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Gorgon Dynasty

The Gotrekh Dynasty is afflicted by a curious mania unique among the Necron race. Where other dynasties wage war to awaken slumbering brethren, drive intruders from worlds once under Necron rule, claim shards of the C’tan, or simply to rail against the living, Gotrekh appears almost exclusively over worlds lush with life that find themselves imposed upon, either by war or by industrialization. This crusade has made them relentless foes of the Adeptus Mechanicus, the Tyranids and Chaos wherever it arises, as well as certain Space Marine chapters. It has also resulted in some unlikely alliances; several Imperial agri-worlds assumed lost to Tyranid or Dark Eldar incursions have reported unexpected assistance from shining skeletal xenos. Inquisitorial fleets with orders of exterminatus near Gotrekh space have disappeared before reaching their target worlds. There is unprecedented evidence that the Gotrekh Dynasty has even repelled incursions on Exodite planets, though many refuse to credit such outrageous reports.

As most curiosities of Necron-kind do, the root of the Gotrekh Dynasty’s bizarre behavior lies long before the dawn of man. In the waning days of the War in Heaven, as the Necrontyr offensive faltered against the overwhelming might of the Old Ones, Phaerakh Medethea was born, inheritor to a minor dynasty on a colony world distant from the Silent King’s seat of power. As she grew to maturity, it became apparent that she was an exceptionally healthy and beautiful child by the standards of the Necrontyr. By the time she reached adulthood, the Gotrekh palace swarmed with incredulous Crypteks – Medethea exhibited no tumors, no lesions, not so much as hair loss. For the first time in recorded history, a Necrontyr had been born without the curse of their blighted star. With their dreams of galactic conquest fading, many saw Medethea’s birth as a new hope- hope that her genome could cure their race of its genetic burden, hope that she was merely the first of many and others like her might soon be born. The mantle of messiah was one the young Phaerakh-to-be donned gracefully. Rare was it for Medethea to find a day in her schedule not filled with diplomatic missions, public appearances and appointments with physicians, and she basked in the attention. Particularly she savored visits to the agri-worlds of their little empire, as she seemed to thrive in those lush environs and mingled freely among the common people there. The common folk began to spread rumors that her mere presence salved ills and helped the sick grow well. Though the tides had turned against the Necrontyr on the galactic front, morale among the people of Gotrekh was at an all-time high.

Unfortunately for them, the hopes of mortals were of no regard to the C’tan. When the day of biotransferrence came, Medethea’s pure, miraculous body was thrown on the heap with all the others, shucked aside like so much chaff, her consciousness entombed in a necrodermis skull. Mindlessly she fought shoulder to shoulder alongside her kin at the Star Gods’ whim, slaughtering Old Ones and their get without rest until the Silent King’s betrayal and the Great Sleep. She would not regain her sense of self until she reawakened, thousands of years later.

But reawaken she did. This onetime messiah found herself occupying a metallic corpse, and most of her friends, relatives and subjects did not even remember their own names. The future the Gotrekh dynasty might once have represented was dead.

Given the circumstances, the throne world was, unsurprisingly, in disarray. Those who had retained enough of their sanity to consider their circumstances had little direction. The prior Phaeron and Phaerakh, Medethea’s parents, had not awakened. As reports came in of how the galaxy had changed during their sleep, revealing the continued existence of the Eldar and the thriving of the Krorks, many Gotrekh lords considered that they should resume where the Silent King had left off, and seek to purge the galaxy of the Old Ones’ children. Others felt their first duty was to their fellow Necrons, that they might seek out slumbering tomb worlds and unite to avenge themselves upon the C’tan who inflicted them with this existence. Many more simply despaired. For a time, Medethea despaired with them. 

It was not until a tour of Gotrekh space – ostensibly meant to take stock of how their realm had changed over the eons – that Medethea would find her lost will. Though many worlds were changed or inhabited by foundling races or simply gone, one of the former agri-worlds remained, and indeed flourished. Amidst the familiar greenery of her youth, Medethea felt the stirrings of the closest thing her soulless body could muster to contentment. That contentment turned to awe as she realized that the common herd beasts her folk had kept had, through the long corridor of time, evolved - sapient beings from once domesticated chattel, already with mastery of spear and fire!

An eon of mourning eventually gave way to a cold resolve. The Necrontyr were gone, but the Necrons remained, wraiths of a brighter past thrust into a dark and desperate future. Finally taking the role of Phaerakh fully upon herself, Medethea returned to Gotrek's throne world, determined that though her messianic destiny had been denied to her people, she still might find purpose, there were other beings that might yet achieve their genetic destiny. Recasting the necrodermis bodies of her kin into an alloy that shines opaline white, a reminder of the dreams her people once held dear, she readied her army. Donning a death-mask in the form of the face she lost so long ago as a reminder of what they have lost, she girded herself for war.

The Gotrekh Dynasty marches to preserve what purity they can find in this benighted universe, and wreaks a terrible mad vengeance against those who would defile it. Colonists on such worlds are tolerated, should they not threaten the local ecosystems unduly. This puts the dynasty at odds with many factions, including other Necrons. Unfortunately, even occupying a dead world is not a surefire way of avoiding Gotrekh’s wrath, as a Necron’s memory is long, and that dead world may have once been a garden planet in Medethea’s time.  The Gotrekh throne world is all but abandoned, motionless save for its factories manned by a skeleton crew ceaselessly preparing weapons for its warriors, bodies for Necrons whose reanimation protocols have failed, and energy to fuel their spacecraft on their endless crusade.

Though the crypteks do not share their Phaerakh's zeal, they have adapted well to their new task of conservation. The skills with genetics they employed during life in hopes of unlocking the Necrontyr genome have proven useful in the keeping of the Gotrekh Menagerie – when Medethea and her warriors 'save' a world, her crypteks are not far behind, armed with chronoptic stasis devices and seeking specimens to be preserved for the good of the universe. The Menagerie may well be the single most biologically diverse collection of xenos in the known galaxy. Not all the scientific community follows the letter of their queen's will, however. Medethea has given up on her own race, but some crypteks believe that somewhere, entombed in some forgotten library or laboratory, a genetic sample of the original Necrontyr may still exist. The most ambitious scour the throne world, hoping to find that holy grail – a sample of Medethea's own original body. Such ambitions are, of course, kept hidden from their vengeful Phaerakh.

As with most Necrons who retain their Necrontyr identities, Medethea’s eccentricities have only become more pronounced with time– her messiah complex become a sense of zealous righteousness, and the noblesse in which she was raised has made her fickle and petty. She despises her metallic form, and should her death-mask be disturbed or damaged in any way she will fly into a fulminant rage, training the chronoptic stasis-beams embedded in her head-mounted tendrils upon the offender until she can exact her revenge. Medethea holds a special hatred for Tyranids and the forces of Chaos, which she views as galactic-scale cancers in need of gauss-powered excision. Despite a mission statement that seems on the surface fairly agreeable for a soulless xenos abomination, she is exceptionally difficult to reason with. Pleas for mercy and demands that she withdraw her assistance are equally ignored when Gotrekh takes the field, and any parley is likely to be imperious and one-sided.

Given Medethea’s evident passion for the thriving natural world, it has been rumored among the Imperial Guard regiments stationed near Gotrekh space that she occasionally vacations on Catachan. These rumors remain unconfirmed.


Phaerakh Medethea