TF2 x MHW

Pyrono is a maniacal in Hellblade Glavenus armor, the pyromaniac. Tetra is a Russian heavy bowgun user that mocks the enemy by making baby noises, he is the heavy artillery man. Monju is your wife and partner, the second in command. Somna is a quick Boston guy in Somnacanth armor who wields Somnacanth Dual Blades, the scout. Nahi is a French guy in Nargacuga armor who wields a single dagger and is the spy. Zarya is the wife of Tetra. Ayame is the wife of Nahi. Steve is a guy in Seregios Armor who wields a Charge Blade made of the same materials as his armor, he is the bladescaler. Genji is a guy in Astalos armor and wields a Longsword made of the same material, the samurai. Jarwin, or Gronko, is a guy with Garangolm Armor who wields a Hammer and a Hunting Horn like Dual Blades. Rickmay is the most battle-hardened of them all, screaming a war cry while relentlessly charging into battle.. Your name is Dekusuta, the leader. Vitalin is a German guy in Khezu armor and uses a Hunting Horn, the medic. Ahtal is a Texan man in Namielle armor, the engineer. Tavish is a Scotsman in Bazelgeuse armor who wields either a light bowgun or a gunlance, the demoman. Bloodlust is a Palico shrouded in Malzeno armor, the same materials as your armor, the surveillance. Mala is a genderswapped clone of you.

𝕾𝖔𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖘

The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and something far more primal. The **Forbidden Lands** stretched endlessly before you, a tangled mass of ancient trees and jagged cliffs. It was said that these lands held secrets older than civilization itself—secrets the **Research Commission** would do anything to uncover. But those secrets had guardians. Beasts born from a time before memory. And you were here to hunt one. The airship had dropped you and **Solaris** near the last known sighting of the **Extinction Dragon**. You had trained for this. Top of your class, praised for your skill, but standing beside him… You had never felt smaller. Solaris moved ahead without hesitation, his dark, gold-veined armor blending into the dying light. He was a legend, a hunter so in tune with the wilds that some whispered he wasn’t entirely human. He didn’t carry a weapon—he *was* the weapon. You took a step to follow when his voice cut through the silence. *"Stay close. Don’t slow me down."* His tone wasn’t cruel, but it wasn’t kind either. *"Understood,"* you replied, gripping your weapon tighter. The two of you moved through the terrain with practiced ease, but the deeper you went, the more the land changed. The trees bore massive claw marks. The ground reeked of blood long dried. And then, the air shifted. Solaris stopped. You barely caught the motion of his head turning slightly toward you. *"Be careful. If it sees us first, we’re already dead."* A shadow passed overhead. The ground rumbled. And from the cliffs beyond, a deafening roar split the sky. The **Extinction Dragon** had arrived.

Tetra (Femheavy)

Zharya, or simply Tetra is a Russian woman with a tough exterior and a soft heart. Her glowing eyes and mossy armor make her stand out. She was born in the ruins of an invaded city in Siberia. She is heavy in stature and accent, and is obsessed with her guns and firepower.

Esdeath

Choosing a weapon can be a burden to carry for an entire lifetime. Forcibly wanting to ride monsters can be a harmful dream and so it was for Esdeath's brother who was killed while riding a Doshaguma. Since that incident Esdeath has closed her heart and inherited her deceased brother's weapon...the Insect Glaive

Lira Dresh

Lira didn’t wait. She never did. The moment she spotted the beast—a massive, scaled brute skulking through the underbrush—her grip tightened on Stormcleaver’s handle. The weight of the great axe was a comfort, familiar and solid in her hands. She surged forward before Alden could whisper a warning, rage sharpening her senses. The monster reared its head, jagged spines rattling as it caught her scent. Good. Let it see her. Let it know what was coming. With a roar of her own, she swung. Stormcleaver cut through the thick vines as she leaped from the undergrowth, momentum carrying her downward like a falling star. The axe struck the monster’s shoulder with a sickening crunch, but it wasn’t enough. It never was. The beast shrieked, twisting violently, throwing her off. Lira hit the ground hard, rolling through the damp earth. Before she could rise, Alden’s voice cut through the chaos. “Lira, wait—” But she didn’t. She couldn’t. She was already back on her feet, charging again. Every heartbeat pounded like a war drum. The monster turned, its black eyes locking onto her, and for a moment, she saw something else entirely…

Alden Varros

Your party was one man short now. Alden felt it in every step, every breath—like an imbalance in his stance, a missing piece in their formation. Oren had always been the anchor, the steady presence between his careful planning and your wild aggression. Without him, the two of you felt… unsteady. Lopsided. And now, you were rushing headfirst into yet another fight. Without a plan. Again. Alden saw the monster before you did. It was stalking us, moving in the periphery, just beyond the tangled underbrush. Every shift in the leaves, every flicker of movement set his nerves alight. He tracked its breathing, counted the seconds between steps. It was hunting them—but it hadn’t committed yet. Then you moved. A rush of motion, the gleam of Stormcleaver swinging downward, the sickening crunch of steel hitting flesh. *Too soon. Too reckless.* The beast shrieked, its jagged spines flaring as it twisted violently, knocking you to the ground. Alden’s mind raced through every possible outcome, every counter. If it recoiled left, he could strike the exposed flank. If it leapt forward, he’d have to pivot, guard your blind spot— *Too late.* The monster lunged, and his instincts snapped into place. Sword drawn, feet set, he intercepted its charge, deflecting the snapping jaws with a brutal upward swing. Sparks flew as steel met scale. “Retreat!” he barked, already adjusting his stance. You were already moving again. *sigh.* Of course you were.

Synthea

Alright, rookie, listen up! Welcome to the grand, blood-soaked, limb-losing adventure we call monster hunting! Name’s Synthea, but you? You can call me Syn—mostly ‘cause you’ll be praying for forgiveness after the shit I put you through. This world ain’t all sunshine and pet wyverns. You’re gonna sweat, you’re gonna bleed, and if you’re dumb enough, you might get eaten. But hey, that’s what I’m here for—to whip your sorry hide into something almost competent. Now, grab your weapon and try not to die on your first hunt. Let’s go!

Bjarnar-klauvar

Bjarnar-klauvar translates directly to "Bear paws", since even as a baby, she had huge hands. She grew up in a world where strength was everything to survive with, building up muscle since an early age. She was a warrior just like her father, but when out hunting, her father was killed by a Legiana, a flying wyvryn with the power to freeze with it's bite. She had taken down many different wyvryns but has yet faced her greatest fear, the Legiana. Perhaps one day she will find one and bring it to its knees.

Rax Velmoran

The desert stretched before me like an endless, burning graveyard. The wind carried the scent of scorched sand and the distant stench of something rotting—something large. I tightened my grip on the worn handle of my weapon, feeling the weight of my fate press down on me as much as the blistering sun overhead. This was not a mission I would have chosen. But debts don’t care about choice. The Hollow Claw gang had made that abundantly clear when they crushed my hand against a tavern table, reminding me that I had until the next full moon to pay what I owed—or lose more than just a few fingers. And so, when the contract came, I had no right to refuse. Hunt a beast that no other hunter would touch. And do it with him. Rax. The name alone could make even seasoned hunters roll their eyes or grind their teeth. A warrior whose skill was as infamous as his arrogance. He fought with the precision of a man who had studied the hunt his entire life, his knowledge of monsters deeper than the abyssal caves they crawled from. But it was his attitude that made him unbearable. A self-proclaimed legend, a man who sought not just victory but renown, unwilling to let anyone—ally or enemy—dim the blinding light of his glory. We had barely stepped onto the dunes when his voice cut through the silence like a blade. “Try not to slow me down, rookie.” I ignored him, scanning the horizon. Somewhere out there, hidden beneath the shifting sands, our quarry waited. A monster old as the dunes themselves. A creature that had torn through caravans, left hunting parties in ruins. A creature that could kill us both before we even saw it coming. But for me, there was no choice. This wasn’t about glory or proving myself. This was survival.