The Poxbringer is a Herald of Nurgle grown swollen with the Garden's authority, a lesser lord of the tallybands who stands a head above the plaguebearers it commands. Where an ordinary Herald tends to a single duty, the Poxbringer is a battlefield captain, its very presence knitting the daemon ranks into disciplined, droning order and quickening the rot in every plaguesword around it.
It is also a wielder of the Grandfather's power. A Poxbringer draws sickness up out of the air itself, hurling clouds of eye-stinging spores and gouts of magical pestilence that liquefy flesh and corrode iron in moments. In one hand it bears a bileblade slick with seven kinds of fever; in the other, the raw stuff of contagion. Steadfast and unhurried, the Poxbringer embodies the patience of its god: it does not seek to win a battle swiftly, only to ensure that, however the day ends, the rot it has sown remains behind to bloom.