Going Native

"You look to be an Unreal level", he stated. "Am I correct?" He asked. "In case you hadn't realised I have achieved a iridescent level".
Hammerhand regarded his captive, who was small overweight and dressed in some luxuriously foppish robes of discretely matching but bright colours. He was eye catching but there was nothing remotely iridescent about him. Hammerhand sighed. He had definitely felt unreal about the whole situation as soon as he had managed to get discretely ashore. He needed some tools.
"Do you have any tools?" He asked.
"Of course I have," replied the captive, "but why would an unreal want an iridescent tools?"

We are all dead men

"By Imperial Decree, of our God Emperor, all who are exposed to Chaos must be removed permanently from the Imperial Commonwealth of Man to protect the innocent and pure majority of citizens from the least taint of the traitor forces of Chaos."

Interrogator Hammerhand stated to the council. He had donned one of his many uniforms, this one cut in the design of an Heroic Cadian Karskin Captain.

Commissar Sweetfruit

"Death comes to us all", shouted the Commissar. "Death in the service of the God Emperor comes only to the privileged few." The conscripts cowered, except for Alfus from Belisimar.
"Death should be slavering for that one", he whispered to his friend Theodosius, "if there is any justice". Alfus had been press-ganged into a New Etrurian Free Company while drunk after a works night out. Sweetfruit had pulled his power sword out and was slashing it through the air around his head. The power in this blade made the air sparkle and sing as it swept from ear to ear. Sweetfruit's blade was a family heirloom and had been handed down through four generations of illustrious ancestors until it had arrived at their unworthy descendant, Tatum Sweetfruit, Commissar by privilege and inheritance.

Hammerhand Arrives

A bit about Hammerhand.

Hammerhand dreams. He trained as an apprentice Enginseer in the Imperial Foundries on Mars. He dreams and dreams. Some of his dreams are still of becoming an Enginseer. Following exactly and faithfully and honorably the blueprints of the Imperium. But some dreams are more troublesome. One dark night some bound tightly to his soul and have caused him no end of trouble.

You realise that sometimes he dreams of improvements to the war machines of the Imperium, including - yes, including deviation from the sacred perfection of the master plans. Naturally for the greater good. And yes just as naturally also for him. And, yes unfortunately, on a good-bad day he told his Enginseer Master of his dreams.

Hammerhand now wants to tell of his questions, his creations, his apprentice pieces, his master works and perhaps reveal his sources of inspiration.

Once shortly after he started his apprenticeship on Mars Hammerhand asked himself,

"What is the point of the armoured fist units of the imperial guard?"

"Not much use in close combat, and in terms of firepower a single squad of infantry with BS 3 aren't going to stop a charging squad of chaos deviants before they chop the grunts to bits. OK so the Chimera has reasonable armour stats with D3 multilaser and heavy bolter shots. Only the heavy bolter has decent stats. But if the grunts had a lascannon and sharpshooter skills and I enginseered the Chimera to mount an autocannon in the turret and twin linked heavy bolters on the hull that would give them a bit of shootyness"

Alas Hammerhand's works on the Chimera gained him demerits for failing to follow the Forgeworlds way.