Hell brute

When a Chaos Space Marine is too broken to keep fighting but too valuable to let die, he is interred in a walker and left to stew in it for centuries. That is the horror behind this pattern of war machine: a maddened pilot fused to the sarcophagus at the heart of a hulking bipedal chassis, roaring inside a body he did not choose. This one is given over to Nurgle. Where a loyalist dreadnought is sealed and severe, the plague god's version is bloated and split open, armour plates bowed outward by the swollen thing behind them, ironwork gone soft with rot and corruption weeping from every seam. It is a walker that looks diseased before it has done anything at all. On the table it anchors a Death Guard or renegade force as a heavy close-quarters threat. It arrives as a substantial multi-part kit rather than a single figure.