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When I get a formal character sheet, it will go here, but I wanted to officially unveil my Chaos pupper to the world! His name is Shaidin (pronounced "Shy deen"). I plan to use him in stuff both before and after his ascension, so he may not be a daemon prince in everything.
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There are places where the Warp overlaps with Realspace and phenomena and creatures from one can intermingle with the other. Sometimes, these overlaps are natural. They simply happen, go for a while, then fade back to normal. Sometimes they are the work of forces from the other side, when the malignancies and horrors rupture like a bursting pustule into Realspace, eventually returning to normal but raining corruption, madness, and mutation while it lasts. Then there are sustained, quiet overlaps. The workings of cults that make safe passages between the real and unreal. Shaidin, cult leader, gang leader, drug lord, and daemon prince, tends to one such overlap.
The Dark Gods work in whatever ways they can get their messages out, be it clean or foul. Shaidin's life had been full of little messages, hinting him toward the path of damnation and darkness. From his time as a homeless pup where he slept in filth and garbage, falling asleep to dreams and sensations of the comforting embrace of a green rat woman, he was first exposed.
His abduction into a brothel against his will lasted up until his anger and hatred boiled over, granting him strength and dexterity he didn't know he had. He took great pleasure slowly torturing his abusers to death, their screams of pain mistaken for screams of ecstasy. From the corner of his eye, he caught glimpses of a purple bull or cow pleasuring themself to the malice.
The number of times he'd defended himself or his property through burning violence is a count long lost to him. He just remembered sensations of hot breath on his neck, the heat of a furnace against his body, and the love of fighting. His first unplanned kill was against multiple attackers. He killed the first and liked it. The others stayed and fought out of some sense of honor. One by one, he claimed them too. Though he liked the feel of fighting for his own life, the experience left him dizzy and ragged. He lay down in the alleyway and slipped into a trance similar to sleep paralysis. He swore he saw the blurry images of a red horse and brass lioness stalking through and wrenching the skulls from the dead. When Shaidin awoke, the bodies had all been decapitated.
Seeing an opportunity, a local gang recruited him, where Shaidin proved his utility and worth. Years went by and he climbed the ranks, carefully negotiating the power structure and working his way up. With every successful promotion and acquisition a prismatic feather found its way onto his pillow. He keeps them to this day.
His final conquering of the gang's hierarchy happened following a street fight. Shaidin murdered the members of his own gang who were above him and managed to play it off like the other side had done it. In the celebration afterward, he was invited into the the boss's suite where drugs and sex flowed freely. A new street drug called Warp Dust, made from the powder of a strange mineral recently found in the lower city, was passed around. Shaidin took it, and found it to be a wondrous hallucinogen. He experienced the purple cow riding him, her mewling sighs and booming moans tickling his ears and bringing a rosy excitation into his gut and chest. He felt her flesh and warmth, tasted her kisses, and smelled her body as though she were physically there. He took subsequent hits, deepening his experience, solidifying the sensations, and heightening his pleasure. The waking hallucination melted into an oily dream, dark and terrifying to most but primal and inviting to Shaidin. He saw all of his "totems" from the past, the bovine who could both and either male or female, the horse and lioness whose muscled bodies wrestled in angry and wild fornication. He saw the blue bird with prismatic wings who whispered into Shaidin's ear with their bodies pressed together. He saw the rat whose soft and loving embrace got him through cold nights now pressed Shaidin's head between her breasts and thighs.
The writhing masses of flesh, feathers, fur, sweaty musk and grimy corruption brought Shaidin to heights that would have shattered other mortals. When he woke, he found it had. Shaidn found himself the only one still alive from the drug with everyone else, including the gang lord, having overdosed.
Shaidin was now in charge.
Moved by his experiences, he craved more. Setting up and expanding his control, he took over whole city blocks in the bad parts of town, conquering other gangs and absorbing them in. He slowly incorporated his teachings, learning of Warp sorcery and passing the appropriate knowledge to his followers. He mixed his own Warp-tainted musk into the drugs they sold on the street and passed out in his buildings corrupting everyone who took them with a slobbering adoration for their "Dog Daddy."
The apartment buildings he's taken have become living spaces, drug and weapons labs, and ritual centers. With his ascension, he gained access to a world of consuming night, where misshapen tentacled horrors stalk, where Shaidin can control the very landscape, the cityscape, the air and night itself, and where he can fuse with it and make it part of his being. He is one with his planet and all components of it. Through his rituals, he bleeds a little more of it into the city in Realspace, slowly infecting and corrupting the world until he can make this new world part of his being too.
Shaidin is a powerful, dominating presence, subjugating others beneath his musky body and making them degrade themselves into his service. Sexually, he is both dominant and a power bottom, though he'll frequently be dommed when dealing with any of his "Totems" whose names are spray painted around his territory and the city abroad as part of a great and expansive ritual.
He seeks out heroes and figures from other worlds who are specifically associated with light and magic with the aim to corrupt and control them. Though he does also like royalty as he likes the idea of princes and princesses, kings and queens on their knees, licking his paws. He frequently finds himself in tug-o-war fights over such figures with the blue bird and purple cow. More often than not, such fights end with HIM on his knees before them, but that's a different story.
Shaidin's gang, "The Dogs of the Maw" and their territory known as "The Gut" are in a long-standing war of sorts with nearby gangs of orcs, lead by Grimrukk and Mornaz. Shaidin will make frequent trips out there himself for reasons unknown to his followers, and none of them are willing to ponder. It's been noted that he has come back from multiple visits with orc seed dripping down mouth and thighs.
With his ass and stomach full of orc essence, it can only be assumed that his visits with "Da Gurlz" have ended with his own seed swimming in orc wombs. His behavior seemed to suggest this is some sort of long term plan of his. It is unknown how many pig puppies he's sired, but canine features have been showing up in the orc populations since he took over.