Their number is legion, and their name is death. Sixty million years ago, the Necrons destroyed all life in the galaxy and fell dormant. Now they rise again to wipe the galaxy free of the scourge of life. As the Necron Warriors stride across the battlefield, whole worlds fall to the scythe of Kaelis Ra. The C’tan, star gods and masters of the Necrons, demand the life force of their enemies to sate their appetites. A shroud of doom has fallen upon the galaxy once more, as the Necrons strive to silence the clamor of life.
We are less than cattle to these beings, chattel to be cast aside, consumed or made sport with for their pleasure. There is not one amongst them that would pay heed to a world of Man as I would to an ant on my boot.
-Inquisitor Kessel
The Necron lord stood silhouetted against the setting sun. Unholy arcs of energy blazed from its hands, casting its features into harsh relief. A cool implacable logic could be seen in its eyes. It was sure to strike fear into the hearts of its enemies. Its warscythe held in one hand, it held a strange orb in the other. surrounded by a circle of our dead, none dared approach it.
The krak missile sped towards the Nightbringer, passing through it harmlessly. With a single sweep of its mighty scythe, an entire squad of soldiers fell, shorn in half, their armor as useless as cloth against the god’s terrible onslaught. Tanks collapsed under its might, and nothing could hold it back. A dozen soldiers rushed at it, only to be consumed in flames which spouted out of the ground. Truly, it was a god of death, invincible and unstoppable.
When the flayed ones began to clamber from the ground, some soldiers fell to their knees, while others ran. As they clambered out of the ground, they dripped. Their metallic forms were covered in flesh and skin, in a hideous parody of the living. Huge talons protruded from their hands, and they were twisted, almost deformed. As they fell upon the enemy, screams and the sounds of rending flesh carried over the entire battlefield as more abominations rose from the Earth.
The monolith floated over the battlefield, silent as death itself. Huge craters appeared wherever its main gun struck, and secondary batteries vaporized whole squads of troops. From a glowing portal on one side of it, Necron warriors strode forth and assaulted their opponents. The monolith seemed unstoppable, its weapons pulverizing anything that dared stand in its way.
The Necron warriors seemed unstoppable. As they strode across the battlefield, their weapons always found their mark. When a Necron warrior fell, it simply stood up again, continuing its hideous assault. Those foolish enough to try fighting hand to hand were snapped like twigs and tossed aside like inconsequential playthings.
--- Dawn of War II. And god help me, if the necrontyr aren’t in it, I will summon my warscythe and kick ass as a pariah.
WTF? Tyranids would be destroyed by the Nightbringer in about 2 seconds. The Lizardmen can’t even begin to match a Necron warrior. There’s a theory that the C’tan control the Tyranids.
--- Dawn of War II. And god help me, if the necrontyr aren’t in it, I will summon my warscythe and kick ass as a pariah.
"WTF? Tyranids would be destroyed by the Nightbringer in about 2 seconds. The Lizardmen can’t even begin to match a Necron warrior. There’s a theory that the C’tan control the Tyranids."
Flavor is more desirable then power. Thats why I like Batman more then Superman.
The Deus Ex Machina always favors flavor over power. Thats why Batman gets a piece of kryptonite.
My Lord, I must humbly choose to disagree with you in your most august of view’s. The God Nightbringer, in all his majesty, is but one being. No creature of mortal flesh may stand against such a mighty being and yet, I feel you underestimate the chittering tide. The Tyranids are not endless, but their numbers are most certainly countless, far more so than the ranks of the might Necrons in all their glory. Whilst our masters of cold metal and silent purpose are immortal beyond death and ageless beyond time, the tide of flesh which makes up the Hive Mind under the direction of the Norn Queen’s would take far more than a simple two seconds to slay. Such a war would be difficult, and battles would draw out into the weeks.
There is no doubt over the victor, only the method.
Agung. Necrondermis, the living metal and flesh of the Nectontyr and that worn by the Star Gods is in fact greek for 'Corpse Skin' in a literal translation. A lot of names that show up in sci-fi and fantasy have a relation to older earth languages, as most of the writers study such things for fun.
My Lord, I must once again humbly disagree with you, what proof is there that the Outsider who sleep’s in the void between the stars is in control of this race from beyond our universe? This reality?
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