The Last Hurrah
Chosen of Heimdallr
He spent all of his relatively short life working in the Finnish police force. His city had a relatively small precinct, a fairly average sized 3 story building staffed by 30 officers.
Just like every other officer, he started off as a regular street cop, keeping the peace where ever he could, and when he couldn’t keep the peace, he made sure things ended quickly, and usually quite brutally.
After a good 12 years on the streets, Bjørn ended up being assigned to investigation. He took to it surprisingly well, becoming very adept at spotting clues, tracking suspects and making sure city stayed safe.
10 years on and Bjørn finds himself chief investigator and the ranking officer of his cities police department. Which is just in time for the biggest case the city had ever seen, a rather sizeable crime syndicate had started to establish themselves throughout the various pockets of criminals in the city, which with their help, was slowly transformed into a full scale criminal underground.
After a year of investigation by himself and almost the entire investigations department, they’d finally unravelled enough to start making arrests and dismantling the various illegal enterprises throughout the city for good. All they had to do was call in reinforcements from the other nearby cities, because this raid was too big for just them to handle. Sadly however, the syndicates reinforcements arrived first…
They only had an hours warning before they assaulted the precinct in broad daylight. In that time Bjørn managed to rally his men and mount more resistance than the syndicate forces were expecting from such a small number of officers. The police had managed to blockade and entrench positions throughout the entire building, falling back to the next choke point every time their position was compromised. They only had so many men, and they were still dying fast, regardless of how good their defences were. The chain of choke points led the attacking forces snaking through the first, second and third floors, and then back down the restricted stairway to the basement where the armoury and evidence lockers are. By that point it was only Bjørn who was left.
He’d hoped it wouldn’t get this far, but the syndicate had more men than any of them had expected, but just in case, Bjørn had one last trick in store for them.
They’d pushed Bjørn back into the armoury itself, there was only one way in, but they knew he was quite badly wounded by this point. Someone who seemed to be in charge of the attacking forces called for a pause in hostilities, so they could mockingly offer Bjørn a chance to surrender and “live”, but the entire city would be forfeit to their organisation.
All they got in reply was a mighty roar of laughter from the wounded Bjørn, but what they didn’t know was that the laughter wasn’t at their offer, but because they hadn’t recognised a crucial detail. At no point had any of Bjørn’s men used their grenades, or any other kind of explosive they’d from their many raids for traps, it would have made sense when defending a fixed position. Neither had they, in the chaos of battle, realised the holes smashed into several walls down in the basement.
Bjørn knew he would never leave that armoury alive, but he smiled regardless, because he would be with his friends again soon. He finished reloading his shotgun, lit his last cigar along with a set of fuses, then made one final charge out of the armour and into a hail of gunfire as the major structural pillars detonated and brought the entire building down on top of them.
Bjørn died that day, along with his entire staff… And every single criminal who took part in the assault.
Singing. That was the first thing that came out of the darkness, and it wasn’t the kind of singing you’d hear from choir, or anyone who’s sober really. Slowly, it became clearer, and he noticed it change as he stirred, a powerful rumble was now accompanying every word, and it was all the same word.
He opened his eyes to a maelstrom of sound and light, the chanting and rumbles he’d heard were now deafening and shook his very bones.
“Bjørn! Bjørn! Bjørn! Bjørn!” With a uncountable fists smashing into tables to punctuate each word. As he sat forward from the large and extremely comfortable animal pelt covered chair, the chant erupted into an joyous roar of victory.
A horn of mead was thrust into Bjørns hand as he looked around, he was in a hall that seemed to stretch on forever, lined with massive tables overflowing with all manner of food and drink, rowdier than any pub he’d ever seen but not a trace of true hostility anywhere.
It was then that Bjørn realised, the people, he knew some of them, they were the friends he’d lost. Not just those who’d died with him, but all the friends who’d died beside him over the years in defence of their city and its people. He wept with joy as he joined the merriment.
Time past, how much time, Bjørn couldn’t tell, for the need to sleep simply does not exist here, they know only the joys of feasting and brawling, forever more. But Bjørn’s forever more can wait, for he has been summoned to the great watch post Himinbjörg.
Heimdallr recognised Bjørns worth as a guardian of society and so granted him the chance to once again take up arms and defend the innocent.
And so began Bjørn’s adventures, seeing the world he knew in a completely new light, and knowing that, victory or defeat, Valhalla awaits his return.
Interesting Item: Ornate drinking horn engraved with various Nordic runes. While in Valhalla, Bjørn met a rather friendly warrior by the name of Beowulf. They bonded quite quickly over their love of violence, Beowulf helped Bjørn improve his close quarters combat, while Bjørn taught Beowulf to use a shotgun. When Bjørn was summoned to Himinbjörg, Beowulf gifted him the drinking horn as a good luck charm
Interesting Person: Hildr, Valkyrie. During Bjørn’s time working for Heimdallr, he has been tasked with slaying various monsters. During some encounters, he has ended up with certain mortals who wish to aid him in his battles against the evil that infests the world. Although such individuals who do so willingly and with full knowledge of the risks are rare, every one which has fallen in battle was greeted by the parting of the heavens, and the beauty of a warrior maiden descending through the blinding light upon golden wings to guide them to the other side. Strangely, it’s always the same Valkyrie which retrieves Bjørn’s fallen mortal comrades and, well, the two of them get along quite well. On the occasions when Hildr’s arrive and Bjørn’s mission being complete lines up, they’ve gotten into the habit of going for a drink and a good brawl afterwards.
Obsession: Hold the line
Rage: Unfair play
Fear: Non-violent solutions
Noble: Protect and serve