Iron Warriors The Iron Enclave

[madlibrarian]

Hey all,

 

Newcomer to the forums here, although I've been a long time lurker and admirer of some of your excellent works. I've decided to take the plunge and start my own post regarding my humble Iron Warriors collection. It is an amalgamation of various armours, models, themes and timelines (so please don't expect any clinical accuracy regarding 30k/40k lore with the models themselves). Feedback welcome as always - see if you can tell who's inspired some of these miniatures!

Brother Ortraxes

 

Brother Ortraxes was there, all those years ago. He had seen it. He had seen the crumbling edifices of Imperial sovereignty, the once mighty bastions of the Imperial Palace laid low by the brilliance of their lord, and the cowardice and failure of the other legions. He had witnessed the birth of a dying emperor, and the damnation of his legion into the miasma of the warp. Ortraxes' rage had been kindled in those final moments, turned inwards. It had turned tempered iron into a brittle, unyielding mockery of its former self. He had become less than what he was, a bestial, snarling and feral member of the IVth legion. He was no longer governed by reason or pride or the honour of his legion. Ortraxes wished only to descend into the crucible of combat, where he could lay waste to the followers of this new, marooned, mongrel emperor.

He would have his wish.

Breacher Squad Themis

 

Iron. A brittle and fragile metal, unless it is tempered and honed and utilised in its correct manner. Breacher Squad Themis had once been nearly twenty strong. At the time of the siege of the Imperial Palace, there had been twelve of them. Now, just five remained. 

They had been used as a blunt spearhead. They had been used to drive back the fury of the loyalist astartes, to venture into the ash covered wastes, to weather the fusillades of bolter, las and volkite fire and push back the vengeance of the emperor. Their panoplies had grown accustomed to their wearers. Each one had been modified, improved, and altered to best suit the needs of the occupant. Each one had been assembled from whatever pieces of equipment the IVth could muster in the eye of the heresy. Hastily assembled suits of armour that, whilst tailored to the occupant, was the best that could be done with the lot that had been given to them.

Legate Acastus

 

Acastus had not wished to be leader. He had not wished to have the mantle of responsibility thrust upon him so. When the former legate was conflagrated in a whirling maelstrom of flame and death, with nought but his charred remains to bear witness to his life, Acastus fell back on his training. He had pushed the opening. His bolter had grown heavy in his arms, and his shield was twisted and buckled from the torrent of abuse that had been directed at him. His left arm, long trained to bear the heavy adamantite shield, had grown limp and useless. But still, still he had marched forwards. Acastus' bolter had screamed vengeance at the Imperial defenders, barking death and terror as the inexorable Iron Warrior strode forwards. 

Acastus, through his stoicism, through leading by example, had earned the title of Legate. A title that rested uneasily on his brow.

Brother's Acestes and Urian

Brother's Acestes and Urian were unusual in the IVth legion. Born from the same village, they had been rivals since childhood. When Perturabo inducted them into the vaunted halls of the IVth legiones astartes, their rivalry became muted. Dulled by the realisation that, for all their pride and scorn for each other, they were but dust in the vast machinery of the great crusade. 

After the dropsite massacre, Acestes had been fortunate to acquire a highly advanced Iron Hands mark III helmet. The enhanced optics, coupled with the high levels of protection and durability that mark III offered, had rendered it a sought after trophy, and one that Acestes jealously guarded.

Urian, in contrast, sought only to outlast Acestes. Whilst dulled and dwarfed by the machinations of the galaxy at large, his pride and stubborness had rendered him unable to see past Acestes' shadow. The silhouette of Acestes was one that drew tempered loathing from Urian. He vowed to outlast Acestes, and to have Acestes know that it was he, Urian, who was the better of the two.
 

Brother Tiege

The melta that Tiege wields has been heavily altered and customised, to mark the enemy and burn fear into their psyche. Brother Tiege had spent time with the Dark Angels legion, presumably where he had acquired their signature helm. Little is known about Tiege, having spent the majority of his service prior to the heresy on a fringe planet, dutifully guarding against the agonies of boredom.
 

Brother Parthenios

Parthenios was an outlier amongst the Iron Warriors. He had been given his name after his ascension to an astartes, owing to his unusually young recruitment age. Despite the kinly mocking that his brothers bestow upon him, he remains steadfast in his duty to dispense death to the enemies of the IVth. Having a particular affinity for grenades and chemical warfare, Parthenios has a surplus of explosive armaments adorning him for every engagement. 
______________________
 

That's all for now guys - let me know what you think! Big praise to Apologist - it was his Iron Warriors blog on here that got me back into the hobby.

[Iron Inspirit]

Love the lore and the models, but it looks like you need to get some paint on those boys!

[madlibrarian]

You're absolutely right bud - when the weather's good and I've got a resupply of black spray I'll get a coat or two on them In the mean time, enjoy my counts as leviathan dreadnought!

Ancient Intimades

 

The faint rumble of approaching steel shattered the morning still. Vibrations trickled through plascrete and the buttresses of the desolate city. Within the shadow of a collapsing arch, the fury of an ancient being nested, paused in its rage. Waiting. 

 

3000 tonnes of steel and iron screeched over the boundary of the city. Inside, a company of guardsmen rested, weary and fatigued from weeks spent enduring the monotony of the great metallic coffin. Ruined buildings flickered past the windows as guardsmen peered out; trying to get a glimpse of natural light, and a whisper of fresh air. The passing alleys and streets flew past in a blur - the gaps between the buildings and arches occasionally littered with debris and fallen masonry. All, except one. One of them bore the silhouette of a monstrous beast. 

 

The first inkling that the guardsmen had that something was awry was when the entire locomotive was lifted in a violent explosion of kinetic energy, before slamming off the tracks, ploughing into the concrete. The poor denizens of the train were pulped against the outer layers of steel. Bodies crushed and maimed by the sheer violence of the impact. 

 

Slamming to an impetuous stop, the carriages lay like the broken limbs of a marionette across the tracks. The beleaguered remnants of the ordeal staggered to their feet - some clutching broken limbs or oozing wounds, wondering how they came to be in such a situation. Then, over the sounds of dying and wounded men, came a rasping, metallic noise. Ancient Intimades slammed one huge foot upon the frame, and stared upon the devastation he had wrought. 

The sound of the autocannon's autoloaders cycling up could be heard.

[madlibrarian]

Brother Gorven

 

Brother Gorven, as with the rest of his havoc squad, wields a heavily customised chaincannon. Ubiquitous amongst the Iron Warriors, chaincannons were often belt fed via ammunition stores on the power pack of the individual astartes. The Iron Enclave has taken to a more utilitarian approach for their urban combat, enabling increased mobility amongst havoc combatants. The primary reasoning for this was to enable rapid relocation of havoc squads to limit targeted returns of fire. These weapons utilise a prototype drum fed magazine, with built in counterweight systems. Easily detached in the heat of battle, these magazines can be quickly replaced, or, if required, can be reloaded via the ammunition auto-loading port reserves each havoc has on their power packs. This reload does require a second operator to utilise, and as such is not commonly used, with the havoc squads still field testing the devices, how long they will remain in use is uncertain.

[Doghouse]

Very nice work, they are looking great so far! :tu:

[madlibrarian]

Brother Eudoxos

 

Whirring servos precipitated the hefting of the heavy bolter into position. Acquisition systems prepared to prioritise the optimal targets. The staccato chatter of small arms fire grew ever closer, dulled by plascrete and Eudoxos' helmet. His bolter had been customised - with an added frontal shield to provide increased protection and improved helmet optical relay links. He waited for the foe to close, their yellow armour a blazing beacon, screaming to be torn apart and shredded. The rest of his squad lay in wait, their iron armour dulled and marred by dust and debris. 

 

The first Fists fell back in a cohesive and disciplined manner. Suppressive fire laid down whilst the rest fell back. It was an impressive display, especially given the inordinate amount of fire being directed at them. One of their number staggered suddenly, their knee joint pulped by a bolter round, the rest of the limb dragging uselessly behind them. One of the yellow bastards tried to assist, before realising that he alone would not be enough.

 

Such camaraderie. Such foolishness. 

 

Another Imperial dog came to the wounded warrior's aid, bending down to help lift the astartes. Eudoxos smiled. A small glimpse of emotion that he so rarely showed anymore. His index finger tightened on the trigger, the rest of his squad taking aim. 

As one, the Iron Warriors opened fire. As one, the Imperial Fists were slain.
 

[madlibrarian]

@Doghouse - Thanks bud! Appreciate the compliment 

 

Thought I'd finish up the breachers - hopefully you guys enjoy them:

 

 

 

Brother Pavlos

 

 

Brother Pavlos had always been small of stature. Amongst the rolling hills and craggy outcroppings of his former home on Olympia, the boy had been mocked and ridiculed for his diminutive stature. The older children had thrown stones at him, had beaten him with sticks and pulled his hair. They'd struck him, and he'd struck back. They'd bite him, and he'd bite back. They had tried to kill him. He had killed them first.

From that moment on, when the authorities came and slapped the boy in cold, rolled iron, he had become a social pariah. Loathed for his crimes and lamented by his former family, he had become frozen and numb. When the IVth legion sought new recruits, he had been offered an opportunity to avoid the noose, and attempt the trials. Remarkably, he excelled. His tenacity, his unbridled determination and his sharp wit and keen intellect saw him conquer the trials and survive the augmentation process. From there, once he'd donned the power armour synonymous with the adeptus astartes, he carried out his role with fervour. 
 

Pavlos became a mortal manifestation of the grim will of the Iron Warriors. Where the combat was thickest, he would be there, directing fire and relaying orders from the higher echelons of command. Where his brothers sought cover, he would vault the barricades and goad them on. He became somewhat of a legend amongst his kin, with many amongst the legion joking that his small frame was the reason he'd not been shot and killed. They made those jokes only when they were certain he was not within earshot however.

[madlibrarian]

Some of my work in progress bits, currently lingering by the side of my hobby / computer / work station. 10 Iron Warriors cataphractii, minus the missile launchers - the price of being dirt cheap on Ebay! Also a Deimos predator - repurposed again from their hallowed history as a Night Lords advocate on Ebay.

[Xenith]

Really nice looking IW, I like that gun shield on he heavy bolter. Looking forward to seeing the pred in iron and gold! 

[madlibrarian]

Thanks Xenith - not a fan of painting vehicles outside of dreadnoughts! But it's got to be done for that armoured complement!

In other news, I've made a further 5 breachers - art scale a la Apologist and Doghouse. I'm much less adept with the green stuff than they both appear to be, but still, practice makes perfect! 
 

Tried to go for a slightly more uniform approach than my first squad. The leader (the one with the brass emblem on the shield) has a modified backpack as a result of necessity (I lacked enough normal Mk 4, only having a heavy weapon one left). I envisage it as a micro-melta, with a view to it being used to melt through reinforced bulkheads locks / precision work. 

Hope you enjoy! Feedback welcome as always.

[madlibrarian]

Terminator Squad Teichos

A great plume of ash rose up from the shattered remnants of the once noble bastion. Plascrete and twisted adamantite struts lay broken and bent at the foot of the crumbling edifice. The Iron Warriors had been pounding the fortress for nearly three days, their guns having been brought to bear under cover, the sturdy trenches enduring a fusilade of demolisher, lascannon and heavy bolter fire. The loyalist defenders had tried valiantly to hold off the encroaching IVth legion, even going so far as to sally forth a strike force to try and catch the Iron legion unawares. It had made no difference. The implacable will of the IVth legion would not be deterred, their mortal chattle had been thrown into the fray, sponges for the enemies bullets. Mortar for the fortifications. 

As the falling debris settled, there could be seen red lenses approaching through the dust and rubble. Heavy boots crunched their way forwards, storm-bolters held at the ready. Powerfists crackling with energy.


Also, please see the previously started breacher squad that's been finished! Pretty happy with them 

Edited September 1, 2022 by madlibrarian

[madlibrarian]

Ancient Teikhos "The Wall"

A gentle thrum permeated the air as the melancholic drips of leaking pipes broke the silence. The hiss of pneumatic pistons being activated brought a gentle wafting of slightly less stale air into the arming chamber. Staccato clangs grew louder, as the techpriests and enginseers of the IVth legion approached the slumbering giant. Enacting the canticles of activation, the former worshippers of the omnissiah awoke the dreaming warrior. Kept in stasis for nearly a decade, Ancient Teikhos was finally becoming animated once again.
________

Cold. That is what he felt. A cold that permeated the core of his body, engulfed his head, but left no touch upon his misisng arms or legs. 

Shame. Shame that he had been the one to live whilst his brothers had fallen. Bested by the innumerable hordes and unrestrained savagery of the greenskins. The dishonour a stain upon his sundered flesh. 

Anger. A desire for vengeance. To let the shackles fall from his now formidable arms so that they may crush and claw and sever their way through his enemies.

Restraint. He was an astartes. A star warrior. Born to conquer, not to succumb to base instincts and the animalistic urgings of his emotions. 

Ancient Teikhos gazed down upon the congregation before him. Their diminuitive figures scuttled about like flies upon a corpse. Fitting, he thought.
He growled a question at them.

"Whom do I face?"

Hesitation. They feared to tell him. They had yet to arm him he noted. They were testing him. Testing his loyalty to the legion and to the primarch. 

"Astartes. Terra. The Emperor."

His cold eyes peered out through the dreadnought sarcophagus. 

"Iron Within."

[madlibrarian]

Legion Predator Squadron Four-Two - Vehicle Designation Epsilon-262
 

Ker-chunk. Whump. Clang.

Ker-chunk. Whump. Clang.

Such was the rhythm of the predator when firing. The loading of the shell, followed by the dulled explosion that propelled the autocannon ammunition at supersonic velocities, and then finally the ejection of the shell casing into the holding port of the predator. 

The machine had been in service for over two decades. It had been repaired, restored, and repainted dozens of times throughout numerous campaigns. It had seen the deaths of hundreds of mortal beings, and had endured the replacement of its entire mortal crew on two occasions now. 

Yet, it had not expected to have its formidable arsenal turned on those it had once protected. The machine spirit inside the predator screamed in protest at the devastation it wrought upon those it viewed as allies. The heretical magos of the dark mechanicum had poisoned its functions, had subjugated its once indomitable spirit through foul sorceries and perversions of formerly noble machine code. 

The machine muled and bucked against the directions of its traitorous crew, yet, no matter how hard it tried, it could not shake their grip. It yearned to be free of their tyrannical plots, and to bring the full wrath of its weaponry against the turncoats who now piloted it. 

Instead however, it rolled forwards, its treads crushing bone and flesh into powder and fibrous sinew. It approached the walls of the Imperial Palace itself. 

The predator could only hope that one of the incoming shells was ordained to land upon it, to penetrate its chassis and annihilate it utterly. It could not stand the shame of its existence.



First time really trying out weathering pigments and oil washes on anything larger than a marine. 
Let me know what you think! C&C welcome as always. 

Also, a friend of mine has plague marines for 40k. I decided to convert him a plague sorcerer, and gave it a tabletop ready paintjob to complement it (the base and doggy are his to paint however). 
Again, let me know what you think!

[madlibrarian]

Thought I'd also finish up my Iron Warriors terminators too. 

Need to get some missile launchers 3D printed, then I'll probably have them back to siege tyrants. In the interim, they make good enough bog standard cataphractii I guess!

Really didn't like applying the astrogranite texture paste to the cork basing - just seemed to get absorbed and made the basing process (something I'm not overly keen on anyway) take longer than I wished!



Also for your perusal, is a cheeky glimpse of my 40k Iron Warriors army. Based mostly on Primaris due to a personal preference for the more realistic proportions and my abhorrence of the trim on CSM, there are also some Tortuga Bay bodies in there, and a Rampart tank with the turret modified.

Let me know what you think!

 

[Dr_Ruminahui]

They look really nice - kind of like a Scouring era army or newly turned/recruited iron warriors - it gives a very different and distinctive look.

[Kythnos]

I do like my 40k Iron Warriors to look more corrupted, but yours does look very good and coherent and has the advantage of working for 30k as well as 40k for sure. Great Job!

[madlibrarian]

On 10/16/2022 at 5:23 AM, Dr_Ruminahui said:

They look really nice - kind of like a Scouring era army or newly turned/recruited iron warriors - it gives a very different and distinctive look.

Cheers bud - initially I wanted to make a less corrupted (read - no overly fleshy stuff) iron warriors, but I’m leaning more into 30k now. Love the setting more than current 40k for the most part (that and the rules seem less bloated lol).

 

On 10/16/2022 at 10:24 AM, Kythnos said:

I do like my 40k Iron Warriors to look more corrupted, but yours does look very good and coherent and has the advantage of working for 30k as well as 40k for sure. Great Job!

 

definitely a benefit haha. I went and checked how much stuff I could run in 30k if I was being super strict with armour marks etc, I think I had 15 marines, 15 terminators of various types, few dreadnoughts and rhino chassis vehicles etc. 

 

next payday I feel that tortuga bay may be getting some more orders from me!

[madlibrarian]

Ancient Aspida
 

"Stand down brother. It is the will of the primarch. You are not to enter."

The Iron Warrior legionnaire glared up at the contemptor, his fingers flexing over the sheath of his combat blade. The emptiness of the action was not lost on him, with the chances of him even scratching the mighty dreadnought's armour as likely as him conquering Terra alone. He spat at the dreadnought's feet, and turned to leave.

 

"Our primarch is lost to us now. Horus has him turned."

 

Ancient Aspida lifted his shield, before slamming it on the floor with a resounding clang. 

 

"Our primarch is not lost. You were not there at the beginning brother. You are still a youngling, suckling on the teet of the legion's generosity. I was there when the decimation occurred. I was there when we sailed forth unto the stars, with Perturabo at our head. We were a cosmic force, sweeping stars and planets aside with nought but a thought. We cared not for paying the iron price. We are iron within, and iron without. You? Your mettle is yet to be tested."

 

The Iron Warrior legionnaire hesitated at the threshold of the chamber, his head turning slightly. 

 

"Maybe Aspida, maybe. But just look at you now."

 

The doors hissed shut as the Iron Warrior left, Aspida deactivating his chain mace.

 

______________

 

I'm a big fan of the Iron Circle Domitar models from Forge World, and wanted to do a contemptor version of it. Think 'riot control' meets 'giant killer robot'. 

Managed to snag an Iron Circle shield on eBay, and the rest is plasticard, leviathan bits and a few chains and FW brass icons.

The arms are magnetised and the rest of the weapons are in progress.

 

[madlibrarian]

Praetor Kaizos
 

There had been rumours for weeks. Industrial equipment going missing, often with their usual operators as well. Arbites patrols vanishing, leaving only bullet holes and las blasts as evidence of a struggle. Strange markings had started to be noticed on the walls - propaganda of some kind, but most knew not what it referred to. Most.

 

Kaizos was not 'most'. He was familiar with this foe. This foe wormed its way deep into the heart of the noble citizenry, subverting them and changing them, dragging them down into the abyss of xenos filth. He knew that if left unchecked, the corruption would fester and spread, consuming the entire planet from within, maybe the solar system. 
 

________________

Kaizos had missed his opportunity. The genestealer cultists had eluded him yet again, their target smashed from its incubation tank. A faint trail of dried artificial amniotic fluid hinted at the direction of their escape, leading into a warren of pipes and sewage tunnels. Finding them now would be next to impossible. To not attempt such an action however, would be tantamount to suicide if his superiors discovered such a transgression. Kaizos gave the command. Three squads of Iron Warriors descended into the gloom. 

They would not be seen again.

 

_________________

 

A month later and the cultists and their prize had still not been found. 

Two months later and all warp based communications were stymied. A mysterious darkness preventing any astrotelepathic communications beyond the solar system.

 

Three months later, and the first visible tendrils of the Tyranid swarm could be seen on the edge of the solar system.

 

Four months... four months later and the Iron Warriors found themselves fighting tooth and claw against the insidious xenos menace. 

________________

 

A friendly game between my Iron Warriors and my friend's Tyranids. He chose to deploy length ways, surprising me somewhat given the Tyranids penchant for devastating melee.

 

Turn one was unremarkable on both sides. No major damage was inflicted, despite Prescience on my lascannon havocs, they failed to do any meaningful harm. His turn one mostly involved moving as far up the board as he could, and debating whether or not to spring his genestealers from behind their cover. 

Turn two was where things started to go downhill quite rapidly for the tyranids. Some devastating lascannon shots, coupled with him failing pretty much every save he could, meant that his beefy units got whittled down rather fast. My terminators, equipped with Black Rune of Damnation, also resulted in his Maleceptor suffering a peril, and 3 mortal wounds (a recurrent theme throughout this battle). Most of his chaff units were reduced to ineffective numbers, and coupled with the long distances they'd have to travel, rendered them largely ineffective. Even his genestealers, when they advanced out of cover towards the centre of the board, were wiped out in one turn of shooting by the chaincannon havocs. 

That being said, he managed to whittle my cultists down to 4 out of 10, with the unit failing their morale, and me subsequently rolling three 1's - they all fled! 

 

Turn three was more of the same, with his carnifexes managing to make an impressive charge, jumping onto my terminators and.... inflicting 0 wounds (some had been lost to his psychic shenanigans). In return, one died to melee, before the leviathan dreadnought charged in and assisted the terminators in wiping the last carnifex out. The highlight of this turn was the praetor (counting as a Master of Executions) duking it out with the broodlord, and dispatching him in a single round of combat. 

 

 

Turn four was the routing of the tyranids, with 4 models left on the table, with less than 10 wounds between them. They ended up getting tabled unfortunately. 

Overall, it was a fun little game initially. As mentioned previously, I was surprised my friend chose to go length ways, as I feel this definitely gave me a distinct advantage. Whilst we both used this game to try out new units (Sorcerer, MoE, maleceptor, cultists etc.), it wasn't a fun game once the battle was so heavily in my favour - mainly due to his atrociously unlucky dice rolls!

[Tallarn Commander]

Thanks for the fun battle photos. It sounds like your army performed quite well, although it's too bad that your opponent's dice were so cold. I'm glad to hear that the Black Rune on your termies managed to cause some extra perils.

[madlibrarian]

Tyranus the Tormented
 

Fury. Fury unbridled. 

 

The Imperi... ARGH!

 

Power. Power overwhelming.

 

Ultra-... NO! No... we must not... cannot... remember... they will punish us again!

 

The hooks and pipes burrow deeper - ARGH! They burn! They buuurn! 

 

What had we been before this, this damnable puppet? To now lie ensconced in this iron sarcophagus? 

 

Were we a son of Ultramar? WE MUST REMEMBER! Or were we always just this mewling quim to so dance at the orders of our IVth legion masters? 

 

Why do they pain us so? We have done all they have asked! They had us kill our... former... brothers... wear their flesh... eat them... or was it they eating us? 

 

Is that why we now lie here? Were we made into the legless and armless abomination? It has been so long... the pain so MUCH...

 

What is Ultramar? Is it a place? Or an ideal? Were we that ideal? Were we ever part of that place? We... cannot... remember anymore... We are losing ourselves to this shell...

 

Our arms are gone... our legs are no longer our own... we can feel the warp overtaking us... it is a good pain.

 

 

It's been a minute since I've last updated this page. Forgive me! I had a dissertation to write and a nightmarish christmas period.

 

That being said, I've not been lazy. The above is a culmination of a recent surge in hobby enthusiasm to revamp an old mini of mine. I've also taken part in a few friendly matches, and even placed first in an Arks of Omen tournament (the new AOO list building format I'm less than enthusiastic about). I bought two leviathans, two helbrutes, a contemptor and a warpsmith to emphasise my point of the potential for cheese. 3-0 in the tournament against Khorne daemons, Votann, and Dark Eldar.

 

I've also built and primed a Spartan, as well as built a ten man tactical squad, and a ten man volkite squad, along with a few odd character models who may or may not make an appearance in the future.

 

I've also just this evening finished painting an Iron Circle model, which I may show soon!

 

Cheers all!

[TrawlingCleaner]

You've been busy indeed! Great work on the Dreadnought, it's nice and grubby

 

Looking forward to what comes next!

[madlibrarian]

Well, I promised an Iron Circle model, so here it is!:

 

PER-7-66

 

+++Initiate primary ignition+++

 

3...

 

2...

 

1...

 

+++Ignition sequence successful. Commencing secondary system activations+++

 

3...

 

2...

 

+++ERROR: Pneumatic seal integrity at 17%. Initiating bypass procedure+++

 

3...

 

2...

 

1...

 

+++Bypass procedure successful. Secondary system activations successful. Commence ROSEWOOD PROTOCOL+++

 

__________________________________________

 

The dark mechanicum priest's eyes widened in awe as the slumbering automaton's systems began cycling up. The priesthood had long venerated this technological wonder and studied its intricate systems as best they could in the milennia since the heresy. Rumours abounded that the worship hefted upon it had transformed it, and bestowed upon it incorporeal traits that elevated it from its purely material station. 

A ruddy glow began to manifest from the head of the mighty graviton maul that the iron giant so nonchalantly lifted. Whirring gyros and hissing pneumatics punctuated the air with their artificial whines. The warrior was needed now. The petulent fleas of the XIVth legion had wormed their way past the IVth legion's perimeter defences, and a strike team were headed to destroy the facilities plasma generators.

 

The machine spoke "Iron Circle automaton designation : PER-7-66 awaiting orders."

 

"Defend this facility. Use extreme prejudice. Let not the way of Iron succumb to the pox of the Death Guard." 

 

__________________________________________

The plague marine slammed another magazine into his bolter, before continuing to fire virulent bolt rounds down the corridor. He laughed as the return fire whumped into his bloated mass - the small craters promptly filling with ooze and billious produce. His brothers around him advanced steadily, peppering the outnumbered defenders, bolt rounds hitting home in a torrent of viscera and erupting gore. A scant hundred metres of open hallway lay between them and their quarry. For any other legion, this would be a killing ground, a place for the foe to corral and slaughter the attackers en masse, and with relative impunity. For the Death Guard however, their stoicism and disgustingly resilient bodies were built for this.

 

As more defenders began to fall, their IVth legion pauldrons crumpled and pitted, the Death Guard grew in confidence. They started to saunter up the corridor, wielding their bolters one handed, wet, phlegm filled throats gurgling with noxious laughter. Then, from the makeshift barricades and firing positions of the Iron Warriors, came a single shout:

 

"Iron within! Iron without!"

 

Suddenly, with all the subtlety of a basilisk earthshaker round, came the sole Iron Circle automaton. Its silhouette eclipsed the warriors behind it, casting a shadow that was lost in the depths of the hallway. The Death Guard slowed their advance, eyes darting between each other as they assessed this new threat. Even now, even with 10,000 years of corruption, their astartes training kicked in, suppressing their survival instincts in order to achieve the greater desires of their lords. The XIVth legion advanced again, firing full auto at the towering behemoth. Bolt rounds struck the shield and exploded harmlessly against it - like rain upon a tin roof. In return, the bolt cannons atop its shoulders spat back at the warriors of Nurgle, a great cacophony that etched its way across the corridor, sawing two of the squad in half.

 

Then, then the automaton charged. The agility of it surprised the plague marines. They sought to sever cables and cripple joints, but the machine was too strong, too durable, and far too lethal. It pivoted at its core, slamming the full weight of its shield into the thighs of the first Death Guard - shunting destroyed femur fragments through the posterior thigh plate, before clanging into the wall behind. The Iron Circle warrior then hefted its graviton maul, and with unsettling quiet, bought the impossibly destructive weapon crashing down onto the helm of the next plague marine, pulping their head into their torso, with brain matter spurting out of the helmet's cracked and shattered lenses. 

The last Death Guard hesitated, then reached for a melta charge. Nurgle may view him favourably if he could take the beast with him. He ran at the machine, priming the melta charge. Just before he could launch it however, the automaton sprung forward, its powerful leg hydraulics forcing its knee forward and into the gut of the plague warrior. His hands could no longer hold onto the charge, and it was smacked away by the slab shield. It clattered uselessly down the hallway, before detonating in a miasma of heat and iridescent light. 

 

Kneeling, coughing up blood and other necrotic fluids, the final plague marine lifted his face, just as the maul connected. 

 

[madlibrarian]

Apollo's Fist

 

Deximus slid another magazine into his bolter as rounds slammed into the plascrete above his head, showering him with dust and debris. He checked his auspex, cursing as he saw the numbers stacked against him and his beleaguered squad. There were four of them left now, against nearly two dozen sons of the angel. He shouldered his weapon and fired a short burst above his parapet, hearing the telltale sound of bolt round on ceramite. If nothing else, at least he'd take a few of the pathetic artists and painters with him. 

 

His second in command started to shout a warning to him, before their head was vaporised by a IXth legion melta, its wielder having stormed the corner under covering fire. Deximus had just emptied his magazine. He flung the bolter aside, and hurled himself at the Blood Angel. Their bodies met as two slabs of granite, slamming into each other with furious abandon. Deximus bludgeoned a fist into his opponents helmet, again, and again, and again. The IXth legionnaire however, was far more graceful. He had drawn his combat blade, and had already slammed it home into the gap beneath Deximus' left arm. Deximus coughed up thick, bloody froth, before bringing a stinging elbow into the helmet of his enemy, buckling the nose-cone and setting the helmet ajar, before they separated.

 

The son of Sanguinius removed his once pristine helm. He placed it on the ground with care, before stepping to circle the Iron Warrior. Deximus removed his own. His mark III helmet pitted and scored with las burns and deflected rounds. He was smiling.

 

Faint screeching could be heard.

 

The angel stopped, and pointed his blade at Deximus. His fair skin and golden hair betraying the lethal presentation of his arms and armour. "Today you die, traitor. Today I will murder you, and your kin. Your deaths will go unmarked and unrecorded. No one will remember your name, dog."

 

The screeching got louder. 

 

Deximus looked up to the sky. The trails of attack craft soaring overhead, anti-aircraft tracer fire, and the upper atmosphere light displays indicating the cosmic battle taking place. He stared back at the Blood Angel. "We are Iron Within. We are Iron Without. We do not crave remembrance. We know our place. I know mine." He paused as he sensed movement in his peripheral vision. Ah yes. The rest of the angels had come to see the duel. How many now surrounded him? Ten? Fifteen? It mattered not. "Two minutes ago I sent a signal to our fire support."

 

Realisation spread across the IXth legionnaire's face. The Blood Angels immediately began spreading out as the souce of the screeching became undeniably apparent. 

 

Deximus raised his arms to welcome the barrage. His service was at an end. 

 

 

 

I've always loved these models. To me, they represent a quintessential cornerstone of the IVth legion : long-ranged heavy fire.

Unfortunately, in game, these models - particularly in 40k - are underperformers. The CP cost really hampers them, and there are frankly better heavy support options. That being said, as someone who eschews the fleshy messes that are daemons and daemon engines, this is a great unit. 

 

There's much more coming up "soon". I've got another leviathan, 25 or so marine variants, as well as a duo of converted bikers and the spartan still to progress with. I suspect the dread will be next, then the marines and bikers. The spartan is quite a daunting challenge. We'll see! No promises on when the next update will be, I paint in fits and starts.

Edited April 18, 2023 by madlibrarian

[madlibrarian]

Ancient Venetos

 

Acidic rain pelted down upon the leviathan's armoured hull. The planet had been brought into compliance within a single standard Terran year. Whole cities had been atomized. Billions of lives ended abruptly. The earth, now scarred and pitted like the Luna of old. The vast grey plains of the northern provinces of Manthalax stretched out before the ancient warrior-machine. Behind him lay the withered and desecrated husk of the final bastion of Manthalaxian arrogance. It had held out for mere hours. The combined might of the Iron Warriors on the planet, having been harnessed and pointed all at one singular target; rendered any attempt at defiance a laughable matter. 

 

Ancient Venetos surveyed his kill counter - a 'gift' from the World Eaters legion after his sojourn with them left him requiring the dreadnought's systems. 112. 112 souls claimed by the deluge of weapons fire he had at his disposal. 112 individuals whose lives could have been spent in service to the Emperor. 112 people. 112 humans. 

 

The mighty dreadnought turned, and stared again at the Manthalaxian's self-erected monument to stupidity.

 

He would have forgotten this place by the time his vessel left the system. 

 

 

I thoroughly enjoyed making this model. The weapons are interchangeable, and I'll probably be done painting the meltas at some point in the next few months. I'm too big of a fan of the storm cannons to want to change them anytime soon!

 

I'm not overly happy with this model's paint job. Whilst it's definitely serviceable, there seems to be something lacking for me. It doesn't seem to gel as well as previous models. I'm not sure what I'd do to change it however. 

 

The rest of the army marches on slowly. I've also finished constructing two contemptor dreadnoughts - I'm keeping these deliberately basic with heavy bolters and graviton fists as their primary armanent. I'm a big fan of bolter weapons, even if they are somewhat lacklustre in game!

Edited April 27, 2023 by madlibrarian