skoffs wrote:
... still say Gloom Prism should have been an equipment option for Lords/Overlords.
>:/
(or maybe for Lychguard or Praetorians, so they could have really been the true successors to Pariahs)

At the moment, the HS slots are too valuable to fill with three separate units of Spyders just to give yourself some extra psychic defense.

 Galorian wrote:

 NecronLord3 wrote:
The C'tan are the Necrons technological counter to psychic attacks. Raw unharnessed power of a solar deity defeated the old ones.

You do realize that the Necrons canonically do have technological means of countering warp powers, right?

Hell, you only need look as far as Cadia (you know, the system that's actively pushing back the Eye of Terror from its vicinity thanks to the ancient Necron tech buried under its surface?) to see them in action.

 skoffs wrote:
... still say Gloom Prism should have been an equipment option for Lords/Overlords.
>:/
(or maybe for Lychguard or Praetorians, so they could have really been the true successors to Pariahs)

At the moment, the HS slots are too valuable to fill with three separate units of Spyders just to give yourself some extra psychic defense.

 Jaceevoke wrote:
What is your guys opinion on running Veilteks with 20 man strong necron warrior units. Is the speed worth the inherent risks?

I agree on the Spyders - kitting them with Fab claws and GP get's expensive. I reckon that would only be worthwhile if you were going to separate them into individual units - which is easily doable if you play double CAD. Although they are easier to take down, you get more flexibility and a bigger GP bubble.

So you have the Lith dominating each side of the Board, in which case you may not need GA transports? Except you'd need to have the transports to keep the troops alive in T1. Hmmm. Might need to play with a list - my instinct is saying this is an 1850+ level strategy, because below that you'd lose too much mobility? Same number of objectives, but too many points invested in slow moving Liths.

ShadarLogoth wrote:

So you have the Lith dominating each side of the Board, in which case you may not need GA transports? Except you'd need to have the transports to keep the troops alive in T1. Hmmm. Might need to play with a list - my instinct is saying this is an 1850+ level strategy, because below that you'd lose too much mobility? Same number of objectives, but too many points invested in slow moving Liths.

Yeah, it's definitly 1850+, but I was thinking only one Lith.

Basically, a Lith, Two GA's running out as arms in front, with a couple of Tomb Stalkers hanging around behind. Spyders and and an initially small investment of scarabs behind the Lith. Grab Center hard. Troops hide, come on from reserves. Use the GAs to house a couple of Lancetek Squads. This way your are housing a serious amount of death behind AV 13 3/4+ Cover saves. From center with the amount of real estate you can cover you can easily touch any mid board objective with two GAs. Then you have the Mono teleport to grab some warriors for a late game cap of center if needed.

This is the first thing that came to mind:

Spoiler:

HQ:
175 Zandy
90 Generic Olord

RCs:
200 Lancetek x 4 Chronotek + 1 Solar Pulse
200 Lancetek x 4 Chronotek + 1 Solar Pulse

Elites:
165 Heavy Gauss Stalker
160 Particle Stalker

Troops:
180 Warriors x 5 + GA
180 Warriors x 5 + GA

FA:
45 Scarabs x 3

HS:
200 Mono
195 TS x 3 FC x3 GP x 1

I think that's 1790? I would likely want to push it to 2k, as it needs some flesh. Its troops light, in a way, but those GAs are pretty beastly, and the Warriors will hide most of the game if needed, kind of NS style. I could grab a Barge for the other Olord, maybe beef him up a bit. That's actually not a bad call....

 skoffs wrote:
So, looking at the way things are stacking up for us post FAQ, what would the top competitive builds be now?
• CCB is super strong, and GAs became a lot more survivable, so AV13 Wall looks like a strong contender.
• with swarms being able to score and the changes to MCs, Scarab Farm might make a bit of a comeback.
• RCDI has still got some serious potential.
• not sure how Silver Tide is doing.
• is Wraith Wing still viable?
• how's CronAir looking?
• what about some other thinking outside the box list ideas (Deathmarks? Destroyers? Tomb Blades? Etc.)

Tigurius was a supreme psyker, the most accomplished of his Chapter, perhaps of any Chapter. There were others with power, of course: hooded Ezekiel, enigmatic Vel’cona, dreaded Mephiston. All were masters of their art but Tigurius was of the Ultramarines, the purest of all Space Marines, and his abilities were prodigious. Even so, he struggled to find a path through the necron shroud and the fear they propagated. His mind had touched that of the necrons. It found only infinite darkness and endless hate. There was something buried in that well of nothingness, a warning; he felt certain of it. Without knowing why, he realised it was important and that by not seeking the truth of that vision he would be allowing some heinous evil to pass. Tigurius had fortified himself, performed the many rituals and psychic mantras designed to steel his mind against any potential aggressors. The Herald was strong, far more potent than he had first realised. Tigurius resolved that this time he would be prepared. Inscribed in the ice with the pommel of his force staff were three concentric rings. Double-banded, he had also wrought sigils of warding and aversion to bind them together. Tigurius crouched down in the centre, his eyes closed, and tried to ride the darkling waves of his subconscious. Everlasting night filled his mind, the fearful voices of the humans pushed to the fringes and no longer a distraction. He went deeper and fashioned a psychic beacon that he attached around the Hood of Hellfire like a halo. Still, the darkness would not yield. Landscapes resolved below him as he soared across Damnos as a mental projection of himself. It was grey and bland, the life had left it. Was this a vision of the future? Was he witnessing their ultimate failure? Something glowed up ahead and Tigurius soared towards it. Psychic winds buffeted him, tried to throw him off course and dash him against the rising mountains on either side. He renewed his efforts, making his body into an arrow that sliced the air apart and cut through the tempest. For a moment, a tiny light shone below him but it was fleeting and quickly snuffed out. The glow ahead intensified, turning from a phosphorescent white into a sickly emerald. Too late, Tigurius realised the danger he was in and tried to flee. The light became a blazing green orb that reached for him with the tendrils of its light. One caressed the Librarian’s arm and pain, hot and incandescent, fed into his body. His heart was thundering, a dull ache filled his head and a keening wail deafened his thoughts. Must return… All his efforts were focussed on getting back but something was stretching the psychic landscape below, reshaping it so the distance became lightyears instead of leagues. Behind him, the baleful sun rose further and its tendrils grew with its influence. They lashed at the Librarian like the appendages of some ocean-borne beast, a kraken or leviathan of old. Tigurius was forced to weave and pin wheel and dart as the sparrow eludes the eagle. Though he had not moved from his chosen spot since the vigil began, he still felt the physical exertion of his efforts. Mind and body were concomitant aspects of most beings – one affected the other. At that moment as he angled through the mental sky, his mind was being put to the sternest test and it visited that self-same tension upon his body. Back at his vigil point, Tigurius had blood in his mouth and a tremor in his limbs. Maintain focus… Below, grey mountains and cities became monuments of emerald and obelisks of necron devotion and servitude. Death… The wind promised a certain end should he let the green light touch him. Only light can outrun light and in so doing bend the laws of time. That revelation prompted a response. Tigurius fashioned his arrowing form into a beam, pure and focussed and so thin it left the baleful sun in its wake. The crouching form of his physical body loomed before him, solace for his mind at last.
Tigurius came to swathed in a feverish sweat. It took a moment to regulate his breathing, another to ensure he had awakened in the physical world and this reality he inhabited was not merely verisimilitude. The vision was beyond his grasp. It lay behind the emerald sun and the Herald was preventing him from seeing it. With that obstacle alone, Tigurius might have triumphed but combined with the darkness shroud, it was near impossible. He did witness something, however. The snuffed-out light – it was a glimpse of the future. Prescience was guiding him to something, some event yet to transpire. It must be close; otherwise he would not have seen it. Somehow, the keening he had heard was a component of that possible future. Like the vision, he knew deep down that it was important. That he must act. Though his limbs protested, Tigurius got to his feet and let his instincts pull him. The mountains beckoned. Drifts that had yet to fall upon the lower regions swathed the peaks in a storm. He headed upwards, leaving his battle-brothers behind. They were deep in the valley, monitoring the Thanatos Hills. Urgency governed the Librarian’s step – there was no time to summon the other Ultramarines, no time at all.
[...]
Marshal your thoughts. Now was not the time to seek out the elusive truth and uncover the forbidding threat that had dogged him since the mission began; now was destruction and the unleashing of his psychic might. At last, he caught his prey, surrounded by a hot corona of red light. It was standing alone on a desolate ridge, surveying its majesty. Inside his mind, Tigurius coaxed a ball of lightning into being.
[...]
Psychic lightning arced from Tigurius’s force rod. It struck Voidbringer’s staff as he turned, breaking his strange torpor. A serpent of light and energy, the discharged psychics roiled down the haft of the weapon. He wrestled with it, trapping the force as it coursed across the staff and asserting dominance. Tigurius’s eyes widened. That bolt should have ripped the creature apart. Energies dissipating from the psychic attack, Voidbringer turned his attention to the Librarian facing off against him on the ridge. A nimbus of power was playing across the psychic hood the Ultramarine wore and his eyes were alive with actinic force. He held the rod out in front of him, so it formed a cross with his body as the spine. ‘Fell creature of the void, oblivion awaits you.’ Unmoved by the threat, Voidbringer only glared. The necron lord appeared… curious. Again, Tigurius was surprised and horrified at the ancient intelligence in that gaze. It was like the mechanoid was appraising a laboratorium specimen. The sensation was unsettling. Tigurius knew enough of the galaxy and its species to realise mankind’s pre-eminence was far from assured. Alien races clamoured to devour, usurp or study humans. It was part of the reason the Emperor had created Space Marines. But the necrontyr were something different, something so old and enduring that even an Adeptus Astartes as powerful as Tigurius was given pause. Victory against this aeons-old culture with all their knowledge of the universe, their advanced technology, it was… impossible. They should give in now, submit to will of the necrons and accept annihilation. They should– Stop! The psychic echo was as much a command to his own subconscious as it was to the metal monster. Reasserting his composure, Tigurius smiled mirthlessly at the Voidbringer. ‘I thought the other one was the Herald of Dismay.’ Though his rictus jaw didn’t move, a metallic voice, edged with the bitterness of millennia and abyssal deep, droned from the Voidbringer. ‘You are the one who tried to penetrate the veil.’ Tigurius nodded slowly. He felt like an insect being studied beneath a slide, but his resolve was as steel now. ‘I am your doom, creature.’ A tinny, grating sound rattled from the necron’s mouth. It was laughter, or what passed for it at least. Describing arcane sigils of warding that lingered in the air in fire, Tigurius beckoned the monster on. Voidbringer’s eyes narrowed. ‘Are you a pyromancer, worm?’ A flash of light burst from the staff before the Librarian could stop it and hit him square in the chest. Tigurius was spun off his feet and sent sprawling from the ridge. ‘Not a very good one,’ he heard the necron lord remark. Picking himself up, the Librarian scowled. ‘I think I loathed your race less when I assumed you were humourless machines.’ Fire sprang from his fingertips, reaching up towards the ridge line above and forcing the Voidbringer to retreat. Earth blackened and cracked as the flames lapped at the edge of the spur, spilling over the lip of rock rising higher and growing hotter. Snow condensed into steam in an eyeblink, scalding the air. The necron’s withdrawal didn’t last. A hazy silhouette resolved through the conflagration and the Voidbringer leapt through it, fire trailing on his ancient vestments. Ice cracked under the impact as the necron lord landed next to Tigurius. He threw out an arm, bodily catching the Librarian who was smashed aside and scraped across the ground. Blood was drooling down his lip as he rose; he could taste the tang of it in his mouth too. Voidbringer was strong, much more unyielding than the lesser constructs. And he possessed cunning beyond mere programmed response to attack and external stimulus. The necrons, especially these noble castes, were far from machines. Even artificial intelligence didn’t describe them accurately. They were something else, something vengeful and terrible. Spite, hatred, malice – the emotions were raw and tangible. Tigurius could feel them like tiny blades rubbing against his skin, like acid-edged pins in his mind. Though the creature was not a psyker – it bore no warp-aura that the Librarian could detect – the artefacts he wielded were formidable. As the Voidbringer rose, energy crackled the length of its arcane staff. It coruscated around the tip, a strange pronged sigil Tigurius had seen emblazoned on the carapace of some of the larger constructs. Darkness exuded from his body. Tendrils of night coiled around his limbs and weaved through the necron’s skeletal frame. The monster was well named. Casting about, the Voidbringer assessed the level of infiltration by the Ultramarines and acted accordingly. Shadows stirred in the mist around Tigurius as the necron constructs guarding the artillery began to animate. ‘You are no warp sorcerer,’ said the Librarian, his voice echoing with gathering power. The Voidbringer’s eye sockets flared emerald-bright and Tigurius was transported back to his narrow escape in the world-between-worlds. ‘I am more than you could ever comprehend, human. I am eternal!’ A cascade of magnesium fire coursed from the necron’s staff. Tigurius was ready for the attack and quickly fashioned a defensive sigil in the air. The arc of flame spilled against it, dispersing around the edges of a cerulean shield. It struck again, the necron throwing more force behind the blow. Staggered, Tigurius struggled to maintain his footing but repelled the energies. Sweat froze upon his brow as quickly as it formed, only to melt into hot steam a moment later. He needed to assert dominance in the duel and threw a bolt of chained lightning. Voidbringer’s body became as incorporeal as mist as the darkling mantle he wore engulfed him, rendering the psychic attack ineffective. The Night Shroud expanded, drawing strength from the blackness surrounding the artillery. Shreds of shadow became as hard as onyx as they wrapped themselves around Tigurius and all light was eclipsed. As the baleful gaze of the Voidbringer filled his vision, the Librarian felt his armour contract. Seals cracked, ancient parchments and votive charms tore and broke apart as the necron lord exerted his cruel will. ‘All is night. All is black at the end of days…’ Tigurius was fading. His mind was awash with endless darkness. It filled his senses, overwhelmed his thoughts and in that moment of near-destruction he achieved a mote of clarity. The visions, those that had dogged the Librarian since he’d made landfall on Damnos, became as clear as crystal. Death, it was death that he saw. Not the death of a world but the death of a hero. At first he believed it was him and this was, now, the instant of his demise. But the visions sharpened, just as the real world dimmed, and became more lucid. The truth was opened to him, a final torment before the end. Tigurius saw…
...
The smoke cleared. As the two Ultramarines emerged from the cloud, their objective came into sight – they’d reached Tigurius. At least they could achieve something. Another necron was coming at them out of the ice-fog and Scipio was forced to meet it. He only had time to point at the darkness crushing Tigurius. ‘Shoot it!’ Cator hesitated. ‘I might hit Lord Tigurius.’ ‘Do it now, brother!’ The shriek of chainblade teeth striking metal sounded close by. Muttering an oath to the primarch, Cator took aim into the dark veil and fired. Pain was an outmoded concept in the experiential range of the Voidbringer. He had long ago outgrown the capacity to feel the sensation. Even so, he knew he was injured and the desire for self-preservation still influenced his actions. In order to find his attacker, he had to release the pyromancer. He was nearly dead, anyway. Voidbringer resolved to eradicate this new threat and then finish what he had started. Darkness billowing about him, withdrawn from crushing the pyromancer, the necron lord searched the battlefield. He unleashed the power of his staff and the hot beam found Voidbringer’s enemy and pitched him off his feet.
‘Insect!’ The brief moment of pique cost him. When he turned his attention back to the pyromancer he saw his enemy was far from defeated, he was glowing. An aura of power surrounded Tigurius, chasing away the darkness from the necron lord’s unnatural veil. It was a magnesium-bright sun, banishing the shadow with the Librarian as its focus. Jagged forks of lightning peeled off from the aura around his body. His eyes were alive with a captured storm, mirroring the tumultuous thunderhead surging into being around him. The air cracked with the sound of his voice. ‘Now you die, machine.’ Bolt after bolt of psychic lightning hammered into the Voidbringer, who reeled beneath the blows. A crack split the monster’s chest, tore off an arm. His arcane staff spilled away on the eldritch wind summoned by the Librarian. Harsh and metallic, the necron lord roared as if in agony. Tigurius doubted it could feel, it was merely railing against its imminent demise. Even when the Voidbringer was nearly sundered, he didn’t stop – Tigurius poured it on, opening his mind to the warp and releasing its terrible power. Psychic lightning was ripping into his body, tearing away strips, burning mechanisms so old and complex that no human mind could ever hope to understand them. It was happening too fast – even the Voidbringer’s enhanced regenerative abilities couldn’t self-repair quickly enough. A mote of something cold and unpleasant flickered in his engrammic circuitry. Something akin to anxiety seized his aeons-old mind for just a moment as the necron lord contemplated the long dark. I am the master of darkness, not its slave… The self-declaration seemed pointless in the circumstances. Escape was still possible. He would not submit yet. Voidbringer would be royarch. He would self-repair, kill this worm that had stung him and assume the throne. Ankh, the self-aggrandising plebeian, had given him the means to do it. Before he was lost, Voidbringer activated the resurrection orb. The monster was almost destroyed. Scipio watched from a safe distance, the broken body of Cator in his arms. A long burn marred the Imperial eagle on his plastron, but at least Cator was still alive. He glared, willing retribution on the necron lord. Leaking fluids, machine parts crackling and fizzing in his skeletal armature, the Voidbringer was done. Tigurius was relentless and so too was the storm blazing from his fingertips. It lit up the plateau, searing away the ice-fog. Scipio’s eyes narrowed. Something was happening amidst the storm. Impossibly, the necron lord was self-repairing. Despite the fact his form was being stripped apart by psychic fire, the Voidbringer was regenerating! Living metal pooled together, running in rivulets over his shattered body, and started to form fresh carapace. Seemingly terminal wounds in the necron were reknitting, sealing. Scipio noticed the orb in the monster’s chest. It was black like onyx and shimmered as the regeneration process perpetuated itself. Thumbing the activation stud on his chainsword, Scipio knew what he had to do. To step into that lightning meant certain death. It was a small price. He only hoped his sacrifice would be enough.
- Fall of Damnos

 Sasori wrote:

 skoffs wrote:
So, looking at the way things are stacking up for us post FAQ, what would the top competitive builds be now?
• CCB is super strong, and GAs became a lot more survivable, so AV13 Wall looks like a strong contender.
• with swarms being able to score and the changes to MCs, Scarab Farm might make a bit of a comeback.
• RCDI has still got some serious potential.
• not sure how Silver Tide is doing.
• is Wraith Wing still viable?
• how's CronAir looking?
• what about some other thinking outside the box list ideas (Deathmarks? Destroyers? Tomb Blades? Etc.)

I personally think Ancanthrites are stronger than Wraiths, especially with the advent of more people taking vehicles.

Fragile wrote:

 Sasori wrote:

 skoffs wrote:
So, looking at the way things are stacking up for us post FAQ, what would the top competitive builds be now?
• CCB is super strong, and GAs became a lot more survivable, so AV13 Wall looks like a strong contender.
• with swarms being able to score and the changes to MCs, Scarab Farm might make a bit of a comeback.
• RCDI has still got some serious potential.
• not sure how Silver Tide is doing.
• is Wraith Wing still viable?
• how's CronAir looking?
• what about some other thinking outside the box list ideas (Deathmarks? Destroyers? Tomb Blades? Etc.)

I personally think Ancanthrites are stronger than Wraiths, especially with the advent of more people taking vehicles.

Well you can spend 5 points for a ranged shot and an additional attack on the Wraiths again.

 NecronLord3 wrote:
@ Galorian. Not sure where you are getting the suggestion that the Necrons had no psychic defense. Clearly they did, but in game they effectively don't minus gloom prisms which isn't much. I would love for crypteks to have viable counters to psychic powers, but in their current incarnation they don't.

bodazoka wrote:
If fluff justified rules then a space marine would cost around 175 ppm.