The craftworld of Alarial was one of the earliest to flee the greater Eldar civilisation, escaping before the rise of Slaanesh destroyed much of that empire. For several millenia the craftworld remained completely untouched by either the chaos gods or the darkness which had consumed so many Eldar. Alarial became a beacon of light and hope, a place of song and celebration open to all peaceful folk. It served as a neutral ground for trade and diplomacy where all were welcome, its artists and performers renowned across countless planets. Beings of almost every race and world wandered the halls of Alarial in peaceful coexistence.

As all things, that couldn't last forever.

Close to a millenium ago a great cataclysm rocked the craftworld. In the blink of an eye the ship was torn asunder, all but a tiny fraction vanishing into the warp. Countless lives were lost, thousands more perishing as the remnants of the craftworld ploughed aimlessly into the surface of a nearby world.

Believing the disaster to have been an accident caused by a failure in one or more webway devices, tearing the craftworld apart and hurling it into the warp, the Eldar of Alarial have never given up hope that some or all of their missing Craftworld and kin might have survived. In the long centuries since they have tirelessly sought sign or evidence.
Many of the survivors took to the path of the outcast, wandering far and wide.

In recent years rumours arose of a derelict hulk drifting aimlessly from a warpstorm. Following them, Rangers from Alarial came across a wreck, its shape all too familiar. A shattered section of their once great craftworld hung in empty space. Far from the joyous reuinion they'd expected, though, what they found crushed the Alarians. Broken, ruined figures wandered the corridors and hallways of the dead craftworld, scarred and tortured beyond recognition. Corpses littered the walls and hung from trophy racks, foul symbols carved and slathered in blood on every surface. Everywhere was the unmistakeable evidence that their lost brethren had been the playthings of the Eldars' dark kin.
Though most of those tortured soul they found aboard the wreck were lost to madness, a scant few retained a glint of their former selves.
From them the Alarians gleaned a hint of the terrible truth; no accident had befallen their craftworld, but a deliberate act of sabotage by the Dark Eldar. For eight centuries their friends and families had been the playthings of the Dark Eldar, and countless thousands more still remained captive.
As one, the Eldar of Alarial abandoned their peaceful paths. Their kin will be reclaimed, the foul creatures who torment them will be destroyed.