The Imperium of Matt: Lord Eiterfex

In a time so distant that it seems like a dream of a dream, there was a battle brother of the Adeptus Astartes. He was born on the world of Barbarus, and was one of the first of his kind to be inducted into the ranks of the Death Guard. He was a good soldier - solid, reliable, dependable. He served with honour and earned commendations. Yet the concept of advancement never even seemed to be a question for him. None considered him for promotion, least of all the man himself. He was content to serve as a line Space Marine for all his days. Even when the Death Guard rebelled against the Imperium and dark opportunities abounded, he was happy with his lot. It was only when the Death Guard's fleet was becalmed in the warp that things changed. Whilst most of the legion writhed in agony, their own Astartes physiology turning into a curse, this man found glory. He lurched to his feet, laughing uncontrollably, and stumbled the hallways of his troop ship, inflicting horrors upon any that crossed his path. By the time that the benighted fleet tumbled from the warp, the once unremarkable battle brother was gone. Eiterfex had been born.

Eiterfex was everything his former incarnation had not been: ruthless, twisted and ambitious. He had come to believe that pain and suffering were the defining experiences of the mortal condition, and that the paltry lives of men were enhanced only by the most excruciating maladies of Grandfather Nurgle. Such was his fervour that he won over the Captain of his Plague Company, the mighty Hytothrax the Elder. Like an infection, the madness of Eiterfex gnawed through the entire company until they became the Synod of Suffering. Soon Eitherfex stood at Hytothrax's right hand. And eventually, when Hytothrax ascended to daemonhood, Eiterfex became the unchallenged master of the Synod of Suffering.

The nameless fortress of Eiterfex is like a vision of hell. Located within a vomitorious swamp on the Plague Planet, where still-moving apparitions slosh and howl in agony, the edifice looks as much like an ancient hospital long past decrepitude as a fortress. Within its walls, worse awaits. Appallingly incomplete an rearranged objects crawl and shuffle in hallways of putrid, rusting metal. Living gargoyles shriek their espair from their tethers of gristle, with very little to give away their human origins. In corpse-lit laboratories where the endless buzz of flies competes with the pitiful pleading of moving things, demented surgeons work patiently on cell cultures to heighten the suffering of the subject whilst extending its capacity to continue living, conscious and suffering. In other places, degenerate scholars observe the effects of contagions on subjects of different ages, genders and species. At the heart of this vile domain, in a throne room wrought of diseased, living flesh, Lor Eiterfex broods on a dread purpose that the galaxy is yet mercifully ignorant of...

Building Lord Eiterfex

Full disclosure: I tinkered and pinned and rearranged and improvised so much with this model that I can't accurately tell you exactly how I did it. All I can do is offer some general notes.

The palanquin is an Ork Trukk component, hacked into a roughly oval shape. The chimneys at the back are from a Forgefiend.
The big throne arrangement thing is from a Mortis Engine. It is completely bent an hacked out of its original shape an ultimately I had to pin it in place.
The corpse entangled in the throne is from the Pusgoyle kit.
The sitting part of the throne is made of various skulls, skeletons an assorted bits.
Eiterfex himself is a mixture of Easy to Build Blightlord bits, Dark Imperium Lord of Contagion, Easy to Build Lord of Contagion and Blightking. I had to saw off and reposition his legs extensively.
The Plague Marines have all been repositioned, obviously.
The horrid flesh strands you can see are Woodland Scenics foliage.
The base is deliberately empty - I didn't want to distract attention from him.