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Shedding the Darkness

2018-05-26T07:23:01Z

2600:1700:19C0:2760:800E:A866:C979:D26D:

{{Story}}
{{Monstergirls}}
{{Heresy}}

A fapfiction of a radical [[Inquisitor]]'s journey towards damnation with an atypical [[Daemonette]]. If you are scared of anything that resembles a [[Monstergirl]], or are a die-hard worshiper of canon, you might want to leave now. If you're not a fan of tentacles and/or transformation, you'll want to skip the fifth chapter. Otherwise, expect the standard NSFW gambit you might expect from a lamia cuddledomme.

== Corruption Within and Without ==

Blood seeped from the gash in Kraegus’ torso as he dragged himself into the waiting shuttlecraft. The freshly minted inquisitor had flown too high, too quickly, and now he was about to pay the ultimate price for it. Each step was pure agony, multiplied by the abominations writhing within his blood. It would not be long before the warp-infused boreworms consumed him from the inside out, and Kraegus was determined not to leave the Khornate Cult a body to defile and corrupt.

Still, as he finally reached the control console, his vision was already blurring. Each movement of the beasts inside of him could be felt, and it took the last of his strength to bring the Auto-Pilot online. Collapsing to the floor, Kraegus twitched senselessly as the shuttle began to rocket away from the accursed asteroid colony. Before the void took him, his one comforting thought was that he had at least taken a dozen of the cultists with him.

“My…My…what have we here?”

The Inquisitor opened his eyes, only to find pitch darkness surrounding him. He was suspended, floating as though immersed in a dark liquid that threatened to consume his senses. “Is this the afterlife?” he wondered, only to be surprised when the twilight responded.

“No, not quite. I managed to pluck your soul away before you reached the Formless Wastes,” whispered a voice. It was highly feminine in nature: sensual, yet somehow familiar. Try as he might to locate the source, Kraegus found himself unable to move his body – a prisoner in his own skin. His eyes roved madly over the dusk before him, mouth trying to form words through the terror.

“W…Who is there?! Where am I? What have you done to me?!”

A pair of hands wrapped around his torso, and something pressed itself against his back. The voice returned, seemingly from right next to Kraegus’ right ear. “All in due time, my dear Inquisitor, all in due time. First, I want you to see something…”

----

Alysia’oeyythl grinned as she sensed the mortal’s fear rising. Though she was newly formed, the daemonette had enough knowledge and experience to manipulate souls like the one before her. This was the first step on the path to entering the Materium, and in enacting zealous hatred against those who dared worship She-Who-Thirsts’ immortal enemy. The key would be in making this human her puppet…

----

Something small and red faded into existence before Kraegus, wriggling about repulsively. It was one of the tainted boreworms, a segmented, red worm with a gullet filled with teeth and hooks designed to tear into exposed flesh. Once inside a victim, they broke apart, multiplying rapidly while inflicting unimaginable pain as they ate the being from within. Those infected were lucky if they perished before the beasts burst from their ravaged forms, starting the cycle anew.

A favorite terror weapon of Khorne Cultists, it had been the Inquisitor’s duty to track down the source of an outbreak on the hive world of Rayna. His search had led him to an asteroid belt in a neighboring star system, where the cultists had a breeding ground of the creatures. There, Kraegus had been wounded by a sinister weapon: a hollow blade containing a few of the worms, designed to snap off once it had pierced flesh. He had been fortunate to make it to the shuttle and escape, but that did not explain his presence here.

Frowning, the dark-haired man watched as the worm began to grow in front of him. Shortly, it burst, erupting new worms in the space in front of him. “And to think…that could have been you, had I not come along,” said the voice, the spectral hands moving up and down his chest as it continued. “You must be grateful, to have been spared from such a fate…”

As if to punctuate this notion, the hands slid down to his stomach and gently pressed inward. Moments later, Kraegus felt the sensation of several worms tearing through his gut. But the pain didn’t stop there. Everywhere the hands traveled over his body, more of the tiny terrors emerged, bursting from his skin and adding to the collection around him.

“ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT!” he screamed, “I GET IT! JUST STOP!”

----

Laughing as she snapped her fingers, Alysia banished the creatures back into non-existence. As she allowed her prey a moment’s respite, she took an inventory of her form. Like most of her kind, Alysia’s form reflected that which the viewer found to be the perfect mate. This “perfection” was not without the taint of chaos, though the aura of which the daemonette exuded ensured that these would be accepted without question.

Still, the shape Alysia had taken momentarily confused her. Her lower body was that of a snake, a mass of coiled muscles covered by a scaled exterior. The upper half was humanoid in design, a mixture of dangerous curves contained by purplish skin that was accented by black scales which matched those below. Above the heavy breasts was a face marked by fangs and glowing, yellow eyes. A small hood, much like that of a cobra, contained her medium-length, blue hair, of which hid the pointed ears that jutted from her skull. It wasn’t the strangest form imaginable, but, to the greenhorn daemon, a puzzle all of its own. Clearly, her prize had interesting tastes…

----

As the pain subsided, Kraegus found himself filling with dread as realization struck him. He had died, or, been close to doing so. It was only by the “grace” of the daemon he had been spared, and, judging from the way it was lauding its control over his fate, he could easily be killed again. The Inquisitor had, at times, worked among his more radical peers, who employed such beings in the form of daemonhosts and vessels in the hopes that they would be useful tools against the chaos they sprung from. Though he had never been brave enough to “take the plunge” with a cell of his own acolytes, Kraegus could not argue with the results such heretical methods obtained. Still, the position he was in was not at all desirable.

“…Is this where you tell me that my soul is yours? That I’m to be your vessel until I am slain for being a blight on the shining Empire?” he muttered, trying to ignore the hands caressing his body.

“A bright one indeed, but no. I plan to only occupy your soul temporarily. It is my wish to gain a material form in your realm, and you are going to help me, one way or the other. Though…” Alysia’s hands moved down to the man’s thighs, gently stroking the interiors as she continued, “I think you’ll find it far more pleasant to do so willingly…”

The knowing touches of the daemon were not hindered by the body suit which adorned Kraegus’ entire body, much to his dismay. He had never experienced the pleasures of a woman before, but was determined to at least offer some resistance.

“And what if I refuse completely?” he spat, “No amount of Rosette flashing will be able to save me from my fate, which is death whether it be now or later.”

“True, but I think we *both* know you’d prefer it to be the latter…” Nipping the Inquisitor’s ear, Alysia moaned softly to accent her alluring words. “Besides, our goals are one in the same, if you would believe me. But…if you wish…”

Snapping her fingers once more, the worms began re-materializing, only to coalesce into a larger form that threatened to engulf Kraegus as its maw turned toward him.

“NO! JUST! No…I’ll do what you ask…” murmured the man, feeling utterly defeated. “Just…get on with it.”

The next thing he was aware of was being spun around, the naked form of the daemonette finally fully visible as she drew him into a wet embrace with her tongue. Little by little, she evaporated, pouring herself into his body with a warm sensation. When the last of her was inside his soul, the darkness around Kraegus disappeared, revealing the interior of the escape craft. His body was completely healed, and a sense of contentment resonated throughout it. “Maybe this won’t be all that bad,” he thought, the daemonette's soft laughter accompanying his musings.

== Through the Looking Glass ==
A week into his journey back to Rayna, Kraegus was beginning to wonder whether he had imagined the entire affair. Though there was no trace of the tear in his torso, the supposed daemonette had not made her presence known in any way, shape, or form. The daemons the Inquisitor had encountered thus far struck him as a more prideful and boastful sort of creature, one that did not hesitate to remind those they had power over of their position. Thus, he was rather confused by her lack of contact, especially given her “speech” about having similar goals to his. Still, as Kraegus shuffled towards the shuttle’s small bathroom, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched.

----

Taking up residence in the man’s soul had taken more energy and effort than Alysia had expected. For what little she knew, such a task was supposed to be trivial, especially if the mortal in question willingly allowed entrance. Instead, she felt her powers weakened, and her thoughts seemed to slow to a crawl. Slowly drawing power from the soul she had curled herself around, the daemonette rested for a time.

When she awoke, Alysia was vaguely aware that the human was showering. Though the sensations she felt through him were muddled, reduced, they were strange and exciting. The way he experienced touch, smell, sight, all of it was different from her own. The warm water striking against his skin was delightful, but nothing compared to the feeling of air flowing in and out of Kraegus’ lungs. Was this what it was to have a shape in the Materium?

----

Slower than light travel had always been a tedious affair, and the shuttlecraft had little in the way of entertainment. As such, the Inquisitor took his time bathing and preparing for what felt like the fifth nap of the day. Shaving wasn’t necessary, but the mindless task brought him comfort. After running the crude razor through the cold water, Kraegus was surprised when his reflection in the mirror had shifted upon returning his gaze upwards.

The alluring, yellow eyes that stared back at him made his heart skip a beat. Alysia’s visage was beyond the term “beautiful,” despite the alien ears and odd, reptilian hood. Almost subconsciously, Kraegus’ hands wandered downwards to cover himself, which seemed to amuse the daemonette.

“Don’t bother. I’ve already seen your…what is that euphemism you’re so fond of…lascarbine?” she said, trying not to grin as the man blushed profusely.

“It’s not a…how did you…” stammered Kraegus as he reached for a towel to wrap himself with. “…not important. I was beginning to wonder whether you were just a figment of my near-death experience.”

Giggling, Alysia brought her hand up to her mouth. “Oh…I’m quite real, my *dearest* Inquisitor. The way you mortals get about is…boring, so I was off doing more important things.” That was a lie, but telling him the truth would only reveal just how vulnerable she was.

“…Right. Well I’m sorry my vessel isn’t capable of dipping into that hellhole you call home. We won’t arrive at Rayna for another few weeks. So congrats, you get to go off and do more ‘important things,” he quipped, turning away from the mirror. The concept that he was sharing his soul with a daemon still didn’t sit well with him, even if said daemon was rather bewitching.

A bluish, forked tongue emerged from the daemonette’s lips, far longer than any human’s as it wrapped around her index finger. Pulling said finger into her mouth, Alysia closed her eyes and tilted back her head with a slight moan. “Don’t be upset…I could always stay and play with you…” she whispered past the digit she was sucking absent-mindedly, “but I can see you’re not interested…”

Slowly turning in the mirror, she released the finger from her mouth and began to fade from view. “W…Wait!” shouted Kraegus, raising his hand as if to stop the mirror from walking away. “…What did you have in mind?”

The hood hiding the back of Alysia’s head tilted to the left as she turned back with a grin. “Eager, are we?”

“Maybe…I figure if I’m an abomination now, I might as well enjoy being one…” The Inquisitor’s hand lowered, his gaze falling from the reflective surface as he trailed off.

Nearly jumping in surprise as a hand brushed against his cheek, Kraegus’ eyes widened as he realized the daemonette had leaned out of the mirror. Most of her body was still inside: her arms, head, and torso being the only things exposed to the air. The intersection between her abdomen and the mirror was surrounded by a faint glow, waving and shimmering as it distorted the light. Yet, this would go unnoticed by Kraegus, his eyes drawn to the mammaries swaying gently beneath her arched back.

“See something you like?” Alysia purred, taking his hands by the wrists and moving them to her breasts. “Go on…I know how much you’ve always wanted to play with some…”

It was true, and Kraegus forgot to be angry at the fact she had read his mind as he began squeezing her mounds gently. They were heavenly soft, just large enough to be eye-catching, yet small enough not to detract from the daemonette’s other features. Much to his delight and amazement, the groping was met with soft moans and heavy breathing. Changing tact, he began swirling his thumbs over her areolas, teasing her nipples as Alysia bit her lower lip.

The mortal was clumsy, inadequate, but somehow the most pleasurable being to ever caress her skin. Perhaps it was because she had spent such little time in Slaanesh’s realm before capturing his wayward soul. Maybe it was because of the added sensation of having a semi-material form. Either way, Alysia couldn’t resist the delight working its way to her brain. Even better, she experienced both of their senses simultaneously, and the Inquisitor excitement was contagious.

“Do…Do you have a hand mirror?” she gasped, pulling his hands away so as not to become completely overwhelmed.

“Uhh…” The Inquisitor scrambled about the bathroom searching for one. Not finding the item of his quest, he leapt from the room to search the rest of the shuttle. Much to the daemonette’s delight, Kraegus’ haste had stripped his towel from him, revealing a rather eager manhood. She supposed he had other qualities of an “attractive” human: a semi-toned body and tanned skin, topped with blue eyes and ashen hair. Still, it wasn’t until she caught sight of his throbbing cock that she truly began to feel a sense of enticement towards her host.

Minutes later, Kraegus returned to the bathroom, panting as he held up a small mirror that he had found in the emergency locker’s supplies. “Found…Found this…”

“It will have to do…” mused Alysia, slipping from the main mirror into the one in the Inquisitor’s hands between blinks. Until the ritual, in which her charge would sacrifice a body to her and thusly give her a form to corrupt as she saw fit, she could only manifest partially in this realm. Still, it was enough for her to be able to extract some much needed energy and food.

Licking her lips, she instructed Kraegus to return to his bedroom, and to place the mirror at the foot of the bed. As she pulled herself from the small window into the Immaterium, the daemonette couldn’t help but giggle once more as an image of her coiling around him flashed acrossed the Inquisitor’s mind.

“My my…someone seems to have forgotten I can read his mind,” murmured Alysia sensually. She was now most of the way out of the mirror, only the lower half of her tail keeping her connection to the surface. Fully uncoiled, she towered over the man below her on the bed. Yet, as she wound her way down to scrape her nipples across his chest, she felt his sense of thrill grow.

“Now… where to begin…”

==Binding a Snake==

Kraegus’ heart felt as though it was about to burst from his chest, the excitement of the scene before him almost too much to bear. His daemonette “companion” had brought her upper half down to his, pressing it against him. The feel of her silken skin was surreal, as if an attempt to characterize true softness. Even more stimulating for the Inquisitor was the breasts sandwiched between their bodies, the bags of flesh gently scrapping against his chest as Alysia wiggled slightly.

Sticking out her tongue, Alysia began licking small, concentric circles about Krageus’ neck. “You see, my *dearest* Inquisitor, I am rather hungry…”

The quick nibble of the skin on the right side of his neck that followed this caught him offguard, and a flash of concern crossed his mind. “Oh, no…” whispered the daemonette, lapping at the holes her fangs had left in his flesh, “It’s not like that…”

“Then…what is it like?” Krageus asked, his hands slowly raising to caress her sides.

“I am not one of your…what do you mortals call them…cannibals. Your flesh is safe, parts of it anyways…”

“I’m not sure I follow…”

Sighing, Alysia withdrew her wet assault on his neck. After brushing the hair that had fallen across her face from her eyes, she shifted up to stare directly into the human’s eyes. “I need your essence, your energy. While your soul constantly puts out a minute amount, it’s not enough to sate my appetite.”

Krageus thought this over, pausing his half-hearted massage. Daemons certainly needed energy to flourish, doubly so outside their twisted realm. The more you gave one, the stronger it became. Was she being honest when she had claimed the residence in his soul was only to be temporary? Lies and word games were said to be the mainstay of dealing with such creatures, and the concept of some writhing beast bursting out of his chest was less than appealing.

His revere was broken by a nip at his left ear lobe, followed by a sensual sigh. “I don’t enjoy being confined to your soul any more than you do. But, it has its…advantages…” whispered Alysia. After spending a few more seconds of attention on the mortal’s ear with her tongue, she started a trail of saliva down his body as she pulled back. Coming to the man’s crotch, the daemonette slipped her mammaries about the full length of his throbbing rod with a soft, “Oh…”

Feeling delighted with the warm cock nested snuggly between her breasts, Alysia allowed a grin to spread across her face. Her connection to Kraegus allowed her to feel what he did, albeit slightly dampened. Thus, she felt the pleasure from both her own skin and his, something the daemonette took a few moments to enjoy before continuing her task.

Once again letting loose her forked tongue, she slipped it between her mounds to curl around the tip of Kraegus’ cock. The groan that accompanied this served to increase her arousal, only to become slightly annoyed when the man placed his hand on the top of her head. Smacking it away, Alysia held his arms at his side.

“No. You get to sit there and enjoy with my *loving* care.”

Her head began to bob, driving her tongue and mouth against the Inquisitor’s member with a the diligence usually attributed to a loving girlfriend. Each slurp, suck, kiss, and moan served to bring Kraegus wave after wave of ecstasy. His breathing grew heavy, hands struggling to break free of the daemonette’s hold.

Much to his surprise, he found the ligaments freed, only to realize that Alysia had taken up her mounds instead. The combined assault was pushing the man towards the edge, but the daemonette didn’t seem to mind. Rather, as if sensing the oncoming wave, her efforts doubled, drool and precum completely lathering both his rod and her breasts.

“I can’t…hold it…” Arching his back, Kraegus dug his fingers into the daemonette’s shoulders as he began to climax. Each throb shot a generous amount of cum into the air, which came splattering back down across Alysia’s face and mammaries. Six in all, she continued her work until the man was a gibbering mess, his body jerking and twitching with the overstimulation. Finally, she stopped, moaning as she began lapping up the seed on her skin.

Each swallow brought the daemonette a rush of both energy and pleasure. She also noted, rather bemused, that seeing her do this made Kraegus’ mind fill will countless, depraved scenarios. “All in due time…” she murmured, now cleaning his shaft. “...just think of it as… motivation…to get me a body…”

Once finished, Alysia pulled the man onto his side, slithering up to cuddle against him. “Now that I can think clearly, let us discuss matters.” Still lost in the afterglow of the experience, the mortal simply nodded. Tracing his biceps, she continued. “I do believe, my *dear* inquisitor, that you will be a rather capable tool in ending the blight against my Mistress.”

“Your…your Mistress?”

“Indeed, but let us not worry about her for the time being. Instead, what do you know of those who wounded you?”

“They were followers of the Blood God, a cult designed to spread strife and war across this sector.”

“Very good, but do you know how they formed in the first place?”

Kraegus paused, eyes occasionally drifting across her face as often as they did her body. Such information was outside his knowledge, and he found himself at a loss.

“No, I cannot say that I do.”

Giggling, Alysia tapped him on the nose. “What if I told you there was something far greater than a group of insane mortals behind this cult? Something that threatens not only your realm, but the balance of power in mine.”

“…Go on.”

“Well…” she said, drawing him closer as her lower body coiled slightly around his legs. “One of the Blood God’s followers is pulling the strings in a gambit to become a Daemon Prince. Trouble is, he reached too high, too fast, and now he’s possessed by one of those foul Bloodletters.”

“That sounds…lovely. I wonder how those blowjobs go…”

This earned Kraegus a loving smack on the top of his head. “Funny. But I know you understand the need to remove this individual, for both our sakes.”

Frowning slightly, the Inquisitor’s gaze locked onto hers. Her words, mired in deceit or not, were of grave concern. Such a powerful being in charge of such an expansive organization meant that it was highly possible that others below him were also merely shells for those from beyond. Finally, he found his tongue, “Yes. Yes I do.”

At this, Alysia bent in to kiss him once more. However, unlike the last time she had done so, she drew back almost immediately and looked away. “G…Good,” she muttered, practically diving back into the mirror and leaving Kraegus stunned.

==The Needs of the One==

The rest of the journey to Rayna was uneventful. Each time Kraegus caught something moving at the edges of his vision, his heart would leap, only to be disappointed when it wasn’t Alysia. The daemonette had not shown herself since feeding from him, much to his dismay. Still, the peace and quiet had given him time to mull over what she had said, and to come up with a plan moving forward. Eliminating the cult was certainly a priority, but freeing his soul had…other perks.

Meanwhile, Alysia had spent her time working on the specifics of the ritual that would give her a mortal form to inhabit. Though the generalities came with those memories and experiences given to her at “birth,” it was vital that the ritual be tailored to her needs. Without doing so, the human body she would corrupt might destabilize once the greater changes to it were affected. In addition, it was important that some link to Kraegus remain. Though it wasn’t necessary, the daemonette felt a perverse need to preserve their connection, if only to keep the mortal around for more “feedings.”

Gaining a private berth in the lower hive was a fairly simple affair. After all, when an Inquisitor demands a discrete landing location, they tend to get what they want. Once the shuttle had come to rest, Kraegus popped the hatch and stepped out into the musky air. Adorned in street clothes, he looked more like a ganger than one who wielded the power of the Inquisition. Earlier that day, he had awoken to find a simple note on his chest reading, “Find a woman who will not be missed, then return.” By his reasoning, any scum from the cesspit of the lower hive would do.

Still, the manner in which the abduction occurred needed to be handled delicately in order to avoid lingering questions. Casting a hood over his head, the inquisitor departed from the landing bay and entered the lower hive proper. The soupy air pooled around him, and it wasn’t long before the hustle and bustle of those poor souls living in the squalor met his ears. He had several choices to scout for prey, ranging from simple pleasure cults to the overcrowded jail cells of the precinct’s Arbitrator building. All it would take was a quick flash of his rosette, or a little sweet talking, and soon he would have a vessel for his “companion.”

Alysia watched with amusement as the man negotiated his way into what the mortals called a “pleasure cult.” Though the concept was highly Slanneshian in nature, they hardly even compared to those within She-Who-Thirst’s realm. Such knowledge was second-hand, but the view from Kraegus’ eyes was still rather unimpressive. A swath of drug addicts, whores of both genders, slavers, and otherwise dubious characters were throughout spotted the dim interior. It was a rather understandable choice of places to search for a female, but the daemonette still found herself wishing her host would have chosen a more “clean” source. She was not a daemon of Nurgle, after all.

It took only a few minutes of bargaining for Kraegus to leave with a prize in tow. The slave in question was already humbled, having been through several “masters” already. Making a mental note to inform the Arbitrators later, the inquisitor trudged back to the shuttle’s birth. Once inside, he led the woman he had bought into his quarters, leaving her there as he prepared the vessel for launch. While he was no expert in the affairs of the daemonic, Kraegus had enough knowledge to know that any ritual would probably be noticed by any psykers in the immediate area. Thus, by returning to orbit, his advancement down the path of damnation would hopefully go unnoticed. For the time being, anyways.

“Course…I won’t be able to hide a bloody daemon-in-the-flesh once this is done, no matter how much Polymorphine I acquire from Callidus,” the Inquisitor grumbled as the shuttle took them into the upper atmosphere. A soft laugh rang in his ears in response, causing Kraegus to jump slightly.

“Don’t…oh what’s the use…” he mumbled, pulling out the pocket mirror and gazing into it. “Alright, I got you a vessel, now what?”

Another giggle, followed by, “Well… first you’re going to draw a very specific set of symbols on her. Then…you’re going to ‘’fuck’’ her…”

==Corrupted Geneseed==
''(SKIP THIS PART IF YOU'RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH [[/d/]] MATERIAL)''

“Sloooowweerrr…That’s it…good…”

Kraegus sighed as his shaft began what must have been the fortieth, achingly-slow journey into the slave-woman’s folds. Alysia had been extremely insistent about this point, but something told him it was more about her twisted sense of pleasure than the ritual itself.

After chaining the woman he had acquired down to a table, the Inquisitor had gaged her before copying the symbols displayed by the daemonette in the mirror. The locations of the symbols were rather strange, ranging from the crux of the elbow to the underside of the kneecap. Once the slave-woman was properly prepared, Alysia had instructed him to begin pleasuring her, directing from the hand mirror placed on a nearby counter.

Her instructions grew shorter and more sensual with each thrust from the human. Alysia could sense how close both of the mortals were, having been forced to edge for close to an hour now. Their mixture of frustration and need for release was simply palatable, not to mention the sensations emanating from Kraegus’ cock. She might not have had one of her own, but the slave-woman’s folds caress was enough to make her savor the thought.

In any case, the daemonette soon grew to the point where she could no longer direct properly. “N…Now,” she ordered, to which Kraegus gladly complied.

His hips began rapidly thrusting, shoving his member in and out of the slave-woman’s channel. By now, her juices had all but coated the lower part of the table, as well as his crotch, leading to an extremely wet noise being produced from where their genitals met. Kraegus’ orgasm came within moments, but, rather than his seed, something else began erupting from his tip.

The slave-woman’s eyes went wide as a writhing mass formed within her. She had suffered many things under many masters, but this was something entirely new. The mass began to pulsate, sending electric shocks up her spine in conjunction with her cumming. In addition, the man who had bought her had grown silent, staring down at his manhood with a look of terror as he withdrew it from her slot. Had it not been for the ball-gag, the slave-woman would have screamed.

Tentacles, tens of them, had seemingly replaced the Inquisitor’s piece. Each was growing at a remarkably rapid pace, soon more than a few feet long. Wriggling about, they began plunging into the symbols on her skin, tearing the skin, muscle, and bones apart as they began spreading their vile corruption. Some even snaked their way back into all three of her holes, going so far as to tear off the ball-gag in their eagerness to violate the slave-woman.

While the affair was beyond pleasurable for Kraegus, he could not help but feel revolted. The woman before him was being transformed by the daemonic energy surging through the tentacles that now comprised his cock. Her legs began to fuse together, lengthening and growing to become a proper snake’s tail. Beneath her skin, a larger body was struggling to break through, the purplish skin tearing through the woman’s pink. As a hood grew out of the woman’s skull with a sickening crack, her hair turned blue and lengthened before ears jutted out from beneath it.

Much to the Inquisitor’s relief, he began noticing that the tentacles were detaching themselves from his cock and further digging into what was left of the slave-woman. His original member seemed to be intact underneath, but that was the least of his concerns. Exploding in a bloody mess, the remnants of the slave-woman were shed from the daemonette as black scales began popping from her skin.

Moaning, Alysia came to rest on the table before Kraegus, the bindings that had been holding her vessel down torn clean from their holds. She was at least a half larger than the human was, not even including her tail. Bemused, the daemonette began surveying her form, making sure that the ritual had been completed properly. Her increased size and glistening, diamond-like scales must have been the result of having the mortal edge, leading to more of his energy being poured into the ritual. Still, as she confirmed everything was in place, she came to regard the rather shocked and tired looking man standing a little ways away from the table.

“Awwww…you’re afraid of me, aren’t you?” Alysia purred, slithering off the table and through the macabre leftovers of the slave-woman. “You don’t need to be. I’m '''your''' daemonette, after all.”

Stammering, Kraegus backed up against the wall, “That…That doesn’t make this any better. You just made me watch…Oh Emperor…”

He leaned over, losing his stomach’s contents all over the shuttle’s floor. The entire incident had been a grim reminder of the fate that might have awaited him had he not accepted her deal, and now it was all he could think of. “I just…I can’t…”

As he hurled again, a soft hand came to rest on his back. “Shhhh…let it '''all''' out. Alysia is here for you.”

“But…” he coughed, wiping his mouth, “W…Why? You got what you want, so just kill me and get it over with. That’s how you daemons work, right?”

“Hrmmm…" she mused playfully, acting as if she was considering the thought. "No. I have a better idea.”

“And…what might that be?”

Lowering her head, the daemonette nipped his left ear before softly whispering, “I’m going to make you my ''eternal'' fucktoy…”

==A Loving Embrace==
Much to Alysia’s surprise (and dismay), her teasing was not met with delight. Instead, Kraegus simply fainted, straight into his pile of sickness. For a moment, the daemonette remained frozen in place, blinking slowly as she stared at the mortal’s body collapsed on the floor.

“Clearly, we need to work on your stamina…” she whispered, bending over to gingerly pick up the Inquisitor. Slinging him over her shoulder with ease, Alysia turned to survey the room of her “birth.” Remnants of the slave-woman littered the small cargohold, making for a sight that would have pleased both Khorne and Nurgle.

With a frown, the daemonette waved her free hand, channeling the power of the warp to instantly clean the room. However, only half of the room became spotless, resulting in the corners of Alysia’s mouth to sink lower. Such a trivial task should have been simple for her to handle, even in the Materium. “Had something in the ritual gone wrong?” she wondered, waving her hand once again to finish what she had started.

Lost in her worries, Alysia slithered towards the shuttle’s bathroom. As the vessel wasn’t designed with daemons in mind, she could only fit part of the way inside. It was enough to get Kraegus into the shower, though. Since he was still unconscious, the daemonette had to prop the Inquisitor upright against her upper body as the water washed over them both. She tried to be quick about it, as each minute that passed in the cold cascade seemed to sap her energy.

By the time her charge was washed of his accumulated filth, Alysia could barely move. Shivering, she dragged Kraegus back into the cargohold. After depositing him neatly in a corner, she wormed her way to the sleeping quarters, where she promptly ripped the blankets free of the beds. Returning to Kraegus, Alysia wrapped the cloth around her, but to no avail. Her body simply wasn’t producing enough heat, and it was shutting down. Teeth chattering, she glanced over at the human, sighing moments later as she realized what she had to do.

When Kraegus awoke, he found himself unable to move, restricted by a pleasantly warm embrace. Slowly opening his eyes, he realized that Alysia had coiled around him. Most of her lower body was tightly wound him, while her upper was cuddled against him like that of a lover. Lying on the floor of the cargohold, with blankets draped over them, it wasn’t the most comfortable position in the world. Yet, something about it was pleasurable all the same.

Turning his head, the Inquisitor came to regard Alysia’s face. Her eyes were closed, a small bit of drool seeping from her slightly ajar mouth. The cobra-like hood that normally was prominently displayed had deflated, leaving the daemonette looking rather much like a purple-skinned Eldar of sorts. Her hands were wound around his chest, pulling her close to his side. Breasts enveloping his arm, Kraegus almost forgot for a moment that she was a daemon.

“…Since when do daemons sleep?” Kraegus finally wondered, squirming as he tried to pry himself free. In response, the reptilian tail restricted his legs further, and the arms around his torso squeezed him tighter.

“Mmmpphrm…Nnooo…I don’t want to go on the cart…” mumbled Alysia, still lost in whatever fared for dreams for a daemonette. Her head nuzzled against the human’s shoulder, causing goosebumps of delight to erupt across his skin.

“…Damn that’s cute…” Grumbling, Kraegus closed his eyes and tried to get back to sleep. There were worse ways to fall to heresy, he thought as he slipped back into the void.

==Coils of Delight==

“Oi! Wake up! Wake up you useless git!”

Kraegus was roused from his slumber by the sensation of Alysia’s tail constricting around him. His eyes snapped open, revealing the daemonette’s disapproving glare.

“What?” he said while yawning. “I was actually enjoying my nap…”

Alysia’s frown deepened as her arms wrapped around his shoulders. “I’m hungry,” she murmured, failing to suppress the redness seeping across her face. It was too soon. She shouldn’t need to feed off the mortal’s energy this frequently, but the telltale pull of the warp was unmistakable.

“Well…it’s not like you needed to wake me up to do that. Besides, that’s kind of something I always wanted to experience. Being woken up with…”

The Inquisitor’s eyes widened as he found Alysia forcing her lips against his. Since when did daemons get embarrassed? Something was wrong. After allowing her to lead their tongues on a brief tango, he wiggled his head free. “What in the world has gotten into you?” he asked, scanning her face with a mixture of wonder and concern.

Her eyebrows furrowed in response. “You should know, after all this is *your* fault…”

“*My* fault? I don’t follow…”

“Hmph!” Leaning back, Alysia increased the space between their upper bodies to allow herself to draw a symbol in mid-air. “Tell me, how many points does this star have?”

“Six, of course.”

“Then *why*, my dear mortal, did you only draw five on that woman?”

It was Kraegus’ turn to grimace. “…Maybe because I was a little distracted. You know, with being forced to edge for hours on end like *someone* wanted.”

“Typical human, can’t focus on anything but pleasure,” Alysia growled, revealing her fanged canines. Her heartbeat quickened, and her coils around the Inquisitor tightened.

Wincing at the increased pressure, Kraegus shot back, “That’s rich, coming from a daemon.”

“Ssssss…” she hissed, hood flaring. “It’s your fault I’m like this. Instead of leaving an imprint of myself on you, you left an imprint of yourself on me.”

“Hah, so your plan backfired then. I can’t say I’m at all disappoint…” His diatribe was halted by Alysia slapping him across the face. When he turned his head back, Kraegus was stunned upon seeing tears forming at the edges of her eyes.

“Shut up! Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is?! I’m stuck having the equivalent of ‘emotions’ and ‘feelings.’ My powers are weaker than your most pitiful psyker, and my body is restricted by the rules of this mortal realm. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be! If my Mistress found out…”

By now, the tears were flowing freely down the daemonette’s face. If it wasn’t for the fact that her entire appearance was unnatural, Kraegus might have mistaken Alysia for a scared woman. Gingerly, he extended his arms so as to hug her, only to have her fall against his chest sobbing.

“It’s not fair! It’s not! I just wanted to be a good servant! But now I’m useless…worse than trash… pathetic…” As she continued to mutter incoherently, Alysia pounded her fist weakly against him. To her, it was as if her entire short life had collapsed around her. If she ever was forced back into the Immaterium, she was certain She Who Thirsts would torture her for eternity. There was no room for compassion or weakness in Slaanesh’s domain.

Meanwhile, Kraegus was left wondering whether he was still dreaming. Hugging the daemonette gently, his first thought was whether he should offer to end her suffering. After all, it was *her* fault he had fallen and gone against everything he once stood for. But, as he stared down at the top of her head, that malicious thought faded. As much as his Inquisitorial training had been ingrained into him, he couldn’t just abandon a being that had saved his life, let alone one that was now lamenting while coiled around him. Still, he allowed a small part of himself to wonder if this was all a setup before trying to comfort Alysia.

“There there…It will uh… be alright?” he offered, unsure what to say. He was an Inquisitor damn it, not a counselor! Lucky for him, he didn’t have to say anything more.

Alysia once again forced her long tongue into his mouth, cupping the human’s head as she led a slow waltz. As the dance proceeded, she found herself subconsciously grinding against him. “Damn the consequences,” she thought, “I’m going to enjoy this.” She loosened her hold around Kreagus’ lower half before further ravaging his face, moaning in delight. This allowed the mortal to add hip thrusts to her own, rubbing his manhood against her moistening vulva.

Several minutes passed, by which time both of them were panting in arousal and anticipation. Breaking the embrace, Kraegus pulled back just enough to put an inch between his face and Alysia’s. “Now, you said you were hungry?” he whispered, looking downwards past her perky breasts to where their genitalia were scraping against one another. “Why don’t we do something about that?”

Before she could respond, he pushed his throbbing shaft into her folds. His groan was matched by Alysia’s own, and her tail once against restricted around him. For a moment, they simply savored being joined to one another, before Kraegus broke the silence.

“That…it…*you* feel incredible, Alysia. But how are we supposed to have sex if you keep me wound up like this?”

She giggled, kissing him once more. “Simple, my dearest Inquisitor. You just have to sit there and enjoy…”

Kraegus’ eyes widened as the textured walls enveloping his manhood began churning against it. It was as if the daemonette had taken kegels to a whole new level, exacting precise control and pleasure over each inch of his cock. Each second that passed was better than the last, yet he didn’t feel the telltale buildup that usually indicated he was nearing the edge.

“I…hnnngh…How long do you plan on…”

“Oh…all night, my dear. After all, I have needs too…” Alysia whispered, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him back into a kiss.

==Epilogue==
A cacophony of clashing steel echoed throughout the corridor as Kraegus drove the mad priest back. It had taken several years to track down the possessed man, and to destroy his cult. Now, as the Inquisitor exchanged chainsword blows with him, it became clear that everything that Alysia had said so long ago was true. No simple priest could survive this long against his swordplay, let alone deliver blows that caused his arm to resonate.

Suddenly, Kraegus found his blade wrenched from his hands as it was sent sailing into a nearby wall. A moment later he was flung to the ground, with the priest standing over him ready to deliver the final blow.

“Pathetic. *This* is the best the Inquisition has to offer? No wonder you mortals are so easy to manipulate and kill. Your skull shall adorn my Lord’s throne, and I shall drink your blood in his honor! Wait, why are you laughing?”

“Because, you stupid daemonhost, you forgot one thing: My girlfriend.”

On cue, Alysia dropped from the ceiling and cleaved the priest in two with her own blade. As his blood spurted over them both, the daemon contained inside his body howled with the death of its host. For a moment, the outline of a bloodletter appeared over the priest’s corpse. It turned to face Alysia, snarling.

“YOU!”

“Yes, me.”

Waving her hand, the daemonette banished her mortal enemy back into the warp. Silence fell over her and Kraegus, the latter of which would be the first to speak.

“Next time, you get to be the bait.”

“Hah, funny. Somehow I think my tail is a little hard to conceal, don’t you?” She offered out a hand, pulling him to his feet with a smile. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

“As am I that you are.”

They shared a quick embrace, made slightly awkward by the fact both were completely coated in the gore of slaughtering the cultists. Retracing their route, the pair soon arrived back at their rust bucket of a shuttle. It had been modified throughout the years, mostly to accommodate Alysia’s form and unique climate requirements.

“So, what now?” asked Kraegus as the airlock cycled behind them. “If I recall, getting rid of that daemon *was* the only reason you saved me.”

Tapping his nose lightly, Alysia playfully shot back, “Oh, maybe at first. But you know, I think I much rather prefer it here in the Materium. After all, being substantial has its…perks…” She winked, sliding her hand down his chest to briefly brush against his crotch.

“And I suppose that having a daemon for a girlfriend has them as well…” Kraegus added, returning the grope with one of his own. “Dare I ask you do that thing with your tail again?”

“Of course, my Darling.” They hugged, then scurried off to the shower. Once clean, they retired to their oversized bed that now took up the majority of the cargohold. Cuddling against one another, Alysia slowly brought the tip of her tail up to wrap around the human’s thickening shaft. With a soft groan, Kraegus pulled her close so as to press her luscious breasts against him.

“I love you, Alysia,” he murmured, tilting his head in preparation for a kiss.

“And I you, Kraegus,” she responded, meeting his tongue with her own.

----

Elsewhere…

“Fucking…How do I keep failing? [[The Final Saga of Macha the Ever-Virgin: Extra Large Heresy|First the stupid redhead]], now one of my own...”

“Perhaps it’s because you actually secretly enjoy playing matchmaker?”

“HAH! THE GIRLY-MAN CAN'T EVEN MATCH A PAIR OF CARDS!”

“Really? Are you two doing this again? Just go fuck already.”

“WE ARE NOT…”

“You’re not fooling anyone, Khorne. We figured it out a LONG time ago.”

“I WILL BEAT THE LARD OUT OF YOU UNTIL IT ADORNS MY THRONE!”

“Hey, calm down there. So you’re getting laid, at least that makes you better than Zeech over here.”

“…I hate you all.”

==Gallery==
<center><gallery>
Image:LamiaHugs.jpg|She just needs his body heat. It's not like she actually likes the mortal or anything.
</gallery></center>

[[Category:Warhammer 40,000]][[Category:Stories/Warhammer 40,000]][[Category:Heresy]][[Category:Daemons]][[Category:NSFW]]

Death Guard

2018-05-25T22:54:03Z

2600:1700:19C0:2760:800E:A866:C979:D26D: /* Daily Rituals of the Death Guard */ what were ppl huffing that this seemed at all noblebright lmfao

{{Infobox Traitor Legion
|Name = Death Guard
|Heraldry = [[File:Deathguardlogo.png|250px]]
|Battle Cry = None; the Death Guard fights in total silence
|Original Name = Dusk Raiders
|Number = XIV
|Primarch = [[Mortarion]]
|Original Homeworld = [[Barbarus]]
|Current Homeworld = [[Plague Planet]]
|Champion = [[Typhus]]
|Specialty = Attrition, close-range firefights, mass infantry, bio-warfare, and zombie-swoleness.
|Strength = 95,000 during the [[Great Crusade]], is said to have "swollen" since the [[Horus Heresy]]. Both figuratively and literally.
|Allegiance = [[Nurgle]]
|Colours = Formerly unpainted grey with deep crimson right gauntlet, vambrace, and pauldron; now green and brown, inevitably the most disgusting and nasty-looking shades of each.
}}
{{Topquote|Not a bad chap when you get to know him (and sooner or later, everyone gets to know him).|Terry Pratchett on Death (the character within the Discworld Novel Universe)}}
{{Topquote|Sometimes, when I'm alone, I like to cover myself in Vaseline and pretend I'm a slug.|Anonymous}}

The Death Guard are one of the nine [[Space Marine]] Legions who betrayed the [[Emperor]] during the [[Horus Heresy]], and became [[Chaos Space Marines]]. They worship the [[Chaos God]] [[Nurgle]] and in return he infests their armor with pestilence and disease. The Primarch of the Death Guard is [[Mortarion]], who has been elevated to [[Daemon Prince]] status. Their original homeworld of Barbarus was a septic tank disguised as a planet, entirely populated by country bumpkins (and a few Dark Eldar) and stank continuously of horseshit. Barbarus has since been destroyed (probably for the best). The new homeworld of the Death Guard is now the lazily named Plague Planet (<strike> it fucking rhymes too!</strike> Actually it's an alliteration, which is still awful) where all the Galaxy's diseases from meningitis to crotch rot collect.

==History==
Not many neckbeards dare to paint them up. Back during the Unification Wars of Terra, before the coming of Mortarion, they were known as the Dusk Raiders due to their early-evening assaults, using the confusion of the afternoon twilight to catch their enemies off-guard, during dinner. Because Mortarion had been endowed by the Emperor with the aspect of humanity's Teenage Edginess, he renamed his legion the Death Guard instead, and <s>had them repaint their armor to the charming colors of algae-green and mudslick brown white </s> their armor was unpainted, save for a snot green trim and the legions heraldry. They got dirty after they started swimming in the drops.

Due to living in the utter shithole (in their case, quite literally) that was Barbarus, where the local air was equivalent to huffing the engine exhaust from a Chinese cab, the Death Guard soon grew proud of their 'ridiculously tough beyond humanly possible' bodies, which made them resistant to almost all forms of poisons and diseases (didn't stop them from succumbing to Nurgle's Gift, hur hur!). Due to their affinity to biological and chemical elements (likely programed into their Geneseed as well), the Death Guard quickly became the Emperor's personal bio-chem experts. It wouldn't be a surprise if their main source of orbital bombardment was [[Exterminatus|Virus Bombs]]. In fact, they probably bathe in that shit on a daily basis. They also smoked A LOT of weed.

Before the Horus Heresy, the Death Guard differed from the other 17 known Legions in that they had only [[Nurgle|seven]] Great Companies, although these held far more men than those of other Legions such as the [[Ultramarines]] or [[Space Wolves]]. There were three privileged titles held by captains of the Death Guard. The captain of the First Company was known as the First Captain, the captain of the Second Company was known as Commander, and the captain of the Seventh Company was known as Battle-Captain.

The Death Guard tended to be organized into units of foot-slogging infantry, rather than mechanized squads (since the Death Guard themselves were already tough to the point they might as well have Hull Points). Mortarion ensured that his men were [[Ultramarines|well-equipped and highly-trained.]] He also ensured that they could fight in almost any kind of atmosphere, and placed little emphasis on specialized units using jump packs or bikes. The Death Guard did not have dedicated Assault and Tactical Squads. Every Marine was equipped with a bolter, bolt pistol and close combat weapon and told to fight with whatever weapon circumstance dictated. The Legion was also well known for its use of Terminator Armour. Possibly as a result of this, the Death Guard were highly successful at high-risk boarding and close-quarter operations such as [[space hulk]] clearance.

=== Horus Heresy ===

By the time of the Horus Heresy, the Death Guard was known to have had roughly 95,000 Space Marines. One of the most isolated Legions, they tended to take on the most inhospitable warzones of all. They developed a rivalry of sorts with the Iron Hands, priding themselves on their innate resistance whereas the Iron Tenth got theirs from intensive augmentation. Having found their Primarch relatively late, tensions persisted between the Barbaran "true" Death Guard and the old marines who remembered the Dusk Raider days. Barbarus brought other baggage, including a fanatical hatred of psykers which would lead to Mortarion calling for an end to the Space Marine Librarius.

During the [[Horus Heresy|Galaxy's Greatest Hangover since the]] [[Fall of the Eldar|Fall of the Eldar]], the Death Guard and Mortarion were one of the first traitor legions to rebel against [[Emperor|daddy]]. Within the Heresy, Mortarion's smaller fleet led a [[Fail|failed]] attempt on [[Prospero]] to convince [[Jaghatai Khan]] and the [[White Scars]] to join with them, only for <s>Genghis </s> Jaghatai to tell the psychic-hating bigot to fuck off and thus, the White Scars and Death Guard battled to a stalemate. Some fight scenes later, Mortarion meets up with Typhus (then Callas Typhon), who pulled a dick move and killed off the [[navigator]]s, but convinced Mortarion that he could lead them to Terra. As you might expect, entering the [[Warp]] without a Navigator's help is just asking for something bad to happen. [[Rape|Then came the Destroyer Plague, and their fate was sealed.]] Their superhuman constitution and grim determination proved worthless against the Destroyer, and so they embraced Papa Nurgle to be freed from the plague and relieved of their suffering, at the cost of, well.....

Mortarion also had a personal guard, the speechless and silent [[Deathshroud|Death Shroud]], who were known to be within 49 (Get it? Nurgle's holy number is seven and 49 is seven squared?) paces of their Primarch, Morty.
Oh, and they enjoyed drinking a cup of venomous, poison bile to commemorate victory. Mortarion drinks that stuff like water, though his captains have trouble holding their guts inside after drinking.

Once the Heresy was properly underway Mortarion rose quickly in Horus' esteem by not going bugfuck insane and/or turning (his brothers) into a daemon. A few years into the war, Horus charged him to wipe out the White Scars. Mortarion duly pursued them to the Catallus Rift, only to be thwarted by a Webway portal he had no reason to expect and a heroic last stand by the Scars' Sagyar Marzan kill-squads.

All in all, the Death Guard were stoic, poison-drinking, sour-faced martial warriors before [[Horus]] threw his [[Horus Heresy|surprise birthday bash]], and ended up rotting avatars of <s>[[AIDS]]</s>, Syphilis, and decay by the time the party was finished. Just like [[That Guy|that ONE GUY]] who always shows up.

=== Post-Heresy ===
[[File:Death Guard Assraping Tau.jpg|650px|right|thumb|After being repulsed by one kind of [[Ultramarines|Blueberries]], Mortarion and co decided to compensate the loss by [[Anal Circumference|venting]] [[rage|their frustration]] upon another pile of [[Tau|Blueberries.]]]]

So the Death Guard and the rest of the Traitor legions failed (what were they even trying to do again?) and were kicked to the [[Eye of Terror]] to do their daemonic stuff in private. The Death Guard, along with any non-[[Word Bearers]] or [[Black Legion]] factions, soon broke apart into splintering warbands. The split of the Death Guard can be contributed to [[Mortarion]] doing what's trendy when you become a Daemon-Primarch: do whatever the fuck you want and have nothing to do with your Legion FOR 10,000 YEARS. Typhus, who was always a dubious shit-nugget to his Primarch, decided to take as much of the legion into his own hands and go crazy with no intention of obeying Mortarion when he returns. What a douche. Though he did get some shit done.

Another Death Guard warleader by the name of Thagus Daravek got similar ideas, but on a bigger scale. Through sorcery he realized the destiny that Abaddon was on course for, and tried to claim it for himself. Rounding up massive warbands, he became the Lord of Hosts, doing everything he could to wipe out nascent Black Legion. He even went so far as to bind the daemon that had been Iskandar Khayon's tutelary to him, giving him power over Khayon, and used this to follow the Black Legion into realspace. With Abaddon already mired in battle with the Black Templars he would have wiped them out, cleaned up the remaining Templars and sailed off into history. Only Khayon ordered the Black Legion fleet to do a runner, engaged Daravek aboard the '''Vengeful Spirit'', and chopped his head off. Good effort, at least.

In theory the Death Guard, like the Word Bearers, are one of the few Traitor Legions that still have some sort of cohesive centralized command structure. Mortarion commands seven Plague Companies, each consisting of multiple Sepsis Cohorts, which are divided into two Maladictums which in turn consist of seven Colonies. In practice, Mortarion rarely commands his minions (especially Typhus), and the forces of the Death Guard are so scattered that they are mainly divided into informal warbands called Vectoriums, mostly consisting of Colonies or Maladictums from the same Plague Company.

As of the 42nd Millennium, Mortarion decided to stop playing X-Box and puffin' his "Barbaran gas" to make up with his old homie Big Blue. Suffice to say, the Death Guard saw what [[Magnus the Red|Magnus]] [[Thousand Sons|and friends]] did with [[Sortiarius]] and decide to do something similar. They carved out their own mini-empire called the [[Scourge Stars]] right to the north of [[Ultramar]], so they can annoy and pester [[Roboute Guilliman|Big Blue Wonder]] for as much as Morty pleases. This act has cemented the Death Guard as Ultramar's [[That Guy|worst neighbor]] since the first Tyrannic War. Thus Mortarion and the Death Guard launched the '''Plague Wars''' after [[Roboute Guilliman|Grandpa Smurf's]] resurrection and the breakout of the Indomitus Crusade.

During the [[Fate of Konor]], Mortarion and his bros decided to launch an assault on the star system. Whilst he had lost three of the planets (unsurprising since Imperial players outnumbered Chaos players to an obscene level), through sheer grit and resistance, the Death Guard mange to take over the planet of Vanitor. Although even then, it was a pyrrhic victory at best since the Death Guard had to lob a lot of resources to finally turn the tide of the battle. They did manage to also take another planet called Drenthal, but they ultimately they lost the final, decisive battle to the Ultramarines. This was due to Mortarion putting all of their hopes and resources in a former Eldar maiden-world turned into the Death Guard's very own gross-ass Death Star, strapping continent-sized Space Hulks to it and dumping whatever forces he had left in the system onto its surface. Much like the alluded super-space station, it got blown into smithereens during the loyalist assault when strike teams penetrated deep into its engine core and [[Awesome|manually detonated a cyclonic torpedo]]. After a few more battles things finally came to a head on Iax, where Guilliman and Mortarion duked it out amidst the ruins of the planet before Nurgle recalled Morty back to the Scourge Stars. Apparently the other Chaos Gods had gotten jealous and wanted to take the Plague God's recently acquired real estate for themselves. And so, amidst what is assumed to be the expletive-ridden ranting by Mortarion at the gods fucking him over again, the snide commentary of Typhus at yet another failure of his father and the hearty laughter of Ku'gath at the irony of it all, the Death Guard left Ultramar.

After the fiasco of the Plague Wars, the Death Guard was forced to go back to their little turf to fend off Tzeentchian and Khornate shenanigans over the Scourge Stars. At the same time, Mortarion and his Death Guard also manage to meet face to face with the remnants of the Tau's Fourth Sphere forces. [[FATAL|Turned out pretty great.]]

== Disposition ==

The Death Guard codex indicates that of all the Traitor Legions, they are one of the most ordered and coherent. Maintaining a sensible command structure and chain of command all the way from the top to the bottom similar to how it used to be structured all the way back during the Great Crusade:

At the top stands Mortarion himself, attended by the various officers of the legion and his [[Deathshroud]].

Below him there are seven '''Plague Companies''' commanded by a powerful Lord or Daemon Prince. Each company tends to have a preferred combat style as well as carrying a particular disease.
*'''1st Company - Harbingers:''' commanded by [[Typhus]], and includes the [[Plague Fleet]]. They carry hundreds of strains of [[Zombie Plague]].
*'''2nd Company:''' Has a huge number of battle tanks and obviously prefers mechanised assault. They carry the "Ferric Blight" which infects armour and vehicles with crawling rust.
*'''3rd Company - Mortarion's Anvil:''' Defensive siege specialists. Its warriors carry the "Gloaming Bloat" which infects them with sweaty fever that makes them speak in gurgles.
*'''4th Company:''' Commanded by a sentient plague made up of a gestalt daemonic consciousness called the "Eater of Lives." The 4th insists on having Sorcerers in command roles and incorporates daemonic summoning into its tactics. Its warriors carry the "Eater Plague".
*'''5th Company - Poxmongers:''' Use a lot of daemon engines. They carry the "Sangous Flux" which makes them leave blood clots and red trails wherever they go.
*'''6th Company - Ferrymen / Brethren of the Fly:''' command the Plague Fleets and acquire new ships for the Legion. They also have a large number of [[Blightlord Terminator]]s who carry a parasite called "the Droning".
*'''7th Company - Mortarion's Chosen Sons:''' They are the legion's alchemists and are blessed with "Crawling Pustulance".

The Plague Companies are made up of an unnumbered amount of '''Sepsis Cohorts''' which contain about 700 Plague Marines each. They probably function similar to loyalist [[Space Marine Chapter|Chapters]] in that they are a fully self contained fighting force, equipped with its own attendant officers, auxiliaries, vehicles and daemon engines. Each sepsis cohort also has command of its own fleet assets so it can move from place to place.

Each Sepsis Cohort is split into two '''Maladictums''' probably of around 350 warriors each, plus any assets that get assigned to it.

The Maladictums are sub-divided into seven '''Colonies''' which is similar in function to a loyalist Company. Each colony containing seven squads of variable strength, ''(350 into seven colonies leaves 50 men divided into seven squads of around seven men each)'' and can be equipped in whatever manner their commander deems appropriate. Although typically the 1st Colony of each maladictum will be exclusively made up of [[Blightlord Terminator]]s.

Though what this means in practice is debatable however, the Legion is broken up across the whole galaxy with maladictums and colonies from various plague companies fighting together in forces called '''Vectoriums''' whose uniform often manifests itself to a single identifiable scheme and take on a new name for themselves chosen by their leader, so identifying which Plague Company that an individual warrior or squad has come from based solely on his colour scheme would be a nightmare, it would be simpler to just identify him by what diseases he carries.

The organisation of the Legion probably gets further complicated by the fact that some vectoriums, such as the Favoured Sons and the Rotworm Brotherhood have gone double-renegade and actively rebelled against their Primarch, forming independent warbands of their own.

The Death Guard are said to be one of the few Traitor Legions to have actually grown since the Horus Heresy; and have fought entire wars over new Gene-Seed stocks or for control over recruits. Coupled with the sheer resilience of Plague Marines in general means that in comparison to before their corruption to Chaos their numbers have only increased more quickly since their damnation. In terms of actual numbers though, it can only be a matter of speculation. It is known that at the start of the Horus Heresy they had 95,000 warriors. Even though is reasonable to assume that number would have been heavily diminished by the conclusion of the Siege of Terra and the Scourging that followed; the implication is that the Death Guard are stronger than they have ever been, thus it can be comfortably guessed that the number has grown to equal or even exceed their former strength, which probably means that each Plague Company has ''more'' than nineteen Sepsis Cohorts of 700 warriors each.

==Daily Rituals of the Death Guard==
06:00 - The Death Guard awake in the hand-dug graves. Massive, 10,000 year hangovers and rotting ligaments make getting out of bed difficult, some are unable to be roused from their graves for hours and have to be dug/scraped out to perform their daily rituals.

08:00 - Morning Meal. A zombified serf prepares the meat of another rotting serf, alongside a bit of fungus. Marines who are unable to rise from their graves make due by eating the fungi that grow on their bodies, or sometimes their own limbs by mistake.

08:30 - Morning Prayers. A prayer is dedicated to Papa Nurgle. Each Death Guard secretly wishes a Nurgmas present from Nurgle himself. They all get presents, as every day is Nurgmas as long as you asked for more mutations or nurglings.

09:30 - Morning Firing Rites. The Death Guard proceed to have target practice upon captured Imperial citizens. Its a win-win situation as the citizens are revived as zombies and the Death Guard gets experience. Nobody loses, everyone wins. Such is life. Well that is unless said Death Guard is a horrible shot (and when your joints and eyes are rotting, steady aim isn't an easy proposition), in which case the citizen's terror and pain is prolonged.

11:00 - Battle Practice. The Death Guard engage in battle practice within the mud swamps of the Plague Planet. Unfortunately, the [[Slaanesh|Pleasure Pits of Pussy Planet]] were booked for the day. The stuck Death Guard are now able to climb out.

12:00 - Tactical Indoctrination. The Death Guard plan out their latest campaign to spread Papa Nurgle's Gifts. Unlike traditional legions; the planning phase looks and sounds more like preparations for a party, rather than a tactical debriefing.

13:00 - Evening Meal. A medium meal of Maggots, Dying flesh, and diseased organs is prepared by the zombified serfs. Most Death Guard prefer to order from [[Emprah Burgers|Chaos Burgers and McNurgle's]] as the food delivery is faster, and the quality is pretty much the same.

14:00 - Plague Checks. The Plague Surgeons now examine the Death Guard legion to see if any new diseases develop within their bodies. Typically nothing new happens, but they're always optimistic.

15:00 - Pet Training. The Death Guard now begin combat training with their daemonic beasts. Its mostly harmless (atleast for the marines), but will occasionally end up with a friendly "fatality" when said beast gets too enthusiastic.

16:00 - Evening Prayers. <s> This time Papa Nurgle has heeded the wishes of the Death Guard and has given them Nurgmas presents </s> NO PRESENTS! THEY GOT THEIR PRESENTS ONCE, NOW IT'S SOMEONE ELSE'S TURN!

17:00 - Pet a Nurgling Period. The Death Guard are allowed to pet some of Papa Nurgle's blobs of rotting cutsies. If they were gifted a nurgling then they can pet their own nurgling, who will then follow the marine around until they inevitably get stepped on.

18:00 - Daily Nurgle Wedding. A local wedding is held by two love birds in the Plague Planet. Celebrations are held as the Death Guard congratulate the groom and bride. Much confusion is had as to which is the groom and which is the bride. The Death Guard attempt to coax Mortarion into leading the procession, but typically gets silence in response. The Deathshroud are also visibly tense by this hour.

19:00 - Wedding Meal. A feast is held to congratulate the newly wed couple. Everyone is happy and the imperial citizens who were shot for target practice are now revived as zombies and are invited to see that not all things in Chaos are bad.

22:00 - Time with Daddy. Mortarion gathers whatever faithful Death Guardians he's commanding at the time and tells tales of the Heresy and how to serve Nurgle best. All the marines sit cross legged in a circle listening while petting any surviving nurglings.

23:00 - Free Time. The Death Guard have their free time where they pray to Nurgle, get as much disease as possible, help the locals, and be overall model citizens to those who inhabit the Plague Planet. Sometimes, the Death Guard congregate, and an ancient Terran plant species known as "The Weed" is ritually inhaled through an equally ancient tool known as "the Bong" in faint imitation of their Primarch's need for Barbaran gas. It has strange, pleasant effects, and Sometimes, Mortarion may share his "Barbaran gas" with his sons.
It's good stuff.

24:00 - Rest Time. The Death Guard go back to their graves and rest for a bit. Mortarion ponders where to spread Nurgle's gifts next. On rare occasions; Mortarion may leave his quarters during rest period. Reports of him playing with his own menagerie of pet daemonic beasts in the middle of the night are unsubstantiated and will result in horrible dismemberment if he ever hears you mention it.

== New models and Codex inbound ==
That's right heretics, new models coming out, including the Daemon [[Primarch]] [[Mortarion]] himself! You can see it [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BceinBiT9jQhere in this video by Warhammer TV]. A Death Guard codex is also coming. [[Warhammer 40,000/Tactics/Death Guard(8E)|They're here!]]

==Gallery==
<gallery>
Image:Plague-marines.jpg|Death Guard Plague Marines, [[Cegorach|moar like AIDStartes, amirite? (Ha-Ha!)]]
Image:PhDG.jpg‎|Not much difference...
Image:Plague Marine Face.jpg‎|This is the face of someone happy with their decisions. He has never felt more alive.
</gallery>

{{Death Guard}}
{{Chaos-Official}}