Editing Nobledark Imperium Notable Planets (section)

=== Féin-Cineál ===

Féin-Cineál Was a craftworld in the loosest sense of the world that existed in it's earliest incarnation a few centuries prior to The Fall and therefore had the not entirely unique distinction of being one of the ones not hastily spurned on by the warnings and predictions of a much younger Eldred Ulthuran. Indeed it was started under the more managed and carefully considered opinion of several dozen more puritan captains of the Old Empire banding together to save their family, friends, crew and their family and friends or at least those of them that would listen. The captains now longs since dead originally banded together purely out of a need for protection as in those later years of the Empire eldar had turned on eldar in cannibalistic orgies of torture, murder and rape in any order thereof.
 
The ships flew in close formation daring the warp as the web-way was no longer considered safe from their own people for their own people. Forty-nine of them besides the flagship of the most prominent Matriarch, Di'theatha of the family Mygranath slayer of deamons, savior of the people and mother of the one who would be The Betrayer or so the legends claim.
 
The ships in time found a quiet patch of space in what would one day be the southern end of the Segmentum Pacificus and there they dealt in splendid solitude amongst the stars as behind them the Empire they had left behind was devoured in the fires of it's own depravities and a monster was born reflecting those obscenely degenerate indulgences magnified to a degree that was as terrible as it was magnificent. There was no going back or hope that the kin and kind left behind had hope of salvation.
 
In time the ships of the flotilla moved closer and closer together as the people mingled and wished for closeness. Scaffolds and walkways were in time extended across from one ship to another to facilitate the ease by which the peoples could travel and for a time all was well among the Féin-Cineál, a name they adopted that itself looked inwards to family and friends. But such times of peace were short lived as war came to the Féin-Cineáli in the form of what they would once have considered their own kind driven mad and ravenous of spirit demanding flesh tribute or all would be consumed, greenskined brutes once considered a minor irritant were now a real threat. In this time the hero Achillrial arose and gained prominence.
 
Achillrial was always claimed to be the first of the Autarchs although this claim is hotly disputed by the other craftworlds. What is not disputed was his mastery of war. In person he was a great warrior, tall and strong and fast. His stamina was seemingly without end and his courage was fathomless. But it was not in contests of personal force that he was most accomplished, away from the front lines he was far more devestarting. He saw war as a dance and knew the moves well for every song that was ever sung, without fault or misstep he would direct forces to the killing blow from directions his adversaries could not anticipate and a hundred times his weight of warriors were brought to ruin. But of it he cared little. Indeed he was a hero and a creator of heros, his name was legend and he created legends but that was not where his heart found joy. In family and in simple pleasures he found joy, in the music he had no skill for and the artistry he could not emulate he found joy. War to him was not as it was in his youth, fighting for some idealized and false image of an Empire he never really understood, war was a job and it was not a passion.
 
Achillrial knew little of true passion, of lust and desire or love. In many ways he was innocent and almost childlike despite being a creature of red raw battle. In time he did came to know love and that love was returned by the eldest of fair Di'theatha's many fair daughters remembered now only as The Betrayer, a name now cursed above all other. But in those days she was not cursed, corruption was not rotting in her heart and soul and she was beautiful and wonderful and pure. Achillrial and The Betrayer it is said in The Chronicle of the  Féin-Cineál had a love like no other, as pure and sweet as the first rain on the lost homeworld in the days the gods walked among them. The Betrayer was everything that Achillrial was not and everything that he loved, she had walked the paths of the singer and the artist and the painter and the poet. She was everything that he loved and everything that he was not and maybe he was the same to her. It would be easy to image her as feigning love to get close to naive Achillrial but in those days in her way she was as innocent as he was, hard as it is to imagine now.
 
For all that Féin-Cineál preferred it's own company to that of the galaxy at large it was not cut off and it was not ignorant of the changes beyond their carfully defended walls. They knew of their kind on other craftworlds and had some limited dealings with them and they knew about the young Imperium growing into the anarchy and ruin left by the passing of their own once great realm, like children stepping into the footprints left by an ancient primordial giant. But they knew the Imperium in those ancient days as outsiders and aliens picking over the ruins of the dead and looked not upon them until they rescued the All-Mother and brought much rejoicing.
 
The Betrayer was one that moved more willing than most about the galaxy in search of inspiration for her works, and they were wonderful works full of new things and new beauty. But always she was unsatisfied with her work Achillrial would tell her that even in the greatest days of the Old Empire perfection was never achieved and that by some strange joke of fate she had come closer to achieving what the eldest of their kind in those great days had not only here in this time beyond ruination. She would laugh and tell him that they looked in the wrong place.
 
It was never known when she fell from grace, if indeed a single event could even be attributed to it, The Beast arose that her corruption became evident. Féin-Cineál had so far refused to involve themselves. And why should they not abstain from such a war? It was nothing to do with them, they had survived The Fall by staying out of other peoples business, why should this war be any different? But one night The Betrayer came to Achillrial and held him close and as he looked into her eyes he knew that something was wrong. There was a fire there that he had not seen before and it was not a warming or a comforting flame. The Betrayer told him of the thing she had seen in her time wandering among the far places, of their kin and kind who yet lived upon the homeworld, how it was not foul but fair too behold and magnificent. The Old Empire though diminished was not some abode of monsters and the damned but a place of beuty beyond imagining. What dear departed mother Di'theatha and her generation had fled from was the birth pains of a fair queen being born, a new goddess that had not devoured and destroyed the old pantheon but assimilated and absorbed into the Many-Gods-As-One. It was a beauty greater than the sum of it’s parts, loveliness beyond mortal comprehension or understanding.
 
Achillrial’s heart was broken at these word and he could not offer her the response his love turned to sorrow demanded and he could not strike her down as the law demanded. He was now without joy and all he had was turned to ashes and regret as he ran through his memories in an instant trying to find the point where it all went wrong, where he had been blinded by love so completely to not see the darkness in her heart. He turned away from her, his head bowed low with sorrow and bitter tears running down his cheeks and bid her to leave and never return. In a fit of rage The Betrayer slashed his throat open and fled but not in a final act of spite crushing his soul-stone so that in death if not in life he could know the new goddess of her people.
 
The Betrayer fled the craftworld before any had realized her treachery and when they had a great mourning was had that turned to a righteous wroth among the people and the demand of blood-price. The Betrayer’s name as stricken from The Chronicle, an act never before or since enacted, and the Féin-Cineáli decided that for hate’s sake they would go to war.
 
With the deaths of both Achillrial and Di'theatha, one by treachery and one by time, it was seen as an omen and in the post-Beast galaxy and with the marriage of The Steward and the All-Mother the people of Féin-Cineál decided that indeed it was time to rejoin the galaxy. Their short-lived and rather minor existence as a craftworld had taught them that it is not so great to be alone, the vessels of Féin-Cineál disbanded and the Féin-Cineáli dispersed to set up homes and enclaves on the worlds of this new Imperium that their All-Mother had blessed with her rule. In the wake of The Beast and his Croneworlder allies the people of these worlds were less than thrilled to see more eldar but with the promise of their ships to patrol their orbits they saw the advantage and made room for them in the rebuilding, of which the Féin-Cineáli were of some considerable assistance.
 
Today the Féin-Cineáli remain a close knit web of families spread across many worlds of the southern Segmentum Pacficus, united by a shared heritage and culture and recorded in the records of The Chronicle, the living record of all their stories. They are maybe not the most well known of the eldar peoples, they are maybe not the strongest of the most brilliant but they are what they are and to those that know them they are most often friends and with their friends they march into the coming Judgment Day to rebirth or ruin and they march with fire in their hearts and heads held high.