SHORT SUMMARIES

The Afflicted, Warband of Nurgle

The Afflicted are a warband Led by Poxus Festerbreath, Champion of Nurgle. During his four
hundred years of service he gathered a motley band of followers ranging from mortal to daemonic
servants, mutant monstrosities from the troll country and throngs of beastmen from the Drakwald.

Characters
Poxus Festerbreath/Helmut Langweil
Poxus was once known as Helmut Langweil, the Captain of the City Guard of the Hochland town of
Docksburg. He was manipulated by the chaos power Nurgle into foiling the advance of another
chaos Champion dedicated to the rival chaos power Tzeentch.

Gangrimus Blightsword/Yorin
Gangrimus, formerly known simply as Yorin, was Helmut's lieutenant before the warband
formed. He eventually took the name of Gangrimus Blightsword and is the leader of Poxus' cavalry
contingent.

Septus Rotmaw
Septus Rotmaw attempted entry into the cavalry ranks, however Gangrimus held a personal grudge
against him. Septus had attained a war horse by killing its previous master in the customary
initiation rite duel, so he took it and formed a cavalry division of his own.

Units
Chaos Knights Unit 1
The first cavalry division are the remnants of the mounted Docksburg city guard who fought under
Helmut as they broke the siege of Docksburgh.

Chaos Knights Unit 2

The motley crew of Septus' chaos knights are various misfits not meeting the harsher requirements
of Gangrimus' Sullied.

Chaos Giant
Molluk is a giant who changed allegiance from an Empire force after Poxus swept in and
annihilated the Khorne army that had obliterated Molluk's empire allies.

Minotaur 1
The minotaur is a peasant child marked by chaos saved from a lynch mob as Poxus raided their
village. The warband takes him in and in time he grew into a powerful bestial creature.

Warriors Standard bearer

Text here

SUMMARIES
The Afflicted, Warband of Nurgle
The Afflicted have been tied to the aftermath of the Battle of Docksburgh Gate. Docksburgh was the
seat of power of a small Hochland Barony that suffered a failed harvest in the fall of 1445. As the
Baron of Docksburgh and his council argued over how to deal with the projected famine, disaster
struck again as raiders from the north were reported in nearby counties.
At first the reports were ignored, what with the Docksburgh council being far too distracted by
handling the sudden influx of starving peasants flocking to the city. This unfortunately led to
Docksburgh being woefully ill prepared as an strong chaos force revealed themselves and laid siege
to the city.
A number of weeks later the Docksburgh food stores had run out. Thousands of people in the city
were starving and the city guard was struggling to keep the unruly mobs under control. Disease had
started to break out due to the appalling living conditions and all the while the invading chaos army
was preparing for an assault on the city walls. Things were looking bleak indeed.
In the early morning eight weeks after the siege had began, the gates of Docksburgh opened. The
captain of the city guard, Helmut Langweil, rode at the head of what seemed to be the entire city of
Docksburgh and all the peasants from ten miles around the city that had sought refuge within its
walls. The immense mob of plaguestricken, dirty, furious peasants fell upon the surprised chaos
force. On the muddy fields outside Docksburgh Gate nearly all of them met their doom, but not
before they had overwhelmed the chaos force through sheer numbers.
A few surviving members of the city guard and an assortment of filthy peasants mad from hunger
and disease was all that was left of the population of the Docksburgh barony. Captain Helmut
rounded them up, salvaged what provisions he could from the defeated army and led them away
from the accursed city of Docksburgh.
Some scholars and historians have since nominated Helmut Langweil and the plaguestricken
survivors of Docksburgh as the likely founders of the Afflicted, a chaos warband that would plague
the Empire over the course of the next six hundred years under the leadership of the Nurgle
Champion Poxus Festerbreath. The first records of the Afflicted's deeds appear some twenty years
after the battle of Docksburgh Gate and some other facts around the Docksburgh famine have

attracted the attention of historians and scholars of the occult.

Firstly the Barony of Docksburg was the only region to suffer a severe crop failure that year whilst
the neighbouring provinces were experiencing normal harvests. Secondly the defeated chaos force
could have been none other than the one being led by the notorious Vyzyx Brightflame, a Tzeentch
Champion that blazed a trail of plunder and slaughter from the Troll country in the summer of 1445.
From the blackened crops that led to the oversaturation of Docksburgh, to the sudden outburst of
sickness that turned the peasants into a raging mob capable of defeating a potent Tzeentch force,
occultists have strongly suggested that the hand of the chaos power Nurgle was involved in the
events leading up to the battle of Docksburgh Gate. If the warband known as the Afflicted truly was
Helmut Langweil and the ragged survivors of Docksburgh, it appears they attracted Nurgle's
attention and gained his favour for a long time to come.
***
Chaos Knights Unit 1

The Sullied
led by

Gangrimus Blightsword
A common feature amongst the members of The Afflicted is the distended gut and extra bulk that
comes as a side effect of Nurgle's many blessings. One place where this trait is held in extra high
esteem is the Knights' squadron, lending a welcome boost to the devastating charges that armoured
heavy cavalry are so rightfully feared for.
The First cavalry unit of The Afflicted is formed from the remnants of the Docksburg mounted
guards force. Helmut appointed his right hand man, Yorin, leader of the unit for his long and trusted
service in the Docksburgh City Guard. From amongst the surviving members of the guard Yorin
formed the cavalry contingent of the warband. Their mounts, having long since contracted a number
of Nurgle's blessings themselves, now carry Yorin and his fighting brothers into battle as knights of
Nurgle.
Yorin adopted the name The Sullied for his unit, according to his speech following his promotion
after the battle of Docksburg Gate. Thusly he spoke: We have been sullied, in body and in spirit as
well as in honour. In this victory we have redeemed some of our dignity but we remain soiled by the
way we have let our fallen brothers down today. Hour honour remains stained by rotting away
behind those damned city walls for so long. We were cowards, but we fear no longer. We shall seek
to cleanse ourselves by bringing retribution to the wicked, like what we have done here today. So
we shall be the Sullied, to remind us each day of the shame we have yet to wash away.
Yorin himself took the name Gangrimus Blightsword after a skirmish with a Middenheim Duke. As
Yorin had felled seven of the Duke's militia in quick succession, Nurgle's eye must have been drawn
towards him. His sword started emanating a foul smelling vapour and all the enemies touched by its
blade rapidly degenerated and slouched into rotting heaps before him. The phenomenon didn't
repeat itself but Yorin held on to the blade ever after, regarding it a holy relic once the channel of
Nurgle's might. Centuries after he could still be seen felling enemies with the same rusty, chipped
blade.
Chaos Knights Unit 2

Scions of the fly

led by

Septus Rotmaw
Amongst the ranks of the other warriors it is only the most prominent that can hope to be adopted
into the Sullied. This goes both for sheer size and fighting skill, since two things are required to
become a member. Firstly the current knights will only accept an individual of a stature as
impressive as their own. Secondly, steeds capable of carrying a fully armoured warrior of Nurgle
are usually not readily available. Consequentially, one of the current knights need to be bested in
single combat to attain his war horse. Conveniently, this will probably also get you the respect of
the other knights seeing as sheer combat prowess is a valued trait in any chaos warband.
It is rare, but not unheard of for a challenging warrior to best a knight in a duel yet still not gain
admittance into the knight's squadron. What typically happens is that the contender is mangled to a
pulp by the remaining members after having killed a respected member of their group. On one such
occasion, Septus Rotmaw held his own against Gangrimus and three of his Sullied until the
prolonged duel was called to a halt by Poxus lest he lose some of his best warriors. Septus, still not
welcome in The Sullied formed his own cavalry unit. He rode alone into battle until the Afflicted
acquired some more steeds from a clash with a rival Nurgle warband. Septus and his closest
companions from the foot troops formed the second cavalry fore of Poxus' warband under the icon
of a swollen fly.
Chaos Giant

Molluk
Tracking a rival Khorne warband, the Afflicted catch up to them as they are clashing with an
Empire force determined to rid them from the region. Poxus holds his force back to watch the battle
unfold. As the Khorne warband annihilate the Empire force they turn to finish off the giant ally.
Poxus sounds the charge and defeat the Khorne warband, saving the giant from certain death. The
dimwitted giant swears fealty to his new found friends, follows them along and as time goes by
attracts a few interesting conditions...
As Poxus came to the giants aid he was armed with a shield and a morning star. After deflecting a
series of rabid blows from the Khorne Champions twin swords he caved in his head with his own
weapon. The giant, impressed by this display, has taken to sporting the same kind of equipment in
battle. Since then he's been following Poxus on his journey and smushing his enemies into the
ground with his makeshift boulder flail with childish fascination.
Minotaur 1

Bastien
Bastien was a peasant child touched by chaos. Having hid in the forest nearby his native village this
child displayed both the bestial traits of horns and bestial facial features, as well as a misshapen
body. One winter when food had been hard to come by Bastien sneaks into the village to try and lay
his hands on a goat or a chicken but alas the villagers catch him in the act. The angry mob is just

about to lynch the poor daemon child from the woods as Poxus warband show up to raid the
village's stores. The villagers are promptly slain and Bastien freed. Poxus recognizes Nurgle's
blessings in the child and offers him entry into the warband. An outcast from society, the child joins
the warband and in time grows into a powerful creature, capable in battle and revered by the other
members as a living token of Nurgle's power.
A favourite pastime of the warband in campaign times is to give prisoners of war to Bastien and
watch him tear the poor victims apart and devour them.

Warriors Standard bearer

Guy de Lombard - The Black Dragon
The Standard bearer is a disenfranchised Bretonnian lordling who was next in line to rule a wealthy
dukedom. His uncle appears, allegedly to show his repects but in actuality to stage a takeover of the
throne. He sends an assassin to kill the lordling and ensure the succession falls to him, but the
assassination fails. Guy goes to confront his uncle, but alas he alerts the guards who have already all
been bribed into his service. The lordling, finding himself without allies and enemies all around is
forced to flee. His father was a merciless lord so there would be no help to be expected from the
general populace. Alone and hunted he hides in the forest. Sick, weak and hungry he encounters
Poxus' warband who move to put him out of his misery. Guy bids them to hold, offering in return
the knowledge of a wealthy fortress to plunder. And he knows the secret way into the fortress...

SHORT STORIES
NOTES
failed harvest
chaos invasion
retreat into the city
before long people were starving
sickness broke out
infighting tearing city council apart
mention henchman
all was doomed
might as well go down like a fighting man
rallied the troops
surprised to see how many had joined
ride out to face the horde

describe chaos abominations

he led the vanguard and charged the army head on
enemy army surprised by the direct attack
clashed with the chaos lord. description of the mighty tzeentch lord
the enemy ran him through with his sword
he pulled himself closer on the blade and decapitated him
a sound of dark laughter emerged from the turbulent skies
enemy army shocked by the sudden development
they fell upon the enemy and hacked and
enemies efforts fruitless
peasants dying in droves but one by one they dragged the armoured enemies
asunder in the muck and the mud
***
surveying the battlefeld
ravens circling
he spies his henchman standing there
describe his afflictions
and the afflictions of himself
he ponders his altered state
the sickness has made them tough
the sickness has made them set aside their differences
surely this is a better way to be... the world must see the light. The world must
be liberated. The world must embrace the fortifying gifts of papa Nurgle.

The sad tale of

Helmut Langweil
otherwise known as

Poxus Festerbreath
Champion of Nurgle
Captain Helmut Langweil of the Docksburg city watch was no stranger to struggles, but the winter
of (XXXX) was about to redefine his idea of what hardships really meant.
The harvest had failed severely that year and in the city the talks of how to get through the winter
were becoming difficult indeed. Unruly mobs were roaming the streets angrily urging the city
council to open the grain stores. The city council knew there was not enough to feed the city
through the winter months, and differences were had over whether to let the public access what
little was left or whether it was better to reserve this for the vital functions of the city. Helmut's
second in command, Yorin, agreed with Helmut. Might as well open the food stores and use up
what there was, there was no point in hoarding it. There wasn't enough around anyways to feed the
noble families and the city officials until next year, they all knew that. Besides, what leader would
save food for himself as his subjects starved? There was a great way to find yourself swinging from
the rafters at the hands of an angry mob before too long.
That's when the enemy first was heard of. The word of raiders from the north sacking villages and
killing all resistance were ignored, such events not being entirely uncommon in these regions.
Besides, the location was remote and in all likelihood these raiders would disappear again when
they had gathered enough plunder. In any case the city of Docksburg was hard pressed to provide
sanctuary or relief help. But soon after came word that another, closer village had been destroyed,
and with that came accounts of unusual and horrible nature. Tales of men not wholly men, mingling
with strange beasts. Tales of sacrifice and ritual slaughter beyond the typical violence of raiding and
plunder. Wives' tales, some said. Yorin wasn't so sure. He had operated in Nordland as a mercenary
in his younger days. He knew that the fairytales grew stranger and darker the further north you
came, and he sometimes mysteriously alluded to "the things he had seen on those tours". Exactly
what he would soon hush up about when pressed on the matter, but it was clear that it troubled him
to some degree. "You don't need to know that." he would say. "It's enough that I do."
Following the troubling reports, riders were dispatched to warn the villages in the region about the
oncoming threat. Helmut was leading a patrol to notify the nearby market town of Zahlensdorf
when they made first contact with the enemy. As they approached smoke could be seen rising over
the hills and before they came any closer an ululating cry broke the silence. Beastlike men broke
from the thickets, cloven-hoofed abominations with horned heads, hefting clubs and spears and
rusty swords. They were clad in tattered rags and whatever bits of armour they wore were battered,
soiled and stained. After an initial brief clash the Docksburg patrol quickly found themselves
outnumbered and so they spurred their horses, broke through the ranks of their assailants and
headed back towards Docksburg at double pace.
With word of the raiders being near, panic soon spread in the surrounding countryside and people
flocked to get inside the safety of the walls. More heated debates were had in the council about the
precarious situation. Urgings to close the city walls were met with fear of uprisings and revolt. In
the end the gates were closed, but not after the majority of the countryfolk had taken refuge inside
the city.
On the fifth day after the Zahlensburg skirmish the enemy made an appearance to lay siege to
Docksburg. Helmut was in the mess hall with the guardsmen having lunch, the few paltry bits of
bread and dried strips of meat that a daily ration amounted to. The door was flung open with a crash
and a guardsman stormed in. Short of breath he explained that the enemy was lining up outside the

city walls.
From the parapets of the Docksburg wall Helmut assessed the foe through his spyglass. The
misshapen beastmen they had encountered outside Zahlensburg were present in great numbers,
mostly forming random encampments around the outer perimeter od the enemy camp.
The remaining army consisted of a mixed rabble of troops. Some were almost naked, wearing little
more than a fur loincloth and boots. The more elaborately dressed were wild looking mean in bear
skins and wolf skins, sporting great braided beards and horned helmets. Northeners by all accounts,
the raiding barbarians of the icy bays. Others yet were encased in full plate steel of strange and
horrible designs, carrying shields with leering faces and mysterious symbols. Emerging from the
forest edge came a column of riders, their huge war horses clad in barding of the same dark ornate
steel plate as their masters. Big packs of war dogs were emerging from the forest too, kept in check
by handlers with barbed whips and lashes. Monstrous they were, with huge slavering jaws and some
near matching the horses in sheer size. Helmut looked at the enemy horde and his heart sank.
Things were bad enough inside the city with the mob and the quarreling selfish nobles. Surely here
was an even greater foe camped right outside their walls.
Before long the food issue became painfully obvious. The council had finally yielded to the
pressure of opening the grain stores for fear of the mob revolting. They were emptied in a day.
Helmut had to lead a party of the city guardsmen to break up a scrap as the rabble were fighting
over the last measures of grain. Yorin had suffered a nasty wound in the ruckus and wasn't back on
his feet yet. Within weeks people were feeding on rats and dogs. Pigs, cows, goats, even horses had
been eaten. Patrols in the city were being carried out on foot, city guard horses safely locked away
in the barrack stables lest the hungry mob would lose their heads seeing all that meat walking in the
streets.
The council found themselves with a new issue to quarrel over. Should they wait inside the walls or
take the fight to the enemy to break the siege? Either option seemed hopeless, everyone knew the
food situation was dire. With the enemy camped outside they couldn't even send out hunters into the
surrounding woods to replenish their meagre stores. But the force outside was much too strong to
overcome, that seemed certain. Helmut had found himself against the idea of a counter attack at
first, level headed as he was. But as each day passed he could only see them all get weaker inside
the walls. Wasn't it better to take the fight to the enemy after all? Better to die sword in hand taking
some of those bastards down with him. Yorin had been for this too since early on, he had been more
clearsighted about what was in store for them. There was a lot of fight left in that old dog, or at least
there had been before he had been consigned to the infirmary with his festering wound.
Speaking of, there had been an outbreak of sickness in the city as of late. Hardly surprising, with so
many people packed inside the walls. Troubling as it naturally was, Helmut could see a strange
mixed blessing in this development. For some the suffering was finally over and they were
hopefully at peace in whatever afterlife that had awaited them. And the survivors were busier now,
gathering up plague victims and burning them. It left them with less time to stage uprisings and
stand outside the city hall and implore the council to resolve the food matter. Although some still
did, and now they were also urging them to fix the sanitary problems - as if that was in the council's
power. Fools.
It was only a few days later Helmut woke up from a feverish dream in the early morning hours. A
shadowy figure in a tattered robe had beckoned him in the dream, barely visible amidst the mist and
smoke. He had moved towards the figure, but his legs wouldn't carry him. He was weak now,
famished and also set upon by the dark plague that had troubled the city for a while. He looked
down upon his legs and found them riddled with pocks and sores. He got on his feet, unsteadily, and
shambled towards the figure again. "Come." he heard the figure murmur. "You are ready..." He kept

stumbling towards the robed figure and it felt good. He didn't know what the robed figure had in
store for him but he felt in his bones that it was salvation of some kind.
He sat upright in his bed, cold sweat on his forehead, breathing rapidly. In a split second he had
made a decision. There was no way he would allow himself to succumb to the famine and the
plague. There was no way he would sit on his haunches until some damned harbinger of doom
would whisk him away to an afterlife he wasn't ready for yet. If his time had come he would choose
his own fate, he would go down fighting. Damn those devils outside the city walls, he would wade
through them and take as many of them with him as he could.
An hour later he was sat in the saddle of his war horse inside the main city gate. Behind him were
the gathered forces of Docksburg, as they were. He had roused the rest of the guards force and they
had ridden through the streets announcing the battle to come. All able bodied men were to assemble
at the gate if they wanted a chance to show the invaders what for. The turnout was surprisingly
large. Helmut distinctly got the impression every single living soul of Docksburgh had showed up
to join the attack. There were thousands crammed into the square. Whatever weapons and armour
people had stashed amongst their family heirlooms had been brought along and it looked like every
cleaver, pitchfork and sharp utensil in the city had been gathered up to arm the rest.
As the sun broke the city walls opened and Helmut rode out at the head of the guards force. Hot on
their heels streamed the rabble of the Docksburg town militia like a great filthy tide. They fell upon
their besiegers who were caught by surprise by this sudden counterattack. Warriors started from
their sleep and scrambled for their weapons. Before they knew it Helmut and the Docksburg force
were in their midst, hacking away.
It didn't take long for the enemy force to react to the lightning attack however. The savage war
hounds came running in great loping strides, piled into the great mob and tore people to pieces with
their huge jaws. Hot on their heels were the savage beastman, howling and braying and swinging
their warclubs. The northern raiders soon followed suit, laughingly striding into battle with huge
war axes. Helmut ventured a guess this siege business had been testing their patience, the way they
seemed to rejoice in the fighting. Many fell to their blades but the seemingly inexhaustible tide of
dirty peasants showed no signs of ending.
Helmut's cavalry charge had taken him deep into the enemy camp, chopping down surprised
warriors until finally losing momentum. He was swinging at the gathering enemies left and right,
when suddenly a huge warrior in full plate mail stepped out in front of him. Helmut charged at him
but with surprising speed for a man wearing that much armour, the warrior sidestepped, spun on his
heel and brought his two handed sword down in a mighty arc. The blade caught Helmut's war horse
right in the neck and decapitated it in one blow. Crashing to the ground, Helmut was thrown off the
horse and rolled in the mud. The warrior turned to face him and brught his blade down in a second
massive strike. This time it didn't find it's mark as Helmut rolled and escaped by mere inches.
Driven by the sheer force of the blow, the blade stuck deep in the mud and Helmut got to his feet as
the warrior was still struggling to free his sword. This time it was Helmuts turn to strike and a
moment later the warrior was stumbling backwards, his severed arms still clutching his sword
sticking up from the ground. A second blow downed the warrior, and as he fell Helmut saw behind
him in the turmoil of battle the same robed figure he had spied in his dream. He was hard to make
out in the turmoil of battle but amongst the moving bodies Helmut could see him beckon again and
then turn and walk away.
Around him the battle raged, the invaders now bringing more of their force to bear. The enemy
cavalry had assumed formation and worked around the flank. Their charge was devastating, each of
the knights impaling several of the dirty Docksburg rabble on their lances. But the greater numbers

of the defenders showed, and the knights were torn from their horses and swamped by the mobs of
angry townspeople.