The Necrosphinx is the mightiest of the necrolith constructs, a war-statue built not to guard the tombs but to avenge them. Its makers fused the fiercest aspects of the pantheon into a single terrible silhouette: the crouched body of a great sphinx, wings of graven stone, a scorpion's sting arched high, and in place of hands, twin decapitating blades the length of ship's masts. It was consecrated for one duty alone — to slay the giants, dragons, and daemons that no mortal soldiery could ever bring down.
For lifetimes at a stretch it kneels among the monuments of the necropolis, indistinguishable from them, until the priests cry the words of waking. Then the stone moves — ponderous at first, then hideously swift, wings hammering it into gliding leaps no mass of granite should achieve. It strides through lesser soldiers as a man wades through reeds, seeking the largest thing on the enemy's side of the field in order to remove its head. Whole armies have watched that single stroke fall and remembered, all at once, urgent business elsewhere.
Order of battle
