This was some background I wrote for a Atournament during the storm of chaos for my Nurgle Daemon army. I found an old printout the other day and thought I’d commit it to this blog.
Within the Realm of Chaos lies a tower. Within this tower, the council of seven reside.
Here they plot to bring the mortal world into ruin for their master, so they may enjoy an eternity of decay and pestilence. For thousands of years have they plotted and waged war, yet the world is still not theirs.
With the crowning of the ever chosen, a new opportunity has arisen for the council to march forth in the name of decay. Far and wide will they travel, besting armies of all races, with the sole purpose of fulfilling their greedy plans and pleasing their master.
Dracus the ill-hearted is one such member of the council. Although the council appear to work as one, a daemons way is to plot and scheme and have ultimate power over others.
Although a powerful daemon, dracus is still regarded as inferior compared to his fellow council members. With his strength now growing stronger by the day, he marches into the world of men, his aim is clear, destroy all who oppose him in the name of Nurgle.
Dracus the ill-hearted sat montionless in the his throne, the rhythmic tapping of his index finger the only sign of his consiousness.
He grew weary of this talk about the upstar Archaon and grew impatient at the name of Bel’akor. The one they called Valten however, was a mystery to him.
He spoke up, his voice echoing across the great hall, bringing the squabbling to an immediate halt.
“My fellow princes, our master is Nurglitch most powerful of the gods. With his smallest finger do empires crumble and decay. He is the natural order of the world, yet we stand here and bicker over whose banner we fight under.”
He stood, hoping the others would listen to his wise council.
“We fight not for the human Feytor, for he is the puppet of the upstart and blessed only by Nurgle to protect against the mocking of his brothers. We fight not for Bel’akors, for he has wronged us many times. No, we fight for ourselves, for the council, FOR OUR MASTER.”
He looked around and was pleased to see heads nodding in agreement.
“So it is decided then, we march to war.”
Fluff: Dracus the Ill-Hearted