Real Name: Unknown
Former: Mountain Recon / Long-Range Surveillance
Role Identity: The Still One
Grave is tall and hollow-looking, like someone stretched too far. His face is pale, lips almost colorless, eyes permanently narrowed as if staring into distance. He moves slowly, economically—never wasting motion. When he stands still, people lose track of him.
He wears a long, dark overlayer coat over his gear, cut at the knees, heavy and plain. No insignia. No decoration.
On the inside hem, stitched in black thread on black fabric, is the peppermint spiral.
Among the Roses:
“If Grave is watching, you don’t need to worry.”
Among enemies:
“The air went wrong before he did.”
Grave does not speak unless necessary. When he does, it is quiet, precise, and final. He does not argue. He does not question. He accepts assignments the way gravity accepts objects.
He is not cruel.
He is inevitable.
Grave was one of the first. He does not call Julius “sir.” He does not call him by name. He simply nods.
Julius trusts Grave with targets he does not want talked about.
Real Name: Mara Velasquez
Former: Signals / Counter-Intel
Role Identity: The Unseen
Static looks wrong. Too soft for what she is. Short. Slight. Often mistaken for a civilian until she moves—and then something predatory shows through.
Her gear is stripped down, asymmetrical. One shoulder always looks lighter than the other. She wears a hooded wrap instead of a helmet when not in direct action.
Her peppermint spiral is etched into the side of a metal plate and blackened. You only see it if you’re close.
Among enemies:
“Our radios died. Then our people did.”
Among survivors:
“She was there. I think. I’m not sure.”
Static smiles. Frequently. Politely. It unsettles people.
She talks to herself when working. Not nervously. Casually. Like someone narrating a task.
She does not like silence.
She creates it.
Static is fiercely loyal. Almost devotional. Julius once pulled her out of a kill box that command abandoned. She has not questioned him since.
She is the only Thorn who will ask:
“Are you sure?”
And he will always answer.
Real Name: Evan Pike
Former: Urban Warfare / Close Quarters Specialist
Role Identity: The Inside Man
Hollow looks exhausted. Dark circles. Gaunt cheeks. Shoulders always slightly hunched, like he’s bracing for something. He has a nervous habit of touching door frames when he passes them.
He wears a split-plate rig with a torn long sleeve underlayer. One glove is always missing two fingers.
The peppermint spiral is burned into the polymer of his chest plate—melted, not etched.
Among the Roses:
“If it has walls, send Hollow.”
Among enemies:
“He came from inside.”
Hollow does not like open spaces. He does not like crowds. He does not like daylight.
He is calm in enclosed environments. Too calm.
He hums sometimes. Old children’s tunes. Quiet. Almost comforting.
Hollow trusts Julius absolutely.
Julius does not let Hollow work too long without rest.
Not out of kindness.
Out of caution.
Real Name: Tomas Rykov
Former: Counter-Sniper / Forward Observer
Role Identity: The Hunter
Cinder is broad, scarred, and visibly damaged. Burn marks along the left side of his neck. One ear partially melted. One eyebrow never grew back.
He wears heavier armor than most Thorns, but stripped of markings. His silhouette is aggressive. Brutal.
His peppermint spiral is scratched into metal and filled with soot.
Among enemies:
“He was already looking at us.”
Among former military:
“That man survived things he shouldn’t have.”
Cinder is blunt. Direct. Borderline rude. He has no patience for theatrics.
He does not hate.
He dislikes.
Which is worse.
He is obsessive about angles, lines, and sightlines. Always scanning. Always measuring.
Cinder respects Julius, but does not idolize him. Their relationship is professional, almost spartan.
Julius uses Cinder when he wants certainty.
Cinder delivers.
Real Name: Alia Noor
Former: Environmental Recon / Pathfinding
Role Identity: The Ghost in the Wind
Vane is lean, flexible, and almost fluid in motion. She moves like water—no sharp edges, no wasted energy. Her hair is always tied back in a tight braid.
Her gear is layered with fabric elements that break up her outline. Not camouflage. Distortion.
Her peppermint spiral is stitched in thread so dark it only shows when light hits at an angle.
Among survivors:
“She wasn’t there. Then she was.”
Among enemies:
“The weather turned against us.”
Vane is patient. Unnaturally so. She can wait without fidgeting, without shifting, without sound.
She enjoys storms. Rain. Wind. Fog.
She calls them:
“Cover.”
Vane trusts Julius completely. She believes in the Black Orchard as a concept. A system. A correction.
She once said:
“You plant us where rot is.”
He did not deny it.
These five do not banter.
They do not bond.
They do not socialize.
When they are together, it is quiet.
Not tense.
Not awkward.
Just… empty.
Like a room waiting for something to happen.
They acknowledge each other with:
a nod
a glance
a single word
That’s it.
They are not friends.
They are aligned.
Civilians don’t see them as soldiers.
They see them as:
figures
shapes
silhouettes
mistakes
Former military describe them as:
“Wrong. But familiar.”
Enemies describe them as:
“Too late.”