Well Yes, Yes I do.
Sarnakh the Sunderer leaned forward on his command throne aboard the Will of the Phaeron. "Play the transmission again," he ordered Comms. "We wish to see it in its entirety."
"Aye, my lord," Comms responded. He turned to his holo-lectern and rapidly keyed in a command. A vid began to play on the holo-screen. It was short, and not truly coherent, but its message was clear. It was a call to arms for Imperial forces.
The Sunderer leaned forward, deep in thought. This was serious. Individually weak though they were, the humans were extremely numerous and capable of slowing down the Necron revivification process if they put their mind to it.
He was still contemplating his next move three-point-six-four rotations later when Rezon stalked onto the bridge. The Praetorian stood tall, nearly as tall as he was, but she still fell short of his daughter Kani.
Sarnakh rose from the command dias and held his claws to his throat in salute. Rezon bowed in response, then spoke. "Honorable Phaeron, I bear for you a message."
"We shall hear it, Praetorian," the Sunderer allowed.
"It is for you only, Honorable Phaeron," she responded curtly.
"Then we shall hear it in private," Sarnakh grated. He waved a hand, and the two vanished in a site-to-site teleportation beam, whisking them away to the Phaeron's private audience chambers.
Sarnakh settled into the throne. "My heiress and Vargard shall attend these proceedings, if the Triarch allows it."
He waved a claw, and the imposing forms of Kani and Chronozak shimmered into being on either side of him. "Proceed, Praetorian."
"The Praetoriate has declared an emergency revivifaication and biotransference to combat the predicted Imperial crusade into Necrontyr holdings. It is suspected that other galactic powers will also be performing their own force buildups in response to this crusade, and the Krork will be drawn to the fight regardless. This dynasty is hereby ordered to render service to the Necrontyr race and the Silent King."
The Phaeron leaned forward and steepled his claws. "We shall consult amongst ourselves. In the meantime, await our response." With that, he and his cohort vanished from view, leaving the Praetorian alone in the chamber.
"Therek!" The Sunderer boomed, striding into the aethermancer's workshop. "You and your cohorts are hereby ordered to advance construction of new vessels and war machines, and accelerate revivification processes."
Therek's head popped up with a protective mask on, and promptly admonished the Phaeron. "My lord, you will kindly not barge into my lab without first giving me the chance to deactivate or neuter some of my more volatile experiments. It would not do well for you to be damaged by carelessness."
Sarnakh growled and fingered his warscythe. "Have care how you speak, Thunderseeker. I have received orders from the Praetoriate and that has not put me in the best of moods! Now, you are hereby ordered to advance construction of new vessels and war machines, and accelerate revivification processes."
"My lord has received orders contrary to his preferences?" Therek asked.
"Warp-hells, Therek, just carry them out!"
Therek bowed deeply, accidentally zapping a nearby scarab as he did so. "As you wish, my lord."
"Thank you, Thunderseeker. See it done." He turned on his heel and began to stalk out, but paused. "Therek, what was the name of the Cryptek who led the development of the Triarch Strider?"
"Envalish, my lord. Why?"
"When he finds targets for the biotransference, tell him...to be creative." With that, the Phaeron walked out the door and into the hall, cloak snapping in his wake.
Therek smirked, or would have. "Aye, milord."
That took far longer to write than it should have taken me.
Expect more vow-specific lore to follow upon completion.
Anyway, the vow proper!
I, Daimyo-Phaeron Lenoch, rise to the challenge of E Tenebrae Lux for the glory of the Necrontyr Forum and the Liber! I vow to complete one (1) Illuminor Szeras, worth one hundred and twenty points, and two (2) squads of Warriors worth 110 points each, for a grand total of three hundred and forty points, on or before the first of September 2019. Success shall bring glory to myself, the Liber, and the Silent King; failure shall see me doomed to wear the badge of the Oathbreaker till year's end.
Edited by Daimyo-Phaeron Lenoch, 03 June 2019 - 01:57 AM.
photos would be useful