During the first 20 years of the 2nd Century PC, the Dominion continued to expand. The lords of Lamentation poured money and resources into the development of a mighty navy, and by 115PC the Dark Elf Navy was by far the largest on Palurin, and put the little collection of sailing ships in Ravensgart to shame. The Empire's navies stayed within Galamor bay, while the Dominion's crossed the Pan Coron ocean, discovering new lands to the south and west in 117PC and arriving in force at Aquila in 118PC.
The Dark Elves also began exploring the coasts of Palurin, seeking to create safe havens around the world and dominate the sea. They arrived at Basslaer in 113PC and found no inhabitants, or so they thought. Just a year after the first settlement had been established, a daemonic incursion thrust the new conlony into turmoil until Lamentation sent an army to defend them. The army sent defeated the daemons and cast the from the world, allowing the Dark Elves to continue their colonisation.
"...The rocky island of Basslaer is lit by flashes of lightning as the storm crashes against the coast, the flashes of light revealing dark figures clambering ashore over razor-edged rocks. Nimble corsairs direct the landings, the snorting figures of Cold Ones pull against their riders as the heavy cavalry struggle ashore. Crossbowmen hold their weapons tight under cloaks to protect the vulnerable strings from the driving rain.
At the centre of the island, eldritch energies crackle and deep within its pit, the Daemon portal begins to awaken. The rain of the storm evaporates away from the boiling gateway, and with a flash Horrors appear upon the rim of the caldera. They cavort and dance in insane geometries, describing eldritch symbols and calling forth their bloodthirsty kin – Bloodletters, and mighty Juggernaughts, riding from the portal and advancing up the slopes. Slowly, with titanic majesty, the winged form of a Lord of Change emerges from the portal, and its wingbeats urge the Daemon warhost on before it.
Battle is joined on the outer slopes of the rim under the driving rain, a meeting battle with the last Daemons still emerging from the portal and the Dark Elves still landing the remainder of their forces. On the right flank, Seekers of Slaanesh are delayed by a Cold One Chariot but then tear into the soft underbelly of the Dark Elf Army. At the same time, however, the catastrophic charge of Cold One Knights and a fearsome War Hydra crash into the Daemons of the Blood God that hold the left, and these avatars of war are cast back to whence they came. The Lord of Change flaps and attempts to escape, but the force opposing it is too much, and as it struggles to lift off a Cold One Knight lance pierces its breast and banishes it forever.
The Daemon host is broken, and the storm lashes the now-quiescent portal. The Dark Elves lash their slaves forward, and mighty towers begin to rise around the rim of the portal. A gantry is conjured from the stone, reaching out above the centre of the portal. Standing at the tip of the portal, buffeted by storm winds, stands a Sorceress of stunning beauty and terrible power. Within her fist is a curved dagger, and before her is bound the last of the Daemons of Slaanesh. A cry, a flash of power, the dagger falls and the Daemon is cast back into the portal. Those with the witch-sight see the Sorceress trace a path back along the gantry, shrouded by an aura of terrible and unholy power, flowing from the portal and lending vitality to her movements.
The world shudders, and a new power is born in the Dark Elf Dominion..."