Chalid the Cat Crown

Truth about Chalid the Cat Crown's origin is lost, even to himself. So many years have passed since this daemon-infested traitor walked as a hero amongst those who revere the False Emperor as their God and King. So much time has bygone since the body and mind were wholly his own, and not a mere extension of the will of Chaos.

Chalid the Cat Crown is a champion of Chaos in its purest form. He is a Mutilator, the symbol of weapon, Chaos Incarnate and most importantly, a loyal servant of the Chaos Lord Xaphuris.

History
Chalid the Cat Crown's memories serve him only to the point. He remembers floating in the formless wastelands of the Immaterium long ago, drifting aimlessly and carried by the fluctuating currents of the Warp. Who he was before that time, and what were his purpose or origins are lost to him, and most likely to any other still living being in the vast galaxy.

Chalid's Words
 Note: Note, that these are written from the perspective of Chalid himself, and may at points be somewhat confusing.

Many days I remember, every one of them long as a lifetime in real-space and yet none of them lasted more than a single beat of a human heart.

Flocks... flocks around me.

I heard them speak to me. I heard their whispers. I tried to ignore them, and ignore them I did. None speaking such foul language would have any power over me. Their splitted tongues... tongues...

Flapping wings, vultures gathered... gathered around.

Flapping sails. I was bound by some organic thing to a... tree? Is there still trees back home, I wondered? Who was I, and who were those men who manned that strange vessel. This must be the Immaterium, I thought, but it was so beautiful! Such sun above I have yet to see similar. Rays of golden light fell upon me and my sweaty crew of that vessel and the Warp... cursed Warp, flowed like a sheet of blue velvet against the prow of that noble vessel. Such noble vessel it was...

Screams.

What did they scream about? I didn't know, didn't care. I only heard music, such music to my ears. "Hey my ladies!" I shouted to them, as the winged saints came to me, singing their songs with their so... beautiful... so beautiful voices. Such voices... they spoke to me, but my crew... I... can't recall their names... my crew didn't like them. They took their brown staffs of office... and smacked the saints! Who did they think they were? The screams... they ached my heart, the love I felt to those beautiful saints... I wanted them. The robe bound around me couldn't hold me. Couldn't hold the fury of the Emperor's... chosen?

Yes, that was it...

The robe bursted into pieces... like shackles. The wood... the wood splintered like volcanic rock, with fire and embers. And I took the crew's staffs of office, or whatever they were, and told them to stop. There was no need to anger the saints of Emperor... yes... Emperor's Chosen they were, like me.

So holy and pure.

But the sweat covered men didn't care. They said I was a prisoner of... war. Like a joke that was! You hear me? Joke! A prisoner? The saints... the saints whispered in my ears. Their wings flapped, their tongues licked my... me. I felt so relieved. For they believed in me. And I was just a mouse, just a mouse compared to them. And the pale rays of that dying sun coloured my clenched fists into death...

Pale... Death...

And so I raised my fist! So great! So... powerful! And I took the crew and I... took them? Took their purity, took their skins and took their souls and I turned to the saints and offered those as gifts... gifts to my brethren in pure naked forms of... nakedness. So they took me... took me and my gifts and we feasted. Yes! Yes! Oh, how we feasted so! In the ruins of a burning city, in the golden halls of old, on the deck of my vessel, so we feasted! My silver skin pressed to them, and I feasted upon them, so... delightful. So... pleasing, as I pressed my shaking hands against their godly... yes, godly... bodies and took them to me and... and...

Ripped them apart!

I fell through the floors of a burning citadel. Citadel... of citadel of chaos... Chaos. The sky was blood red, men bled on the streets, their skin bubbled and turned into black as the magnificent phenomena blinded us all. So bright... so divine... the divine form of light. So... magnificent. And I feasted again. I took their burning bodies and I broke them with my member... My arms of... of... blood, bloody, bloodied, so much blood for my lust to be a man. A man? No... The Man!

On the ground of that fell world I saw them, countless of them... cats... so many cats. Their sharp claws came to me and I fought against them... with my mouth... I ate them and with my arms of blood I smashed them. And the Eternal War was upon me.

So I fought. Fought as I could.

I ran through the masses of saints, pleasing to look upon, I reached towards them but they turned me away...

So I ate them.

My jaws... my teeth... I took them, I sucked them empty. Oh, how I blew them! Aparts! And I felt as my arm grew stronger and my feet strurdier and I blew them all, took like a bunch of soldiers... like real man takes upon another. Then he does and oh how it feels good.

And there were many others. On different soils, on different streams. There were the Warriors of Great Renown... glad in their so revered plates, I took the plates, and ate their insides. Sucked like a child suck a straw... so he could get the bubbling drink from the glass. Let the magots eat them! I am Chalid! Crowned King! I am the Catborn son of our Father below and Chaos above!

I am Chalid the Cat Crown and in the end, I will feast upon you!

What really happened
Chalid the Cat Crown was, most likely, a powerful Space Marine before his fall into Chaos. Most likely, considering his rather new suit of Tactical Dreadnought Armour, he was a great and renowned veteran of one of the later founding chapters. His plain shoulderpads and unadorned armour suggest that he was, when serving the False Emperor, rather modest person and considering his weapons of choice and combat tactics, one could think he was from assault orientated chapter, specialised to fight against hordes.

Chalid found himself drifting aimlessly in the Warp, all his memories lost, and so the pure Chaos took over him. Parasitic creatures laid eggs beneath his skin and caused severe hallucinations. He was finally caught by the elements of the Abaddon the Despoiler's 5th Black Crusade. From the joints of his armour many crawling creatures spawned from within him, taking with them memories and sanity. So it was no wonder that the elements of 5th Black Crusade caught him and tried to snuff him out to get his so clean and so new armour and gene-seed too and to throw his maimed body into the Immaterium. Chalid was not, in his delusions and mighty armour, as easy prey as the lesser warband's members thought and so Chalid rose up against his captors. Power armours splintered as his right arm heaved the heavy power fist against his traitorous brethren, for he was way beyond the edge of sanity and purity at that moment, and his left arm cleaved the Traitor Astartes' limbs off one by one. His eyes burned with madness and burning agony and jaws of dagger-like fangs crushed the bones of his fallen foes as he feasted upon the degenarated gene-seed of the Chaos Space Marines.

The Cult that Chalid created back then still lives on... sort of. You see, not a single Chaos Space Marine of that specific warband have survived to this day. The Chalid's insatiable hunger, which results of the parasites that live beneath his skin, spred to those who pledged their loyalty to this lunatic in Terminator Armour. Years in the ancient cruiser resulted in massive orgy of Chaos Space Marines, driven insane by the insatiable hunger, like Chalid, and they feasted upon each others. Whenever one member of the warband was killed and eaten, each other grew even more insane, but Chalid triumphed. He triumphed over them all, and when the aimlessly drifting vessel was finally attacked by great flock of fury daemons, everything changed.

Chalid saw the furies as the saviours of him. He thought they'd ease his pain, but he was in so great delusions, that could not saw the daemons' real form. His crew wanted to flee, but Chalid insisted they'd go and welcome them, for their songs pleased the Cat Crown. Cat Crown, locked in the deepest chambers of the vessel howled in rage and called for the furies, he needed them. He needed the daemonic flesh to ease his pain. And when the opportunity rose, Chalid smashed through the doors and took the makeshift weapons of the Warband and smacked them dead and offered their flayed skins to the furies. To ease his pain. And the furies came and accepted his offer, together they feasted upon the malformed Astartes until there was none left. It was then when Chalid took upon the furies, crushed them beneath his massive body and drank the flowing, daemonic fluids of the Lost Souls. No longer was Chalid a mere human, not that he had been a mere human for centuries, no. Now he was much more.

The daemons' shifting form was infused deep within the Cat Crown, and Chalid shifted from Warp to real space and back again. He emerged in many battlefields, like the Legion of Damned, but only a single man. He feasted upon men, alien and his chaotic brethren alike. So many years he did nothing but feasted, that all memories were lost to him and only flocks of Lost Souls followed him wherever he went.

It was not until he found the great lord of chaos, Xaphuris the Thrice Hailed, Lord of Four Winds, the Great Crusader of Chaos.

Appearance
Chalid the Cat Crown is a robust Chaos Space Marine. Infested by the mutating powers of Warp, his once so pure and delegate outlook has transformed into twisted form of a mutilator. Part of his flesh has integrated with his armour, making the original terminator armour unrecognizable abomination of flesh and metal. Chalid's intimidating appearance is not only because of his twisted mutations or his height. He is extremely, even for an Astartes, broad and heavy. Weighting way over 800 pounds Chalid is capable of pushing himself through crowds just by walking onwards and pressing lighter creatures to their death. He can even wrestle regular Astartes to ground by using his sheer weight alone.

Chalid's byname, the Cat Crown, comes from his rather feline facial features, including long fangs and pointy ears. More so, the name comes from the black stripes that start from his already silver-coloured hair and continue on his brow's pale skin.

By
"I am Chalid! Crowned King! I am the Catborn son of our Father below and Chaos above!"

- Chalid the Cat Crown

About
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Trivia

 * According to http://www.behindthename.com/ Khalid means "eternal", derived from Arabic خلد (khalada) "to last forever". To match his byname better and bring the name apart from its Arabic origins, K was changed to C.