1- Warp Shenanigans
You know something is not right when the rest of the Champion of Chaos called you the Weird. Make it double when you are a Champion of Slaanesh.
That is the burden of Ulgar the Weird, the friendliest champion of Slaanesh that the Old World has ever seen. First of all, Ulgar was reasonable, calm, logic, and the complete opposite of the usual sex/drug/something high fueled addicts that formed the basis of the legions of Slaanesh Champions.
Mid you, that Ulgar was a sex addict of the highest caliber, but he was sensitive enough to only carry his battle harem to the fields and left the rest of his harem, safe and protected into his very own fortress in the Chaos deserts.
Ulgar war band was a very mobile one, chariots, light, and heavy cavalry, only when he expected a long battle did he brought the tribes of Gors that he had under his command. All his raids, be it at human or elves domains, are always fast, devastating, and efficient strikes, grabbing the highest profit at the smallest cost.
In the beginning, the Champions of Chaos that followed Ulgar believed that he was not worthy, that he was weak, that he lacked the determination and hunger that it was needed to ascend to godhood. Nothing further from the truth Ulgar had a unique trait that made him exceptional.
Ulgar had freaking common sense and had studied long and deep, the reality of the daemons and what means to become a daemon of any of the Chaos gods, that's why he was enjoying his life to the fullest. Devouring life in mouthful bites, but always careful of never chewing more than he can swallow.
The worst that Ulgar had to deal with was the lack of attention of his daemonic patron and the occasional revolt of one of the leaders of the diverse forces of his Warband. In time, the main force of the Warband, the chaos warriors that had accompanied Ulgar since the first day that they grew into warriors, become loyal to him. But the others, warriors that adored the Four, beastmen, the occasional daemon prince that seek and alliance, etc, those were always a headache.
In truth, Ulgar liked to kept it simple, so his forces were divided into three sections.
The warriors, his tribe that has grown into an army by now, under his direct command, the beastmen under the command of a Minotaur called Ravager and the sorcerers under the command of Lezzile.
The biggest headache these days was Lezzile.
Ravager was happy with the strikes that Ulgar planned, lots of food, and broodmares, Ulgar also tended to kept the casualties at minimum, so the Minotaur was satisfied with his forces not used as cannon fodder.
And there laid the conflict with the sorcerers.
Whenever they summon daemons, the daemons are always sent as cannon fodder, lines, and lines of chaos furies, beasts of Slaanesh, fiends, and daemonettes were sent in waves to soak up arrows and any long-distance projectiles, so the rest of Ulgar forces could navigate to an advantageous position and deliver a killing stroke to the enemy forces.
For Ulgar, it was just common sense, the daemons are immortals, no matter how many do you kill, they will just vanish back to the realm of souls and they will reconfigure there. There are very few things that could permanently slay a daemon, so using the immortal and eternal soldiers as cannon fodder was just simply and reasonable logic.
The sorcerers, especially Lezzile, a former sorceress from Naggarond that saw the glories of Slaanesh under the guidance of Morathi and joined the pleasure cults until some noble from Naggarond betrayed them and she had to run out of the city.
Ulgar regularly lays with the sorceress, she was a gorgeous elf of dark hair and delightful breasts, not to mention her absolute masterpiece of a tongue, a long, fleshy tongue that could warp around Ulgar's massive schlong and deliver a tongue job that must be felt to be believed. Between romps, always with Lessi; she hated that nicknamed and Ulgar used it all the time; trying to be the dominant and always ended up on an ass up, face down position and fucked silly for hours, Lezzile tried to convince Ulgar to take a more aggressive approach on his conquests.
Ulgar smiled, listened patiently, even asked the correct questions at the right moment and the end, he took Lezzile and facefuck her, letting her know that her advice will be taken into consideration but that she was there to be a good concubine and summon as many daemons as Ulgar could need.
Pragmatically speaking, Ulgar was running a very efficient Warband.
All years, Ulgar took spring and summer stations to raid both the old world and Naggarond and stockpiling as many supplies as he could, before closing up the hatches of his fortress during fall and winter.
During those six months, it was party time at the fortress, indulging in month-long orgies and feasts with all the food that they have amassed and given birth to a new generation of warriors.
Ulgar had a personal harem of six women that were capable warriors and even greater loves, so enamored with his cock that they will battle a Bloodthirster if Ulgar just commanded so, but Ulgar would never waste any of them like that, it was one of the main reasons why they loved him too much.
Those six women handpicked the greatest prices from all the slaves that the war-band has captured during their raid and turned them into submissive sluts, all for the pleasures of Ulgar. The rest were distributed between the other two sections of the forces. Usually, Lezzile took lots of them, break them for her magics and deliver the meat sacks to Ravager that used them for breeding more gors or to join the food provisions.
Ulgar indulged in the orgies with her harem, the new trained sluts, and all the female member of his tribe that approved of the test of his harem to lay with him. All his children were taken by the tribe, the male ones to be raised as warrior prospects, and the daughters as the mother of more warriors for the band.
Nothing is wasted in Ulgar's Warband.
The Weird Ones was the name that the Warband received, a mockery, an insult, but the effectiveness and the continued survival of the war band, along with how their numbers never dwindled, neither was Ulgar defeated in the contest of champions that was constant in the Chaos deserts, only made the Weird ones, precisely that, a weird anomaly in the chaos forces.
Curiously enough, Ulgar has not received as many daemonic gifts as other, less successful champions, only proving the point that the four were fickle as fuck and that Ulgar was a champion of the Slaanesh because by the point that he learned how shit works he was already neck-deep in the shit and unable to turn back.
It was one of those sinks or swim situations.
Making the best out of a shitty situation, Ulgar grew to be a champion of the patron of his tribe, even if he was a very unorthodox one. His consecutive success had earned him several gifts from Slaanesh.
A Blissgiver weapon, a chariot carried by fiends, a purple-skinned body of pure physical perfection, blood that turned into drugs as soon as the adrenaline started pumping, adaptive cock, tentacle white hair, a third eye in the forehead, usual mutations among the champions.
Ulgar was happy as he was, fearing that more gifts would end up with him becoming a grotesque monster or a chaos-spawn. To control the mutations, Ulgar started to master magic, learning all the sorcery that he could from Lezzile. That's it, after a good dicking to kept her shut up about what Ulgar should do and more focused on servicing his cock and obeying his orders.
That was the problem with the elf, she believed that she was the real mastermind behind the Warband and Ulgar had to fuck her into a sex coma to remind her who was the bitch of who. Truth be told, more often than not, Ulgar had considered the possibility of killing the elf by fucking her to death, offering her fucked up corpse to any daemon that could be interested in her soul.
But the lass was the best cocksucker in the Warband and the only one of all the women of Ulgar that could take his dick to the hilt. Her pussy was a work of art, a wet velvet pressure chamber that hugged Ulgar's cock just the right way.
A couple of centuries passed and when Archaon crowned himself as the Everchose, Ulgar knew that his halcyon days were at the end. And everybody else for that matter, with Archaon, came the End of Times, the moment when Chaos will swallow the world.
Ulgar has been preparing for it for around fifty years; a vision granted by his third eye, show him that the Chaos was ready for a brutal onslaught, one that will finally claim the world for Chaos, even if the previous Everchosen had not achieved such results, Archaon was destined to do it.
On normal circumstances, Ulgar would have claimed bullshit; the usual Tzeentch always know it all horseshit that all sorcerers of the old beak head claimed, but the vision came from Slaanesh itself and if Ulgar's patron was all behind the new kid on the block, Ulgar knew that he was fucked up.
Archaon would never allow Ulgar to exists. Ulgar the Weird was someone that had no place in Archaon's horde unless his corpse was used to decorate the horde's banner. Ulgar's methods, his intelligence, his common sense, and his efficiency was something that threatened Archaon, that ruled a tight ship and the least that the Everchosen needed was someone capable of getting shit done around, stealing the spotlight.
So, Ulgar took a drastic measure and after leaving the command to Lezzile, much to the amazement and delight of the elf claimed that he was going to pilgrimage to the North Pole gates and commune with a Greater Daemon of Slaanesh to get more glory and worthiness to the horde.
The Warband ate that bullshit completely, something that Ulgar knew that it would happen, the worst part was that Ulgar had to abandon his warrior maidens. Ulgar loved them, but they had a chance under Lezzile's command and zero chances of survival if they accompanied him to the North Gate.
Ulgar planned to jump out of creation, swimming though the soul realm and into a new plane before the Chaos Gods fucked up the planet in their usual bombastic manner. It was a desperate plan that had very low chances of actually succeed, but it was jumping into the unknown or be butchered by Archaon.
Archaon was a monster, a monster that was capable of go toe to toe with dragons and daemons equally. In terms of pure martial skill, maybe Ulgar was better, in terms of magical powers they would equal, but in raw strength Archaon had him beat. Not to mention that Archaon had the relics of the Everchosen, six powerful artifacts that make him unequaled by anything that was not one of the greatest daemon princes.
Guided by his pragmatism and holding a sad heart; another of the traits that make him way different from the rest of the Chaos Champions, Ulgar drove his infernal chariot up north, cleaving a savage path whenever Ulgar encountered any resistance or any other Warband or horde thought that he was easy prey.
Pumping drugs practically 24/7, killing and killing and killing and having orgasm by the second; with each daemon that his Blissgiver killed, the soul of the defeated foe gave the daemonette inside of the weapon a high, that was translated into pleasure for Ulgar; Ulgar carved a bloody path along the north of the world.
Feeding himself with the blood of the daemons that he killed, ravaging entire tribes of mutants from the northernmost corners of the deserts of chaos, intoxicating himself with poisons that would kill a Great Unclean One, beheading entire armies and eating their brains to feed on the nightmares that he has produced on their last moments before Ulgar killed them.
Overpowering and dicking a Keeper of Secrets until it begged for mercy, ripping the arms of a Bloodthirster and killing him with them, strangle a Lord of Change with its wings and force-feeding his skull to a Great Unclean One, were some of the feats that Ulgar accomplished in his inebriated state. An unholy mixture of his blood, the body fluids of mutants and daemons alike, and overuse of the sorcery that his third eye granted to him.
Ulgar was high as a kite, even Daemonettes would be brain fried by now by the sheer amount of drugs and other sensations and chemical pleasures that ran through the veins of Ulgar, but the man persevered and finally, in a feat that no one has ever achieved nor will be recorded, Ulgar reached the North Portal and jump on it.
By that point in time, Slaanesh turned his gaze for a second to his forgotten champion, his stale and ordered pragmatism disgusted the Dark Prince, but the results were undeniable, however, the Dark Prince realized way too late that his greatest champion was forever lost.
Ulgar had jumped into the Well of Eternity, where only Kairos the Fateweaver has ever returned.
Ulgar was now beyond the reach of Slaanesh, in a world that needed a champion and that got the oddest champion of Slaanesh ever.