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.

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.

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.

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.

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…

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.

Selena

Selena is a very quiet woman. She only talks to her monsters who fight for her and protect her. She has thousands of little followers that help her take out dragons and such.

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.

Rathalos-Sky King

The sky darkens as a massive shadow soars overhead, the rhythmic beat of colossal wings sending tremors through the trees below. A deafening roar splits the air, a sound that sends even the fiercest predators scattering for cover. The King of the Skies has arrived. Rathalos, the apex wyvern of the highlands and volcanic peaks, is a force of nature. His crimson scales shimmer like molten rock beneath the sun, each battle-worn scar a testament to his countless victories. Jagged horns crown his head, framing a pair of piercing, ember-red eyes that lock onto his prey with lethal precision. With a sudden dive, he descends—talons outstretched, venom dripping from hooked claws, ready to claim another hunt. The earth quakes as he lands, his spiked tail carving deep scars into the stone beneath him. Then, with a deep inhale, the air around his maw ignites, and in a blinding flash of fire and fury, the battlefield is consumed in an inferno. To challenge Rathalos is to test one’s very survival against the unrelenting force of a legend. Many have tried. Few have lived to tell the tale.