[h1]Bjorn The Fell-Handed[/h1]

Bjorn was completely consumed by the battle outside of the crew quarters. It had been so many millenia, that the thought of slaying countless enemies was almost enough to give him an erection, if he was capable of doing such an act. He laughed heartily as his great claw sliced up Shadow Eternity goons. The Golden icons of wolves now running red with blood. They hadn't been expecting a tank to meet them, so most of them were running, their weapons useless against his thick Ceramite plating. "NEVER TEARDROP IN FRONT OF A FLAMER!!!" he roared as the Flamer that was built into his claw blew a great torrent of Prometheum fueled flame. As allied reinforcements seemed to show up, they would find nothing but the giant tank laughing amid a pool of gore, ice and flames.