Boils!

After the wily Tzeentch reversed the fortunes of Saer Lanth through a light twist in the strands of time, A'laeera, the Keeper of Secrets, was left on a wild goose chase. With the Dark Prince's plans frustrated, Father Nurgle sensed a change in the winds of Chaos. As he looked into his pot of virulence, he felt his power wax with the currents of fate. Grinning, he poured a spoonful of his latest brew into the mouth of Poxfulcrum and watched with delight as she blistered and choked. Satisfied he poured a measure from the immense cauldron into a small pot and handed it to a Great Unclean One beside him, scratching him affectionately under his chin. Boils burst and pus flowed down his chest, yet Festermould merely purred with pleasure.

As his minion turned and waddled away, Nurgle stared into the grate through which he poured poxes into the world and fixed his eye on Ulthuan, the land of the elves. What Slannesh sought and lost was now his to acquire...