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Attention, Empire Citizens!
This article or this section of the article contains information regarding the Storm of Chaos campaign and its aftermath, which is now considered a non-canon, alternate timeline.
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"A king's son shall be the chosen. In power will he thrive and glory in his name."
- —The Prophecy of Fate
Styrkaar of the Sortsvinaer on a serpent-like Steed of Slaanesh.
Styrkaar of the Sortsvinaer was a young Champion of Slaanesh, the leader of his Norse tribe, and the killer of his own father as well as one of Archaon's Lieutenants. He later became a staunch ally of Archaon and aided the Everchosen during the End Times by leading an invasion of the Old World with his Slaaneshi armies.[1]
History[]
Styrkaar was born into the Sotrsvinaer tribe on the northern coast of Norsca. His father, Jerg Svengor, was a Marauder Chieftain, and throughout his childhood Styrkaar was treated with the respect due to the son of such a renowned leader of men. Yet the Norscans are a hard people in a hard country, and they must be strong if they are to survive, and no warrior of that icy land, no matter how great and respected, would have a weak or spoiled son. So, just like any other Norscan boy, Styrkaar learned how to hunt and fish, and he was taught all the skills of a warrior.[2a][3a]
Jerg Svengor was a formidable man, harsh and volatile as all great leaders of the northern climes seem to be, and oft was the time when Styrkaar felt his father's fists. Yet, when another warrior beat young Styrkaar, Svengor had the warrior whipped until his back was bloodied and flayed bare of its skin. But, even-handed in his justice, Svengor then beat his son, for he agreed that Styrkaar did deserve to be punished, but wanted all to know that it was no one else's right other than his own to mete it out.[2a][3a]
From the earliest age Styrkaar was aware he had a companion, unseen by the rest of the tribe, and as a baby he would giggle at the antics of this being as it danced above his crib. This shadow-friend told Styrkaar its name, Sle'zuzu, and bade the boy never to speak of his presence, not to friends nor family, else he would disappear, never to return. An intelligent and devious child, Styrkaar accepted this without question, and not for a moment in all the years of his childhood did he think it strange to have Sle'zuzu as his constant companion.[2a][3a]
For his part, Sle'zuzu would whisper words and secrets to the young chieftain's son that made his life easier. If Styrkaar was caught in some childish scrape, then Sle'zuzu would speak quietly in his ear. Prompted by his shadow-friend, the young boy would repeat these words out loud, and his punishment was often lessened because of them. Sle'zuzu seemed to know exactly the right words Styrkaar needed to say to calm those who were angry and make people pleased by his apparent wit and intelligence.[2a][3a]
Styrkaar was a popular child, making friends effortlessly and charming adults who were impressed by his fearless attitude and total self-confidence. His peers respected him, for he received no favouritism from his harsh father. He trained alongside the other children in the techniques of warfare, and of crewing the great Norse Longships across the icy sea. Blessed was the boy, for he excelled in all things, impressing his elders and filling his father with unspoken pride. With Sle'zuzu's promptings, Styrkaar began to realise that he could use this popularity to his own advantage.[2a][3a]
By his eighteenth summer Styrkaar had secured for himself a powerful position within his tribe, and all held him in high esteem. He had grown tall and strong and was one of the mightiest warriors of his people. Many were the raids that he led and won against rival tribes, and he had even subdued the Kurgan to the north, and ravaged several coastal towns of the "effete" southern peoples of The Empire and Bretonnia.[2a][3a]
Both his peers and the older veterans of the Sortsvinaer followed his lead without question, for such was their faith in Svengor's son. But for his part, Svengor's pride for his son had begun to sour, for he knew that his popularity with the tribe and the loyalty he inspired within its warriors was a threat to his own position as chieftain. His treatment of Styrkaar became ever more brutal, and this served only to fan the growing resentment of his people. Prompted by Sle'zuzu, Styrkaar quietly fuelled this resentment, though he was ever careful never to appear disloyal.[2a][3a]
Eventually, a confrontation arose between father and son, during a feast celebrating yet another of Styrkaar's successful raids. Jerg Svengor, his face reddened by drink, refused to join in the toast raised in his son's honour. Instead he pointed at Styrkaar and stated that his son would never equal the greatness that he himself possessed. As the gathered tribesmen began to murmur disapprovingly at their liege-lord's drunken words, Sle'zuzu, who spoke only rarely to Styrkaar these days, prompted the young warrior into action.[2a][3a]
He rose from his seat, and, with Sle'zuzu feeding him the words to speak, calmly asked him father to raise his goblet to join in the toast. Outraged, Svengor leapt unsteadily to his feet and swung his fist in a clumsy blow, smashing Styrkaar to the ground. A slight smile touched touched Styrkaar's lips for a moment as he rose from the ground and wiped a small trickle of blood from his nose.[2a][3a]
His fellow tribesmen had all risen from their benches to surround Svengor and his son. All was quiet in the hall, save for the occasional crack of burning wood from the firepit, until a voice sounded at the back of the throng, shouting for Styrkaar to strike back against his father. The young warrior smiled, for he recognised the voice had been none other than that of his invisible companion, Sle'zuzu. Other voices soon joined with this one, until the entire hall rocked with the sound of people urging Styrkaar on.[2a][3a]
It was then that Svengor realised his predicament. No one in the hall called his name: none of his warriors stood by him. He knew that he was facing death, death at the hands of his only son. But his path was set, and drunk or no, there was only one course of action open to a warrior in his position. Turning back to his still smiling son, Svengor balled his fists once more and charged.[2a][3a]
That night, Styrkaar became the new jerg of the tribe. The feasting continued for three solid days and nights. When at last the celebration ended, Styrkaar lay exhausted and exhilarated on his father's furred pallet, a sleeping woman on either side of him. Sle'zuzu came to him then, whispering in his sibilant voice. The Daemon told Styrkaar to raise an altar to the Dark Prince Slaanesh, or "Shornaal" as he is known amongst the Sortsvinaer. Sle'zuzu told Styrkaar that Slaanesh was already looking down upon him, and had already shown his divine favour upon the young warrior. Styrkaar was well pleased with these words, and lay back onto his soft pallet with visions of grandeur and excess filling his mind.[2a][3a]
In the following years, Styrkaar lead the Sortsvinaer on ever-greater and more ambitious raids and battles, revelling in the excessive slaughter he brought down upon his enemies. Always as he fought, he heaped his devotions upon the god Slaanesh, and always did he return victorious. After one such raid, Slaanesh made it known that Styrkaar's actions were indeed pleasing and, as the sky darkened above, the spirit of Sle'zuzu was forced into Styrkaar's mind and convulsing body, blending the two into one.[2a][3a]
Even as his warriors watched, Styrkaar's teeth lengthened into delicate fangs, and his skin took on an unnatural glow from within, as if a cold light burned just beneath the surface. Knowing[2a][3a] nothing of Sle'zuzu, Styrkaar's unquestioningly loyal warriors saw only that their beloved leader had been touched by the gods, and fell to their knees in adoration and wonder.
As the years progressed, Styrkaar's fame continued to spread across the lands of the north, and his favour with Slaanesh became increasingly apparent. He rode into battle upon the back of a strange serpent-steed -- a Daemonic gift from his patron and master. Warriors came from all over Norsca and the Northern Wastes to fight alongside one so favoured by the gods, hoping that in doing so they might themselves gain a measure of their new lord's greatness. Styrkaar bathed in the praise and devotion that was lavished upon him, and his followers continued to grow in number.[2a][3a]
And yet, though worshipped almost as a god, Styrkaar did not grow soft under the weight of such adoration. In battle he was said to move with fluid grace, filling his enemies with a mixture of awe and horror. He gloried in slaughter, rampaging through the ranks of his enemies, meting out death and suffering with every flick of his curved blade.[2a][3a]
His greatest delight was in the pain and fear he inflicted upon his enemies, and the rewards he would reap from them once they had been subdued. In battle, his followers would scream, revelling in his psychotic debauchery, bustling to get as close as they could to his exalted form. If any of them got too near, Styrkaar would lash out at them, and they would fall back, ecstatic at having been touched by their idol.[2a][3a]
Styrkaar's killing spree continued unabated for two decades. In bloody combat, Styrkaar and his followers slaughtered many of the powerful warbands that roamed the Chaos Wastes, including that of the dread Karnak and his devotees of Khorne, and the mysterious Asgeiir and his masked warriors of Tzeentch. In hand-to-hand combat, Styrkaar is said to have slaughtered Vandred the Majestic, a favoured Champion of Slaanesh. Upon the Champion's death, his own warband dropped to their knees to sing Styrkaar's praises.[2a][3a]
Eventually, there came the day when whispers began to reach Styrkaar of a warrior blessed beyond all others, who bore the most ancient and holy artefacts of the gods. The name of Archaon broke through the haze of adoration that surrounded Styrkaar. At first, the name and the awe that surrounded it angered him, but his god, the rapturous Slaanesh, made it known that Archaon held his favour, as well as that of the entire pantheon of the Chaos Gods. Styrkaar was not to stand against him. Voices began to whisper within Styrkaar's mind, and he began to formulate a plan.[2a][3a]
Stories of Archaon's successes continued to spread throughout the lands, and when word came of his arrival within Sortsvinaer territory, the tribes were excited and fearful. They knew that their lord Styrkaar had slain his rival Champion Vandred, and that Vandred had been a favoured companion of Archaon. Many believed that Archaon brought war to the Sortsvinaer, yet Styrkaar remained unmoving within his great hall, even as he was told that Archaon and his infamous Swords of Chaos approached.[2a][3a]
Archaon and his warband rode unopposed through the villages of the Sortsvinaer, and made their way to Styrkaar's hall. Only when Archaon stooped his massive form to enter the hall did Styrkaar stir, raising himself from his reclining pose. With a dismissive wave of his hand, Styrkaar waved his awe-struck attendants from the room.[2a][3a]
When the pair emerged from the hall, they saw that many people had travelled from all over Sortsvinaer to witness the outcome of this meeting. As was the custom amongst Sortsvinaer allies, the two mighty warlords clasped each other's forearms in a firm grasp, and the crowds gathered there filled the air with raucous cheering.[2a][3a]
Styrkaar had struck a pact with Archaon, promising that when the time came, he would launch all his longships to ravage the coasts of the Old World, and strike terror behind the lines of their hated southern enemies.[2a][3a]
For his part, Styrkaar looked towards that day with longing. He knew that Slaanesh was well pleased with his endeavours, and that if he performed well in the coming conflict, then surely his path to Daemonhood was assured.[2a][3a]
During Archaon's invasion of the Empire, Styrkaar and his army sacked the towns of Kurst and Zundap, but the excessive victory celebrations delayed the march of the Slaaneshi horde. Styrkaar then laid siege to Hergig, the capital of Hochland and sacked it, with the help of Skaven allies. Exhausted from the long siege and the following celebrations, which had lasted for weeks, he and his warriors did not play a big part in the siege of Middenheim.[1]
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