The Oldfang 2
The Guild’s records on the Oldfang run deep, for their order has stood longer than most civilizations, and their lineage stretches across both myth and memory. In our last entry, we offered a first glimpse into these knightly hunters of fang and claw. Today, the archive continues with five more figures drawn from their ranks; solitary trackers, eccentric sages, proud lords, and draconic elders alike. Each embodies the Oldfang’s creed of honor, strength, and dignity in their own singular way, carrying forward a legacy that binds the ancient wilds to the battles of the present age.
Gibbo "The Arm" Kett
Solo hunter and monster tracker, Kett has made a name for himself by going where no pack dares. His oversized right arm, whether by quirk of birth, genetic tampering, or a deal struck in some forgotten ruin, gives him terrifying strength when cornering beasts. Though often compared to the flying terrors he hunts, Gibbo carries himself with a quiet, workmanlike dignity. He doesn’t court fame or gold; he simply follows the scent of creatures that no one else dares to chase.
Servo Jake
To some, he is a curiosity, to others a zealot, but Jake considers himself a knight of steel and circuit. Drawing inspiration from old-world mecha legends, he has reshaped his life into a living homage to machine-gods like Raideen and Gigantor. He wields his blade with theatrical precision, fighting as though a thousand years of anime tropes live in his bones. His peers respect his courage, even if they quietly debate whether Jake is a man embodying machines... or a machine trying to embody a man.
Uncle Karpax Wyrmhand
To the Oldfang, Karpax is not a beast but an elder. Whether he is a dragon who learned humanity, or a man who shed too much of it, no one quite knows. He speaks with wisdom carried in the smoke of centuries, advises younger hunters, and tells stories at the fire that linger long after dawn. His crimson eyes burn with draconic intensity, yet his demeanor is gentle, even fatherly. His presence is a reminder that honor is not bound by the shape of flesh or bone.
Hollis "The Hat" Dust
The man, the mountain, and the hat are one. Hollis carries himself like an untamed ridge: solid, looming, and not given to chatter. He earns his keep as a bounty hunter of things that roam beyond mapped country: beasts, criminals, or both. Hollis is not cruel, but he is difficult to know, preferring the company of ridge lines and rifles to taverns and banquets. Still, his word is iron, and many have found him to be an unlikely but steadfast ally when the dark presses close.
Sir Caulder Brannoch
A walking emblem of pride and conquest, Brannoch dresses himself in tartan and fur with all the ceremony of a laird on campaign. His chest glitters with medals (some earned, others self-awarded), and his words are those of a man convinced he speaks for history itself. Yet beneath the arrogance is a true devotion to the Oldfang cause, and a courage that few dare match. He is at once a relic and a roaring fire: outdated in some ways, but undeniable in presence.