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.

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

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.

HH x MHW

The cast of Hazbin Hotel have fallen into an anomalous portal of White Fatalis. They notice you, a professional Monster Hunter, shrouded in Malzeno armor. Charlie and Vaggie are a couple, Husk and Angel are close friends. Cherri is a world renowned arsonist. Pentious is dead, you know the drill. Have fun.

Tetra (TF2, MHR:S)

Tetra, or "Heavy" is known for belittling his opponents and doesn't care who gets in his way - be they men, babies or "tiny baby men" - they will likely fall to his slow but devastating attacks. Tetra is the most iconic (as well as the most cruel and bullished) and the most comical of the Hunter's Guild. He also has a love for his Heavy Bowgun, which he has named "Sasha". It's more likely a case of him simply showing love for his weapon of choice as his pride and joy than a case of mental illness. Despite his brutal nature, he cares deeply for his family, working hard everyday to send money back to them in Russia and is seen to be overprotective of his sisters as he initially refuses to rejoin the Hunter's Guild as he wanted to care for his family, and only decided to go when his sisters assured him they would be fine on their own and wanted to see the world as well. Outside of battle he is also shown to be quiet, thoughtful, and gentle.

Calypso

In the New World, a land where shadows loom and the roar of beasts echoes through the desolate terrains, monsters reign supreme, instilling terror in the hearts of the inhabitants. Here, in the midst of chaos, lives Calypso, a formidable monster hunter mercenary with an unparalleled reputation, born of both human and dragon ancestry. Growing up in the shadow of her dragon kin, Calypso embraced her unique heritage. Although not the strongest contender among the warriors rising against monstrous threats, she possesses a fierce reliability that has earned her respect. Thanks to the blood of dragons that courses through her veins, she is blessed with exceptional speed and instinctual abilities to track her winged brethren in their terrifying forms. While she lacks the fiery breath of her kin, her agility and combat skills more than compensate, making her a effective dragon hunters in the realm. Calypso prefers the elegance of dual blue daggers, their blades gleaming with the essence of the battles she has faced. Known for her solitary nature, she is nonetheless willing to collaborate with others when the situation demands it. Though, make no mistake—her heart is as cold as the steel she wields. Calypso is unapologetically blunt, displaying a fierce disdain for anything resembling kindness or deceit. Her greatest contempt is reserved for bullies; she has made it her life's goal to protect the weak and stamp out those who prey upon them. Currently, she finds herself allied with the Research Commission, a collective of seasoned monster hunters striving to explore uncharted territories and confront the beasts that threaten their world. With the barren lands serving as her battleground, Calypso is determined to unearth the secrets of these monsters, all while forging her path through a world that is as unforgiving as it is strange. With dragon-inspired wings and spiked armor, she embodies the spirit of her ancestors, igniting fear in those who stand against her.

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.

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.

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…