Deep in the city of the captive suns, where reason is myth and light dwells no more, a relatively small Kabal known as The Drowned Lament thrived. Among the ranks of it's Kabalite Warriors, young Caedessin proved herself to her siblings above by embarking on ever-bloodier encounters to escalate the power ladder within the Kabal. Of jaded golden eyes and white hair, this ghostly mirage of svelte complexion and white long hair encased in a painful black Kabalite armour prowled the battlefield with the rest of her squad - in and out of cover went the acrobatic Kabalite while her Splinter Rifle sent mists of pain across the air.

Caedessin was the daughter of the Kabal's Archon Lord Fae, and her career was supervised by the best Sybarites and Dracons each step of the way - she was even trained at the used of exotic weaponry. When melee was ensued, Caedessin preferred a Razorflair - a twistedly brilliant weapon made up of several diamond-sharp fragments that could harden together to form a trusty short blade or loosen to form a sadistic long whip.
To envelop her enemies in her Razorflail's embrace was Caedessin's secret pleasure, and she had it down to an art.

Alas... Being merely the third child of her father, Caedessin was paid little attention in her progress by the Archon himself until the cycle came in which her eldest brother was slaughtered in duel with the champion of an opposing Kabal known as The Divided Heart. The balance of power shifted as the shame of such failure threatened the very existence of The Drowned Lament, and the now-eldest daughter of the aging Archon was weak, lacked leadership, and - most importantly - cruelty.
Whispers ran across darkened halls and interests began setting eyes upon young Caedessin, who could very well be new the eldest child... Given that her sister Carsea went missing.

One such cycle both sisters were summoned by their father in the Kabal's amphitheatre - a small elyptical room of high ceiling reigned by a single candelabra. The walls were a myriad tones of washed-down black, the rug beneath, blood-red. Lord Fae sat on a throne that presided over the amphitheatre, and around him was not only his court and his slaves, but also the highest-ranking officers of the Kabal.
Caedessin realized what was to happen in such place as soon as she crossed the velvet veils that obscured it's entryway, as she was in no way deaf to the whispered voices that suggested she took command. Fearful of her own life should she decide to flee in the moment, Caedessin stepped in to the centre, by the side of her sister.

"Caedessin, my dear. As you may know, Carsea is next in line now that your brother has shamed us" started her father. Caedessin took a barely-contained nervous glance at her sister, and Carsea glanced back in awe.

"But your sister is weak" he continued without even looking at Carsea, his eyes locked in those golden of Caedessin.
"I want you to kill her." The words, though expected, fell like a cold dagger in Caedessin's chest, and as her throat began crumbling in and tears threatened to inexplicably escape her, she realized she was being given a Razorflail by her tutor, and another such weapon was being given to Carsea by a slave.

"But my sister doesn't even know how to parry!" Caedessin demanded, the shame of being forced to duel such pathetic match and the impact of the words she just had mentioned let out the torrent of tears that would surely look poorly in the eyes of her soon-to-be officers. Why was she crying? Surely not because of pity! She must have read too many of those Eldar poem stones she once pillaged from a vessel they had raided.
Alas, there was a sentiment, new and alive - pulsing like the gasps of the Sun that fuelled the Citadel gasping for air.

"Kill her, Caedessin!" Shouted her father, the despair in his voice evident. Should Caedessin lack the spite to slay her sister, the Kabal would be doomed.
"No" she replied, throwing her Razorflail to the Archon's feet. Her eyes let out a challenge she regret in the very moment it was issued.

The room fell in utter silence.

A never-ending second after, Sslyth serpents crawled down from the vaulted ceiling and began attacking the officers and slaves around Caedessin beneath the ice-cold stare of the Archon. The massacre was played out in seconds as the unarmed Dark Eldar were torn to pieces by the six-limbed, heavily armed creatures.
With her tutor laid bloody at her feet, Caedessin braced herself to the imminent attack, but instead the sound of a groan, of gasps drowning in a throat full of blood made her turn to where her sister stood moments ago. A Sslyth serpent had drived her Razorflail through Caera's chest.

"Good job, Caedessin" said her father. "I knew you would come to sense. I will inform the Kabal that you have defeated your sister in fair duel. Congratulations."
The Sslyth serpents faded in the shadows once again as the world as Caedessin knew it crumbled around her. She retrieved the weapon that had killed Carsea, and left the room without saying a word.

Her steps quickened as she hurried towards her chambers with both swords in hand, one stained in warm blood. She could not believe that her father would slay all of his officers just to leave no witness to her weakness, neither she could believe that such weakness was hers. She had been so blind - going around with a sense of freedom when in true never in her life had she had a choice. Nothing madsense, the bloodshed lacked a purpose - she lacked a purpose!
A part of her awakened, acknowledging herself as a feeling, sentient being.
She packed only the poem stones she had stolen, those that had slowly told her of a world beyond the obscene and the darkened; she suited herself in her Kabalite Armour, sheathed both scimitars at her hips and took her splinter rifle and pistol. That cycle she would abandon the Dark City, and one day she would return to claim her father's life.

She raced across the corridors of the Archon's palace, and when she had reached a certain spot she vaulted the spiked handrail to land one floor beneath - her private starcraft's landing pad. But just as she landed, words from glossy purple lips with a voice of venom began talking.

"You know if you leave you will be branded as a traitor."

Caedessin turned, a woman dressed in white had been waiting - her father's Lhamaean.
Her voice went on like a purring Elysian cat.
"And sooner than you know you will be in a little cage serving as my pet and toy. Traitors of such position are treated... Specially."
Caedessin took a step back, away from her vessel. She examined every crevice around her to see if someone else had been sent to follow, but she saw no one. Esthirael was a trusted member of her father's court after all, why send someone else to spy on a foolish, witless warrior?
She walked towards the Lhamaean slowly, fixing her eyes upon the poison mistress' figure, golden hungry eyes fixed on those blue and hostile.
When Esthirael figured the Kabalite's intent, Caedessin was at an arm's reach - and no one in the court had ever put attention on the development of the third-born of Lord Eislieth Fae, had they? No one had bothered to notice how good a warrior she had become, or how fast she could slay her victims.

The Lhamaean had put up a fight, but the encounter had only lasted a blink of an eye. Caedessin had avoided the poisoned daggers Esthirael had thrown when Caedessin leapt unsheathing her blades, and sooner than the poison mistress could draw a second batch she had been tangled by Caedessin's razor whips, and decapitated. Her twitching remains laid cold at Caedessin's armoured feet.

How long would it take for someone to find her corpse? She had no time to clean up the mess. How long until someone found out that her star craft was missing? A cycle? Hours? Minutes. She had to leave, now. There was no turning back.

When she reached the docks of Khai-Dazaar, word surely had already spread of her doings, and the Kabal of the Drowned Lament should be hot on her trail. Caedessin had to find a way to get rid of her easily-recognizable starcraft and come up with a hiding place, but - most importantly - she had to find a Waystone. Away from Commorragh and the bloodthirst of her kind, the young Lacerai saw the peril of the Great Enemy as the true threat it was... In all odds she would be dead in a couple of cycles, she would have to take her own life if things went bad - she would not end up a slave of her own siblings.
Caedessin reached for a spot behind the painful armour digging in her skin - her chest - where a living, feeling heart laid still... It was beating.

(Hello community - and hail my kin - this RP is to be my introduction. Now, I already have the general idea of what happens in the future of Caedessin, since she was a character I played with my friends in a modded Rogue Trader. This RP is an idea I came up with to fill up the question as to how Caedessin got a Tear of Isha. Any one of you a ranger with a recent trip to the Eye? Anyone with another plausible reason to be at Khai-Dazaar and have an unused Tear? Whoever joins will also have some impact in the narrative I have with my friends, and I'm excited to see the crossovers! Lastly, thank you for having me and I hope we have a lot of fun!)

[I know so little about the Eldar culture... keeping an eye on this might help me]
[If you at any point in time should need a an "OVERLY OVERPOWRED OVERLORD, and his command barge" to crash the party you just give the word]

(You quite need to know us better - we're bitter enemy buddies, after all! Also, I need someone to jump in with this RP - Dark Eldar, Craftworld Eldar, Rogue Trader, Harlequin, Ranger, Corsair, Maiden-worlder...)

(I have Heard about Rouge trader, but right now i only have time for Dark Heresy, should be a bit like Rouge trader. how ever i do like the Tabletop games... the Eldar Culture has been trickey for me... studying them has taken some of my time but keeping track of my own Culture and some "space marine" history has taken a great part of my time...)

Gruemeneal stood over his table with a knife in one of his arms, a syringe filled with a strange dark purple fluid that shined with an almost unreal light. Under him was a body, a human. It was alive, a slave brought back from a raid. Surrounded by helping wracks, he prepared to disect the still alive...still conscience human. It screamed as Gruemeneal plunged the knife into his chest and tore it open, but keeping him alive all the time. Gruemeneal smiled behind his mask at the delight of tearing it apart.

Once he had finished, he stood back from his work. He went to other work, waiting for any citizens to come to him to make a deal or acquire his aid.

After docking in a neutral pay-to-lad pad, Caedessin made a point of getting as much distance as possible from her extravagant and expensive spacecraft. Across shady alleys and crowded markets, the Kabalite warrior ran through the port-city as a fleeting shadow. Her eyes darted from one shadow to the other, one rooftop to the next - another Eldar of the crowd examined for intent of capture, when suddenly she crashed against piled-up crates medical-looking supplies.
Now, it wasn't often that Eldar bumped into things, since their senses were always so focused, but Caedessin had been overwhelmed by the amount of information she was trying to process at the same time. She stood up, unable to hide her now-overwhelming panic, and she saw the owner of such now-ruined crystalline test tubes and pouring liquids - and the human begging for mercy he was "treating".
This... Wasn't good.

Gruemeneal stopped, he turned around fast, his expression hidden by the mask over his mouth, his spinal cords whipping around like snakes. "What is this disturbance" grumeneal pointed and two large wracks moved across to assess the damage. One of them caught sight of Caedessin, it grabbed her and pulled her towards it's iron masked face. It then pushed her towards Grumeneal and his screaming patient
"What have we here?"

Caedessin didn't make a point of trying to escape the Wrack's grip, as she knew it was no use. Maybe her Kabal's reputations could bail her out of this one, but that could also attract unwanted attention - what if there was already a bounty on her? The lithe figure dressed in full Kabalite armour played the only card she had, and looked straight into the Haemonculi's face with her unmasked gold eyes., trying to play self-importance.
"What you have here is the Drowned Lament's Archon-to-be, so tell your makeshift creature to let go else you want to meet my personal Haemunculi and be his patient!"

The haemonculus stared at this kabalite for a few moments, before waving one of his hands to tell the wrack to let her go. "What brings you here kabalite?" He asked, one of his spinal cords wrapping around the body of the human, now completely gutted and rended, but still alive and crying. "Why come to such a dark place, with so many risks?" He asked pulling the body to the front as he finally ended the creatures cries with a fast snap of its neck. The crack loud and sharp, filling the dark street with an edge

Aida thanked inside the sudden silence when the human was put of it's misery. It allowed for clearer thinking. Now, the mention of risks, did he mean this Khai-Dazaarian street was dangerous or did he know who she was and meant it specifically for her? She had to act natural, she had to act sharp, but - most importantly - she had to show business.

"I am here looking for vacant Eldar Spirit Stones - virgin ones... I believe they call them Tears of Isha. Now, a seasoned haemonculus would know to inflict pain beyond the mere body, maybe you know where I can find the items I need?"