Dornian Heresy Imperial Fist

[Son of Carnelian]

Hey gang. Just thought I would drop my finished Imperial Fist here. It's not the beginnigs of a larger force, mostly because I don't have the scratch to start an accurate pre-heresy army. But I love the Dornian Heresy and have been a wee bit disapointed with the lack of miniatures made to represent this wonderful fluff. So here is my take on one of the Terra-stationed Fists going Chaos right at the beginning of Dorn's betrayal, hence the purity seals still on him. Fluff is below.

Brother Agrippa of the Adeptus Custodes strode through one of the thousands of corridors inside the Emperor’s palace on Holy Terra. The time for the changing of the guard had come and Agrippa hurried towards his post in front of the entrance to the Hall of Artifacts. As he rounded the corner, he could see Brother Damascus of the Imperial Fists already at the post, early as he always was. As the Emperor’s Praetorian, Rogal Dorn had dispatched a number of his most experienced veterans for the purpose of guarding the Emperor and overseeing his defenses. Agrippa took his post beside the door and stiffened himself.

“You’re late, Custode.”

“Nay, you are merely early, Astartes.”

The two of them laughed over their shared joke. For twelve years, they had guarded the palace together. While most members of the Adeptus Custodes saw the Imperial Fist’s presence as unnecessary at best and insulting at worst, Agrippa had instantly taken to the new arrivals, becoming friends with Damascus nearly as soon as he left his shuttle. They had bonded over their shared love of the fine artwork that covered the walls of the palace, their battle experiences, their interest in the pre-Imperium history of mankind, but above all, their shared sense of duty.

“Tell me, my gilded brother… for how long have we know each other?”

Agrippa turned his head in slight confusion toward Damascus.

“You know the answer to that question as well as I do, brother. Or at least you should.”

“Indulge me.”

Agrippa straightened his head forward and frowned.

“Twelve years, brother. Nearly to the day.”

“And have we succeed, brother? Have we protected the Emperor?”

Agrippa slightly recoiled, then laughed and rapped his spear on the top of Damascus’ helmet.

“Of course we have! Discounting that time when the palace burned down and all the records put to the torch!”

“Please brother, I would ask that you take me seriously.”

“Very well. What brings these thoughts into your mind? You do not regret your station here, surely?”

Agrippa heard what sounded like a sigh seep out from under Damascus’ helmet. The Imperial Fist looked towards the ground and continued.

“I do not, thought I have wondered of late whether things could have been different, had I been on the Great Crusade instead of here.”

Agrippa studied his partner as he considered his response. His first instinct was to scold Damascus, for there could be no higher honor than protecting the Emperor himself? But he remembered that Damascus had a much different life prior to his guard position at the palace. He had fought on countless worlds, wiping the alien and the mutant from the galaxy, shattering empires at the behest of a living god, Rogal Dorn. He had broken worlds in two with his battle-brothers and been rewarded for his bravery. Agrippa decided that he should try and sympathize with his brother.

“Things would have been different, brother. There surely are glories to be won, foes to smite, and a universe to conquer, all beyond these walls. But I should like to think that none of them compare to the honor of guarding our living savior. And, if the Emperor will allow me a moment of selfishness, you would not have met me.

Serving beside you, brother, has been the greatest honor of them all.”

Agrippa turned towards his brother, gauging Damascus’ reaction as best he could with both their helmets on. Damascus raised his head and carefully undid the straps that connected his helmet to his neck armor. Sliding it off and freeing his short buzz cut, Damascus turned towards Agrippa, tears flowing from his eyes, the left of which bore an eight-pointed star that had recently been tattooed into the flesh. Brother Agrippa did not know what the eight-pointed star stood for, but he knew it meant the death of their friendship as he saw Damascus draw his plasma pistol.

[HellHunter]

Wow, nice conversion and paintjob. The background story is really cool too. Like you, I would like to see more minis representing the Dornian Heresy.

[MithrilForge]

quite a different take on that mini!! cool idea, although he may need a little touch up work on the face and parts of the armor,overall a great idea!!

also when was the "Dorian" heresy :huh:..... :huh:

 

mithril

[Alys Dwr]

I like the armour and the little story that goes with him, it adds a nice dimension to the character.

 

I do think his face lacks any depth/contrast though (it might just be the lighting). I'd give the face a few thin washes. Saying that, the whole model is quite light and it could benefit from a few darker detaisl just to bring out some more visual interest to the model.

 

Al

[Son of Carnelian]

Yeah, I didn't use any washes on the face and it really shows. Next time, I'll add some better depth. But thanks for the feedback, everyone!