Bjorn: The Fell-Handed is one of those legendary figures in Warhammer 40k lore that just sticks with you. He's a Space Marine, specifically a member of the Space Wolves Chapter, and one of the oldest living warriors in the Imperium. What makes him so fascinating is that he's a Dreadnought—a massive, armored sarcophagus carrying the remnants of a once-mighty warrior. Unlike most Dreadnoughts, Bjorn isn't just a relic; he's a revered hero who fought alongside the primarch Leman Russ himself during the Great Crusade and the Horus Heresy.
His nickname, 'The Fell-Handed,' comes from a grievous injury he sustained in battle, but even as a near-crippled warrior interred in a walking war machine, he's still a force to be reckoned with. The Space Wolves treat him almost like a living saint, waking him from his long slumbers only for the most dire battles or to share wisdom. There's something deeply tragic yet awe-inspiring about Bjorn—he's a relic of a bygone era, a living memory of a time when the Emperor still walked among men. Every time he speaks, it feels like history itself is talking.
Bjorn’s story is pure 40k tragedy at its finest. Imagine being one of the greatest warriors of your era, fighting alongside gods, only to end up trapped in a machine, sleeping for centuries at a time. That’s Bjorn. He’s not just a Dreadnought; he’s the last of Leman Russ’s companions still 'alive,' and the Space Wolves treat him like a mix of a relic and a battle standard. His moments of wakefulness are rare, but when he speaks, even the Chapter’s leaders listen.
There’s a scene in the 'Battle of the Fang' where Bjorn gets woken up mid-siege, and his reaction is basically, 'Ugh, why did you idiots let things get this bad?' It’s darkly funny, but also kind of sad—he’s seen it all, and yet here he is, still fighting for a crumbling Imperium. That’s what makes him so cool: he’s a warrior out of time, carrying the weight of history on his mechanical shoulders.
If you're into Warhammer 40k, Bjorn is basically the grandpa of the Space Wolves—except this grandpa is a giant murder machine. He’s one of the few characters who’s been around since the Horus Heresy, and his survival is nothing short of miraculous. Most Dreadnoughts are just war machines, but Bjorn? He’s got personality. The Wolves treat him with this weird mix of reverence and casual respect, like an ancient uncle who occasionally wakes up to drop some wisdom or smash some enemies.
What I love about him is how he bridges the past and present. He remembers Leman Russ, the Emperor, all the old legends—stuff most 40k characters only know as myths. His sarcastic wit (yes, a Dreadnought can be sarcastic) makes him feel oddly human despite being a hulking metal coffin. There’s a great moment in the lore where he basically tells a bunch of younger Space Wolves to stop being idiots, and it’s hilarious because, well, he’s earned the right. Bjorn isn’t just a weapon; he’s a living link to a forgotten golden age, and that makes him one of the most compelling figures in the setting.
Bjorn Gydlin,, the rebellious son of surface trader, Captain Radoon Gydlin endures dreams of places he hasn’t seen, and disasters that haven’t happened. When he visits Below with his father, and runs head-on into physical wonders, unnecessary violence, and prejudice toward surface dwellers, the links between dreams and reality trigger his desire to bring a change to the here and now as well as the future. But, as always, change never comes without a price.
A mountain, once a towering monument to man's ambition, now sobbed rust and decay. Its skeletal skyscrapers clawed at a sky choked with ash, an endless darkness that reflected the desolation below. Here, where survival was a brutal equation of scavenged scraps and desperate violence, whispers clung to the crumbling ruins like the ever-present dust. Whispers of a legend, a shadow lurking in the deepest, forgotten heart of the mountain: a monster.
They called him the Blood King, a name hissed with fear and reverence. Not just another vampire, but a predator whose power had once threatened to consume all of man-kind. He is said to be so great that no one was a match to his strength, his wrath so terrible, that the ancients themselves, the very inventors of their shadowed presence, had deemed him too dangerous to roam free. They imprisoned him, not in chains of iron, but in a cage of blood. A cage that could only be unlocked by the one whose essence was his destined key, his chosen one. A cruel contradiction, a punishment designed to bind him for eternity.
Unknown to them all that the blood king’s chosen one was a human adventurer, who lived for the thrill and would do anything for a fearful adventure.
"What happens when you meet a tall and handsome elf king who has saved your life but kill your temper?"
~*~*~*~
"I'm more of a man in this house. Why can't you let me be on top?" Sean asked with a pout.
Oswin groaned, rolling his eyes and wondering just how much more innocent Sean could be. "It takes a heavy responsibility to be the top," he replied.
"Responsibility? Then it's perfect. I'm making more money, cooking,..."
"Sean. I'm talking about things like stretching and penetrating," Oswin explained as he ignored the bulge in his pants. "Do you even have experience?”
“Then teach me, your majesty.”
“With pleasure.”
~*~*~*~
It all starts when the elf king, Oswin Alvingham, mysteriously gets stuck in the human realm and loses his powers. As he roams the unfamiliar一dirty and low class if he is to describe Earth, he stumbles into Sean Cooper, a fresh graduate, and a full-time table-waiter, who gets bullied in the alley. Though Oswin's magical power is lost, his physical strength remains invincible. When he rescues Sean, the latter decides to take him in as gratitude. And that is where the mess begins. How can the king of the elf cope with his new life? How can Sean convince himself not to be evil enough to kick his savor out of his house? Most importantly, how do an average mortal and the noble upper-class immortal live together under the same roof and on the same bed?
~*~*~*~*
P.S:
1) This book contains mature and explicit 18+ scenes.
2) It also contains little graphic violence in some chapters, but I'll put a warning on the top of those chapters.
3) The ELF here is inspired by Lord of The Ring Series. Therefore, they are tall, slender and beautiful. Not tiny little beings like in children fairy tales.]
The Forgotten - Book One of the Chronicles of Faynon
Sarah Groot
10
6.9K
The Forgotten.
Massacre and regicide under the orders of an unspeakably evil priesthood decimate the ranks of the honourable Galadon Knights, and destroy the Royal family who the Knights are sworn to protect.
Now outlawed and despised, the Knights are forced, for four generations, 120 years, to hide in secret as they regain their strength for their final confrontation with the religious order. But their biggest secret is that they also hide the last surviving member of the Royal family.
Finally strong enough, the last surviving Royal is brought out of hiding and told of her heritage and true identity. Unfortunately a key part of her heritage, a mysterious and magical amethyst pendant, is lost and without it her legitimacy to the throne can not be proven.
So starts a desperate quest to search for the pendant to prove the claim of Princess Astrid who must be crowned before the first full moon after her 21st birthday.
As more of her heritage is discovered so is passionate romance, bloody battles, betrayal, magic and alliances with the mysterious Elves, Dwarves, Dryads and Mrawlers of the planet.
With her 21st birthday quickly approaching, the amethyst lost and the armies are moving into position for a final confrontation, this is their last chance, and time is running out.
“We’re equals, remember? And you’re the king.”
He pulled her onto his lap, his right hand gripping her thigh. Their faces were so close, Violet could see the flecks of gold lingering in his irises.
“To me, you’re king, Violet Bellerose.”
***
Violet Bellerose lives in a jealous, elven world where everyone from royals to bounty hunters are after her unique ability to amplify magic to incredible heights. When she saves the Storm King from an assassin, Violet earns a post at his side as bodyguard, unaware they have begun to unravel each other’s secrets.
Forgotten lovers, turbulent powers, and a political marriage push and pull at king and bodyguard. Their bond must strengthen to withstand court rivalries and the enemies at their borders. With only each other to lean on, they face the Blood King together and labor through every obstacle to make it to their coronation.
The Elf King and His Bodyguard is created by Hayden Marlowe, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.
Bjorn 'The Fell-Handed' is one of those legendary figures in Warhammer 40k lore that just sticks with you. He's a Space Marine, one of the oldest surviving members of the Space Wolves, and his story is a mix of tragedy and badassery. After the Horus Heresy, Bjorn was so badly wounded that he had to be interred in a Dreadnought sarcophagus—basically a giant robotic war coffin that keeps him alive. But here’s the thing: he doesn’t just fade into obscurity. Bjorn becomes a living relic, revered by his chapter, and only awoken for the most dire battles or to dispense wisdom. It’s kinda heartbreaking when you think about it—he’s this ancient warrior who outlived almost everyone he knew, stuck in a machine, but still fighting for his brothers. The guy even had a chat with Leman Russ, his Primarch, before Russ vanished into the Warp. That’s like meeting your hero and then watching them walk away forever. The way Bjorn’s story is told in the books and codexes makes him feel less like a character and more like a force of nature—a reminder of what the Space Wolves once were and what they’ve lost.
What really gets me is how the Space Wolves treat him. They don’t just see him as a weapon; he’s their history. When he speaks, they listen. When he fights, it’s like watching a myth come to life. There’s a scene in one of the novels where Bjorn gets woken up, and he’s grumpy as hell about it—like an old man annoyed at being dragged out of bed. But then he proceeds to wreck everything in his path. That mix of humor and raw power is so perfectly Warhammer. His fate is bittersweet, but in a universe as grimdark as 40k, Bjorn’s enduring legacy feels like a small victory.
Bjorn: The Fell-Handed's ending is a bittersweet one, typical of Warhammer 40k's grimdark tone. As one of the few surviving Space Wolves from the Horus Heresy, Bjorn's fate is both heroic and tragic. He's interred in a Dreadnought sarcophagus, kept alive by ancient technology, and revered as a living relic. While he continues to fight for his chapter, his existence is a lonely one, trapped between life and death. The 'happy' part is that he remains a symbol of resilience and wisdom, but the cost is steep—eternal warfare and isolation. It’s the kind of ending that leaves you in awe of his endurance but also heartbroken for what he’s lost.
Thinking about Bjorn always makes me reflect on how Warhammer 40k rarely offers neat, joyful resolutions. His story is more about legacy than personal happiness. The fact that he’s still kicking after 10,000 years is impressive, but it’s hard to call it 'happy' when he’s more machine than man, yearning for the days when he could walk among his brothers freely. That said, there’s a strange beauty in his unwavering loyalty, even if it comes at a heavy price.