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Name: Syvarrus

Race: Eldar

Few have seen his face, because he rarely interacted with other truly sentient species in the galaxy, except in his distant past, and very recently (In terms of his age, anyway.) Those who employ him, or work closely with him, know that he has dark, close-cropped hair, and a distinguishing scar on the bridge of his nose, as well as the tip of his left ear missing. Again, it is rare that he unveils himself, so very few know what he truly looks like, and even that he is an Eldar, a trait that is certainly worth hiding in the remnants of the xenophobic Empire of Man.

Syvarrus is calculating and quiet, more a result of centuries of isolation and lone survival than distaste for his present company, although that is certainly a part of it. You can take the Eldar out of the craftworld, but you can't take the Craftworld out of the Eldar, etc. He harbors many of the old prejudices against the "Monkeigh," despite walking among them (rarely openly, of course.) This has lead many to consider him to be cold, which is not entirely true. As an Eldar outside of his craftworld, Syvarrus has had to learn to manage his intense emotional and psychic sensitivity without the help of other Eldar, or even other living beings. Because of this, there are centuries of intense emotions subdued and buried, and he has been known for the occasional bout of intense emotion, often resulting in hysterical or violent outbursts, though this only occurs in times of extreme stress.

"I am of Alaitoc. Was of Alaitoc. Alaitoc is no more. I was a warrior, following the teachings of Kaela Mensha Khaine. Specifically, I was a member of the Swooping Hawks. I was good at it, if a little too hot-headed. I think I may have had it in me to become an exarch. It wasn't to be. I ended up... disagreeing with the leader of my battle group. It's funny, such a life-changing decision, and I can't even recall what began our little spat. I do recall, however, that what ended it was my blade to the Exarch's midsection. 

 What? Hahah, no, no. I was nothing at the time, no match for an Exarch. He survived, and taught me a thing or two about the ways of the warpath. After taking the beating of my life (and that's truly saying something in my case,) I was exiled. I think I was only spared because I had friends on the seer council. Then again, perhaps it was Cegorach's unknowable will. After all, if I hadn't lost my temper, and been summarily exiled, I would be as dead as the rest of my Alaitoc kin. As it happens, I am the only remaining Eldar from that craftworld. At least to my knowledge, anyway. After my exile, but before my race fell further into ruin, I wandered for a time with a group of Exodites on their planet. I learned much of self-reliance, and the freedom that comes with it from them. When I left that planet it was as a stowaway aboard an Ork vessel, which had come to the planet as part of a Waaagh! raiding party. This was before the Devourer, you see. Orks were still a relatively sentient species, and not the monstrosities you tell your children about to keep them in line. The exodites didn't stand a chance, but they faught hard, and, presumably, died well. I ran, and hid, stowing away aboard the Ork flagship. 

 I killed the Warboss in his sleep. It wasn't long before the Waaagh! began to tear itself apart. Eventually, the flagship, along with what was likely much of the fleet, crashed on a deserted, inhospitable planet. I escaped into the wilds of the world. With the orks warring amongst themselves, they never even noticed me. With only my sword, my wings, and my rifle, I set out into the wilds of that harsh planet. The orks too remained, but neither the local fauna, nor I, intended to allow the green tide to arise on the planet. Some orks would spawn, and I would kill many more. The local wildlife made frequent meals of them as well, but I'd wager my wings that I took out more of them. This became my path, my focus. For what must have been hundreds of years I hunted them, alone. I did take pleasure in this at first. Vengeance for the exodites, I thought. Perhaps I took too much pleasure. I shot for the knees, or the stomach. The most painful places, and I am a very good shot. I think I came close to being lost forever on that planet. I think perhaps I cam close to losing my soul to Her. Something... changed in me though. 

 The killing became less about enjoyment, and more about something else. I killed to preserve the life of the planet that had become my new home. I killed to preserve and protect. In this, I think I found my protection from She who Thirsts. My life became dedicated to a cause. Eventually, every ork on that planet was killed. I don't take the credit for all of them, but guerrilla tactics and near-agelessness make for a terrible foe. Compounded by the fact that these orks were leaderless and warring amongst themselves as well. Still, I do take a certain pride in my accomplishments. I wonder if that planet has been taken by some scourge now...

 Regardless, I remained on that planet. Stranded, for a very long time, until eventually a troupe of Harlequins found me. I don't know how or why. Who can say with that lot? They rescued me, and regaled me with the tales of the centuries I had been away from Alaitoc. They told me of the Devourer, the fall of your God-Emperor, the fall of my people into further weakness. The intrusions of the Dark Gods into the webway. Much had changed, but I found my talents could still be of use, even in this failing galaxy. They loaned me a ship, and I ended up here, working for our mutual employer. If there is to be stability in the Galaxy, then your kind needs to be united again. Perhaps, if I walk the path just so, my actions can seal a new alliance between my kind and yours. Unlikely, I know, but I find it is a comforting thought."

Syvarrus does not consider himself a leader, and works best without clumsy young warriors getting in his way or blowing his cover. Due to this, and the nature of his work, he almost exclusively works alone.

Syvarrus is Gregori's assassin, working exclusively for him, in an extremely discreet manner. He follows the reasoning of the ancient Farseer Eldrad Ulthran, who believed that Humanity should be the shield against the forces of chaos in the galaxy, while the Eldar should strike from behind them, in the safety of their shadow. Syvarrus still thinks that this is possible, which is why he did not join Biel-Tan, as he sees Gregori as a way to re-fortify humanity as the shield and shadow for the Eldar to rally and strike behind.

Personal equipment
Kurnous' Hunting Spear, usually referred to simply as The Spear, is Syvarrus' Long Rifle, psychically grown specifically for his hands, thousands of years ago. To this day, one would be hard-pressed to find a more accurate and deadly sniper rifle. Syvarrus knows the weapon as he knows his own body, indeed the rifle has been with him for so long that he would feel more than naked without it. If he is ever without his spear, something is well and truly wrong.

From his earlier days, before his exile from his craftworld. Kept folded under his other clothes and gear, concealed. Almost exclusively used as a last resort if for some reason a job goes south, or he needs to make a quick escape. Also used occasionally to gain a better vantage point for trickier assassinations or reconnaissance.

Syvarrus' power sword, named after the final sword forged by the deadgod Vaul. Though it's nothing special in terms of power weapons, the blade has seen him through many years, and countless close-calls, and he is quite skilled with it, should the need for melee combat arise. He wields this alongside a basic shuriken pistol in mid-to-close-quarters combat.

Once the emitter is activated, it cloaks the person when they're standing still, or moving slowly. When moving swiftly, however, the emitter makes it seem as if the person explodes into a cloud of thousands of tiny shards that dance and shimmer, obscuring the position of the Eldar within. Holo-field not only confuse the eye, making it impossible to pinpoint the location of the wearer, but they also negate any high-tech sensors, effectively making the Eldar within impossible to spot. It should be noted, however, that unlike the graceless defensive technology of the lesser races, a holo-field emitter offers nothing in the way of actual physical defense, it only offer obfuscation.
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