When the message made it to the Solitaire, she would cackle lightly, but with a dark and sinister tone that helped perpetuate the fear all living or intelligent creatures had for the position. "Your work is complete, Wych." Reaching into her garments and from an unseen pocket drawing a small bit of folded parchment marked with the rune of Iderhra, she offered it towards the Wych Mistress.
This was a rather quaint method of delivery. The Wych knew what to expect on it, really just coordinates of one of the planets ravished to the point of being helpless along the Dark Angel's crusade route. There they could find souls to torture, bodies to power their abominable machines, and minimal resistance. "Parchment! You mean it was on you the whole time? We could have pried it from your dead hand at any point..."
At that point the mask of the Solitaire would shift somewhat, showing a thousand teeth that vanished into a deep maw, inhuman, uneldar. She answered simply, "No, but it is on the parchment."
The Dark Eldar returned, without incident, to the webway, coordinates in hand, to hunt easier prey.