Papa Nurgle will be pleased.

Well, I can't say that my band of festering Space Pirates got off to a particularly good start in life. After repeatedly getting their bottoms handed back to them by Cowboy and both his Ork war band AND his vanilla marines, my enthusiasm for spreading pestilence was beginning to fade.

However, recent battles have begun to go my way. Not too long ago I joined forces with some Khorne worshipers to take on a rather unusual army of Orks with marine allies. Together we rounded up those pesky Greenskins, and the Khorne Bezerkers had a fantastic round where they mulched an entire squad of Terminators in one clean sweep.

This seems to have inspired my Grubby legion to make a bit more of an effort, as just this afternoon I used a tidy little army of 500 points to squash a Blood Angels army and deffocated on their smouldering corpses.

I ran the following:
Chaos Lord: The Black Mace; Mark of Nurgle; Veterans of the Long War.

10 Chaos Cultists
7 Plague Marines: 2× plasma gun; Veterans of the Long War.

5 Havocs: heavy bolter; 3× missile launcher.

My strategy was very basic; firstly, keep my Havocs right at the back to rain explosive death on the Blood Angel sniper-scouts. Then stick my Chaos Lord behind a meat shield of cultists to soak up the bullets and stroll right down the middle of the field like a sweaty moving target. My Plague Marines hid behind cover until all the Angels were completely preoccupied trying to kill the cultists to get to my Lord. As soon as he was looking the other direction, they stomped out of cover and clobbered two Tac squads thanks to their beefy toughness and feel no pain roll. Meanwhile, after all the sniper-scouts had been blown to chunks of Nurgleing chow, the Marine HQ (a haughty looking librarian) took an unfortunate Krack rocket to the face, securing my victory and leaving the planet free to be raped, pillaged and otherwise disheveled.

So that's where I am at the moment, a struggling Space Pirate enjoying a hard earned victory.
Good night lonely reader, may the Chaos gods refrain from turning you into a gurgling gloopy mess.