Not if its a 1:1 match-up.
FarseerQuest [Warhammer 40k]
- Thread starter Faith
- Start date
Not if its a 1:1 match-up.
Faith
Some idea of what I'm doing.
- Location
- Land of Waves and Warmth
Those weren't contested combat numbers, they were parameter rolls, for how well the Crypteks are doing with... whatever it is they're doing. And, likewise, for how well your coalition is doing hunting them down.
That said, you and Tenyl both rolled terribly. It's probably a good thing you decided to meet up with Veldris.
That said, you and Tenyl both rolled terribly. It's probably a good thing you decided to meet up with Veldris.
Turn 4-5
Faith
Some idea of what I'm doing.
- Location
- Land of Waves and Warmth
Winning Vote
[X] Call the Autarch to you and finish the Archon's mission. The damage your strike force has inflicted upon the necron leadership already is significant - completing the destruction of the court's highest leaders would leave the Dynasty leaderless and aimless.
It doesn't take much to get in touch with Veldris - he's not far, indeed, and in the process of wrangling the warhost back into a mobile formation when you contact him.
"Veldris."
"Yes, Farseer?"
"The Overlord is dead, and we've identified the likely location of the remaining High Crypteks. If possible, we'd like your help to dig them out."
"Very well, Farseer. We've done plenty of damage as is - to say nothing of the Orks. We'll prepare to join you."
"In case you happen to run into any Crypteks or other nobles of note before we meet up, try to preserve their heads. The Archon's building a little collection."
"How quaint," Veldris notes. "I suppose he wants to hang them on the wall of his throne room, or something. You don't foresee issues with him doing this?"
"Mm," you say, noncommittal. In truth, you're not entirely sure letting the drukhari get their hands on necron technology is the best of ideas - but the drukhari already possess great collections of aeldari technology from before the Fall, and terribly devious devices of their own devising, as well. Necron technology wouldn't be an enormous leap in power for them, as it would be for the mon'keigh, assuming they're able to reverse engineer it at all. And even in that case, the nature of drukhari politics would prevent widespread adoption for a long time.
But the Archon is here at your side, and dedicating his forces towards a goal that is to your mutual benefit, so for now, and for the imminent future, it's not something you're inclined to concern yourself with.
Veldris doesn't sound entirely convinced by your entirely unconvincing answer, but you only hear a hint of a sigh before he continues. "Very well, then."
"There's a large chamber, we believe a workshop, about halfway between us," you tell him, and he hums in agreement with your unstated suggestion.
"We'll about-face and meet you there, then. You probably don't need the warning, but keep an eye out for Wraiths - there seem to be a fair few more active now than on our way in."
You thank him for the suggestion, end the call, and point with your blade down the blackstone halls, towards the Autarch's location.
"We'll link up with the Warhost shortly," you announce, to an audience that doesn't outwardly show relief but nonetheless seems to perk up slightly at the news. "We move."
Your group cut through another pair of Tomb Scarabs on their way to the workshop, another of the Archon's kabalites cut down screaming by their gauss flayers in the process, and arrive at the great chamber only to find it not only empty, but visibly stripped bare.
There are inactive anti-gravity cradles, benches of tools picked clean, swirling clouds of recently disturbed dust still dancing in the half-light. The necrons must have already seized whatever canoptek constructs and artefacts were here.
If so, to what end?
"There's nothing here," one kabalite moans. "Shouldn't there be-"
And then Belelon cries out "below us!", and draws his sword - an action quickly mimicked by the rest of the party, as the first slicing claws of the canoptek wraiths phase through the floor around your feet.
A flex of psychic will lifts you off the ground completely, your fellow Seers joining you, and when the wraiths crawl further through the floor to chase you they quickly find themselves beset by attacks from all sides. Their phasing devices protect them from the bulk of that fire, but that's a problem you've solved more than a few times already today.
Reality twists to your whim, and unphased becomes phased, becomes hopelessly stuck in the floor, joints locked up and exposed components vulnerable, and then a dozen wraiths are reduced to twisted scrap.
The Archon kicks a severed head across the floor. "A more advanced ambush than we've previously seen. Irukos?"
"A guiding intelligence, perhaps," the trueborn concedes, swapping his power sword for the engram device. "A local cryptek, I suspect. Reading data from these engrams is not a simple process, especially not under these circumstances, with this equipment."
After a few seconds, he spits out a string of mon'keigh curse words, and then he continues unabated. "But as far as I can tell, there's a stasis chamber nearby set to be inhabited by one Revenant Khedet. It seems he's responsible for the management of the canoptek constructs, likely explaining the proximity of his chamber to the workshop."
"And if he's already awake, he might have taken command of whatever constructs were here to defend himself."
"How should I know?" Irukos sighs, stands, and puts his gear away. "His stasis chamber isn't far, and there's a second canoptek mustering chamber not much further, if you'd like to search there instead."
"Do you think there'll be any good loot in his chamber?" one of the kabalites asks, and a rousing discussion erupts around the particular merits of looting technology from the necrons, when the drukhari already possess great quantities of incredible machines themselves.
Some sterling points are made both for and against, and a part of you can't help but feel Tenne would be delighted to participate in such a debate, but you can't bring yourself to care about that when there are still enemies to destroy.
On the periphery of your awareness, you can sense dozens of aeldari souls drawing closer, the march of the Warhost barely audible above the drukhari's squabbles. Their arrival doesn't go unnoticed, though, the Opal Blade quickly presenting ranks when they, too, hear the movement, only to relax as the warriors of the Silver Fury enter, catapults raised.
"I apologise for our delay," Veldris announces from somewhere behind the wave of warriors. "There was a Reanimator."
When the Fire Dragons sweep in on the heels of the Dire Avengers, their fusion blasters still faintly shimmering behind a heat haze, you quickly intuit what happened to said Reanimator.
"I must admit," Veldris continues, slipping through the crowd of warriors to join you and the Archon. "I was expecting more constructs. The orks are drawing a lot of attention, but even so, we're facing little resistance. Almost too little."
"There'll be more," the Archon notes. "There were canopteks in this chamber not too long ago, and they're not here now - they didn't cut through your forces or ours on the way out, so they can only be deeper in."
Veldris hums in agreement, and follows the Archon's gaze to the third and final entrance to this room - the one that leads further below, towards the cryptek's stasis chamber and the deeper storerooms of the tomb.
"Well," the Autarch smirks after a moment of silent contemplation. "No reason to give them more time to prepare. Shall we?"
The Archon's forces are more than happy to let the Aspect Warriors of Yau-Fenni take the lead as you continue further into the tomb complex, but the pace the Dire Avengers set is no less punishing than that of the kabalites, and the attempts of the necron tomb to repel you no less present.
Dire Avengers and Dark Reapers gun down shambling necron warriors and Striking Scorpions carve through wraith constructs the moment they phase into reality. A canoptek spyder emerges, surrounded by a writhing mass of tomb scarabs, and a wave of dragonfire reduces them to so much molten, bubbling necrodermis slag in a flash of heat and light. The Wraithguard are an implacable bulwark at your back, not just driving away any necrons seeking to attack from behind, but more than happy to spare a moment to obliterate any remnants you leave in your wake, banishing the fallen necrons to the Warp, presumably forevermore.
Along the way, you take a moment to trade nodes with Veldris and Spiritseer Tachord, warning them of the anti-warp device that broke Sauri's warmask, and describing the Overlord you slew in his stasis chamber. They, in turn, tell you of their own progress - laying waste to several canoptek workshops, a vehicle bay, and hundreds of lesser warriors in their own stasis chambers. And they tell you of a psychomancer - a cryptek who fled their march after his neuro-disruptor weapons failed to impress the warriors of the Wraithhost.
With Irukos yelling directions from the back, your warriors quickly make their way to the cryptek's stasis chamber, only to find it, too, has already been abandoned, and after only a few moment's deliberation you move on once more, to the cryptek's next likely location - another canoptek chamber.
When you arrive, the chamber's great stone doors have already been slammed shut, a featureless blackstone monolith barring the path. Irukos worms through the crowd of warriors to take up a position just to the side of the door, where a computer terminal of some sort sits nestled in a slight alcove.
You take the briefest of moments to foresee what you'll see when you open the door, and realise quite quickly that a mistake has been made. The maps Irukos had provided indicated this place was where many soldiers were gathered, and the drukhari had labelled it as another canoptek storage chamber.
But it's not a storeroom, you realise, and quickly vocalise to your comrades. It's a mustering point. Soldiers aren't gathered here for storage - they're gathered here when they set off for war.
And the far wall is dominated by an enormous gate of living stone, one that, in your visions, hums with a psychic resonance any aeldari would recognise. A webway gate - a Dolmen Gate, rather, a necron-build tool that allowed for temporary intrusions into the webway, that let them cross the void between one Dolmen Gate and another in mere moments, no matter how far apart they were in reality.
That realisation is important, but a second, more tactically pressing realisation follows quickly on its heels - the chamber is bustling with necron crypto thralls, lumbering mechanical drones conveying stocks of machinery and artifice you can't identify through the gate and to some faraway place.
Well, probably not too far away a place - there is only one other necron site known to you in the Parulax Expanse, and what you know of it indicates it would be the most likely place for the crypteks to flee to, with the tomb of Yerrasa compromised so completely.
Standing at the foot of the gate, in your vision, are two necron figures, crypteks adorned in all the robes and finery their station must demand of them, watching the procession of cryptothralls go.
One is a plasmancer, you guess, from the vast panoply of wargear settled upon his shoulders, and the staff burning with destructive light. The other, you're less certain of - necron crypteks rarely feel the need to beholden themselves to any sort of standard when they design new warforms and modifications. The wasp-like abdomen in place of legs and the two long tendrils draping from the back could be a deliberate attempt to mimic the form and posture of the nightbringer, or it could be a mere flight of fancy.
Either way, you make note to treat them with care. No cryptek is a complete pushover - and these have had time to prepare.
Dolmen Gates, you know, are dangerous and unstable means of transport - the webway itself rebels against their existence, its pathways constricting whenever it senses a Dolmen Gate breach so that intruders can be squeezed out, and utilising them is ever a race to get from one Gate to the next before the constricting fabric of reality crushes you to a fine paste.
You spare a few moments to convey this vision to the Autarch and the Archon, neither of whom flinches at your explanation, or your illusory depiction of the crowd of cryptothralls lining up to carry the cryptek's loot
"They're cutting their losses and running," the Archon muses, sounding surprised. "I didn't think the necrons would give up so easily."
"You killed their rulers, didn't you?" Veldris points out. "They likely see it as a better use of their time to retreat, rally, and come to seek revenge at a later date, than to die defending a fortress that has already been breached."
"I suppose," the Archon concedes. "No matter. This is a good opportunity to seize two more cryptek heads - and whatever the thralls are carrying, I suppose."
"Before we get too far ahead of ourselves, we should consider one issue," Irukos interjects, from his position at the terminal beside the door. "Loathe as I am to admit it, the necrons understand their own technology more than I do - this door is locked, and I cannot coerce it into opening."
"Well, that's a solvable problem," Veldris says, with an air of indifference. "Now, Farseer - how far away would you say these Crypteks are?"
Blackstone is many things - physically durable, psychically resonant, mildly soul-consuming in high concentrations.
One thing it is not is impervious to concentrated fire from several dozen fusion blasters and fire pikes. The blast leaves the door a glowing misshapen lump of molten rock and the warriors of Yau-Fenni see this as no obstacle at all, skipping across the white-hot surface so quickly they don't have time to burn before they've moved on, guns screaming all the while.
The cryptothralls - or rather the crypteks, for the thralls themselves have little going on in the thinking department, respond quickly to the sudden and violent intrusion, and suddenly every cryptothrall without something in their arms is deploying blades and charging into combat whilst their belaboured companions instead hurry towards the Dolmen Gate.
A squad of Warp Spiders pop into existence between the gate and the fleeing cryptothralls, powerblades and death spinners unleashing for just a moment upon the crypteks - but by the time the necrons turn, to better situate themselves against the unexpected attack from behind, the Warp Spiders are gone again.
And with their backs turned, neither necron sees the sudden approach of the Swooping Hawks until they're being kicked in the back of the head, and close range laser fire from a circling squad of elites distracts them enough for the Warp Spiders to return.
Both squads of Aspect Warriors are lead by Exarchs, and both Exarchs have supplemented the usual armament of their shrine with power swords - and now, standing side by side, Hawk and Spider launch into a furious melee against the crypteks, their fellows a swirling mass of pulsing lasers and swirling monowire that puts a harsh damper on anyone else's attempts to approach.
Anyone else but the Incubi, who at their master's behest have charged across the room to throw themselves into the fray as well, lending their skill at arms to the Exarchs. You leave Veldris to manage that dance of blades and death, turning your own attention to the rest of the battle.
Cryptothralls are not smart opponents, or skilled opponent, or even particularly well-armed opponents - a clumsy scythe blade being made of necrodermis didn't make it any less clumsy, and the energy weapons contained within their shining eyes burned and blackened but could not breach the wraithbone armour of your warriors, at least not in a single shot.
But they were sturdy, and numerous, and moving in a great tide, and the rest of your warriors were giving their all to cut through the rush of oncoming machines. It is here you lend your psychic might, bolstering your allies in body and spirit just as Ismerelda works to do quite the opposite to your foes.
Initially, it goes well - your warriors are disciplined, the kabalites provide ample covering fire and watch the far flanks, the weight of your psychic presence amply tips the scales, and every time your heavy weapons fire, fusion blasters and wraithcannons and reaper launchers alike exact a heavy toll.
Then the Dolmen Gate makes a sound like grinding stone, and a giant mechanical spider appears - tall as a Wraithknight, towering over everyone present. It carries no weapons that you can see, but with sheer size and weight alone you imagine it can deal a lot of damage regardless.
There's another cryptek, too, standing atop the mechanical beast and brandishing a staff that crackles with green lightning. The seraptek's master, no doubt.
Its mere arrival casts a deathly silence across the battlefield - not literally, of course, there's too much gunfire and screaming for that, but mentally. It's a far greater foe than you expected to face within the tomb complex, an enemy better fought by a tank column or your precious Wraithknights.
"SERAPTEK! BRING IT DOWN!" Veldris screams, and with that the single moment of panic ends. Several dozen warriors turn their guns its way, and it ignores all of them as it launches into a titanic charge, stepping right over the furball at the gate (although you do see it swat aside one Swooping Hawk like an insect as it passes) and rushing through the crowd of cryptothralls towards you.
And not the general 'you', the aeldari force as a whole, either - you. The cryptek riding atop the seraptek is pointing his staff at you, his eye boring into yours and his focus unshakeable.
Fusion blasters fire, leaving glowing red scars across the construct's armoured surface. Wraithcannons fire, and bursts of Warp energy explode like fireworks across its armour, but the thick necrodermis serves to slow down both - your forces could fell it, given time, you suspect, but they won't get that time unaided.
Previously, you had been endeavouring to restrain yourself - good practice in general, because to do otherwise would merely increase the odds of one of Her demons attempting to seek you out, and more specifically so you would still have some energy in reserve in case of emergencies.
This, you feel, qualifies.
A wave of telekinetic force, nothing more than a vast psychic bludgeon, sweeps across the room. Almost as a side-effect, dozens of cryptothralls are knocked backwards or thrown off their feet, but the bulk of that force is directed at the seraptek. It, too, staggers back, almost freezes as you tighten your grip around it.
And then the cryptek riding its back raises one hand. There's a flash of recognition in your mind, followed a sliver of a second later by a flash of light and wrongness, and your telekinetic field unravels like worn-out fabric, the seraptek lurching forward as your resistance evaporates.
It's a deeply unpleasant experience, like a lash across your mind as the null field counteracts your spell. But it fades after a moment - and your war mask does not, which means the area of the null field can't be that large.
Even as you ponder that, the seraptek steadies itself and resumes its assault, but even the moment of extra time is enough for the warriors of Yau-Fenni. The next volley of fusion blasts is more precise, more targeted, and they strike directly at joints, one titanic front leg all but disintegrating from concentrated firepower. It lurches forward again, stumbling to regain its balance, and catches a third volley as it tries to stand. This, at last, is enough to dislodge its rider, and though the cryptek drifts down from the construct's back, buoyed by some anti-gravity device, this takes his focus away long enough that you feel no trepidation when you throw out another blast of psychic energy, long chains of pseudo-lightning cutting down the cryptothralls who had pushed in on the flank whilst the Fire Dragons turned their attentions elsewhere.
The seraptek construct rises as best it can with a leg missing, and immediately begins enacting its' revenge - your warriors are nimble, yes, fast moving and small targets for such a towering construct, but there are still more cryptothralls, and room to manoeuvre amidst the mass of soldiers is in short supply. More than a few of Yau-Fenni's finest are crushed against the floor or flung across the room.
At this point, it makes little difference. As fierce as the seraptek is, with one front limb destroyed and the others being rapidly torn apart, it simply can't kill your warriors fast enough to matter. As more limbs give out, it topples, writhing and flailing until one Fire Dragon melts a hole in its exposed belly and delivers a melta-bomb to its innards.
The resulting flash of light and heat is held at bay by a hasty psychic shield, and the Dragons without pause turn their fire back upon the dwindling horde of cryptothralls.
The cryptek, thrown from his mount, is rapidly surrounded by Veldris and the Dire Avengers at the forefront, and in what seems to be no more than the space between blinks the cryptek is disarmed, then disarmed again in the more literal sense, and then brought to the ground.
At the far end of the room, three Hawks and a Spider lay dead, but the Hawk Exarch holds one necron skull triumphantly. The second necron skull - and corresponding body, it seems, are missing. Escaped through the Dolmen Gate, perhaps, with the lion's share of whatever supplies and equipment they'd hoped to flee with.
No matter. Two additional crypteks are dead, a rare and dangerous heavy construct lies in smouldering ruins, and the tomb complex itself, according to the Autarch, has suffered greatly at both his hands and the hands of the orks. The Archon cannot rightly complain about the bounty of skulls he has harvested, and your strategic goals have been met with success.
A dozen of your warriors lay dead around the room, and you doubt they were the only casualties the Autarch suffered on his march. More are wounded, and although they at least should recover at the Shrine of Isha, they will be unable to take to the field for some time.
Though not cheap, this was a victory. And it could have been much worse.
"We're unlikely to find any more Crypteks lingering," you tell the Archon, as the dead and wounded are collected, cradled gently by the tireless Wraithhost. "It is time to make our exit."
"I should think so," he agrees, with one last glance at the Dolmen Gate. "But they'll be back. They won't let this injury slide."
"No." You don't need prophetic visions to tell you that much. "But they won't find us easy prey to catch. And very soon they're likely to be busy with all manner of other invaders."
"Ah, yes. The servants of Chaos. Are they likely to intrude upon the ruins of Moravian?"
"I suspect they'll stumble across them. Whether they deem them of sufficient interest to enter is another matter."
"Well. In any case, if you do happen to collect any additional skulls, don't hesitate to reach out."
"What about the orks?" Veldris asks. "Should we tell them we're departing?"
"Let them have their fun," the Archon suggests. "Either they demolish the tomb or the necrons wipe them out. The galaxy is better off either way."
The Autarch looks back to you, and you shrug. "That is exactly what we brought them for."
"Well... fair enough." The Autarch turns, and yells so loudly his voice echoes through the empty chamber. "Our work is done, warriors! Recover the fallen, and let us leave this place of death."
Tenyl's quick to pick up on the Autarch's lead, as well. "Opal Blade! The time has come to fill your pockets - we're leaving!"
The raid on the tomb of Yerrasa was a success - the tomb itself has been damaged beyond use, many of the necrons inside destroyed whilst they slumbered. Several elements of the Isifret Dynasty's leadership, including the Overlord, have been killed, and those that were not have been forced to flee, likely to the lesser tomb complex hidden on Moravian.
Though the Opal Blade's lower ranks have experienced some attrition, many of Archon Tenyl's elites escaped unscathed, and he is confident in his ability to restore his numbers rapidly. He is satisfied with the completion of his objectives, and, in accordance with your agreement, will now, on one occasion, strike where and when you request.
The Yau-Fenni Warhost has likewise taken some casualties, although to a relatively small degree given the scale of the conflict. The Autarch does not feel these casualties will meaningfully diminish the Warhost's capabilities when it comes to the targeted raids they usually conduct.
The nature of prophecy is that seeing the future frequently leads to changing it - and by bringing to bear the might of four armies upon the necron tombs of Yerrasa, you have surely changed fate in some unanticipated way.
[ ] The machine cultists of Augunite turn their attention to Yerrasa, seeking to understand what it was that was so sought-after on the long-desolate moon.
[ ] The necrons of Moravian awaken and mobilise even faster than anticipated, their fell fleets darkening the skies of the Parulax Expanse immediately.
[ ] These echoes of ancient conflict, relived in this new and dark era, travel inexorably through the dreams of ork-kind, drawing their kind to the sector in great numbers.
As usual, the vote is not yet open
[X] Call the Autarch to you and finish the Archon's mission. The damage your strike force has inflicted upon the necron leadership already is significant - completing the destruction of the court's highest leaders would leave the Dynasty leaderless and aimless.
It doesn't take much to get in touch with Veldris - he's not far, indeed, and in the process of wrangling the warhost back into a mobile formation when you contact him.
"Veldris."
"Yes, Farseer?"
"The Overlord is dead, and we've identified the likely location of the remaining High Crypteks. If possible, we'd like your help to dig them out."
"Very well, Farseer. We've done plenty of damage as is - to say nothing of the Orks. We'll prepare to join you."
"In case you happen to run into any Crypteks or other nobles of note before we meet up, try to preserve their heads. The Archon's building a little collection."
"How quaint," Veldris notes. "I suppose he wants to hang them on the wall of his throne room, or something. You don't foresee issues with him doing this?"
"Mm," you say, noncommittal. In truth, you're not entirely sure letting the drukhari get their hands on necron technology is the best of ideas - but the drukhari already possess great collections of aeldari technology from before the Fall, and terribly devious devices of their own devising, as well. Necron technology wouldn't be an enormous leap in power for them, as it would be for the mon'keigh, assuming they're able to reverse engineer it at all. And even in that case, the nature of drukhari politics would prevent widespread adoption for a long time.
But the Archon is here at your side, and dedicating his forces towards a goal that is to your mutual benefit, so for now, and for the imminent future, it's not something you're inclined to concern yourself with.
Veldris doesn't sound entirely convinced by your entirely unconvincing answer, but you only hear a hint of a sigh before he continues. "Very well, then."
"There's a large chamber, we believe a workshop, about halfway between us," you tell him, and he hums in agreement with your unstated suggestion.
"We'll about-face and meet you there, then. You probably don't need the warning, but keep an eye out for Wraiths - there seem to be a fair few more active now than on our way in."
You thank him for the suggestion, end the call, and point with your blade down the blackstone halls, towards the Autarch's location.
"We'll link up with the Warhost shortly," you announce, to an audience that doesn't outwardly show relief but nonetheless seems to perk up slightly at the news. "We move."
Your group cut through another pair of Tomb Scarabs on their way to the workshop, another of the Archon's kabalites cut down screaming by their gauss flayers in the process, and arrive at the great chamber only to find it not only empty, but visibly stripped bare.
There are inactive anti-gravity cradles, benches of tools picked clean, swirling clouds of recently disturbed dust still dancing in the half-light. The necrons must have already seized whatever canoptek constructs and artefacts were here.
If so, to what end?
"There's nothing here," one kabalite moans. "Shouldn't there be-"
And then Belelon cries out "below us!", and draws his sword - an action quickly mimicked by the rest of the party, as the first slicing claws of the canoptek wraiths phase through the floor around your feet.
A flex of psychic will lifts you off the ground completely, your fellow Seers joining you, and when the wraiths crawl further through the floor to chase you they quickly find themselves beset by attacks from all sides. Their phasing devices protect them from the bulk of that fire, but that's a problem you've solved more than a few times already today.
Reality twists to your whim, and unphased becomes phased, becomes hopelessly stuck in the floor, joints locked up and exposed components vulnerable, and then a dozen wraiths are reduced to twisted scrap.
The Archon kicks a severed head across the floor. "A more advanced ambush than we've previously seen. Irukos?"
"A guiding intelligence, perhaps," the trueborn concedes, swapping his power sword for the engram device. "A local cryptek, I suspect. Reading data from these engrams is not a simple process, especially not under these circumstances, with this equipment."
After a few seconds, he spits out a string of mon'keigh curse words, and then he continues unabated. "But as far as I can tell, there's a stasis chamber nearby set to be inhabited by one Revenant Khedet. It seems he's responsible for the management of the canoptek constructs, likely explaining the proximity of his chamber to the workshop."
"And if he's already awake, he might have taken command of whatever constructs were here to defend himself."
"How should I know?" Irukos sighs, stands, and puts his gear away. "His stasis chamber isn't far, and there's a second canoptek mustering chamber not much further, if you'd like to search there instead."
"Do you think there'll be any good loot in his chamber?" one of the kabalites asks, and a rousing discussion erupts around the particular merits of looting technology from the necrons, when the drukhari already possess great quantities of incredible machines themselves.
Some sterling points are made both for and against, and a part of you can't help but feel Tenne would be delighted to participate in such a debate, but you can't bring yourself to care about that when there are still enemies to destroy.
On the periphery of your awareness, you can sense dozens of aeldari souls drawing closer, the march of the Warhost barely audible above the drukhari's squabbles. Their arrival doesn't go unnoticed, though, the Opal Blade quickly presenting ranks when they, too, hear the movement, only to relax as the warriors of the Silver Fury enter, catapults raised.
"I apologise for our delay," Veldris announces from somewhere behind the wave of warriors. "There was a Reanimator."
When the Fire Dragons sweep in on the heels of the Dire Avengers, their fusion blasters still faintly shimmering behind a heat haze, you quickly intuit what happened to said Reanimator.
"I must admit," Veldris continues, slipping through the crowd of warriors to join you and the Archon. "I was expecting more constructs. The orks are drawing a lot of attention, but even so, we're facing little resistance. Almost too little."
"There'll be more," the Archon notes. "There were canopteks in this chamber not too long ago, and they're not here now - they didn't cut through your forces or ours on the way out, so they can only be deeper in."
Veldris hums in agreement, and follows the Archon's gaze to the third and final entrance to this room - the one that leads further below, towards the cryptek's stasis chamber and the deeper storerooms of the tomb.
"Well," the Autarch smirks after a moment of silent contemplation. "No reason to give them more time to prepare. Shall we?"
The Archon's forces are more than happy to let the Aspect Warriors of Yau-Fenni take the lead as you continue further into the tomb complex, but the pace the Dire Avengers set is no less punishing than that of the kabalites, and the attempts of the necron tomb to repel you no less present.
Dire Avengers and Dark Reapers gun down shambling necron warriors and Striking Scorpions carve through wraith constructs the moment they phase into reality. A canoptek spyder emerges, surrounded by a writhing mass of tomb scarabs, and a wave of dragonfire reduces them to so much molten, bubbling necrodermis slag in a flash of heat and light. The Wraithguard are an implacable bulwark at your back, not just driving away any necrons seeking to attack from behind, but more than happy to spare a moment to obliterate any remnants you leave in your wake, banishing the fallen necrons to the Warp, presumably forevermore.
Along the way, you take a moment to trade nodes with Veldris and Spiritseer Tachord, warning them of the anti-warp device that broke Sauri's warmask, and describing the Overlord you slew in his stasis chamber. They, in turn, tell you of their own progress - laying waste to several canoptek workshops, a vehicle bay, and hundreds of lesser warriors in their own stasis chambers. And they tell you of a psychomancer - a cryptek who fled their march after his neuro-disruptor weapons failed to impress the warriors of the Wraithhost.
With Irukos yelling directions from the back, your warriors quickly make their way to the cryptek's stasis chamber, only to find it, too, has already been abandoned, and after only a few moment's deliberation you move on once more, to the cryptek's next likely location - another canoptek chamber.
When you arrive, the chamber's great stone doors have already been slammed shut, a featureless blackstone monolith barring the path. Irukos worms through the crowd of warriors to take up a position just to the side of the door, where a computer terminal of some sort sits nestled in a slight alcove.
You take the briefest of moments to foresee what you'll see when you open the door, and realise quite quickly that a mistake has been made. The maps Irukos had provided indicated this place was where many soldiers were gathered, and the drukhari had labelled it as another canoptek storage chamber.
But it's not a storeroom, you realise, and quickly vocalise to your comrades. It's a mustering point. Soldiers aren't gathered here for storage - they're gathered here when they set off for war.
And the far wall is dominated by an enormous gate of living stone, one that, in your visions, hums with a psychic resonance any aeldari would recognise. A webway gate - a Dolmen Gate, rather, a necron-build tool that allowed for temporary intrusions into the webway, that let them cross the void between one Dolmen Gate and another in mere moments, no matter how far apart they were in reality.
That realisation is important, but a second, more tactically pressing realisation follows quickly on its heels - the chamber is bustling with necron crypto thralls, lumbering mechanical drones conveying stocks of machinery and artifice you can't identify through the gate and to some faraway place.
Well, probably not too far away a place - there is only one other necron site known to you in the Parulax Expanse, and what you know of it indicates it would be the most likely place for the crypteks to flee to, with the tomb of Yerrasa compromised so completely.
Standing at the foot of the gate, in your vision, are two necron figures, crypteks adorned in all the robes and finery their station must demand of them, watching the procession of cryptothralls go.
One is a plasmancer, you guess, from the vast panoply of wargear settled upon his shoulders, and the staff burning with destructive light. The other, you're less certain of - necron crypteks rarely feel the need to beholden themselves to any sort of standard when they design new warforms and modifications. The wasp-like abdomen in place of legs and the two long tendrils draping from the back could be a deliberate attempt to mimic the form and posture of the nightbringer, or it could be a mere flight of fancy.
Either way, you make note to treat them with care. No cryptek is a complete pushover - and these have had time to prepare.
Dolmen Gates, you know, are dangerous and unstable means of transport - the webway itself rebels against their existence, its pathways constricting whenever it senses a Dolmen Gate breach so that intruders can be squeezed out, and utilising them is ever a race to get from one Gate to the next before the constricting fabric of reality crushes you to a fine paste.
You spare a few moments to convey this vision to the Autarch and the Archon, neither of whom flinches at your explanation, or your illusory depiction of the crowd of cryptothralls lining up to carry the cryptek's loot
"They're cutting their losses and running," the Archon muses, sounding surprised. "I didn't think the necrons would give up so easily."
"You killed their rulers, didn't you?" Veldris points out. "They likely see it as a better use of their time to retreat, rally, and come to seek revenge at a later date, than to die defending a fortress that has already been breached."
"I suppose," the Archon concedes. "No matter. This is a good opportunity to seize two more cryptek heads - and whatever the thralls are carrying, I suppose."
"Before we get too far ahead of ourselves, we should consider one issue," Irukos interjects, from his position at the terminal beside the door. "Loathe as I am to admit it, the necrons understand their own technology more than I do - this door is locked, and I cannot coerce it into opening."
"Well, that's a solvable problem," Veldris says, with an air of indifference. "Now, Farseer - how far away would you say these Crypteks are?"
Blackstone is many things - physically durable, psychically resonant, mildly soul-consuming in high concentrations.
One thing it is not is impervious to concentrated fire from several dozen fusion blasters and fire pikes. The blast leaves the door a glowing misshapen lump of molten rock and the warriors of Yau-Fenni see this as no obstacle at all, skipping across the white-hot surface so quickly they don't have time to burn before they've moved on, guns screaming all the while.
The cryptothralls - or rather the crypteks, for the thralls themselves have little going on in the thinking department, respond quickly to the sudden and violent intrusion, and suddenly every cryptothrall without something in their arms is deploying blades and charging into combat whilst their belaboured companions instead hurry towards the Dolmen Gate.
A squad of Warp Spiders pop into existence between the gate and the fleeing cryptothralls, powerblades and death spinners unleashing for just a moment upon the crypteks - but by the time the necrons turn, to better situate themselves against the unexpected attack from behind, the Warp Spiders are gone again.
And with their backs turned, neither necron sees the sudden approach of the Swooping Hawks until they're being kicked in the back of the head, and close range laser fire from a circling squad of elites distracts them enough for the Warp Spiders to return.
Both squads of Aspect Warriors are lead by Exarchs, and both Exarchs have supplemented the usual armament of their shrine with power swords - and now, standing side by side, Hawk and Spider launch into a furious melee against the crypteks, their fellows a swirling mass of pulsing lasers and swirling monowire that puts a harsh damper on anyone else's attempts to approach.
Anyone else but the Incubi, who at their master's behest have charged across the room to throw themselves into the fray as well, lending their skill at arms to the Exarchs. You leave Veldris to manage that dance of blades and death, turning your own attention to the rest of the battle.
Cryptothralls are not smart opponents, or skilled opponent, or even particularly well-armed opponents - a clumsy scythe blade being made of necrodermis didn't make it any less clumsy, and the energy weapons contained within their shining eyes burned and blackened but could not breach the wraithbone armour of your warriors, at least not in a single shot.
But they were sturdy, and numerous, and moving in a great tide, and the rest of your warriors were giving their all to cut through the rush of oncoming machines. It is here you lend your psychic might, bolstering your allies in body and spirit just as Ismerelda works to do quite the opposite to your foes.
Initially, it goes well - your warriors are disciplined, the kabalites provide ample covering fire and watch the far flanks, the weight of your psychic presence amply tips the scales, and every time your heavy weapons fire, fusion blasters and wraithcannons and reaper launchers alike exact a heavy toll.
Then the Dolmen Gate makes a sound like grinding stone, and a giant mechanical spider appears - tall as a Wraithknight, towering over everyone present. It carries no weapons that you can see, but with sheer size and weight alone you imagine it can deal a lot of damage regardless.
There's another cryptek, too, standing atop the mechanical beast and brandishing a staff that crackles with green lightning. The seraptek's master, no doubt.
Its mere arrival casts a deathly silence across the battlefield - not literally, of course, there's too much gunfire and screaming for that, but mentally. It's a far greater foe than you expected to face within the tomb complex, an enemy better fought by a tank column or your precious Wraithknights.
"SERAPTEK! BRING IT DOWN!" Veldris screams, and with that the single moment of panic ends. Several dozen warriors turn their guns its way, and it ignores all of them as it launches into a titanic charge, stepping right over the furball at the gate (although you do see it swat aside one Swooping Hawk like an insect as it passes) and rushing through the crowd of cryptothralls towards you.
And not the general 'you', the aeldari force as a whole, either - you. The cryptek riding atop the seraptek is pointing his staff at you, his eye boring into yours and his focus unshakeable.
Fusion blasters fire, leaving glowing red scars across the construct's armoured surface. Wraithcannons fire, and bursts of Warp energy explode like fireworks across its armour, but the thick necrodermis serves to slow down both - your forces could fell it, given time, you suspect, but they won't get that time unaided.
Previously, you had been endeavouring to restrain yourself - good practice in general, because to do otherwise would merely increase the odds of one of Her demons attempting to seek you out, and more specifically so you would still have some energy in reserve in case of emergencies.
This, you feel, qualifies.
A wave of telekinetic force, nothing more than a vast psychic bludgeon, sweeps across the room. Almost as a side-effect, dozens of cryptothralls are knocked backwards or thrown off their feet, but the bulk of that force is directed at the seraptek. It, too, staggers back, almost freezes as you tighten your grip around it.
And then the cryptek riding its back raises one hand. There's a flash of recognition in your mind, followed a sliver of a second later by a flash of light and wrongness, and your telekinetic field unravels like worn-out fabric, the seraptek lurching forward as your resistance evaporates.
It's a deeply unpleasant experience, like a lash across your mind as the null field counteracts your spell. But it fades after a moment - and your war mask does not, which means the area of the null field can't be that large.
Even as you ponder that, the seraptek steadies itself and resumes its assault, but even the moment of extra time is enough for the warriors of Yau-Fenni. The next volley of fusion blasts is more precise, more targeted, and they strike directly at joints, one titanic front leg all but disintegrating from concentrated firepower. It lurches forward again, stumbling to regain its balance, and catches a third volley as it tries to stand. This, at last, is enough to dislodge its rider, and though the cryptek drifts down from the construct's back, buoyed by some anti-gravity device, this takes his focus away long enough that you feel no trepidation when you throw out another blast of psychic energy, long chains of pseudo-lightning cutting down the cryptothralls who had pushed in on the flank whilst the Fire Dragons turned their attentions elsewhere.
The seraptek construct rises as best it can with a leg missing, and immediately begins enacting its' revenge - your warriors are nimble, yes, fast moving and small targets for such a towering construct, but there are still more cryptothralls, and room to manoeuvre amidst the mass of soldiers is in short supply. More than a few of Yau-Fenni's finest are crushed against the floor or flung across the room.
At this point, it makes little difference. As fierce as the seraptek is, with one front limb destroyed and the others being rapidly torn apart, it simply can't kill your warriors fast enough to matter. As more limbs give out, it topples, writhing and flailing until one Fire Dragon melts a hole in its exposed belly and delivers a melta-bomb to its innards.
The resulting flash of light and heat is held at bay by a hasty psychic shield, and the Dragons without pause turn their fire back upon the dwindling horde of cryptothralls.
The cryptek, thrown from his mount, is rapidly surrounded by Veldris and the Dire Avengers at the forefront, and in what seems to be no more than the space between blinks the cryptek is disarmed, then disarmed again in the more literal sense, and then brought to the ground.
At the far end of the room, three Hawks and a Spider lay dead, but the Hawk Exarch holds one necron skull triumphantly. The second necron skull - and corresponding body, it seems, are missing. Escaped through the Dolmen Gate, perhaps, with the lion's share of whatever supplies and equipment they'd hoped to flee with.
No matter. Two additional crypteks are dead, a rare and dangerous heavy construct lies in smouldering ruins, and the tomb complex itself, according to the Autarch, has suffered greatly at both his hands and the hands of the orks. The Archon cannot rightly complain about the bounty of skulls he has harvested, and your strategic goals have been met with success.
A dozen of your warriors lay dead around the room, and you doubt they were the only casualties the Autarch suffered on his march. More are wounded, and although they at least should recover at the Shrine of Isha, they will be unable to take to the field for some time.
Though not cheap, this was a victory. And it could have been much worse.
"We're unlikely to find any more Crypteks lingering," you tell the Archon, as the dead and wounded are collected, cradled gently by the tireless Wraithhost. "It is time to make our exit."
"I should think so," he agrees, with one last glance at the Dolmen Gate. "But they'll be back. They won't let this injury slide."
"No." You don't need prophetic visions to tell you that much. "But they won't find us easy prey to catch. And very soon they're likely to be busy with all manner of other invaders."
"Ah, yes. The servants of Chaos. Are they likely to intrude upon the ruins of Moravian?"
"I suspect they'll stumble across them. Whether they deem them of sufficient interest to enter is another matter."
"Well. In any case, if you do happen to collect any additional skulls, don't hesitate to reach out."
"What about the orks?" Veldris asks. "Should we tell them we're departing?"
"Let them have their fun," the Archon suggests. "Either they demolish the tomb or the necrons wipe them out. The galaxy is better off either way."
The Autarch looks back to you, and you shrug. "That is exactly what we brought them for."
"Well... fair enough." The Autarch turns, and yells so loudly his voice echoes through the empty chamber. "Our work is done, warriors! Recover the fallen, and let us leave this place of death."
Tenyl's quick to pick up on the Autarch's lead, as well. "Opal Blade! The time has come to fill your pockets - we're leaving!"
The raid on the tomb of Yerrasa was a success - the tomb itself has been damaged beyond use, many of the necrons inside destroyed whilst they slumbered. Several elements of the Isifret Dynasty's leadership, including the Overlord, have been killed, and those that were not have been forced to flee, likely to the lesser tomb complex hidden on Moravian.
Though the Opal Blade's lower ranks have experienced some attrition, many of Archon Tenyl's elites escaped unscathed, and he is confident in his ability to restore his numbers rapidly. He is satisfied with the completion of his objectives, and, in accordance with your agreement, will now, on one occasion, strike where and when you request.
The Yau-Fenni Warhost has likewise taken some casualties, although to a relatively small degree given the scale of the conflict. The Autarch does not feel these casualties will meaningfully diminish the Warhost's capabilities when it comes to the targeted raids they usually conduct.
The nature of prophecy is that seeing the future frequently leads to changing it - and by bringing to bear the might of four armies upon the necron tombs of Yerrasa, you have surely changed fate in some unanticipated way.
[ ] The machine cultists of Augunite turn their attention to Yerrasa, seeking to understand what it was that was so sought-after on the long-desolate moon.
[ ] The necrons of Moravian awaken and mobilise even faster than anticipated, their fell fleets darkening the skies of the Parulax Expanse immediately.
[ ] These echoes of ancient conflict, relived in this new and dark era, travel inexorably through the dreams of ork-kind, drawing their kind to the sector in great numbers.
As usual, the vote is not yet open
Somic
It's meow or never
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Hmmm. The question with the third option is, can we still direct Darkrippa to crush and collect concentrations of Orks and then yeet them at our enemies? It would be kind of a dangerous balance, I feel.
On the other hand, letting monkeys into the ruins poses little immediate consequence, since the Necrons are both already awake and kinda devastated, but it being an option alongside the other two has me worried.
On the other hand, letting monkeys into the ruins poses little immediate consequence, since the Necrons are both already awake and kinda devastated, but it being an option alongside the other two has me worried.
- Pronouns
- Reader
woo! -whipes sweat off brow- we made a lot of good calls. brought everyone, preserved psychic power for later, followed through on taking out there leadership, accompanied the Archon. we did real good taking the Necron out early.
Dat their big old chaos space hulk be a rite proper vessel dat any Ork be proud to krump for.
@Faith brilliant update. engaging and delightfully choreographed fight scenes, excellent monologue explaining things, and the end where they just leave the Orks to Krump to their hearts content is absolutely fantastic. bravo 👏👏👏.
yeah no. we don't need the Mechanis of this sector taking the giant spider bot and turning it into a titan, or looting any Necron scrap the Orks miss.
a few turns without the Necron roaming the galaxy to follow up on the ideas we discussed before is probably more beneficial, especially since we don't want them crashing into anywhere important just yet.
this however has promise. The Necron know Orks played a role in the destruction of their tomb, and there unlikely to be able to distinguish one Waagh from another. this gives them plenty of targets to spend their strength against.
Dat their big old chaos space hulk be a rite proper vessel dat any Ork be proud to krump for.
@Faith brilliant update. engaging and delightfully choreographed fight scenes, excellent monologue explaining things, and the end where they just leave the Orks to Krump to their hearts content is absolutely fantastic. bravo 👏👏👏.
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K von Carstein
Likes to go for a walk
- Location
- Belgium
- Pronouns
- He
[ ] These echoes of ancient conflict, relived in this new and dark era, travel inexorably through the dreams of ork-kind, drawing their kind to the sector in great numbers.
- Pronouns
- Reader
Well yeah. They always do, we just don't normally accomplish this much all at once. A bunch of any of these happenings stacks up pretty comparably with our overall actions from turns 1 through 3 causing the sector fleet to show up.
Varder
Tired Cultist
- Location
- Hell
[ ] The machine cultists of Augunite turn their attention to Yerrasa, seeking to understand what it was that was so sought-after on the long-desolate moon.
This seems like the easiest to handle. They are already half-crippled, they are about to engage Chaos full-scale and can be more easily predicted.
This seems like the easiest to handle. They are already half-crippled, they are about to engage Chaos full-scale and can be more easily predicted.
- Pronouns
- Reader
No. The Orks are the easiest to handle because there everyone's problem. At the end of the day, this is still a fairly intact group of tech savants aligned with the imperium of man getting access to the tech of the most technologically advanced race in the galaxy and potentially trading the less interesting bits to the empire or turning it against us during the vault raid and escape.
The Orks on the other hand will come, and they'll fight chaos to try and claim that space hulk. They'll draw fire from Necron fleets interested in vengeance and unable to tell the difference between one Waagh and another Waagh. The imperium will fight them, spreading their fleets thin, and there is no chance of them knowing about the vault before the battle is underway, leaving them to trickle in as random hostiles falling on the flanks of all our other enemies and preventing a cohesive attempt to break past darkrippa, which buys us time. They certainly won't be unified, which means they won't be working together deliberately.
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- Pronouns
- Reader
[X] These echoes of ancient conflict, relived in this new and dark era, travel inexorably through the dreams of ork-kind, drawing their kind to the sector in great numbers.
Waaghs for everyone!
you get Waagh!
and you get Waagh!
You get all the Waaghs you can spend thralls fighting!
Waaghs for everyone!
somewhatLazy
Serial Procrastinator
- Location
- lurking
[X] These echoes of ancient conflict, relived in this new and dark era, travel inexorably through the dreams of ork-kind, drawing their kind to the sector in great numbers.
We want as much little-c chaos as we can get to keep all the major players distracted and tarpitted, and there's nothing for little-c chaos like the Boyz.
We want as much little-c chaos as we can get to keep all the major players distracted and tarpitted, and there's nothing for little-c chaos like the Boyz.
MordredRaal
Agitating
- Pronouns
- She/They
[X] These echoes of ancient conflict, relived in this new and dark era, travel inexorably through the dreams of ork-kind, drawing their kind to the sector in great numbers.
K von Carstein
Likes to go for a walk
- Location
- Belgium
- Pronouns
- He
[X] These echoes of ancient conflict, relived in this new and dark era, travel inexorably through the dreams of ork-kind, drawing their kind to the sector in great numbers.
- Location
- California
[X] The machine cultists of Augunite turn their attention to Yerrasa, seeking to understand what it was that was so sought-after on the long-desolate moon.
[X] These echoes of ancient conflict, relived in this new and dark era, travel inexorably through the dreams of ork-kind, drawing their kind to the sector in great numbers.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] The machine cultists of Augunite turn their attention to Yerrasa, seeking to understand what it was that was so sought-after on the long-desolate moon.