Editing Nobledark Imperium Notable People (section)

== Lynn Mywin ==

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Lynn Mywin was born to the eldar of Féin-Cineál in or about the year 620 of the 41st Millennium and the youngest child of her immediate family. Both her parents were loving parents advancing into their fourth millennium when they had her, both having been married several times before and both having had many children with previous partners and each other, her half-siblings all counted both living and dead Lynn Mywin was in fact the youngest of almost three hundred children and felt that her chances of ever living up to their combined legacy was not remotely achievable. The eldar of Féin-Cineál are known for having large families and putting emphasis on the family as the basic measure of civilization but her family was excessive and was eventually declared a clan of it's own, something historically seldom achieved whilst in the lifetime of the progenitors.
 
The vast majority of the Mywin family were loyal, productive and morally upstanding citizens that any craftworld would be proud to call their own. True none of them were great movers and shakers of note but typically they did their jobs diligently and competently and seldom showed up in police records. Having so many contributing members of the family and so little of those to detriment ensured the family's prosperity and that prosperity was shared among it's members rather than hoarded in a treasury. There were black sheep to the family, with so many how could their not be, but their transgressions were minor things typically made of bad judgements rather than outright malice.


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Lynn Mywin was a more willful black sheep. Mywins typically got jobs of a solid and tangible nature, indeed the patriarch Athafan was a shipwright and bonesinger and the matriarch Rhyangaala was a meteorologist. Lynn Mywin did not pursue sensible paths. Throughout her childhood and adolescence she had dabbled with the paths of the artist and the paths of the poet, both paths taken by The Betrayer. It might have been that these were a childish little rebellion against her somewhat overcaring parents, many in the family believed that she was shown a lot more tolerance for such foolishness than they had been and it was time for some good Mywin sense to be slapped into her. But Lynn was the last child Athafan and Rhyangaala could have together and they knew it and they found that they couldn't scold her too harshly. They regretted spoiling the child by sparing the rod when Lynn's first official path was a path of the Musician and the full range of interests shared by The Betrayer was complete.
 
Rhyangaala and Athafan pondered this deeply and meditated on the subject with heavy hearts but the stories of The Chronicle that dealt wit The Betrayer they couldn't see in their little girl. The Betrayer was a foul thing whereas little Mywin with ribbons in her hair and a moonlyre in her hands was as innocent as the music she made, and the music she made promised to one day be beautiful as her aptitudes were not insignificant. But, as the rest of the family pointed out, The Betrayer was innocent once upon a time. In her fifty-fifth year, the age of full maturity among the Féin-Cineáli, Lynn Mywin was fifteen years down her Path of Music and had been asked to perform at a minor function for the governor of Leigh-2, the world her particular enclave called home. This was the last straw for her parents, they knew that such encouragement would push their daughter down the path of vanity and if she wasn't like The Betrayer now she would be one day. They ordered her away to the military to serve in the PDF of Leigh-2 and maybe even be transferred to the Guard should she prove worthy and therefore far away from dishonest temptations. This was devastating to the young Lynn Mywin.
 
By the strange chance or the blessings of a trickster god that night the Enclave was visited by Inquisitor Silas Hand who was in need of information found within the enclave's copy of The Chronicle. Normal procedure for an outsider to see The Chronicle required the authorization of the head of one of the clans, a meeting of the five most prominent clans and the presence of three witnesses, typically the head farseer, the head autarch and the head spiritseer. All of this would take time and Inquisitor Hand was hunting swift prey. The black sheep of the Mywin had long ago memorized her father's access codes and lead the Inquisitor to vaulted hall in which The Chronicle was kept. Inquisitor Hand quickly found the information he needed, the resting place of a Rogue Trader once who visited the Féin-Cineáli in many thousands of years past and that the possessed prison-artifact in question had not been passed on to some unsuspecting heir but was dragged with him into the grave on some frozen world now buried uder a hundred foot of glacial ice. Silas Hand, scarred and weathered, decided that for a short time the galaxy could survive without him having to patch it up and took a day off for the first time in years. Lynn's parents, her entire huge and extended family and every other eldar of any station in the enclave were quite angry with her blatant disregard for procedure and they were not very subtle or tactful in expressing their considerable ire even after Lynn pointed out that it was the duty of all good Imperial citizens to aid the Inquisition. In truth the others of her kind and kin who knew her knew that she hadn't acted with noble intentions but merely to cause mischief and in truth they weren't as wrong as she knew and would claim.
 
In a moment of rebellion, ill timed or fortuitous bleeding together, the young Mywin approached the Inquisitor on the hour of his departure and asked that she could join him and his motley band of hard-bitten agents. Inquisitor hand was himself not without a sense of mischief and we can only guess of his motives. Maybe he thought a few weeks away from soft beds and warm foods would teach her a much needed lesson, maybe he saw something of himself much younger in her eyes or maybe he saw something of genuine worth. All that is known is that when Hand left Lynn was with him turning her back on kin and clan and enclave and weeping parents who were distraught believing that at the finish they had failed; their daughter now walked a path of darkness far from home and hearth and the love of family. Despair gripped them and held them for a long time, sorrows upon sorrow for the little girl they believed they had driven away.
 
A hundred years or there about Lynn Mywin did return. She did not skip and dance as the innocent near-child she had been when she left. He hands and skin were not maiden soft. Her eyes were not the eyes of an artist. Now she was a woman of the Inquisition, she walked with a swagger and the confident stride not borne of childish ignorance but a proven hardness. Her skin was scarred and tough boot leather. Her eyes were the eyes of a musician beyond the judgment of potential percussion offered by the average boot to skull. A century of having the shit kicked out of her had cost her her innocence but she did not miss it in the slightest and in it's place had grown if not wisdom then a degree of highly refined cunning that was almost as good. Her parent's, once the shock had worn off, were beyond joy to see her not just alive but uncorrupted. Her was her daughter, they would proudly declare, working for the Inquisition.
 
In the years since Lynn Mywin has been from hubworlds to the galactic fringes, she has stood on distant Old Earth and Cadia and a thousand other worlds. She has served many masters, hunted many foes, saved countless millions if not billions, taken many trophies, taken may lovers, done work in the shadows that would turn the stomach of lesser people and dragged such horrors into the light of day for judgment. In the Inquisition her reputation is as checkered as her tattoo collection due to her "creative" interpretation of orders and occasional bouts of convenient deafness. She will never be an Inquisitor she has been told in no uncertain terms as she lacks the temperament and holy shit will she be the first to tell you that but she never really wanted to be.
 
Of the Féin-Cineáli? They are at one and the same immensely proud of her and deeply ashamed. On the one hand she is an agent of the Inquisition and a damn good one. On the other hand she is Apostate. She has forsaken the Paths and risks walking the road of perpetual torment, she stands upon the edge of the abyss and looks down into the maelstrom of riling, twisting madness of emotions left unchecked. Such worries, she would claim, are in vein. She has her duty in place of a Path. She might live loud, live hard, take lovers as she wants them, drink when she's thirsty, eat when hungry, fight when angry and follow her heart and gut as much as her head but when the chips are down she can show a focus that would make an Exarch proud.
 
Some wonder still if she is still truly Féin-Cineáli; she typically wears a grubby vest several sizes too big, pants cut out of an inner layer of a broken space suit, a beret, catachan boots and a set of ident-tags. Her weapons are a big Catachan Cutta' Knife, and a much repaired laser rifle of unusual make. For all the world she looks like a low-pay mercenary culled from the underhive of some impoverished core world but questions of her membership of the Féin-Cineáli is not asked when she is present, entertaining the youth with tales of daring do and strange adventures on distant worlds despite the improper influence this is considered on impressionable young minds. Two considerations of this, her family, and her parents in particular, are fiercely protective of her name and they might all follow into Exile over choosing to stay and the loss isn't worth one delinquent eldars expulsion. The other is that many of them, the better connected of the matriarchs and patriarchs, have heard about the things that she has done and are absolutely sure that none of their bodyguards and champions could save them from her ire should she turn it upon them in retaliation.
 
As for Lynn Mywin herself? She doesn't think about it too much. In the years since her fateful meeting with Old Man Hand she has seen much, met many strange and interesting people, killed a lot of them. If she is exiled they will have to enforce it and she knows that none of them are stupid enough to try it and the once that are aren't capable enough. But for now the Imperium is under threat and she knows she must do her small part to end those threats, as all good citizens should to the best of their abilities.

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