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Games Workshop Warhammer AoS - Maggotkin of Nurgle Dice Set

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Slaanesh would see all of existence turned into a playground in which he and his minions could eternally explore new delights. Khorne desires nothing more than to claim every skull and drop of blood to use as the mortar with which to build the foundations of his new kingdom. Tzeentch surely has his own plans for what a twisted reality reshaped in his image would look like, but he has not shared what that might be. Perhaps he does not even know himself. To Nurgle, these alternatives are indistinguishable -- self-indulgent fantasies with no sense of greater purpose or understanding of the nature of things. To him, the ambitions of the others seem small. It is a hope born from Nurgle's own understanding of the workings of the universe. Just as his followers have accepted the teachings of their lord, Nurgle himself long ago accepted that decay brings an end to all things, but that through such decay life begins anew. Decay is the victor in all battles, the opposition to which there is no resistance. Nurgle, on the other hand, cherishes the beauty and surprises of his garden. He routinely takes strolls down its twisted paths, cavorting with his Daemons and stopping to observe as one of his diseases takes its toll on a wounded captive. Nurgle is in touch with his land and its many regions. Champions of Nurgle can become among the most powerful Chaos servants in the galaxy, though they will also be afflicted with some of the most all-encompassing, and disgusting, physical mutations that Chaos can bestow. Nurglites become swollen, walking bags of pus and putrescence, their very skin swelling and rotting from their bones even as they continuously leak organic fluids infected with every loathsome bacteria, virus, fungus and infectious agent that can be conjured by the imagination. But this coin is illusory; there is no divide between its two faces, no beginning and no end. The coin is naught but a feeble mortal metaphor for the truth of Nurgle's influence. On one "side" there is decay, death, and disease. What would be on the other side of this coin is in fact part and parcel of the first side. Hope, rebirth, resistance, and growth all arise directly from facing death and decay. The Seers of the Asuryani craftworlds and the Inquisitors of the Imperium will never share this truth with the weak-minded fools who drink in their lies like mother's milk.

While they lay becalmed in the Immaterium, a mysterious contagion spread from one to another of the Death Guard's voidships until the entire fleet was infected. Even the reinforced transhuman physiology of the Space Marines could not fight off the dire plague as it bloated the guts, distended the flesh and rotted its victims from the inside. It is said that when even the Legion's primarch, Mortarion, fell victim to the plague he cried out to the Ruinous Powers of Chaos in his delirium. His desperation to save himself and his Legion called forth Nurgle, and Mortarion became his greatest champion and Daemon Prince. These Chaos Space Marines became known as the Plague Marines, Nurgle's most potent and prized mortal servants. Thus, the Death Guard Legion has enjoyed the favour of Nurgle for the last ten thousand standard years.Nope bought it that way. Real fancy, you know. It doesn’t work too well in rain but it’s got panache.” Finally for this week, there is a little treat for those of you with other enthusiastic Warhammer fans in your lives. Previously only available from your local Warhammer store, this range of Christmas-themed goodies are now live on the webstore so that wherever you are, you can bring Da Red Gobbo’s holiday adventures straight into your home.

To further complicate things, the dice set came in four different colors for the four seasons(?). So if they had color-coded the different results, like making 2’s blue and the other results literally any other color we would have been fine. I saw a rainbow once, there’s plenty of options. But nope, they decided that making all of the numbers equally all the colors was a top-notch idea. They did one thing right in having the faction marking as the number 6, but the faction logo for a company of tree people is apparently a thumbprint. So go figure that one out. GW Didn’t Know What Dice Do Still, if one were to delve into the comparative histories and galaxy-wide myths associated with Nurgle, certain commonalities would present themselves. Whereas other gods within the Realm of Chaos are associated with dozens, even hundreds, of depictions, there are far fewer variations on the appearance of the Plaguefather. The legends and tales universally describe Nurgle in unflattering terms. Despite his consistent "generosity," only an enlightened few truly embrace Nurgle's greatness among Humans and aliens. Yet the god's worshippers exist in numbers enough to ensure his Daemon servants access to the material dimension wherever plague abounds. This is just as well, for of all the Chaos Gods, it is Nurgle who most appreciates the personal touch.

All Plague Legions are Nurgle's creations, and so carry pestilence and propagate their master's foul will, yet each is associated with specific stages of the Fly Lord's cycle of decay and regeneration. The Fecundus Legions are tasked with the making of diseases; it is they that travel across reality and unreality to gather the raw ingredients that will be added to the cauldron of their foul god, and the worst ills suffered by the mortal races can be attributed to their diligence. Compared to the other Chaos Gods, many of Nurgle's followers worship him by no choice of their own. The taint of Nurgle spreads readily among beasts and humanoids alike, and the awful arcane illness known as Nurgle's Rot may strike even the strongest person and cause him or her to be outcast as a leper. Despite the nature of his influence, Nurgle takes an interest in the victims of the diseases he unleashes (which he considers to be "gifts"), jovially caring for them in a manner similar to a loving grandfather; for which reason he is frequently referred to as "Grandfather Nurgle" by his servants. This also causes some that would have otherwise never been infected to seek out disease and even poison themselves to earn his favour.

The corrupting influence of Nurgle's servants is often successful in thwarting the Architect of Fate and they erode his accomplishments constantly, safe in the knowledge that whatever survives the collapse into entropy becomes their inheritance. Nurgle and Tzeentch are in many ways opposed, for at the heart of the matter the Changer of Ways seeks to build ever more complex and improbable webs of power, while Nurgle embodies continuous growth, destruction, and renewal. If this decay comes at the hands of Nurgle, via the thrust of a rusted blade or the unleashing of a supernatural plague, many will curse his name. For those who are unable to see that this pain and suffering lifts the veil that hides the truth of life and death from them, such moments and visions are terrifying. Some blessed mortals, however, are able to look beyond the putrescence and see the decay for what it is -- a gift from the Lord of All. There will come a time when they collapse entirely and the universe will begin a massive transformation. The old ways will be swept aside like a troublesome fly. All that was will cease to be, and from the rotted ruins a new and glorious reality will emerge -- one dominated by Nurgle and his beloved children. Those who walk with Nurgle and aid him in bringing about this "Great Corruption," as Nurgle calls it, do so with joy in their hearts. They know that Nurgle's victory is assured and that when all things come to an end and life begins anew, they will have helped make it so. This makes theirs a life worth living, despite, and because of, the gifts of their caring master. All around this house, trees made of bone bear fruit that rots even as it swells. The leafless boughs of these ancient trees provide shelter for Daemonic birds that sing the funeral dirges of any unwelcome visitor. It is a house of pestilence, rot, and death. This is Nurgle's Mansion, also called the Mansion of the Plague Lord, and that means that it is also a place of hope and renewal. There can be no explanation for the strength that keeps this structure from collapse save that it is the dwelling place of the Lord of All, whose boundless energy, sense of eternal purpose, and limitless joy for his work finds perfect peace with the inevitability of decay.So many wondrous joys! So many hopes and dreams! Oh, Plaguefather, your gifts are boundless! Still, I will make an accounting of them."

This insidious krew has returned to put the Stormcasts in their place. Leading the counter-charge is a fearsome Killaboss on Great Gnashtoof, prowling the wilds of Ghur for his unfortunate golden prey. He is accompanied by a Murknob with Belcha-banna to deflect enemy spells and three Man-skewer Bolt Boyz to shoot ‘em up with poison at long range.

After the XIV th Legion was reunited with its Primarch Mortarion on the Feral World of Barbarus, he renamed the Legion the "Death Guard" after the force of mortal warriors he had used to cleanse his homeworld of the foul race of Chaos sorcerers who had long enslaved its people. Mortarion's warriors were ever to be found at the centre of the battle line during the Great Crusade, their strength and determination the inheritance of their primarch, making them the unbreakable core of any Imperial army of conquest. Should the guest bypass these rooms and continue upward, they might find their way to the attic, where Nurgle keeps samples of his multitudinous works of decay, catalogued and counted over and over again by attendant Plaguebearers. In this attic are jars containing the viscera of plague victims from across time and space. Souls are trapped within apparently simple glass containers, left to slowly dim and fade as maladies of the spirit waste them to the bone. What a breath of fresh air in an otherwise crazy dic Life anywhere in the unfeeling galaxy is harsh, miserable, and full of pain and suffering. Service to an uncaring God-Emperor or an eldritch and absent cosmic deity is ultimately empty and devoid of meaning. Men live and die, and for what? For others to stand on their graves and proselytise? Where is the reward in that? For those who accept the boundless gifts of the Father of Plagues, however, everlasting hope is the ultimate reward.

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