Ocander Wolgus

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Ocander Wolgus was a Blightmaster of the Order of the Fly, Hero of the Bridge of Scabs and Master of Festerfane [1e]

Appearance

Bulky even for a chosen of Nurgle, his battle-scarred armour is rightly more ornate than the others of his order. The breastplate was engraved with a leering face with pauldrons moulded in the shape of stylised flies. Although his face was a mass of scar tissue and weeping sores, but his eyes blazed with malign intelligence Meanwhile Real flies circled his wide head in a humming halo. [1e]

At his belt he had a sacred chalice, its metal tarnished and blackened, the once bright gemstones replaced by pulsing insect pupae and throbbing buboes. On its surface are the seventy-seven verses of the Feverish Oath, inscribed by the Lady of Cankerwall herself. Every blightmaster of the Order is given such a cup upon his ascension, a sign of favour from the King of All Flies. [1d]

History

He was one of the orignal sword-brothers who swore alligience to the Lady of Cankerwall and Nurgle to save their duchies from Tzeentch. [2]

Renowned as the youngest and the most energetic of the seven blightmasters of the Order, each ordained by the Lady of Cankerwall herself. In the wilds of Ghyran and Chamon, he had carved out new territories for the Order and Nurgle. He slew the Champion of Tzeentch Gog of the Twelve Tongues, and it was Wolgus who had broken the enemy’s lines at the Black Cistern.[1a]

He was slain in combat at the Mandible by Neferata, Mortarch of Blood. [1e]

He wrote the Codex Maggotirim.[2]

Powers

He went into battle armed with mace and sword, by the time of the crusade into the Realm of Shyish, he had commissioned a sword from the Festering Seers of Plax whose contagions woven into its steel could affect even the dead. [1c]

Quotes

Fear not, my friend. The Order of the Fly has never met a foe we could not best in battle, or outlast in the field. Not the root-kings, in their halls of wood and stone, and certainly not the unquiet dead of these gloomy lands. We will free them from the tyranny of death, and teach their peoples the true glory of sweet despair

~Wolgus to Festerbite .[1b]

Sources