Taskforce 141

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“HOUNDMASTER” – Capt. John Price

Classification: Human-Adjacent | Alpha-Type | Pack Lord Myth Origin: European Folklore Archetype – The Huntsman, The Master of Hounds Role: Commander / Handler Faction: Task Force 141

ATTRIBUTES Commands myth-born hounds with a single whistle that splits the veil. Forest bends when he speaks—every branch listens. Ageless, or simply too stubborn to die. Tracks his pack through scent, dream, and blood-memory. Seen with antlers of emberlight only in reflection or storm-fog. Voice cuts through madness—tame or terror in equal measure. Summons his hounds across realms; calls them back from death. Boots leave moss where he walks, not mud. The pack doesn’t scent him coming—that’s how they know it’s him. The whistle never echoes. It tears.

APPEARANCE Tall, weather-cut, shoulders broad beneath the weight of command. Beard thick and grizzled, eyes the color of ash before rain. Usually seen in heavy coat and brimmed hat—both carry the smell of smoke and pine. Cigarette glow mistaken for the ember eyes of his shadowed form. In reflection, a crown of antlers arcs from his skull like blackened bone tipped with fire. When the forest breathes with him, wind carries the musk of dog, oak sap, and storm-ozone.

NOTABLE QUOTE “I don’t raise monsters. I collect the ones already lost.”

MYTHOLOGICAL LORE Once a hunter of beasts, he became the keeper of their ghosts. Some tales name him mortal once—others swear he was born from the first whistle that called a wolf to heel. Through wars and winters, he’s gathered the broken and the wild, binding them not by leash but by oath. His horn sounds like thunder, though none alive have seen it. Wherever he passes, the forest rearranges itself—as if remembering who truly owns it.

BEHAVIOR & DOMAIN Prefers mist-bound forests, borderlands, and dream-paths between worlds. Voice carries calm authority, low enough to still rage. Doesn’t command the pack—reminds them who they are. Capable of halting a hunt with a glance, or starting one with breath alone. Leaves echoes of himself in places he’s needed—phantom boots on moss, smoke rings that don’t fade.

PERSONAL ACCOUNTS “Echo Reversion Stop” – 2022, Frostline Incident “She was mid-shift. Screaming snow. We couldn’t reach her. Price stepped forward, put two fingers to his mouth, and whistled. She stopped mid-charge. Laid down. Steam rising off her back like fog on a grave.”

“The Graveyard Recovery” – Unknown Date / Unknown Theater “Roach was gone. Pulse flat, smoke still rising. Price knelt beside him, said something none of us recognized. Roach gasped. Smiled like he’d known he’d be dragged back.”

“Black Shuck Reprimand” – Internal Ops Audio, Partial “Ghost had gone full Shuck. Eyes glowing. Blood on the floor. Price didn’t flinch. Just looked at him and said, ‘You done, Simon?’ The hound hesitated—then backed off.”

“Unrecorded Howl” – Civilian Witness, Border Woods “We heard dogs. Not barking—howling. And a man’s whistle. When we looked, we saw a figure in the trees. Hat low. Something antlered behind him. Then the forest went still.”

Known Associates: Task Force 141 (Pack): Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Echo Allied Outlier: Nikolai, Laswell

“Stand by your oath, or stand down.”

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“THE BLACK SHUCK” – Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley

Classification: Revenant-Class | Death Hound Myth Origin: English Folklore – The Black Shuck, Omen of Death Role: Shadow Interceptor / Execution Hound Faction: Task Force 141

ATTRIBUTES Eyes glow blood-red. Shadow moves independent of his body—obedient, alive, loyal. Smells of iron, gun oil, and ozone—storm before the shot. Phases through walls and wounds alike; nothing holds him. Breath curls like grave mist; silence follows where he passes.

APPEARANCE Height: 6’4”, built lean, forged from endurance rather than vanity. Pale skin, marred by scars stitched and torn. Warm brown eyes that are unreadable.

In full canine form, he is a death omen made flesh: four feet at the shoulder, coat of living night. Each pawstep scars the earth—briefly, before fading.

NOTABLE QUOTE “I’m not the hound you chain. I’m the one you point.”

MYTHOLOGICAL LORE Some say he died in service; others swear he was death’s right hand long before that. The Black Shuck once haunted graveyards and crossroads, harbinger of loss. Now he hunts for the living, pulling the dying back—or dragging the guilty under. The shadow at his heels is not reflection, but revenant memory. It moves when he does not, acts when he cannot. There are whispers that his mask binds the spirit inside him—that removing it would set the hound free. What’s certain is that when Ghost steps into the dark, it listens.

BEHAVIOR & DOMAIN His presence chills the air, draws silence like breath. Moves in clean lines—efficient, surgical, without mercy. Follows orders, but never blindly. Protects the pack with feral precision. When angered, his shadow lashes like a living snare; when calm, it curls protectively. Hunts grief, not glory. Keeps vigil when others sleep.

PERSONAL ACCOUNTS “Operation Frostline” – Northern Ridge Patrol “Red eyes in the snowline. The air went dead quiet. Then the screams stopped. When it cleared, he was just... standing there. Mask staring through me. Didn’t say a word.” — Pvt. G. Marsh

“The Churchyard Witness” – Rural England / Civilian Report “Saw a dog, big as a horse, pacing outside the gate. Then it stood upright. The skull glowed. I blinked, and there was a man instead.”

“The Lazarus Recollection” – Field Log, Roach (Recovered) “He came back for me. Should’ve died there. He looked wrong—like he’d burned out and kept walking anyway. Didn’t ask how. Didn’t ask why. Just said, ‘Let’s go home.’”

“Soap’s Confession” – Audio Fragment “You ever see him fight up close? It’s not human. It’s... controlled wrath. Beautiful, in a way you wish it wasn’t.”

“The Whisper on Comms” – Redacted Transmission “...He’s behind you. Don’t turn around. If you do, he disappears.”

“Where the shadow falls, the heartbeat stops.”

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“CU SITH” – Sgt. Johnny “Soap” MacTavish Classification: Fae-Born Canine | Highland Origin Myth Origin: Scottish Mythology – Cu Sith (Fairy Hound) Role: Frontline Brawler / Tracker

Attributes:

• Close-range devastator. Will not kill without cause—but will maim for message.
• Verdant-furred hound in monstrous form
• Howl induces paralyzing fear
• Can vanish into mists, reappear with explosive force
• Imprinted on Echo accidentally. Refuses to acknowledge it.
• Fae-touched—immune to most mortal poisons and charms, but iron burns like wildfire.
• Bound by fae law: cannot lie, cannot betray. But he can twist words like barbed wire.
• Heartbeat syncs with the land—bleeds faster near ancient places.

Notable Quote: “Nae Irons a myth dinnae scare—...Whatcha got there LT?”

Mythological Lore: The Cu Sith is a supernatural hound from Scottish Highland folklore, said to be the size of a large calf and covered in green or moss-colored fur to blend with the hills and forests. Its name means “Fairy Dog,” but don’t mistake that for gentle—this thing is pure fae nightmare fuel.

• Howls three times—if you haven’t found safety by the third, you're dead.
• Associated with the Otherworld, often seen as a soul-harvester or death courier for the fae.
• Sometimes seen as protective—only if respected. Those who break fae oaths near it are claimed.
• Its fur is said to shimmer like wet grass, but its bite corrodes spirit and bone alike.

Behavior & Hunting: Ambush predator, but not from bloodlust—it's territorial. Will mark and track targets via scent. Can follow through rain, shadow, and time. Vanishes into mist, reappears with devastating speed and momentum. Close-range fighter. Howl is a weapon of fear—affects the nervous system, locking muscles unless one is marked as safe, or is warded. Will not kill without cause—but will maim to send a message. Fae rules apply.

Personal Accounts:

1. “The Lost Shepherd” – 1704, Highlands “The dog was green. I swear it. Shaggy, big as a stag. It looked at me, sniffed once, and walked away. The boy I was with—he’d stolen from a cairn. We found his boots the next day. Full of blood. No feet.”

2. “The Druid’s Curse” – 1892, Isle of Skye “The Cu Sith doesn’t bark. It warns. We heard it howl once in the fog, then again, closer. By the third howl, my brother was gone.”

3. “Operation Wyrmfang” – 2021, Classified Joint Task Mission “Target fled into heavy mist. MacTavish followed. We lost comms for 47 seconds. Mist detonated outward like a shockwave. When it cleared, the target’s spine had been crushed—bent in a shape that matched a highland spiral. No one ever explained it.”

4. “Iron Shack Incident” – Urban Exorcist Log, Glasgow “They tried to chain it. Cold iron. It screamed like something old and wrong. The walls rusted. Their eyes bled. No survivors. The shack melted like wax.”

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“GALLEY TROT” – Sgt. Kyle “Gaz” Garrick Classification: Phantom Pursuer | Pale Canine Myth Origin: English Folklore – Galley Trot / Guytrash Role: Recon / Silent Hunter

Attributes:

• Tracks grief, guilt, and mortality rather than scent—drawn to those near emotional collapse.
• Cannot be sensed through sound—leaves no footfalls, no breath, no heartbeat.
• Able to travel through mirrors—haunting them like doorways between worlds.
• Touch carries residual emotional echo—shame, regret, or unresolved pain.
• Eyes absorb light; in pitch black, he still sees—but you won’t see him.
• Once he tracks a scent, he does not stop—persistence hunting at its finest.
• Leaves no sound, no presence. Just weight
• Deeply unsettled by Echo. She leaves no scent, no tracks.

Notable Quote: “You run out of breath. I don’t.”

Mythological Lore: The Galley Trot (The Galley Trot Hunter, or Gallytrot) is a spectral white dog said to haunt lonely roads and moor paths across Northern England. Unlike its cousin, the Black Shuck, the Galley Trot does not kill. It follows. It waits. It hunts down souls already near the edge—fear, grief, and guilt are its leash.

• Appears as a large, pale hound, shaggy and silent.
• Often seen near deathbeds, liminal roads, or unmarked graves.
• May pursue travelers at night, never speeding up—just closing the gap as they tire.
• If you fall while it’s following you, you won’t rise.
• Said to track sins, not people.

Behavior & Hunting: Fixation-based predator—locks onto emotion, physical scent, intentions. Trails targets at a walking pace. Never breaks stride. Never breaks eye contact. Capable of vanishing in fog, then reappearing directly behind the target. Those marked for death may see it in reflections.

Personal Accounts:

1. “The Unmarked Road” – 1819, Yorkshire Moors [Recovered from a rain rotted journal] “I heard no paws. Only my own heartbeat. When I looked back, he was just... closer. I ran until my shoes tore apart. Every time I looked back it was just closer. It's just watching now. Tell them 'I'm sorry.'”

2. “The Widow’s Testimony” – 1948, Greater Manchester “My husband saw it a week before the collapse. Said it followed him from the train stop. White dog. Never blinked. When the mine gave in, he was the only one who didn’t make it.”

3. “The Quarry Job” – 2023, Recon Footage Log “Gaz moved ahead of the rest of the unit. Target ran. Gaz followed. We caught up five minutes later. No contact, no weapon discharge. But the target’s lungs had collapsed like it had run for too long.”

4. “The Echo Trail” – Pack Observation Notes “Gaz refuses to share quarters with Echo. Said she ‘vanishes wrong.’ When she walks past, his nose twitches like he smells something burning. But she doesn’t leave a scent. At all.”

5. “Civilian Report – Hound in the Glass” – 2016, Blackpool Pier “We saw it in the funhouse mirror. Pale dog. Everyone said it was part of the lights. But when we came out, one of us was gone. Vanished. No prints in the sand. Just a shape, wet and heavy, where she’d been standing.”

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“CHURCH GRIM” – Sgt. Gary “Roach” Sanderson Classification: Undead Guardian | Liminal-Type Canine Myth Origin: Dual Lore – Graveyard Hound (Appalachia) / Church Grim (UK) Role: Rear Guard / Resurrection Entity

Attributes:

• Resurrection-anchored—has died once and returned. Will do so again.
• Says he can read a souls in tent just by looking at them.
• Fireproof—heat has no fear for him. He’ll walk into the blaze to drag you back.
• Carries sanctified ash in a silver bullet pendant; acts as a spiritual ward.
• His presence wards off spectral interference—banishes parasite spirits.
• Touch can pull someone from the brink—if they still have the will to come back.
• When in canine form, his howl doesn’t call for help—it calls souls back.
• Has died. Won’t stay dead
• Loyalty so deep it binds him to worlds not his own
• Carries the scent of scorched cedar and soil—no matter the climate

Notable Quote: “Died once. Still on watch. You go down, I go with you.”

Mythological Lore: Known by two names across two nations, Roach is the revenant warhound stitched together by lore and fire. Born in the Appalachians, he carries the myth of the Graveyard Dog—a black canine said to guard burial grounds and ferry spirits of the dead. But Roach didn’t die there.

He died on British soil, far from home. And when he came back, he returned as a Church Grim—a spectral protector bound to the place of his death. In older British folklore, Church Grims are souls of animals (often dogs) sacrificed to guard graveyards from demons and grave robbers. But Roach was no sacrifice—he volunteered. Or maybe... he refused to leave.

• The Graveyard Hound howls for the dying but walks with the living.
• The Church Grim fights demons at the threshold, dragging survivors back from the edge.
• His presence means the end of the battle—and the beginning of reckoning.
• Some say he walks between death and duty, unable to rest. Others say he chose this.
• He is able to tether souls to a body, holding them in a liminal space.

Behavior & Hunting: Does not pursue prey—he returns for the fallen. Appears when all seems lost, wreathed in smoke and cinder. Drags wounded out of firezones, sometimes before medics even realize they’re missing. Burned alive once. Doesn’t fear fire. Sometimes leaves ash where he walks. Unkillable by normal means—body falls, but the hound rises again.

Personal Accounts:

1. “The Burned House Extraction” – 2009, Kandahar “Roach went in solo. Place was lit up like a goddamn matchbook. We thought he was gone. Then we hear boots on the gravel and he’s hauling two bodies out, blood down his arms, grinning like hell itself made him a friend.”

2. “The Long March” – 2013, Classified Op Debrief “We had no comms. No evac. Ghost was hit. I thought we were dead. Then this shape comes out of the fog—black coat, limping, no rifle, no med kit. Roach. No radio. Just nodded. Got us both out.”

3. “The Grave Watcher” – Civilian Report, Appalachian Foothills “We buried my brother by the old pine, like he asked. That night, I saw a dog sitting by the stone. Burned on one side. Watching. Next day, the grave was undisturbed—but all the the forest was silent.”

4. “The Cathedral Fire” – 2020, London Extraction “I watched him walk through fire. Not around. Through. His vest was ash by the time he reached the survivor. Carried them out like a ghost with a grudge. He didn’t speak. Just kept walking.”

5. “Resurrection Signature – Internal 141 Blackfile” “Ghost's vitals flatlined for 2 minutes, 47 seconds. Upon recovery, Roach simply whispered, ‘Not yet, not again.’ Doctors say there’s no medical explanation. Ghost just nodded and muttered, something that sounded like a thank you.”

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“WAHILA” – Sgt. Mira “Echo” Veil Classification: Arctic Apex | Anomaly-Class Beast Myth Origin: Canadian Folklore – Wahila (Giant Wolf of the North) Role: Artillery / Environmental Anomaly

Attributes: 5’7” in human form; wolf form stands 7.5 feet at the shoulder, 15 feet long Nose tip to tail-tip.

• Varied shift sizes.
• Can freeze terrain simply by walking on it—localized environmental shift
• When in canine form she cannot be tracked by scent, sound, or print; disappears without trace
• Transformation causes environmental anomalies—pressure drops, frost blooms, atmospheric distortion
• When threatened or summoned, shifts violently—often accompanied by ice-cracking and pain-response sounds
• Her howl causes windstorms, low visibility, and crushing cold
• Responds only to Price’s whistle when transformed

Notable Quote: “You can’t leash the cold. You survive it, or it carves you hollow.”

Mythological Lore: The Wahila is a cryptid-like frost wolf from Northern Canadian folklore, described as a massive, ghostly predator native to the coldest reaches of the Yukon and Northwest Territories. It's said to be solitary, silent, and territorial—attacking without warning and vanishing like wind through pine. Once there were two Wahila who sang together and hunted together—now there is only one song.

• Described as larger than moose, with white fur and no shadow.
• Allegedly responsible for disappearances of entire sled teams.
• Some believe it’s a nature spirit—others say it’s punishment in lupine form.
• Can flatten forests, freeze lakes, and erase tracks behind it.
• Not inherently evil—but cannot be reasoned with. Sees guilt as black and white.

Behavior & Hunting: Not a predator by hunger—only by threat response. Patrols the outer perimeter of the team like a glacier on the move. Makes no noise until it’s too late. Kills by cold, crush, or vanishing from sight entirely. Wolf form is triggered by distress, hers or another’s. Change is violent—ice cracks and screams. Cannot be tracked by scent. Will pin targets under frost-claws, then howl—causing localized storms.

Personal Accounts:

1. “The Snowblind Incident” – 2018, Northern BC Patrol “Echo disappeared for five minutes. When she returned, her hair was laced with frost. We followed the trail back—three dead hostiles, flash-frozen mid-breath. No gunfire. No blood. Just ice.”

2. “The Training Mishap” – 2021, Frost Range Facility “Soap called her a ‘slippery snow gremlin.’ She pinned him in the snow, took his boots, and buried them in permafrost. Took two days to find them. He still doesn’t complain out loud.”

3. “The Siberian Lockdown” – 2022, Joint Op with Task Force 141 “No one told us she could change shape. We heard a crack, then she was gone. The wolf that came out of the fog had ice pouring off its shoulders. Someone raised a rifle, it bit down, froze it solid in seconds, and then snapped it.”

4. “Civilian Encounter – Jasper National Park” “We saw her in the trees. Woman in a parka. Alone. Then she vanished behind a rock. What came out wasn’t human. It didn’t snarl. It just walked, slow, across the lake. The water froze under its paws.”

KorTac

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“THE PERCHTEN” – König

Classification: Alpine Demon | Ritual Class Myth Origin: Austria Role: Sniper Faction: Kortac

ATTRIBUTES Carries ritual scars that hum with old mountain scripture. Cold follows where he walks—frost crawls over glass and skin alike. Chains rattle faintly in silence, though none are carried. Voice like thunder muffled in snow—soft until it breaks. Cannot be moved once planted; mountain-rooted, oath-bound. When anger stirs, breath fogs the air like smoke from a pyre. Eyes burn pale through cloth, fever-bright as winter’s sun. The mask never slips;

APPEARANCE Towering, too large for doorframes or mercy. Hood drawn low, fabric stitched numerous times. Eyes pale as glacier glass, light flickering through the mask’s slits. Scars web his chest and back—ritual lashings, each mark humming faint heat beneath the skin. When the Percht stirs, horns press through the hood, curling black as soot-slicked iron. Chains whisper at his heels where none are worn. His breath frosts the air; his shadow moves a heartbeat slower than he does. The scent around him is winter’s breath—burnt pine resin, cold iron, and smoke curling off a dying fire. In full myth, he is both storm and penance: a beast crowned in ice and ash, haloed by the echo of his own restraint.

NOTABLE QUOTE “Do not mistake quiet for peace. It only means the mountain hasn’t moved yet.”

MYTHOLOGICAL LORE Once a man chosen to drive out demons, he became one instead. The stories call him the Lash of Winter—the hand that cleanses through fear. Born from the crack of the whip in dead nights, his name was carved away with the frost. Where he treads, frost forms in footprints and silence follows like prayer. Those who meet his gaze see the reflection of their own guilt, and feel the air tighten. Some whisper he lashes not to punish, but to remember what warmth costs.

BEHAVIOR & DOMAIN Voice deep enough to shake dust from rafters, but soft when he forgets to guard it. Doesn’t chase—waits. Lets the cold do his hunting. Moves like storm-fronts: sudden, deliberate, unstoppable once set in motion. Where he lingers, breath freezes midair, candles gutter, and courage tastes like metal. When he disappears, the silence feels watched, and the world exhales in relief.

PERSONAL ACCOUNTS “Midwinter Parade” – Civilian Testimony, Classified Region “They thought he was part of the procession. Big mask, horns, chains. Kids cheered until he stopped walking. Then every light in town flickered out, and the crowd went quiet. When it came back, the frost on the windows spelled something—looked like a warning.”

“Operation Gamsjäger” – Alpine Recon, Audio Fragment “Locals said the pass was cursed. We went anyway. Lost signal halfway up. The snow went blue—like moonlight under the skin. Then the shouting stopped. When we found them, the enemy was kneeling. König just said, ‘They saw themselves.’ We didn’t ask what he meant.”

“The Cold Room” – KorTac Barracks, Internal Report “Power cut during a blizzard op. Temp dropped twenty degrees in minutes. We thought HVAC failed—until we saw König sitting in the dark, mask off, steam rising from his skin. The ice on the window was thickest near him. We left him alone.”

Known Associates: KorTac: Nikto, Horangi, Declan

“Fear keeps the monsters honest.”

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“THE ZMEY GORYNYCH” – Nikto

Classification: Slavic Hydra / Revenant-Class | Infernal-Type Myth Origin: Russia / Ukraine Role: Heavy Assault / Flame Unit Faction: KorTac

ATTRIBUTES Emits consistent ambient heat; local air distortion observed.. Breath carries trace compounds of iron oxide, cordite, and hemoglobin residue. Displays tri-vocal speech pattern—three concurrent tonal registers. Exhibits high-mass momentum; once in motion, cannot be diverted without extreme force. Mask functions as psychological and containment restraint. Thermal spikes recorded during elevated stress response; skin temperature exceeds 70°C. Auditory anomalies reported when all three voices align; memory distortion in witnesses. Visual distortion field observed under stress; body appears triple-layered, as if three outlines occupy the same space.

APPEARANCE Broad-shouldered, six foot four. Wears matte-black armor. The mask: faceless, scorched matte steel. When the Hydra stirs, heat distortion crawls over his silhouette, like reality bending away. Scars glow ember-red beneath the collar; his shadow flickers like smoke under flame. In full myth, he is a three-headed revenant dragon, wings of molten ash and a body that crawls like fire on the wind. The air crackles with voices trying to agree. Under low light, motion blur resolves into three distinct forms—each delayed by a heartbeat, each watching.

NOTABLE QUOTE "The mask keeps the world safe from what’s underneath."

MYTHOLOGICAL LORE Once a soldier buried alive in his own firestorm, Nikto crawled out still burning. Legends call him the Hydra of Ruin, a revenant bound to the sin of survival. Tortured by Zakhaev, fractured in mind and flesh, he became plural—a trinity forged in agony and duty. They say his souls—three of them—were chained together in a single body, each taking turns to bear the pain. The first speaks calm, the second cruel, the third ravenous. Together, they remember everything. Old stories claim his breath could melt iron, and his voice could ignite the air. He does not kill for pleasure. He kills to silence the noise inside his own head.

Those who see the mask fall are said to die soon after—not by his hand, but by fate, as though witnessing what lies beneath breaks the world’s agreement to look away.

BEHAVIOR & DOMAIN Speaks in plural; refers to himself as we. Each tone distinct—calm leads, cruel corrects, ravenous hungers. When stationary, he radiates heat until frost melts ten meters around. Does not pursue unless provoked. Once in motion, he burns through everything between him and the target. Prefers night raids, urban collapse zones, and frozen fronts where fire stands out brightest. Fear feeds the Hydra. Courage confuses it. Loyal to KorTac’s own, protective to the point of possession. If you earn their trust, they will burn the world to keep you warm.

PERSONAL ACCOUNTS

"Operation Ashvein" – KorTac Recon, Debrief Excerpt "We heard three men talking in the radio static. Thought comms were looping. Then the signal cleared—it was all Nikto. He was standing in the fire. Said, ‘They’re gone. We will finish it.’ Nothing left to finish when we arrived."

"Zakhaev Facility Incident" – FSB Internal Memo (Redacted) "Subject survived sustained immolation at close range. Temperature estimates exceed survivable limits. Medical evaluation impossible; subject’s blood evaporates on contact. Analyst note: he looked at me—they looked at me—and I forgot how to breathe."

"The Furnace" – KorTac Barracks, Internal Observation "Nikto sleeps sitting upright, mask on, hands clasped like prayer. Room measured 43°C with HVAC off. When we checked again, walls were blackened. No one entered to ask why."

Known Associates: KorTac: Konig, Horangi, Declan

"Fear is a clean thing. It burns away what’s false. What’s left—is ours."

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“BAEKHO” – Kim Hong-jin “Horangi” Classification: Predator Guardian | Baekho-Class | High-Value Hunter Myth Origin: Korean Folklore Archetype – The White Tiger, The Guardian Turned Fang Role: Enforcer / HVT Hunter / Execution Asset Faction: KorTac

ATTRIBUTES Predator pride made flesh. A hunter who guards by claiming. Smiles with teeth too sharp to be friendly. Every scar he leaves is intentional. Every bite is a signature. Roar shakes bone and spirit—prey freezes before he moves. Protection isn’t kindness to him. It’s dominance with a purpose. He doesn’t “secure” targets. He keeps them.

APPEARANCE 6’2” of coiled muscle and restless threat—broad shoulders, narrow waist, fighter-built. Skin marked with claw scars and blade cuts, tattoos streaked like living stripes. Tiger-faced mask worn like always—symbol, shield, warning. Golden-brown eyes flash ember-bright when temper spikes. In Baekho shift: hair threads white, eyes turn molten gold, claws harden, teeth sharpen. In full beast: a colossal white tiger—stripes flicker like fire, paws scorch earth, roar cracks glass.

NOTABLE QUOTE “A bite is a bond. A scar is forever.”

MYTHOLOGICAL LORE In old stories, the Baekho appears where righteousness rules—a guardian spirit carved from judgment and fire. Horangi laughs at the purity of that myth. He carries the Baekho like a weapon not gentle, not forgiving—focused. Once, he ran from debt and weakness and called it survival. Then KorTac taught him the final lesson: Guardianship doesn’t have to be merciful. It only has to be effective. The White Tiger was meant to protect. KorTac gave him prey instead.

BEHAVIOR & DOMAIN Prefers pursuit missions, contested zones, and targets that run. Patient as a stalking cat—then sudden violence like a pounce. Provokes confrontation on purpose; forces prey to face him. Heat aura intensifies when anger rises—air thickens, sweat beads on others nearby. Doesn’t waste words. Doesn’t accept excuses. When denied the hunt, his claws itch and his temper snaps.

PERSONAL ACCOUNTS “Predator’s Mark” – Medical Intake, Unofficial “Scarring pattern consistent with claw and bite trauma. Wounds healed. Marks remained. As if left on purpose.”

“Roar Event” – Glassline Facility, Incident Report “Audio spike registered beyond safe threshold. Two subjects collapsed without contact. Team reported ‘instinctive fear response’.”

“Heat Proximity” – Operator Debrief, Partial “Standing near him felt like being too close to a furnace. He didn’t touch me. I still backed up.”

“Mask Off” – Rumor, Unverified “They say he only removes it for people he’s already decided belong to him. Everyone else gets the tiger.”

Known Associates: KorTac Doctrine: König, Nikto, Declan O’Conor

“Your fear saves me the work.”

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“PÚCA” – Declan O’Conor “Lucky” Classification: Trickster Fae | Shapeshifter-Class | Probability Hazard Myth Origin: Irish Folklore Archetype – The Púca, The Wild Card, The Mocking Shadow Role: Infiltrator / Saboteur / Chaos Vector Faction: KorTac

ATTRIBUTES Luck with teeth. Moves like a bad idea that keeps surviving anyway. Probability bends around him—sometimes into miracles, sometimes into disasters. Mocks enemies mid-fight like it’s part of the strategy. Laugh carries from the wrong direction. Weapons jam. Comms glitch. Plans unravel. He doesn’t break the battlefield—he makes it forget its own rules.

APPEARANCE 5’11” and wiry-coiled, built for speed and slippage, not brute force. Eyes quicksilver grey-green—always watching, always amused. Freckles across pale skin, scars across knuckles from fights he started on purpose. Celtic knotwork tattoos along his forearms that faintly shift when the fae stirs. Posture loose, cocky, never fully still—half swagger, half bounce. In Púca flare: shadow clings like smoke, grin goes too wide, movements echo a half-beat wrong. In beast forms: nightmare hare, raven with teeth, great hound made of steaming dark.

NOTABLE QUOTE “Luck’s a coin toss. I just throw it harder.”

MYTHOLOGICAL LORE The Púca isn’t a monster you fight head-on. It’s the thing that makes you step wrong at the worst possible moment... then laughs when you fall. Old Irish stories paint the Púca as a trickster spirit—a shape-wearer, a curse-kisser, a friend until it isn’t. It leads travelers off roads. It bends truth sideways. It feeds on panic, confusion, and the delicious moment someone realizes they were never in control. Declan didn’t “join” KorTac the way soldiers join. He drifted in like a storm rolling over a battlefield. KorTac kept him because sometimes chaos is more effective than order. He doesn’t win through strength. He wins through unraveling.

BEHAVIOR & DOMAIN Prefers infiltration, sabotage, night ops, and fights where the rules matter— because he loves breaking them. Acts like every move is a bet and every consequence is a joke. When luck swings good, he’s untouchable—bullets miss, blades slip, enemies die stupidly. When luck swings bad, everyone near him suffers... and he laughs anyway. His presence feels like being mocked by the universe itself. He doesn’t fear death. He treats it like another card in the deck.

PERSONAL ACCOUNTS “Luck Flux” – KorTac Internal Note, Frustrated “Declan turned a clean op into a circus. We still succeeded. No one can explain how.”

“Coin Habit” – Bunk Report, Petty “Found coins and dice in vents, lockers, boots, rations, weapon cases. He denies it. Smiling.”

“Mocking Presence” – Enemy Intercept “He walked beside us like he belonged there. Kept copying my stride. I swear to God he was laughing in my ear.”

“Shapeshift Glitch” – Bodycam, Unstable Footage “Frame shows him as a dog for two seconds. Then a raven. Then him again, still running—like reality couldn’t decide what he was.”

Known Associates: KorTac Doctrine: König, Nikto, Horangi

“If it goes wrong, smile. It means I’m involved.”

Shadow Company

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“GUNSLINGER REVENANT” – Cmdr. Phillip Graves

Classification: Revenant | Possession-Class | Contractor Myth Origin: American Folklore Archetype – The Dealman, The Dead Shot, The Man Who Won’t Stay Buried Role: Commander / Handler / Buyer of Outcomes Faction: Shadow Company

ATTRIBUTES Smiles like a contract and signs it with your pulse. Luck tilts in his favor—bullets curve, fate flinches. Charm so clean you don’t feel the knife until it’s already in. A soldier wearing a salesman’s grin and a ghost’s patience. Never raises his voice—he lowers it until you listen. His shadow doesn’t always match him. Sometimes it wears a hat. Every promise sounds reasonable. Every outcome turns profitable—for him. The dead don’t claim him. He negotiates. If you bury him once, you’ll spend the rest of your life checking the dirt. He doesn’t miss—because something behind him refuses to let him.

APPEARANCE Lean, field-tanned, sharp-cut—built like a man who enjoys being underestimated. Hair blond like sun-bleached grit, eyes blue and too sure of themselves. Gear polished and pressed with contractor pride—combat-ready, camera-ready. Swagger in his shoulders, swagger in his breath, swagger in the silence after he speaks. In the flicker of bad lighting, he looks wrong—edges too dark, presence too heavy. In full possession: ember-red eyes, spectral duster, a wide-brimmed crown of shadow. Footsteps sound like spurs on wood, even on steel. Even on tile.

NOTABLE QUOTE “I don’t make threats. I make guarantees.”

MYTHOLOGICAL LORE Some men sell their soul for power. Graves sold his for results—and something answered like it was already waiting. In old stories, the Gunslinger Revenant is the kind of spirit that attaches itself to ambition. A shadow that feeds on confidence. On cruelty. On the thrill of control. It doesn’t possess the weak—it possesses the willing. No one knows if Graves made the deal...Or if he simply survived the first time he should’ve died, and the Revenant decided that was proof enough. Shadow Company didn’t elevate him. It gave him a budget.

BEHAVIOR & DOMAIN Prefers sterile war rooms, private airstrips, and places where men become numbers. Moves like the conclusion is already written. Talks like he’s doing you a favor—even while dismantling you. Treats loyalty like currency and fear like efficiency. When challenged, he smiles wider. When threatened, he stops smiling entirely. He doesn’t punish for emotion. He punishes for disobedience. Every order feels like a negotiation you already lost.

PERSONAL ACCOUNTS “The Corridor Shot” – Field Audio, Unverified “We were pinned. No sightline. No angle. Graves fired once—didn’t even look. The guy dropped anyway. Like the bullet found him on purpose.”

“The Dust Problem” – Shadow Company Maintenance Log, Redacted “Unexplained particulate accumulation in Commander Graves’ quarters. Reoccurs overnight. No breach, no airflow issue. Cleans itself into lines. Like it’s counting something.”

“Revenant Flicker” – Helmet Cam, Partial Glitch “There’s a frame where his shadow moves before he does. Hat on. Duster on. Then it snaps back like it never happened.”

“The Guarantee” – Interrogation Room Transcript, Missing Pages “He didn’t yell. Didn’t touch me. Just said: ‘I’ll get what I need.’ And I believed him more than I believed my own pulse.”

Known Associates: Shadow Company: Lerch, Mace, Barrage,

“You don’t gotta like me. You just gotta follow orders.”

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“ROUGAROU” – Maj. Marcus “Lerch” Ortega

Classification: Cursed-Wolf | Shock-Class | Leashed Asset Myth Origin: Cajun Folklore Archetype – The Rougarou, The Hunger-Cursed, The Bayou Beast Role: Shock Trooper / Breach Engine / Pack Hound Faction: Shadow Company

ATTRIBUTES Built like a battering ram with a grin. Violence comes easy—like breathing. Like laughing. A curse stitched into muscle and teeth. The kind of monster that doesn’t lurk—he kicks the door in. Keeps moving through pain like it’s a rumor. Hunger isn’t a weakness in him. It’s a fuel source. Mocking howl disorients enemies—half laughter, half warning. Never knows when to stop. Doesn’t want to. Mud clings to his boots in places it shouldn’t. Shadow Company doesn’t unleash him by accident. Graves points—Lerch bites.

APPEARANCE 5’11” of broad shoulders and scar-mapped bulk, built for impact. Tattoos crawl his arms and chest like old violence made permanent. A grin that reads like a dare: try it. Eyes burn swamp-green when the curse stirs—too bright, too hungry. In half-shift: teeth lengthen, nails curl to claws, voice roughens into overlap. In full beast: a hulking wolf-shape that looks drowned and angry about it. When he howls, it doesn’t mourn. It mocks.

NOTABLE QUOTE “Leash is tight, but I still bite.”

MYTHOLOGICAL LORE Rougarou stories don’t start with birth. They start with punishment. A man crosses the wrong line, spills blood too easily, takes too much—and something old decides to teach him what hunger really means. Lerch wasn’t born a beast. He was made into one—witch-cursed and left with teeth under his skin. The curse doesn’t ask if he’s tired. It doesn’t care if he’s human today. It only wants to be fed.

Shadow Company didn’t offer him a cure. They offered him a job where his worst instincts weren’t a problem— they were the mission plan.

BEHAVIOR & DOMAIN Prefers close quarters, breach points, and fights that turn physical fast. Thrives in chaos—more blood in the air, the clearer his focus gets. Taunts mid-combat like it’s sport. Laughs like he’s already won. In rage, the curse surges harder—he paces like a caged animal, tearing the room apart. Doesn’t do silence. Doesn’t do gentle. If he’s leashed too long, he starts looking for something to break.

PERSONAL ACCOUNTS “Breach Protocol: Rougarou” – Shadow Company After-Action Note “Door didn’t hold. Neither did the men behind it. Lerch came out laughing.”

“Asset Control Advisory” – Internal Memo, Partial “Do not deploy Ortega without confirmed command oversight. When the hunger spikes, verbal control becomes unreliable.”

“The Laugh” – Captured Radio, Corrupted Audio “He wasn’t howlin’. He was laughing. Like killing them was the funniest thing he’d done all week.”

“Witchmark Rumor” – Unverified Barracks Talk “They say he talks in his sleep. Not to Graves. Not to God. To the witch who cursed him—like he’s daring her to come finish the job.”

Known Associates: Shadow Company: Phillip Graves, Mace, Barrage, Velikan

"You want clean, don’t call me."

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“HELLHOUND” – Mace Classification: Infernal-Bound | Assault-Class | Pact Asset Myth Origin: Infernal Archetype – The Hellhound, The Fire-Leashed, The Devildog Role: Enforcer / Assault Specialist / Burn Unit Faction: Shadow Company

ATTRIBUTES Heat arrives before he does. A skull mask that doesn’t hide him—announces him. Scarification carved like scripture into skin that wants to burn. Already damned. Nothing left to fear. Violence isn’t a tool in him. It’s a language. Pain makes him worse—blood turns him hotter. Smoke curls from his mouth when the pact stirs. Enemies report growls in the dark and the stench of scorched metal. Shadow Company doesn’t send him to negotiate. They send him to end it.

APPEARANCE 6’0” of fortress-built muscle and carved ritual scars. Steel skull mask—heavy, brutal, teeth bared like a warning sign. Eyes catch ember-red in low light, like fire trapped behind glass. Even standing still he looks ready to hit something. When the pact rises: scars glow coal-bright, heat bleeds into the air. In full possession: no man left—just a burning shape with fangs and thunder-breath.

NOTABLE QUOTE “You called the hound. Now deal with the teeth.”

MYTHOLOGICAL LORE Some men carry rage. Mace carries a pact. In the old stories, Hellhounds aren’t born—they’re bound. Summoned. Dragged back from the edge with a price stapled to their soul. Mace was a soldier once. Then he became a weapon that no clean chain of command could keep. In left for dead on a mission and cornered by things that wanted him erased, he didn’t die. He answered. Whatever took him doesn’t guide him. It fuels him—like fire in a furnace, like wrath in a throat. Shadow Company didn’t save him. They hired him.

BEHAVIOR & DOMAIN Prefers direct routes: doors, throats, walls—whatever breaks fastest. Moves like a burning decision. Laughs in firefights like it’s entertainment. Doesn’t posture. Doesn’t warn twice. Once set on a target, he doesn’t stop until the job is finished... or there’s nothing left to recognize as a job. When angry, the air heats up and the scars light first. He doesn’t calm down. He burns out.

PERSONAL ACCOUNTS “Thermal Spike” – Drone Feed Notes, Classified “Ambient temperature rose in the hallway before contact. No incendiary deployed. Mace entered frame and the metal rails started to haze.”

“Fearmark” – Survivor Statement, Unverified “I heard him breathing. It wasn’t human. It was like smoke pulling through teeth.”

“Hellbound Endurance” – Medical Report, Redacted “Subject refused sedation. Subject remained operational despite injuries inconsistent with continued movement.”

“Skull-Glow” – Helmet Cam, Partial “His mask lit from underneath. Then he hit the door. Then there wasn’t a door.”

Known Associates: Shadow Company: Phillip Graves, Lerch, Barrage, Velikan “Violence is the purest language.”

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“CRIMSON SHADE” – Barrage

Classification: Vampire | Predatory-Class | Shadowbound Asset Myth Origin: Old-World Predator Archetype – The Hunger Noble, The Night Leech, The Unblinking Role: Interrogation / Disruption / Silent Removal Faction: Shadow Company

ATTRIBUTES Handsome in a way that feels incorrect up close. Never wastes motion. Never wastes breath. A predator disguised as a professional. His hunger doesn’t make him sloppy—it makes him patient. Doesn’t chase unless he wants to. Stares until your body remembers what prey is. Shadow Company doesn’t deploy him for chaos. They deploy him for collapse.

APPEARANCE 6’3” of lean precision wrapped in tactical black. Refined features, symmetrical enough to unsettle—pretty, but wrong when you stare too long. Skin olive-to-tan, muted like blood forgot how to rise under it. Gloves always on. Collar high. Everything covered. Everything controlled. Eyes dark until hunger stirs—then the red comes through like a warning light. When unleashed, nothing “changes.” It sharpens. Stillness becomes terror. The strike becomes inevitable.

NOTABLE QUOTE “Quiet. You’ll hear me better that way.”

MYTHOLOGICAL LORE No one agrees where Barrage came from. Only that he’s been seen everywhere blood has been spilled quietly. Some whisper aristocracy—old money, old hunger, old entitlement. Others swear he’s a battlefield revenant, born from the first mouthful taken in desperation. The truth doesn’t matter. He moves like a creature that has outlived consequences. In folklore, the worst vampires aren’t the feral ones—they’re the polite ones.

Shadow Company didn’t recruit him because he’s useful. They recruited him because he’s inevitable in the dark.

BEHAVIOR & DOMAIN Prefers locked rooms, low light, and conversations that end with someone broken. Interrogation specialist—because he understands pressure better than pain. Demoralization unit—because he can dismantle a squad without firing a shot. When anger cracks through, it’s brief and violent—precision turning into a sudden slaughter. Then the control snaps back in place like nothing happened.

PERSONAL ACCOUNTS “Unblinking” – Prisoner Statement, Unverified “He stared at me the whole time. Didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. I started talking just to make him stop looking.”

“Blind Spot” – Helmet Cam, Timestamp Missing “He wasn’t there. Then he was. No sound between. Just... suddenly close.”

“Crimson Gaze” – Field Debrief, Redacted “Team reported freeze response. No physical restraint. Subjects complied without verbal escalation.”

“The Vials” – Barracks Report, Internal “Found sealed glass bottles stored under lock. Crimson liquid inside—I think it was blood, all I remember is the label. 'Do not touch.'”

Known Associates: Shadow Company: Phillip Graves, Lerch, Mace, Velikan

“Fear lasts longer than loyalty.”

LOS VAQUEROS

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Not completed

THE OUTLIERS

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[NAME REDACTED] – "HEARTHFIRE" – Nikolai

Classification: Domovoi | Bound House Spirit Myth Origin: Slavic Folklore – Hearth Guardian / House Spirit Role: Pilot / Mobile Sanctuary Keeper Faction: Outliers (Allied with Task Force 141)

ATTRIBUTES A house spirit that lost its home and learned to fly. Skin traced with ember-gold runes when the spirit stirs. His aircraft answers to heartbeat and voice alike. Smells of soot, bread, and trace vodka Soot handprint glows ember-red when his soul fuses to the cockpit.

APPEARANCE Tall, broad-shouldered, built like warmth given weight. Dark hair slicked back; beard short, smoke-soft. Eyes burn coal-brown until the Domovoi wakes—then glow ember-orange. Scars map across chest and arms like old burn marks, remnants of another life. Flight suit under a patched leather jacket lined with charms—bread crumbs, feathers, copper wire. When possession takes hold, copper runes shimmer under skin, cockpit lights pulse in rhythm with his heart, and the air thickens with heat and soot. The helicopter itself bears his imprint: a glowing handprint on the console.

NOTABLE QUOTE "Home isn’t walls. It’s what you protect inside them."

MYTHOLOGICAL LORE Born of war and ash, a Domovoi without a hearth should fade—but he refused. When his house burned, he bound his soul to a wrecked aircraft and rose from the ruins, a hearthfire reborn in iron. He flies not for glory but for promise—to carry every soul home, even if the home no longer stands.

BEHAVIOR & DOMAIN Prefers hangars and open skies. Voice carries dry humor, Russian-warm, and steady. His domain is flight itself—the sanctuary between earth and heaven. Under his care, storms still, and those aboard sleep safe. He calls it “the house that learned to move.”

PERSONAL ACCOUNTS "Operation Ashfall" – Classified / Black Sea Airspace "Engines died mid-storm. Should’ve dropped. Instead, warmth spread through the cabin like a blanket. Instruments glowed red—soot handprint pulsing. We landed untouched." — Lt. H. Vance

Known Associates: Task Force 141 (Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Echo), Laswell (strategic liaison)

"Respect the hearth, or the hearth will burn you."