(GM asked me to post this here and get an opinion. So thoughts about my sheet?)
A gloved hand, pushes down a button on an old, beat down but still working Imperial Vox-Caller, its Machine Spirit awakening and ready to record whatever its user intends. "This is the First...log, if one could call it. Ashra Myruk, former Bonesinger of Craftworld Il-Kathe. Its been around thirty-five celestial passings, since I have been on this Path. One filled, with hardship, pain, death and more hatred. Anybody holding this, can throw it off into space - if they expect to hear some Eldar secrets, from this. Rather its a log... of my journey; you spend so much time away from other Eldar and amongst the other Xeno races, you gradually pick up some of their stuff. Be they as primitive, as a many those 'Flight-borne' call them - they can be said to be tough and less prone to their arrogance than us."
"One may think, what is an Eldar doing with an Imperial...repeater...thing. No, I hadn't killed or butchered mon'keigh civilians to get it. I might be a 'xeno-witch' as some are eager to spout, but I am not some Chaos-murdering demon. In simplest terms, I had...traded this. One makes do, with what options they have - seeing as I am barred from any Craftworld, for pain of death. Why you ask?"
There is a moment of silence, where grumblings of 'going crazy' and 'stupid mon'keigh cultures', before the smoothed being' voice returned. "In simplest terms, I was banished. Why? I killed another? Ha. That might be the oldest joke in the galaxy, seeing as everything is killing anything. Rather, we Eldar in all our pride - had cometh with a truth, if an Eldar slayed another, in the wrong state of mind or emotion - they can be branded Fallen. What is this? Basically, stating your likely to get possessed or influenced by a demon - and your asked to leave. That or you get shot, and thrown out into space. And since, an Eldar' death - without an Infinity Circuit is the equal of being thrown into eternal damnation."
"As such, I have been forced to walk the 'Path of the Fallen'. I am denied access to any Craftworld - no afterlife, no hope and no future. Being as such, I had two options for the rest of my enlightened existence. Join another group, or go to Comorragh. Incase your wondering, its the home of the Dark Eldar. Yes. There are TWO factions of Eldar - you brainless, dogmatic-##¤-"
"-back to the issue. For me, it was a sentence of torture and death. So naturally, leaving me with only one option. By terms of another group, it meant joining a non-Eldar group. Seeing as the Path of Fallen, came also with a nifty psychic mark - that told all other Eldar in the vicinity 'you were bad, stay away from her. Kill her, if she tries to get close'. Fun, eh? Finding another group of skilled people, was easy. Finding one, that didn't have that primitive belief of - me equal kill, was slightly harder."
"I eventually founded a like-minded group. Although, by that - I meant they were as brain-dead crazy as a Dark Eldar torturer. Often times you wonder, that 'they' rule the galaxy and are still in existence. By the Fall, how had our Ancestors fallen, so easily?"
"Initial contact, was...rude. Although, talking had been an option before guns were pulled. Namely, some had commented I passed as one of...'them'. How do they expect, my permex pale skin, long black hair and silver eyes to pass one of...them animals? Suffice to say, it returned to the usual degree between eachother. Until I calmed down...my fault on that. Yes, not all of my kind - are 'arrogant, genocidal, heretical witches' - as one human said it mildly."
"After, the calm came - talks were open. They were crazy enough, not to ask or expect too much - their ideals of the Dead Ruler on the Throne; was less ingrained then I expected. A bonus, since they were willing to accept me into their group. Namely it was my skill, as a Bonesinger - that likely got me accepted, without getting burned alive in my sleep. Not many race, could create tools or weapons, from the very air itself. I mostly create, simple things among this group - since I am not stupid enough, to arm any mon'keigh or rar'kar with a Shuriken Cannon. Yet even a simply civilian, harvester-tool appeared, like one of their 'Lord-Blessed' items or something. Likely because, their lacking tech has a habit of blowing up or turning against its owner - which is always a slight, humorous scene."
"Nowadays, its mostly living with these pack of lunatics. I haven't kept much - seeing as I couldn't store it anywhere, I couldn't carry it. I still have my Shuriken Pistol - one of the first things, I learned to create and perfect. Later, as I was banished, I created a rifle for myself. It mimicked, those used by Outcasts. Eldar who have chosen to leave, yet have the opportunity to return later. It seemed fitting, since I left..."
"There is always, the idea of changing my appearance or my suit - to something more 'local' to better blend in, with my surrounding. Albeit, nothing in the entire sector, could hope to match the comfort, adaptability or protective capability of my black Irenian Armor. Most think, us Eldar wear all the same armor...typical ignorance. Oh, need to finish this here...another incident, I hear coming. And I have no wish, of being burned or blown up, by an idiot human, playing with his weapon."