Fluffenhammer Community - Homebrew Hobbying

Since the Fluffenhammer began, we have tried to think of ways to make this a community driven site. We came across the idea of showcasing not only people’s armies…but more importantly, the homemade lore that went into it. What we could not have expected was this incredible article by Darren Burrows showcasing his Imperial Guard force. Not just the miniatures, but the presentation and fiction. A stunning entry into Homebrew Hobbying

-Adam

Forging the Dockyard Guard: A narrative army project 

This idea took root when the plastic Auxilia were first revealed. Like many others, I immediately thought, "Imperial Guard naval units? Sweet... I do like model planes... Maybe I should do a flier-heavy army with these guys as the ground pounders?" Cue several months of spiralling, trying to make this work beyond just the odd unit or two.

Thanks to Guilliman and his thrice damned Codex, we have a distinct separation of concerns in the Imperium—the Navy doesn’t engage in land wars, and the Guard doesn’t fight naval battles. Which almost put paid to me going ahead with this. 

Of course, there are exceptions. The Navy does put boots on the ground in certain situations. Abnett’s Eisenhorn series gives us Gregor being extracted by a few units of Naval Security with aerial support. Beyond that, and a handful of old books, there hasn’t been much about the Navy’s armsmen actively participating in combat outside of voidships however.

The inspiration finally struck while re-reading an old favourite—Dan Abnett’s Double Eagle, a novel about aerial combat featuring the Guard’s only airborne regiment, the Phantine Air Corps. If Abnett could bend the rules, why couldn’t I? The ideas started to form, though I still wasn’t convinced by the concept of a naval ship deploying its armsmen into ground-based combat. Since I was reading the peripheral novels for the Sabbat Worlds, I decided to dive into and finally finish (or more accurately; read all of) the Gaunt’s Ghosts series, which finally gave me the answers I was looking for.

And so, Solstross Minoris was born.

Many of my ideas are heavily inspired by the Sabbat Worlds series, as well as happy accidents while working on miniatures. I latched onto concepts like tertiary PDF (thanks to Titanicus) — the last reserves of the last reserves. Units of scratch companies (Necropolis comes to mind, as does Traitor General, to a lesser extent) — civilians who, with no other choice and a determination to defend their home, grabbed whatever weapons they could and took the fight to the enemy — either brazenly and openly, or through resistance cells and behind-the-lines sabotage.

All of this tied neatly into my initial desire to run an army built around the new Auxilia miniatures — a force that represents dire times, where the usual rules of the Codex might be broken out of necessity, providing a plausible route to get naval troops onto the ground.

Finally, in a moment of blissful coincidence, Codex: Imperial Agents was announced, just as I was solidifying the core concepts. This led me to explore the inclusion of Rogue Traders and Inquisitors, as they offered both thematic and practical tools for a flier-heavy, voidship-supported battle force.

The Fall of Solstross

Solstross Minoris is a desolate but vital moon orbiting Solstross Prime, primarily serving as a massive naval dry dock. Its parent planet was once home to sprawling pleasure districts — bars, restaurants, and other forms of entertainment venues catering to troops stuck planetside — alongside manufactorums, noble estates, military barracks, and countless support facilities for the great shipyards above.

Though harsh and industrial, Solstross Minoris was alive—its towering hive spires housed dock workers, logistical crews, refinery teams, and naval support personnel. In orbit above, a vast web of dry docks encircled the moon like the rings of Saturn, stretching hundreds of miles across, layered upon itself—a man-made jewel of steel and industry that defined the system.

Then, the Great Rift opened, and much like the rest of the galaxy, Solstross was not spared from this calamity. 

Reality itself split apart, plunging the system into total chaos—literally. Gibbering daemons materialised from thin air, as latent psykers suddenly discovered their newfound, uncontrolled abilities, tearing open rifts into the Warp that vomited forth horrors by the hundreds.

And as if waiting for this precise moment, a fleet of ancient, corrupted warships translated deep within the system. Their arrival shattered the already-weakened boundaries of reality.

Caught between warp-spawned madness and traitor fleet elements, the system’s defenders never stood a chance.

The dry docks were obliterated. Hundreds of moored ships were consumed by madness, fire, and blood before their crews could even react. The few that did respond either fled in desperation—some escaping into the void, others attempting a doomed counterattack. But they were too few, their coordination shattered. For every ship of the Arch-Enemy that was destroyed, multiple Loyalist vessels were lost to the void. 

By the end of the massacre, the dry docks lay in ruin. Segments of the vast orbital stations—once the pride of the sector—burned and tumbled from the sky, their wreckage crashing into the surface of Solstross Minoris. In the hives below, survivors watched as the shattered remains of warships plummeted to their deaths, carving fire-filled wounds into the ash-choked sky.

For those left behind, survival seemed impossible.

Then, at the system’s edge, a single ship emerged from the Warp.

The Somber Noctavigant: The Last Hope

The Somber Noctavigant—an ancient, storied vessel, its name whispered in both reverence and dread—had arrived.

At its helm stood Trader-Militant Severian Rhaul, a man whose lineage had walked the thin line between Imperial legitimacy and Rogue Trader autonomy for generations. He had come to Solstross to reclaim lost family holdings in the dry docks — ancient contracts, forgotten titles, and the ghosts of old privilege. Instead, he inherited a war.

Using its late arrival to its advantage, the Noctavigant struck hard. Some elements of the Chaos fleet had already moved on to new targets, leaving the forces in orbit momentarily exposed. Its macrocannons and lance batteries disrupted their hold, buying the shattered defenders a precious moment of respite.

But it was already too late.

The battle for the void was lost, and the war on the surface had only just begun. Tens of thousands of Chaos cultists, traitor marines, and worse had already begun their descent. The docks, the cities, the people—nothing would be spared.

The surviving troops had no illusions. They were the last Imperial force left standing. And if reinforcements were coming, they were still light-years away.

The Last Stand Begins

With the Imperial Navy gutted, the only organised warriors left were Naval Security armsmen, station guards, and scattered remnants of the PDF. What should have been a disorganised scattering of survivors instead became a defiant army, forged in the fires of desperation.

The Somber Noctavigant took command, deploying its elite private forces—Rhaul’s cadre, a mix of mercenaries, ex-Navy veterans, ex-veteran Guardsmen, every one of them a void-hardened killer. From the wreckage in orbit, it salvaged what little remained, providing fliers, munitions, and armour to the fighters below.

On the ground, leadership fell to men like Marshal Halbrecht Voss — a former Imperial Navy officer now forced to lead in a theatre of war he was never trained for. Captain Doran “Ironhand” Luthais led what remained of the Solstross PDF, his salvaged power fist a symbol of defiance as he rallied his shattered regiments.

But it wasn’t just soldiers who took up arms.

Foreman Kellen Arros, a shipyard overseer turned militia leader, led workers wielding repurposed industrial rigs and makeshift weapons. Jonas “Sparks” Galloway, a former welder, modified his torch into a flamethrower, reinforcing barricades under enemy fire. Artisans like Delphine Rho took to the highways, converting fuel hauliers into rolling war machines, while Kastor Fel, a black-market dealer, kept supply chains open through coercion, barter, and the kind of deals that never came cheap.

The Army

So, the scene is set for the army—a mix of whatever could escape the shipyard: guards, medics, technicians, logisticians, and anyone who survived the initial attacks on the moon and planet. Then, of course, there’s Severian Rhaul’s militia and vehicles—small void-capable fighters, atmospheric fliers, and ancient, revered ground vehicles, some dating back to when his family was first granted their article of trade. Added to that are whatever resources can be scavenged from the few intact sections of the shipyard or the local PDF’s remaining vehicle depots and hidden caches across the battlefield.

The beauty of this setup is that it allows for a very hodgepodge-looking army that can pull from multiple ranges and factions. It’s given me the perfect excuse to dig out some utterly archaic sculpts from my various carry cases, bits boxes, and other places they’ve been squirreled away over the years. As well as an excuse to flex my hobby muscles and try some conversion ideas to help me learn and improve my skills.  Old metal Catachans become scratch company units. Metal tank crews serve as members of the tertiary PDF—ragtag survivors who never expected to see real combat, under-equipped and forced to scavenge what they can.I’ve got ideas starting to form for kitbashes and conversions—Squat models, Ogryns, and Necromunda minis for more scratch companies - old Cadians and whatever STL files I can find for various PDF units. And, of course, the Auxilia, the spark that started all of this, forming the naval forces of Severian Rhaul.

Naturally, I have to include the Kill Team Naval Arms-men—because how could I not considering the void based aspect of some of the army? Oh and if I decide that The Noctavigant belongs to an Inquisitor, I have some very suitable STLs to represent their retinue, which are based on the Necromundan Spiders artwork, which honestly fit the theme and inspiration perfectly (and also gives me an excuse to buy even more necromunda minis to add to the pile I already want for the project.)

It’s all still very WIP — only a small handful of minis are built or painted at this point — and the scope has already crept well beyond what I initially planned. And, well… this is probably the part where it really starts to get out of hand.

Since it’s a shipyard, I can already justify including some AdMech allies — of course the Mechanicus would have a presence, whether it’s an orbital forge or something planet- or moon-side. Knights? Same deal — they’re loosely tied to the Mechanicus, and if this is a key location, it makes sense they’d be stationed here too, to aid in its defence.

And with it being an orbital dockyard, you’ve got ships coming and going with all sorts of forces aboard. Maybe their vehicles are landlocked while the ship’s in for repairs or a refit. Titans? Hell yes. A military installation like this would absolutely warrant god-engine protection.

Same logic applies to other factions like the Adeptus Sororitas or Astartes — maybe they were docked for resupply, managed to evacuate before their ship was destroyed, or pulled away just in time and now provide support from orbit.

While I’ll be keeping things mostly Guard-based, I like having the flexibility to throw in allies with quick justifications. It opens up a ton of narrative options — and if I can make it work in-universe, then I can, arguably, justify fielding it or working it into the ongoing lore of the beleaguered Solstross system

The Minis

While the in-universe pics are a cool concept, they don’t really showcase the handful of models I’ve actually built so far — so below are some much cleaner, better-lit shots.

At the moment, there’s not much fully painted — just a couple of planes (I’ll need at least double, possibly triple, that for the lists I want to try), a few old metal Catachans I’ve been blitzing through as scratch company troops, and a test unit of Auxilia. These, like some of the armour and planes, are pulling double duty — destined to become 40K-compatible Guard squads, but I also want enough spares to replace the Guard squad options and allow me to run them as Heresy units too.

There are a few vehicles as well — some of the armour has had a bit of Night Shift-style modelling work done: flame-cut etching on the edges, Tamiya putty added to panels for subtle texture, and the Taurus Venator has been slightly kitbashed to fit the Legends rules for the unit. 

Beyond that, I’ve got plenty waiting in the wings — another 30 Auxilia, including command squads, countless old metal minis (some ready for painting, others still needing to be stripped), a pile of inquisitorial retinue figures, some third-party sculpts that blend in nicely, Naval Armsmen, and more. There are also a few more vehicles, unfinished fliers, and Sentinels that still need some work.

A few pieces from my collection that are fully usable now didn’t make it into these photos — ones I couldn’t find in time or didn’t fancy digging out short-term — like the old power loader Sentinel, some classic Necromunda Escher gangers, and so on.

These first three armour units still need some work to finish them off — but for the cinematic photos above, they more than do the job. All of them have had a bit of Night Shift-style surface texture work done, adding etched weld lines or roughened panels where it felt appropriate. They’re painted in Severian Rhaul’s colours, representing personal contributions from his arsenal to the war effort.

The Salamander is an old favourite of mine. It’s where the idea for the tertiary PDF began — a massively battered, barely-holding-together vehicle kept running through sheer force of will and brutal field repairs. I got a bit overexcited with the weld lines, so it’s taken on a proper Ork-mechanic vibe — just enough work to get it roadworthy again.

The two vehicles below are painted differently to reflect their origins — clearly not from the same stockpile as the prior three. In hindsight, I should’ve painted the Venator in a totally different scheme again, to make it more obviously a repurposed civilian ground car or Arbites/enforcer vehicle rather than PDF gear.

Then there’s the Lightning Strike — quite possibly my favourite Imperial aircraft of all time. I’m still gutted it no longer has rules support (at least not without heavy proxying). This and the two aircraft below it match Rhaul’s palette again, showing they’re part of his void-armoury, not the general planetary defence.

Like the majority of the vehicles, the two remaining fliers are close but not quite done — they still need weathering, streaking, and a bit of finishing work. The paint is blocked in and serviceable, but they’re not quite battle-worn enough yet to match the setting. There's a theme other than colours where my fliers are concerned - specifically around the squadron numbers - they’re all nods to classic Roland Synth models from the 80s and 90s. (808, 303 etc)

The Arvus? I love this little shit-box of a ship. It’s been painted to look like a thoroughly beat-up civvie shuttle — chipped, scuffed, lived-in, its underside covered in blistered paint and scorch marks from its many re-entries from space. The stripes on the wings help it tie into the broader force despite its different colour scheme. Fun fact: I suspect this may have been the last resin Arvus sold in the UK — I found it on the shelf at WHW long after it had vanished from the online store. Long term, I’d also like one or two of the plastic versions too, which will absolutely be painted up in Rhaul’s colours, since it seems to be more militarily kitted out, so more fitting to his needs. 

Finally, the footsloggers. There’s not many so far — can you tell I enjoy painting vehicles more than troops?

First up are the Auxilia, painted to match Rhaul’s armour elements with the same blue/blue-grey scheme. Then there’s a mix: an old Necromunda figure and classic Guard models. The heavy stubber armed Delaque from Necromunda was painted decades ago and desperately needs a strip and repaint, while the four Catachans are a recent quick-and-dirty job, deliberately mismatched to reflect their role in the civilian “scratch company.” That lone Cadian was painted by a friend and came bundled in with some old guard plastics I bought off him a while ago — he snuck into a couple of photo shoots, so it only felt fair to include him here too. Besides, just because the local defence forces were mostly wiped out doesn’t mean there weren’t any survivors.

The Future

One thing I’ve realised — thanks to writing this article — is that I’m enjoying the photography side of things a lot more than I expected. So much so that, when I’m not so time-poor, I’d like to revisit some of the cinematic shots and actually do them properly — especially since I’d never tried anything like this before.

But me being me, I can never keep anything simple. So when Adam put out the call for some Readers’ Armies articles, I kinda went off the deep end.

I feel like this is something I want to take further with this army — to build ongoing lore and stories, create in-universe style imagery, and write narrative for whatever games I manage to play. I want to turn them into a living, breathing faction, rather than just a bunch of toy soldiers that occasionally get pushed around a tabletop or left on a shelf to look pretty.

That would mean building up backgrounds with more scenery, thinking properly about framing and lighting, maybe even using real backdrops — or adding better matched lighting elements in post. I’d want the setups to feel more grounded: add smoke effects, scenic rubble, dirt — generally push the realism further. Hell, I could even see myself getting into 3D modelling just to build virtual sets that make compositing scenery and miniatures easier and more convincing.

Everything I used for this article was super fast and rough — all done on a tablet on the sofa. I didn’t put much thought into it beyond “I want to show a patrol scene,” or “it’d be cool to have a fire team holding a landing bay while a ship’s being loaded.” The compositing was quick and dirty: Game screenshots (mostly Fallout 3) as backdrops, with some basic image layering thrown in. I gave zero thought to camera angles or lighting until it was often too late — which led to a lot of frantic Googling for something vaguely suitable. Hopefully, that explains why it all looks a bit rough and amateurish.