DXF's Iron Hands Gallery

[Iron Father Ferrum]

Because I'm horrible at taking in-progress shots for my WIP Thread, I decided to close that down and just focus on showing off my finished stuff.  I'm not even close to being a professional photog, so the picture quality is, like the painting, the best I've been able to manage.  Let me know what you think.

 

 

IRON FATHER IGNEON GOVANUS

http://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h96/DTRI/Iron%20Hands/Leaders/IMAG0242_zps054babd1.jpg

 

Land Behemoth Shologar

Medusa, Cadian Sector

 

 

Iron Commander Gideon Tekton was waiting for him as the ramp to the Thunderhawk dropped sedately to the deck, as usual.  Igneon allowed the one side of his face that still had flesh on it to crimp up a touch at the corner of his lips.  It was barely enough to notice, much less be considered a real smile.  Despite having been surpassed by his protégé -- perhaps even because of it --  Govanus held Tekton in high esteem.  If anyone could keep Clan Haarmek from falling prey to the same stupidity that had claimed the rest of the Clan Council, it was Gideon Tekton.

 

Tekton nodded his greeting to his mentor.  He was unarmed, but the bonding process had made it physically impossible to remove his body from his Terminator plate; man and machine had been fused into a single element, much like Igneon and his own armor had long ago united.  Even encased in the massive suit, however, Tekton did not overtop him by much.  His artificer armor had once been Iron-pattern power armor, though it had since become so much more.  Layers of heavy plates, segmented and castellated so as to not impede movement, provided an almost impervious layer of protection, and heavily bulked-out his silhouette.  His backpack power unit -- an expanded version of the standard, featuring a double-stacked atomic pile for a power source -- thickened his profile even more, an effect compounded by the dozen mechadendrites that waves from his waist and back.  The four servo-arms of his harness were folded back, tucked in tight against his armored frame, ready if -- when -- he needed them.  Likewise, his relic combi-plasma was mag-locked to his thigh.  The Clans still skirmished on occasion, so it never hurt to be prepared.

 

"Did they listen, this time?" Tekton growled.

 

Igneon shook his head.  "They did not even want to hear it."  He waved a finger at the younger Space Marine.  "Mark my words, Stronos will lead us all into ruin and heresy."

 

The Terminator-clad officer turned and followed the Iron Father as he made his way into the land behemoth's interior.  Behind them, the Thunderhawk's engines went from the low growl of stand-by to the high-pitched freight-train whine of full power as it clawed its way back into the sky.

 

"We need more allies on the Council."

 

"What we need is this blight on our traditions to die, so those fools will stop re-electing him as Warleader," Igneon spat back as the pair trudged through the darkened corridors of the Shologar.  The gauntlet insignia of the Iron Hands was stamped upon every wall, every bulkhead, always placed in opposition to the skull-cog icon of the Adeptus Mechanicus.  To Igneon, who had spent decades on the Red Planet studying under the Martian Priesthood, the skull and cog were a balm to his bitter mood.  He remembered Gideon as a young child, an aspirant, trembling beneath that iron-shod gaze, wary of the Icons Mechanicus and their stern visages.

 

"I am not an expert on the Warp," he continued, "but Silas tells me that the Archenemy draws its power from emotions.  Logic dictates, then, that purging emotion weakens the Enemy.  At the very least, makes us harder targets for their vile sorcery.  Yet Stronos would have us express our emotions, to feel them unblocked and unbiased.  He wants us all to feel pity and compassion, because he thinks that will make us stronger somehow."

 

Beside him, Gideon responded with a grunt of agreement.

 

Govanus stopped, arresting his companion with a touch.  "Promise me, Gideon, that you will not let his combat record or his charisma sway you.  Ever.  Swear that you will keep my teachings -- the Primarch's teachings -- close to you for all time."

 

Tekton turned to face him and placed his hands on the Iron Father's armored shoulders.  "I promise, old friend.  No argument or command could ever turn me away from the truth of iron as we know it.  I am iron.  I know no fear, no pity, no remorse.  I feel no love, no compassion, no tenderness.  I am the hammer in His hand, the iron fist, the gauntlet thrown in challenge.  I am strong.  I purge the weak.  I am iron.  That is what you taught me, that is the core of Clan Haarmek.  Nothing can ever change that."

 

Igneon nodded once, emphatically.  "Never forget it."

[Grand Master Caloth]

That white is absolutely beautiful! Crisp and CLEAN. I'm truly impressed

[KhorneFlakes]

Wicked mini and one of the best pieces of fan fiction I have read in a LONG time, to me it's everything a Space Marine is, awesome pieces! This has inspired me to paint another mini and think on my Warband backstory!