Board: /qst/
"/qst/ - Quests" is 4chan's imageboard for grinding XP.
This board is for author-driven collaborative storytelling (i.e., "Quests"). In a quest there is a single author who controls the plot of the story and who drives the creative process. They can choose to take suggestions from other posters, or not, at their sole discretion. Quests can be text-based, image-based, or a combination of the two. Drawfaggotry is strongly encouraged!
To facilitate the author-driven nature of quests, /qst/ differs significantly from other boards in that the OP of a thread is considered the quest's author, and has some basic text formatting abilities: [b], [i], and color tags [red], [green], and [blue]. Therefore, only those people willing to put in the effort to be a quest author should post threads. If you do not intend to run a collaborative story, do not post a thread here! This includes meta-threads.
Dice rolling follows /tg/'s format (e.g., "dice+2d6" without the quotes in the options field rolls 2d6). Hi /qst/, want to solve a mystery together? I'll be running the first case of the board game Sherlock Holmes: Consulting Detective here on 4chan.
>Courtney Allen, the president of a prominent gun manufactory, was found shot to death behind the alley of his office on March 9, 1888.
>you will play the role of Wiggins, young apprentice to Sherlock Holmes
>as his long-time errand boy and sometimes-spy, it's now YOUR turn to step up to the plate to solve the mystery!
At your disposal are:
>a map of 1888 London
>the day's newspaper, which may contain important clues (or not!)
>the London directory
Intro in next post, followed by the rules of the game: 
The Nation of Ferrovia has fractured with the death of king Harold with three successor states and a bandit kingdom now fighting over the nation's future. King Elric, the king's brother backed by the landed nobility of the country, wages war in hopes of holding up the monarchy and by connection with the landed gentry. As he styles himself now Lord protector Baric attempts to halt the Monarchists and reformists from harming the status quo with the backing of the army his force is small but well trained and armed. The last of the main contenders is Queen Meredith the sole child of King Harold and devout reformist backed by merchants democrats and communists alike she must lead this dispraite force to victory.
You are Sir Edmund ”The Crow” Drayton, a recently Knighted Yeoman, the leader of the small monarchist sub faction of the reformists. In a feat of tactical and somewhat suicidal ambition youve defeated and captured Prince Elric the leader of the monarchists defeating them wholesale. Afterwards some time is spent in the Wartime capital of Nevefar finding the potential reason for an earlier coup attempt. The last few weeks have seen you fighting in the mountains of Kresh before finally subduing the Kresh bandits and moving toward the frontline.
Past Threads: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=BrinkQM
The morning of july 12th 1285
The day is already starting to heat up as the sun comes up lightning the flat plains of southern Ferrovia. Your men are already loading up and preparing for a day that will spent undoubtedly fighting their fellow country men. Your western flank ends in the sea while your Eastern flank is covered by Norton and his new found horde of former criminals. Due to the situation on the northern front you will have no reinforcements or replacements for some time. How would you like to push the enemy line?
>slow and cautious
>fast and Brutal 
You arrive in Elder Hollow under the weight of an overcast sky, the chill of early autumn clinging to the folds of your coat. The narrow road that led you here vanishes behind as the village reveals itself, quaint cottages and ivy-clad walls whispering of an England long forgotten. As an outsider from London, your arrival is met with curious, if not wary, glances from the locals who linger by the road, their eyes shadowed beneath the brim of worn hats. You sense their scrutiny like the touch of cold fingers down your spine. This place, with its thatched roofs and silent, watchful inhabitants, clings fiercely to its old ways, and as the village elder approaches with a guarded smile, you can’t help but wonder what secrets are sown into the fertile soil of Elder Hollow.
>Choose backstory:
>Thomas Harrow, a 30-year-old horror novelist seeking solitude and inspiration in Elder Hollow after the tragic death of his wife.
>Jamie Carter, a 15-year-old boy whose family has relocated to Elder Hollow in search of a simpler life away from the city's bustle.
>Daniel and Elizabeth Greene, both 25, newlyweds eager to plant their roots in the rustic grounds of Elder Hollow, far from their urban pasts.
>Ethan Frye, a 50-year-old priest sent to Elder Hollow to reestablish a long-dormant parish in a rural community that holds deeply pagan traditions.
>Henry Mallory, a 45-year-old retired police detective, relocates to Elder Hollow seeking a quiet retirement after a disturbing case.
>Write In 
You're Princess Eliana of the Kingdom of Brithnia. You lived a happy and peaceful life with your parents in the Brithnian palace until the day the kingsom fell to the forces of the evil witch Sinistira. You escaped the palace disguised as a commoner.
You began searching for the chosen one, the hero prophesied to defeat the witch and save the kingdom. But the forces of the witch are looking for you. You need to move in disguise.
You disguise yourself as the masked mercenary - Blade. Sinistira's agents will be searching for a Brithnian princess not a masked mercenary from the east. This disguise lets you move through the kingdom and search for the chosen one without being captured.
"The chosen one will find the sword of heroes and wield it to free the kingdom from the servants of evil. Then he will reign as the once and future king" the great wizard Kindalor the white made the prophecy before he disappeared twenty years ago.
"Where will I find this hero?" Your father had asked but there was no answer. Now it's up to you to find the chosen one.
As the legend foretells, the chosen one will wield the sword of heroes, marking him as a master swordsman. In this age, most great swordsmen make their living as adventurers.
"That's where I will start," you resolve to look for him in the adventurer's guild.
Upon your arrival, you introduce yourself as Blade - a mysterious masked mercenary.
The adventurer's guild has no shortage of colorful characters, many of them with their own secret identities, making you blend seamlessly into the crowd.
As you observe the throng of adventurers, your mind races, analyzing each one's potential to be the prophesied savior. "Could one of these adventurers be the chosen one?" you wonder, your gaze sharp and calculating, searching for your kingdom's only hope.
Prince Galiant - the proud second son of the petty kingdom of Phule catches your eye.
He most resembles the sort of heroic princes you grew up hearing tales of. He stands tall and confident. His blonde hair is styled impeccably, framing a face that seems sculpted by the finest artists. His eyes, a striking shade of blue, captivate all who meet his gaze.
His skin is clear and fair. A strong jawline, coupled with a well-defined cheekbone structure, accentuates his masculine features. His attire is nothing short of regal, meticulously tailored, and made from the finest fabrics, accentuating his physique.
"My brother, being the eldest, inherited the throne, so I set out to carve my own legacy," he confides in you after you share a drink. 
The Eldar are quite fond of their webway travel. What scattered and barely readable records you have left indicate that mankind had been envious of such capability, to such an extent in fact, that the only reason why you could find this information is due to it being present in your own system. One of the reasons of your construction had been due to humanity’s endless drive and ambition of improvement. Only your masters could look at a webway network and think to themselves that they can do better. Unfortunately, it is not the time to espouse the greatness of your masters. The orks are coming.
In the mean time however, you must begin means of dealing with the Eldar. The first thing that had come to mind were specialized drones capable of detecting warp quakes, even the most minute ones, since the webway relies upon warp travel at least to a certain extent, it cannot be completely hidden. However, you know for a fact that you will need at the least tens of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of such drones to locate the minute quakes that may or may not appear, you do not possess a truly deep comprehension of Eldar technology, so you will simply have to brute force your way through this.
As for other options, you had considered unleashing and endless swarm of nanomachines, but the needed quantity is vastly greater than the bots, and even those will take too long to produce, Eldar of this era seem to be particularly fond of flimsy, but agile style of fighting, preferring to deliver a punch before one can be given back to them. And you shall show them why your masters’ jaws evolved to take punches.
Then you still possess rather esoteric psyker technology that you still have no idea how it functions, even though you had clearly gone over its basic functions. Employing these weapons while not knowing their effects, especially against a race naturally gifted in psychic powers is just hoping for a disaster. Maybe it will cause the Eldar to spontaneously explode, or maybe it will super power them and allow them to commence “foul acts of sorcery”. As some of your imperial records would put it. As such, you will (despite your own curiosity) not be employing this equipment.
Lastly, you had the thought to refit the investigation drones with dedicated anti-sniping equipment, however, the reiterations you would need to undertake to modify the drones in such a way would take time, it would take time to refit or simply make new drones, yet again, you run into the issue of time, if you had time, you could do it. As such, rather than split your attention, it would be far more effective if you simply concentrate on a single solution. 
You are Noel Tiberius di Hazaran, warrior-queen of the highland nation whose name you share and former single-digit monster slayer of the nameless Organization which now threatens your homeland from the north.
At the moment you and a team of three of your close companions are in Sakia, your northern neighbor, with a contingent of Hazari soldiers. With their help you’ve created a foothold within the port town that the Organization’s military arm initially seized in their invasion – a foothold within a foothold. After sending a message to all the enemy forces scattered about in and around the town, your team quickly responded when one unit started shooting at each other.
You gather there’s been a tension building there, between two distinct groups of soldiers with different goals in mind and reasons for being here. The first of these are predominantly officers, and a small number of “true believers” in the Organization’s goals. Drawn heavily from the more wealthy families on the continent, many of the officers are career-minded and results-focused. They’ve found some support in a number of other soldiers who are here because they either genuinely hate the ‘Dragon-kin’ of the far-off continent, or else believe in the goal of rekindling the war between those beings (which you have yet to meet or see any direct evidence for) and humanity.
On the other hand you have a group comprised mostly of enlistees and lower-ranked officers, who joined this effort to escape poverty or to learn technical skills (to escape poverty) – and definitely not to start a war against silver-eyes witches like yourself, or to die in what to them must seem to be the middle of nowhere.
…
After leaving the aftermath of the fight you broke up to Valentina, you manage to sleep about ten minutes before Serana gently rouses you.
“What is it?”
[Listen.]
You shut your mouth and do as Serana insists, and you can hear the rapid cracks of an exchange of gunfire in the distance – in multiple directions. The trouble is that it’s coming from multiple directions.
“Do you think that’s multiple units having their own mutinies?” you guess.
She nods. [Only explanation.]
>1/2 Long ago, the Zahvenat archipelago, more commonly known as the "Butterfly Isles" was a peaceful place, governed by the Myskshen Empire that lords over the continent.
200 years ago, an incident in the great city of Kuthgirt caused the Isles to hurl not just themselves, but the whole Empire into a seemingly endless civil war.
Now that peace has returned to the Empire, only the Isles remain fractured, and are seeing the rise of great men capable of reuniting them. At the same time, an Imperial Reclamation Force has been dispatched to bring the Isles and their inhabitants back into the fold.
Will they succeed in doing so? will the Isles retain their newfound independence? or will it cause the Empire to fall for good?
The stage is set for the bloodiest chapter of the Butterfly Wars After getting splatted onto the ground from a random teleport, you, aka fred, somehow got the doxx to the guy who made a comment about you being less then human, this indivual is negrofred!!! Now you must go get em and kill em!!
What will you, the totally rightous and not ego hurt retard will you do to get revenge! And or get to his house without dying from aids The Wheel has turned. Chaos Reigns. The Pantokrator, the All-Mighty, has left this plane. The Thrones of Ascension lay empty, and the eternal prisons of ancient monsters and false-gods alike weaken. Powers from beyond this plane reach into creation, and pieces of reality reach into the void.
The time has come for war across every realm: And YOU are one of the players of this great game. Whether to help the common man, desire to complete some grand design, or base greed, you seek to conquer this reality and become the sole God of this world. As of now you're merely a pretender to the throne, but with power comes legitimacy, and you are powerful indeed.
But one standing alone cannot conquer the world; to this end, you have come to rule and be worshiped by a people, whether as a mere means to an end or as your beloved flock, you must lead them to victory, or be swept aside by the great powers that will be. 
“...This was not where your story was supposed to end.”
Cold. The kind of frigidness that steals one’s will, one that lulls you into a peaceful slumber from which you never come back. You attempt to feel your limbs to no avail, only feeling what could only be described as “smoke-like traces” of what were once your extremities. The only thing that broke the darkness you were surrounded in was some kind of machine, massive in size, connected to several terminals all blinking the same, mute static. Silver with lines of gray breaking the monotony, with a particular red strip denoting its “eyes”, if ever such machinery required something like that. Its geometrical, arrow-like shape made its design almost angelical, yet the voice that came from it clashed with whatever preconception you had of this thing.
“...Son of man, the path that was forged for you does not need to end here.”
“Your flesh has long since abandoned you, but your will remains anchored in this realm.”
“I can craft new flesh for you, one that will suit and reflect your soul’s most inner desires,”
“As well as deepest of turmoils.”
“I’ve witnessed what you once were…”
> [I remember spending my days locked in the library, pursuing fiction and science magazines in my free time.]
>[I worked all year round, in all sorts of things. After leaving my shift I usually spent the rest of my days fixing what was broken. ]
>[I worked at my family’s farm, living a rural life and enjoying what nature provided me and my family.] 
You uncomfortably shift the tie around your neck, the tightness of it is ever greater as it feels like it suffocates you. It is an odd sensation seeing as how you had continuously loosened it up. Still, no one could blame you for your nervousness, after all, the opportunity before you is a rare one indeed, and one that would see many a man drenched in their own cold sweat. Your own wet back makes you think whether or not your actions so far were truly wise or not. After all, every single fraction of your wealth had been expended upon this.
As you walk down the plain grey corridor illuminated by bright white lights, you reach a window, and through it you see your investment. The “Outwards bound”, an older class colonization ship capable of housing a few thousand people and years’ worth of various supplies. The distant stars are quickly swallowed up by the planet coming into view, a jewel in its own right. From all the way up here, you can see how many lights are illuminating the night, how many millions, if not billions live upon the planet. Perhaps you will never witness such a sight yourself of your own world…your own, just that thought brings a smile to your face.
“Sir ?” A young woman’s voice draws your attention. “They are waiting for you, sir.” She smiles at you having clearly arrived to hurry your pace. A pretty enough young woman, though judging by her looks, clearly lacking any visible cybernetics or genemods.
You simply nod and turn to walk ahead. The meeting you are about to attend, never had you felt so much dread, so much fear having to face…
>The Royal Expansion and Colonization Service. It is a rarity for the R.E.C.S. to even consider granting the rights for expansion, much less actually granting them, truly, this is probably a once in a decade opportunity, if you are being optimistic.
+ Official part of the Unbroken Empire
Being officially sanctioned by the Empire means that you can expect protection from the navy and the army. Should great disasters occur within the colony, chances are that nearby systems will send you aid. Establishing trade relations between imperial systems will also be that much easier.
- Official part of the Unbroken Empire
Being officially sanctioned by the Empire also means that most likely your colony shall be subservient to whatever random noble gets granted the rights to your world. It also means that you will be expected to pay your share of taxes and provide your share of manpower and material in cases of war. Not to mention, the politics of the Empire, more specifically the commanding noble, shall have a direct influence upon you in terms of control and regulations. Atop of that, any frontier states and statelets will view you as nothing more than a further extension of the “Tyrants’ reach”. 
The Goblin Wastes. A forsaken land where the sun hangs low and oppressive, painting the sky in gradients of molten gold and fiery crimson. A parched and desolate region, with its earth a mosaic of cracked earth and shifting sands, punctuated by stubborn tufts of scrub-brush that cling to life with a tenacity born of defiance. Jagged outcroppings of rock jut skyward like the broken teeth of some long-dead colossus, casting slender shadows that offer scant refuge from the elements, by day or by night. A land where life is a constant battle, where the echoes of a thousand forgotten conflicts whisper through the arid air.
Including yours.
Your name is Ezreal Mious van Houtzmann. You are many things: a half-elf born of the Sylvan Realms, a Mage of the Hawksong Mages’ Tower and personal apprentice to Archmage Theresa Henzler. You are the founder and keeper of the royal land reserve at Old Maple Hill, in your capacity as a possibly-apostate Disciple of the True Fey. In service of your mother’s folk and your father’s, and for the sake of your own ideals of a peace between peoples, you found yourself embroiled in politics of gods and kings. You prevented a war, but at great cost: you became an enemy of your homeland, outcast, and incurred a debt to the dreadfully-unpleasant fey of the Unseelie Court.
To seek out knowledge which would allow you to make good upon this debt, you sought the sacred knowledge of your cousins, the Neme (or Ashurati) ‘sand-elves’. These genasi-folk keep a covenant with a court elemental fey ‘djinni’, and have shared that knowledge with you in the past. When you arrived, though, you found their sacred place forsaken, save for a band of goblinoid bandits and slavers…
And you destroyed them. Killed them with lightning. Sicced your demon-goblin creation—Carazzi—upon them, to rip and tear their flesh and feast upon their fear. You liberated their slaves, tore down their perverse and wicked ‘goblin market’, and took some of their number prisoner before banishing them into the wasteland when supplies grey scarce. All this carnage in turn attracted ravening trolls, who nearly brought ruin and death to you, your friends and freedmen.
You killed them, too.
With more lightning, with fire, with the horns of your new minotaur companion and your beloved chimera Muffins. Their blackish-red blood seeps into the cracked earth. The stench of their death permeates the air. Their greenish flesh is opened up to the circling vultures above, and their yellowish eyes stare, unseeing, at the horizons of this awful, awful place.
You did that. 
Last time, you did unforgettable things inside a hotel... Like turning Carol into a ball, the ball you’re carrying home. You technically didn’t, the others did, but you’re complicit, a monster who turns a blind eye to people being turned into circular beings of backpack-like proportions. What would anyone who respects you think if they saw you now? Better not to think about it and instead look ahead to what this day has to offer! You’re visiting Carol’s family!
The only downside is that you’re still a little tired. Not that it will affect you in any way. You’ve been told you act somewhat odd when you’re exhausted, but that’s all lies at this point; yesterday, you did a lot of things that you would’ve done even if you were at your best.
You have no idea why you’re talking about this like you aren’t outside. It is a fairly conventional and cozy two story house, with a well-maintained garden and welcoming vibe. The entire neighborhood is like that, everything from stores to transportation is at a walk-able distance, greenery everywhere you look, well maintained public spaces. It’s just a nice part of town, and it has a dinosaur motif for some reason. Maybe a museum is nearby?
“Hey, Carol Ball, we’re here.” You wake up the tired idol. She slept through most of it.
“...What did you call me?” Carol snaps out of her tired state rather quickly due to your comment.
“We’re not having this conversation again.” You refuse to get entangled in a meaningless discussion.
“Sure…” Carol doesn’t care for petty conversations either. “Place me by the door, and ring the bell. Then leave. Bye-bye!”
She wants you out of the equation.
What do you do?
>“After a cup of coffee.” You’ll spend time with her family. That’s why you are here.
>“Let me say hi at least…” Hash it out so Carol doesn’t get that upset.
>“Sure.” Kick the ball, then press the button. You’ll leave if no one pays attention to you.
>Write In. 
Salutations noble sirs and fair ladies, the time has passed and spring came since the last update of our adventures but I finally came back on my white destrier. We will continue to follow the adventures of our brave Charles de Villeroi, a noble frenchman of the late XIIIth century transported by foul magic or God's will into the kingdom of Bifuria who is obviously in India as the presence of dragons and many gods can attest. The last time you learned that a Guelph had to be your new baron and you were visiting the garden of the castle of Pleasantville, castle of Count Careless the liege lord of your liege lord, with his second son, Isnott Careless, a strange young man who read books instead of waging war and your lovely Lady Rose Takable, your fiancée.
For those of our bannermen who spent too much time carousing and tourneying for following our adventures I shall give you the links to the first threads. They will see how our right and proper feudal society is growing in India with the help of God almighty and the swords and axes of the frankish chivalry.
>>https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2022/5085315/ thread 1
>>https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2022/5134375/ thread 2
>>https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2022/5194246/ thread 3
>>https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2022/5314154/ thread 4
>>https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2022/5422744/ thread 5
>>https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2022/5422744/ thread 6
>>https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2023/5561322/ thread 7
>>https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2023/5561322/ thread 8
>>https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2023/5702984/ thread 9
>>https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2023/5785267/ thread 10
>>https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2024/5920163/ thread 11
As per custom, since customs are everything, we shall begin with a small prologue who, contrary to custom will be not at the same time as your adventures but several days before. Since, if you remember, you sent the beautiful and zealous Elana, the assassin girl that tried to kill you but converted to the True Faith after a miracle, and the far less zealous and beautiful but more crafty Ancel le Purineur, your experienced scout and tracker, to free Bohémond, your knight, your guardsmen, and the handmaiden of Lady Takable from the clutches of the troops still loyal to the old baron at someplace.
I wanted originally to write the prologue with the point of view of Ancel but after some thoughts I decided that doing it from the point of view of Elana would be more amusing.
But enough words, let us enjoy our adventure ! 
Rabbi Jabob Shmuley Boteach is a member of the Chosen People, which means he can do whatever he wants. And what he wants is to torture and murder goyim children in the secret tunnels under New York City. His tribe has been doing this for centuries - William of Norwich, Little Saint Hugh of Lincoln, and Simon of Trent are merely a few names that the goyim are aware of. The rabbi remembers his tribesman, Leo Frank, who had raped and murdered a 14-year-old white girl named Mary Phagan. The goyim lynched him for it so the tribe created the "Anti-Defamation League" with the sole purpose of defending the Chosen People from such prosecution. "Never again!" The tribe has made it illegal for the goyim to blame them in any way - dismissing all accusations as antisemitism. "No one can stop us for we are the Chosen People!" The rabbi's laughter echoes through the sewers but suddenly he hears his guards screaming death screams. A tall, blond-haired, blue-eyed Aryan man has broken into the secret tunnels! Who is mad enough to challenge the Chosen People? "No! It can't be!! You were killed in 1945!!!" The rabbi cowers in terror like a rat when recognizes the sacred symbol on the man's chest.
>> Your tribe tried, yid, but I lived!
>> And yet the white man marches on!
>> The night is the darkest before the dawn!
>> Write-in 
You are Uzumaki Shiki, a jōnin from the hidden village Amegakure on indefinite loan to your larger ally Konohagakure, Currently you’ve been assigned to protect Kae-hime, the princess of a nation friendly to both your homeland and to Konoha, while her father sorts out an apparent problem within the ranks of his own government. Probably some disgruntled ministerial-type who thinks his career would progress faster if he just kills a bunch of people so he can promote himself to what he thinks his appropriate station is.
Anyway.
Hana-sensei, the teacher in charge of Kae-hime’s class during her stay at the Academy here in Konohagakure, seems like an awkward but well-versed and well-meaning woman to you. She gives you a strong impression that there’s not a mean bone in her body, which is nice. It’s easy to relax around people like that.
Throughout her subsequent lesson, you’re able to chat with Sumirin as she watches through the classroom windows from a nearby building.
[How did you do it?] you ask with a slight frown on your face – you don’t really need to listen to the lesson, since you basically mastered all this information before coming to the Academy the first time. All you really need to do is make sure you’re not so distracted that you can’t answer a surprise question.
“Seventeen degrees,” you answer when prompted by a question involving practical mathematics.
“Correct,” Hana-sensei replies. “Good job, Shiki-kun.”
[Do what?] Sumirin replies.
[Disguise your ability so thoroughly,] you clarify. [Back in the day.]
She did manage to hide the fact that she was basically an ANBU-trained plant for several years, and you feel like you very nearly blew it on day one. [I didn’t, remember?]
True, you did suspect her.
[I wasn’t comfortable suspecting you.] And that’s the truth of it. You didn’t want to think that a classmate – a friend – could be capable of anything nefarious, so you rationalized everything you saw away.
[It works on adults and children alike,] she tells you. [To a certain extent. Just keep pretending and they’ll do most of the work for you.]
[Thanks, Sumirin.]
[Any time, Shikkun.]
>1/2 
Suial the Third saw his concubines as mere objects, mere decorations to flaunt his wealth, power, and influence—like furniture, used, broken, and replaced without a second thought. You are not like the old tyrant; you recognize the value of the women you've claimed from him.
This morning, you wake up beside Queen Jocasta, the old king's only legal wife and now his widow. Last night, you claimed the older woman for yourself, seizing yet another possession from the tyrant. Even in his death, your disdain for the man lingers, mixed with a perverse satisfaction in stripping him of all he cherished. Nearing forty, the queen is old enough to be your mother, yet your carnal desire for her only intensified in the face of this taboo last night.
As you dress, you reflect on your next moves. Unlike Suial, who treated his concubines as nothing more than playthings for his perverse pleasures, you see them as potential allies and advisors. Lana, the green-eyed concubine, first shared your bed after Suial's death, impressing you with her bravery and quick thinking. Jocasta, the queen, offers a strategic alliance with House Chion, the most formidable of the noble houses.
Then there is Inaja, the dusky-skinned concubine, whose insights have deepened your understanding of the kingdom's internal politics and religious traditions. Each of these women provides you with new tools to keep the kingdom united under your rule, leveraging their knowledge and influence to fortify your reign.
You ponder your next move, considering how best to utilize the tools at your disposal to stabilize and strengthen your control over the kingdom. To secure your rule, you consider meeting with the palace’s guard commander to gauge his loyalty and reinforce your defenses. The ancient right of conquest brought you here, but what stops another from claiming the throne the same way? You also think about visiting the dungeons and torture chambers where Suial imprisoned and tortured those who spoke against him. Understanding how the old tyrant held onto power might help you keep the throne. You also consider learning more about the boys he kept as catamites for his perverse pleasures.
Perhaps a discussion with Queen Jocasta about solidifying the alliance with her house could be beneficial. Consulting with Lana on security matters, or with Inaja on political strategies could also be wise. Alternatively, engaging with another concubine or a courtier about the impending grand gladiatorial tournament might reveal more about the kingdom’s morale and loyalties. Today is filled with potential: for alliances, for reforms, for strengthening your new rule.
> You arrange a meeting with the palace’s guard commander to assess his loyalty and review the security measures.
> You explore the dungeons and torture chambers to understand the dark legacy of the old tyrant and to plan reforms.
> You take a moment to relax and clear your mind with a long, contemplative bath, joined by the queen or a concubine. 
With the Supreme Kai of Time Chronoa dethroned, the Demon God Dumplin beaten, and Karn's whole family now able to live in his timeline, things have been looking up for the Saiyan General. But all good things can't last forever. And when conflicts arise between deities, mortals are inevitably caught in the crossfire. Does Karn, the Berserker God possess the strength to protect his family, people, world and reality from their fickle nature? Or are the beings above mortal ken also beyond mortal reproach? This outcome may be up to you.
You the players control Karn, wielder of the mighty Berserker Soul. Granting him the power to fight against gods and other divine beings, to resist their influence and strengths. From his lowly beginnings as a Saiyan Brawler with a sub-3000 powerlevel in Age 733, only a few years into his time as a member of the PTO, he has now become the strongest Saiyan of his time. With the power of the Berserker God, combined with That Which Should Not Be and having devoured a soul born of the Abyss itself, his strength is now unlike anything before seen in his reality. But will this newfound strength be enough to overcome the threats headed his way? Only time will tell, your choices can spell the difference between success and failure.
Character sheets and other info:
https://controlc.com/46ec566d
https://pastebin.com/u/GrandDragonQM
Archive:
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=Saiyan+Conqueror+Quest
Help fund quest art commissions and get exclusive side stories as well as artwork here: https://www.patreon.com/GrandDragonQM
Quest rules are as follows(unless otherwise noted):
>30 minute vote times
>Pick ONLY ONE option when voting
>Dice rolls are all best of first three correctly-rolled dice
>One dice roll per person per post unless three players have not yet rolled, and ten minutes has passed since your previous roll
>Crits are 100 on a d100(a 99 or paired rolls may net you an extra bonus)
>Crit fails are a 1/100 with no passing rolls, or if two 1s are rolled regardless of the third
>Write-ins are both allowed and encouraged, but OOC options will be ignored
>If your goal is simply to troll, at least put in enough effort to make it funny
>Have fun
SCQ will usually start on Saturdays at noon Eastern Standard Time, and run throughout the weekend. Also, for updates or schedule changes you can find me on twitter @GrandDragonQM, which I keep as up to date with any scheduling changes as soon as possible.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8EAhFZQWCr8
THE FICKLE GODS You are a FUCKING MAJESTIC HORSE. Welcome to Horsequest 3. 
The Galaxy is in flames.
The Emperor's glorious vision for humanity is in ruins. His favoured son, Horus, has turned from his father's light and embraced Chaos.
Brother turns against brother, sons against their father. Full half of The Emperor's mighty legions have betrayed him, dealing a mortal blow to 3 of his loyal legions on Istvaan V. War has begun, a conflict that will engulf mankind in fire. Treachery and betrayal have usurped honour and nobility. Assassins lurk in every shadow. Armies are gathering. All must choose a side or die.
Elsewhere, the daggers are being drawn. Sanguinius and his Blood Angels fight for their life against monstrous Things from nightmare, while Roboute Guilliman sits confident in his realm of Ultramar, awaiting the arrival of his brother Lorgar yet unaware of the dagger pointed at his back.
On Prospero things are different. The hand of Leman Russ has been stayed, temporarily, while Constantin Valdor and you, Alpharius, a captain of the Alpha Legion disguised as the Raven Guard, deal with Magnus. You have entered his inner sanctum in secret, and spoken with the Red King, in an attempt to save him and his legion.
Even as Prospero waits with bated breath, the ruinous powers exert their influence, and the galaxy trembles. To meddle with Fate is to court ruin. But Hope has not yet died, and there may still be a chance, or is it just an illusion?
The screams of the innocent, the pleas of the righteous resound to the cruel laughter of Dark Gods. Suffering and damnation await should the Emperor fail and the war be lost.
The age of knowledge and enlightenment has ended.
The Age of Darkness has begun. 
A world where might makes right. A world of Jade and Gold, of Phoenix and Dragons, of Pills and Talismans, of Martial and Spiritual arts.
A world where diligent training yield strength, meaning freedom. A world where loneliness means death, meaning social chains.
A world still unfair, as the ones reaching the heavens are most likely born rich - be it political riches of the aristocrats, power of secret knowledges and hidden realms of clans, or lucky enough to be born one-in-a-thousand genius.
This is not the case of Quiet Word - that is, (You). This is the case of your friends Dhundan Kepa, the brooding dark intimidating and secretive young boy and Ai, which is stuck too deep in her inner world.
Alright, the assertion in the case of Quiet Word might be a bit challenge with recent development.
However, you might be one-in-a-hundred genius. The fear of falling behind made you push your boundaries times and times again, leading you to overtake from a slim margin the two geniuses by a combination of luck, hard work, and burn out.
You also motivated the other "gifted but not great" kids - the monkey-bound Yi Norm, the Horse specialist Sin Din and her twin jack-of-all-trade Man Din to follow along.
You have also fairly good relationship with other members of the sect : Kyo Ko, a 11 year old girl extremely secretive of her skills and Bathias, a 15 year old boy that took the role of Hawk Master after the older one got promoted.
Last, Ryota, the Branch Master at the Inborn Realm (Fourth Stage), is personally tutoring you.
In the end, you know a fair amount of technic for such a young cultivator, but your strength lies in the impressive amount of Bonded Spiritual Beasts - A Hawk spirit, a Horse spirit, a Snake spirit and a Wolf spirit.
Speaking of that last one, you didn't told a world about him to anybody. As a scion of the Primordial Wolf spirit, its father warned you of its worth and how people could want to rip it away from you.
Said worth comes from its ability to Fuse without restriction - fusion being a secret of the higher ranking of your sect, secret you have almost completely rediscovered on your own. 
You're on a date, a surprisingly wonderful one, with a beautiful woman whose laughter is as melodious as the jazzy tunes drifting from the nearby café. She's 29, charming, and undeniably beautiful. As you share stories over coffee, the conversation takes a sudden, serious turn. She pauses, her eyes meeting yours with a seriousness you hadn't seen before. "When I was a teacher, I was arrested for inappropriate relations," she confesses in a quiet voice, her gaze steady and earnest. "I have since realized the weight of my actions and the violation of my position of power and trust as a teacher. I'm trying to reform and date men my age now. Will you help me, anon-kun?"
>[] I'm sorry, but I can't be comfortable dating someone who has violated her students in that way.
>[] Everyone deserves a chance to change; I'm willing to support you in your journey to reform.
>[] Wait, you said you used to be a middle-school teacher.... that's messed up!!
>[] It was an isolated incident, right? With just one student??
>[] Your courage in facing your past is commendable, and I respect your desire to change.
>[] You seem like a nice, trustworthy woman, and I would trust you to babysit my 12-year-old nephew any time.
>[] ____________ 
It is dark, this other place. It is neither material or immaterial. Not the rigid world of reality full of rules, fact, and truth. Nor the maddening contradictions of the empyrean, of swirling lies and emotion.
He moves through the dark, lacking true purpose, merely observing its lack of form. It is an age before the darkness slowly shifts, before a golden light begins to grow. Imperceptible at first it expands exponentially, growing to banish all but the faintest hints of darkness. A golden triumph… it lasts but a moment.
The dark begins to worm its way through the rays from the fringes, planting black seeds throughout the golden kingdom. With a sudden flash it explodes to the surface, and the world is split in twain, dark lashing at light. The war, for what else could such a confrontation be called, continues for a time, gold slowly withdrawing in face of the dark’s constant onslaught.
There are victories of course both major and minor. But they are temporary in the face of overwhelming darkness, and the light is forced back. The fronts of both begin concentrating, building to a crescendo where rays of light and dark tendrils reach truly cataclysmic size at the point where the light first grew.
Before the final battle can begin he is drawn away, as so often happens, by a meek voice just beyond his senses.
He sees the soft gloom of his chamber, lumens dimmed so that his eyes may rest without strain. The room is spartan in furnishing and construction, a common trait to his kind. He is laying on his bed, wearing a simple set of robes dyed in the color of his Legion.
The cause of his disturbance lies at the opposite end of the room, a metal vox grille over the exit of his abode. Only a slight hiss indicates its active nature, imperceptible to any mortal yet all too clear to an astartes.
Seconds later he hears what would be the second repetition of a serf at the other end of the apparatus.
“Lord Regent, an astropathic message has been received from the Nightfall. It requires your attention.”
The serf speaks clearly, and at an even pace. Yet her voice still wavers ever so slightly, the fear of addressing a legionary of the Eighth plainly evident.
He sits up slowly, and precisely depresses an acknowledgement stud on his wall mounted cogitator. With this the vox clicks silent, and the legionary thinks back to his dream, his vision.
What did it mean?
>It is an ill omen, he must be cautious going forth. The galaxy remains treacherous.
>It was meaningless, a collection of swirling colors and abstract ideas. Nothing changes.
>It is a lie. Born of apprehension and subconscious worries, humanity is ascendent, nothing lurks in the shadows. You're Mazela a proud transgender witch. Sadly you're forced to work as an unlicensed hedge witch because the principal of wogharts and notorious transphobe Jeker Owlings denied your application making the hurtful claim only ciswomen can be witches. You'll prove her wrong by being the best witch ever!
Your current goal is to
>acquire more psychic powers
>help as many people as you can
>defeat a terrible monster
>get a boyfriend
>get rich
>other 
Since previous thread diededed:
Welcome to Standard Fantasy Nation Builder. First, start with providing description of your future nation.
Fill this in:
>Name:
>Leader's name:
>Race(s):
>Color(for if/when I get a map):
>General location:(mountains, jungle, plains, ocean, lake, etc. More detailed the better I can make a map..maybe)
>Fluff about nation:
>Fluff about leader:
>General magic practises or other speciality (for a magic-related bonus, can be replaced with tech or situational bonus, too, so it doesn't have to be magic, but make it ONE)
Don't fill this in:
>Population: 10000
>Military:
>Power level: 1
>Tech Level: 1
>Bonus:
Keep it short, but more than just a single sentence. I won't read your novel, but I would still like to get some info on your nation.
I'll look through them and provide bonuses (and penalties) based on the description.
Rules:
https://pastebin.com/CLx5enYp
FAQ:
https://pastebin.com/3gmf1UHL
----
Not mine idea, stolen from good old times when we had builders still going. It's Easter, I've got loads of spare time and kind of bored.
Actual map will be provided once the game starts for real. I will probably set-up mibbit. Rules will likely to be changed as we play, since I've got only a partial recollection how this specific set worked. I already know I want to handle military differently and that I post in different hours than the original QM.
Either way - have fun and remember this is for kitchen sink setting, so don't take it too serious or pigeon-hole yourself into some muh realism faggotry.
PREVIOUSLY IN: >>5964714 Welcome to Cultural Civ, a civ game where your civilization's culture shifts with time !
players control a civilization through the years and decide its explorations, cultural and technological advancements, and diplomacy.
how to play:
1) choose a civ to play for. change your name to reflect your choice (ex: Chin Scratcher).
2)each turn, your civ has 2 actions. You can choose between cultural, technological, or a (freeform) special action, but you cannot do the same action twice in the same turn.
3)discuss with your compatriots which actions you will take. Once you're done, reply to my recap anchor post with the recap of your actions.
Five civilizations are recent arrivals on this island, each for their own reasons. Their future on this place is still ahead of them. Where will you lead them?
I will now list the civs. Feel free to join any of them at any time! 
Past Threads
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=Olympus+Incarnation+Quest
>Rentry masterlink, includes character sheets, shop information, inventory, and general information
https://rentry.org/olympus-quest-links
>Popularity Contest Round 2
https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1k-rC03K-K6zUXKf_PV9p1IA8WJeoItsSzgL7caC1XrI
A couple months ago, the world changed forever.
Individuals worldwide began manifesting the qualities of various figures- gods, spirits, heroes, beasts, and monsters- from Greek mythos. The system that caused and continues to facilitate this phenomenon is shrouded in mystery, both in how it functions and why it began its activities when it did.
The protagonist of this tale is the incarnation of Atë, a minor goddess in the grand scheme of Greek mythology, who causes and presides over folly and ruin. She, formerly a miserable but ultimately normal office worker, has since accepted her role as the embodiment of her <Myth>. She, along with her partner in crime, the incarnation of Pheme, titan of rumors and gossip, have been working to expand their influence and stack the deck in their favor against not only mortals, but also rival incarnations. In her own eyes, she is no longer human. Her ultimate goal- the elimination of all rival incarnations and, eventually, complete and total world domination.
Atë, preparing to face off against the more powerful incarnations that rule over their swathes of the world, finds herself at an auction of aspiring divinities, hoping to find allies, tools, servants, and abilities to sufficiently increase her divine might. 
They had arrived only a few hours earlier, with news that were barely a few days old, yet there was a hubbub in the palace, rumors were already abound. Many Fire Sages were, after all, nobles from the many aristocratic families of the Fire Nation, and they spread the news before it was officially relayed to the Fire Lord.
And it was their task to give him the news. Not an enviable one, as the news were dire for the Fire Nation. When they entered the Fire Lord’s palace room, they were met with silence, save for the roaring flames of Ozai’s throne.
He sat there, not facing them. They knew his fury, it was quiet now, but it could swallow them like a dragon at any time.
“My lord.” The eldest spoke, all three knelt.
“You bring me news.” Ozai said. “And hearing the filthy cowardice emanating from your voices, they are not good.”
“The statues of the Avatar Temple shone with great light two days ago.” The eldest heard his voice crack from fear. “That… that means…”
The flames of his throne blazed. Fury. Pure, unbridled fury. On that day, the eldest missed the times of Azulon the most. Ozai rose.
“The Avatar has returned.” He said as he turned around, a stare as cold as ice looked over his kneeling servants. “Who knows?”
“R-rumors abound, Fire Lord. And in the other Avatar Temples, the lights must’ve shone as well.”
Ozai grit his teeth. The whole world knew that the Avatar was back.
And the task of killing the Avatar now laid upon his children. You are damaskes, a pianist, and a niche internet musician! However you NEED to expand your musicial arsenal from edited DAW piano and vocals to edited DAW piano and vocals with a transistor home organ!!!!!
What vill your first course of action be(might not reply/draw for a hour) f 
In the vast expanse of the void, amidst the cold steel corridors of his transport vessel, the nameless soldier of Krieg stands sentinel, his form shrouded in the dim glow of flickering lumens. Around him, the rhythmic hum of machinery intermingles with the distant echoes of comrades preparing for the impending descent into the crucible of war. His eyes, devoid of fear or hesitation, reflect the unyielding resolve of a warrior bred for conflict.
As the ship hurtles through the void towards the besieged hive world of Haeloria Prime, the soldier finds solace in the familiar routines of war. With each passing moment, the anticipation builds, mingling with the ever-present dread that accompanies any campaign in the Emperor's name. Yet, amidst the clamor of preparation and the weight of his duty, the soldier remains steadfast, a silent guardian of the Imperium's righteous cause. For in the heart of darkness, amidst the howling void and the whispers of the warp, his unyielding loyalty shall be the beacon that guides him through the coming storm. 
BRIEF RECAP:
It all began with a small box located in the undercarriage of a boosted car, parked outside a warehouse with mob connections deeper than Gotham Bay, Officer Mark DeLucia; a fresh faced Rookie with the GCPD and a power of his own. Shivers allows Mark to communicate with Gotham City, sometimes he's shown seemingly random visions, or given fleeting scents and sensations typically as a warning. Instead of using this power to operate as a vigilante as many others have done he instead decided to join the Gotham City Police Department and use his ability in the open. Not hiding behind a mask or a secret identity he seeks to do whatever is in his power to make his city just a little bit better for the everyday person.
The first few months of the job have been hard, facing a plethora of woman troubles, home invasions, and more than a few attempts on his own life Mark has carved out a solid group within the department alongside his GCPD Mentor Mitch Hawthorne, the long-toothed detective Thomas 'Gray' Bennett, and former Army Captain turned cop: Luke Kimble. Those connections alongside The Question and Huntress vigilantes have been vital in Mark's mission to stop The SIM Killer, Mafioso Hit-Man who seems to possess his own Dark version of Shivers. Starting his investigation off-the-books Mark now finds himself at the tail end of a successful sting to strike at the Mob Families that employ SIM and back in the sights of Firebug, who seeks to kill current Mayor of Gotham: Harvey Dent and anyone who would protect him...
======
"You're wrong there, Kimble. The driver made the smart choice, he's perfectly fine, better than we found him even. You can't build your house on rotten timbers and expect it to stand forever. This is your last chance, all three of you. Walk away now and let me burn the debris, clear the way for your department to build Gotham back up again the right way."
You swallow hard and give a look to Banks, his eyes are fixed on Firebug but his breath is shallow and rapid while his eyes seem distant and unfocused. A delicate touch to his arm makes him jolt as he turns to face you.
"We aren't listening to this right?"
A voice over your shoulder replies.
"Maybe we should.."
You turn to Kimble who has his barrel now pointed slightly down. His eyes avoid yours.
"Kimble, are you serious?" You shout whisper as you lean in. He pulls away from you and refuses to meet your eyes.
"Think about it. He's gutting the department, putting us in dog and pony shows, he isn't a leader. Not to me. If it was Reiner, or Hawthorne, or Gordon in there I'd die before I let anything happen to them. But Dent..."
You grasp his shoulder and turn him to face you, in his eye you see the same glint he had when you were at Maroni's where he made the deal.
"Let's walk away...DeLucia." He says quietly, but his eyes raise to meet you as he finishes. "Let him go into the car if he wants, let's be done with this. That's an order." 
You are a mothman. You have a gun. As an Agent of the Company, you know exactly what must be done and are willing to do whatever it takes to complete the Mission. The City is calling. Glory and Terror await.
Last Thread: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2023/5776609/
===================================
In the City, in a split second, time changes. The anger inside goes away and you are finally able to see clearly now. Everything slows down.
You trace the slight shift of the RED Leader's revolver from you to the dying Captain in the murk of the tunnel. Second hands relinquish their wicked weapons now unwanted, scrabble for the BIG IRON at your hip, and instantaneously take aim.
BLAM!
The telltale power of the BREAKER BULLET violently twists your steady aim apart but oh it is glorious to behold. The entire storm drain is illuminated by the tremendous muzzle flash like the midnight sun and a bright white light devours everything. You see nothing, feel only the recoil.
You hate that.
Muscles move on their own, fire two more rounds into the blinding white before you are able to admire your handiwork.
The RED team Leader stands with his gun at his side and his beret at his feet. He remains still, so very still, staring at the ironbound ceiling of catwalk and grates above. You watch for what's coming and an innermost joy swells in your heart. Pulsing blue cracks are seared across his helmet like a shattered mirror - the telltale sign of a broken mind. There's a filtered hiss as the Leader doubles over and he broadcasts his choking screams as if he's drowning on his own two feet.
[CRUELTY]Yes... this is it. The feeling is coming back to you. The thrill of destruction!
+COMPOSURE
COMPOSURE: 2/3 (+1 max COMPOSURE from Night-Watch Mushroom Extract)
You take aim and prepare the last shot for the finish -
phUNKphUNKphUNKphUNK
- and throw yourself to the side as the RED Support charges from your flank and fires off a salvo from that damnable pneumatic rifle!
You respond in kind by hurriedly shooting the Leader square in the chest. He falls, but you know he's not dead yet. Twice damn that armor! Cracked yet still unshattered!?
"CAPTAIN!" Support screams in horror as he stops laying down his hail of suppressive fire. He freezes up but gets a hold of himself and motions to the Heavy. Braver than most mooks, certainly. "REDD UNIT, RETRACT AND GIVE US COVER."
The sluggish suit of power armor stomps towards the sound of his voice. Mindless, sluggish, hulking iron. An R Company unmanned unit, no doubt. Sending in a robot to do an Agent's job? Pathetic. 
they said I would have to Pastebin the lewd stuff but /ss/ is based and let the die be cast motherfuckers. Or we can skip it. If the majority of you want this safe for work that's cool. But will kind of miss the point of the harem stuff. This is like Ultra Sun and Moon in that it takes place in an alternate telling of the games...where in the timeline? Find out yourself!
>You are a 13 year old wannabe Pokemon Trainer. You've basically been ripping off shit you've seen online and on tv and you've been training Pokemon you've chanced by throughout your life till this point. Very close to your Pokemon bros. Not so much with your peers. But nonetheless. You haven't been able to go on a Pokemon journey as home and school obligations sadly prevented it thus far. Which is more common then you think. Pick your trainer type. This will determine, along with your region, what your starting team is. You can pick Pokemon common to your region but no psuedo, rare, legendary or starter Pokemon that doesn't fall into the 3 type specific Pokemon. If your Pokemon will gain the typing later in evolution you may choose it as a pick. For example you can pick Torchic as a Pokemon for Martial Autist's Fighting type slot. You can also pick two pokemon of the same type if they match the separate type slot. Aron for Steel and Geodude for Rock for Martial Autist. You can also pick from any region and can choose pseudos or rares if necessary for your type slot. No two same Pokemon. THIS INCLUDES EEVEE. ONE EEVEE LIMIT! NO LEGENDARIES AT ALL! Common mons are shit like Buneary, Growlithe, Zubat,
Bidoof and the like that are found in common areas and not super rare. Rare Pokemon are shit like Feebas, Togepi, and Dhelmise as well as Starters. And Psuedos are basically dragon types...At this point they are anyway...This uses anime logic so all Pokemon are kino picks anyway. You can pick
up to a first stage in evolutions. For example Ivysaur or Golbat or shit like Scizor or Gyarados...but what region ARE you from?
>First reponse will pick but in the future the post with the closest end digit to mine per post will pick when I get back. For now it's a hesitation is defeat situation since I don't know if this will even GET anon attention.
>And no you can't be an Alolan native moved out from there. Hi, can anyone help me solve a Russian riddle, here it is:
"What is in the hands of time, but has no beginning and no end?
Mighty and weak, but timeless in its wisdom.
The answer is hidden in infinity,
O fervent heart, bolder, find its holy place."
The answer could be encrypted and written in any of the languages, or it could be some kind of cipher in which the answer is numbers on the order of 1-2-3-4, etc.
But this is all just speculation, I need your help forchans. 
[MARS 21st, 1490, SUNDAY, MORNING//ELMYCION CASTLE CITY//THE EVE OF THE TOURNAMENT]
Elmycion, an already bustling province in the northeast of the Wymund regime. Set upon the path of pilgrims early on a long journey to holy lands in the east, near enough to the borderlands for its major city to serve as the hub of trade, and rich with history for the myriad lords of Wymund or other kingdoms that have besieged, ruled over, and died for the region.
Here, in and around the city that acts as the castle’s outer shell, a grand tournament is to be held. Organized by the kingdom of Wymund to celebrate the separatist knights who overcame the old empire and founded the illustrious kingdom, overseen by House Hayner, the current heritors of Elmycion’s beauty, it is a tournament of a different breed.
The spectacle is not to settle feuds between lords, or merely provide entertainment for commonfolk. It is said to be more of a reenactment. Mock battles, fought by royal and noble orders of Wymund and those invited from lands beyond. In the grand battle that took place here, knights of warring factions came to respect their equalized strength and resolve, and joined forces against corrupt kings and their levied armies. Historians speak wistfully of how a new social class was born, then and there. While commonfolk beam at the hyperbolic rumors of a dragon slain during the battle long ago…
Those knights realized they had a connection that could not be realized by language or race. Steel was their language. Honor was their blood. Could such an unspoken bond truly exist within the hearts of warriors…? 
Previous Threads: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=The%202nd%20Primarch%20Quest
_
You are the second primarch, Lieren of Nothing, Grand Architect of Long-jia and head of its ministry of development, great hunter of the wild and keeper of a forgotten method of bow stringing as well as a fragment of a greater plan yet, austere and much respected philosopher and creator of The Journey whose lessons and teachings have become widespread, Slayer of spirits and tyrants foul, Brother of great men by blood and oath, and soon to be groom of the ancient soul Kanzeon.
And presently, four brothers you had not been aware existed, belonging to a brotherhood known as the legio custodes, are scrutinizing you and putting you in their eyes, measuring your worth. For various reasons, each of the four has deep suspicions about you and have approached you rather rudely on this the day of your wedding and with just the first words exchanged between them and you, they have given you a test. A challenge of character and personality, knowing you abhor chaos, they mentioned the quality of your eyes one of those discordant powers granted you as well as the cursed brand atop your brow that even now thins the boundaries between this world and the wild realm of spirits and dreams. An attempt to rouse and fan the flames of your anger by injuring the pride of a humble man, though the venom in their voice is not an act and you would not need to golden sheen of your eyes to be aware of that.
"Fickle?" You ask, allowing a twinge of amusement to color your tone though not so much as to make your words sound impolite or offended, maintaining a veneer of property and courtesy despite the hostility electrifying the air between you and your gold clad elder brothers "No, efficient. Maybe a touch mischievous at times, but never fickle. I always have a goal in mind to pursue"
"And what is the current goal driving your forward, secondborn?" A different custodes, who accent differs but sounds familiar to your ears, he must have originated from an area close to Sheowl on Terra.
"And efficiency can be blinding, shortcuts and clearer paths can lead easily to disaster" another, with the intonation and airs of a highborn scion "Or doom"
"That depends, are we speaking long or short term. Of course I am prepared to rejoin our father's stellar reunification campaign, but there is much I must to do and am currently capable of doing here upon mist hidden Shangrala and just outside of its atmosphere, though I don't believe interplanar colonization projects count as short term" You continue warmly, openly sharing your plans before a traitorous smirk tugs at the corner of your lips despite your effort to maintain a relaxed and disarming expression "Though, then, long term could be considered finding a way to reduce the discordant powers and oust them entirely from the worlds of mankind, but that is...a distant thing, and one formed entirely of hope, I will admit"
Cont The world as you know it is gone, who knows why, but at least you had enough foresight to build this nifty bunker in your backyard.
For being such a genius survivalist you didn’t bring much, maybe you’re looking at things the wrong way.
What things (and or people) did you manage to bring down here with you? 
Death.
It is regarded as the ultimate arbitrator of the end. The finality in which what perishes, must begone and move from the bones of the Earth. All energy is lulled into cessation. All lively pangs meet their final beat. All throes of darkness take ahold.
You, however.. for reasons of either sorrow, regret, arrogance, spite or pure happenstance.. find yourself bereft of a deathly finality. From death itself, you will be "rebirthed" into a new existence beyond anything you could have possibly imagined in your living hours.
—————————————
In the early half of the 20th century, the entire world has been engulfed in the web-tangles of European spheres of influence or outright control. Under the screen of feigned cordiality for the sake of appearances, every major power in Europe is in fear of any pronounced movement from their rivals. Alliances form, and from them emerge two blocs poised for war: one being the Allied Powers composed of the British Empire, France, and Imperial Russia; the other deemed as the Central Powers, comprised of the German Empire, Austria-Hungarian Empire, and the ever-ailing Ottoman Empire.
All this came to a head, when in the 28th of June 1914, Archduke Franz Ferdinand, heir-presumptive to the Austro-Hungarian throne, was assassinated by the politically radicalized Serbian Gavrilo Princip. Immediately afterward sprung out the July crisis. By the end of that event, almost all of the major European powers were at war with one another.
The War to End all Wars had begun.
—————————————
What were you before the war started?
>Where were you born and on what year, day, and month were you conceived?
(being born below 1859 not allowed and being born above 1914 not allowed)
>What name were you given? Were you a boy or a girl?
>Who were your parents, if any at all? 
06 – 28 – 1999 | SOUTH SIAM | WEEK 1
Your last patient fidgets on the exam table, sun-weathered hands thumbing through a chain of jaap maala prayer beads with practiced dexterity. Her daughter watches you with eyes that are a measure too sharp for her age. Dark pupils scan across your face for traces of ill-intent – an instinct that has barely mellowed over their past few visits.
“Red. Skip days….and the blue, take daily?”
She runs her finger down the page as she translates for her mother – speaking in a south Asian language you cannot easily identify.
“Yes. Remember to finish the entire pack. Macrolide with a modified bacteriophage booster. Reds and blues.”
She nods.
“…her cough?” she asks.
You consider your answer carefully. “It’s a new strain, but she should still improve with time. If your mother isn’t doing better within a week, come back as soon as you can.”
“You will be here.” She phrases it as a statement more than a question, reaching into her bag to retrieve your usual payment.
You smile, accepting the proffered item.
“Of course. Where else would I go?”
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 
Daemon Blackfyre lies dead upon Redgrass field, together with two of his sons. With them, dies the first Blackfyre Rebellion. These are the days when peace once more returns to the seven kingdoms, the days when the brave and true fell in battle, and left behind the embittered and mournful.
King Daeron II 'The Good' Targaryen owes his victory over his half-brother to his two sons and another half-brother, together with two Valeman, one a knight of the kingsguard and the other the Lord of the Eyrie.
The seven kingdoms are as united as they'll ever be; Targaryen rule has been secured once more, and peace reigns throughout the land.
But not all is well; rebellious lords have had their lands stripped and hostages taken in an effort to maintain order and compliance.
Across the narrow sea, Aegor Bittersteel lurks with a growing army of exiles, including the remaining members of House Blackfyre. But for now, an uneasy, bitter peace hangs over the realm.
You are in mourning as well, for your lord father has fallen as well. Whether it was at Redgrass Field or some other battle, the histories would not remember. But it does leave you the lord of a minor house.
But where?
>In the Westerlands
>In the North
>In the Reach
>In the Vale
>In the Stormlands
>In Dorne
>In the Riverlands
>In the Crownlands
>In the Iron Islands 
You realize your life isn't real, and is somehow being affected by the votes of an unseen audience. Now, you need to escape. Your name is Oza and you have vague definitions about yourself. You're a 16-20something year old who has only ever known the life they live. You always felt somehow you had to go with other people's decisions to survive. It's Sunday, MOTHER'S DAY, and you're being reminded to call your mom despite what happened. While scrolling a forum online, you realize that the format of a story telling page exactly follows your method of action- wait until enough pressure pushes you a certain way. Now, you're too close to a truth you can't unsee. You spot a thread for a story game called "The New Unoriginal Quest" you click on it to read that it's exactly describing you and your current situation. What do you do.
>Watch it for a while, see how it affects you.
>Select one of the choices being presented.
>Write your own choice (expert difficulty-reality could fall apart)
>Call mom (end quest)
>Dismiss and start a thread about how it's weird humans are supposed to be superior but still need to brush their teeth when other animals don't. Beep. Slide. Bag.
Beep. Slide. Bag.
Beep. Slide. Bag.
“Ma’am. Ma’am.” Your eyes slowly drift up. The just past middle age woman jerks back as the full weight of your ‘two years of college debt and nothing to show for it’ dead stare drives into her. Alas, the just past middle age woman’s eyes do not begin to pour blood, and her face twists.
Beep. Slide. Bag.
You grunt, and the woman accepts that this might be the limit of your vocabulary.
“Ma’am. Miss. Those eggs. Those eggs were on sale, miss.”
Beep. Slide. Bag.
Your gaze, choked lifeless by customer service, sweeps over to the carton of eggs.
> Pick up the eggs. Move them back, then drop them.
> Pick up the eggs. Move them back. Smash them down.
> Pick up the eggs. Move them back. Charge her full price again. Don't remove the original charge. 
Dear diary,
Today was not that good of a day. It all started with my mom and her botched breakfast. Or her drink of choice, to be precise, as the dates and the wheat pancakes were fine... it was the milk again. She always stores it 'for later use', without telling, and I had to spend my whole day at school with a tummy ache. How can you mess up milk, mom? Again!?!? ... Anyway, I got so mad at her I started calling her Lupa because she doesn't like it (hehehe take that mom :p). She says that was her maiden name before dad kidnapped her to introduce new blood to our settlement... not sure what that was all about but whatever...
Soooo, now school!
The history class went terrible! The teacher wanted everyone attending to give a brief summary of their family history and Etruria, this pompous bitch >:( !!!, started to berate me how I didn't have culture of my own and I stole a dress idea from her last week! While it was my turn to speak! Well sorry that I don't have rich parents like yours to fund my degenerate lifestyle and nightly drunken escapades, I can't afford to throw up my food yet (willingly at least... MOM!!!). I am so mad at her enabler too... Samnitia-chat or whatever, she is the new kid on the block but just because she is a sun-beaten tomboy with a fetish for horses she gets to play cool with the popular kids and I don't :(
Initially the P.E. class started great when I noticed that Grecia-kun was staring at my quads!!! It feels so good that my gymnasium gains are finally getting recognition... and from him at that! He is so cute, I want to get married to him asap!!! but then Samnitia-chat started flaunting her riding skills and he didn't look at me for the rest of the session :/ Maybe I need to get some tan too. Grrrrrrrr ... I try to get mad at him but I just can't... he is so cute, sigh... oh, Grecia-kun, one day you will be mine - I swear by Jupiter Capitoline! hihihihihi >:)
Anyway, that's pretty much it my dear diary, catch you on the flip-flop, muah-muah
680 BC, with love and many pilum, you trusted Rome-chan
PS. I'm so exited for the Saturnalia <3
>go spy on Etruria-chan for new dress ideas, you need to be stunning in front of Grecia-kun on the Saturnalian dances
>make sure that you study properly for your classes, you are disciplined after all... and you have a test tomorrow
>sunbathe after school, you can't afford horse riding lessons like Samnitia-chan but at least you can have her tan 
Nine years ago King Aiden Perenolde betrayed the Alliance and sided with the Horde of Orgrim Doomhammer. Nine years ago Prince Alric Perenolde, the second heir of Alterac was sent into exile for his own protection. This exile turned permanent and Captain Normand Garside, your guardian for the past nine years made sure that you were safe and learned the useful skills that would help you in the future.
Now you are ready to carry the responsibility and unite the scattered Alteraci people and reclaim the lands that were once the Kingdom of Alterac.
You had your hands full with the Stonemasons after their arrival. Fiercely independent and holding on to their own identity, it would be a while until you have managed to integrate them with the rest of the Alteracis, but you did manage to accomplish at least something. The welcoming feast seemed to be a success and you struck some understanding with the mercenaries they had brought with them. Now having them guard Sofera's Naze, you felt your right flank to be more secure.
You also had promised to yourself that you would take it easy and relax a bit. So you decided to go camping with Malevus. Your plan was to spend a day or two enjoying the beauty of nature, and maybe talk about Malevus kissing you earlier, but something completely else also happened.
You met Thrall, the escaped gladiator from Durnholde and a very good friend of Taretha Foxton. Avoiding conflict, the two of you worked together in finding and destroying death knight Umo Shadowheart and stopping whatever plans it had.
Now with spring having started to turn into summer, you had a feeling that the world around you would turn into a way more hectic place.
Welcome to Alterac Resurgent Quest!
…
Twitter: https://twitter.com/MedivhQM
/qst/ Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Alterac%20Resurgent%20Quest
Prince Alric Stats: https://pastebin.com/rysxdRsv
Quest Mechanisms: https://pastebin.com/CyD88qqf
Character List: https://pastebin.com/FkYd6wkJ
Side Character Stats: https://pastebin.com/aRfyksUG Your name is Blooming Dandelion, but most people know you by your street name, “Meepis”, you are a self proclaimed vinestalker nomad of sorts that decided to spelunk into a dungeon housing a mythical legendary amulet, this amulet is said to be able to grant riches or be worth a really good penny itself.
Having no place to call home nowadays due to your miscreant nature, this is a golden opportunity made just for you!
[ PREVIOUS THREAD: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2024/5966131/ ] In the year 2537, the dreaded hosts of Chaos descended down on the realm of Jekatarina Bokha the Great, the Ice queen of Kislev. The hordes of Kurgan marauders mounted on horses struck upon her majesty’s provinces east of the Goromadny mountains (how the Kislevites call the World Edge mountains) and plundered Zhitozemlye (the Wheatlands, or the farming provinces of her majesty’s realm located in that accursed plain). All my estimates place the initial invasion force at some ten thousand bandits that descended down upon those poor and unfortunate souls and suffered by their wrath, no doubt either killed off or enslaved and dragged off to their dark masters. The invasion happened in two prongs encircling the central hills and lake and plundering and enslaving the northern edges of the colony. It is estimated fifteen thousand souls perished in the raids of that year, with a great cavalry battle occuring in the west of the colony, where a Dolgan chief butchered a great many Ungols. 
Moon in prominence: ~~ 17th day of Rumina's last cycle
Orbital partition: ~~~~~~ exiting Volupta's last squadron
Epoch: ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ yuga of Soranos
Location: ~~~~~~~~~~~ celestial body Providentia
~
~
~
start group listing...
... listing...
_____________________________________________________________________
Identificatum: Ulrike 'The Chaste' Van Der Bij, batavian woman-at-arms
Status: known foreign life form, PARTICIPANT
Blessings of the Mother: polymath, experienced war veteran, trickster, enduring survivor, self exposure to an array of venom & poisons have made her immune to otherwise deadly quantities, has sympathy for vulnerable children
Sins of the Father: cunning, ruthless, paranoid, cynical, sporadic violent outbursts, memories of past traumatic events can cloud her judgement
Supplementum: carries a pair of occult dice with unknown origin in a pouch around her neck; has a bastard sword, smeared with potent poisonous secretions of a pet salamander; a queer looking snake, another pet, is roaming through her clothes freely; lightly armored
Corpus: three different intricate tattoo patterns cover her chest, stomach and legs. For some reason, the ink work is made in such a way that it allows her to see the drawn depictions in detail only from her point of view; light bodily humors
Phobos: erotophobia; partial agoraphobia regarding feeling trapped, helpless or embarrassed, PTSD
Eros: asexual; raped in childhood, now smears salamander poison on her lips and labia daily
Reason to participate: wants to fix her broken psyche
[1/6] 
At last the familiar stone donjon of your castle looms above the horizon. You have journeyed long and hard and it is has been many years since you've seen its cheerful banners wave. Your companion, still dressed in his gloomy funeral clothes, shades his eyes and squints at something moving on the road. A procession of men with tonsured heads and plain white tunics fastened with nothing but belts of thick rope.
At their head is a great red coffin borne on the backs of four men. You recognize the two in front as, Gamling, your father's closest friend and beside him your father himself, his mane of hair now white to the tips. They turn in a fork on the road, heading in the direction of the cairns in which several generations of your family are interred. They are too far and preoccupied to have noticed you.
"A bad omen," says your companion, spitting over his shoulder in the custom of his people when they receive unwelcome news.
>Continue to the donjon
>Join the procession at the back
>Ride to the front and hail your father
>Write-in You wake up in the middle of a room, the bloomy ambience blurs your memories. You have absolutely no clue of where you are or what were you doing before you woke up in the room.
The ambience is cold and weird, you feel like you are dreaming or under the effects of a hallucinogenic substance, something that is weird because you have been weird your whole life.
You can:
Check your inventory
Examine (object)
go to (place)
use (object)
self inspection 
Your whole life, people have called you a "downer". You're no fun at parties, you don't have any friends, you like to bring up morbid topics in conversation, and you have a generally gloomy mood about you. The reason for this is because since you were a child, you've known the exact date you and everyone you love, are going to die. Why, you do not know, but it's true. You know, and it's haunted you. You wish you didn't, you really do, but it can't be helped.
Your name is Fido Ballthrow. You're a college dropout, a failed musician, and a disappointment to your family. You have very few friends, you have no job, and you only have, from this moment on, five days to live.
You knew today was the day it all begins last night, and in an anxious frenzy locked yourself in your closet with all the essentials. Tissues, a gun, blankets, and a pillow. In a rage, you punched a bunch of holes in your wall, because of course, you did.
Today is the first day of the rest of your life. What will you do?
DAYS: 5
DAY TIMER: 24:00:00
>Punch more holes in the wall (3 minutes)
>Go make breakfast (30 minutes)
>Cry (2-60 minutes
>Take the easy way out (End Quest)
>Call someone (2-100 minutes)
>Do something else (Time Depends) Is it always this warm out here? The sun beats down on dust and debris and all the curling, serpentine line of soldiers strung out behind you. Each and all sweat-stained and wind-bit.
Six more miles and six more hills and then that'll be the camp and then - finally - this long, long wandering reconaise patrol can end, you can pry off your boots, sign off on the last reports and maybe at long last get some sleep.
Nothing ever happens out here, anyway.
It's always quiet on the eastern front. . . Magical girls are believed to spread light and fight evil but they're actually racist, bigoted and corrupt! And you're going to prove it to the world! You've evidence of
>Sakura Kinomoto on a deeply racist anti-immigrant rant
>Usagi Tsukino driving around beating up homeless people
>Madoka Kaname accepting bribes from Boeing
>Nanoha Takamachi shooting heroin and drunk driving
>Ichigo Momomiya at Diddy's parties 
You are Charlotte Fawkins, dashing heroine, detectivess, adventuress, heiress, sorceress, etcetera. Three years ago, you drowned yourself in a quest to find a long-lost family heirloom; nowadays, you're just nobly c̶a̶u̶s̶i̶n̶g solving problems with the help of trusty retainer Gil and MIA snake/father Richard. Inexplicably, many people tend to "dislike" you, though you've never done anything wrong in your life.
Right now, you're wrapping up the final bits of pre-planning before you blow up the sinister company Headspace. In other words, you're speaking to Eloise.
"Charlotte! Always nice to see you." As always, it's impossible to tell whether or not she's joking. How does she do that? "I keep my promises! Got you the info on the Headspace locals. Alleged Headspace locals, anyway, they don't usually make a habit of publicizing the thing. I suspect it's the contracts. Here's all that... let's see here..."
Eloise pulls a folder out from under her cloak and presses it upon you. "I hope it's helpful! What happened to your hand?"
Your hand? You sliced it open so harvest blood for a cultish effigy. "Uhh... accident?"
"Quite an accident, if it hasn't healed yet! I hope it's not too painful. And, oh— hello, Gil. Nice to see you too, of course. Didn't mean to—"
"Hi," Gil says. He is standing behind and a little to the left of you.
"Hi! Have you two had a busy day? I heard there was something going on with Madrigal's new friend— was it Pat? Sounded like you were involved? No need to dish if it's not important, but..."
>[1] Humor Eloise.
>>[A] Tell her you saved Pat from Management, singlehandedly, as expected.
>>[B] Tell her that you think the doctor who re-integrated Ellery's eidolon was a snake.
>>[C] Gauge her reaction to the idea that snakes could run a business. Not that you have hard proof. You just... you don't know.
>>[D] She's a former metaphysicist, right? She'd probably be really interested in the glass-lined box you got from Horse Face. Show her how it works. (Bonus: you can see how it works.)
>>[E] Tell her that you can see strings now.
>>[F] Write-in.
>[2] You've had enough talking today, frankly. Take the info folder back to your tent and take care of whatever last things you need to take care of.
>[3] Write-in. 
Welcome into the stone-ice age of a far away unnamed star. After evolving in The Crack, the species known as Under Hunter reached Sapience and organized in tribes.
7 remains :
The fire-mastering Blanks of GrassGreen
The Assassin-tamers of Holey Moley, Tool-wielding shamans of Ghostclaw
The StrongHunters Armored feodal lords of BurningGrass
The Tzeench-touch blanks, Potters, winebrewer, cheesemakers of Jupiter
The Archers, Merchants, Slavers and Warptrailers of BadBack
The Lunar Dahu and Stove Grove farmers of Whitemane
The elusive trapmaker, History-recorders and pacifiers Cerulean
For those of you which held a tribe's fate in your claw...
>How should your tribe develop? (don't forget to claim a name and a trip)
Reminder that Bacback have 2 turns thanks to last thread's last action.
Interrested in joining? The Cerulean spot might be up to take.
Cerulean player haven't post in 15 days. Of course, if he's back before a lurker he takes back his spot.
I have one long-term lurker which is Breathless watcher. Up to you if you prefer to keep whispering in the warp or take the fate of a tribe in your hands.
Pastebin : https://pastebin.com/LLBm1mjj
Last thread : https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2024/5958470/
Please check out the Pastebin have correctly been updated. 
Your car has broken down on the road.
The engine is pouring smoke.
There is a light mist in the air.
You can see the town ahead that you were driving towards.
[You] -> [Red Bottlecap]
You are a:
>Man.
>Woman.
>Fog Spirit
>Write In
In addition, you are a:
>Townie. I live here. I am returning from an extended leave. I know the town and people. Easy.
>New Arrival. I moved here recently. I don't know most of the town or people in it. Medium.
>Out-Of-Towner. I do not live here. I know barely any of the town. People distrust me. Hard.
>Write In. Custom.
On top of that, you are a:
>Student. I have just finished my management degree. I am a good planner and organizer. ||Organized, +1 to Search rolls & ||Young, +1 to Agility rolls
>Lumberjack. I cut down trees and split logs for a living. I am strong. ||Burly, +1 to Might rolls & ||Axercise, +1 to Might rolls if using an axe
>Health Inspector. People dislike me in this town. I am worried. ||Disliked, -1 to Social rolls & ||Overspecialized, +1 to kitchen sanitary inspection rolls.
>Write In 
Welcome, one and all, to the triennial (though one hopes perhaps we can do this more often in the future) QUEEN OF /QST/ TOURNAMENT!
For those of you just joining us, this a celebration of some of /qst/’s greatest girls. It’s a successor to The great /QST/ Waifu Tournament of 2021 (https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2021/4999756/), meant to bring together our creative community of QMS and their most passionate participants to select a single sweetheart to represent our board for a year! Alongside the KING OF /QST/ (thread pending), the winner of this thread will be undisputed (read: very disputed) supreme grand poobah of all females and femmes until whenever someone opts to run one of these again!
In our preliminary thread (https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2024/5961634/) we whittled down our contenders to a nice, manageable TOP TWELVE. Ranging the gamut from young and old mortal and immortal, organic and inorganic, magical and mundane, they represent a wide swathe of what our board has to offer. Some are sexy, some are cute, some are both, and some (if you’re a filthy pleb) are “abominable freakshit”, but every single one of them was SOMEONE’S favourite, with enough interest to appear here today. So, how about we make some (re) introductions, huh? 
Welcome to /qtg/, a place to talk about quests.
Previous thread
>>5962533
>What is a quest?
An interactive story in which a Quest Master (QM) writes and provides the readers with options on how to proceed — similar to a choose-your-own-adventure book or an old text adventure
Questionably Useful links:
>QTG discord: https://discord.gg/6s4Xazmv
>Skirmish discord: https://discord.com/invite/DZCVvVU
>Evo Game discord: https://discord.gg/v55Xaaja
>Old pastebin containing advice for QMs:
https://pastebin.com/Z78p8gXf
Badly in need of renovation.
>Archiving guide:
Go to http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/requestqstinterface.html
Fill out the request form to archive a thread.
Threads are also automatically archived by other websites, such as archived.moe.
>Formatting guide:
Only the thread's OP can format. Note that should the OP change ID, they will lose this ability as well.
Remove the spaces between the [] brackets and the letters:
Bold: [ b ] text [ /b ]
Italics: [ i ] text [ /i ]
Red: [ red ] text [ /red ]
Blue: [ blue ] text [ /blue ]
Green: [ green] text [ /green ]
>Formatting guide for everyone:
Dice (type this in “options”): dice + [no. of dice]d[no. of sides on the dice] (optionally you can add modifiers: dice + [no. of dice]d[no. of sides on the dice]+[modifier]; for a negative modifier type: +-[modifier]
Examples: dice+1d100 = a 1d100 roll, dice+1d100+10 = a 1d100 roll with a +10 modifier.
Spoiler: [ spoiler ]spoiler[ /spoiler ] or by pressing alt+s in-thread
>QM question:
What's something you wish your players would stop doing? What's something you wish your players would start doing?
>Player question:
What's are some behaviors that other quest players exhibit that make you not want to read a quest anymore? Do you ever hide posts you don't like?
>General question:
Do you partake in questing when you have an abundance of free time, or does having a time crunch help motivate you?
>Lurker question:
You don't have to vote to post in a quest, why not partake in in-quest discussion more? Or even start some? Wife is a emotionless sperg with somehow a taste for romance CYOA, so I wanted to get her one for her birthday but I'm over my head
There's too much barely started proof of concept out there, and this is way more niche than I thought
She said she's played most freeware on itchio, but I want to get her something so I need your help guys
Her favorite one is superstition, pic related 
To recap, you died, and was then reincarnated as a tree in a fantasy world. You cannot do much since you are a tree. Or so you thought.
Soon you realized that You were no normal tree. You have skills and can level up, obtaining new abilities.
At first common stuff like growing apples and letting them fall, or blooming flowers.
But those powers have grown. You are obtaining followers, people that tend to you, give you energy.
One moment you decided to grow a second tree in the Beastkin Forest, and after saving a cat girl there, you leveled up and obtained the magical energies of the forest.
You then obtained the power of beast controlling fruits. Any animal and apparently, animal adjacent creature that eats it, is under your command, partial or total.
>ORDER THE BEASTKIN TO PET THE RABBIT, AND TO FEED THE FRUIT TO OTHER BEASTKINS.
You enter the command, and the Beastkin offers no resistance. Maybe because it doesn't go against his nature, or it is not a dangerous command to do, but he pets the rabbit, who doesnt move or run away.
The Beastkin then grabs a bunch of the paw shaped fruits, and takes them to his village.
The days pass, and you continue seeing new command boxes appear, people and animals falling under your control.
This does not rob them of free will, but you can see where they are now, sense them, see their status boxes, and the actions they are doing. And whenever you desire, make a command. Again, animals are fully under your control, but depending on the actions and your power, Beastkins can resist it.
>WANT TO GIVE ANOTHER COMMAND?
>GO BACK TO THE HILL WHERE YOU STARTED AND SEE HOW THINGS ARE GOING? 
“A Knight is Sworn to Valour. His Heart Knows Only Virtue. His Blade Defends the Helpless. His Might Upholds the Weak. His Word Speaks Only Truth. His Wrath Undoes the Wicked.”
Every child in Cantôn knows of the Knight’s Code. From peasant-born waifs playing with sticks in the mud to keen-eyed noble sons practicing with cold steel in the training yard, all have at the very least dreamed of one day becoming a knight themselves. To ride out on errantry into the Five Duchies Kingdom and beyond for God and Glory, bringing the Law of Adam to the wicked and the Blade of Cain to the beast.
The Knights of Cantôn are sworn to follow the Code, to obey the King, to refuse no call for aid honestly asked for, to seek out and destroy the Foe wherever it may lurk and rid the world of evil.
Were it so easy…
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Twitter: https://twitter.com/BlackCompany666
/qst/ Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Sworn%20to%20Valour
Our Knight, Deeds and Equipment Pastebin: https://pastebin.com/NcsL5Wtt
Faith, Politics & Intrigue Pastebin: https://pastebin.com/Zkumkcg1
Foes, Foreigners & Monsters Pastebin: https://pastebin.com/nXwzHGGa
Dramatis Personnae: https://pastebin.com/mydcz8pA
OC Art & Memes: https://imgur.com/a/DguQd5l 
The dim, fluorescent lights flicker above as you walk through the narrow corridor, the echo of your shackled feet bouncing off the cold, concrete walls. You're a man who's made mistakes—sure, who hasn't? But as the heavy metal door clanks shut behind you, sealing off the muted daylight, you can't help but wonder if those mistakes truly warrant this harsh dehumanizing reality. "Step right up, fresh meat!" a voice calls out, dripping with mocking cheer. It's a rough welcome, and it comes from a burly inmate with a scar trailing down his cheek. He's leaning against the bars of his cell, a smirk playing on his lips. You keep walking, trying not to meet the gaze of the other inmates, each of whom watches you with a mix of curiosity and appraisal. The guard behind you, a tall woman with a stern face, gives you a push. "Move along," she says, her voice firm and unkind. As you reach your cell, the door swings open with an ominous creak. The space inside is small, the air stale. A thin mattress lies on a metal frame, and a small window high up lets in just a sliver of light. You step inside, and the door slams shut with a finality that sends a shiver down your spine. "Hey, neighbor," comes a voice from the cell next to yours. You look over to see a young man with a friendly face, his hair a tangled mess. "Don’t let the bastards get you down. Name’s Danny." You nod, unsure of how to respond. Your throat feels tight, your stomach in knots. Danny seems to sense your discomfort and chuckles softly. "Yeah, it's a lot to take in. But you'll find your rhythm here. We all do." That night, as you lie on the hard mattress, the sounds of the prison wrap around you—the distant clanging of doors, the soft murmur of voices, the restless shifting of bodies. You close your eyes and think back to the world outside, to the life you once had. The mistakes that led you here begin to replay in your mind, each one a sharp stab of regret. But amidst the noise and the harsh reality of your new environment, you make a silent vow. You're not just going to survive here; you're going to find a way to live, really live, even behind these bars.
>>Keep a Low Profile: Stay out of trouble by avoiding conflicts and not drawing attention to yourself. This might mean keeping your head down and observing the prison dynamics before making any moves.
>>Build Respect: Earn the respect of fellow inmates by standing firm when challenged, yet respecting the unwritten rules of the prison.
>>Plan an Escape: Although risky, if escape is on your mind, it involves observing guard patterns, securing tools, and possibly forming a pact with other inmates for a coordinated effort.
>>Seek Rehabilitation: Engage in educational programs, work assignments, or therapy sessions available in the prison.
>>Develop a Routine: Establish a daily routine that includes physical exercise, reading, writing, or other activities that maintain mental and physical health. Your beloved leader is dying. You have been in his guard for the better part of your life, always protecting him from harm, defending his image and fully upholding the views of his moral compass. The necromancy team that was assembled, in order to give your leader immortality, finally finds the right incantations but it is too late. He, who was supposed to be the One, is finally gone, silent tears roll down your cheeks.
You proclaim your undying loyalty to him and promise to finish his reshaping of the world, entering the binding circles of the necromancers. You will live for eternity and your only companion will be the cherished memories that you had with
>Gilgamesh
>Caligula
>Timur
>Tokugawa Ieyasu
>Pol Pot
>Adolf
>John F. Keneddy A little girl with a gun.
The thought alone jolts you out of your lingering hangover.
"What business does a little girl have, wandering the rain-slicked streets of Tokyo under the cloak of night?" That question haunted you last night, and now, it seems you might stumble upon the answer.
"You there, Kurosawa?" the chief's voice blares from the phone, pulling you back to the urgent matter at hand.
"Yes, chief, I'm on my way to the station right now," you reply, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of thoughts.
As you head out, a rumor you once dismissed flickers through your mind—the one about a sinister government project in a distant country designed to transform young girls into ruthless killers, devoid of emotion and remorse.
Could there be a connection?
No, it’s better to focus on uncovering the truth rather than weaving conjectures.
First thread: >>5964817
>Which country ran the secret child assassin project?
>Romania
>Italy
>Russia
>Write in In an age before recorded history, Man eked out a life bound by blood and tradition across his ancestral homeland of Thulzar.
And in this harsh realm where iron and sinew forged the path to glory, flowed the lifeblood of the Whispering River. It winded through desolate hills and past crumbling ruins, a serpentine ribbon in a land that brooked no weakness. Previous thread here:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2024/5954514/
All threads:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=sci-fi%2C+VoidQM
In the last thread we convinced Tim to not report our extrajudicial killings, and enthusiastically participated in Pahan-Hys' maturation ceremony. After undergoing uncertified 'medical' procedures, we are now healthy again, if slightly stranger from the experience. 
THE BASICS
Your name is Joey Donuts.
You are Grel (half elf, half human}
You are a student wizard. You haven't picked your major and you're not licenced to use magic in areas owned by the Grand Ternion Unity.
You have SIX spells
Blast - Does 6d6+20 energy damage. -MP 20
Draw- Drain 10+2d6 mana from a target, providing they have mana -MP 5
Wrack - DO 10 damage to yourself to gain 12 MP -free
WIZARD HAAAANDS - Manipulate an object you can see but not reach. As strong as you are - MP 10
Douse - Extinguish any fire up to the size of a campfire , includes ignitions from matches and guns - MP 5
Hells Heart - Instantly double the damage of any attack (ranged, magical, or physical) by charging it with magic -MP 16 Joey has improved this skill and can cast it on another party member while still performing an action for 20 mana. He can also cast it on himself and one other person while performing another task for a cost of 41 mana.
Earths Honesty - Tell if someone is lying about the thing they have just said. MP 6
You are the acting CEO of Cold Iron Solutions potion company. Making mutterbottles and mana potions
You solve shit.
Your consigliere and number one is also your girlfriend. An enterprising goblin for hire called HIGHBALL.
You have a company staff.
LUMSDEN -Owner and pilot of your airship
SURREY - Potion brewer
JONES - Staff chef
GILCREST - Custodian
KARL - A private investigator
You have adventuring party members
BURSTOCK - An chill but rebellious healer. A thot with a big heart.
MIKE - A pragmatic hunter, kinder than he looks. Kind of your bro.
RICHTER - A wise muscle wizard, unfamiliar with people.
JORN - A distractible martial artist trying to make up for past crimes.
previous thread for more details:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2023/5563672/
This quest is nice and slow so don't panic.
Here is the wikia that is chock full of info on the characters, locations and mechanics (and misspellings).
https://trust-a-goblin.fandom.com/wiki/Trust_A_Goblin_Wiki In the world of Hainei, something terrible is about to happen. It will come fast, nobody will see it coming. It will make people loud, with fright. Bone will be ripped free of flesh confines, souls will be scratched and scarred. Darkness takes flight.
This is what will happen, right from the start, to the finish...
...
~~~
This quest is a side story that takes place in the universe of Chaos: The Quest for Redemption. New readers are encouraged to start from the beginning to grasp the context of what you are about to witness.
Archive: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Levelman
Questcord: https://discord.gg/BHk6RfhGTw
Wiki: https://chaosquest.miraheze.org/wiki/Main_Page 
Earth. Fire. Air. Water. Seventy years ago, Avatar Aang and his friends heroically ended the Hundred Year War, and transformed the Fire Nation Colonies into the Federation of United Peoples, a society where people from all over the world live and thrive together in peace and harmony. They named the capital of this fifth nation Union City. Avatar Aang accomplished many remarkable things in his life, but sadly, his time in this world came to an end. And like the cycle of the seasons, the cycle of the Avatar began anew.
=====
Welcome to Avatar: The New Age! As the opening and name of the quest imply, this will be taking place in a similar timeframe as Legend of Korra, though Aang died a few years later and a lot of the stupid shit from the comics and Korra won’t be making an appearance. I’m not saying this will be a fixfic, but I am saying that the only good part of this franchise is the original series. A couple of Korra episodes and like 2/5ths of the contents of the novels are okay too, I guess. What I’m saying is, don’t expect rugs, dykes, enbies, or to be able to metagame too hard. Now, without further ado: 
The solution to no earthly secret is beyond the grasp of your little elvish head. After living for thousands of years only boredom and the road are your constant companions. Oh, Adelyle too. People always assume that she is your caretaker because of your short height but then they notice the leash around her neck. She is a tall and slender demonette, lead on a leash after loosing her eyesight privileges. She overboiled the potatoes the other day. She is now complaining but it's not your problem.
Humans approach you constantly with offers to buy her, as she is the last of her kind. The attention that she always gets irks you a bit. Just slightly. Now you feel guilty and return her sight. A hopeful potential buyer approaches you again and you enter tirade mode. You start a convoluted story, which is an allegory to a verbal representation of saying that you are a collector too. Then you proudly show off your other, non-person, collection. It is the string of seashells that form a necklace around your neck. Each seashell is taken from the shores of a different sea. Great way to fight boredom and existential dread, you have found.
My goal is to collect a seashell from every sea! Now this is a reason to keep on living! you say with childish enthusiasm.
This is stupid Adelyle murmurs to herself. You are forced to take her eyesight again. She puts on her leash with a sigh.
So in short, no, she is not for sale. Keep moving, pal, not my problem. The nonsensical verbal barrage repulses the buyer successfully.
Adelyle is very loyal, Stockholm syndrome you assume. One time, after another fit of existential anguish, you let a group of drunk humans to put their what-nots in your whatever and once the demonette learned about your clandestine endeavors, she pursued the men for several days in search of retribution. You went chasing her, concerned about her potential collector value dropping, oh, and her safety, only to find her innocently sleeping under a peach tree, covered in someone else's blood. You took her eyesight privileges for a few weeks, you recollect, she made something that wasn't your problem, your problem, after all. After that whole ordeal you started calling Adelyle Aids, but you do it sparingly now because she tends to cry after hearing her nickname for some reason.
[1/2] 
With the Supreme Kai of Time Chronoa dethroned, the Demon God Dumplin beaten, and Karn's whole family now able to live in his timeline, things have been looking up for the Saiyan General. But all good things can't last forever. And when conflicts arise between deities, mortals are inevitably caught in the crossfire. Does Karn, the Berserker God possess the strength to protect his family, people, world and reality from their fickle nature? Or are the beings above mortal ken also beyond mortal reproach? This outcome may be up to you.
You the players control Karn, wielder of the mighty Berserker Soul. Granting him the power to fight against gods and other divine beings, to resist their influence and strengths. From his lowly beginnings as a Saiyan Brawler with a sub-3000 powerlevel in Age 733, only a few years into his time as a member of the PTO, he has now become the strongest Saiyan of his time. With the power of the Berserker God, combined with That Which Should Not Be and having devoured a soul born of the Abyss itself, his strength is now unlike anything before seen in his reality. But will this newfound strength be enough to overcome the threats headed his way? Only time will tell, your choices can spell the difference between success and failure.
Character sheets and other info:
https://controlc.com/46ec566d
https://pastebin.com/u/GrandDragonQM
Archive:
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=Saiyan+Conqueror+Quest
Help fund quest art commissions and get exclusive side stories as well as artwork here: https://www.patreon.com/GrandDragonQM
Quest rules are as follows(unless otherwise noted):
>30 minute vote times
>Pick ONLY ONE option when voting
>Dice rolls are all best of first three correctly-rolled dice
>One dice roll per person per post unless three players have not yet rolled, and ten minutes has passed since your previous roll
>Crits are 100 on a d100(a 99 or paired rolls may net you an extra bonus)
>Crit fails are a 1/100 with no passing rolls, or if two 1s are rolled regardless of the third
>Write-ins are both allowed and encouraged, but OOC options will be ignored
>If your goal is simply to troll, at least put in enough effort to make it funny
>Have fun
SCQ will usually start on Saturdays at noon Eastern Standard Time, and run throughout the weekend. Also, for updates or schedule changes you can find me on twitter @GrandDragonQM, which I keep as up to date with any scheduling changes as soon as possible.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8EAhFZQWCr8
THE FICKLE GODS 
The year is 1374 DR. Sixteen years have passed since the Time of Troubles, when the gods were made humble, and forced to wander the Realms as mortals. With the ascension of the mad god Cyric, Prince of Lies, and the recent return of the tyrant god Bane, Lord of Darkness, the future of Faerûn seems increasingly uncertain. It falls to bold individuals who possess an abundance of cunning, might, and determination to shape the future... should they be up to the challenge.
The terrain guides you downwards, into the misty valley at the furthest depths of the Silverwood. Here, the thick canopy squelches the sun's last light, although the shadows are no enemies of yours. The heart of the forest is illuminated by numerous motes of fire, carrying the aromas of cooked meals out into the wilderness. This must be where the followers of Mielikki as well as the Eilistraeans have made camp, assuming that you did not arrive here before Luaue and the others.
The journey was not as uneventful as you had hoped, but you are here. What is first on the agenda?
>Before anything else, I should seek out Luaue, and share with her the news of recent developments.
>It has been quite some time since Willow and I have seen one another. She and I could 'shoot at the breeze,' as the surface dwellers say.
>I can chat as much as I'd like come morning. My feet ache, and I am ready to retire for the day. 
One moment, you were sound asleep. Probably dreaming of something that could not or would not happen in reality. Something esoteric and obscure. It could be anything and everything, as that is how dreams work. What was being broadcasted inside of your mind is of no importance at the current moment because at some time during your slumber you passed away. Died. Your heart had stopped beating and your chest had rose and had fallen for a final time. A fate that meets all living creatures, both young and old. At least your life ended painlessly and without any suffering, right? The same cannot be said for most other mortals whose flames have been snuffed out. The world of the living is behind you now. Whatever responsibilities, unfinished business, prospects, goals, or relationships you had are left behind. Now it is just you, standing in the middle of a small yet indescribably long pathway of dirt. You cannot see where it leads, as your eyes travel up ahead until the view forward becomes shrouded by clouds. All around you and the pathway leading up to nowhere is a sea of grass, beautiful white flowers sprinkled about in that green sea. A blue sign points forward, a language you cannot read being written on the side of it. The only symbol you can decipher aside from that arrow is a picture of a tree providing shade for a humble sitting bench. With nowhere else to go and nothing else to do, the only choice is to begin marching up the trail and see what awaits at the top, however far up that may be. But first, you must remember. Specifically, you must remember you who are. What life did you live leading up to your death? Who are you, traveler?
>Write-in. 
If you want to play from here, you can, but be aware it's hard for you to do anything covertly All your moves can be looked up by other players.
We are missing Iran and Sunni Opposition, but we got enough people to play.
>Last thread
>>5954784
-
>Recruitment Ad
Ready for a wargame with a unique twist? Introducing a "Matrix Game" where your strategic arguments and knowledge of history directly impact the outcome. Think Clancy/Battlefield triller intensity with deeper geopolitical intrigue.
>Key Features:
- Argument is Your Weapon: Persuasive tactics earn you combat modifiers. I'll arbitrate, channeling my history expertise and healthy dose of insanity.
- Volatile Modern World: Choose between Central Asia, the Middle East, or East/Central Africa. Expect volatile factions and superpower powerplays. (Mercenaries 1/2 fans, this will feel familiar)
- Hyper-Realistic Conflict: Amplified economic and technological factors fuel relentless, plausible warfare (The Pentagon/Analysts uses Marix games).
What sets this apart:
- Historical depth: My BoA in history (Magna Cum Lade) informs a setting where your knowledge matters.
- Player Agency: You don't just roll dice. You shape the narrative and propose lore to build the world collaboratively.
>How to Get Involved
- Vote: Where should the conflict unfold? [NM, we voted for Middle East]
- Choose Your Platform: How should we run this? [They voted for Discord, https://discord.gg/UzmPCYUD]
Inspiration: This draws from PaxSims (https://paxsims.files.wordpress.com/2015/03/150314-isiscrisismaster-v2.pdf) and similar politically charged wargames.
>Let's Build This Together! Tags: cybernetic, high fantasy, post-apocalyptic, adventuring, improvisation, trains, civ
Oneshot probably. Anon, I'm giving you ten million dollars of my money.
You must invest all of it in the stock market at today's rate.
If you give me a positive return, I'll reward you handsomely.
But if you end up with less than what I gave you, I'll cut off your balls and feed it to my goats.
So, good luck.
>>Buy the shares
1. You must invest the entire amount
2. You can only buy stocks listed in the united states stock exchanges 
The corpse of King Suial the Third lies crumpled before you, the fury that just minutes ago burned in your chest subsiding. The blade in your hand gleams with his blood. His crimson life pools at your feet, staining the marble floor like an accusation. You feel no remorse, however. The old man was a scourge upon the land—a tyrant who reveled in wealth while the people scraped together scraps. His lust for blood sport and carnal indulgence tainted the realm. And he silenced all who dared to raise a voice against his tyranny through gruesome public executions. Your conscience is untroubled by your actions.
A soft voice pulls your attention away from the lifeless body. "You must take his place as king," she implores, desperation etched in her words. One of Suial’s favored concubines stands before you, her gaze unwavering despite the turmoil brewing in her eyes. "Or else the kingdom will fall into civil war." The revealing, green, silken dress that clings to her pale, delicate young frame shimmers like emerald in the torchlight, reflecting more of Suial's taste than her own. Hair black as ravens frame her delicate face, and eyes the color of polished jade pierce you, unwavering in their plea.
You consider her words, as shadows of uncertainty creep into your thoughts. The kingdom teeters on the precipice, held together by the sheer force of the old tyrant's ruthless rule. Without a strong hand to guide it, chaos is certain. She takes a tentative step closer, her voice steady despite her fear. “The nobles will carve the land among themselves, each vying for power. The people will suffer more.”
In the flickering light of the throne room, you see the terror beneath her composure. She, like countless others, has endured the old tyrant’s cruelty and lust, yet she does not flee, does not turn away from the blood staining your blade.
Instead, she stands before the throne that now sits empty behind her, the gilded chair a symbol of power that bears the scars of Suial’s rule. Your fingers tighten around the hilt of your sword as the weight of her plea settles upon you. The path she offers is fraught with peril, a journey that may well consume you, body and soul.
Yet, as you consider the kingdom’s fate, a resolve forms within you. You sheathe your sword, and as the concubine holds her breath, you make your decision.
> Reluctantly, you ascend the throne, feeling the weight of the people's expectations settle on your shoulders.
> With unwavering resolve, you claim Suial's throne, his crown, and his concubines, all rightful spoils of your victory.
> You decide to establish an uncompromising rule, prepared to crush any dissent with an iron fist.
> You accept the mantle of king, but only temporarily, vowing to hand over power once a rightful successor emerges. You are an enforcer. The year is 2098. Nation states are obsolete and in their place the megacorps hold the highest authority and power. When carrots are not enough, you and your squadmates will be the stick. At the moment you are a Lance Corporal, riding a helicopter with the rest of your squad. 
Welcome to Cultural Civ, a civ game where your civilization's culture shifts with time !
players control a civilization through the years and decide its explorations, cultural and technological advancements, and diplomacy.
how to play:
1) choose a civ to play for. change your name to reflect your choice (ex: Bowtie Noble).
2)each turn, your civ has 1 action and a bonus action. You can choose a cultural, technological, or immediate acion, plus one bonus action based on your realms' bonus action(if your realm has a bonus tech action, you can do any action one time per turn, plus a tech action). (this part is subject to change if the game flow isn't right.)
3)discuss with your compatriots which actions you will take. Once you're done, reply to my recap anchor post with the recap of your actions.
Three tribes just landed on this island, for their own reasons. They will have to explore, and find somewhere to settle.
But first, we need to create and populate the tribes. And that's what thread 0 is for. Setting: Classic Faerun
the Evermoors
think a Bog/Marsh lake setting. Think Scotland Loch Ness Monster Vibes.
Town Setting:
Lockmead:
Biggest town in the Evermoors but barely larger than a quaint village. The town's two main exports are silver and spirits. Built up around the local Silvermane mine. The town is mostly reliant on imports from Waterdeep of regular commodities. Boats have been disappearing and the regular shipments have stopped being regular. Approved by the mayor, a citizen traveled to Waterdeep and posted some very exaggerated fliers about a great team building opportunity in the town of Lockmead.
Preamble
While in the city of Waterdeep you saw a flier about the Lockmead Adventurer's Guild offering a chance for glory. You may have heard of the Evermoors before or not, or even a bit about the town of Lockmead which you are headed to. But something brought you to the docks where you booked passage on the only ship in the harbor willing to travel to the Evermoors. 
You are perched on your sturdy Arabian stallion, scanning the horizon. The sun, a molten disc descending beyond the hills, casts a deep amber glow across the battlefield. Your fingers grip the curved hilt of your scimitar, its steel eager for blood. Ahead, the Crusaders falter, their formation breaking under the relentless onslaught of your fellow Muslim warriors.
“They are cowardly and weak, like sheep ready for slaughter,” you mutter to yourself, voice tinged with grim satisfaction. It’s a scene you’ve seen countless times—these invaders faltering in the face of determined resistance. You know the Holy Land better than they do; you were raised under its burning sun, tempered by its harsh deserts and rugged hills.
In a heartbeat, you kick your steed forward. The horse leaps, snorting eagerly, and in moments, you’re charging toward the fray, your blade arcing in deadly sweeps. The first Crusader falls before you can register his scream, his eyes wide with shock beneath his helm. The second drops with a gurgle, your scimitar severing his windpipe. A cry goes up, a desperate yell from the Crusader ranks, and they scatter like leaves before a desert wind.
“God is great!” You shout, rallying your men. The wind carries the chant across the battlefield, and you revel in the power it lends you, pushing you to strike down another infidel with swift finality.
The Crusaders came to these lands seeking glory and wealth, a misguided delusion that warps their sense of reality. They are like children, clutching at fantasies while ignoring the harsh truth of your scimitar. “This is our land,” you think, your breath heaving, muscles straining with each swing. “We will not yield.”
You glance to your left, where your commander leads the charge. His spear rises high, catching the sun’s dying light, and for a moment, you see it burn like a beacon, a rallying point for your people. You press forward, weaving through the battlefield, moving with the ease of one who knows these sands well.
Every swing of your blade is purposeful, every movement calculated. This battle will end with your victory because your cause is righteous, a cause that burns bright within you and your fellow warriors.
>>Who are you?
>Zayd ibn Khalid: A veteran warrior who grew up in Damascus, Zayd joined the Saracen forces to defend the Holy Land after witnessing his family's farmland burned down by Crusaders.
>Yusuf al-Fahd: Yusuf is the son of a respected emir and was trained from a young age in swordsmanship; he now leads a small cavalry unit in defense of Jerusalem.
>Salah ibn Omar: A former merchant who traded across the Levant, Salah was drawn into the conflict after the Crusaders occupied his trade routes, devastating his business.
>Kamil al-Rashid: A scout known for his keen eyesight, Kamil grew up as a nomad in the Syrian desert before joining the Saracen army to help fend off the Crusader invasions.
>(Other) In the year 1987, crime and corruption in America is an epidemic. Drugs and guns flow into the country from everywhere in the world, and the gateway to it all is the coastal paradise, Heat City. This is a place of shining high-rises and shadowed alleys, sunsets and smog, neon and blood, ruled by ambition and greed and power. Here in Heat City, you can get whatever you want -- if you can pay the price. 
More than a year has passed since the call to arms by pope Urban II in Clermont. Religious zeal spread wildly though all of Christendom, gathering fanatics, monks, liegeless soldiers, the disinherited and the second sons to the banners with the cross. A huge mob of Christian peasantry, hastily rushing towards the Holy Land lead by Peter the Hermit, met their doom in the treacherous terrains of Asia Minor six months ago. Turks... Bohemond of Taranto scoffs. A boulder of a man, Norman by descend, is sitting alone in a high balcony, facing the huge city. As per his request, the Greek ruler, pretentiously calling himself the emperor of all romans, Alexios Komnenos, granted him a tower to serve as his guest quarters. He likes his solitude and the overindulging comfort of the Imperial palace isn't the right place for his soldier heart. Yet he admires the view, Constantinople truly is magnificent in its sheer size.
Bohemond, diligent as always, was first to arrive. The metropolis was set as the gathering point for the nobles who were joining the crusade. For the past few weeks he met the arriving Baldwin of Lorraine, Godfrey of Bouillon, Robert II of Flanders and their retinues, all experienced and respected commanders. Then came bishop Adhemar de Monteil, a dear acquaintance of Bohemond, selected by the pope as the crusade's spiritual leader. In another week's time came Hugh of Vermands and Stephen of Blois - the former just a boy, the latter - a noble without any notable achievements. Then there was Peter the Hermit who miraculously survived the Turkish attacks. Despite failing the peasant's crusade, he is warmly welcomed by the orthodox Greek community. Finally the rich but inexperienced duke Raymond IV of Toulouse arrives with a huge retinue. Bohemond surmises that he must be contributing almost forty percent of all crusader forces.
Alexios Komnenos is always there with Bohemond, greeting each new arriving crusader noble, inquiring about their journey, graciously providing lavish gifts, luxurious resting quarters, brand new barracks for their men and horses, calculated smile on his lips. In exchange for supplies along their long way, the crusaders are scheduled to swear oaths to the emperor in a few days, guaranteeing that all conquered lands by the crusaders will be returned to the Byzantines with the exception of Jerusalem.
_______________________________
Forces: 7 000 knights | 35 000 foot soldiers | 9 000 archers and crossbows
Morale: High ---> piety: +piece of the True Cross +Adhemar +Peter the Hermit -in a city (prostitutes/drinking) | provisions: +food in the city +water in the city +many war and pack horses 
Year: UC 0080's
After the devastation of the Stardust Incident, trust eroded in the capability of the Earth Federation, and the need for an task force that could operate outside the purview of the law to prevent an similar event from ever happening again. Thus the rise of the Titans was officially declared, an sizable chunk of the Federation budget poured into the coffers of the Titans as they began to develop and test countless mobile suits and variations, all at the behest of their leader, Jamitov Hymen and his right hand man, Bask Om.
But not all were content to simply lie back and let the Titans rise be absolute, their heavy handed policies brought upon them the scorn and distaste for not only the Titans, but also the Earth Federation as well. Still, your father was a federation man, who lost his life in the war. Even so, you left to become a soldier...
[When did you join the Titans?]
A. 0083, when it was first established.
B. 0085, just before the Bunch 30 Incident
C. 0086, Prior to the AEUG performing their Gundamjack operation.
[What type of Newtype are you?]
Oldtype, sadly
Dormant Newtype
Average Newtype
Potent Newtype
Other?
[Where were you assigned?]
Standard Forces
Test Corps
Newtype Corps
Dirty Jobs/Cleaner Detail
Other? Are you a fan of World Trigger?
Or are you just curious?
Regardless, let's play a World Trigger campaign. 
You are Argentinian who sees himself as an Italian but speaks only Spanish.
You are just Argentinian, Otto, forget this Italian stuff your best friend says.
My paternal and maternal bloodlines dare to disagree, Poncho. Methodically, patiently, placidly, contentedly, I have successfully traced them back to Tuscany, you rootless mutt! you have started disliking him since he came out as gay.
Your name is Otto.
Ah, Tuscany! Old country, home...
Your name is Otto, Otto.
My parents saw themselves as Schleswig-Holsteiners but I refuse to bow down to anything non-Italian!
...gay silence...
You are also obsessed with some French hussar that was obsessed with dying at 30. Now you are kind of obsessed with dying at 25, can't let the French win. Your pompousness, swaggering and boastfulness are also your best allies in making that obsession come true. It is the Italian blood in your veins!!!
Currently you are in a gay bar. Not Italian, just an Argentinian gay bar. Poncho, your gay best friend, was adamant of bringing you here. He believes that you are secretly gay too.
It is the Italian blood in your veins he said the other day.
You are staring at the gay wall and want to break the gay silence between you and your gay best friend.
>"Poncho, are you grooming me?"
>"Nothing Italian is gay..." you say mysteriously.
>the same way Mussolini's royal guard came out with rusty rifles at The Inspection of 1939, my affection for you and your gayness has rusted like a their long rifle barrels [strike a pose, roll dice+1d2 for one that is gay or non-gay]
>punch Poncho in the face to make sure that you have that dog in you [and that you are not gay] 
It has been 100 years since ancient beings, known as the Old Ones, walked the Earth with their two strong feet. Now they are gone and we animals now rule the remains that they left behind. With our new knowledge of sword and sorcery, we were able to survive in peace for a while, but then came the three factions.
The Apes: Strong giants, claiming to be as just as the old ones and believe they should be the ones to rule over the new world.
The Pigs: An intellectual but slothful group who wish to rule the world with an iron hoof and remain kings while the others remained as dumb animals.
Then there the Lizards: A fast and large group that want to set the world a blaze. Trying to forget the harsh past that the old ones left.
All three sides wishing to go war and destroy one another to bring in what they believe to be true peace.
But, unbeknownst to everyone, there was another group. One that was trying their best to find a way to heal everyone. To bring back order.
You found it.... and now you are taking care of it.
A D&D Homebrew Adventure.
Previous Quests:https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Rise%20of%20the%20Awakened 
You are a weirdo, an absolute strange one. After a lightning strike against some magic clay, you were born. You have no name, no goals, and an entire world of poorly illustrated weirdos who each likely have their own schizophrenic wants and needs!
Our story begins on the road where you finally have your ego slip into your new form. No deity claims you, and you don’t know what to do with your hands. In the distance, you see a quaint village bustling with activity. Its inhabitants are just as bizarrely drawn as you, moving in peculiar, jerky motions as if they're part of a child's flip book animation.
Nearby, a crooked sign swings slightly in the wind. It reads 'Welcome to Twisty Hollow.' Just past the sign, a group of creatures, looking like a mix of turnip and human, argue loudly about the best way to grow magical carrots.
As you stand there, trying to make sense of this odd world, a small, scribbly cat with two heads, one smiling and one frowning, approaches you. The smiling head purrs and says cheerfully, 'Hello there! New to these parts? You look like you could use a purpose! The folks around here always need help with something. Maybe helping them will help you find your own path!' The frowning head adds grumpily, 'Or just create more confusion. They're a weird bunch, after all.'
Your hands still feel weird and awkward, but you decide it's time to interact with this strange world. The cat continues, 'If you're looking for something to do, I know a few troubled souls who could use a hand:
>Help the turnip-humans with their magical carrot cultivation problem.
>Assist the local baker, a floating loaf of bread, who seems to be missing some crucial baking ingredients.
>Investigate the mysterious singing coming from the old well on the edge of the village.
>Simply explore the village and see what other odd jobs you might stumble upon.
What will you do? 
>You are an Inspecter looking to find out the truth on the matter of Son Gohan being severely injured. His sister, Son Peppa, has not been injured, but may have some clue as to why her brother was injured. You will have to find out what she knows.
>WARNING: This is a spinoff of Dragon Ball Tuffle Quest. Being familiar with Tuffle Quest helps, but this spinoff will also have topics such as bullying, abuse, self-harm, drug use, grief, suicidal ideation, grooming, violence, and rape.
https://youtu.be/3s7lBElHbSY
The Inspecter actually three of the tuffle Maple Son-Mahogany, Peppa's Mom, in a trenchcoat has heard Peppa describe in detail how her chocolate, meant for her girlfriend, was stolen from her on February 14th.
Then, Peppa talked of how she was fighting with her brother Gohan since that incident, but then the fights got too severe for Peppa to recount the rest, so the Inspecter motioned for her to take a break.
The Inspecter went out and had coffee, and the three components of the Inspecter (Scolding, Doting, and Inquiring) discussed some theories based on the info they had, then went over some of the big questions of the case.
In the end, there was only one question that could be answered with any certainty... "Become my husband, Yuusha! Together we can overthrow the demon king and rule the kingdom as equals!" The demon king's top general whom you've fought multiple times as the chosen hero makes a shocking proposal! How do you respond?
>No, you're evil, I'll never marry you!
>You're just going to betray me after defeating the demon king!
>Sorry, I already have a girlfriend.
>Write In 
Welcome to Do Your Best Quest: Relevant Times. A collection of auto-conclusive short sidestories in Prancijan!
Select one of the characters, complete their short story, and move to the next one! You’ll decide the fate of each one, help them succeed or watch them fail! It’s all down to your choices!
Please, pick who you want to play as first:
Rob Banks – Officially demoted (again) from his position as Police Chief, Rob Banks has been tasked to aid the mysterious Unit 95 with its most important mission so far: Apprehend the most powerful homeless man in the shelter. Can they defeat the man blessed by the city itself?
Dunja – This Orange Star United spy snuck into a high society party where President Lazarus Gordon Junior and his cabinet are guests of honor. Her mission is to assassinate the ‘Air Force General’ Wichapi Cherrikano. Will she taint her hands with blood? Or will she die in the process?
Ivanna L. Tavarez – After years under the tutelage of the former head of government Lazarus Gordon Senior, the second phase of his revenge is underway. As the future head of state, Ivanna has to pick a right-hand man from the prisoners locked up in the highest security prison in the country to serve her. Will she choose wisely?
Uzziel – The most outstanding prospect of the Saoinji & Koroma Educational Program of Excellency is being interviewed to work directly under presidential candidate Elicarto Lloydington. To test his competency, he’ll face challenges not even the bravest in Pokyo Lokyo could hope to survive. Will he tame the metaphorical White Tiger of the Concrete Jungle?
Richard Wright – The reinstated detective started his own private investigation on Elicarto Lloydington, and gathered enough information to get a search warrant for his office. He’ll find more than mere clues if he’s not cautious. Will this be the first step towards the politician’s downfall? Or will Richard be made to disappear like countless others?
Sigi – All his life, Sigi has been a kid without a girlfriend. This part isn’t relevant to the story. What is relevant is that he was given a mysterious briefcase by mistake and was ordered to hand it over to a mysterious lady in a bar named ‘Red, Hot & Rio’! Oh boy! Maybe his psychic powers will come in handy once he tries to satiate his curiosity instead of throwing this thing away! You are a Cutémon!
You are one of the rarest types of mon: a mon that looks like a cute human girl!
Like all mons, you gain energy by fighting and defeating other mons. Your trainer is the human boy Joe Apple of Patina. A cute voice echoes,"Yuusha-sama! Yuusha-sama! Rise and shine!"
Startled, you snap awake. But there's nobody there. It was just a dream. Alone in your cramped studio apartment, you realize it's Monday morning. School awaits, yet the thought fills you with dread. The bullies are going to beat you up and steal your lunch money once more. Such is the fate of a fat loser in a school from a poor neighborhood.
Will you attend school today?
>Yes, there’s no choice.
>No, perhaps it's best to skip.
Roll 1d100. The result will determine today's luck. 
You are Kuroda Haruka and King Lot of Lothian and Orkney. You are also King of Camelot by right and claim! Of course, so far, shouldering this heady title has only resulted in lots of work, bizarre discoveries of how things work in Avalon, and the responsibility of fending off attacks from enemies.
Like the monstrous Wyvern, which had the temerity to eat two of your vassals!
Even if all the vassals are unruly Anarchists, rigid Nomenklatura, religious Fanatics, disloyal Pirates and other such odd characters... Going down that mental route is verboten for a King. You need as many Baphomets alive to enact your ultimate ambition of returning home with your identity restored!
The unnatural two headed creature lashes out with its long, poisonous stinger tail to disrupt your attack. Black smoking ichor beads at the end of the scorpion-like stinger, and the odd droplet sizzles as it drips on to the ground.
Perhaps attracting the attention of this thing wasn't the best idea...
Stats
Kuroda Haruka, 16 year old. A forgotten but genuine member of the Kuroda samurai clan.
Identity: King Lot of Lothian and Orkney
+1 Charisma dice
Trait:
A True Heart "Magokokoro", bonus in one on one interaction with a hostile opponent.
Crafty attacker: When making artful gambits and trickery in a fight, gain +2 dice to attack! It's not cheating, it's stratagem damn it!
Let No Insult Pass! - When attacking, 4s also count as successes in addition to 5s and 6s. Use 1 per day
Frostbind - Your weapon. A spear with ice powers. Finally able to summon it whenever you want.
Beira, the Cailleach; your ice ability grows stronger and with better control.
Dignity - Greater Mana reaped from targets able to pose a challenge to you.
Knowledge : Quality Tea Ceremony articles and expertise in Sado
A True Name: You possess your True Name! None can take it from you.
Mana Reaper : Can harvest Mana but requires a tool.
Evolved Flaw:
Always Someone Better - You have a tendency of gloating and enjoying the sight of people you've defeated. But now, only over those who are superior to you in something. You don't indulge against the weak and unworthy.
Past threads: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=villainess 
You politely listen to you friend's concerns. Given all that the two of you have been through you found their fears to be valid although Xin Lan was never one to exaggerate or dance around the point when they were serious. A trait that only served to punctuate what they said as they didn't hide it within a joke or a tease. "Xin, I don't intend to use magic or even want you to attempt to remember what was done to you." You stroke your chin as think about how best to explain your intent. "I don't want to completely cut my emotions out. Hmm..." You pause again. "This new style is supposed to be empathetic. To truly understand their suffering or anger. To that extent I need to be able to ignore everything else. Any anger I have towards them, or fear, or perhaps even doubt. If wanted to use this style then I can't be angry if they're holding you, Ming, or Ren hostage. You're the best at doing that sort of thing and given that you can do it at will, I was hoping you can teach me."
"It seems rather limiting. I mean the reason you're fighting someone is because you're angry at them." Xin Lan points out. "Do you really think you can empathize with say...the guy who destroyed the Library?" You go quiet. You weren't sure about that. You did defeat the ones who were behind that atrocity and even let them live but you couldn't say you did it because you felt bad for them. You're not sure if you could do the same for whoever sent the order out.
"Well, I suppose for now I'd try to use it against those who are simply lost. People who are simply lashing out. I think it's at least worth learning for purpose. Someone who doesn't really want to hurt others but they think they have no other option isn't the same as say a bandit or raider who sees themselves above morality." You explain. Xin Lan might have a point but you'd be glad if you could use it to pacify innocent people at least. Xin Lan tilts their head.
"There's plenty of styles for that. Or you can just hit their Chi points like you always do." They point out.
"Yes, but there's the challenge of it. It's like...writing a whole new story. Or discovering a new medicine. Right now, it's less about it's use but more about making it. We might never find it's true potential but now it exists. Someone else can find it, learn it, and take it to new heights I could never dream of. Just thinking of that...I think it makes it worth it." You eagerly. Xin Lan let's out a sigh before moving to lay on their back with a bit of a struggle.
"You're being weird." They say and you take their tone to indicate they had be placated and their worries assuaged.
"I can't help it." You say. "So can you help?"
"I dunno..." They admit. "You're asking for something weird. To not feel and feel at the same time. You know I don't work like that right?"
"Well then let's just start with not feeling things then. We can work in the other part later. Small steps." 
Megan was trembling in fear, as she and her three guardsmen friends, Flora, Daniel and Gregor entered the large, dimly lit hallway. The four were noticeably injured and anxious, with Flora being carried by Daniel. "G-Guys, I-I can't do this... I-I don't wanna t-tell her we failed. I-I know s-she'll hurt us if we tell her the bad news." Megan said, Gregor sighing in defeat. "We agreed to just tell her the truth. I'm sure that, if we're just honest, she might show some mercy. We just... need to keep calm, okay? Besides, if you run from her, you'll be as good as dead anyway..." Daniel started sobbing already, shaking his head and clearly panicking. "W-Why did have to happen to me... I-I just wanted to do a good job... w-why me..." The four would soon make their way to what used to be a containment chamber, the glass wall leading up to it having been destroyed. Aside from the destruction, the place was eerily clean and well maintained, with electricity allowing the place to be properly illuminated.
And in the remnants of the chamber, upon a large golden throne, sat their queen. Beside the queen sat many anxious guardsmen and a few scientist, some crouching whilst others were clearly on guard. Their queen had her legs crossed, her eyes looking down at the four soldiers who approached anxiously. She kept quiet, as the four would immediately bow in fear. "Y-Your majesty, w-we have failed t-to... c-convince the s-survivors n-near the f-factory of your rule. T-They f-fought back... a-and as you c-can already s-see, we... w-we unfortunately lost a m-man." The queen scoffed, hardly seeming to care as she leaned back a little. "I am already well aware of your co-workers failure. He was shot in the leg and taken in by those non-believers. Of course, I made sure he did not... betray me and my mission." The four guardsmen all looked terrified, knowing what that entailed.
Though soon after, Daniel broke down in front of her, much to the panic of the guardsmen. "P-Please, y-your majesty, h-have mercy! W-We're sorry for f-failing you! W-We will do better, we promise! Please j-just-" The queen would stand up with a soft stomp, before approaching Daniel and grabbing him by the neck. "Did I allow you to speak?" Daniel kept quiet, trembling in fear as the queen would tighten her grip on his neck. "I was going to pardon you, yet you speak out of turn and show your cowardice." She jabbed her fingernails into his flesh, before he moved his hands to her arms to try and get her to stop. Daniel started screaming in agony, the rest of his men looking down or away. Daniel's screams soon turned to gurgles, before a strange fleshy matter would wrap around the queens fingers, seeping into her flesh. She let go of Daniel, who fell to the ground and covered his neck with his hands as his breath sounded raspy and broken. He tried speaking, but no voice came out as he started letting out tears. Come help this talentless and skill-less peasant forge a future, or will you let them fade into obscurity?
What were they again?
Male
Female
This is my first time as QM and I make no promises this is going to be any good or enjoyable! I hope I got the formatting down and haven't already butchered this into oblivion.I will try my best, hope you enjoy! Anon, you, that's right, you have somehow acquired Feyd Rautha's harem of cannibal slave girls (after Feyd Rautha was killed by Paul Atreides). What do?
>Ask for a blowjob.
>Ponder the life choices that have led to this moment.
>........ 
You are Ben Parker, super-powered criminal and thief extraordinaire. After being bitten by a radioactive spider, you underwent a miraculous change, and adopted the identity of "The Huntsman"! But it's not all bad! Your clone brother, Abel Parker, works to protect the city, and potentially help clean up some of your messes. He goes by the name of "Spider-Man"!
Archive:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Max%20Spider%20Quest
Last time: The Huntsman swung over to Central Park and met up with the Morlocks residing there. Shortly after arriving, he ran into Gwen Stacy, a.k.a. "Bastion", and her father, Captain George Stacy, and played a part in introducing them to Gwen's clone, Joy.
They didn't get along at first, but with a bit of persuasion, Joy was willing to sit down and hear her family out.
While that was happening, Ben spent some time with Ester, met up with Glass, and helped the two of them gather the rest of the Central Park mutants in order to discuss their plans going forward. Only, those plans were almost immediately derailed when Screwball crashed the party!
But oddly enough, she actually seems willing to help the Morlocks find their footing here on the surface.
Can she be trusted, or is she simply taking advantage of them in order to gain more clout? How will everyone react to learning that the Morlocks don't have any intention of leaving the park anytime soon? Will Ben ever be able to persuade his team to roll out of bed and help with Screwball's plan?
Find out more in the latest issue of…MAXIMUM SPIDER QUEST!
Rules:
Most dice rolls will be 1d100. Modifiers will be added depending on the situation or on the alien being used(Usually +10 or -10). Crit successes and crit fails apply. Crit fails can be overridden by crit successes, but crit failures cannot override crit successes.
How to Roll:
To roll dice, type “dice+1d100” in the options field without the quotations. To roll dice with positive modifiers, type “dice+1d100+modifier number” in the options field without quotations, and with an actual modifier number. To roll dice with negative modifiers, type “dice+1d100+-modifier number” in the options field without quotations, and with an actual modifier number.
Pastebins:
Character Sheet:
https://pastebin.com/1ZihFYSV
Equipment and Gear:
https://pastebin.com/WAhveFAd
Contacts:
https://pastebin.com/WdcFXD2s
10 Commandments of the Desperados:
https://pastebin.com/Qpr2jVPE
Costumes:
https://pastebin.com/5Jie54X2
The Huntsman’s Travel Guide:
https://pastebin.com/PU6LWsip
Upcoming Events in the Maximum Universe:
https://pastebin.com/DceSEjiR
Good luck and have fun! 
Part 4 has successfully loaded!
Character sheets, shopping lists, and more: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1V0eqo-5JEuUwZ-AODD9jkxGMwEhkvn77?usp=sharing
Archive: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Lodestar:%20Dawn%20of%20a%20New%20Age
Last time, we took control of Val Lasombra as we learned of Gremory's past as the infamous Demon of Water that once terrorized Gaoth's lands with three other demons that were slain. We expanded our understanding of the world upon the reveal of Time and Space magic that Demons could wield through the counterelement of Mana called Soul, and went on a much-needed shopping spree that ended in The Flame of Arcadia undergoing some upgrades at the hand of the Shipwrights Guild that would render it inoperable until complete. Lobo relayed important information on a collection of reliable crewmen available for recruitment around Threespice, and the gang collected valuable blackmail information and loot from Stillwater's caches around the city. Lastly, they set out from the safety of the city to search for a group of independent Eldingarian engineers that were late for their arrival, only to find that they had been attacked by a group of Black Pirates that stranded them.
As we pick up our adventure again, the group is aboard the Skyseer, an intimidating and powerful Gaoth raidship run by Captain Jaghatai. They had negotiated peace with him, and convinced him to hunt down the pirate that felled Aito's ship nearby. As of the moment, the group is learning about the finer details of Gaoth culture, courtesy of Jaghatai's talkative and patriotic nature. For now, though...who will we be playing as this time around?
>Ramza Valentine. You're cocky, charming, and killer with a Mageblade.
>Val Lasombra. You're great with magic, but even better with a pistol. Not one for words, you think actions speak much louder.
>Gigas. You've yet to meet anyone that can best you physically, or resist your infectious cheer. 
You are Kai, a newly minted edgerunner trying to scrape by in Night City. Almost two weeks ago your father, an NCPD netrunner, was murdered under suspicious circumstances during a Cyberpsycho attack on Kabuki Marketplace. You’re out looking for answers. Answers and eddies. Eddies to pay for your several ill mother’s medical expenses, eddies for more gear, eddies for information, eddies for allies. Everything in Night City has a price, and everyone has secrets, especially your family. Dad was an Edgrerunner for decades in secret, and your Mom used to be a big corpo scientist for Biotechnica, running a whole genetic enhancement and cloning project you didn’t even know existed - or that you were a part of - until a few days ago. The only person you can fully trust is yourself… and perhaps Alice (Hlin), the ghostly AI that your netrunner father was working with in secret before they both got attacked on New Year’s Eve. The last couple of weeks have been busy with small jobs for the static Aldecaldo fixer Dakota, both solo and with other edgerunners, and right now you’re recovering from nearly getting flatlined trying to infiltrate a Raffen Shiv subnet. Ouch. You’re still one of the freshest faces around Night City's shadows for now, but all it takes to end that is a single bullet - This line of work is a meat grinder, and runners are the meat.
2076.01.012, 07:15
Night City (Kabuki, your apartment)
Sitting on your apartment’s worn old sofa, you munch on a plate of mind bendingly delicious cookies Vicky baked last night. Real chocolate, baked with care, still fresh enough to be almost gooey it is so soft but not crumbling apart… Maybe you did die during that last run, and this is heaven. Vicky is out handling some early morning biz, she just left a few minutes ago with a vest and her Metel, but you weren’t left alone in enjoying these wonderful baked goods.
You’re never alone anymore.
With every bite you take, Alice savors the flavors and textures as well, a second ghostly sensation radiating throughout your mind as you experience her pleasure at each bite as if it were your own. The cookies are twice as good in this strange gestalt state, and for once you really don’t mind it at all. There are benefits to existing spread between two minds it would seem, when you are acting in accord the intensity of your shared feeling and sensations is… fascinating, if a little worrying still. Your entanglement has deepened after your shared IC induced coma, but you’re determined to find a silver lining to this whole synchronization mess. You are William Daylight. You almost beat the shit out of a random furry, survive getting disemboweled again, convince your landlord to take a bet in exchange for armor, trusted a librarian, finally made plans to look for a druggie, and made plans to jump some gangsters for a bakery girl’s knowledge. All in all a very eventful week of work and progress. 
You are Lorinda de Lindan, princess, weapon autist, and inquisitor-in-training. The last few days have been a whirlwind of violence and revelations after joining the neverending hunt for Strangers. Deadly beings from another dimension, each armed with a personal Cheat Skill that left unattended can cause catastrophic damage to both your kingdom and the world itself. If only you never stepped out of line at the Royal Mageknight Academy then you’d never have to enter under the watchful eyes of the Inquisition.
Currently, you’re on the hunt for a kidnapper in the northern city of Ivern along with your fellow inquisitor-in-training Marie Sarodieu, previously known as Midori Suzuki, by masquerading as helpless maidens. Both so you can help prevent more tragedy from befalling your loyal subjects and so you can acquire more information on the strange Metal Castle that appeared nearby not long ago.
Only time will tell if this endeavor proves fruitful.
Archive: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=The%20Isekai%20Inquisition 
Lucian, once a peasant, has ascended the ranks to become a Grail Knight. Now he must return to Bretonnia, to the Duchy of Mousillon. There the threat of Vampirism, those under the Sway of Nagash, seek to send forth their terror upon Bretonnia.
++The Rules++
>Vote with Greentext, otherwise they probably won’t be accepted.
>Write-ins can be accepted, and might even be used in the final without majority rule.
>If you are going to change your vote, make it so your post only links to the numbers of the previous vote. It's cleaner that way.
>If you mix votes together without modifying them in any way, I reserve the right to employ your top most pick as your vote. Claiming it as a write-in won’t work either unless you modify it to convince me otherwise.
>The aim for rolls is low. Crits override (1’s overrides 100’s)
Archive:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Bretonnia
For the update schedule expect to be semi-daily with the chance I disappear for a week. If something comes up for myself I am placing that before this quest, so that should be kept in mind.
Dramatis Personae
Morr’s Company
Lucian the Durand Grail Knight
Adok Fireskin Runesmith
Tee-Ny-Tyny Mage-Priest of the Heavens
Bok
Satherafax Sun Dragon
Duchy of Bordeleaux
Duke Moriset; Knight of the Realm Duke of Bordeleaux and Regent of Aquitaine
Ducal Prince Gillot; Knight Errant Heir to Bordeleaux
Luquin; Knight of the Realm Court Herald
Robinet; Knight of the Realm Warden
Emelina of Carlton Niece to Duke Moriset
Count Remon Mentor to Lucian
Duchy of Aquitaine
Albera the Golden; Damsel of the Lady; Priestess of the First Chapel
Sir Galandril Grail Knight Warden of the First Chapel and Twin Slayer 
"In the myth, God is Force. In the parable, God is Motion. In the faith, God is the Spark, that which moves all life."
-22nd Hymn of the Omnissiah, Collected M34
A change of fortune diverts you from the cliffs, to a place you never expected to be - the heart of the Omnissiah's worship in Odrev. Once you arrive, though, you find it increasingly difficult to focus on what's literally before you.
---
Read the previous threads at: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=False%20Woman
You possess an amount of Strain equal to your Conditioning score. When attempting actions beyond your current capacity, you gain a point of Strain. Attempting to Strain while at maximum Strain will result in a Strain Check. During a Strain Check, roll 1d10 for every point of the relevant Parameter. Results that are 6 or above count as one success. Results of 10 count as two successes. Three successes must be rolled to avert a critical failure. Fail or pass, after a Strain Check, you cannot Strain again until you restore your Strain by seeking shelter.
This quest allows you to designate a second-choice vote on decisions with three or more options before Write-Ins. When votes are totaled, the option with the least votes for it will be removed, with votes for that option instead being changed to the second-choice of those voters. Second-choice votes are also used to break ties. This helps increase the accuracy of votes, but is not mandatory. Please specifically mark your second-choice as such if you do so.
Vote stay open for a minimum of six hours, but will usually take longer.
A note: It's time. Now don't I look silly for thinking we'd get to that stuff last thread. 
Murderhobo Edition
>What is this?
"The Mystery Dungeons 2e" is a text-based role-playing game created to expand on the setting created by the spinoff series, Pokémon Mystery Dungeon. This has no story relation to the first quest, and is its own new story. Players still isekai themselves into the world and become Pokémon, going on adventures with their newfound guild mates! SFW ONLY
A deeper explanation of rules, related pages, and whatnot can be found here:
https://rentry.org/tmd2many_rules
>I'd like to participate!
Currently, we're at full capacity as far as threads on /qst/ are concerned. However, there's always the chance that space for another player may grow in the future, or that you simply wish to play outside of /qst/ and the quests hosted here. There are other ways to participate, about which you can learn and do here: https://matrix.to/#/#the-mystery-dungeons-2nd-edition:matrix.org
>Okay, now what?
After you've read up and familiarized yourself with the rules and setting, be sure to hop into the Element: https://matrix.to/#/#the-mystery-dungeons-2nd-edition:matrix.org. Everything that doesn't involve Main Quests occurs here and is helpful for coordination.
Character sheets and the guide to making them can be found here: https://rentry.org/tmd2many_characters
If you feel you might need help, feel free to ask!
Previous threads and summaries can be found here:
https://rentry.org/tmd2many_days
Our LIVE main adventures start on Tuesdays/Saturdays around 6:30PM CST in this thread!
Namefag as your character, with your item and level!
e.g. Sparks, Lv. 56 Pikachu
e.g. Sparks L.56 (Sneak Scarf/Team Shock) 
Welcome to Lingdom Quest, a cute and comfy slice-of-life quest about exploring the Lingdom, a kingdom of cute pygmies!
You are Rika, a 15-year-old Ling on a journey with your cousin Kari, friends Bubu and Puki, and fox friend Moochy. You are on your Youthful Journey, a custom among your people where you leave your home to travel across the Lingdom to visit relatives and friends in other villages to help out and learn new skills. The function of the Youthful Journey is also to reconnect you with your wider family and make pleasant Memories.
>What are Lings?
Pygmy humans with large, round ears who live in the Lingdom, a kingdom separated from the rest of the world and under the protection of the Emperor. The Emperor is known as a "Tallie", a human of normal height and normal-shaped and sized ears. Among your people are also "Halfies", individuals with both Ling and Tallie blood who appear like Lings in their childhood but enter a rapid growth spurt in their young adulthood.
>Where did Lings come from?
The Lings claimed to have once been hosted by the Great Turtle where they learned to be good guests. Much of their core values come from their time being the Great Turtle's guests;
>To be neat, tidy, and clean after themselves.
>To eat sparingly so as to not overburn their hosts.
>To reciprocate gifts so as to share Memories.
>Memories
Memories are something of a religious and spiritual concept for Lings. They represent literal memories that an individual holds but also represent their relationships as well as a connection to their wider family (their "people"). It helps bind them all as one people, not only throughout the land but also through time. Ways Lings share their Memories:
>Offering gifts.
>Doing activities together.
>Telling stories.
>Guest-Host Relationship
Lings behave themselves in accordance with the guest-host relationship as they learned from the Great Turtle. A Host must be benevolent and gracious to their guests, and a guest must be respectful and considerate to their hosts. This relationship is also attributed to their understanding of agriculture and politics The land they cultivate is considered their host, but the grain raised from it their guests. The Emperor is a sacred individual who allows Himself to be a guest for the Lings, but still behaves as their Host and protects them from the world beyond.
>Other Cute Ling Things
Lings are known for a variety of cute habits and behaviors. Here's some of them:
>They don't have chairs, preferring to squat or sit on the ground.
>Their cuisine largely consists of hand-held foods, wrapping their meals in either tortillas or leaves.
>They are pescetarian insectivores.
>They prefer sleeping in hammocks over beds.
>They consider leaving things on the floor dirty so most of their possessions are hung on the walls or ceilings (like their hammocks) You are Bol, a schizophrenic gnome with quasi-magical powers.
Today you feel resentful towards your fellow gnomes. What will you do?
>Ignore these hateful feelings
>Act 
You are a PIRATE, the scourge of the Fringe and cursed from Diplo to Bretagne by the cowardly merchants and traders whom you prey upon.
It’s been hundreds of years since the Federation of Sentient Planets was founded, and while the formidable Fleet patrols spacelanes and performs countless interdictions on so-called freebooters, just as many pirate vessels evade blockades and continue to smuggle, slave, and profiteer off of the rest of interstellar civilization in any way they can. Gangsters, muggers, washed-out mercenaries, and the general flotsam of the known galaxy crammed into starships of all kinds, they lack only the romance once associated with the pirates of Old Earth. But perhaps you are different.
The arrogant, domineering ways of the Federation disgusted you, so you deserted from the Fleet and took up life as a corsair. Now you command the mighty vessel Flow My Tears, from which you command a crew of miscellaneous spacers with your executive officer, Shis’so (a spider gestalt).
In our two previous threads, you successfully conducted a raid against a commerce station and commandeered a prize ship. After that, you enjoyed some productive time off picking out new clothes, making connections, selling information, and poaching a retrieval job. You proceeded to the forbidden planet Burn Caladh, entering a Central Service brainship in search of a mysterious, high-value container. Unbeknownst to you, the ship was wide awake and is none too happy with intruders…
———
Hello anons, my deepest apologies for the delay — yours truly was busy finishing some historical research, but is now back in the saddle. Feel free to join in on the action even if you’re a new reader, as I intend to make the quest easy to understand for any newcomers. Here’s hoping it hasn’t been too long since the last thread.
Archive: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Master%20Adept 
Through legitimate or other means, nine vampires from across the globe had acquired the Sanguine Invitation granting them access to Lord Waughann's mansion and its enigmatic rules where the greatest auction would be held across five days. All would seek the most precious artifact in the entire world:
The Primeval Vial of Nakathesep
You were one of those lucky nine vampire, They called you...
>Yeera Ysreth
One of the few pureblooded descendants of Nakathesep. This child was going to claim what was rightfully hers one way or another.
Wealth: 2 Mil. GP
Pros.: Mastery over Critters. Arcane Knowledge
> Mathew Bloodwell
The titular Crimson Baron and the proud owner of 5.4 million human cattle. He bought his way here as expected of a man of his calibre.
Wealth: 20 Million GP
Pros.: Filthy rich, Daily interests
>Catirina Olbev
The Bloody Countess known for her unrivalled beauty and a morbid obsession with immortality.
Wealth: 7 Million GP
Pros: Blood magic, seduction.
> Rekshin O'Shann
An average craftsman born from a line of famous builders. His family had built the Lord's mansion brick by brick. How convenient
Wealth: 500k GP
Pros.: Home advantage, Fixer
>Desdemona Flitchet
A shadowy assassin known for her clean kills, a professional who had never left a trace.
Wealth: 3 Million GP
Pros.: Stealthy, outstanding thief
>Lathan Lake
A self proclaimed thrill seeker who would somehow stumble upon ancient vampire civilizations only to accidently destroy any trace of their existence.
Wealth: 6 Million GP
Pros.: Durable, Lucky Bastard
>Gahronne Bloodjaw
The undisputed champion of all known major pit fights, killed more men and women in the ring than he could count.
Wealth: None ( As a self imposed challenge)
Pros.: Strength, Unable to feel pain.
>Serosil von Edvuun
The brilliant mind behind Ferrnol or synthetic blood. She hopes to claim the vial to assist her in her research
Wealth: 1 Million GP
Pros.: Tinker, Bloodtin guards
>Moongulper
A mysterious man hiding behind a silver mask.
Wealth:??
Pros.: ??
Votes are opened for twelve hours. OH SHIT NIGGA. The world's gonna end or some shit! Time to go help the inexperienced hero to save it! 
... must necessarily concern itself with marriages where the spouses belong to different Standings. Citizens of all stripes may stoop as low as a Subject, so long as the Subject has at least Patent and Nomen. Likewise, a Subject so endowed may take a Subject without such an endowment, so long as their profession, condition or conduct has not rendered them Infamis. Similarly, Subjects without Patent and Nomen, who cannot marry without the knowledge and leave of the Authority whose name they bear, and in some places may even find themselves compelled into marriages by their Authority, are also subject to the Lex Iulia and Papia Poppaea. - regardless if they or their Authority are the one seeking the marriage. Subjects with decency cannot be bound to those without, nor may they ever be bound to a Fearful and Lawful alien, nor a Fearful slave. Subjects in Infamis may be married to a Subject of the same state, or a suitable alien or slave. When two spouses belonging to different Standings are bound, any issue take the Standing of the lesser - with the exception of the Subject in Infamis. In this exceptional case, an alien being both Fearful and Lawful becomes a Subject in Infamis, as do their offspring, while slaves married to these piteous Subjects remain slaves, though the issue will be Subjects in Infamis - and they will not be allowed any avenues of matriculation and naturalization. Attend well that no other pairings with and issue from slaves or aliens are subject to the Lex Iulia or the Papia Poppaea, as they are without wedlock.
Beyond restricting the Sum of the Whole to suitable matches, these laws promote them as well. Those who are not, nor ever have been married, caelibes, may take neither hereditas or legatum that would otherwise be their due, while those who have never been in a union with issue, orbi, are only entitled to half. Such penalties are in force from sixteen until a man achieves the age of sixty or a woman achieves the age of fifty. This is held above the Ius Accrescendi, so that the portion of hereditas voided, being either half or whole, is not divided amongst the other heirs of the testator, but instead is taken by the Authority to which the testator submitted. Voided hereditas may still be calculated into the death duties, though they are commonly waived. Beyond this inducement, there are others, such as Ius Trium Liberorum, which affords particular rights and privileges to Named Subjects and their betters who have produced at least three children. No equivalent instrument, with equivalent rights and privileges exists for those Subjects without Patent and Nomen, though they are still subject to its penalties.
- A passage from Imperatives and Rights, a Treatise for the Named Subject on Lex Iulia and Papia Poppaea, the laws which outline and induce suitable marriages. 
Alas, you are still Nicole Smith, a mentally ill mess of a woman with anomalous abilities. You are a Cleaner, a deniable asset used by massive megacorporations called the Alphabet Companies and anyone else willing to pay you. Such as your Handler, a member of a powerful family who hands you most of your jobs. Mostly so you can clean up messes for him.
The last week has been rough to your psyche and sense of wellbeing. During your tour of an X-Corp military base, you managed to awaken a deep and primordial part of your psyche in the form of antlers growing out of your fucking head. Luckily, you managed to finish the mission by solidifying a deal between E, Q, and X-Corp.
After hanging out with some allies, restocking your supplies, and connecting with corporate representatives, you then spent a solid week at sea. With what? To assist the Captain on it with any and all tasks during the voyage. This so happened to include hunting down an X5 anomaly, one of the most dangerous types of anomalies, called the Admiral's Game.
You managed to hunt down the Admiral's ship and bested him in a game of chess, earning his respect before he passed away. You think. You can't really tell with anomalies this powerful but you swear he's dead. You then managed to reconnect with two of your allies, Maruyama and Kiara, and hung out with them to decompress after your last mission. You noticed that Maruyama had a spark of potential that might blossom into something powerful if you nurtured it.
Your latest mission, which you have just currently started, is hunting down a member of a powerful corporate family by the name of Valentina Vanni. You were tasked with heading down to Abgrund, a small mining town in a section of W-Corp's district, to find out what happened to her. You caught a glimpse of three powerful Alphabet Company administrators on your way in who are also hunting down for her. Things might get hectic if you're not careful.
Though, that's how it is in the City. The only place you've ever truly known. Such a vast and endless stretch of streets, buildings, districts and companies, there's apparently a doppelganger of you out there as well. What her plan is, you don't know.
Your plan? You just want to survive. For you and your allies to be safe. No matter how much blood it takes.
ARCHIVE: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Cleaner
PASTEBINS:
MAIN CHARACTER SHEET (has your stats + perks + abilities): https://pastebin.com/3y638TfK
ALLIES (contains their stats, abilities, recruitment costs, and RAPPORT): https://pastebin.com/8gdVZBPe
MECHANICS (contains the explanation of stats, how stat checks work, and some other minor rules): https://pastebin.com/A9nLYWP6
INVENTORY (contains your items, consumables, weapons, etc.): https://pastebin.com/n0MH6M17
CITY INFO (General information about the Alphabet Companies and other notable entities): https://pastebin.com/ZP2JN7mT 
With the Supreme Kai of Time Chronoa dethroned, the Demon God Dumplin beaten, and Karn's whole family now able to live in his timeline, things have been looking up for the Saiyan General. But all good things can't last forever. And when conflicts arise between deities, mortals are inevitably caught in the crossfire. Does Karn, the Berserker God possess the strength to protect his family, people, world and reality from their fickle nature? Or are the beings above mortal ken also beyond mortal reproach? This outcome may be up to you.
You the players control Karn, wielder of the mighty Berserker Soul. Granting him the power to fight against gods and other divine beings, to resist their influence and strengths. From his lowly beginnings as a Saiyan Brawler with a sub-3000 powerlevel in Age 733, only a few years into his time as a member of the PTO, he has now become the strongest Saiyan of his time. With the power of the Berserker God, combined with That Which Should Not Be and having devoured a soul born of the Abyss itself, his strength is now unlike anything before seen in his reality. But will this newfound strength be enough to overcome the threats headed his way? Only time will tell, your choices can spell the difference between success and failure.
Character sheets and other info:
https://controlc.com/46ec566d
https://pastebin.com/u/GrandDragonQM
Archive:
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=Saiyan+Conqueror+Quest
Help fund quest art commissions and get exclusive side stories as well as artwork here: https://www.patreon.com/GrandDragonQM
Quest rules are as follows(unless otherwise noted):
>30 minute vote times
>Pick ONLY ONE option when voting
>Dice rolls are all best of first three correctly-rolled dice
>One dice roll per person per post unless three players have not yet rolled, and ten minutes has passed since your previous roll
>Crits are 100 on a d100(a 99 or paired rolls may net you an extra bonus)
>Crit fails are a 1/100 with no passing rolls, or if two 1s are rolled regardless of the third
>Write-ins are both allowed and encouraged, but OOC options will be ignored
>If your goal is simply to troll, at least put in enough effort to make it funny
>Have fun
SCQ will usually start on Saturdays at noon Eastern Standard Time, and run throughout the weekend. Also, for updates or schedule changes you can find me on twitter @GrandDragonQM, which I keep as up to date with any scheduling changes as soon as possible.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8EAhFZQWCr8
THE FICKLE GODS You are Hass Takar, the Supreme Ruler of the Hegemony. It is the Year 102 of the Resurrection Era. You now stand on Jaxt, the home planet of your empire, the Hegemony. Standing before you are about a hundred Jaxtians, some of the best and brightest in the empire, who look at you bright eyed and expectant.
You raise your hand and backing music begins to play. Without skipping a beat, the Jaxtians raise their voices, and join to sing your Anthem.
https://jmp.sh/s/MNfcnegX92OuFV1thabd 
Rolled 2, 5, 1 = 8 (3d6)
The world of Remnant is a vast and dangerous place. Horrendous creatures known as Grimm roam the land, destroying everything in their path, rending the flesh and devouring almost any kind of living being unfortunate enough to meet them.
Fortunately, humanity is not completely defenseless. Certain people are born with particularly powerful souls, granting them extraordinary abilities. When these abilities are honed they can evolve into Semblances, unique type of abilities that grant the user with powerful powers that work similarly to magic (Most of the time). These people have formed many groups across the many continents of Remnant, being known as Huntsmen and Huntresses.
However, not all of these people wish to save the innocent or destroy the Grimm. In fact, some of them use their powers for self gain and take advantage of the chaos of the world. There are even rumours that some of these Huntsmen are secretly working for someone behind the curtains, an evil force that wishes to destroy all living beings on the planet for unknown means.
But one may arise and change things. For the worse? For the better? Only the future has eyes for what is about to come.
Who are you?
>Name?
>Gender?
>Race? (Human, Faunus, etc)
Also pastebin: https://pastebin.com/5hFQZtc3 and testing some random dice 
Welcome back.
Rules are simple: Votes are tallied every hour, with whatever course of action being the most popular being the course of action taken. Write ins are encouraged and non-mutually exclusive votes will be combined if possible.
When a roll is called for, roll however many D100 are specified. 5- is a 'crit fail' and generally means something bad is about to happen. 95+ is a 'crit success' and generally means something good just happened. a 'crit success' trumps a crit fail. User input on both will be taken into consideration.
Inventory, pokemon stats and other links: https://docs.google.com/document/d/15i2N08IpWqitoTJujsUMishe4PLbao1lqT-bCAmvPcE/edit
Discord: https://discord.gg/GGXeMEMj
For a short summary for the new and to recap:
You are Alex. A newly minted trainer and camping enthusiast just starting out on your journey at the age of seventeen after your father lost his job in order to help pay the bills. On the road, you met Fie, the Fire Gym Leader, Gareth a novice Aura Guardian on pilgrimage and Holly, a runaway heiress using a pseudonym. You've also made enemies of Team Green a group of violent, radical activists looking to abolish pokemon training.
Recently, Fie returned to her gym for the time being.
Last thread, Volta evolved, stopped a guy harrassing Martha, had dinner with everyone else and decided that you'd go to Genesis Cave next instead of Galeport so Gareth can continue his pilgrimage. Martha elected to accompany you owing to her broken arm. 
Your name is David "Gunny" Rockefeller, no relation.
A veteran of the united states marine corps, you find yourself in a far-out situation after an all-too-close encounter of the third kind!
In the last thread you unlocked Redbone's psychic potential, made an example out of a federal agent by dumping him outside the ISS and tracked down one of your old friends.
However, the government also made contact with you, and made clear they're both aware of and concerned by your presence.
Intending to stay on relatively good terms with them, you offered to clear things up by sharing some basic information and keeping in contact.
With your time on earth close to wrapping up, there's not much left to do before heading back into space. Will everything go according to plan, or will there be a hitch?
Find out this time, on Humanity Fuck Yeah!
>Last Thread: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2024/5943919/
>All Threads: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=humanity+-+fuck+yeah%21
>Google Doc: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1rNxD6ccWY5M48dLWuTWdr5LiYLuS_YIAMKlTLw42eeo/edit#gid=0
>Discord Link: https://discord.gg/PYJ7Aa3zQF 
It is the year 0078 of the Universal Century. A half century has passed since the earth began moving its burgeoning population into gigantic orbiting space colonies. A new home for mankind, where people are born and raised… and die.
“We are the people of the universe. We have struggled to survive in a harsh environment, and new generations of colonists testify to our success. Now, when we gaze back at Earth, we see a sacred blue and green orb - the cradle of civilization and a sacred home that we must eternally preserve and protect . . .”
-Zeon Zum Deikun, UC 0058
—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
16:15, 9th December UC 0077
Zeon Military Academy on Guardian Banchi, Side Three (Republic of Zeon)
Crisp cool air greets you as the hermetic seals of the airlock hiss open. The wrapping blue and green vistas of Guardian Banchi’s cylindrical interior, a quintessential close-type O’Neill colony, stretch out far before you. Mountains and lakes, valleys and forests, the interior of the colony cylinder have been molded carefully to match many of Earth’s environments.
You stand at a secured exit of the colony’s Earth Federation controlled spaceport. All around you are edifices devoted to maintaining that distant government’s control over not only the people of Zeon, or Spacenoids, but all of mankind. White and gray concrete military structures stand interspersed about the small city wrapping around the spaceport’s connection to the colony, a constant reminder not only of the Federation’s political supremacy over what should be Zeon’s truly sovereign territory, but also of the jackbooted force by which they maintain that supremacy. 
You managed to build a happy family far away from most of the magical happenings that could hurt you and your children's. Nowhere is truly safe, even in your newfound home in Russia, but you think the worst is finally over.
You decided to go on a vacation into your old nameless town, both as a way to unwind and to help find out more about your magic's memories. Unfortunately, Etsy's rightful fear of the U.S agency did make the travel pretty costly, but what's the point of money if you aren't spending it after all.
Your old house has all but been ransacked after you left. You did manage to sell it, but the buyer turned out to be part of the agency, and you presume they tried to find anything that you or Etsy would've left behind they could use. As far as you know they didn't find anything, so it's not really your problem. You end up staying at a pretty expensive hotel, it used to belong to Mona, but the town didn't have any place to stay that didn't belong to her, and since she's dead, her magic is all but gone from it. Your old apartment is also of course not an option, as it was wiped out long ago by the Sword of Dusk in order to spite the U.S agency.
Your kids are pretty happy that they get to stay in a luxurious place like this, although Anastasia does complain a lot about how she'd rather have stayed home. Etsy is still a little paranoid, constantly looking out the curtains of your room as if a man in black was going to suddenly attack you.
You are a little worried yourself, but your kids have all been given a tag that tracks where they are, so even if something happens to them, K.I.S.A will be able to rush to them in an instant-- A literal instant, borderline teleportation level speed, you're not sure how it works, but apparently tri-matter has some very funky applications when it's stretched over long distances. Etsy tried to explain to you how it works, but you didn't understand a word she said, you don't think even she knows how it works herself.
Anyway, with safety out of the way, you can finally relax. What should you do during your vacation?
(You can vote for two options. You will search for Arachne's remaining memories, in addition to the two most popular votes.)
>Look into Mia's dissapearence
>Visit your old house
>Go to a theme park with the kids
>Wander the town to see how much changed
>Let one of your kid pick an activity (specify which one)
>Write in 
https://starwarsintrocreator.kassellabs.io/#!/ENqx6VLm9928xBAC5FUH
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...
STAR WARS
AGAINST THE REPUBLIC
War has engulfed the GALACTIC REPUBLIC
With the pyrrhic victory of the GRAND ARMY at GEONOSIS, the CLONE WARS have truly begun. Republic forces find themselves vastly outnumbered in space and on the ground, as despite the massive influx of CLONE TROOPERS, the industrial capacity of the CONFEDERACY OF INDEPENDENT SYSTEMS remains unassailable.
After the battle, hundreds of thousands of solar systems declared independence from the Republic, swayed by the impossibly persuasive COUNT DOOKU.
Even the JEDI ORDER has found itself fractured, a hundred JEDI KNIGHTS have invoked their Right of Denial, opting to stay out of the conflict entirely, while a handful have found themselves seduced by Dooku, though not all by the allure of the DARK SIDE…
=====
Welcome to Star Wars: Against the Republic. This quest will, as the name implies, take place during the Clone Wars. This quest will be basically entirely Legends (i.e. from the old EU) with very little if anything taken from the canon outside the movies. Yes, this includes the 2008 The Clone Wars cartoon, which is impossible to fit into the Legends continuity. Darth Maul is dead, barring anything unforeseen, Anakin Skywalker will remain a Padawan until the middle of the war, Mandalore is CIS-aligned and is not a pacifist monarchy, Nightsisters are a minority on Dathomir which as minimal contact with the Galaxy at large, Asajj Ventress is a Rattataki, and General Grievous is both a master strategist and a serious personal threat, etc.
This thread will probably be shorter and just wrap up the Krant Campaign/Hunt for the Decimator. Don't expect a follow-up immediately after because the worst dreck in all of nuWars is about to drop and I don't want to have any reason to be wiki diving when it does.
Previous threads:
Thread 1: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2024/5853066/
Thread 2a: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2024/5929453/
Feel free to ask questions and clarifications below. With that out of the way, let's get started. You are the most feared Warlord of the Seven peaks, the small woman infront of you informs you in a hushed tone. This seems true, judging from the leatherclad psychos braying what is ostensably your name - oh, and the flayed skulls.
This is strange, because 30 minutes ago you left work - an office job, boring - went into a normal doctors office for extremely minor surgery. Now you're the leader of the "ExecuKillers" according to the woman (who also informed you she's your concubine).
"So... Lord of Skulls..." You frown, and she smiles slightly. "Sorry, Nigel. Right. So..." she looks over her shoulder at the tent-flap, beyond which you can hear the drums of war and bellowing hores of warriros - your warrirors, now.
"This, uh, incident... well, bad timing. The Execukillers are about to go to war with the Bloodletters... and you need to rile them up. Quickly, too, because everyone's ready to leave."
[Continued below.] The year is 2444. Much of mankind has abandoned a ruined Earth to live in space colonies. The countries on Earth have corresponding colonies just outside the planet's atmosphere. Rather than fight wars for political and social dominance, the colonies agree to hold a M.I.L.F Olympics every four years. Each country sends to Earth a representative, piloting a highly advanced Mechanized Infantry Land Frame, or M.I.L.F for short. Due to an oversight in the M.I.L.F Pilot recruitment program you have been recruited as Mexico's' only Pilot. With your 3rd generation mining M.I.L.F "Tequila Sunrise" you must defend your countries honor! First things first, what is your M.I.L.F best at?
>Speed!
>Strength!
>Mining? You float about the void, a wasted carcass of white flesh and bleached bones. A slug relentlessly clutches to your remains as you bare yourself to the motherly embrace of the cold black nothing.
You’re submerged in the loving abyss, the parasite your only tether. This is your birthright, revel in it. Feel.
You feel
You are
> Alone
>Watched INGREDIENTS
-Imp tail (E)
-Greenwell Potatos (D)
-Sickle Herring (D)
-Darkbloom Mushrooms (E)
-Mystery Meat (?)
-Rockshell Tomato (C)
-Bilehound Slab (E)
-Leadborn Peas (B)
EXTRA
-Eastwind Spices (E)
-Salt (D)
-Pepper (D)
-Diluted slime (C)
-3 magical pots (can cook anything in any conceivable way)
-3 hungry adventurers headed for The bone forest to kill THE NECROMANCER (D)
-Histy ( Female,Ranger,elf, vegetarian), Dezrin ( Male,Human, Warrior, iron stomach), Eliea (Female,Human Priestess, snobby)
-You Homunculus, You cook.
-Dish= 2 INGREDIENTS + 1 EXTRA ( Optional)
-low intelligence, need experience to grow.
-unknown information about ingredients, need to cook
>C O O K (1 dish per person, quality of food increases with more description) 
This is a Toriko fan quest, taking place after the manga/anime ended.
The world is in the Second Gourmet Age and you are Sterling Pister a student in his final year at Gourmet Hunter Academy.
Alright, your final assignment, which is necessary to graduate, is as you all you know the so called Graduation Full Course. This means that you need to come up with and hunt a full course meal using the ingredients available to this school. As a reminder anyone who successfully captures an ingredient with a Capture Level of 3 will be injected with gourmet cells, though I only recommend doing this if you're confident in your abilities. [/green.]
The moment your teacher is done with his speech you look at the form on your desk. There are of course eight courses in a full course menu and you had a good idea of what you wanted to go for, but the highest capture level is 2. Even your Main Course has a Capture Level of 1.
You have no doubt that your planned full course menu is good enough to let you graduate as is but should you keep it or try to go for the Gourmet cells? Of course as Gourmet Hunter you will get Gourmet Cells eventually just by eating delicious food but that way it can take a while. As you think it over you decide to at least fill in what you're already sure of.
*Hors d'Oeuvre: Almond Cabbage (CL less than 1)
*Soup: Rock River Soup (CL 1)
*Fish Dish: Garlick Crab (CL 2)
*Meat Dish: Bacon Leaves (CL 2)
*Main Course:
*Salad: Golden Carrots ( CL less than 1)
*Dessert: Cakeshroom (Cl less than 1)
*Drink: Stalactite Milk (CL 1)
What should you do for your main course?
> Original choice: Barbecue Pig (CL 1)
> Change it: Winged Buffalo (CL3) 
A narrative evo game. Pick a creature, make a single iterative change to it that helps it to adapt to its environment.
Your creations may antagonize other player's creatures, defend themselves, adapt to an environment, or meet change through periodic "evolution table" events.
1. Always save your picture as a .png, and never use a soft edged painting tool. This allows other players to easily edit your creation should they wish, and lets less experienced people without developed artistic skill join in.
2. Any player can edit any creature. If two players edit the same creature that creates a split in the evolutionary line, which is great for biodiversity.
3. If a shitpost emerges, instead of complaining, try to herd it full circle back to plausibility. It's fun.
--------
The Cast:
The titular Ramel, a sort of warm blooded repto-insect with a blade on it's face and tail. An omnivore with a preference for delecious ragas berries or the occasional bord. Stupid, territorial, and asocial. A patrician choice for a sensible player.
The noble Ragas. A semi mobile plant that reproduces via berries. A mild acidic secretion allows it to break down soil for maximum extraction of nutrition, as well as any tough carrion, or incapacitated organisms it comes across.
The VILE Bord. Clearly a fucking bird with the audacity to be named bord. The Bord are more intelligent than the Ramel and will steal berries, or as a pack, attempt to take down the Ramel. Only a sick fuck would evolve this creature.
The Setting:
Borgas Alter 1: A near idyllic planet, with only three organisms.
Endless rolling hills and flatlands with a balmy, if humid environment are all that exist at this time. The closest it comes to rain is the morning and evening fogs, with no seasons. There are other, lesser, organisms, but pay them no heed. By the authority vested in you through the Law On the Administration of Special Military Districts under the Ministry of Defense, you, Lieutenant Colonel Gennady Nasirovich Liptsov, are the sole and final established authority on civil and military matters within Gordon District. All decisions there are ultimately yours to make.
Since arriving in Gordon, you have made it your main priority to establish contact with the security forces stationed in the region. You now command the 7th Glorian Internal Ministry Company, encamped at a local high school, and are searching for radio equipment that would enable you to contact the 216th Independent Motorized Rifle Battalion, stationed somewhere in the distant countryside north of Vadim-Tepe. Archive: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Disappearing%20Hogwarts
Character Sheets: https://pastebin.com/mTYzU5uL
Twitter: https://twitter.com/head_qm
--
In the last thread you:
> Got shot at with blanks by Harry Potter
> Snuck into St. Mungo’s and discovered who were the hosts of Rowena Ravenclaw and Godric Gryffindor
> Found the entrance to Avalon and discovered you’d need all three Deathly Hallows to open it before Salazar broke through it
> Discovered that the Beast is actually Merin, fragmented beyond recovery
> Discovered the Fifth Founder was also Merlin, in a different body
> Joined forces with Brighton, put Godric into his head, and Rowena on Raven’s
> Learned the Dark Mark from a crazy Death Eater
> Cast the Dark Mark to distract Potter while your allies stole the Elder Wand and the Cloak of Invisibility
> Opened up Avalon and defeated Nimue, the Lady of the Lake of Rot
And now… 
This story is about a young man working hard to make a living.
What is his occupation? (Choose one)
>1: Farmer. Strong muscles makes tilling the earth easier. (STR+)
>2: Thief. Nimble hands means easier pocketchange. (DEX+)
>3: Doctor. Smart mind finds the cure. (INT+)
>4: Musician. Silver tongue pleases the crowds. (CHA+)
>5: Write in. (Define which stat this would increase)
One night while the young man sleeps tight in his bed after a long days work, something strange happens to him...
What is that strange thing? (Choose one)
>A: A burgler tries to steal from his room.
>B: Wild and vivid dreams of adventure occupy his night.
>C: The moonlight slips through his window, bathing him in mystical light.
>D: A bee flies into his mouth, and down into his stomach.
>E: Write in
Welcome to Powerlvler quest! Here we play as a weak nobody, which might end up pretty strong sometime in the future!
Stats work like this:
STRength is increased by performing physically demanding tasks. Strength passively increases charisma.
AGIlity is increased by performing tasks requiring precision and speed. Agility passively increases strenght
INTelligence is increased by performing mentally demanding tasks. Intelligence passively increases agility
CHArisma is increased by performing social tasks. Charisma passively increases intelligence
CONstitution is increased by taking damage of any kind and recovering succesfully. Constitution passively increases every other stat slightly
Some wounds (physical or mental) can reduce constitution permanently
There may also be other stats, but we will get to them when they are relevant
Pictures may or may not be included in some of my posts. Sing, goddess, of thirsty Argos, and of the glory of Hippomedon Aristomachides - sing of the folly of Adrastus, of the savagery of Tydeus and of Oedipal transgressions! Sing, O Muse, of Zeus’ designs, which even now come to fulfillment… In times past, giants walked the earth. Now, they shall awaken and walk again.
The first nuclear weapon detonated in 1945, showering the earth in radiation that had gone unseen for millions of years. The opening of Pandora's Box led to countless explosions, twice against man, and many more in barren deserts and oceanic depths. As the crust of the planet became charged with energy once more, ancient things began to stir.
You play as one of these creatures: A young Kaiju, awakened by radiation and ready to feed on it. As one of many who are emerging into existence, the time has come for you and your ilk to reclaim your rightful place as the rulers of Earth. You're a stick with a witches hat. Your name is Mazela. You're a queen of the witches forest.
>Stick around
>Become a bigger stick
>Grow other stick parts
>Other 
Previous chapters: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Heretic%20Cultivator%20Quest
MC info Pastebin: https://pastebin.com/x5rCdZpq
Sect/ disciple info Doc: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1A0Yghkqs4WxALnnlVJ2uPpphQk9NQ4ME32DzC1qWp7Q/edit?usp=sharing
Folklore: https://pastebin.com/AnbsrDcd
_
You are Huanliuxue (欢流血, Happy Bloodshed/ Happy to Shed Blood), She who touched and dyed the moon red, the rightful ruler of and most impressive amongst all beasts, the heir to the primordial throne of true primordial nobility, an popular amateur writer, the founder and first and current grand master of the palace of natural laws sect (宫殿的野生彝宪, Gōngdiàndīyěshēngyíxiàn) and creator of the cultivation technique following the dao of ghosts and grudges, there heretical art of the Ruler of the Great Wheel's Law(统治者的这重大轮回法律, Tǒngzhìzhědīzhèzhòngdàlúnhuífǎl), and you are also the rightful monarch of the kingdom of the buried army of those who dared oppose the order of the heavens, the aggressors and only victims of the bloodless war, a kingdom of graves, tombs and quiet catacombs filled to brim with vengeful spirits, hungry ghosts and ancient warriors turned phantom calamities.
However, the king who has lost his name and been forgotten by all outside of his cursed followers and soldiers trapped beneath the now split mountain you claimed and marked as your own years ago, still holds most of the lands of one of your rightful domain. And while it is but one of the many kingdoms and titles that are rightfully yours, the forgotten king and his toadies have earned your ire and enmity through all the wrongs they have committed against you and yours. They tried to attack you while you were in deep meditation and refining the ghostly essence saturating the tomb kingdom, and during your student's valiant defense of your cultivation chamber, one of those brute's cursed one of poor Qiang's eyes, forcing her to tear it out herself! And since everyone, men and beast alike, mistake her for your daughter, you may as well pay them back for that injury as if she truly was from a litter of yours! And that isn't to mention the insults the governor of his that you've been using like a caged canary and footstool has spat your way. And still is. Even though Yin Zhao has been your prisoner for quite some time, he hasn't once wept or wailed pathetically with the other loyalists you keep caged to sing you pretty and sorrowful songs while you hold court and appease your subjects by alleviating the agony of their wretched and cursed existence trapped here beneath the earth. Not quite in hell, but certainly not alive.
Subjects who are now braying and barking for "blood" and vengeance, the fury they feel towards their former leader for getting them trapped in this sorry state driving them all into a frenzy, even those who are usually cool headed, composed and mostly sane after the long centuries confined here by the heavens' spite.
Cont 
>>5970571
>Art: Dan Mora
>Alt-Text: Comic cover of The Riddler in the foreground. In the background, cut out newspaper letters spell “Riddle Me This” while Superman and Batman leap into action in front of a maze.
Batman: Superman! You have to fight it!
Ivy: The sun doesn’t fight. It feeds.
Clark starts glowing as a field of flowers spawns in a ring around him. The parks shudder and flexes, the ground itself pulsating.
Batman: You are stronger than this! Stronger than most people! You landed on a world of hate and violence and chose to make it better. It doesn’t matter if she’s sapping your energy. Your real power is your will!
Your ally grits his teeth, Failsafe buzzes in your ear about magnetic waves but it doesn't have to bother. You can taste electricity in the air. Leaves rustle, but this is no wind.
Sfx: SBOOOMMSHH!!
Clark bursts from the vines into the sky, the shockwave knocking you free from the lichen that was trapping you.
Ivy: No!
Ivy summons a swarm of vines. You ready your defenses-
Sfx: CRASH!
And Clark lands, knocking the thorny vines aside.
Superman: If you use your plants on us again, Doctor. I will burn them.
His eyes glow, and Ivy'd vines sprout thorns.
Ivy: Insolent flesh!
Batman: Something’s wrong. Ivy isn’t herself
Ivy: We are better than ever.
Batman: Doctor! You’re too brilliant to try to force us to do something we’d do willingly. Whoever’s in there with you clearly doesn't know us. Or know you.
Ivy: The mammal lies! The mammal lies! Previous thread: >>5952601
The weird thing that came out of the wall can talk. It tells you that she was just in a room like this, and asks you where she is. 
The great hosts of chaos marched towards Karag Dum. Thousands, tens of thousands made their way towards the ancient ruins of a proud dwarven bastion that had held out for so long. Its cannons had roared, its mithril clad warriors had cut and hewn and cleaved and shot the warriors of chaos. Its forges churned out endless suits of armor, countless weapons, endless stockpiles of bolts. Its mighty walls, placed atop a lone mountain domineered over the landscape, the towers seeming to pierce the very sky and disturb the gods above. And for that, it had to fall. The dwarves fought, and yet, they had fallen to the hordes of chaos. Despoiled, ravaged, raped, as all lands ought to be, sooner or later.
You had never seen the Karag before. And now, only crumbled ruins remained. Maybe, the next time you visit it, it won’t be so far in the future, for the crumbled walls and broken towers more remind you of the rotten jaws of a warhound than of a proud bastion overrun by brave soldiers of Chaos.
As you crest the bleak ocher hill, you see what you long expected. Beneath a burning orange sky, a gathering of armies, warbands and hosts. Spitting on the ground and uttering a oath, then continue forwards, order your host to make camp while you head for the centre of the gathering, towards the lone tent overlooking the countless hordes.
As soon as you step in front of the tent and try peering inside, you feel a shove from behind. Tumbling forwards and already drawing your weapon out, you turn to strike at your assailant, but to no avail, as you fall through the tent flaps, which close shut behind you. A cleave at them leaves your blade harmlessly bouncing from the magical cloth. A rough chuckle emerges from behind you.
“Another one!” A Hung chief laughs. “Settle in friend. We all wait long.”
A quick scan of the massive tent reveals a impressive gathering of warlords, chiefs and champions, of Kurgan, Hung and Beastmen types, all eyeing each other with doubt, suspicion and spite. Yet, all keep their weapons by their belts. They must have been here for long in order to have relaxed so much in such company. A moment of thinking later, you choose to follow their lead, but keeping your gaze on a bestigor with a head crowned with 3 pairs of horns.
You think of speaking to the mob, yet before you can, a female voice booms in the room. “You won’t wait for any more.”
In a flash of motion, every blade is drawn and more than twice that many eyes are anxiously glancing around the tent.
“A whispering on the steppes had called you all here.” The strange cloaked figure spoke as it appeared in the center.
Within a moment, the champions and warlords and reaves and warriors all surrounded the figure, distrustful of each other, but afraid of the figure that just appeared between them.
“I called you here.” The figure continued, concealed by the dancing shadows too thick to be natural. “I called you here so that you may wage war upon the southlands.” 
"Wake up." You open your eyes to the familiar, yet always somewhat imposing, stone walls of your room in Blackthorn Keep. Your name is Caden Blackthorn, the eldest son and heir of Lord Edric Blackthorn and his dear wife Lady Agatha. At fourteen, the weight of your future responsibilities as the lord of Blackthorn Keep already presses on your shoulders, a constant, if not entirely unwelcome, companion.
The morning sun barely filters through the narrow window, casting long shadows that dance across the floor. You rise, the cool stone beneath your feet a stark contrast to the warmth of the bed you reluctantly leave behind.
Today, unlike most days filled with the rigorous studies and training expected of a lord's heir, promises a brief respite. It's the day of the Autumn Festival, a day when the entire keep and the surrounding villages come alive with music, laughter, and the scent of fresh harvests.
>A) A strange sense of déjà vu washes over you, leaving you with the eerie feeling that this moment has unfolded before.
>B) Fragments of a half-forgotten dream flash through your mind, hinting at terrible things on the horizon.
>C) Memories of another life, filled with a decade of pain and heartbreaks, the adventures of a prodigal son, flood your consciousness vividly.
>D) Your mind is clear, with a focus solely on the present, unburdened by the past. You're a modern Western man who was transported to 1600's Japan. What isekai powers did you get?
>High stats
>Save scumming
>Other Your name is WALTER HARTWELL WHITE. You have just woken up after your 50TH birthday. It's time to go to the hospital. 
One day, while searching the woods for a sparrow to crack with your pocket of stones, you come across a small cave at the base of a mossy hill. It smells like wet stone inside but as you venture deeper, you get whiffs of an odor like the one that hangs over the village cemetery on dry summer days.
It is then you see it. There is a man sitting against the cave wall, his legs outstretched. Sleeping, you think. The light from the mouth of cave is not enough to make out his face and hailing him does not rouse him from his slumber. You inch closer. A rusty gauntlet glints from his hand, resting just above his knees. You reach out to shake his shoulder and small mouse jumps out from his head and runs into the darkness making you yelp and jump back. You can make out now a white skull, picked clean of all flesh, and masses of cobwebs in the hollows. A cruel black arrow sticks out from the man's belly. He is most certainly not sleeping.
In the other hand, you see a leather scabbard clutched close to the chest. It is with a great effort that you wrench it from the chewed fingers. It is covered in dust and smells vaguely of rat droppings, but the blade inside, when you draw it out, is as sharp and shiny as the day it was forged. You've never seen anything so fine.
>What do you do?
[ ] Show the blade to your father, it'll surely fetch a fair price at the market, and your family will be glad for the coin.
[ ] Hide the blade inside your tunic and present it to the old watchman, Delaney Halfhand. Perhaps he'll teach you how to use it.
[ ] Wear the sword on your back and swagger triumphantly to the village well, showing it off to the other boys. You can't wait to see the green in Thomas Bishop's eyes!
[ ] Other 
Old Maple Hill. That’s what they call it, mostly because that’s what you called it, and even then only because it is centered around... Well, a small hill, with an old maple tree, and you were a child, and you never thought it would be the center of an entire community.
Funny how things change.
Your name is Ezreal Mious Van Houtzmann. ‘Mious’ means ‘wisdom’ in the language of your mother's people, the Sylvan Elves of Dappulyet, whom you may never see or visit again; you can only hope she got your last letter, before you fled your homeland in the pursuit of world peace and personal freedom (it’s a long story). “Van Houztmann” is your human father’s surname... Well, sort of. He was born merely ‘Rudolfo Houtzman’, and seems to have added the ‘van’ and the extra ‘n’ as some form of dramatic flourish. You adopted it much later. It means ‘of the strong men’. Despite all your hereditary strength and wisdom, however, sometimes you feel like a leaf on the wind—a summoned wind, a night-wind, generated by the beating of great wings beating in the unseen dark.
Under your stewardship—and that of Izirina and Costella Fanucci, the women whom you love—Old Maple Hill became first a sort of sanctuary and rehabilitation center for those humans of Hawksong—the world’s preeminent metropolis—who had been afflicted by the chimeric plague better known as ‘the dragon-pox'. As a reward for your good works, your trio was granted the hill itself and the land around it was gifted to you in trust, to preserve and protect in the name of the fairy court upon that eponymous hill. After a year-and-a-half abroad—first in homeland and then upon the sacred moon itself!—you returned with divine knowledge of the holy arcane, to share with those grateful and newly-sorcerous subjects of Hawksong who had decided to remain there. Partly this was out of pride, and out of solidarity with Izzy and Costella, and partly due to a sense of responsibility for what you had wrought.
More and more, though, you wonder if you really had any say at all...
Almost four months ago, you undertook a diplomatic expedition to the Sylvan Realms to rescue the monstrous son of Hawksong’s prince Cosnort—secretly some form of ‘aragonborn antipaladin’ in service to the Gods of Darkness. You hadn’t done this out of any love for those horrid entities, or even the Prince Consort or her majesty Queen Ekaterine, but because you believed it the best way to keep the peace between your peoples.
You’d succeeded, but at a great cost. You're Mazela, the queen of the witches. You live in a hut standing on chicken legs deep in the forest and use your psychic powers to defend women who have been abused by men. Today the miller's wife has come to you with a black eye. "My husband beats me when he is drunk," she cries about her abusive husband. How do you help her?
>>Grant her psychic powers to enslave her abusive husband.
>>Teach her a curse to kill her abusive husband so she can find someone better.
>>Write In >After many moons, the Narrator returns from actions which would make the most homo of fags tremble.
>The Narrator, that amorphous blight, will not divulge into this further. Spinel's world has enough faggotrous activities at present.
>GRAPE FLAVOUR is back and has undergone slight mutation in how to play.
>GUIDELINES;
>Players will submit suggestions they'd like to see!
>Narrator will choose ONE suggestion out of all sent to guide the direction of the quest.
>Narrator may take handful of suggestions at any time to present for a vote to decide how we progress.
>You are currently Spinel and last we saw you had been presented some options....
https://archived.moe/qst/thread/5707323
>Dig yourself a hole and crawl into it in the feral position
>Was there any cool and strange technology Pink Diamond left behind? Go press some buttons
>What will you do? 
The tides of history have called upon the line of Marik once more to remove an imposter from our country’s throne. I call upon all patriots, at home or abroad, and ask that they rise against the Empress. So with iron and blood, we may reclaim our future from the hands of a mad despot. So that their children, and their children’s children can live in a secure, safe world.
-Jaime Marik, Patriot’s Address
The Ferrum Empire has descended into Civil War. The weapons built to subjugate the world and decisively crush their neighbors are instead turned inwards.
You are one of those weapons. Beta Core, an Artificial Intelligence built to operate the Empire’s most advanced mech frames against their enemies in tandem with a human pilot. Only together with a pilot, can you move the frame, merging the raw processing power and reflexes of an AI with the knowledge and restraint of a human.
This mission, your pilot is a teenager named Sophie.
You, along with your AI sister Delta, currently are operating for the Patriots. Your other sister, Gamma, is presumably operating for the Loyalists, but you are uncertain of her whereabouts.
Prior threads can be found at:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Core%20of%20Steel%20Quest
—-----
For a bit more background, General Marik, architect of the Patriots, has swiftly marched his primary forces of Army Group South north to the Empire’s capital of Victoria in an attempt to capture the Empress and end the fighting before Loyalist reinforcements arrive, and before the snowstorm grounding the Imperial Air Arm blows over.
If he fails to do so, his cause is lost before it even begins as functional supply lines, raw numbers, and air power take their toll.
Beta and Sophie were dispatched to eliminate one source of Loyalist reinforcements from the Tsang Tsun Military Academy by killing the leadership there.
Assistance has been granted in the form of Headhunter, a foreign pilot and machine from the until-recently hostile Tamar Alliance, who is on station to provide close support when called for.
A raging blizzard has also aided his task, making stealth protocols more effective than otherwise expected.
Already, you’ve penetrated through multiple defensive patrol routes, and obtained codes from one of those patrols to appear as just another friendly mech. The Eternal Empire has stood for 14 millennia and has endured hundreds of wars, calamities, and rulers of every type. As the Reaver Clans have been forced to yield, the first generation of House Heinrich's rule begins to pass from living memory.
Though Emperor Otto's reign reaches near its final days, it is not yet finished. Only time will tell what his legacy will be.
>Previous Threads
>https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Simple%20Space%20Empire 
>In the name of all that is evil and unjust!
You are Carrie Cross and you've spent your whole life giving to the world without anything to show for it. Well it's about time you think... to take some back! You're done playing nice and by the rules, so why not start breaking them and playing nasty? Growing up with Saturday morning shows and your enduring obsession with them, will surely pay off now!
And perhaps paid off a little too well... to avoid some of the heat from your growing infamy, you've decided to skip town for awhile and take a little vacation down to sunny Miami!
>While you're here, you'll need a place to stay! Someplace nice but modest and out of the way should be fine.
>This is a vacation so you want to stay at the most luxurious place you possibly can!
>While here, besides relaxing you also had a mind towards some villainy, so a downtown location is preferable.
>...perhaps there's a branch of the secret society here? If you dare to stay with them, you know they'll accommodate you well. 
You are Mouse, the ogre. Although raised by humans you found yourself in service of the dark elven queen - and with her blessing you have embarked on a quest to purge the corruption plaguing the very world you live in.
You are not alone. Your mission is shared by an eclectic band of companions:
-Phineous, the sophisticated orc of culture.
-Smutkin, the formerly depraved bard who took your mission for his own
-Sparky, the formerly warped imp that was, by touch of holy power, transformed into something else
-Tithe, the diminutive yet vigilant gargoyle
-Chloe, the shadow of the queen sent to safeguard you and your mission.
Your band has since grown with additions no less colorful:
-Elle, the royal courier who has since sworn herself to your quest
-Harriet and Janet, the twin scouts you've rescued from the mercenaries
-Diana and Minerva, twin golems you've freed from their questionable service to the old order
-Her majesty queen Olga Discordia, the dark elf ruler turned exile after the Beast possessed her minions into mutiny
-Mercenary princess, Maia, seeking to confront the man she loved
-And quite literally in spirit, a fragment(?) of the goddess Laurentia you had wrestled from the clutches of darkness (and in doing so, likely forced the enemy's hand to the desperation he was showing...)
And on top of that, a group of thirteen penitent mercenary men, turned into unholy abominations by a dark ritual, but purged of its taint when Sparky healed them. They seemed earnest about their intent to atone for atrocities they had committed even with their lives, prompting you to bring them along so that they get their chance.
You were drawing close to your goal, having entered the misty wetlands that were, if you remembered the topography correctly from your maps and dreams alike, the final stretch you needed to navigate before reaching the mythical lost city of Atlassia, and in any case a major locus of power of the cult of the Beast.
Powerful adversary was waiting ahead.
But you were not without help, either.
Be it your bond with your companions, powers of light channeled by Laurentia, or your own dedication to that spark of light bequeathed to you by your parents, you made it through the swamp into shelter of a hidden grove that formed itself before your eyes, as a gift of respite.
One you were happy to partake in. And so, presently, you found yourself drifting off into the realm of dreams... 
In a country on the cusp of war there exists two sides. The country of Westalis and Ostania, many people live their lives attempting to keep peace and prevent an all out war from taking the two countries once again.
You are one such person. You've seen the way society was ravaged by war. So you've sworn your life to protect it. The only question is...
How exactly are you protecting it?
> An agent of WISE, Working from the country of Westalis and keeping the peace. (The Same organization as Loid Forger and Fiona Frost)
> A member of The Garden an illustrious and secret assassin Organization, who work for a shadow government to take out traitors(Same organization as Yor Forger)
> A member of the State Security Service an organization dedicated to torturing and interrogating Westalis spies(Same organization as Yuri Briar)
> A Renegade/Mercenary operating on your own morals and beliefs with no true allegiance simply trying to prevent war.
_
Welcome to Spy x Family quest! This is something I decided to run to potentially gauge interest in any sort of Spy x Family quest. If I see there isn't much activity. I'll leave it as a one-shot, if not we can keep it going! The smell of rotting synth-meat and stale kibble forces you conscious. It's dark, and as your hands grope around the pitch blackness, it's wet. You attempt to stand, and a resounding crash happens as you whack your head on metal.
The pain forces memories back into your head, the shooting, the car chase, hiding in this very dumpster... and who you are...
1: Corporate Netrunner. Raised in a training facility, the net's a second home to you, and you know your way around it better than meatspace.
2: MedTek Dropout. You used to be trauma team, now you're... whoever pays best. Couldn't keep up with the constantly raising deadlines and demands. Burnt you out.
3: Classic Solo. You were born out on the streets, grew up fighting. You were good enough to make a living out of it.
4: [Write-in!] 
