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.
Lure of Chaos
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 Warp entities 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 sprawled little spidery creatures, eating his flesh and taking with it his 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 agony and his 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 from 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's, 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 being much more insane and corrupted by the mutating powers of Chaos, and when the aimlessly drifting vessel was finally attacked by great flock of fury daemons, everything changed.
Chalid saw the furies as his saviors. 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, and all memories were lost to him and only flocks of Lost Souls followed him wherever he went.
Great Crusader of Chaos
With the ceaselessly flapping wings of the daemons of the Lost Souls in his back, the Cat Crown rose amidst the ranks of the Chaos Lords. Even if he didn't think himself a mere Chaos Lord but a King, crowned with terror by the daemons that followed him. But it all mattered very little to this Warp-wrecked man. Hunger, it never ended, and Cat Crown was forced to raid small, newly converted Astartes warbands, who in their recklessness couldn't anticipate the true form of the Living Weapon. He had became a mutilator, such was his delight in battle that a single power fist accompanied with a lightning claw could not ever help him through the fate he had forged for himself. His mangled limbs could now form into weapons of destruction and he could punch himself through even the thickest plates of Escort vessels.
So he feasted. Because that was all he could do. And the vulture like Furies swarmed around him, when he threw the viscera covered plates of the Astartes' power armours' he had just devoured, to the depthless abyss of the Immaterium around. From time to time some chaotic lot joined the Crowned Cat's endeavour, only to be eaten by him afterwards. Only the Furies were cunning and nimble enough to know not to go close their Crowned King.
The endless voyage for more and more food finally led him on a battlefield located in some forgotten dead-end of the forsaken galaxy. It was then when he heard the voice of chaos, spoken by a mere mortal. And the Cat Crown wondered, how could it be? But true it was, for his hunger was sated and he knew that the Thirsting Gods smiled upon him, and he had a task to fill. Pledging his life to the great lord of chaos he brought the flocks of the fell birds that kept following him, daemons of the Lost Souls and the Ultimate Chaos was pleased, so he thought, for he had became a servant of Xaphuris the Thrice Hailed, Lord of Four Winds, Soother of Hunger, Invoker of Dread, Divine Word, Truth Preacher, and the Great Crusader of Chaos, and he would lead Chalid in front of such tables where he could feast as he only wished to.
Note: Note, that this paragraph is 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...
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...
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 Chaos below and Father above! 
I am Chalid the Cat Crown and in the end, I will feast upon you all!
Chalid is, simply put, insane. He is lunatic of such magnitude that we normal people can not even grasp a hint of his real personality. Wishes, hopes, dreams, fears... Chalid has none. All he ever thinks of is feeding, and more he feeds, more insatiable and unbearable the hunger becomes.
The Cat Crown is quite predictable foe, for he frowns upon waiting and charges for his feast as soon as possible, but quite unpredictable ally. Ever muttering his thoughts outloud, whispering answers to the vast array of questions that spawn beyod the mortal realm, Chalid is irritating at best. One could even think that he has no petty mortal feelings anymore, but it is not true at all. The Lost Souls that follow in his red wake imbue him with many feelings and it may surely be that Chalid himself is not anymore capable of feeling anything, the daemonic influence is way too powerful for him. Having fed upon his winged friends, the flocks' calling always gives him a thought or two and he eagerly grasps even the slightest hint of humanity he might regain after the years of insanity.
Before turning into this lunatic, Chalid was prideful. Chaos King Chalid the Cat Crown, Crowned with the Terror of Lost Souls, Lord of Hunger... many nicknames he had given to himself, maybe so that he might talk to himself when his wrecked life seems to shrink, and the walls of his bower seem to close in about him, like a hutch to trammel some wild thing in. But more likely it is because of the recognition he yearns. There is little glory or recognition for a Space Marine, even for a veteran, who fails to accomplish anything spectacular. But for one blessed by daemon there surely is. When his hunger was sated, by the words of foulness and corruption that Xaphuris spoke to him, his lust for power was awoken again and small amount of sanity restored.
Xaphuris may indeed talk highly about Chalid in order to please the Cat Crown's need to be recognised, but he is not stupid enough to turn his back to the Lion of the Warp for it might be that some day the hunger returns and when it does, there is little his words might do.
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. 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.
Chalid is not dangerous because he is massive, hulking brute beast with strength to smash his fists through APC's side armour like one does for cardboard box. Or because he is always, wherever he goes, followed by a great flock of Furies that circle in the sky and swoop down even by the Cat Crown's slightest gesture to do so. Chalid is dangerous because he is insane and unpredictable.
Mutilator weapons are Cat Crown's most noticeable talent. Capable of creating many different weapons at whim to either of his hands is truly a great gift of Chaos and serves Chalid's unpredictable nature well. When pounding his way through a Leman Russ Battletank with dual power fists he might turn around just to slash incoming infantry with a whip of fire and flesh. Of course, there is one serious weakness in this, and it is the lack of firearms. Nevertheless, the mutating powers of Warp have tranformed Chalid's ancient terminator armour into fleshmetal and his daemon infused form makes him capable of deflecting even a direct hit of a lascannon with nothing but a shrug. One day, it might fail him, but most likely the Crowned Cat cares nough for such thoughts.
It is hard to tell if Chalid actually has any equipment with him or not. Clearly the weapons he wields are spawned from his mutated insides to serve him with the task at hand. The armour he wears is so old that he is unable to take it off anymore. As said; he doesn't use firearms. He carries no artefacts. Holds no books, has no treasures, jewellery, or anything at all. He is everything he has.
All in all, Chalid is a difficult person. Not only because he is dead-insane because of the years of cannibalism and the whispering voices of Chaos, but also for his insatiable hunger. Only one who can sooth his hunger and quench his thirst could ever see his true form, or what is left of it, and call him an ally.
The Great Crusader of Chaos is the Lord and Savior of Chalid and so the Cat Crown eagerly serves him to hear his words about chaos.
Afraid to loose his salvation, Chalid, even if amongst the Xaphuris war council... or at least one of his forces many leaders, tries to keep distance to the Foul Preacher. When talked to, he purrs his answers with such pleasant joy it is hard to know what the Cat Crown is up to, never looking to the mighty Chaos Lord's eyes. It is truly a miracle if Xaphuris has any faith to this mad mutilator. In truth it might be much more complex, however, and the Xaphuris might indeed see the Cat Crown already a blessed one, Chosen by the Chaos and on the doorstep to daemonhood. In ultimate, the mighty Lord might think Chalid as a bliss from the Dark Gods, for so many assaults have been won by the charging mutilator and his flock of Fell Birds.
Chalid serves the Xaphuris and his Dark Covenant as well as a loyal lunatic can. He does not however much hail any of the other Chaos Lords within it, for all he cares is table filled with corpses and Xaphuris' soothing voice.
The Blessed Ones are an incoherent warband within the Dark Covenant, all loyal to Chalid and his prowess in battle. The Blessed Ones are group of, mostly, lunatics and insane servants of the Chaos who have at some point begun to follow Chalid and his ways. Most of the members of the band see themselves as beasts and act like such. This particular "warband" believes into power of strength and many have tried to dethrone Chalid the Cat Crown from his position as the leader of this lot. Needless to say, all of them have failed.
Chalid serves this warband more as the alpha male than an actual leader. Chalid is only a servant, of Xaphuris, and claims no leadership over others. Some in the Dark Covenant's many cells even whisper that Chalid is not sane enough to do so, which might in fact be true. The Blessed Ones feel kinship with the Crowned King and please him as they can so they can participate in Chalid's massive feasts on battlefield. The most loyal ones form a sort of "inner circle" within the warband and guard their King from those of other warbands or cells within the Dark Covenant.
Chalid's daemon-infested body, when combined with his Chaos-charged mind and strength, is apt to draw similar creatures into his pack. Most notably the Furies, daemons of Chaos Undivided, are drawn to Chalid's presence and they circle him and his band of Blessed like vultures circle the predators. Other Mutilators and even newly infected Obliterators feel Chalid's call in the Immaterium to join to the Eternal War. Possessed Chaos Space Marines are common part of the Cat Crown's shock troops and tend to move on battlefield via Warp. Many members of the other cells within the Dark Covenant have been dumped under Chalid's rule because they have turned against each others or have finally lost their sanity for good. These include mere mortal cultists, handfull of berserkers completely lost in their bloodthirst, vile daemon machines like Helbrutes and many, many more, for it is not at all uncommon for a servant of Chaos to lose his sanity.
Used as initiative shock and terror troops, Xaphuris favors Chalid's band because of their instant appearance on battlefield (via Warp) and the havok they manage to create before any reactions can be made by the defenders. There are all types, lightning-fast flying close combat squads (of Furies); strong, durable and moving heavy weapon platforms (Obliterators), fast terror-shock troops (possessed), strong and heavy assault troops (Mutilators), meatshield and others, but most importantly to Xaphuris: all of them daemonic and infested by the mutating powers of Chaos Undivided.
- "I am Chalid! Crowned King! I am the Catborn son of our Chaos below and Father above!"
- —Chalid the Cat Crown
- —Chalid, when given a nice and warm bowl of skimmed milk
(Feel free to add your own!)
- "Many see the Cat-Crowned as a simple beast, content so long as it might wet it's claws with blood in a mindless frenzy. I see it differently, for this blessed being, this Lion of the Warp, has seen the true face of the Gods and emerged all the stronger for it!"
- "Ah, they have a Mutilator, how quaint. Leviathan, destroy."
- —Warpsmith Hurlok Zahz, ordering his Maulerfiend to attack Chalid during the War for Firehold[src]
- "Another PR blunder from the moronic powers. Notice how nobody ever becomes sane and gorgeous after turning to Chaos?"
- 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.
- This is a reference to an image of Baphomet originating from the late Middle Ages. In the image Baphomet, the Devil, points to silver crescent with a hand "solve" and to black crescent with a hand "coacula". In this context it of course refers to Gods of Chaos (coacula) and the Emperor of Mankind (solve).
- Loyal to my sort of "trademark", Chalid too has number of bynames, in case you were confused during the text, they are:
- Cat Crown - apparently Chalid's own favourite
- Crowned Cat - one used by those stupid enough to join Chalid's "cause"
- Crowned King - one used by Furies who follow Chalid
- Lion of the Warp - name given him by his master Xaphuris
- Lord of Hunger - apparently the most self-ironic thing Cat Crown has ever said
- Xaphuris also has number of bynames that are apparently given by Chalid:
- Divine Word - for Xaphuris is the one and only true preacher of the Word of Chaos
- Foul Preacher - rather general byname
- Great Crusader of Chaos - rather general byname referring to Xaphuris' cause
- Invoker of Dread - rather general byname, possibly refers to such fact that Chalid is in fact a bit afraid of his master
- Lord of Four Winds - four winds refers to north, east, south and west in many cultures. In this context it means Four Gods of Chaos, but also Four Corners of the Galaxy, meaning ultimately "the Lord of Everything"
- Soother of Hunger - Chalid's thirst is quenched by the words of chaos
- Thrice Hailed - meaning unknown
- Truth Preacher - for Xaphuris is the one and only true preacher of the Word of Chaos
- Other bynames used within text, these are:
- Fell Birds - byname for Furies
- Living Weapon - byname for a mutilator and not in fact Chalid's personal byname
- Lost Souls - means Furies, daemons (most likely) born from the souls of the mortals who followed Chaos Unaligned
- Thirsting Gods - canon byname for Gods of the 41st Millennium, used in this article as a byname for Four Gods of Chaos
- Weapon Incarnate - byname for a mutilator and not in fact Chalid's personal byname