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Before the next dawn, the young warrior had a new patron in the form of Slaanesh.

And thrive he did, but not through honest toil. The boy-prince left the tribe, reasoning that a man of his calibre would thrive in the Chaos Wastes. The boy-prince feigned dismay, but when his father retired for bed, Sigvald slew him with his own blade. 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. At first, Sigvald's every wish was made manifest. His hair was like spun gold and his skin was unblemished save for a tiny horned birthmark on the back of his neck.

When a child was born from the union of the warlord and his own sister, the bastard infant was handsome indeed. Sigvald was once the son of a powerful warlord-king, whose dark desires led him to carnal and unnatural acts. 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. 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. 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. 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. 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. 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. 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.