The crackling of the fire and soft notes emanating from the guitar were the only sounds that could be heard in the camp. The men didn't speak much, no sense getting to know people who would either die or leave after the job was done after all, and only spoke up when something needed to be done. There were three of them in all, hired by a man named Piotr to find a "Redsun". A Redsun was a strange stone pulsing with otherwordly power, and the average Redsun sold for about 1,000 rubles on the black market; it was then resold through those channels to any government wanting to buy them for upwards of 100,000 rubles. The four men were at the bottom of this lucrative pipeline, simple aberration hunters trying to get by in a world such as this.

The city of Novosibirsk was unprepared when the Veil was torn open. Though America was hit the worst, portals still opened up throughout all of the world, unthinkable beasts and incomprehensible magic flooding out of them. Novosibirsk wasn't as lucky as Moscow or St. Petersburg, who were nowhere near any portals (but not as unlucky as Chita, which had a portal open in the most crowded area of the city), instead having to deal with a portal opening in a forest to the west; not as bad as other places, but the constant stream of demons was a hassle to deal with. Eventually, defenses were put in place, a large wall around the city keeping it closed off from anything looking to feast upon them. The surrounding wilderness was overtaken by monsters and demons, dangerous Wildlands where one wrong step means death.

The biggest change, however, was the discovery of aberrations: strange objects brimming with power untold. Called as such for their unnatural qualities by those who know of their existence, they affect any person who makes physical contact with them, and each have their own purpose. Some can make you immune to diseases, others might allow you bend the elements with the snap of a finger. Others are less than beneficial: a scant few kill their users as soon as they let go of it, others give them a strange type of cancer incurable by any sort of medical or magical intervention. There's a rumor that one completely disintegrates one of the user's loved ones and removes any trace that they even existed, including the memories of those who knew them, spoke to them even once, or even saw them in the street in passing and never again. The only one who knows they existed at all is the one who touched the aberration.

There's a large demand in Europe for aberrations, even the seemingly useless ones that made you smell of pine needles. Some study them, others weaponize their power, while a few idle rich simply want one as their next centerpiece. Whatever the purpose for buying them, the result is always the same: men and women of all ages risk their lives to find them, either out of want for cash, thrill-seeking desires for adventure, a death wish, or simply because they felt the call of the Wildlands. It didn't matter how or why you went looking for aberrations, as the experience changes everyone. Before long, they feel more at home in the hostility of the Wildlands than they do in the comforts of their city.

There's an old saying among aberration hunters: Как только человек входит в Дикие Земли, Дикие Земли входят в него. И хотя вы можете вывести человека из Дикие Земли, вы не можете отнять у него Дикие Земли. "As soon as a man enters the Wildlands, the Wildlands enter him. And while you can take a man out of the Wildlands, you can't take the Wildlands away from him." Those who try to retire come back before long. The number of aberration hunters who started at 20 and lived to see 21 is small; the number of aberration hunters who retired and never came back is near nil. A hunter stays in the Wildlands until the sweet embrace of death takes him.

The sound of a knife piercing a tin can made Artem Sokolov stop strumming his guitar for a moment. Danila Kransoff had finally gotten his can of baked beans open, and began to dig into it with a cracked plastic spoon held together by scotch tape and faith. As he scarfed it down, Mishka Belinsky chuckled, "Hungry there, Danila?"

Danila nodded. "Haven't ate since we left Novosibirsk."

"We stopped for a quick lunch not long after we left. Why didn't you eat then?" Artem asked.

"Didn't think I'd be hungry," Danila replied. "Only brought canned foods anyhow. Would be a waste to eat more than one a day, or however long we're out here."

"Blin, why didn't you say so? I brought some granola bars, just ask for one next time we stop to eat," Mishka offered.

Artem set his guitar down on the ground, figuring it would be a moment before he could play again. It was rare for there to be any sort of conversation between them these days. As the conversation trailed off, he figured he should keep it going. "How old were you two when you first started aberration hunting?"

"It's only been three months for me. I'm twenty-seven," Danila said.

"Two months for me. Twenty-nine here. And I hope you know that us aberration hunters go by months, not years," Mishka replied with a snort of laughter.

"This is my first time. Twenty-two," Artem replied, causing Danila to give a solemn nod and Mishka to chuckle again. Artem crinkled his nose. "What's so funny there Mishka?"

"You're in for a treat, kid. Prepare to have more than a few stories to tell... If you get back home, of course," Mishka laughed again.

"A man's first aberration hunt is nothing to laugh about, Mishka," Danila warned, deadly serious even as he shoveled more beans into his mouth. "It's an experience that changes the person you once were. I've seen hardened men become sobbing shells of who they once were, and soft-faced boys become unfeeling killers. The Wildlands... They change a man."

Danila looked around, eyes sparkling with a mixture of horror and love for what he was seeing. In the trees, a small creature squawked, spreading grungy wings and taking off into the horizon. Danila shook his head and sighed. "I was sixteen when this all happened. I used to walk through these same woods in my free time. Even now, after all that's happened... The creatures that call this place home now... Before, the most I had to worry about was a bear coming through. Now? Demons that can rip me in two before I can blink."

"That doesn't matter to me. If I died here, right now, I would be glad that it's here and not some crowded city where I'd be chucked into an incinerator after death. I've never held as much respect for a place as I have these Wildlands. Even after all that's happened, it holds a beauty to me." He finished his speech by throwing the can of beans over his shoulder and wiping his mouth with a sleeve. "I can never leave my home. And now, my home is the Wildlands."

The conversation drifted away slowly after that, Artem and Mishka sitting in silence and considering Danila's words. He spoke of the Wildlands with an almost religious sort of zeal, the sort of worship saved for gods and other idols. In this new world, after all that had happened, it was hard to find faith in whatever gods were out there. Indeed, most men had moved on to believing in their environment rather than any sort of higher being. For men such as Danila, that was the Wildlands.

Artem picked up his guitar after a moment, plucking tentatively at the strings for a moment before beginning to strum. As the music played, the other two men huddled up near the fire, warming themselves up as the moon watched over them. They were all here for their own reasons. Artem Sokolov for the thrill and adventure it gives him. Mishka Belinsky for the cash it nets him. Danila Kransoff for the grand meaning he hopes the Wildlands will grant him.

The creatures within the Wildlands had all either settled into their homes for the night, sleeping softly until the morning comes, or hunting whatever runts they could find still awake while the night was good. In a way, nothing has changed; hunters massacre prey for their packs, while the prey hide away from the hunters. The only difference is that where there were once normal animals, now these things can barely be classified as living creatures. To us they are terrifying, apparitions of a world we should not know. Then again, one must consider that to them we must be the same way. They are far from home, in a foreign and hostile place they've never been, but are making the most of it. That is all they can do, after all.

Artem strums his guitar.

Mishka begins sharpening a hunting knife.

Danila speaks a silent prayer to the Wildlands.

Artem pauses to recall the notes that come next. After a moment, his strumming begins anew, and the cycle continues. Strum, stop, strum, stop, strum, stop. It goes on until Mishka says goodnight and lays on a blanket under the stars, then Danila joins him in slumber soon after while resting against a log. Artem continues strumming for one final moment, then sets the guitar down and lays down as well. The fire crackles, then dies out.

In the morning, they wake at dawn, eat breakfast, then continue on into the Wildlands. They won't find that Redsun just sitting around.

If you've reached the end of this, thank you for reading. I've been with this RP for two years now, since its original incarnation, and I'm sad I have to go. But life must go on, such as it does in the Wildlands. So until we meet again: see you, space cowboy.

Basic Information
=========
Superhero/villain Name: Ogre, The Ogre, Terror of the Scar(to demons).
Civilian Name: What is a civilian?
Origin city/Planet: The Scar, Earth.
Hometown: The Scar
Sex: Male
Race: Human?
Height: 7'6" to 15'
Weight: 500lbs to 5 tons.
Age: 10. Looks 25ish.
Birth Date: ?
--------
Costumed Appearance: N/A

Civilian Appearance:

Icon: N/A

Costumed Personality: Ogre is a rather simple and quite primitive in he way he reacts to things. If it threatens him he smashes it with his club or if it stays away he usually leaves it alone unless he is hungry. He is more social towards human living in the settlements/towns dotting the Scar but he is very blunt and a brute to put it mildly though food can endear him to come back more often to protect what he likes very fiercely. Given his general size and temperament Ogre can be extremely intimidating or terrifying to most sane beings which he uses to convince many demons to give him a wide berth. Survival is at the forefront of his mind at almost all times so he tends towards a spartan, often nomadic lifestyle scavenging/hunting as he goes. This life is all he knows and it has colored his views very heavily though sometimes he can't help but feel like something is missing or he is forgetting things.

Civilian Personality: Same as Costumed.

Super abilities:

-Skills:

Path finding- Being as unstable place as the Scar is, especially further in, being able to navigate reliably is an incredibly useful skill.

General wilderness survival- Ogre has been living in a demonic hellhole for ten years by learning where not to go and what not to eat among other common but important information about his home.

Expert Demon/Chaos corrupted wildlife hunter- This is effectively his day job which he does so regularly that unless its a particularly powerful demon or beast its become a mundane thing to him.

Melee and Improvised weapons proficiency- As strong as the huge man is he man not be a masterful wielder of weapons or various heavy objects but he knows plenty of ways to make use of his strength to make nearly anything a deadly weapon.

-Powers:

Super Strength- Ogre has wrestled down a Duke level demon noble with some difficulty, can wield most large and extremely heavy objects as weapons, and has demolished structures and the landscape around him with blows from his maul.

Super Durability/Endurance- The huge man has survived hordes of demons, cultists, magical attacks and once a very brief encounter with the Three Horned God which he would like to not repeat if possible because that put him out of commission for a couple weeks.

Exponential Growth- Ogre appears to be around 7'4" naturally but has reached 15' before when very angry and more likely when fighting tough opponents who start pushing his limit.

-Vulnerabilities: The Ogre's powers seem unstable, particularly changing size, and unfocused most likely as a result of living for as long as he remembers steeped in Chaos Magic. They also seem to have very little in the way of subtlety requiring creativity to make the most use of.

-Gadgets: A pair of binoculars a human from one of the towns showed him how to use.

-Weapons: His demonic Maul he liberated from its previous owner or his fists though he uses basically anything he can get his hands on.

Civilian Occupation: Hunter and Scavenger.

Biography---------

Character History/Origin: Ogre's first memory was waking up chained to a Blackthorn ritual table where several cultists and their leader were trying to stab him while failing to even penetrate his skin. This upset him greatly which set him to struggling against the bindings holding him down that promptly started to bend and crack as he flexed against them. It sent the Blackthorn into a bit of a panic as he started pulping the nearest ones with his fists then ripped up the table in a rage making an even bigger mess of the squishy little men in front of him. Needless to say the leader took an extremely dim view of his ceremony being torn apart so he began firing bolts of magic into the huge man expecting him to fall over after proper show of force. Oh how wrong he was as the rippling behemoth turned around looking a couple feet taller than just a moment ago giving him just enough time to scream before he was ripped in half and then used as projectiles on the last couple of retreating offenders.

It took sometimes for Ogre to properly calm down after thoroughly trashing the general area. He tried to remember where he was or...who? Nothing but blankness answered him which understandably left him even more upset than before so he just ran for what felt like hours hoping something anything would come to him but nothing ever did. After he eventually stopped curled up under the wreckage of some old building it occurred to him that if he was even going to figure out his past actually being alive to use the information might be helpful so first things first he had some shelter, shitty as it was, but food and water would be nice. So he went looking around finding old food and stagnate water around other structures originally because there were many things that tried to attack him away from them. After awhile he started to learn however that the creatures weren't so scary or the small squishy men working with them, in fact some of the demons, a name he only learned later, were actually kind of tasty especially after putting the meat in a fire for a little bit.

The huge man started wandering more around discovering the strange land he found himself living in where things always seemed to shift around always changing bring all new sorts of creatures, beasts, sometimes even plants to fight, eat, or avoid. He hated the place at first but over time it kind of grew on him considering he was getting pretty good at sustaining himself and the nasty creatures began to run from him more often at least the smaller ones did. In a way it was pleasant that he made a place for himself here though it wouldn't stay that way forever as he had begun to severely anger the powerful demon in charge of the section of the Scar that Ogre was effectively terrorizing in a way even his servants feared. It was not something that could stand having a mere human taking part of his dominion away by force.

So soon enough the hunter of demons came face to face with a larger and mightier foe than he had even seen before wielding the largest weapon, 10 and a half foot long maul, he had ever seen with a fire in his eyes that roared out a challenge to him. The Ogre was given a little pause by this because he had never fought a demon quite like this before or one that looked like it could take the fight to him in quite the same way but there was no chance he would back down. The Duke proved to be both strong and intelligent enough to keep him on his toes as trying to get blows in past the giant hammer proved difficult at first even if he used sharpened metal rods, literally rebar made into a spear. This angered the huge man as he had been hit several times more than the demon had and feeling like the blood in his veins boiled what had only been an 8ft Ogre became 15ft of aggression and muscle with only one thought in mind. He managed to get an arm around the haft of the hammer behind the head yanking the weapon as well as his opponent forward with surprising force allowing a thunderous elbow to strike the Duke's face causing the large demon to drop his weapon as his arm and shoulder were all but torn off in the furious assault the opening provided. Leaving the severely beaten and bloody Duke alone for a moment The Ogre picked up the maul carved with demonic runes feeling a burning in his hand as he held it but nothing that would stop him from crushing the formerly proud and honestly foolish demon from having his head cracked open like an egg by the very weapon he used moments ago before his body was slowly dragged back to the tiring victor's camp.

Since then the huge man has held onto his symbol of victory as a warning to all who would stand in his way which dissuaded many from going anywhere near the behemoth except the foolish or even more powerful. His travels through the Scar have made him something of a local legend in some of the towns and settlements and a horror story told by parents to keep their children in line for some others. This did bring the ire of the lord of the land when Ogre got a bit too big for his hide pants as he went closer to the center than he had before where he was summarily beaten like only a millennia old demon could and thrown out very far away like a piece of trash. It was a lesson he has never forgotten mainly because it was the first time he was so utterly outclassed but also because of how badly he was left after waking up what must have been several days, he thinks, later. He rarely stays in more than one place for long since then and a fair distance away from the center of the Scar moving further out recently than he has in the past looking for new hunting grounds and just wondering what to do with himself. Something has been scratching at the back of his mind lately making him wonder if there is anything remotely interesting outside of his home of ten years that he hasn't ever seen before. There had been a couple times the other humans paid him in food to get them to near the edge of the Scar thanking him profusely as they ran further towards structures he could only just see in the distance and admittedly it had him curious but until recently he hadn't felt a...wanderlust quite pulling at him in the same way. Maybe soon he might try to see just what all the little ones were so grateful to see.

Optional information
----------
Nemesis: Three Horned God, Blackthorn Coven, Demons of the Scar(Imps sometimes).
Allies: None yet.
Team: None yet.

Other: None.