Battle of Iyanden - Iyanden Rescue: With the Ynnari and their Ulthwé allies fighting together as one, the Aeldari tore apart the tightening noose the Slaaneshi daemons had cast around them. Their strike forces ﬂowed like fast-running streams through the ruins and dust dunes of the shattered Aeldari city, capitalising on their gains before the daemonic hosts could cut them off.Yvraine led the charge, her regalia billowing behind her in the ethereal winds as she sprinted through shattered arches and under statues of fallen heroes. Towards the giant Memorial Hall of Atransis she ran, a vast museum-like structure where the works of the pre-Fall Aeldari were once displayed as the foremost treasures of the universe.With Ulthwé's close assault specialists forming a wall of blades on either ﬂank, the Ynnari vanguard plunged inside the enormous hall, seeking a defensible position from which they could repel the Slaaneshi soul hunt from a narrow frontage. Within those walls, they were to find far more than simple tactical advantage.As the Reborn took up positions on the sweeping ramps and daises of the hall's interior, the building was gradually ﬂooded with golden yellow light. Two immense structures at the back of the hallway shook dust from their slab-like facias as they opened, unfurling jerkily like the wings of a butterﬂy fresh from its chrysalis.A glowing yellow rune-portal was revealed within, immense yet visible only to the dead -- or those that bore their blessing. Massive as the secret portal was, the figure that emerged from within was so tall it still had to stoop to fit through.A rune-emblazoned Wraithknight in proud yellow and blue heraldry glided out from the ancient portal, two more of the immense Ghost Warriors in its wake. Long-barrelled Suncannons thrummed loudly in the stillness. A shout of triumph rose up from the Ynnari as the giants opened fre, blast after blast of intense plasma energy shooting from the entranceway of the hall.Wherever they struck, the daemons tumbling through the hall's entrance to capture the escaping Eldar were annihilated. Everywhere a new hunting pack of Slaaneshi creatures appeared, a killing volley of energy scoured them from existence. When a knot of Seeker Chariots of Slaanesh careened through the ranks of the Ulthwé Eldar, blood ﬂying from bladed wheels, one of the Wraithknights stepped forward and smashed them to scattering shrapnel with a sweeping blow from its massive blade.Yvraine was the first to notice the smaller figures at the giants' feet. The fabled constructs of Craftworld Iyanden had arrived, already spreading out to form a protective wall around the Ynnari. Amongst them was none other than Iyanna Arienal, the Angel of Iyanden.At the Spiritseer's instruction, the Ghost Warriors formed a loose circle that spread out through their living comrades, then locked in tight. The wraithbone bulwark allowed every living Eldar through without resistance, yet hurled back their daemon pursuers with volleys of firepower and methodical bladework.Many of the faceless warriors gave their lives to ensure their living kin could escape. Iyanna beckoned the Ynnari into the golden portal. Realising that to stay was to die, Yvraine ordered the retreat. Group by group the Reborn dashed into the secret spar of the Webway beyond.Perilous indeed were the hidden paths that the Iyandeni used to reach the Crone Worlds and gather their Waystone bounty. The Ynnari were led by not only the most gifted Spiritseer of her generation, however, but also the Masque of the Midnight Sorrow.Though it took long solar weeks of arduous travel, they found the second of the golden portals without serious incident -- a gateway that led them to a hidden Webway portal of Craftworld Iyanden within its Vaidh Wayport.Iyanna Arienal presented the Bonesinger's seal of her dynasty to a dozen runic locks, sang in a lilting soprano the lineage of Eldanesh, and projected her psyche into the spirit reservoirs beyond each gate until they opened soundlessly one by one.The expedition passed through into the chilly, mist-wreathed catacombs of the Craftworld's Ghost Halls. Each alcove, once occupied by the inert shell of an inactive Ghost Warrior, was empty. There were sounds of distant thunder high above -- the Visarch cocked his head, and loosened his great blade in its knotted scabbard. These were not the sounds of a tempest, but the din of ongoing battle.Yvraine felt hope and despair in equal measure. They had found safety, just as it looked like they would be overwhelmed completely, and better yet, their rescuers were numbered amongst those Craftworlders they sought to bring to Ynnead's cause. In dying and being Reborn within the domain of the ancient Aeldari, the Yncarne had claimed the shape-changing Sword of Souls from within the soil of Belial IV.Yet the Ynnari had found only one of the two blades of power they sought from Belial IV before they had been forced to ﬂee. Without all five of the Croneswords, Ynnead's power would be significantly lessened. Worse still, the fifth and final sword Yvraine had expected to find upon Iyanden was missing, its psychic spoor nowhere to be found.This was because, unknown to the Ynnari, the last Cronesword was no longer on Belial IV. Slaanesh had freed its Keeper of Secrets Shalaxi Hellbane from the Palace of Punishments in the Realm of Chaos and ordered it to prevent the awakening of Ynnead and foil the plans of the Ynnari.The daemon travelled to Belial IV and stole the fifth Cronesword before the Ynnari could claim it, placing it far from the reach of the servants of Ynnead in the Palace of Slaanesh. Unknown to Ynnead's high priestess, the Seventh Way already seemed an impossible quest to complete.The Angel of Iyanden, the Spiritseer Iyanna, had a series of impassioned exchanges with Yvraine as they gained the winding steps to the Craftworld's well-lit interior. The world-ship was under siege once more. As it had passed through the Endregan Sector, a Warp Storm that had seemed distant one night was alarmingly close the next.From within that empyric tempest had come a pair of vast rotten Space Hulks, each a cadaverous mass of metal and rock so pitted with age it had not a single straight line nor smooth contour upon it. The runic divinations of the Farseers had shown the immense composite ships to be infested with daemonic life-forms, just as a bloated corpse is infested with maggots.Vast swarms of Rot Flies, each led by a pinioned Daemon Prince, had ﬂown from the repulsive space detritus towards Iyanden upon membranous wings. With the Warp Storm propelling them, and with no need to breathe, they had descended upon Iyanden in their thousands.Yvraine had a hollow feeling it was no accident that Iyanden was assailed by daemon invaders just as she and her Ynnari had sought safe haven there, but she kept her peace on the matter.To a craftworld that counted the dead as the most numerous of its defenders, the message of Ynnead's awakening was a delicate enough matter already."Our fate is that of Omethrian, it seems," said Iyanna Arienal, as she and Yvaine strode across the Bridge of Endless Night. "To be torn apart anew by carrion crows each time our wounds begin to heal." Overhead, just visible through the thin crystal of the Aldanari Dome, the explosions of fleet warfare lit the void."Did Omethrian not wish to die under the Red Moon," said Yvraine, "thereby ending his torment, and being reborn anew?""If you seek to extinguish what is left of Iyanden's ﬂame, you will find your welcome short indeed," said Iyanna. "I have sung the songs of Ynnead myself, for many long years. Truly I believe all our destinies are held within his net. But first we will take a grievous toll upon those who wish to hound us to our deaths. That does not involve succumbing to some horrid infestation, nor wasting away in apathy and despair.""Well said," murmured the Visarch as he walked behind them. Yvraine started in surprise at her companion breaking his silence, but said nothing. As the Eldar reached the end of the bridge and made for the war council beyond, a dozen Wraithguard blocked their path, a robed Farseer in their midst."Dhentiln Firesight," Iyanna whispered. "He will not risk the Ghost Halls coming to our side, not now." She turned to Yvraine, eyes alight. "Whatever happens, we shall make Ynnead proud to call us his daughters." Yvraine nodded, emotions thick in her throat."I bid you welcome," called out Dhentiln, "but sadly your timing is more that of crippled Vaul than deft Asuryan. With the armada fully engaged, Iyanden cannot afford distraction, lest we inadvertently open our gates to the enemy once more. You and your followers have travelled far -- even Faolchú the Messenger folded its wings at day's end. You must rest."At this he gestured at a distant quarter of the great dome, ill-lit and still. "We will escort you and your fellow Commorrites to a guarded haven, to ensure minimum disruption. Those of your host that wear craftworld colours, or the motley of Cegorach, will be dispersed to fight upon the front line. We dearly need their blades.""That measure is not necessary,’ said Yvraine, her tone ice cold. "My people will stay and fight as one.""But I insist," said the Farseer. Behind him, the Wraithguard lifted their weapons. In the middle distance, bipedal war walkers emerged from behind the curving architecture of the War Council's chambers, their guns reinforcing the deadly message."Very well," said Yvraine. "We will not raise our blades against you on this dark day. If you wish to snuff out the ﬂame your people once held so dear, we shall be there to light it once more."The Wraithguard closed around the Ynnari commanders, and led them away into the gloom. High above, the thunder of war rumbled ever louder like the laughter of distant gods.Within solar minutes of leaving the Bridge of Endless Night, Yvraine, the Visarch, the core of the Ynnari, and Iyanna Arienal were involuntary guests in Iyanden's most sumptuous halls. Their every need was catered for, white-robed Eldar adolescents on the Path of the Servant offering refreshment and even cleaning their war gear of the Crone World's dust.Still the truth was obvious to all. The Reborn, those who believed Ynnead to be the saviour the Aeldari so desperately needed, had been incarcerated against their will. Battle in the stars high above still raged between Iyanden's armada and the daemon-infested Space Hulks that drifted, slow but unstoppable, towards them.Yvraine felt a slow-burning rage build within her breast, but she tamped it down. The way of Khaine would not release her from this; neither the Ynnari nor the Iyandeni could afford a civil war.Instead, she had to reach inside herself, deeper than ever before, and let the conduit between all living things channel her soul. Outward she cast her essence, ever outward, her mind's eye reaching towards one star after another.That which she sought was not there.On the outer surface of Iyanden, elephantine Rot Flies buzzed and swarmed, their pot-bellied plague riders smearing filth upon crystal domes that had felt only the kiss of solar winds. A trio of Nurgle Daemon Princes alighted nearby, talons screeching gouges in the transparent domes. With rusted maces and wrought-iron blades they hammered the crystal over and over until they had forced open an entrance.The thin bubbles of atmosphere that surrounded the dome-like nodes, fashioned to prevent the insides of the world-ships being sucked out into space in the event of a meteor swarm or other cosmic accident, gave the daemons the shelter they needed to wriggle and crawl within.Through these apertures the winged Plague Drones of Nurgle gained entry into the craftworld, descending upon the elegant forests and sculpture gardens in a hideous greenish-brown cloud. They were swiftly intercepted by several shrines of Swooping Hawks that ﬂitted, lasers blasting, just out of reach. The winged Aspect Warriors were swiftly joined by squadrons of Crimson Hunters, streaks of deep red scarring the air as they hunted the fat-bellied Daemon Princes that befouled their home.The Bright Lances of their Nightwing Interceptors struck over and over, each unerringly accurate shot blasting streams of viscera from the chests and abdomens of the ﬂeshy intruders. Garulgor the Virulent plummeted lifeless from the skies, but both Duke Oglorr and Maleathrus of the Foetid Claw descended towards the Eldar homelands below as if unconcerned by their injuries, chortling with glee as their innards drizzled filth across the lands below.The Crimson Hunters performed tight loop the loops and came in again, this time aiming for the heads of their prey. With the Swooping Hawks thickening their fire, even the daemon lords could not shrug off the intensity of their punishment. Oglorr and Maleathrus fell like stones to explode in showers of filth upon the alabaster ﬂagstones below.The daemon riders assailing Iyanden's forests did not get far, for they were contained and quarantined by unliving hosts of Ghost Warriors. Yet the invasion was really only just beginning. In the firmament high above, the twin space hulks that had emerged from the Warp Storm drifted ever closer.Though the daemons embattled upon Iyanden's surface were outmatched ten times over, the same could be said of Iyanden's armada. Each of the space hulks that faced them was truly immense, a composite monstrosity formed of abandoned spaceships, space debris and asteroids the size of small moons.Many of the voidcraft that jutted from the space hulks' ﬂanks had active gun batteries that sent punishing broadsides towards the Eldar craft that harassed them from afar. The spacecraft of the armada were nimble enough to simply evade any solid munitions, but not every weapon used by the hulks was so conventional.When thousands of winged drones ﬂew silently across the dark reaches of space to latch on to the solar sails of the Eldar ships, gnawing away at them like moths devouring silken finery, the Eldar vessels found themselves slowing to a crawl.Again the hulks opened fire, this time to full effect. So widespread and devastating were their volleys that they caught several Iyanden voidcraft amidships and destroyed them completely.Sequestered in her guest quarters, Yvraine reached out once more with her psychic powers. She could feel the deathly energies of the Iyanden armada's demise even in her confinement. This time she was rewarded.Beyond it was a thin ﬂare of intent, a soul-sign coming from the allies she had sent ahead when Ynnead frst arose. It was the psyspoor of Thraelle Longblade, Captain of the Mansbane. She peered through the crystal skylights of her quarters, hoping to see a glint in the stars, and gave the psychic signal.The Eldar Corsairs who knew Yvraine as Amharoc in Commorragh emerged from a field of stellar debris, their ships hidden from plain sight by Holo-Fields and Mimic Engines.Pulsar Lance batteries, Keel Torpedoes, Phantom Lances and Leech Engines took their toll on the nearby hulk. Under sustained barrage, the engine bay Plasma Reactors at the hulk's rear detonated with spectacular force. As a new star burned in the firmament, Yvraine allowed herself a tight smile.