From the Grim Pine Wilds of Finland...DDDDDDDRRRRRRRRIIIILLLLLLBBJJJOOOOOORRRRRNNNNN
The greatest of Scandinavia's white bears, drillbjorn stands twelve feet high and weighs three thousand pounds in armour. On one arm he carries a tungsten-bladed pneumatic drill, balanced on the other arm by an oaken shield - to which is affixed a genuine Viking anvil as counterweight. Ancient among bears, Drillbjorn has been a mining beast, a pit fighter and a weapon of war in his homeland, and has been shipped here to die as a warrior - or reign supreme in Odin's name. Drillbjorn is aged and past his prime, but has been battle tested over decades and is gifted in the use of his wargear. Although he has not been touched by sorcery or science and wears only simple armour, he is - as all would agree - fucking Brutal.
Top Trumps Scores:
Size: 12 feet high, weighing 3,000 lbs
Attack: 7/10 – Drillbjorn is only effective at close range and where he can get leverage for his drill, but has a devastatingly strong attack.
Defence: 7/10 – An oaken shield bound in iron plus patches of iron armour.
Speed: 3/10 - Slow and creaky with age, yet hampered further by weight of metal.
Resilience: 7/10 – Drillbjorn will rest only when Thor's hand rests upon his shoulder in Valhalla.
Evil: 4/10 – Drillbjorn lives to kill for forgotten Gods, but has no preference who falls for their honour.
Rage: 5/10 – Too hardened by time to carry a real flame of fury, drillbjorn is content to fight under the steam of a colder, more purposeful rage.
Likes: Salmon, Honour, Power Chords
Dislikes: Not being in a fight, defeat, bands that don't sing in Finnish
From the lawless ports of the Ivory Coast... U-U-U-ULTRAPPPPHHHAAAANNNTTT!
Many elephants are butchered on Africa's barren northwest coast to feed the ravenous piano mills of Europe, but some are worth keeping. Towering 13 feet at the shoulder and weighing 12,000lb, Ultraphant has done well in betraying his species. Now with an Iridium morningstar instead of a trunk and clad in boots of Arab-forged Ceramic armour, he strides the foggy coastal dunes and the night-cloaked scrublands in search of others of his kind - and then mercilessly batters them to death for the ivory collectors. It is said that he feasts on the meat of his own kind and joins with his Mohammedan masters in the slaughter of Christian babies, but whatever the rumours it is plain as day that this joyless executioner is a beast with a dead soul.
Top Trumps Scores:
Size: 12,000lb, and 15 feet high at the shoulder.
Attack: 7/10 – An impossibly dense morningstar, the goring of steel-tipped tusks, plus the trampling of four ceramic-hardened elephant feet.
Defence: 8/10 – Elephantine hide andleg protection, plus the hardness that comes with murdering your own extended family for a living.
Resilience: 7/10 – A Lord of Inertia.
Speed: 5/10 - Stealthy, purposeful and disconcertingly graceful as the reaper.
Evil: 9/10 – Black deeds, black heart.
Rage: 5/10 – There will be time for anger in hell
Likes: Cold mornings by the shark-haunted sea, death rattles, sand
Dislikes: Elephants, everything else on earth
Pardon Me: A Clarification on Ultraphant
I meant to put this in the title card for the fight, but in the heat of the moment it slipped my memory.
Ultraphant has a winch in his skull that can wind the morningstar's steel chain (only the ball is iridium) in or out between fully retracted and twelve feet long. He can do this at great speed - hence avoiding tangling, self-battery and balance loss.
BATTLE IS JOINED
BATTLE IS JOINED
BATTLE IS JOINED
Drillbjorn strides without fear from his holding cell, into an arena that has been filled with clammy white mist. He wades through the fog with weapons raised, ready to spring on the source of any sound. Senses tuned to the best of his fading ability, he awaits the approach of elephantine feet...
The mohammedan beast approaches like a specter, treading lightly on feet armoured to silence their tread on sand at night. A dread shape loops noiselessly through the tendrils of vapour with the motion of a whip, but bearing a spiked ball of Iridium at its tip. The remains of heroic instincts whip Drillbjorn's head back quickly enough to avoid an instantaneous braining, but not quickly enough to save the side of his face and his right eye. He is thrown yards forward as the ultraphant scoops and tosses his reeling form in its tusks, coming to rest in a pile of rubble at the arena's side.
Gushing blood from a skull full of holes and a shattered ankle, Drillbjorn staggers to his feet through grim, iron will. He raises his shield and activates his drill as the monster approaches, for he has no fear. The charge of the ultraphant sends rocks tumbling from the top of the arena wall, but Drillbjorn stands his blood-soaked ground.
Ultraphant impacts, and smashes Drillbjorn's shield like plywood. A tusk slams through his already shredded thigh, while the reinforced bone of the brute's skull crumples his ribs. His body is impaled and thrashed in the air, shedding chunks of hot flesh with every jerk. Still Drillbjorn keeps his face set, and his patience held. The Gods have given him his opportunity.
HAIL TO THE HAMMER
Ultraphant has crumpled, short of a functioning brain. Drillbjorn is more wounded than most things in our kitchen meat lockers, but his heart's still beating. That means he's on to the next round, folks!
Our man the ripper should be along shortly to let us know what's going down next...