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Lord Savage and his Slaaneshi warband deserve some background before any forays into the Realm of Chaos, so here goes.
Lord Savage and the Beckoning.
Dibdin Savage was born in the Elven town of Hesel and ascended to the rank of Baron of Hesel upon the premature death of his father, mother, sister and six brothers, eleven years later. He was an extaordinarily popular Baron, not least with the local immature Elf-maidens who admired his lustrous, long, blonde hair, which was unusual amongst their kind.
The precocious Baron Savage was summoned to the court of the Witch-King, so that the paranoid Elven ruler could assess this new noble, but despite his age proved adept at negotiating the twisting and often lethal political games played in Naggarond. After delving into slave-trading for a few years as a means to acquire more political capital Savage earned enough money to draw the gaze of all echelons of Dark Elven society.
He then became something of a favourite of Morathi, the Hag-Mother, serving first as an advisor on mundane matters but eventually becoming her most respected military counsellor. Savage oversaw a resurgence of the on-going guerilla campaign in Northern Ulthuan when most of his peers were advocating a 'Managed Decline' of the Witch-King's support for that conflict, he also stepped in to re-capture a group of small but strategic islands off the Lustrian Coast which saw him finally replace his disgraced chief rival as Morathi's highest ranking advisor.
It was during this period of his life that Savage was inducted into a pleasure cult, at the behest of Morathi. Savage took to the cult with extreme delight and dedication. He had indulged himself with countless slaves and lower status Elf-maids over the years and of course had raped his mother and sister before slitting their throats but the activities the cult had to offer were simply unequalled in intensity. Membership of the cult also seemed to enhance the already mesmerising sheen of his mane of hair.
Given the circular nature of Dark Elvish political life it was now inevitable that Savage himself would be the target of some scandal, it came in the form of the Western Lands affair. Savage wanted to rescue a beleaguered chariot manufacturer, Naggaroth's largest defence contractor, with a plan that involved expansion into the western lands to find cheap, wild Cold Ones. Unfortunately and humiliatingly for Savage, the Witch-King and Morathi chose instead to trade slaves for Cold One eggs with the Lizardmen to the south.
The ramifications of Savage's fall from favour were to be severe, he had lost the aura of infallibility that had shielded him from serious political rough-housing and became a magnet for every scheme and machination his devious adversaries could enact. In time it became obvious that a period away from Naggarond would be essential for his survival, let alone career, so he sold up his assets and set sail aboard his Ark the 'Hag-Queen's Ire' for a life of piracy and slaving on the Elvish Main.
On the first night at sea, and every night since, Savage dreamed of a dreary industrial wasteland on the cursed Isle of Albion. Visions of squat castles with leering, mutant, eagles on the battlements and ill-kempt grey fortresses with legions of slaves inside being forced to manufacture tools of war. The nightmares were vivid, so very real, that even with his Elven constitution for cruelty Savage could barely stomach the terrible fate of those banished to this barren hinterland. Over all of this grey desert loomed a figure, in the distance. In his dreams Savage could never look directly at the figure, he could only glimpse it in peripheral sweeps. It seemed to be roughly Elven but with a horned, bovine head and a lobster claw that worried and gnawed at it's single breast.
After a few months at sea Savage became convinced that the figure was trying to communicate with him. During his inductions into the upper circles of the pleasure cult back in Naggarond, Savage had heard whisperings of the nature of the God they honoured with their orgies and depravities. Could it be? Did that God want Savage to hear him now? Savage trembled at the idea. It was then that he thought of that night many years ago, the night he claimed his birthright as Baron of Hesel, and the dreams he had had leading up to that glorious blood-soaked orgy of destruction. He realised for the first time that the figure had always been there.
Eventually, Savage learned to cope with his visions. They were no longer nightmarish, instead they soothed him, they succoured him, they nurtured him. The slaves he captured on raids were no longer stored in pens for transport back to Naggorothi territory, they were used up in Savage's rituals. His crew became divided, some of them had grown to worship their master, as Savage had grown to worship who he knew now to be Slaanesh, though many of them were still blinded by a desire for profit. These unbelievers were taken, one by one, and served a final purpose in the dark praises of their Lord.
With his crew thus depleted and unsuited to further piracy, Savage and his most loyal followers set sail for Albion and the Kingdom of nightmare that so offended his God. There, he was to raise his banner and march upon the enemy holds, overthrowing the tyranny of the foul despots and replacing it with his rule. It was to be a golden age of lawless and wanton merry-making, where there was restriction there would be boundless freedom, where there were physical laws there would be entropy, and where there was rigid order there would be Chaos.
The time is close, Savage's destiny is at hand. He has beached the Hag-Queen's Ire on the western shores and marched inland in search of his enemies. Along the way, beasts of the forest have been drawn to him, seven Beastmen now worship him and the fearsome Chaos Steed 'Throatripper' loves a new master. Two Ogres have been overwhelmed by the aura of destiny surrounding Savage and now follow him also.
His journey to the trial his God has set before him will have many twists and turns, but of these you will have to learn another day.
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