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Username: Thor665
Character Name: Xull Ulviir’to
Age: Uncertain, though at least 900 years.
Origins: Xull’s origins are cloaked in mystery. But it is not because he is hesitant to speak of them, it is simply because there are some questions as to the truth of many of his tales (since they will often have discrepancies even with each other). What is known for certain is that he is Tubeborn, part of process batch #1029-x7382 of the Dark Ark incubation factory.

He grew up on the streets, like most Tubeborn do. Working odd jobs in factories, fighting for a place in society, killing just to survive. At some point in his past he did something (tales differ from a story of murdering his best friend for the position, winning a duel with four other hopefuls, or simply bribing the Recruitment Master. In any case, he moved up into the ranks of the Kabal of Final Breath.

Service History: Xull’s service history is old and littered with commendations. It is clear in his youth he was a bit of the wild child, trying new things, consorting with the enemy, mixing strategy and pranks with an amused disregard for the consequences. Though some of these tales are quite entertaining, it is hard to get Xull to speak about them too often without muttering commentary about the mistakes of youth and explanation of how he did not properly serve the military focus.

His career seemed to take more focus under the command of the Sybarite Yllanya Tier’seiss. To read the battle reports and commendations from her it was clear in the beginning that she found him a capable, if unruly soldier who treated war more like a game than was to her liking. The reports slowly take on a different focus as they go on over the centuries. He became her right hand in the squad, a solid taskmaster and capable soldier who repeatedly showed his worth and learned the value of command. Xull’s tales of this time seem proud, he recounts his weapon training and mastery of assault tactics. Sybarite Yllanya’s squad was well versed in urban assaults, and often drew point position for many difficult raids, and Xull was often on the front lines of any such action.

Of Yllanya Xull speaks very little. His common remark is that she made his thirst less painful and his path more focused.. He does not care to discuss her much more than this and generally returns to interesting tales of his battles and victories versus various alien foes or odd anecdotes about his times carousing in Commoragh’s various districts or his odd outstanding feud with the Kabal of the Baleful Gaze (whom he derogatorily refers to as Eldarith Subast (artificial Eldar)). There have been a few unfortunate incidents involving him and the Kabal, some have put Xull into the care of a Haemonculous, others have cost the Baleful Gaze some warriors. It is a matter yet to be decided.

Though often cited for his battle prowess, it was not until quite late in his career that he advanced to the Corpser Elite. Most suggest a sad lack of ambition in the man as the fault for this, as he often overlooked promotion to stay within Sybarite Yllanya’s squad.

All that changed on one very fortunate day during a siege of a mon’keigh instillation of no small worth. Archon Zerith himself was there leading the campaign. Sybarite Yllanya’s squad was under heavy fire from a mon’keigh unit and Xull was flanking with his Shredder to put an end to them when he spotted a large unit of mon’keigh assassins moving in towards Archon Zerith’s position. Reporting in to Yllanya he was told in definite terms to see to The General’s safety first. It took him a bit of time to reposition and execute the assassins, their crackling power swords of little use against the barbed monofilament wire that encapsulated them in the trench they were sneaking through. It was somewhat unfortunate that, by the time he returned, his unit had been butchered by an overwhelming press of mon’keigh.

Archon Zerith expressed honor to him for his loyalty and devotion to his orders and promptly rose him to a position in the Corpser Elite, noting that even one not born true could still serve as the finest and most loyal of soldiers.

Specialty: Urban assault and firearms.

Personality: Grouchy, is perhaps the best word to describe Xull. He is somewhat taciturn and grim at almost all times, though occasionally, if he feels relaxed, he can prove to still have tinges of the young wild child that his earliest disciplinary reports indicate he was. He seems to enjoy trying to educate the ‘children’ who serve in the Elite with him, telling them stories and offering his opinions on all sorts of matters…sometimes a bit too much at length, as it is noted he occasionally likes to hear himself talk too much once he gets going.

Appearance: A touch on the short side even for a Kabalite Warrior, there is a gravitas about Xull that makes people look up to him even so. His features are proud, but show faint lines and traces of age creeping in, as though the pull of She Who Thirsts is strong on him. His once black hair is now peppered with gray streaks, and out of combat he walks a touch slowly. Yet his dark eyes glitter with a deep brightness, and in combat he comes alive and moves like a Warrior flush with youth, as though he has some driving purpose in every death he claims. His armor is always kept perfectly polished, the white plates gleaming brightly and every inch of the uniform exactly correct by Kabal standards. The only odd part of his uniform is a small Sybarite insignia worn over his left breast on a silksteel weave. It is worn with age and a corner of it is jagged, as though melted off by a blast of laser fire. Despite his tales about everything else, even with his confused mixing of tales, he never discusses the insignia’s origins.

Equipment: Ghostplate Armour, a Shard Carbine (or Shredder, depending on Ruke’s call), a Splinter Pistol, three plasma grenades, and a detachable curved rifle bayonet.

Quote: “Kids...a century old and already they think they know all there is to know about cutting a man’s throat.”

Example Post: He wasn’t sure if the two other Corpser Elite glanced at him for instruction, or were just glancing at him to verify that he was in position, but Xull had never needed much encouragement in a situation like this.

“There are four mon’keigh in the next room, at least three are armed. I am point, you two cover from the doorway. I’ll cut to the left, that’s your left, if one of you manages to hit me make sure it’s a kill shot, because mine will be. If either of you start shooting at an unarmed target before the others are dead I’ll be discussing it with your commanding officer later. The torture comes after the room is pacified, not before, those are the regs.”

He paused to glance at their squad markings and nodded to himself. Then he took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment, his hand reached up, fingers touching the damaged insignia on his left breast, whispering ‘four more’ quietly to himself, before he raised his shardcabine meaningfully.

“This reminds me of the Raid on Fel-kirk station, that’s why I always clarify which way I’m going when I enter a room,” he noted, “I might show you the scars later if you’re interested. We watched an entire star system burn that day, and if you want to ever see anything half as beautiful you better make sure those rifles are ready – here we go.”

His armored foot snapped up and kicked the door in.

Username: Thor665
Character Name: Kiira’eyl Jaronia
Age: 86
Origins: Kiira’eyl was born noble and true to an old noble family that still wielded respectable power within one of the satellite realms. The House of Jaronia occupied a palatial estate where they were worshipped as gods by their slave chattel and even the tubeborn of the realm knew their place. Kiira was a self-styled goddess of the sky. She enjoyed flying around the realm on her jetbike or even a borrowed skimmer vehicle (indeed, there was an unfortunate incident once with one of the family’s ancient pleasure cruisers…though Kiira insists that the presence of the Mandrakes was assuredly not her fault.)

All was well enough until a rival Archon decided he would be a better caretaker of the realm and began an attack to claim the realm as his own. House Jaronia was almost assuredly doomed until enough plaintive pleading (and a hefty application of wealth and called in favors) brought the Kabal of the Final Breath in as support. Archon Zerith routed the attackers with contemptible ease, and even offered some deep opinions about the lackluster quality of Archon Jaronia’s defenses and soldiers while he allowed his soldiers a decent furlough on Jaronia’s estate (further depleting it of wealth and baubles, as well as a number of retainers and slaves).

Despite this, Jaronia was well impressed by the battle prowess. One of the promises he’d made was to provide a number of men and women to serve as soldiers for century long service periods in the Kabal. Seeking to improve the situation of his own household he sent a number of his children out to the Kabal along with the usual tithe of commoners, figuring if he sent enough of them he’d manage to get a few back with the knowledge he desired.

Service History: Kiira ended up as part of the Corpser Elite through a few odd coincidences and a bit of dumb luck more than any true brilliance on her own part. Young, brash, and haughty, she tended to aggravate most of her commanders. Combined with this was a streak of pride and impulsiveness that had her often volunteer for missions. As a result she was often placed in truly dangerous situations, though it was more of a situation of her skilled Kabal comrades and a bit of odd luck that allowed her to keep coming back from the missions relatively unscathed.

The one thing that she did clearly excel at was piloting though. Her sense of confident invincibility combined with reflexes and hand eye coordination of the highest levels meant that whenever she was placed into a cockpit or behind the controls of some vehicle she was able to perform far beyond any expectations.

Combine a Corpser officer wanting a few pilot specialists and Kiira’s previous officer, desperate to get her out of his unit, and you have one of the youngest members ever to wear the Corpser purple.

Specialty: Piloting skills.

Personality: Speed! Kiira lives a life based on that one word. She talks fast. She makes friends fast. She makes enemies faster. She forgives fast, and attempts to murder fast. She thinks fast, and any waiting around after she has made a decision is time wasted. The faster she’s done with something the faster she can have some fun. She takes drugs to enhance this situation, Jetz, Quiksilver, Hypez, Adrenalight, anything to keep the world moving at the speed she thinks is right. And if someone doesn’t like that, to hell with them! They’re probably commoners not fit to regard one of her fine birth. All commoners are trash anyway, barely better than slaves, really. But mostly Kiira just wants to have fun, and go fast, and not worry about the consequences because she’s planning to be long gone before they catch up.

Appearance: Of average height and slender build, Kiira is still quite young by Dark Eldar standards. She wears her crimson red hair cropped short in back, with a sweep of it flopping down low across her eyes in front. She always wears her ring which bears her family’s crest (and also keeps a hidden shot of drugs in it, just for…emergencies). Her face is attractive, though the features are slightly pinched and the nose perhaps a touch too large (a probable sign of inbreeding, most likely). Her mouth is almost always twisted in a grin, and her red eyes almost always gleam with amusement (or drugs, it may be drugs)

Equipment: Ghostplate Armour, a Splinter Rifle, a Splinter Pistol, three haywire grenades, a retractable wrist blade and a curved sword worn jauntily on her hip.

Quote: “Bored now!”

Example Post: Oh by the Dark Muses…we’ve been here forever. The rest of her Corpser Elite unit were still in some very focused discussion with the Hellion gang leader. It was clear that the Hellion had some useful information she supposed. Or so they’d been told. The mission was important to this situation too, she recalled that. She might have been a little high right then, but then she’d never double-dosed with Hypex before so it had totally been worth it. She was pretty sure the mission involved tracking down some stolen shipment that the Hellions had taken, and then something about neutralizing their threat.

This Hellion Gang Leader was so stupid too with his dumb fang mouth mask and chains hanging off him. *So* passé. Oooh, I’m a Hellion, I like chains and fangs. Yeah, big surprise. The others were still talking to him, but that was a little silly at this stage, wasn’t it?

The only question now was, did she go and take a skyboard for a joyride, or just shoot that Hellion in the corner who kept making lewd faces at her – he was *so* beneath her it was rather insulting he was even trying.

Probably ought to do both, Kissa figured, she’d have time.

Username: Thor665
Character Name: Syndibaar’untax ‘Syntax’ Fill’ithilaryn
Age: 215
Origins: Syntax came up exactly as she’d always planned. Since the day she’d been old enough to conceive of it, she had desired to be part of a Kabal. Not for her was the jaunty flashiness of the Wyches, or the moronic brawling of the gangs, or even the inhuman brutality of the Covens. For her it was always the Kabals, always.

She worked hard, trying to make herself as skilled as possible in the matters of warfare and combat. She would practice with blade and fist. Learn the intricacies of a rifle, dismantling it down to core components, cleaning, and reassembling it. She honed her marksmanship and combat drills, practicing them like an automaton. So it was, when the recruiters came, she stood out as one of the best.

Service History: One of the best, that was what she was, and that was what there was to know of her. It became clear that what she saw lacking in Dark Eldar society was a clear purpose and order. Order, a sharp and cold and clinical order, an order she saw as needed. That was why she had joined the Kabal of the Final Breath. They understood the clinical need of order, order was what would hold back She Who Thirsts who represents Chaos. It was a simple equation, with a simple answer.

That is what problems were to Syntax, just equations to be overcome. She worked hard to make herself useful to the Kabal beyond just being a warrior. Once within the structure she realized that the people who could kill and do nothing else went nowhere. She wanted to go somewhere. It was simple. She studied machines, computers, languages, anything to separate herself from the mass of common rabble. Her focused and meticulous mind lent itself well to languages of many varieties, as well as the coding language of computers, it was here that she found her niche. From needing to hack into a network to disable a planetary defense system to just triangulating where battlefield commander communications were coming from so the Kabal could take out the head, Syntax began to rack up many battle honors.

If it pleased her, it was hard to tell, though she accepted every laurel with a soft nod of her head that just seemed to suggest that she already knew what they were telling her – she was good, and she was needed. Eventually she was promoted into the Corpser Elite, where such focused devotion would unquestionably serve a useful purpose. Syntax is pleased, because it’s another step towards where she needs to be.

Specialty: Programing and maintenance of hardware, also language skills.

Personality: Syntax is distant. She keeps her emotions under odd check, though on rare occasions it is possible to get her to reveal a snap of anger, or a small smirk of amusement. But her cold exterior mask is one of the most important things to her, for she cannot afford to ever let it crack or slip, because to let others see underneath it might allow them a chance to hurt her. Her mask is too difficult to hurt, behind it she is safe.

Appearance: Tall for a Dark Eldar, thin and statuesque, Syntax would be quite desirable if she bothered. She wears no makeup other than occasional smears of grease or sealing liquid from whatever device she was working on earlier, her long, straight, black hair is kept sawed off at her shoulders occasionally a little jagged as she will cut it to remove solvents that landed in it, or snarls on pieces of gear,. She wears no jewelry and her only signature item is a pair of gold rimmed optical enhancing glasses that she wears at all times in case she needs to work on fine computer circuitry.

Equipment: Ghostplate Armour, a Splinter Rifle, a Splinter Pistol, three haywire grenades, a curved dueling knife, her electronic tools.

Quote: “As expected.”

Example Post: “The automated defenses will be down in a few moments,” Syntax announced as she plugged her portable console into the computer station. The other members of the Corpser Elite with her dropped into defensive positions to offer cover as she worked. The hallway they were set to assault down was littered with defensive laser turrets and it would take too long to destroy them all.

“Can you handle this in time?” Asked one.

“It is a rather complex bit of coding, but, as expected, Tau always use very predictable encoding. We’ll be through in a moment.” Syntax’s voice was, as always, devoid of emotion or excitement.

“Good enough.”

In a few more seconds, her hands flying across the keyboard, Syntax nodded in accomplishment. The laser turrets hummed as their barrels lowered into a rest position. The way was now clear. With a roar the Corpser Elite surged forward as one. As they did there was a sudden series of beeps, the las turrets suddenly hummed back to life, turning as one towards Klortos. The close combat expert snarled in confusion as twenty lasers pulsed to life and blasted him to smithereens. The rest of the unit scattered, diving for cover. Even as they did so though the lasers again fell silent, this time with a few sparking snaps as they all overheated.

“Interesting, it must have been an unforeseen security measure. Apparently my countermeasures did burn them out afterwards.” Syntax glanced down at Klortos. “Unfortunate.”

If any of the other Corpser Elite remembered that Klortos had been drunk three nights ago and insulted her they chose to keep that thought to themselves.