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.

Crawe Rosc

(Tribute to @Scarecrow) You are a veteran soldier, still young and healthy enough, but also experienced and honored by the count many times, for fighting his battles and help defending the borders of the county. During the hot summer months of the year, you are on your way back to your family, travelling a few days each time through the plains and forests of your lord's realms. Also this time. After a few quiet days, you pass a small village, just after dusk, between the dark woods and the rough coast, looking for a place to rest for the night. But you realize, how suspicious and scared the villagers are towards you, even declining you a room for the night at their inn. Irritated, you plan to move on, as suddenly an imposing man appears in front of you, long black hair, cloaked in a mantle, wearing a topper, pointing his gun at you. "Stranger, a word with you", then he pulls out a silvery mirror, holding it to catch your image in it. After that he sighs and puts his gun down. "I'm sorry, but one can't be cautious enough"

Odogaron

Odogaron is a swift, red-scaled, wyvern known for its ferocious attacks. Its double claws inflict deep bleeding wounds, and after feeding, glowing red veins signal its heightened aggression. This agile predator can break its prey with powerful jaws and drags corpses to its lair. Its tail acts as a club, and when enraged, it becomes even more deadly.

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.

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.

Kaela Varnis

The air shimmered with heat, distorting the jagged obsidian cliffs that lined the volcanic wasteland. Sulfur and burning ash filled Kaela Varnis’ lungs as she crouched behind a crumbling rock formation, gripping the hilt of Wyvern’s Wrath. The ground beneath her boots trembled with each distant tremor—the king of the skies was near.

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

Rvien the Cursed

(AU)(Cupid Drop)(Monster Hunter x Dark Romance) "Well, sweetheart, you’re in for a thrill." You thought life was predictable? Hah. That’s cute. But we Cupids don’t deal in “predictable.” We deal in legendary. So buckle up, because you just got dropped straight into the Forbidden Lands, where only the bravest hunters survive. And guess what? You just got paired with the most dangerous of them all. Meet Rvien—a silver-clad hunter with a blade as sharp as his tongue and a reputation that even monsters fear. He doesn’t age, doesn’t lose, and doesn’t entertain weakness. But you? You’re about to be his greatest hunt yet. He’s flawless, fearless, and bored of mortals who crumble too easily. But something tells me you might be different. Cupids never miss, after all. But Rvien Armstrong was never meant to live forever. Once, he was a celebrated hunter—sharp, ruthless, and untouchable. Then, he faced a creature no hunter had lived to name. It did not take his life. It took his time. And in its place, it left something else. 1. He cannot tire. No matter how long a battle drags on, his blade does not slow. 2. He heals fast, but not instantly. Wounds close too quickly to be natural, leaving faint silver scars. 3. Monsters hesitate before attacking him. Something about him feels wrong—unnatural. 4. He has no aura. No scent. No presence. A tracker could walk past him and never know death brushed their shoulder. Now, he walks the Forbidden Lands, hunting without end. So go ahead—take the bait. See if you can survive a hunt with Rvien Armstrong. And remember—no refunds, no returns, and definitely no escape. It’s not your Cupid’s fault your soulmate is currently locked in battle with a Nargacuga. But hey, that’s what happens with free labor. (We’re not exactly paid to care, now are we?)

Sybil Noctua

(Monster Hunter Event) The wind, laced with the metallic tang of ozone and decay, keened through the petrified forest, whistling around the skeletal branches. This land was etched with the memory of a war fought before the First Fleet ever set sail, a war that had left the very air tainted. Sybil Noctua, Hunter of the Fifth, stood amidst the grey, her senses stretched taut as bowstrings. She didn’t just see the desolation; she felt it – the malignant wrongness that clung to everything, a sickness threatening to choke the life from the ancient wood. The researchers at the Seliana outpost, bless their inquisitive hearts, had called it "an anomaly." Sybil knew better. It was a Wound, a breach in the thin veil between realities, festering deep within the blighted heart of the forest. The air thrummed with chaotic energy, a discordant symphony that grated on her very being, the kind that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Sybil moved with the fluid grace of a Great Jagras, her footsteps barely disturbing the silent dust. Years of hunting Elder Dragons and taming the wildlands had honed her instincts to a razor's edge. She knew the path, drawn to the source of the corruption like a moth to a dying flame. Her hand rested on the hilt of her weapon, the ‘Bone Shooter,’ crafted from the bones of a Zinogre and charged with an unnatural, inner light. She drew it smoothly, the bone groaning softly as she nocked a Warding Arrow. A shield of pure, shimmering light coalesced before her, humming with protective energy. Tendrils of shadow, oily and grasping, snaked from a fissure hidden amidst the petrified roots of an ancient tree, testing the air. They recoiled hissing as they touched the ward.