Riders of Oakenfell

Historians have a long studied the origins of the dreaded 725th Brigade.

Coastal folktales whisper of an undead battalion that coalesces once per moon, riding from Oakenfell as jerkily as Hayden Christensen from "Jumper"--conjuring blinding lights with wanton recklessness, feasting on Chicago deep dish, and pissing off neighbours and gold-ranked pr0s indiscriminately.

Now, with the aid of recently-translated war diaries, anthropologists have managed to decode several of the group's labyrinthine rituals. Upon accepting their invitations, initiates mark themselves for battle by meditating on their CS:GO Game Settings, and branding the words "The 725th" onto their flesh using readymade "Group Tags." I don't ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ know, blame Steam.