[Inquisitor Rosenadel]

Part I: A Plague of Unbelief

It started like any other illness. It first appeared in the ghettoes, where the mutants and the convicted who kept the city lit and functioning lived. But no one cared for this rabble, and their contamination went unnoticed.

But it spread. The overseers who kept the labourers in line went back to their homes and brought their sickness with them. They spread the contagion to their families. Their families spread it to other families, and all those they interacted with. People did not know to avoid them because the infected did not show any outward signed of their illness. And so the disease spread.

When it eventually came to the highest levels of the Imperial authority, to the nobles, and the governor, it was more difficult to take hold. The elite could always afford better protection than those unfortunates in the ghettoes, and so the malady did not immediately take root. But as they came into contact with it day after day, it began to wear on them, and eventually, for all their preventive measures, they, too fell victim to the plague that had infected the entire city.

But where did it all start? Surely this terrible illness did not manifest on its own. No, it did not. As with all such illnesses, it took but one to bring this disease to the city and from him did it spread. He came inconspicuously, a traveller from afar. He wore the wear of a simple man, a ragged brown sackcloth robe that covered his features from the bright sun of Bubonis. Gloves covered his hands, and a dirty white cloth covered his face. He seldom shuffled about outside his dwelling, his distended stomach making it difficult for him to walk. He was not noticed when he did, and moved about without attracting attention.

He spread his plague just as insidiously. He found those who did not cover up their wounds, who left them open for the man to infect with his disease. They, in turn, became carriers of the contagion, and spread it to those who were not vigilant enough to cover their orifices when the carriers tried spreading the malady. Even the nobles and the governor left tiny *****s in their armour, and through these *****s the virus infected them.

This illness was not a physical one. The plague was one of words and thoughts, expressions and ideas. It was a plague of unbelief. The labourers had longed to rise against their masters. The traveller stoked their hatred to new levels, and soon they forsook the Emperor and His empty promises. They learned of a new patron where everyone was treated equally, as children to a loving father. Their overseers also resented their place in society, and worship of the new patron took hold. Other families revelled in the idea of stability, lasting power, and protection. The nobles and governor let their hubris get the best of them, believing the Emperor and the rest of the Imperium had abandoned them to their world, and that they deserved more respect. They felt that this new patron the people spoke of would be fair with them, and give them power deserving of their intellect and capabilities.

The traveller was called upon by the governor and nobles to instruct them on how they should call upon this patron, this loving grandfather who would gift them with so much. He instructed them, and they began to worship the grandfather, and this worship spread quickly throughout the city until they all praised Grandfather Nurgle. They asked for his gifts, his promises of security, stability, and power.

They received what they asked for when the former Imperial cruiser “Cultor Pestilus” arrived in orbit, and the Space Marines formerly of the Emperor’s fifteenth legion, the Death Guard, arrived in the Bubonis capital city of Pandema.