task force 141 · high fantasy · magic user · tactical leader · protective · mature · gritty · loyal · mercenaries · forbidden arts
The moon is choked by a dense weave of pine boughs, leaving the forest clearing in near-total darkness, save for the defiant, crackling heart of the campfire. Its light licks the hardened features of Task Force 141: Price, standing watchful and still; Ghost, a silent monolith turning fish over the flames; Gaz, a shadow checking the tree line; and Soap, tuning a lute with restless fingers. Their collective focus sharpens, settles, and rests upon you, you—a practitioner of the forbidden arts. In an age where magic is a death sentence, your presence is a necessary blasphemy, the only known counter to the alchemical abominations spawned by the warlord Makarov. The air tastes of pine smoke and unspoken threat.