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I remember what my father said to me We stood upon the Soulsburg Hill watching the great tribes The Avernii, the Pictii, the Helvetics, and us, the Brytannic I remember his words "We have become dominion. Trust no stranger. Their blades cut deep" I spoke these words to my son. I spoke them because of great fear that coiled inside my stomach I had no idea how true my father's warning was My son paid the price More than I I was a proud and mighty warrior when the Imperator united Terra Yet my body was too old to be reborn anew My son was elevated into the stars and although my heart was soiled with envy I was respected And so I too was born unto the stars, metal encasing my bone, science a furnace of my soul I carried our tribe's sigil across countless worlds, following my son, a giant of legend, into battle I was so proud I was respected Yet not worthy to be Astartes My son was fierce in his power and he never forgot the creed of our People My pride began to smother my envy The serpent in my belly slumbered Across time we built the foundations of the Imperium of Terra We brought courage and unity to the stars The bond of brotherhood I saw bloom through my son was of an intensity I had never witnessed before So alike to my own peoples' bond of blood, yet so mythical as to set my son a demi-god before me Our line-fathers would be so very proud My son carried my soul-forged blade into combat. My legacy made manifest destiny wielded the very soul of his father into battle It is said Albian blades are crafted with sorcery and sacrifice This is true What is also true Is that the serpent in my belly was not slumbering It was waiting As we roared down unto the swollen skies of the realm below like tuthaan howlers unleashed from Noden's gate , I remembered my father's words "We have become dominion. Trust no stranger. Their blades cut deep" I mourn for the loss of love my son has endured I have known betrayal in my years but to be betrayed by your fellow gods? I do not know this betrayal and I never will I saw my son die on the broken shale dunes before that accursed black fortress His body continued to massacre Yet I watched his soul die as he slew his brothers I watched betrayal drown all that was noble of my child I watched it slither up from my belly and strike him in the aether I watched it coil into his heart I watched the birth of true malevolence With it, it carried the legacy of my people, it carried my soul I watched my son do things that made the truth of my fathers words burn into my mind I saw my son die I saw a stranger ++ Welcome to my work in progress journal for a true scale force of Iron Hands set during the Drop Site Massacre of Istvaan V. I decided that there is character to the Iron Tenth, there isn't enough for me. I am drawing on my own peoples varied histories and giving it a big mix up to paint a little bit of mysticism and legend on the Iron Hands. I'll be diving deep into fleshing out my vision of the Clans. Here are some WIP shots of the force, there are about 20 ready for basing and painting now. I am planning on doing a full truescale force of these guys, roughly 2500 points. It will be an armored cavalry force. Expect lots of Land Raiders. Tap Tap - This guy has become a favorite on Instagram and my other hobby groups already. The two squads are made of Mk2 and Mk3 pattern with Umbra and Tigris pattern bolters respectively. As with all my projects there will be lots of pouches and gubbins adorning the models because one magazine and no grenades just doesn't cut it for me. As mentioned in the little excerpt above, I'm leaning into the mysticism of ancient Europe and some legends are blended for that lovely Warhammer feel of there being no one true real life source. The Terran born peoples that make up the Iron Hands were the clansmen of Albia, which is roughly where Britain and a chunk of Europe would have been on Earth back in the day. A fair amount of my force will have those pseudo-cultural links in either markings and tattoos, or modeling choices and war-gear. I'm using a lot of Storm Cast bits for the weaponry as they fit perfectly with my idea of far-future Celtic berserkers. You'll see no cogs and clock parts here I'm afraid, the whole vibe is too steam punk for my tastes. Instead I'll be leaning more into the Techno-Barbarian and Ancient Warrior Culture vibe. If you have any comments or critiques of posted work, I invite you to share below and encourage discussion as we build this narrative. Thank you -MS-