Battle of Tor Dranil

Sailing under the pall of sorcerous night, the Dark Elves invaded the Shadowlands, capturing the Salvation Isles and the Sundered Strand. Riven by division within the Phoenix King's court, the High Elves were slow to respond at first. Only when Finubar turned maters over to his closest advisor was an army despatched, with command shared equally between the princes Eldyr and Tyrion.

So it was that the High Elves came to the Sundered Strand to find it fortified against them. The subsequent Battle of Tor Dranil seemed a certain and crushing defeat for the High Elves, rescued from disaster only when Eldyr and his overmatched bodyguard stubbornly held the line when almost all others had fled. Eldyr fell that day, his chariot broken to matchwood, his body sliced almost apart by the cruel draichs of Har Ganeth's Executioners. Tyrion -- even then fighting for his life against a triad of Khainite Assassins -- saw him fall and flew into a rage.

Letting out a mournful battle cry, Tyrion cast down his assailants and spurred his steed Malhandir to the site where Eldyr had fallen. Left and right he hacked until Sunfang was bloody to the hilt, driving Executioners from the fallen prince. As Tyrion forged on, a new resolves filled army, a hope of victory born from the darkest of hours. Onwards came the hunters of Chrace, arrows spent but swords ready. Onwards came the Swordmasters of Hoeth, blades a blur in the wan sunlight as they severed limbs and cut crossbow bolts from the air. The ground thundered a galloping hooves as the lances of Silver Helms splintered shields to find their marks behind.

In a matter of moments, the tide of the battle had turned, yet one great deed remained before the fighting was done. Kolhir Bleakheart, counted amongst the deadliest of all Naggaroth's Assassins, had waited patiently as the battle unfolded. As Tyrion drew near, Bleakheart cast off his cloak and lunged forward, poisoned blades aimed for the prince's heart. So sudden and silent was Bleakheart's approach that Tyrion did not notice his peril until the moment before the daggers struck. Yet in that moment, a single bowstring sang, the beauty and power of the note a clarion above the din of battle. As Bleakheart's lifeless form flew back into the Dark Elf ranks, Tyrion traced the arrow's path, seeking to catch a glimpse of his savior. There, on the cliffs above, a glimmer of silver visible beneath a grey hood. Then, teh archer turned and was gone, leaving Tyrion to claim a great victory and mourn his fallen friend.

Source
pg. 30
 * Warhammer Armies: High Elves (8th Edition)