldn’t protect me from this. Even though, I still had faith (how could I?) for a time. But when my squad started to fall to this illness too, I realized the corpse-god was too weak. Then I heard it. A disgusting, yet somehow gentle and caring voice talked to me. “See, you’re already sick. It will just get worse. Your organs can’t keep up. You’ll succumb to the Rot, and I’ll welcome you in my family.” At first, I contemplated asking about this from my superiors, but then realized I’d become tainted. It didn’t feel tainted or bad in any way though. It was just… calming to know I’m about to become immortal and loved, loved like no corpse-god could love. I heard Nurgle, and one night, he heard my prayer too. The others in my squad did not pray to him. They tried to endure. They were scared, unlike me. On my next mission, still weakened by the sickness but successfully hiding it, I’ve met them. My new family. They heard Nurgle too, so they didn’t kill me as they did with the rest of my company. Everyone in my company was cowardly and horrified of Nurgle. I was the only one who accepted the Gift and in return I was accepted into the family. I fought with them for a thousand years. They died, one by one. I wandered alone for a time, surviving, living on, while spreading the Gift. If the reader heard about the “Great Epidemic of Salaxia”, I caused it. Then I found two battle-brothers, who I’ve been fighting with for the past four thousand years. A Khornate and one of my family.
I like guns. A lot of guns. Any gun. Patiently standing there, gifting the enemy with my plague-ridden bullets. I like making plagues. I serve Nurgle this way.