Lord Skrolk is the foremost Plaguelord of Clan Pestilens, a walking reliquary of disease so riddled with contagion that his very presence sickens the air. Where a mortal would have died of any one of the plagues that ravage him, Skrolk endures and even thrives, sustained by the favour of the Horned Rat and by a faith so absolute that his rotting body has become a temple to decay. He bears the Liber Bubonicus, the holiest and most virulent text of his clan, and from its pages he calls down pestilence upon the enemies of the ratkin.
Skrolk rose through Pestilens the way all its priests do — by outliving, out-suffering, and out-preaching his rivals — and he wields his diseases as both weapon and sacrament, seeding new plagues wherever he treads. In battle he leads the Plague Monks in shrieking, ecstatic charges, his Rod of Corruption withering all it touches, his ruined frame indifferent to wounds that would drop a war-troll. To his followers he is a living saint; to everyone else he is a plague made flesh and given purpose, shuffling south with a smile on his rotted muzzle and the end of the world in his heart.
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