A long story sorry guys! Sivian is a Sleeper agent who found epideromancy through religious flagellation.

Global Level Duke – Brother Sivian.

Sivian lived with his father somewhere in the Italian hill tops until he was 16. The other village boys beat him and laughed at him because his dead mother, a suicide victim, had been accused of witchcraft. His father was no help, for he beat Sivian regularly, seeing the boy as a dark stain left behind by the woman whose ‘devilry’ had ruined his reputation and life. At 16, Sivian hit back for the first and last time, fleeing the village and his father’s bloody corpse in the middle of the night.
The monks at the local monastery found him exhausted in the hills, and took him in. They arranged with local police to drop charges and help Sivian repent his sins through God. Sivian did not realise at the time that monks should not have power over police forces; no, it was not until 5 years later that he was told about the power of the St. Cecilites. Owing the repentance of his soul to the kind but harsh monks, Sivian obeyed their call-to-arms when they asked him to go to Rome to learn about true witchcraft and devilry and how to destroy it.
The monks had taught Sivian, who was now a tall and powerful figure of a man, how to flagellate his sins away. Under the service of St Cecil he beat the sins out of a good many ‘evil wizards’. One day, however, he tracked down an adept who claimed to know who he was. The adept took him into a strange room, where he was confronted with the truth about his mother being a real adept and the irony of his new profession. No matter how much he tried to leave the room he was constantly forced into facing the facts; his mother was an adept, but she was not evil; no, many of the adepts he had slain were in fact just strange people in a strange world, classed as sinners by the Cecilites. Sivian protested that the things they did were ungodly, but finally had to admit that the adepts were not absolute evil. God worked through all men and through the good deeds they did, not who or what they were.
Sivian left the room furious and destructive, letting the anger from his childhood years rain down on his fellow Cecilites, blaming them for the stigma that had been placed on his mother. Ignorance like theirs caused her suicide, caused his father’s anger, caused his suffering. He defended the adept he had been sent to kill, until the last aggressor died. The adept had only one more thing to say:
“You cut your skin each day to cleanse your god-given flesh of evil. Flesh is sacred, Brother, it is not so different from blood, and bone. It is your link to the real Divinity and to your buried family. Do not harm it in vain.”
Sivian wandered the towns for another year, in despair, hunted by the Cecilites and falling deeper into the Underground. When at last he was corned by his hunters, they accused him of knowing and seeing too much. Sivian finally cracked.
“Is that the charge?!!! Not devilry, not sin, but seeing too much?! What kind of men have you all become? Here, take my eyes, I am sick of seeing! The Lord is my shepherd, not man or devil!” And with that he reached into his eye sockets and tore both the soft orbs out, screaming in pain and fury and self pity. When the Cecilites moved to take him down, the Sleepers stepped in.
Sivian awoke in the company of men who called themselves Sleepers, devoted to protecting mankind from adepts and adepts from mankind. Before they could nurse him back to health, however, they saw that the blind monk was healing himself. His fury and anguish flowed through his bones and somehow he knew that the years of flagellation gave him a link to the Divine, just like that man had said, and through that link the Divine healed his broken body, all but the scars of flagellation. He searched within himself and found enough strength even to re-grow his eyes, but chose to keep the lonely sockets as a reminder. The Sleepers insisted that he would need vision where he was going, so he spent his power making two very large eyeballs under the surface of his upper arms, turning the flesh where arm met shoulder into hidden eye lids.
“If I need to see, I shall see. Until then, the Lord is my shepherd.”

Brother Sivian became an agent of the Sleepers, trying to find balance in a world of man-made devils and black-hearted saints. He embraced Epideromancy through ritual self-flagellation. He is bald, but has a thick bunch of piercings on the back of his head from which hang several chains of barbed wire, that constantly cut into his neck, chest and back as he walks. He wears simple clothing such as a monk’s habit, and a dirty off-white cloth tied over his eye sockets. Despite his hulking size he appears as a hunched, helpless blind monk to those who do not know his true prowess.

Summary: Mysterious, devout flagellant.

Personality: Calm and often kind, right up until the shit hits the fan. Despite being very religious, he rarely preaches to others, partly because his job and magic question his faith constantly.

Obsession: (Epideromancy) All flesh is grass, and my body is my garden of eden.

Rage Stimulus: Those who would undo his balance and Demons.
Fear Stimulus: (Helplessness) Exposing Magick.
Noble Stimulus: Doing the Good work.

Wound Points: 80

Body: 70 (80) (Perfectionist)
General Athletics: 40
Struggle: 70
Distracting Physique: 15

Speed: 50 (60) (Fast Paced)
Dodge: 40
Driving: 15
Initiative: 50

Mind: 40 (Single Minded)
General Education: 20
Notice: 30
Conceal: 30

Soul: 80 (Devout)
Charm: 20
Lying: 20
Magick – Epideromancy: 80 (Sivian has no religion soul skill, because Epideromancy is the lens through which he sees his religion now).

Madness
Violence H 4 Violence F 1

Unnatural H 3 Unnatural F 1

Helplessness H 2 Helplessness F 1

Isolation H 1 Isolation F 1

Self H 1 Self F 3

Notes/Items/Magick:
Simple clothing and a staff to aid his blindness (doubling of course as a weapon).
Brother Sivian wears barbed braids that cause a minor charge once day (or more if he flagellates himself).
Sivian is a drifter by nature, moving between inns and Sleeper safehouses. He keeps very few possessions.