[caillteridir, bc chesnaughts,] 'HAWR - HAWR!' thunders lady juggernaut, that old knight with fire in her dead eyes and a wild heart. she is loud, bawdy, and clearly amused by his manners. 'yer made o' stell'r stoof, ain't ye, matey? a dook who is nae afraid o' gettin' 'is paws doirty! aye, oi've fooght dreg'ns n' levoiathins an' dev'ls 'at shook the e'rth, but this loife still 'as soorprises fer me yet!' her scar-studded grin widens. 'but, m'dooky, do ye spar as wehl as ye bawrk?'
With her strength being as apparent to Logan as the sun was to all, Logan couldn’t help but feel his heart leap for joy. The way she spoke and the way she marched up to him was not unlike the ones who was kin with-- the very mercenaries that walked the earth. They did not need to exchange names or titles and they had not even the desire to. All that they needed-- all that they hungered for-- was the type of strength that not even a the hardiest of a thousand men could muster on their own.
Knowing full and well that a fight was coming his way, Logan wasted no time in holding aloft his battle axe, Grendel. It was long and at its end was a large plant of steel, its blade sharp enough to slice diamond itself. That axe also had a mighty amount of force packed behind its weight, as shown when Logan let one end plant deep into the stone below as he soon bellowed back.
“I’d say that you’d better get ready for the Grand Duke’uh Gronvall to crack you open!”
“C’mon! I’ve got a WHOOOOOLE LOTTA PRESENTS FOR YA!”
