Paradrian awoke to the screams of terror from far below the palace. A sigh of displeasure escaped his lips as he thrust himself up, pushing his many consorts off his bare form. His eyes a sleepy flicker, and his movement an intoxicated waltz, he worked his way to the windowed side of the room, and onto the balcony overlooking the city below. Not caring to cover himself, he stretched out over the rails, peering down at the unwinding mayhem. His jaw hung low in a languid posture, and he rubbed his eyes as they adjusted to the morning's radiant light.
The screams grew in volume and size, echoing farther until it smothered Paradrian's drunken features. He reeled back, holding his head as the aching of the loud noise set in. Without thought, he returned to the room, quickly reconciling his senses through a glass of wine. The indulgence occupied him, unintentionally diverting his attention from the sound below as he slunk into a luxurious purple cushioned chair. Slowly, he delved back into slumber, reawakened seconds later by the thundering sound of bells below. Unnerving headaches pounded in his head again, and he staggered out of his chair and onto the balcony once again.
Below, the mayhem had increased tenfold in the few short minutes that he had left its view, and now the entire city was sprawled out in disorder. Loud banging erupted from behind, and he clenched his teeth and the consistently renewed headache. Turning, he stomped towards his quarter doors with all the merits of rage, intoxication, and pain in mind. The knocking stopped briefly and Paradrian swung the grand oak door open.
A warrior fitted in purple metal that was heavily decorated in gold stood before him. A look of confusion and surprise trickled across his face as he looked at the naked figure who had opened the door before he regained his posture.
"What... is the problem?" Paradrian sneered as he brushed his long golden hair from his face.
"N-Nurgle, prince... Th-they come to us with weapons unsheathed. They border our lands and will be here before nightfall." Rage enveloped Paradrian at the mention of pestilence sunk in, diminishing the remaining feelings of the previous night's wine. His face distorted and his hands clenched, he turned from the reporting warrior and confided in the balcony's overlooking view of the city and its reigning lands.
His eyes scoured the borders of the city walls and in an instant, the pale green lines that moved slowly towards it came into view. A bellow of offense and defiance poured from his mouth as the first bombardment of plague hit the city's walls. He turned in place and reentered his sleeping quarters, the warrior still standing at his door.
"Orchestrate my legion, and send for my outfitters!" he blared at the warrior. Seconds later, a retinue of aids stumbled in, each carrying a select piece of ornately carved silver and gold armor. Fitted and armed with a weapon, Paradrian strode from the room, advancing through the corridors of the palace to meet his legion.

A low chuckle erupted from his throat, more gurgling than laughter. His eyes were like vivid amber beneath the cowl, and his teeth were rotted and yellow. Mortiferous grinned disturbingly and sniffed the open air.
"Pretty," he laughed mockingly. Around him, the ground seeped bile and ooze. The air churned in unnatural fumes and smelt of flesh that had been rotted long after death. He looked around, staring and grunting with satisfactory nods as his army continued its pursuit on the city. He slowly moved forward onto a risen mound, his ogre-sized body shuffling sluggishly and his stomach's entrails swaying morbidly from his ripped open gut.
Far ahead, packs of mangy hounds rushed forward, a small trail of deadened and malnourished earth forming behind them. As they reached the city's gates, screams of fear and alarm shot out, reaching Mortiferous' ears. His grin widened.
"Embrace death..." he divulged, planting his mighty poleaxe deep into the dirt. "And let death embrace you." As if compelled by the words, the army increased their speed; the sound of their steps quaking out, and the ground beneath their feet erupting in putrid puddles of filth. The rumbling ambience of rusted metal grew in noise, and the corroded metal wheels of numerous hellcannons thundered in noise. The sky reposed a horrid green, and the wind picked up, eagerly guiding the stench of death to the city's doors.
A putrid figure trudged up the uprising mound towards Mortiferous. Similar in appearance to the Chaos Lord, his guts hung grotesquely from his belly, and his face was covered by a metal plate, three small holes serving as its only openings. Between his shoulder blades was a large metal pole buried deep into his back. At it's tip was the deceased head of an unknown victim, and below it a banner than blistered and warped in appearance, silently bellowing the name of the Lord of Decay.
"...Mortiferous..." he approached in a low voice, honoring his leader's position. "Their bells ring out in panic." The words hung in the deathly air, as Mortiferous considered the news.
"Their screams are of panic and mayhem... Their bells foreshadow death and decay. Order the hellcannons their due, and flood their city with metal and plague." His lips formed into an abhorrent grin of rotted bone. "Before this day has met its end, the pompous boy-servant of excess will meet my breath and despair."


Paradrian's army was set out like an elegant symphony. A host of cloaked figures swarmed at its front while a wall of impenetrable purple metal stood at its back, only to be flanked by two abhorrent creatures. Numerous tentacles lined in metal strips slithered endlessly from purple carapaces. The shells were layered and spiked, holding down the chains that connected them to the alters.
On one alter, a magnificent portal stood erect on marble tile, a continuum of time and space echoing endlessly through its surface. On the other, an exquisite pool lay affixed to similar marble flooring, its contents a swirling mixture of purple and white liquids.
As Paradrian descended the stairs, the blaring of horns greeted him with graceful notes and alluring sounds. He waved his hand dejectedly to silence the song and took on the posture of a commander. His eyes washed over the assembled force and he nodded his acceptance. The warrior from earlier approached him and he now recognized the figure as his personal standard bearer.
"Everything is in order, sir. All will be in position at your word." Paradrian considered him for a moment. He was well built and strong, and his armor was more distinguished than the other warriors who were gathered. The helmet he carried in his hands ended in two white plumes rather than the one that garrisoned the rests. Surely he must have surfaced a number of impressive feats in order to gain his position, but Paradrian recalled little more than the fact that he was his standard bearer.
A simple nod served as the reply, and in an instant, the implied standard bearer was bellowing orders and the gathered force dispersed to their positions. Outside, the clash of metal could be heard from the distant city gates, and the screams of pain and agony were horribly vivid.
Paradrian listened intently as he stood alone in the main hall. The morning had unraveled quickly and he had not yet eaten. As quickly as the thought had entered his head, he raised his hand and with the slight movement of two fingers, signaled for a servant to bring him the luxuries of fine wine and pastries. He took in his fill and licked his fingers clean before departing, a look of determination sprawled across his face once more.

The walls had been met with little resistance, and within an hour, the former gate was little more than a broken heap of corroded metal. A horde of warriors in pale green armor surged into the city. The few guards that had stood in their way were turned from lively figures to wreathing corpses, and the guards that stood just within the gates were witness to the terrible plague. Fleeing in terror, their armor slowly rusted and liquefied, the melting metal infusing itself with skin in a molten amalgamation.
The barrage of putrefying upheavals erupted endlessly from the hellcannons, leaving the walls of the city distorted and rotted. Mortiferous glared eagerly at the ensuing pandemonium, the standard bearing figure once again standing beside him.
"How easy it is to fell those who falsely revel in excess," Mortiferous exclaimed, more to himself than to his standard bearer. He pulled his poleaxe from the ground, laying it across his shoulder so that the sickle hung at his back. "Let him revel in death and disease. Let his palace serve as a monument to Nurgle... a fortress of affliction to house his gifts!"
He strode forward, disembarking from the heave, his standard bearer following in his deadly wake. All around him the ground blistered further. The recesses of plague that had been left by his army swelled up, gathering both form and size. As he passed them, they grew defined and skittered from the pustules. A foot tall and nearly as fat, the Nurglings chattered indefinably, gurgling and laughing in imitation of their master.
Masses of them formed, grouping up and scurrying beyond the walls. Unaware guards were caught in their grasp, brought down like trees in the grasp of the Nurglings as they swarmed around them.
The edges of Mortiferous' lips grew into an impossibly wide grin as he entered the city and glimpsed the prince step from his palace.