Rotigus, also called "Rotigus Rainmaker", "Rainfather" and "the Generous One," is a powerful Great Unclean One, a Greater Daemon of Nurgle. Rotigus is the epitome of Nurgle's generosity and fecundity. None, save for the Lord of Decay himself, is more attuned to the woes of the world.
In their despair, the most defiant of mortals vow to endeavour onwards, despite the utter hopelessness of their situation. Thus do the barren pray for fertility, the growers of crops plead for rain, the starving beg for sustenance. Rotigus listens to each supplication, and to those desperate enough to pledge anything in exchange for life, he promises salvation. And the Rainfather always delivers.
Humming merrily -- for he enjoys his work -- Rotigus lavishes his attentions upon those that beseech him. With their beasts gone sterile, the Agri-world of Ullden stood upon the brink of ruin. When the animals began to breed once more, the citizens believed their prayers to an ancient fertility god had been answered. Only when the wretched beasts kept giving birth, covering the ground in mewling, mutated newborns that shrieked to the skies did they realise their doom.
When their hydro-tech broke, the T'au Earth Caste farmers of Dh'artan were so desperate for rain that they ignored protocol and gave in to the superstitions of the primitive tribes from whom they had usurped the planet. When the downpour first came it was welcome, but soon enough the entire planet became a foetid swamp rife with plague.
Since his participation in the Skull Lands War when Rotigus' quick thinking and ability to unleash the greatest deluge he had ever manifested prevented a massive blaze accidentally started around Khorne's Brass Citadel from reaching back into the heart of Nurgle's Garden, Rotigus has been in ascension in his master's eyes. He has claimed thousands of new worlds for the Fly Lord since the birth of the Great Rift. The other Great Unclean Ones look upon the Rainfather's works with a sibling jealousy, knowing it will not be long before he achieves Exalted status.
As the Death Guard's siege of the Imperial Hive World of Nebbus reached its seventh Terran year in the time after the opening of the Great Rift, the Primarch Mortarion's Sorcerers summoned the Rainfather to aid them. Rotigus joined the fight, bringing with him his appalling aura of infernal fecundity.
Protein vats in the hive cities overflowed as the flesh-broth within them grew at an unstoppable pace, burying entire levels under flabby drifts of bloated meat. Vermin of every sort entered frenzied cycles of birth and death, the Imperial defenders finding themselves overwhelmed by tides of sump-rats, infestations of grizzleworms and million-strong swarms of ravenous ripper jacks.
Worst of all was Nurgle's Deluge, an endless storm of putrid filth-water that seethed with infectious, bacterial life. Soon enough, Nebbus' arid plains became quagmires, then stinking oceans that rose higher and higher. The corpse-choked hive cities flooded from the roots upward, their last garrisons fleeing ever higher in search of a salvation that does not exist.
Blessed beyond endurance by the plentiful generosity of Rotigus and his daemons, methodically cut to pieces by the thundering guns of the Death Guard, it was almost a mercy when the last of Nebbus' defenders met their grisly deaths and the world was claimed for the Plague God.
Rotigus manifests Nurgle's Deluge -- a diseased storm that eternally hovers over him, drenching the Great Unclean One to his innermost folds as they wobble with thunderous laughter. Those foes that do not drown in the presence of Rotigus' generosity find themselves crushed by his massive bulk. As befits his giving personality, Rotigus has also been blessed with a fountain of plenty -- the ability to vomit an endless stream of filth.
A foul soup of brackish plague water, half-digested rotten flesh and the most acidic biles of the galaxy, this liquid can melt ceramite armour and cause ferrocrete to rot and crumble. Alarmingly, the projectile vomit issues not only from his gaping mouth, but also from his belly maw. Random toothed orifices open up all over Rotigus' voluminous body, snapping and retching septic fluids that seethe with contagion.
With such defences, Rotigus feels no need to carry weapons. Instead he bears a Gnarlrod, a branch from the hornbeam tree. Of all the strange and unusual plants within his master's garden, the hornbeam is Nurgle's favourite. In a constant cycle, the tree begins as a seed, sprouts, grows to maturity, sickens with disease, declines and dies in rapid fashion. Every time, its withered corpse sloughs away to reveal a seed from which the cycle begins again. With every rebirth comes a different disease that causes the hornbeam to die in some new and horrific way. The curled branch of Nurgle's beloved tree is a powerful symbol of favour, and the ensorcelled wood is rich in regenerative magic.
- Streams of brackish filth
- Fanged Maw
- Codex: Daemons (8th Edition), pp. 53, 95
- Codex Heretic Astartes - Death Guard (8th Edition), pp. 22-23, "Deluge on Nebbus"
- Warhammer Community (Picture)