#solemnace crew

[magistralucis]

Headcanon that the current Solemnace crew all have Waist Inventory™, taking after their overlord, who still carries his curios in this manner despite also having free access to such things as dimensional pockets and tessarect labyrinths. We know the Huntmaster canonically carries his trophies like this, and since Sannet apparently fashions his writing implements out of his own necrodermis, it doesn't sound too far-fetched that he might keep field notes and the like in a similar fashion. Ashkut could have a chronomancer prod there or something. The possibilities are endless

I bet he'd be delighted by the concept of a fanny pack

[ghostinthegallery]

Solemnace Headcanon: Huntmaster loves sniping crypteks because their heads are literally shaped like targets. Especially Orikan's. There's an actual glowing bullseye in the center of their faces. It's like a carnival game to him. He's sad he doesn't get to do it more often, but Trazyn can only afford to piss off so many overlords at once.

[potpourrifandoms]

I've been reading a lot of Warhammer 40k novels and short stories lately, mostly T'au and Necron stuff. I'm particularly enamoured with Trazyn and all the mischief he gets up to, and I love that he has a whole crew of necrons on Solemnace who are just as eccentric as he is. I've been doodling some characters and decided to draw up some proper pieces with inking and colouring too.

So, here's Arch-Cryptek Sannet (the forgetful chief curator who needs to write things down to recall them), and Huntmaster, game warden of Solemnace (a very cool deathmark who wears a void-cape and helps Trazyn collect specimens for study and preservation. I gave him a hood because it looks cool and he matches Trazyn now. :3)

Let the Necrons have a sitcom already, there's more than enough drama and comedy for it. I love petty old robots.

[titanomancy]

So, Rogue Trader in September. The latest video gives a quick rundown on what’s going on - seems that it’ll be a two-in-one Kill Team box featuring the titular Rogue Trader crew and their Gellarpox Mutant antagonists, rather than the stand-alone game it originally looked to be.

I’m personally hopeful that we see more boxes like this to explore other matchups between unusual forces or characters. Imagine if you got a box of Emperor’s Children and Necrons based on the expedition to Solemnace in Clonelord, featuring plastic Fabius Bile and Trazyn the Infinite, for instance; or Drukhari versus Space Wolves with Duke Sliscus and Lukas the Trickster, from the book of the same name.

[ghostinthegallery]

Hello Ghost! First good day I am you are doing well!

Second; forgot to ask in AO3 but will we see Trazyn explaning the shitshow he put himself, Solamnace AND everyone living in Solamnace at the mot? It would be so cool to see his crypteks and Ashkut AND Huntmaster calling him an impulsive moron in the politest most passive aggressive way they can get away with XD

And seeing their undying loyalty to him too. Even with imminet and lets be honest extraordianary danger they are all in all WILL stand with their lord until to the bitter end. He is theit lord and this is their home and by the all dead gods they will fight tooth and nail to protect it!!!...also after the amount of work the put in Solamnace and regular bullshit they go through there is no way in hell they'll go without a fight.

I would love to see Trazyn getting emotional XD (because these people were HIS family before and after biotransfarence I will die on this hill you and magistralucis convinced me in XD)

(if anyone is curious what situation Trazyn got himself into, read my longfic here. Shameless self promo done)

Haha, I do have plans for the Solemnace crew (not immediately, there's a lot to cover but it will come!). Now hijacking your ask because it did get me thinking about loyalty as a concept for necrons. So few of them have free will. Even those that do are still machines. Machines can be programmed. Szarekh literally had a command protocol that let him control every single necron (which he gave up but the fact that level of control is possible is kinda terrifying)

So how can one truly know if loyalty is chosen or programmed? How much free will can a machine without a soul have? I find that idea so interesting, and I imagine is occurs to the characters as well. We just don't see it as much since most of the POV characters are lords who would have no reason to consider it. Severed imho addresses this in a roundabout way with how it portrays Obyron's loyalty to Zahndrekh. It shows that a subordinate can choose loyalty to their lord, rather than having it forced on them by programming.

I imagine the Solemnace crew are in a similar position (the sentient ones anyway). Trazyn is not the best lord out there, he will take possession of a subordinate's body if he needs it and that does NOT sound pleasant. But the narrative really does show his court having will and opinions and skills that Trazyn values. That's not true of every overlord. So yeah, based on what we see I do think their loyalty is a choice. That's hella emotional to me, so yeah, I promise it will come up XD

[ghostinthegallery]

Second prompt fill for @beril66! Let's have a little fun with this one XD

"Please hold me" for Trazyn/Orikan

###

Solemnace was a planet constantly perched on the precipice of disaster. The wrong stasis breach or mechanical malfunction could spell instant doom for the great museum world. Ashkut faced that reality each day as Solemnace’s Royal Warden. But if Overlord Trazyn decided in his wisdom to house every possible superweapon, demi-god, and monstrosity in the galaxy in once collection, it was Ashkut’s job to ensure he and Solemnace survived the process.

Sometimes he simply wished the job was easier.

The planet’s alarm system alerted Ashkut that there was unusual activity deep within the galleries. Not the display areas, but the “stacks” as the crypteks called the network of storage rooms and study areas near the planet’s inert core. What alarm did not tell him was what kind of unusual activity he might face. 

Ashkut summoned a company of immortals to accompany him down the labyrinthine hallways. Perhaps he was being overly cautious. The alert might be nothing. Intruders did not make it this far without Lord Trazyn’s approval—whether or not they knew they had it. Most likely it was a stasis field failure causing the planet to think there was an intruder where there was only a loose exhibit, which more likely than not was harmless. He thanked all the stars they were nowhere near the tyranid wing.

As he turned a corner he stopped short. Two figures stood before a door, arguing in hushed tones. The first was Sannet, nervously rubbing his fingers together. The other was the Huntmaster, who turned towards the warden and his retinue.

“Ah, warden. Perfect timing,” Huntmaster said. “We need a vote to break the tie.”

“Tie?” Ashkut looked between the two fellow members of Solmnace’s court, alarm glyph still flashing in the corner of his vision. “What is going on here?”

Sannet pointed a shaking hand at the door.  “Lord Trazyn is inside.” 

“Alright,” Ashkut replied slowly.

“He isn’t alone,” Sannet stammered.

That wasn’t exactly unusual. Lord Trazyn occasionally showed people his collection. How willing they were to view it varied, but it was hardly a danger.

Huntmaster jerked his thumb towards the room. “The Diviner’s in there with him.”

“WHAT?” Ashkut roared. “And you two are just standing there?”

He moved to shove past the two fools, but Huntmaster grabbed his shoulder. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. We heard clanging.”

“Clanging,” Ashkut repeated, trying to figure out how that could possibly be relevant when his lord was currently stuck alone in a room with his mortal enemy.

“Clanging,” Huntmaster confirmed, as if that explained anything.

“It could have been a fight,” Sannet said. “Or…”

“Or not a fight,” Huntmaster said.

“Or that.” Sannet shuddered. “But still, we should check!”

“There’s been no call for aid.”

“That could mean Lord Trazyn is in danger and unable to summon any!” Sannet cried.

“Good point. After you then.” Huntmaster extended his arm. Sannet did not move.

Ashkut snapped, “What are you two talking about?” 

Huntmaster tilted his head. “Why warden, I did not think you were so naive. Has no one explained amorous affairs? They can get awfully noisy. I also feel obliged to tell you that typically those engaged prefer not to be disturbed.”

“Are you two trying to tell me that you know Lord Trazyn is inside that room, with a well established enemy, and you two are standing here doing nothing because you cannot decide if they are fighting or….” Ashkut stared at the cryptek and the deathmark in disbelief. “Have you not scried the room?”

“Disabled.” Huntmaster shrugged.

“We did hear something break,” Sannet offered.

“Well there you have it!” Ashkut said. “Lord Trazyn would never allow an artifact on Solemnace to be damaged.”

“That’s the storage room for spare Astartes helmets,” Huntmaster pointed out. “Even his lordship knows he could stand to lose a few of those.”

Ashkut shook his head. “Enough of this. You two may be content to stand out here bickering and neglecting your duties, but I am not.” 

He grabbed each one by the shoulder and pulled them apart, clearing the way to the plain, sliding door. He supposed he should not be too harsh with Sannet. Orikan the Diviner’s last intrusion on Solemnace had nearly ended with Sannet torn apart by a hive tyrant. It was only natural the old curator would not want to run into him again. Ashkut had nearly been killed at the astromancer’s hands himself, but that was no excuse not to face him if he threatened Solemnace or its overlord.

Although on the off chance Huntmaster was right, Ashkut left the immortals behind as he commanded the door to open.

The storage room was dark, lined with shelf upon shelf of astartes helmets in every imaginable color. Ashkut could not see the end of them. He stepped forward and drew his warscythe from its dimensional sheath, letting its glow light his path.

His foot hit something solid. A helmet, knocked from its place. There were more littering the floor before him. Ashkut increased the energy flow to his perception suite. Then he heard it. A definite…clanging sound. Ashkut ran towards it, keeping his tread light. He wanted to keep the element of surprise should he need it.

When he rounded a corner he again saw two figures. Though it took him a moment to realize it was in fact two and not one mass of metal. Limbs tangled together, nodes flashed, and loose tiles torn from mantles fell to the floor.

“Bastard,” hissed an unmistakable voice. One of Orikan’s claws raked across his Trazyn’s back, rending his cloak and leaving a shallow gash in the necrodermis below. The warden gripped his weapon tighter.

“Now Orikan.” Trazyn hoisted the cryptek up and shoved him against the wall. “Is that any way to speak to your host?”

Ashkut prepared to charge.

“I want to hear you ask nicely.”

Ashkut paused.

Orikan’s legs wrapped around Trazyn’s waist. Trazyn pressed him harder against the wall, holding him in place as his tail curled around one of the overlord’s legs. Beyond that, Ashkut could not see, but he did hear a noise that he could only liken to a poor quality recording of an animal in heat.

“Please,” Orikan groaned.

“Better, love. Please what?”

“Touch me.”

“Of course.”

“Please, hold me.”

Ashkut suddenly felt the need to check if the ambient temperature in the room had risen.

An interstitial alert appeared in the corner of his vision. He would have ignored it, had it not been appended with Lord Trazyn’s personal seal.

“I am quite sure,” the overlord’s voice said in Ashkut’s head. “That I am currently alone with my guest. But if I turn around and find that we are not alone, whoever I see will be permanently reassigned to cleaning the slaugth exhibit. Do I make myself clear?”

The royal warden believed he managed to break some land speed record in his haste to vacate the room. 

When the door slid shut behind him, he was met with two expectant monoculars.

“Lord Trazyn is entertaining a guest,” he said, refusing to meet either of their gazes. “He is not to be disturbed.”

The immortals thankfully continued to stare forward without any comprehension of what was going on. Ashkut envied them. As he marched away he heard Huntmaster nudging Sannet in the ribs.

“I told you so.”

In that moment, Ashkut was sure he became the first necron in history to develop a migraine.

[magistralucis]

Headcanon that Huntmaster totally ships Orizyn. Perhaps not so much in a way where they are both Normal and Not Hateful, but tilted more in the pro-Trazyn 'he is mine to keep and I will thus keep him here' direction, and happy to help out his master on this front. Collecting '''specimens''' is the dude's job after all, and if I have interpreted The Infinite and the Divine correctly Huntmaster a) was the vessel through which the Headshot™ was achieved, and b) he took direct commands from Orikan and considered him most worthy at the final showdown. I think he'd be pretty stoked to have Orikan around all the time

[magistralucis]

I think what makes Trazyn exceptional is that he actually talks to his retainers, like actually converses with them, no matter what the stakes are. I don't mean that as a part of solving problems or giving orders. He just genuinely seems to like talking to the people around him, and as a result, what we know about the people around him develops naturally.

Sannet. Ashkut. Huntmaster, who as a deathmark should probably not have a place of honour among necron nobility, but whom Trazyn trusts with his Empathic Obliterator (see: The Bleeding Stars). His crypteks all have names and their two cents to add to the Timesplinter Cloak discussion, and it seems they all feel relatively comfortable bullshitting with one another (see: Sannet vs. Trazyn, Tekk-Nev). Koloma, the human assistant. Since necron rulers aren't normally obliged to hear their inferiors' opinions about anything, Trazyn and his court stand out - you wouldn't think Solemnace ran on a skeleton crew, since even their brief conversations add to the richness of the setting.

And I can't stress that part enough: no matter what the stakes are. We have Trazyn's conversations from just about every context, from slice-of-life moments to active godmurdering. Compare to Oltyx, for example, who's never in a low-stakes situation; in every chapter he's fighting for something greater than himself, and that struggle's reflected in every conversation he has with his people. These conversations are some of the most philosophical discussions in necron lit, but they're not really casual. Members of Oltyx's court are threads in a tapestry, and we follow them closely as Oltyx's epic unfolds, watching them unravel or grow stronger in the process.

They are a necessity and a tragedy. Trazyn's retainers are low-key, but sparkle organically nonetheless, because he pats people's backs in reassurance, thinks about wine, and asks about the significance of the pentatonic scale. The little things are important! They are what makes life familiar! Not at all common a necron should care about this, save for perhaps Zahndrekh - not that his court appreciates it, outside of Obyron, and even Obyron tires of it sometimes.

Which brings us, too, to the matter of Orikan! The Infinite and the Divine could be divided into two halves, the first being T/O's conflict and the second their co-operation, and the latter is marked by when Trazyn starts talking about those things with Orikan. I don't think Orikan finds those topics fulfilling, but he is certainly affected by Trazyn's willingness to talk to him, and their discussion that follows at the opera is the existential highlight of the novel.

And it was a positive change, even if it didn't iron out their differences. Orikan realized solitude did not serve him well. He went from having Vishani's voice (plus a plasmancer ally he didn't care for) to taking down a god with his rival wielding a galaxy-wide variety of armies. Don't reckon that would have come about if Trazyn had been nothing but sullen and silent all that time, or if he'd not tried to speak to Orikan of the little things that were important to him. Caffeine. Puppetry. Labour rights. That kind of thing.

In short:

Dude was so real for this, ngl