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Warhammer 40,000: Discussione Generalis VI - Robotic Priests Edition

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https://www.warhammer-community.com/2018/03/22/breaking-news-major-revealsgw-homepage-post-1/

Adepticon just happened, and with it major news.

Some of them here:

  • Codex Imperial Knights, Harlequin and Deathwatch announced (Full-sized, not supplements)
  • New Imperial Knight models
  • Combat Roster, a new official 40K website to help players, will be online
  • New Army for Age of Sigmar: Idoneth Deepki. AKA, Sea Aelves
  • New Legions of Nagash models that looks like a Pokémon
  • Age of Sigmar Trading Card Game announced
  • New Event Exclusive Miniatures
Oh, and one more thing...

Fortune favours the faithful
Fortune favours the faithful

It's real. It's happening.
 
Today has been a good day for Tabletop fans.

Azzy, do you realize that with Codices that were previously only Supplements becoming full-sized, we are very likely to get a full-size Black Legion Codex down the line?
 
He literally is. The Emperor's Gift described Daemon Angron as towering over Bloodthirsters and being the height of a Warhound Titan.
 
Also, forgot to post the trailer for the new Knights:

Revealed Imperial Knights
Revealed Imperial Knights

The cheesy Live Action is glorious.
 
Matthew Schroeder said:
Meh. Repetitive melody, needlessly sexual lyrics, bland outfit. The Ynnari Idol is vastly superior.
~ The Lord Regent, Roboute Guillima​
Click to expand...
Robby would know ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
 
So, let's start.

Deathless. Relentless. Incapable of doubt. The Necrons march, intent upon reconquering a galaxy that was once shackled to their will. Aeons of long sleep have broken down the dynasties, eroding them to the point of madness and beyond, but still they are death incarnate ― woe to those who resist their claims to dominion, for they will be reduced to atoms and scattered upon the wind.
What an opening line.

On countless planets, legions of metallic warriors march forth from ancient vaults and into the cold radiance of fading suns. Those of other races with the misfortune to have made their homes upon these worlds are annihilated in storms of gauss fire and particle beams, for even the Necrons' most basic weaponry can strip a body to its constituent atoms in seconds.
The fires of battle glint from dense metal alloy and iron cabling, for the Necrons are not mere creatures of flesh and blood. Bullets ricochet from their impervious hides, las-blasts leave scorch marks but cause no lasting damage. Even those Necrons blasted to pieces by heavy weaponry slowly piece themselves back together, their reanimation protocols seeing decapitated heads reattach to necks and disembodied limbs crawl across the ravaged soil to reunite with their torsos. It is a shocking sight, to witness those thought slain stand up and take bloody revenge on their would-be killers. Such cold and unremitting destruction is the fate of all who oppose the Necrons' advance. In the eyes of the phaerons and Overlords, the young races are simply the dust that has gathered between the cracks of their empire ― and, like dust, they must be swept away
Even the most basic of Necron weapons can reduce their foes to their constituent atoms. And the flesh of even the lowliest Necron warrior is immune to bullets and las-fire, and they can reform and re-attach lost limbs and decapitated heads.

With the C'tan and the Necrons fighting as one, the Old Ones were now doomed to defeat. Glutted on the life force of the Necrontyr, the empowered C'tan were near unstoppable, and unleashed forces beyond comprehension. Planets were razed, suns extinguished and whole systems devoured by black holes called into being by the reality-warping powers of the star gods. Necron legions finally broached the webway and assailed the Old Ones in every corner of the galaxy. They brought under siege the fortresses of the Old Ones' allies, harvesting the life force of the defenders to feed their masters. Ultimately, beset by the implacable advance of the C'tan and the calamitous warp-spawned perils they had themselves mistakenly released, the Old Ones were defeated once and for all.
TFW this used to be the most impressive C'tan feat.

In their arrogance, the C'tan did not realize their danger until it was too late. The Necrons focused the unimaginable energies of the living universe into weapons too powerful for even the C'tan to endure. Alas, the C'tan were immortal star-spawn, part of the fundamental fabric of actuality and impossible to destroy entirely. So was each C'tan instead sundered into thousands of fragments. Yet this was sufficient to the Silent King's goals. Indeed, he had known the C'tan's utter annihilation to be unachievable and had drawn his plans accordingly: each C'tan Shard was bound securely within the extra-dimensional space of a tesseract labyrinth, unable to escape.
C'tan Immortality. They cannot be killed, as they are a part of the fundamental fabric of reality, and so were only split into countless shards.

Nephrekh Dynasty
The masters of the Nephrekh Dynasty seek not to reverse biotransference and become bodies of flesh and blood, but to transform into creatures of pure light. The Nephrekh's recent attempts to pierce the darkness of the Cicatrix Maledictum and extend the range of their translocation beams by utilising immense celestial engines have been impeded by the Thousand Sons ― the Sons of Magnus seek to claim these wonders as their own.
The Nephrekh Dynasty seek to become beings of pure light and energy.

Thokt Dynasty
The Thokt Dynasty has staked its claim in the wilderness of the Segmentum Pacificus for good reason. By harnessing the energies of the void rifts that surround its coreworlds, the Thokt not only give themselves a near-limitless source of energy, but also surround themselves with such a potent aura of baleful radiation that those living creatures near them swiftly weaken, sicken and ultimately die.
The Thokt Dynasty harness the energies of the very void of space around their worlds, and thus obtaining a near-limitless power source. This also gifts them an aura of baleful radiation.

Mephrit Dynasty
The Mephrit Dynasty has no phaeron to govern it, for their crownworld was lost to a Hrud infestation during the Great Sleep. Many of its Overlords now compete for prominence, hoping to establish the position of phaeron. Masters of star-killing weaponry, the Mephrit have recently turned these destructive technologies upon their hated foes, the Aeldari, burning the life from several Exodite worlds and claiming the ashen remains as their own. Craftworlds Alaitoc and Saim-Hann have united in an attempt to push back the Mephrit's relentless advance.
The Mephrit Dynasty are masters of star-killing weapons, and have emploeyed their technologies to burn away numerous worlds.

What the Imperium cannot know is that, should the Necrons ever fully wake and unite, they would face a foe as numerous as themselves. For now, the galaxy has had but a taste of the dynasties' destructive potential, and it is fortunate for their foes that the Necrons remain divided by madness and conflicting agendas. However, these are but the first stumbling steps of a giant as it gathers pace, and even now powerful leaders like Anrakyr the Traveller, Imotekh the Stormlord and the Silent King are uniting their people under a common cause.
... This is insane. It is implying that the total number of Necrons is comparable to that of the humans.

The master of a tomb world will rely upon his Warriors, Immortals and Tomb Blades to be the hard edge of his will, whereas Lychguard and Deathmarks are specialists used more sparingly, and only against those considered worthy of their attention. By contrast, potent machines of destruction such as the Monolith and Doomsday Ark are reserved for wars of annihilation or extreme enemy resistance, where their prodigious firepower can sweep away their foes in a blaze of matter-tearing energy.
Beneath a phaeron's teeming ranks of soldiery and forbidding techno-armoury are the auxiliaries ― those more akin to allies than true warriors of the dynasty. Counted among these are the Destroyer Cults and Flayed One packs. Largely untrustworthy and often dangerously insane, Destroyers are tolerated only for the havoc they wreak in battle. Likewise, Flayed Ones are a curse that seems to follow the legions to war, regardless of whether they are called upon or not. Finally, below even these twisted misfits of the Necron Empire are the shackled shards of the C'tan. In spite of their world-splitting powers, it gives the phaerons great pleasure to know that the star gods are lesser in status than even the least of their slaves.
The technological firepower of the Necron race: Ranging from weapons that fire pure energy that tears away matter, to the world-splitting power of C'tan Shards.

Imotekh himself understands that the enemies of the Sautekh are many and powerful ― perhaps too many to defeat with force of arms alone. As such, the master strategist uses other weapons to bring the galaxy under his control. As he sweeps across the stars, a shadow of terror passes before him; the worlds he plans to conquer are wracked by violent storms and scorched by unnatural lightning. Armies that march out to meet the Stormlord disappear into his shadow, and so the legend of terror grows.
The strange technologies employed by Imotekh the Stormlord. His forces can provoke violent storms across worlds and scorch their surfaces with unnatural lightning, and the armies that challenge him disappear into his shadow, whatever that means.

Mephrit Dynasty
The Solar Reapers
The Mephrit Dynasty has a history of star-killing grandeur and a talent for annihilation through fire. Though much of their glory has been lost, they are still able to harness and deploy extremely powerful energies.
The Mephrit Dynasty continue to be described as wielding star-killing technologies.

Pitiless planet killers, the Mephrit were the solar executioners of the War in Heaven. Stars withered and died under the meticulous attention of their Crypteks, while their phaerons condemned entire systems to death through hyper-accelerated supernovae. Often, it would be the legions of the Mephrit that the Silent King summoned when a race or planet proved especially defiant, as the dynasty had proved its talent for extermination time and again. Many of the other phaerons considered the Mephrit's methods excessive or distasteful by the ancient codes of warfare. Yet the dynasty's victories spoke for themselves, and they swiftly rose in power and prominence. Unfortunately, the slow march of the aeons and the Great Sleep has left the Mephrit's splendour faded and tattered. The world-rending weapons for which they were once famous are lost to the void or fallen into disrepair, while many of their coreworlds are no more. Perhaps most disastrous of all for the Mephrit was the loss of their phaeron, Khyrek the Eternal, who was obliterated along with the dynasty's crownworld by Aeldari assassins. In the power vacuum left by their master's demise, many of the Mephrit's Overlords cling to the past, but there are those who look to future conquests. Among them, Zarathusa the Ineffable gazes upon the ruins of his system and covets the power he once wielded. Guiding his legions, he has set off on a crusade of reclamation. Soon, the galaxy will learn to fear the Mephrit as it did in days of old.
Detailed description of the Mephrit's Technologies. During the War in Heaven, their Crypteks could make stards wither and die, and they wielded the technology to cause hyper-accelerated supernovae. Unfortunately, many of their weapons have broken or been lost during the Necrons' 60,000,000 year long slumber.

The Mephrit's mastery of exotic energies is boldly displayed in the ranks of their soldiery; the captive light of suns burns within all of the weapons they unleash upon their foes, making the Mephrit instantly recognisable.
Even the baseline soldiers of the Mephrit wield weapons that fire the imprisoned light of suns.

Nephrekh Dynasty
The Bringers of Daw
The Nephrekh are a dynasty consumed with showing their mastery over light itself. Their metal bodies can be converted to beams of pure energy, becoming one with the stars.
An entire dynasty with mastery over stable mass-energy conversion.

The trinary suns of the Nephrekh crownworld glow golden upon the mantles of its legions. Rich in the solar wealth of scores of systems, the Nephrekh's worlds cluster around a dense concentration of stars, their radiant brilliance filling the skies with a near-limitless supply of energy. From this golden chalice of flame the Nephrekh drink deep, channelling its forces into translocation beams so powerful they can lead their armies from one system to another at the speed of light.
The Nephrekh Dynasty harness the power of the star cluster around their world, and can transport themselves from system to system in their cluster at the speed of light.

Phaeron Sylphek, like so many others, emerged from his long hyperstasis within his crownworld with his personality degraded to the edge of madness. He has become consumed by an obsession with the stars themselves, announcing to his bemused court that he wished to drape himself in their molten glory. To placate their lord, the Crypteks of the Nephrekh crafted Sylphek a skin of living metagold that can turn to pure light through advanced hyperalchemical processes ― the phaeron has since seen himself as a celestial deity given bodily form. The 'golden form' is a gift Sylphek has since shared with his trusted servants. The dynasty's high-ranking Overlords can be temporarily transformed into living light, while even the lowliest Nephrekh warriors can activate traces of metagold within their metal bodies in order to shift and stutter across open ground at frightening speed. The secret to making this process permanent yet eludes the Nephrekh, but they have bent their formidable resources towards solving the conundrum.
The Nephrekh Phaeron, Sylphek, can converted his body into pure light, appearing as a golden deity to his people. And even the lowliest Nephrekh warrior can convert their metal bodies into pure energy and move at the speed of light.

Greatest among the dynasty's treasures is the Yyth Seer ― the preserved head of an alien prophet who was the last of its race. Using neurographic resonators to peer into the prophet's mind, the Overlords have witnessed the future of their race. It has to be a future of unavoidable conflict, for the Nihilakh are gathering their legions for war.
They can see the future! Yeah, get in line, kid.

The Novokh Dynasty has found a rising star in the form of Overlord Galmakh, the Moon Killer. Galmakh gained considerable fame before the Great Sleep with his tactic of destroying moons, thereby disrupting the gravity of worlds that defied him. At the heart of Galmakh's armies is the Crimson God, a C'tan Shard enslaved by the Novokh Dynasty millennia ago. The shard is commanded at all times by the redoubtable Overlord known as the Crimson King. An unwilling vassal, the C'tan drifts ominously across the battlefield, meting out destruction with its incredible powers, but never quite in the way that the Crimson King would wish for.
Recent wars have seen the Novokh Dynasty ranged against the anarchic might of the greenskins, whose ceaseless rampage across the stars poses a dire threat to the Novokh's crownworld of Dhol VI. More than one Warboss has been utterly erased from existence by the Crimson God, leaving the Orks utterly baffled as they try to recall who it was they were following into battle mere moments ago.
The Novokh Dynasty holds the technology to destroy moons, and possesses a C'tan Shard known as the Crimson God, who possesses the power to erase beings from existence so thoroughly that all memories of them vanish from the minds of others.

The shifting void rifts of the Hyrakii Deeps hide the coreworlds of the Thokt Dynasty. These planets orbit the massive Meghoshta crownworld in a stately dance across the aeons, and smaller, heavily weaponised planetoids orbit them in turn. Wreathed in sparking blue energy, the crystalline continent-tombs of the Thokt Dynasty feed upon the radioactive power of the void rifts that surround them, the sky overhead thick with rippling darkness and flickering blue comets. As their armies emerge from their stasis-crypts to bring death to their foes, dull metal skulls reflect the cold sapphire stars far above.
Deeper explanation on how the Thokt harness the power of the void-rifts around them.

Thanatos Besieged
Heretic Astartes of the Word Bearers Legion descend in force upon the tomb world of Thanatos. Defended by the mighty legions of the Oruscar Dynasty, this world contains an incredible treasure ― the Celestial Orrery. Were the zealot brethren of the Word Bearers to acquire the Orrery's power the consequences would be unthinkable. So begins a bloody, long-running siege, Necron Warriors and Immortals battling across the mountainous high-gravity surface of Thanatos against roaring Daemon Engines and fanatical Word Bearers. The conflict ends only when reinforcements from the Kardenath Dynasty arrive and crush the Word Bearers between their legions and those of the Oruscari. The war, however, does not finish there, for the Kardenath nobility are pursuing their own omnicidal campaign of destruction, and desire access to the Celestial Orrery to see it completed. When Oruscar's Phaeron Hakmephet refuses, Thanatos is reduced to a battleground once again, this time seeing Necron pitted against Necron in a grinding siege that shows no signs of ending.
Both the Word Bearers' Legion and the Kardenath Dynasty want access to the Celestial Orrery so they can nuke the galaxy. Thank the Emperor that the weapon is in the hands of one of the most relatively peaceful Necrons.

The Triumphant Return of Thaszar the Invincible
The shadow-shrouded world of Athonos is wracked by severe earth tremors. The cause remains a mystery until a colossal tomb ship captained by the Pirate King, Thaszar the Invincible, emerges from beneath the ground, shedding soil, rock and fragments of hab-block from its hull as it rises. The world's defences are, understandably, in disarray. Fortunately for the inhabitants, Thaszar has yet to realise that humans are an intelligent form of life, and pays no more attention to the panicked defenders than he would to a nest of insects. The Athonosian planetary capital lies in ruins, but the rest of the planet survives relatively unscathed as the tomb ship heads into the stars towards the tomb world of Zapennec, pausing only to obliterate a holo-stealthed Aeldari listening post hidden in near orbit. Upon reaching the tomb world, Thaszar manipulates the master program into believing him the planet's rightful phaeron. Seizing control of the world and all its awakened warriors, Thaszar restyles Zapennec as the Reaveworld, transforming it into a mighty pirate stronghold. His underlings gather ships from the large belt of orbital wreckage left by the last great space battle of the War in Heaven, and the raiding begins in earnest.
Necron Pirate gives no *****. Also his spaceship causes Earthquakes around the whole world as it crawls from beneath the ground, and the world' defenses are so ineffective against it that he doesn't even realize he's being attacked.

Sanctuary 101
The armies of the Sautekh Dynasty continue their relentless advance across the Vidar Sector, sweeping into Imperial space at last. Imotekh the Stormlord leads an attack against the fortress convent on Sanctuary 101. The Sisters of Battle within fight like lions, doing all they can to preserve a lasting record of this previously unknown threat. They are raised in the Emperor's sight as a result, living on in the legends of their order. Yet for all their defiance they are slain, their pict-captures revealing little more than blurred and stalking shadows.
A hint of what happens when you are defeated by Imotekh.

Mass Abductions
The Imperial world of Mandal begins to experience frequent night-time raids by wings of Night Scythes. Entire farming communities are snatched up in the dark, whole townships disappearing without trace. Unbeknownst to the planet's defenders, the source of the trouble is the small moon of Trantis, a Necron way-station that has awoken and ― following ancient directives ― begun to stockpile Mandal's resources for redistribution to other worlds. Ironically, Trantis' dolmen gate has long been severed from the webway, leaving the moon drowning in accumulated wealth for which it has no use. Yet still the raids continue…
Top ******* kek.

More to come...
 
The Fall of Hypnoth
Imotekh's campaigns are halted briefly by the Imperium's resolute defence of forge world Hypnoth. Astra Militarum and Space Marine reinforcements flood into the battle zone, and though they cannot achieve a lasting victory, they succeed in tying down the Necron assault for several months. Encouraged by the prophecies of the astromancer Orikan the Diviner, Imotekh finally breaks the stalemate by launching a series of attacks on Hypnoth's supply worlds, Praedis-Zeta and Nyx. The first two raids perform entirely as expected, with the planets laid waste and their vital supplies claimed by the Sautekh forces. However, an unforeseen Tyranid infestation on Nyx wreaks havoc amongst the Necron forces and threatens to derail Imotekh's entire campaign. The Stormlord weaves a strategy that manipulates the Tyranid swarm into attacking the remaining Imperial defenders, allowing Imotekh to extricate his remaining forces and continue on his campaign. Meanwhile, Sautekh Crypteks succeed in introducing a mechanophage into the defence systems of Hypnoth, reducing its formidably armed bastions to helpless ferrocrete shells. Despite a valorous defence by Space Marines of the Flesh Tearers and Iron Hands Chapters, Hypnoth is conquered.
Imotekh's armies not only burn away the surfaces of two planets, but also manage to control and redirect the movement of a Tyranid Swarm, and utilize "mechanophages" to reduce the planetary defense systems of a world into useless shells.

The Twisted Catacombs
In retaliation for the attack upon the Threefold Engels, the Ordo Xenos dispatches a Deathwatch Kill Team to destroy Moebius, the crownworld of the Nekthyst Dynasty. So tangled is the maze of hyperspace corridors that make up this shadowed world, the Deathwatch battle-brothers are soon divided and hopelessly lost. Only one brother escapes alive, a Space Wolf by the name of Ranulf Longstriker, but he has been rendered hopelessly insane by his experiences.
A Necron world turns out to actually be a tangled maze of hyperspace corridors.

Broken Faith
Anrakyr the Traveller attacks the Imperial shrine world of Saintspyre. So stout are this world's defences and so easily has it seen off previous invaders that it is believed throughout the system that the Emperor himself protects it. The Traveller will prove this claim false. Anrakyr's Crypteks have confirmed that the tomb complex at the shrine world's heart is cold and dead, plundered many centuries ago by the ignorant human settlers. Accordingly, the Traveller is here to exact a terrible revenge. Using his tomb ships as a shield to ward off the planet's fleet, Anrakyr fights his way through to the greatest of Saintspyre's orbital fortresses, the Blade Imperium. Waves of Night Scythes scream around the fortress' sprawling hull, beaming rank upon rank of attackers onto its armoured
hide. Impervious to the dangers of hard vacuum, Anrakyr's Pyrrhian Eternals blast their way into the Blade Imperium, venting the fortress' atmosphere at a dozen key points. Hundreds of luckless humans are flung screaming into the void, Necron Immortals striding dispassionately down corridors splattered with the frozen remains of decompressed Imperial troopers. As Anrakyr himself makes his way into the fortress, the surviving garrison stage a final fight back, but in a bloody, one-sided gun battle across the Primus Concordium, the Necrons make short work of their assailants. Anrakyr now strikes the killing blow, channelling his furious will into the mighty weapon systems of the Blade Imperium and discharging its cyclopean batteries at the planet below. The bombardment is so horrifically destructive that it shatters the planet's crust and breaches its core, condemning Saintspyre to a slow and fiery death.

As Anrakyr departs the doomed world, morale throughout the system collapses, beginning a chain reaction that will sweep an entire segmentum with panic. After this day, Necron attacks will hold a new terror for the people of the Imperium, for if even the shield of the Emperor cannot hold this foe at bay, what chance does Humanity stand?
Necrons take revenge on a ruined Tomb World that had long been colonized by the Imperium and turned into a Shrine / Fortress World. The world's fleets and orbital defenses, which had so easily crushed all other foes that had tried to destroy them are utterly insufficient against the Necron Tomb Ships, which in turn crack open the planet's largest and greatest Orbital Fortress. Then, the Cryptek uses his technopathy to take control over the fortresses' weapons, and unleashes them onto the planet blow, which cracks and explodes.

The world had access to orbital defense fortress that wielded planet-busting weaponry, and yet could not destroy the ships of the Necrons.

The Beast Slai
The T'au sept world of Uan'voss is almost overrun by a sudden onslaught of Tyranids, only to be rescued by the most unlikely of saviours. Several legions of Necrons from the Atun Dynasty fall upon the swarming bio-horrors, their Monoliths and Annihilation Barges laying down a crippling bombardment of fire while a spearhead of Triarch Praetorians cut their way deep into the monstrous horde. Though the swarm fights back with the fury of a wounded beast, the Tyranids are caught between the attacking Necrons and the firepower of the surviving T'au. As the last chitinous horrors crash down dead, the entire Necron army turns on its collective heel and departs without a word of explanation. The bewildered T'au can do little but give thanks for their mysterious rescue, little knowing they have just witnessed the servants of the Silent King.
Szarekh is the best person.

An Unforgivable Theft
Illuminor Szeras leads warriors of the Sautekh Dynasty in an attack upon the Imperial world of Gorszt, destroying a fortress complex belonging to the Mentors Space Marine Chapter. As his prize, Szeras claims the entire stock of precious gene-seed that lies hidden beneath the fortress.
Necron Marines when?

Vengeance at Damnos
Twenty-five years after the Necrons drove the Imperium from Damnos, Marneus Calgar returns at the head of a massive force of Ultramarines, Astra Militarum and Deathwatch Kill Teams. The Damnosian nobility defend their world with everything they have, viewing this invasion with a mixture of contempt and outrage. The Space Marines and their allies sustain punishing casualties, whereas the Necrons rise from the blood-stained snows time and time again. As the battle reaches its height the Necrons unleash the might of their Baleful Necropolis. This airborne tomb complex dominates the fight ― mighty blasts of entropic energy from its Monoliths and the Tesseract Vault at its heart lash the Space Marine lines while the ground beneath them yawns into gnashing chasms. Only the desperate actions of Marneus Calgar himself see the Necropolis destroyed and the Transcendent C'tan set loose from its cage. Utter carnage follows, for the wrath of the vengeful star god is unleashed upon both armies. Captain Cato Sicarius saves the battered remnants of the Imperial force with a well-timed vortex grenade that obliterates the C'tan entirely. Damnos' Necrons are laid low, their leaders slain and their resurrection made impossible through the destruction of their stasis-crypts.
TRULY A VICTORY TO THE FORCES OF JUSTICE! It's also total PIS.

The Absorption Wars
Imotekh the Stormlord launches a series of extensive reconquests, intending to absorb those tomb worlds awakened by the Great Rift into the Sautekh Dynasty. The Necrons clash with the daemonic menace on a dozen different worlds, with a will to cleanse the newly aware planets and hence put their dynasties in his debt. With one side epitomising cold logic and order, and the other the white heat of chaos, neither can predict or understand their opponent. Casualties on both sides spiral into the billions, but Imotekh does not relent.
Imotekh's armies can have casualties numbering in the billions, and still remain strong.

Foundation of Sand
On the orders of Belisarius Cawl, Magos Dominus Dentrex Ologostion leads an excavation party to unearth the blackstone buried beneath the surface of the forge world Amontep II. No sooner has an array of noctilith obelisks been uncovered than rank after rank of Necrons arises from the rust-coloured sand. The ensuing battle-data that pours into Ologostion's tactical partition reveals an inescapable truth ― the ancient forge world of Amotep II is home to an even more ancient presence, one that has remained hidden from the Adeptus Mechanicus' most invasive geoscopic surveys for millennia.
Forgebane tie-in.

Imotekh is a grand strategist, perhaps the most accomplished the galaxy has ever known. His campaigns operate not only across worlds, but across entire star systems and sectors. When Imotekh launches an attack, it is impossible to discern if it is the main thrust of his strategy or simply a decoy raid, crafted to bleed enemy reinforcements away from a battle yet to come. All such assaults are carefully weighted to overwhelm forces already in place, requiring the foe to either sacrifice their troops or reinforce them ― and Imotekh's plans are always many stages ahead, set to take advantage of either course. Indeed, the Stormlord's battle plans are incredibly versatile, seeded with feint attacks, counter-strategies and other contingencies enacted automatically should certain circumstances be triggered or thresholds crossed. To outside observers there is something almost mystical to Imotekh's methodology, for how else could he so flawlessly anticipate the unseen? Yet in truth there is nothing more at play here than the careful application of probabilities and logic, combined with a canny understanding of the foe's mindset.
Imotekh the Stormlord's is one of the most brilliant strategists in the history of the galaxy.

As phaeron of the Sautekh, Imotekh can draw upon incredible resources, for the armies of the entire dynasty are his to requisition at need. Yet the Stormlord knows that the foe ― all other sentient life ― is too numerous for victory to be won through force of arms alone. Thus, for Imotekh, terror is a weapon as potent
as any in the Necron arsenal, and one he employs to full effect. His armies advance under the cover of storm-blackened skies, emerald lightning bolts arcing out from heavy clouds to wreak carnage amongst the foe. Enemy armies that advance into the shadow of the storm are simply swallowed up, cut off from all contact whilst the battle lasts. Any warriors that escape from the maelstrom's clutches do so only to sow panic, fear and dismay amongst their comrades. Worse, some such survivors are implanted with bloodswarm nanoscarabs, whose gore-warm scent acts as an irresistible beacon for roaming packs of Flayed Ones.

Imotekh's greatest weapon is fear. And once again we get things related to the shadows of his storm, which can apparently swallow the enemies that are underneath it. How is this some form of advanced Necron-tech and not magic is beyond me.

And there will be many opportunities for such a downfall. Imotekh's domain is growing at a rate unparalleled amongst the Necron dynasties. Over a hundred tomb worlds lie under his regal command, and five times as many alien-held planets pay direct or indirect tribute ― the number of alien civilisations Imotekh has destroyed during his campaigns cannot easily be counted. Such a realm is as nothing when compared to the galaxy-spanning Imperium or the Necron dynasties at the height of their glory, but is nonetheless impressive for the work of mere centuries.
Imotekh's empire holds over 100 Tomb Worlds and over 500 conquered alien worlds. It seems like a lot, but then you consider the immensity of the galaxy and that this is supposed to be the biggest Necron force.

Yet if the prize is large enough, internal power struggles can erupt into open conflict. When this occurs, the remainder of the tomb world's nobles align according to allegiance and ambition, though some will wait as long as possible before doing so whilst they negotiate the price of their loyalty. These internal wars invariably follow the formalised codes that governed the ancient Necrontyr, leading to battles with forces arranged and rules agreed in advance by the competitors. In times before biotransference, such events led to the slaughter of countless millions. Nowadays, thanks to the Necrons' capacity for self-repair, these wars can last for years or even centuries with no discernible victor.
A Civil War when your whole race has regenerative abilities isn't very productive...

When a Necron Lord or Overlord strides forth in his raiment of war, only the strongest and canniest of enemies have any hope of survival. His armoured form is proof against tank-busting weaponry; his metal sinews have might enough to crush bones to powder. At his command are all the arcane armaments of his ancient civilisation: warscythes, staffs of light and other wondrous tools of destruction. Yet perhaps a Necron noble's most potent weapon is his mind. Indeed, a phaeron has so much force of will that he can infuse nearby minions with a portion of his own burning determination, creating an unstoppable core of resistance against any foe.
The armoured body of a Necron Lord is immune against tank-busting weaponry. So even the lowliest Necron Lords / Phaerons are Tier 6.

Crypteks are members of pan-galactic conclaves of technologists whose purpose is to study and maintain the eldritch devices of their race. They are masters of dimensional dissonance, singularity manipulation, atomic transmutation, elemental transmogrification and countless other reason-defying technologies. In many ways, a Cryptek's powers mirror those employed by the psykers of other races, but with a crucial difference: instead of using a mutant mind to channel warp energies, the Cryptek employs arcane science to harness the universe's fundamental forces.
Every conclave specialises in a particular field of techno-sorcery, be it psychomancy, plasmancy, chronomancy or any one of a hundred thousand other disciplines. The conclaves were originally founded to share information and expertise from one end of the galaxy to the other, but have since become fragmented and isolated. In the millennia since biotransference, Crypteks have become just as stagnant and fragmented as every other aspect of Necron society. Nowadays, the surviving conclaves are maintained out of force of habit more than for any practical reason.
The reality-warping Hypertech of the Crypteks. They have control over just about everything you can think of, from dimensional manipulation, black holes, atomic manipulation, elemental transmutation, the fundamental forces of the universe, etc.

For his part, the Overlord gains the full fury of the Cryptek's incredible techno-sorceries. With a mere gesture of his staff of light, a Cryptek can unleash bolts of searing viridian energy that melt through the thickest armour with ease. The chronometron is another favoured treasure amongst the Crypteks. This eye-shaped device can alter and shift the flow of time around its bearer, slowing incoming energy blasts and flying bullets to a crawl. To better observe the effects of their rampaging creations, some Crypteks utilise Canoptek cloaks to soar above the fray ― each of these techno-arcane shrouds is attached to a spider-like construct that generates a powerful anti-gravity pressor field, allowing its wearer to speed through the air. This item also has a remarkable secondary function, able to stitch together a damaged necrodermis with its supple limbs and focused radiation beamers.
The technological marvels wielded by the Crypteks are the weapons of the gods, and only gods would think to stand against them.

Another description of the power of a Cryptek.

The C'tan might have provided the knowledge for biotransference, but it was Szeras who made it a reality. Even then, he saw it as the first of several steps on the path to ultimate evolution, a journey that would end as a creature not of flesh or metal, but as a god of pure energy. Until that day, Szeras is driven to take full advantage of his android form. After all, no longer must he sleep nor deal with the thousand frailties and distractions to which flesh is heir.
Necron wants to ascend into a god of pure energy.

Once seized, Szeras' specimens can look forward only to a pain-filled, though not necessarily brief, existence in the bloodstained and shadowed laboratory catacombs of Zantragora. Few of Szeras' operations are carried out on the dead, for he believes the knowledge he seeks resides only in the living. Banks of stasis machinery keep the subject alive and aware throughout the procedures, though they do nothing to numb the terrible pain. The specimens' agonised screams are of no consequence to Szeras, as he feels no kinship with such inferior beings. He simply shuts off his audio receptors until the repulsive noise subsides, watching impassively as his whirring tools carve the subject apart molecule by molecule.
Imagine being dissected alive on a molecular level by an alien robot cyborg mad scientist.

Orikan is a consummate astromancer, able to calculate the events of the future from the patterns of the stars. Thus did he know of the Fall of the Aeldari, the Rise of Man, the Horus Heresy, the coming of the Tyranids and the Great Rift many thousands of years before they came to pass. Through careful study and scrutiny, Orikan can even divine lesser occurrences: the movement of fleets, the destinies of individuals, even the strategies undertaken by campaigning armies ― events not important enough to reshape the galaxy, but the foreknowledge of which can dramatically change the fortunes of the beholder.
What the actual ****.

Skilled astromancer though he is, Orikan's predictions are not flawless. Unforeseen events can queer his calculations, altering, wiping out and replacing his prophesied timeline. Warp travel is a consistent aggravation, as its eddies and anarchies seem to delight in defying his predictions. Under such circumstances, to preserve his plans and reputation, Orikan is forced to employ a closely guarded set of chronomantic abilities. Travelling backwards down his own timeline, he emerges in the past at a point at which he can set his prophesied version of the future back on track, normally by having the interfering factor destroyed in some manner.
In Orikan's predictions, the Imperial Navy dockyards on Helios VI should never have survived the onset of Waaagh! Skullkrak, and did so only by an inconvenient intervention by the meddlesome Silver Skulls 4th Company. By retroactively arranging for the Space Marines to be ambushed and nearly wiped out by Necron forces some weeks earlier, Orikan ensured that the destruction of Helios VI ultimately occurred as first foreseen. Thus were the Necrons able to reclaim much of the surrounding sector, and more importantly, thus was Orikan's reputation kept intact.
Ah, I see. So his precognition is actually shit, but he can send his memories to the past.

Orikan takes great care to keep his machinations hidden from his peers. Though chronomancy is a science practiced by many other Crypteks, no other is remotely capable of Orikan's feats, something that would increase a hundredfold the suspicion in which he is held. And suspicion is the last thing Orikan needs at this moment. A thousand millennia of planning and preparation are about to come to fruition. Once the stars are in the proper alignment, Orikan will finally embrace his true destiny; his physical form will become a vessel for impossible celestial energies, making him a shining being of terrible power, and the temporal traps he has set throughout the galaxy will activate ― and, like a spider pulling at its web, Orikan will manipulate the skein of time itself to his advantage.
Like the guy before, Orikan ALSO wants to ascend into a god of pure energy, and obtain complete control over time.

Trazyn is a preserver of histories, artefacts and events. The vast and numberless vaults burrowed through the tomb world of Solemnace are crowded with technologies so rare and sublime that any Adeptus Mechanicus Tech-Priest would give the lives of several close colleagues just to know that they existed. It is a hoard ever growing, for history is always on the march and Trazyn strives to keep pace. Alas, not many worlds willingly give up the artefacts Trazyn seeks, selfishly clutching onto the few meaningful things in their civilisation rather than offering them up to be preserved through the ages. In such circumstances, Trazyn has little choice but to muster his armies and take them by force ― if this results in the destruction of a city, a planet or an entire sector, so be it.
Trazyn the Collector.

More to come...
 
Nemesor Zahndrekh stared dolefully at the seething tide of greenskins that was tumbling over the canyon edge opposite. Some of the armoured brutes died on impact, with the Necron warriors firing up at them from the bottom of the gulch. Many more struck axe-first, their crunching impact causing the Necrons to phase out by the score.
'These separatists are insane,' said Zahndrekh with a chattering sigh of exasperation. 'They were supposed to be trapped at the edge of the cliff, not to voluntarily jump over it. Our fine plan lies in tatters, Obyron.' The hulking vargard said nothing, for his emerald gaze was on the skies.
There was a sudden roar, and a trio of Orks hurtled upon smoking jetpacks, bellowing as they fired their primitive pistols at the nemesor. Obyron blinked from existence to reappear in the path of the bullets. They ricocheted from the bodyguard's impervious metal body without harm. The Ork jump troops thundered down, brandishing their axes. Obyron's scythe flashed once, twice, three times. Six bleeding lumps of Ork flesh fell to the ground nearby. Their blood spattered the nemesor, but he did not notice, for he was intent on the battle in the gulch.
'Nothing for it,' said Zahndrekh. 'Send in the Monoliths, and have the Night Scythes bring in the reserve phalanxes in a classic Ectos overlap. We can still be back in time for the feast!'
A decent speed feat.

On the battlefield, Anrakyr is often accompanied by a cadre of his Pyrrhian Eternals ― the remnant of the vast Immortal legion with which he began his great work. These ageless veterans are utterly faithful to their master and murderously efficient in furthering his goals. Yet even their threat pales beside that of Anrakyr himself. When he desires that an enemy be utterly destroyed, he unleashes the power of his tachyon arrow, a wrist-mounted energy caster. When fired, this device utilises faster-than-light tachyonic particles to transmute a sliver of metal into a lance of energy that can erase a foe from existence entirely.
Tachyon Arrows.

The same force of will that enables Anrakyr to maintain command over his forces can be refocused to deceive enemy targeting systems, granting him control of the foe's weaponry for brief periods of time. So it is that any foe who takes the field against Anrakyr would be well served to pay equal attention to the guns at their rear in addition to those at their front...
Technopathy.

What Necron Warriors lack in intuition they more than make up for in determination and durability. Once orders have been received, they are completely single-minded and will follow commands through to conclusion without question. Furthermore, individual warriors can suffer grievous damage before they cease fighting. Even dismemberment or decapitation may not stay a Necron Warrior's advance, for its sophisticated self-repair mechanisms can return it to the fray. Despite this incredible endurance, a Necron Warrior is not entirely fearless. Though most of its instincts have long since been expunged or degraded into nothingness, its need for self-preservation still has some purchase on its mind. Should this survival instinct go untriggered, however, the Warrior will carry on fighting to almost unbelievable degrees, marching heedlessly through the worst horrors of war.
The resilience of the Necron warrior.

GAUSS WEAPONRY
Gauss weapons are the mainstay arms of the Necron legions, ranging from the rifle-sized gauss flayer through to the enormous heavy gauss cannon. No matter their scale, the function of these weapons is the same; they emit a molecular disassembling beam, capable of reducing flesh, armour and bone to their constituent atoms in a moment. Even the thick armour plating of an Astra Militarum tank is no proof against such horrendous firepower. The awful wounds caused by gauss weapons are greatly feared by the line infantry of the other races, and are almost impossible to treat using conventional methods.
Necron Gauss Weapons. These are the most basic weaponry under their access.

What Immortals lack in flexibility of approach, they more than make up for in durability and firepower. Immortals are more thickly armoured than Necron Warriors and can weather a storm of heavy bolter or assault cannon fire with little more to show for it than fresh carbon-scoring on their already time-worn frames. Even should an Immortal be felled, its threat is not ended, for its auto-repair systems are, if anything, the tiniest fraction more efficient than that of the baseline warriors. Few foes can withstand the Immortals' return fire so easily. A single shot from a gauss blaster can punch through most types of armour to strip flesh from bone, and the closer the Immortals come to their target, the shorter the interval between blistering volleys. At that point, all the foe can do is dive for cover, but this offers only a fool's hope of survival. There can be no hiding from Immortals ― their gauss blasters will scour every nook and cranny until naught remains but ash on the breeze.
The power of a Necron Immortal.

TESLA WEAPONRY
Some of the most terrifying weapons deployed by the warriors of the Necron dynasties utilise tesla technology. Such armaments unleash bolts of living lightning that envelop their target, melting flesh and metal alike. Worse still for the victim, these bolts feed off the energy unleashed by this destruction, growing more and more furious with each volley.
The bulkiest tesla weapons ― such as the much-feared tesla destructor carried by Night Scythes and Annihilation Barges ― fire crackling arcs that not only immolate the target instantaneously, but create forks of searing energy that reach out to strike other victims.
Tesla Weapons.

As with much of the Necron army, a Lychguard's armament is decreed largely by tradition. Most are equipped with heavy-bladed warscythes drawn from their patron's personal armoury ― when combined with a Lychguard's prodigious strength, there is very little such a blade cannot penetrate. Phalanxes employed by more influential Overlords instead carry hyperphase swords and dispersion shields, trading a little in the way of raw strength in favour of the incredible protection granted by the dispersion shields' interlocking force barriers. Whilst such a squad might make slower progress as they carve through a Space Marine strike force, the ability to withstand anything from a siege shell to a defence laser blast is ample compensation.
The strength of a Lychguard.

BLADES OF THE PHAERONS
The majority of Necron close-combat weapons, such as the warscythes carried by the elite Lychguard, project destabilising energy fields that warp and buckle armour. Other weapons, like the deadly hyperphase sword, vibrate at such a tremendous frequency that they shift between several dimensional states, passing straight through shields and thick chitin plating to sink into the victim's vital organs.
The incredible durability-bypassing properties of Necron blades.

The Tomb Blade was originally designed as a void-capable, single-pilot fighter during the final days of the War in Heaven. As Necrons' robotic bodies are immune to the hazards of interplanetary space, traditional pressure-sealed and canopied craft were unnecessary from the very outset. Acting in flights that were dozens or even hundreds strong, Tomb Blades would swarm over enemy capital ships, overwhelming armour and weapon systems with waves of pinpoint gauss and tesla fire. So successfully did the craft perform in its primary environment that modified versions soon appeared in planetside battles. Over time this became the more commonplace of the two roles, one of the few occasions in which the hidebound traditions of the Necron military were adapted to exploit opportunity.
The Tomb Blade has a curious motion for a craft of its design, eschewing the arrowstraight attack vectors of other jetbikes and fighter craft. The attack craft's dimensional repulsor engines ensure that gravity, momentum and other forces have little purchase upon its frame. As a result, the craft often corkscrew across the battlefield rather than taking a more direct approach, and constantly change vectors and altitude in a manner fit to boggle the enemy's aim. No flesh and blood pilot could ever hope to contend with such an anarchic approach without succumbing to blackouts and nausea, but such hazards have no hold over machines.
Despite appearances to the contrary, the attack patterns performed by Tomb Blades are strictly controlled by a series of hyperfractal equations. Indeed, they have to be, for a Necron Warrior alone would make for a truly dreadful pilot. To compensate for this, attack patterns are entirely preplanned and the pilot cannot alter them once in flight, though it can switch between different tactical packages in order to adapt to fresh objectives.
Lots of things to absorb here: Firstly, Necron Warriors are immune to the void of space. Secondly, the Tomb Blades, the basic Necron flying craft, are capable of moving in space as well as atmosphere. Thirdly, they are powered by dimensional repulsors that nullify the effects of gravity, momentum, vectors and other forces. Finally, they are auto-piloted by the calculations of their hyper-advanced computer systems.

The pre-programmed nature of a Tomb Blade's flight means that it is therefore theoretically possible to predict the flight path it will take, but only a genius-level intellect could divine that there was a pattern at all. Even if said genius could isolate and identify the particular set of equations in use, no conventional targeting computer could ever hope to process the data fast enough to be of any help. Some Tomb Blades are even fitted with shadowlooms that emit a veil of unnatural darkness to shroud the vehicle, making their esoteric flight-paths even more difficult to track. Thus, a Tomb Blade is just as difficult a quarry as the most accomplished of all mortals, even though its pilot's skill is immensely inferior.
Tomb Blades often operate far ahead of the main army, striking at lightly defended positions, supply convoys and other targets of opportunity. Though the planet-side version of these craft do not mount the macro-class hull-cutter weaponry of the space-fighter variants, the twinned tesla carbines and gauss blasters can prove just as devastating when employed against advancing infantry. When deployed against entrenched enemy positions, many Tomb Blades carry nebuloscopes, allowing them to trace M-dimensional paths along which they can fire upon their targets. Others ― particularly those serving as a vanguard force against heavy enemy defences ― are arrayed with shieldvanes, affording them additional protection as they conduct their withering strafing runs.
The computer systems of the Tomb Blades are far faster and more advanced than those of any enemy weapons's targeting systems, making it impossible to track and predict them. Finally, Tomb Blades possess nebuloscopes, which allows them to move through multi-dimensional paths alongside the battlefield.

Deathmarks seldom take position with the rest of the army at battle's start. Instead, they slip sideways out of reality and monitor the ongoing conflict from a hyperspace oubliette ― a pocket dimension riding the gap between then and now. They can remain here for days upon end, waiting patiently for the opportune moment to act. Deathmarks choose their time of intercession carefully. They can be summoned to the fray at the order of the army's commander, but more often they are left to employ their own judgement ― biotransference has done little to dull the Deathmarks' predatory instincts and most nemesors are content to trust to this. From their hyperspace sanctuary, the Deathmarks can track the initiation and target points of enemy communication channels, teleport beams and even orbital descents with childish ease. Thus are the deployment locations of enemy commanders and reinforcements betrayed.
Necron Deathmarks assassins reside in pocket dimensions outside of time, from which they perfectly observe the battlefield and the enemies. From there they can even track the movement of enemy communications.

With the target tracked and established, the Deathmarks exit their oubliette to appear silently upon a ridge or ruin that affords unobstructed view of their quarry. From here, the Deathmarks place the hunter's mark from which they take their name ― an eerie green energy halo that plays about the target's head. The halo glows brightly through five dimensions, ensuring that no matter how far or by what manner the target flees, the Deathmarks will never lose track of them. Naturally, such a marking does not last forever, perhaps only an hour or so at best, but an hour is a laughably long time for a Deathmark squad on the hunt. The target will be lucky to survive more than a few seconds before being torn apart by fire from the Deathmarks' longbarrelled synaptic disintegrators.
******* Fifth-Dimensional aiming.

The weapons of the Deathmarks kill the mind as well as the body. Not only do these strange glowing rifles fire a pulse of energy powerful enough to scorch flesh to ash, they also break apart the neural pathways that enable sentient creatures to think, to act, even to breathe. Each shot essentially slices the brain in a million different locations at once; regardless of which part of the body the shot actually strikes, their baleful emanations will reach the target's brain in some manner or another, cutting away their thoughts ― severing their very sentience ― to leave the victim with no chance of recovery. It is fortunate indeed that these undying warriors have suffered their own mental degenerations, or they would never miss.
Sniper bullets that destroy the mind as well as the body.

In a galaxy full to overspilling with genocidal despots, Destroyer Lords remain worthy of mention as something truly horrific. Those of the Mephrit Dynasty, whose culture prizes obliteration above all others, are particularly well known for systematically annihilating entire systems, planet by planet, leaving only corpse-strewn wastelands behind them. Where others kill for pleasure, or in service to some malignant god, Destroyer Lords pursue their bloody crusade simply because it is their chosen course. By their calculation, joy is just one more pointless emotion, and the favour of gods naught but a crutch to support the frailties of flesh.
Destroyer Lords employ technologies that destroy a system planet by planet.

Destroyer Lords are formidable combatants, for their physical strength equals that of the mightiest Overlords. Many favour warscythes or voidblades over ranged tools of war. In his horrific way, a Destroyer Lord is a craftsman, and the fruits of his bloody labours are far more easily tallied in the thick of the fighting. There is no artistry to a Destroyer Lord's blows ― each swing of his blade is driven by the desire for optimum efficiency. Similarly, those few that do favour slaughtering from afar train their deathly beams upon their enemies with cold, dispassionate precision. The resultant annihilation ― though often spectacular ― is registered by the Destroyer Lord simply as the logical conclusion of their hardwired hatred.
Destroyer Lords match Necron Overlords in strength.

Flayed Ones are carrion creatures, the victims of a terrible madness that took root during the last days of the War in Heaven. Their curse was the parting gift of one of the C'tan: Llandu'gor, the Flayer. It is said that when the Necrons turned upon the C'tan, the Flayer was not merely splintered as were his brothers, but utterly obliterated. Yet, in his dying moments, he called down a terrible curse upon his betrayers, tainting them with an echo of his fearsome hunger. For aeons the Flayer's curse went unnoticed and unseen. By the time the madness began to manifest, the afflicted Necrons had travelled far and wide, unwittingly spreading the disease to countless worlds.
A Necron over whom the flayer curse has taken hold suffers a slow and tortuous erosion of sanity. It begins to revel in the bloody ruin of fleshed foes, and is driven to claim gruesome trophies of skin, sinew and bone. As the madness progresses, the victim becomes compelled to feast upon the fallen. It cannot actually digest or consume flesh in any sense ― the blood simply seeps through the gaps in its exoskeleton to clog its joints and pool at its feet ― yet still the Necron is driven to gorge itself upon gore in a doomed attempt to sate an unquenchable lust. Physical changes occur shortly thereafter, wracking and twisting the afflicted Necron's form into something as warped in body as it is in function. Ultimately, the accursed Necron simply disappears, drawn by unknown instinct to a pocket dimension where he will forever dwell amidst the charnel palaces of the Flayed Ones. It is said only the Oroskh know the reason why.
Necron Flayed Ones. They are Necrons who have been cursed by a C'tan in his dying act, and are completely insane and bloodthirsty as a result. They also reside in a strange pocket dimension of their own.

Most Overlords make little or no attempt to adapt their plans for the unwanted actions of Flayed Ones, preferring rather to accept any advantage their presence brings. Regardless of the horrific creatures' usefulness, it is not uncommon for an Overlord to order the execution of any surviving Flayed Ones at battle's end. Alas, only the most insane are slaughtered easily. The rest slip sideways through the dimensions to reappear in their palaces of rotting flesh, laden with their newly claimed trophies and reeking of fresh blood.
Necron Flayed Ones can slip through other spatial dimensions to avoid enemy attack.

More to come...
 
"All tau girls are big boobied. I know this for a fact. They are cows AND anime. It is impossible for them to be flat." - a ******* deviant SexualYeti
 
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