<div class="floatleft">(http://i163.photobucket.com/albums/t295/JoanieSappho/Sekrit/1f09959c-c61d-4462-9bdb-093953819c5a_zps4jtiyigm.png)</div><strong>Real Name:</strong>Long forgotten<br/><strong>Aliases:</strong>Plaguemother<br/><strong>Age:</strong>Around 340 years. Ish.<br/><strong>Sex:</strong>Hermaphrodite, originally female.<br/><strong>Race:</strong>Human. Heavily infected with numerous diseases, including a Slaaneshi-tainted variant of the Zombie Plague.<br/><strong>Planet of Origin:</strong>Unknown<br/><strong>Appearance: </strong>A large-breasted, noticeably pregnant figure, typically covered in heavily, poorly made and dirty robes and cloaks that conceal most details past her general body shape. When she has no need for concealment, she tends to forgo these - or any other - clothes. Her face is beautiful, if pale and faintly green-tinged, especially around her full and sensual lips, and her eyes are a solid milky (well, the faintly yellow colour of spoiled milk) white. Her body is likewise unnaturally pale and cool to the touch, her arms, legs and stomach marked with small boils, grossly expanded pores and little areas where the flesh has rotted away to show the organs and muscles beneath. Her sex has been heavily warped, her clitoris swollen into a misshapen organ that would look more at home between the hind legs of a male horse. A very ill one, at least, as numerous small bumps and nodules are visible under the flesh, seeming to move slowly beneath the skin. As with her perpetually swollen nipples, a thick, pale, sickly yellow-white fluid constantly and slowly oozes from both of her misshapen sexes.<br/><br/><strong>Background:</strong><br/><br/>Former a Novice Sister of the Hospitallers of the Adeptus Soroitas, the woman who would become the Plaguemother was, at first, just as earnest and fiery as her sisters, if somewhat weak-willed when it came to resisting her desires.<br/>Still, she was a girl with needs and, during a lull in the fighting between the Imperial Guard regiment that she and her sisters were tending to and a Chaotic uprising on some agriworld, she found herself in the arms of a Guardsman admit the stench of death and the built-up filth that accumulates after years fighting in the same little trenches. And she<em>loved</em>it.<br/>She loved it all, from the Guardsman and the joy and passion and love of their coupling to the scents and the softly yielding sensation of the muck that enveloped her as they rutted into it.<br/><br/>She had always had a strong tolerance for the most unclean of environments that she and her sisters worked in, but never had she realized just how<em>beautiful</em>it all was, from the feeling of another filling her womb, to the cute little wriggling of the maggots in the muck around them to the smell of the feces and rotting flesh. It was death but it was also life, the two not separate but the same wonderful thing.<br/>And then the cultists attacked, an unlikely and tenuous alliance of Slaaneshi and Nurglite followers who had managed to summon the daemons of their respective gods.<br/>Caught in a tide of plaguebearers and deamonettes the slaughter was total, all those who resisted were defiled and killed, not always in that order.<br/><br/>She didn't resist. The sight of the guardsmen around her being violated by the deamonettes and covered in the filth of the nurglings ... with her recent realization she found that she didn't<em>want</em>to resist when she was cornered by a deamonette and plaguebearer.<br/>When the deamonette took her, she opened her legs willingly for it and when the plaguebearer climbed over her and squatted above her face, she opened her mouth eagerly for it.<br/>She was caught up in the rebellion, now knowing and accepting how ... silly the Imperials were being. She didn't hate them, but the poor, misguided children still struggled against what was best for them, even as she rose to prominence amongst the various warbands, her body touched and warped by both Slaanesh and Nurgle until, finally, she pledged herself fully to Nurgle. Perhaps as a last gesture of spite, her most prolific infection, the zombie plague, was warped and twisted by the Prince of Excess. No longer did it turn those infected with it into mindless corpses seeking only to spread the disease through proximity and force, but those she infected mutated into forms similar to her own, beautiful and between male and female, the infection now spread only through the milk and semen of the zombies.<br/>The Plaguemother soon found that one of her two patrons had also added another little mutation ot the disease. Normally, those infected by it died and shuffled around mindlessly. While that was still true for all those taken by her 'children' and those that resisted her efforts to bring them into the warm embrace of Papa Nurgle, those that willingly submitted to her, that knelt and drank happily from her breast or sex maintained their intelligence who she loved and was loved by, treating them as beloved children while they see her somewhere between mother, lover and semi-divine. Perhaps intentionally, the majority of her sons and daughters are drawn towards the worship of Slaanesh rather than Nurgle but as none will even consider defying their beloved mother, the two groups rarely come into open disagreement and neither group dares to disobey their mother.<br/><br/>The rebellion was eventually crushed but the Plaguemother and the first of her beloved children had left the planet before that point, having realized that they would not survive much longer there. And while oblivion was just the warm, welcome embrace of Nurgle, if she did she wouldn't be able to show any more of the silly little Imperials the joy of Nurgle's love.<br/><br/>Ever since she embraced Chaos, the child (or children) of that guardsman has been growing within the Plaguemother's body, the pregnancy far, far extended from what it should be. Whatever is growing inside of her is unlikely to be more than barely human, and even the Plaguemother isn't sure what sort of life is slowly growing inside of her, but she knows that she loves the child or children that will be both her first and last.<br/>Whatever it -or they -are, they have survived apparently unharmed from even the worst of injuries inflicted upon their mother.<br/>But then, Nurgle's children were always resilient.