Name: Laeveyla. No surname given, but when one must use something more formal, she usually goes by 'the Wanderer.'
Age: 232 years. This makes her rather young by Eldar standards.
Gender: Female
Race: Craftworld Aeldari
Appearance: Laeveyla is a tall, proud figure no matter where she finds herself. Having spent several decades in human space, the elf has adopted the clothing of the mon'keighs she works beside; outside of combat she wears a frilled blouse and waistcoat, a double-breasted jacket, tight-fitting trousers and flamboyantly buckled boots, whereas her combat dress features the far more practical mesh armour and Felarch helmet, the only real embellishment being its gold-streaked paintjob and the long bright scarlet scarf wrapped around her neck and hanging down just short of the jets of her jump pack.
Underneath all of her fanciful wear, she is fairly typical for an Aeldari specimen. Six foot eleven tall, as thin as a whip, with piercing blue eyes and long, expertly tamed blonde hair, her appearance would cut a path through any dour craftworld's population, which is indeed exactly what she has designed it for. She is never seen without her curving, scimitar-like power sword and, as is common for felarchs, a fusion pistol rather than the normal shuriken. It is rare she takes her shuriken catapult into battle, preferring the more personal touch she can deliver with her other equipment, but, needs must when the dark prince drives.
Personality: Like most corsairs that hail from craftworlds, Laeveyla is what most eldar would call a 'wayward soul.' Driven by a desire to see the galaxy, slash throats and consort with all kinds of foreign races, the eldar delights in breaking taboos and trying new things, something that puts her uncomfortably close to toppling off the knife's edge that all unfallen members of her race must walk.
Relationship to the Dynasty: Laeveyla has journeyed with the Falcon-Cooks for some twenty years; a relatively insignificant time for her, but long enough for most members of the family to have met her at least once, especially with her unusual status as a xenos working freely as an Imperial mercenary.
History: Laeveyla never knew the true glory of her craftworld; her parents fought as guardians to protect their home of Biel-Tan, and by the time she had grown into anything resembling an adult Aeldar her craftworld was shattered and her peoples were splintered into a fleet, rather than a singular, great craft. As a child she grew up being told of the winter her people were enduring, but through how force and dedication, their spring could come again.
Laeveyla never really believed that. Although she walked the paths of her people; studying the ways of the dreamer and the mariner, and then under the warrior as a howling banshee, she still felt restrained. True, it was this last role that suited her best, but still something was missing, and rather than peruse it further and risk losing herself and becoming an Exarch, she instead took a very different route; her and several other young Aeldari collectively took a single vessel from Biel-Tan's great fleet and departed, joining with a corsair band that had stopped with their people for resupply and to return soul stones.
It was here that she found her true home. The freedom of the life of a corsair; the ability to indulge in violence or temper it, to let herself laugh and dance and kill and take seemed much more natural to her than the rigid paths she had strode before, where she had had to temper herself to make sure she never went too far; felt too many emotions. She knew that she had to temper herself, and so far has walked the knife-edge successfully, never toppling over into the abyss of the dark prince. Yet still here, something was amiss, and she finally realised what it was when their corsair band communicated with a powerful mon'keigh fleet lead by a 'Rogue Trader.' He offered vast riches and a plentiful share of loot to any that would work for him, but the Corsair Prince of her fleet instructed that none join.
She, viewing this as a pointless imposition to be shed, took a different route. As her felarch slept she pressed his soul stone into his chest and slit his throat, making sure her brethren would find his soul and keep it safe even as she took his helmet and weaponry, leaving their craft in a lifeboat that docked with the mon'keigh ship soon after. The 'Rogue Trader' was delighted, and she has now worked with their family for close to thirty years, enjoying more privileges than she ever did with her own kind, albeit with far more suspicion.
Skills:
- Swashbuckling Fighter: A dab hand with a sword and a fusion pistol and more than happy to use them against any foolish enough to oppose her, Laeveyla has probably killed more men than you've had hot dinners. Or, so she claims, anyway.
- Aeldarin Grace: Like all of her race, Laeveyla is, to humans at least, superhumanly fast and agile, capable of weaving between bullets and cutting down a man from ten paces away before he can blink.
- Psychically Attuned: Laeveyla is particularly sensitive to the winds of the Warp. Although no Warlock, her innate capabilities are useful in other ways; a split second's foresight, a tighter bond with her mesh armour and a healthy respect for the things that don't come from this side of the galaxy can all let a lone xenos survive for longer. Trust her; you don't want to see what happens when a corsair warlock loses control of their powers.
- Scrappy Survivor: A corsair is already expected to have a general skillset that makes them useful on spacefaring craft, but corsairs that hire themselves out as mercenaries must have all of this and the ability to survive without any of their fellows in Imperial space for decades at a time. Any that survives their first dozen or so years usually has a good variety of mechanical and medical skills to keep themselves alive and in good condition.
Equipment:
- Fusion pistol
- Shuriken catapult
- Power sword
- Mesh armour
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