The plague monks of Clan Pestilens are that rarest of skaven phenomena: true believers. Riddled with contagions they regard as marks of divine favor, whipped into ecstatic frenzy by droning plague-prayers, they fling themselves at the foe in foam-flecked waves, swinging rusted blades whose filth kills more surely than their edges.
Where other skaven flee pain, the plague monks embrace it — every sore is a benediction, every fever a whisper from the Great Corruptor. They march to seed the Great Plagues that will one day smother all the realms, and they hold that to die mid-slaughter, disease-wracked and surrounded by the freshly infected, is the finest end a devoted rat can earn.
Order of battle
