Prince Sigvald

Prince Sigvald the Magnificent is a narcissistic villain from the tabletop wargame Warhammer Fantasy Battles and its related media. He's the infamous leader of the Slaanesh cultist division of the Hordes of Chaos and the self proclaimed champion of the lustful chaos god. Though he appears as a handsome young man, he plagued the world for three centuries.


The personification of beauty on the outside, but rot within, and all-around spoiled brat, the Geld-Prince rides at the head of an army of utterly devoted followers who would give their lives for him without a second thought. His elite bodyguard bear mirrored shields so that Sigvald might bask in his own divine glory, and dozens of exotic females attend to his every whim and desire.

Such are the depths of Sigvald’s self-obsession that he will even call his retainers to attend him with their mirrors in the midst of battle, preening and murmuring compliments to himself as men plunge into battle and die all around him. Sigvald’s baroque armour remains forever untarnished by age or the tiniest fleck of dirt, and warm perfumed air surrounds him even during the fiercest blizzard. The ground itself reshapes itself to let Sigvald pass, and his feet float an inch above the world’s surface so that his boots are never touched by the mud or gore of the battlefield. He has defeated warriors twice his size with a contemptuous flick of his rapier, for Sigvald the Magnificent is the chosen scion of Slaanesh, his every wish granted in exchange for an eternity of depravity.

Sigvald is also extremely petty and reckless as he burned a town to the ground because he didn't like the taste of the wine of a local tavern and once attempted to invade the land of Ulthuan because the High Elves have prettier hair than him.


Sigvald was once the son of a powerful warlord-king whose dark desires led him to carnal and unnatural acts. When a child was born from the union of the warlord and his own sister, the bastard infant was handsome indeed. His hair was like spun gold and his skin was unblemished save for a tiny horned birthmark on the back of his neck. At first, Sigvald’s every wish was made manifest. However, the Prince’s excesses eventually grew too obscene even for his father and, when his fondness for human flesh was discovered, Sigvald was banished. The boy-prince feigned dismay, but when his father retired for bed, Sigvald slew him with his own blade. The boy-prince left the tribe, reasoning that a man of his calibre would thrive in the Chaos Wastes. And thrive he did, but not through honest toil. Before the next dawn, the young warrior had a new patron in the form of Slaanesh.

This all came to pass when Sigvald came upon a small valley nestled between a small mountain range, deep within the heart of the Chaos Waste. It is here that he found a serene and beautiful landscape, completely shielded from the horrors which rage across the northern hellscape. It was from here that Sigvald, in his desire for perfection, gave his soul to a daemonic Slaaneshi entity known only as Belus Pül. In exchange for his patronage, Sigvald promised the daemon that he would follow his dream and indulge himself in every kind of decadence no matter how slight. With his soul sold to the daemon, Sigvald was given the power he needed to acquire anything he so desires.

Hundreds of years later, Sigvald the Magnificent marches to war at the head of an army of admiring followers. Any who the Prince deems to be ugly, crude or irritating he has put to the blade, sometimes eradicating whole cities on a whim. Slaanesh spoils his adopted son as an indulgent father, and Sigvald’s wild excesses only serve to elevate him further in the Dark Prince’s favour. Jaded and capricious in the extreme, Sigvald the Magnificent ever strives to plumb new depths of cruelty in his conquests. He inspires fanatical devotion in his followers, for they know that in the aftermath of battle, they may sate their most unholy lusts without restraint.

During the End Times, Sigvald was present in Bretonnia, sampling the finest flesh that Parravon had to offer. He was then, to his disgust, teleported directly to Archaon. He took particular insult to being paired with the Troll-king, Throgg. Later Sigvald attempted to kill Throgg for being too ugly but the troll managed to escape and plot his revenge.

He eventually came up against Krell, one of Nagash's Mortarchs. The undead warrior was initially able to dominate their fight, wounding Sigvald greatly and permanently ruining his once handsome face. At this, Sigvald gave into a rage more akin a Khornate Berserker than a refined Champion of Slaanesh, granting the Wight King yet another death. As Sigvald knelt over his opponent's body, he let out a scream of anguish. It was then that Throgg appeared behind him. The monster pummelled Sigvald into nothing more than a bloody pulp, before urinating on his ruined corpse.

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