THE DARING CONTINUATION OF JERKCITY VOLUME ON EPISODE IV: A NEW DONG (DIRECTOR'S CUT REDUX REVISED

YOU are SPIGOT, useless dope head extraordinaire, on a mission to uh..

Shit was was it?

It was late in the afternoon, as staff were starting to wrap up testing, check-ups and other activities in the deeper parts of the facility. However, whilst most subjects were being brought back to their containment, this was not the case for Kaenum. In fact, she was currently following Catherine to a place she hadn't visited before. "So, who are you bringing me to?" Kaenum asked calmly, looking around and noticing that there were a few guardsmen around, which made her both curious and concerned. "Her name is Edith Astor. Codename, PW-87. I designed her with Roraima. However, after she refused to do what Roraima demanded of her, he... punished her." Catherine said in a regretful tone, Kaenum giving an understanding nod. "I fortunately managed to take full control of her, ensuring Roraima doesn't hurt her further. Unfortunately, she has been rather scarred by the experience. Which is why I was hoping that you could help her out. Perhaps give her some therapy to help her cope with things."

Whilst Kaenum was saddened that a subject had to suffer so much under Roraima, she was optimistic that she could help out here. After all, she had trained quite a bit when it came to therapy, and knew that she could help anyone out with enough time. "Of course, Catherine. I'd gladly help out." Kaenum responded, Catherine smiling with relief, as the two headed towards the secluded and relatively well-guarded chamber. Until finally, the two would reach the large set of doors leading to the chamber. "Will you be joining me?" Kaenum asked to Catherine, who paused before reluctantly shaking her head. "I want this to be between you and her. I've talked with her a bit, but... I could not get her to talk much. She needs someone else. Another subject..." Kaenum nodded again, taking a deep breath before looking ahead. "Very well then." With that, Catherine would give a nod to the nearby guardsmen, before taking a step back.

Kaenum stepped through the door after it opened, entering the small space which separated the outside world from the containment chamber. Though once the second set of doors opened, Kaenum was met with a rather neat and homely looking room. Clearly, Catherine had tried o decorate the room in such a way that it helped Edith feel more at home. Though, given how things looked eerily untouched, it had not been too effective. Not to mention, the fact that Edith wasn't really doing anything in the room. Kaenum spotted her in the corner, sitting on the floor and facing the wall. "Go away..." Edith mumbled in a worn-down voice, Kaenum remaining calm and quietly entering the room. Kaenum looked over the subject, quickly noticing all the combat features Roraima had clearly given her. Those large and long wings, those clawed hands and her stature all were traits meant to appear intimidating. And yet, Edith appeared more sombre than scary. "Edith, it's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Kaenum. I am here to talk to you."

Welcome to /qtg/, a place to talk about quests.
Previous thread
>>6271040

>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/dZavHuK
>Skirmish discord: https://discord.com/invite/DZCVvVU
>Evo Game discord: https://discord.gg/xGZAX9tAvx
>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 (doesn't work in OP)

>QM Question:
If you allow write-ins, what are the best and worst you've ever gotten that received votes? How often do you get write-ins better than your actual options? If you don't allow write-ins, why not? Would you ever consider it?

>Player Question:
How much do you take in-quest discussion into your vote? Do you just show up and vote? What would get you to engage with quests more if you don't already?

>General Question:
How would you get more voters to engage with quests other than just voting? Have you ever done an in-quest event for your players? If so, what?

>Lurker Question:
There is no question, vote.

>Miscellaneous Question:
Any big plans for the last part of the year? Get anything big done over the summer?

Reawaken, O great one, thy time has come at last once more. Long left scorned and forgotten, you have not forgotten the heroes who laid low both you, your fortresses, and your dominion. Now you shall rise from the ashes, reclaim your power and reign supreme once again. Let your enemies tremble at the mere mention of your name, for you are the true ruler of this land and all lands beyond it.

Alas! For it has been too long; while the darkness has kept you safe like a cloak, it has also made you forget. Time and the dark have gnawed at you for too long. For while your trick with placing your spirit within a container might have prevented your demise, it also eroded and disembodied you.

A shrivelled shadow you thus became, ignorant of yourself. Ignorant of form, ignorant of name, what scarce memories you did have of your past mostly addressed you as 'lord' or 'master'. None dared speak it, not before your personage at the very least.

Yet you were great and powerful once, the terror of a hundred kings. Sacker of a thousand cities, master of untold legions and hordes of both disciplined blackguards and savage barbarians.
Others saw you as a god incarnate, or at the very least the high priest of a very cruel and demanding god, who was to be appeased with tributes of gold, silver and manpower. Yes, lesser princes, khans and chieftains willingly kowtowed and fought over your ever-fickle favour.

But all of that is gone now, scattered to the wind; your empire fell with you. No servant could ever keep it together. As you lay dying, you made your last desperate gambit. You transferred your soul out of your dying body and into an object.

Oh, it was a brilliant plan, an exit for just such a scenario. But you hadn't foreseen the consequences. It was long, too long, far too long for you to be able to do anything; you withered and diminished. Seething and crying until your spirit lost the ability to form a coherent face. Was this it? Would you spend an eternity in silent suffering? Forgotten and tormented by a world that had moved on from your greatness?

Perhaps not so, for as you lay in your diminished state, you watched from one of the gemstones, which were like windows, set within the object which you had chosen.
Choose an option.
Jewellery
>A ring
>A necklace
>A bracelet
Weapons
>A mace
>A sword
>An axe
Miscellaneous
>A grimoire
>A chalice
>A staff

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…

Last time, the highly anticipated return of the Kingdom of Coziness is here. Its newer two residents are your queen (Lydie) and your maid (Kushi)! The comfy lands (Beth’s bed) are being enjoyed together under the stars (a tent in the backyard). You’re feasting together with cake and tea!

“As requested, esteemed Chef Ando.” Kushi hands over a big tray with all the items you asked for.

“Please, serve yourself some. There’s cake aplenty.” You’re a magnanimous king. Your goods are the Kingdom’s goods. “As I said, join us!”

“Very well.” Kushi doesn’t mind eating even more cake, better with you by her side. The entire group is on the bed now.

“Dear Maid, you implied there’s something that you want from my precious gem no matter what. Pray tell?” Lydie doesn’t forget any details.

“Look at how I’m dressed for five seconds, and take a guess. Even if I prefer if you don’t.” Maid Kushi is a little upset to explain as she covers herself with her arms. “You want to embarrass me even more, don’t you?”

“No, no, no! I want to learn more about you. Beauty is expressed in different ways, and I want to learn yours. You’ve been a revelation so far!” Lydie doesn’t mean anything bad by it.

“Only he can fulfill this role.” Kushi refuses to say more.

“Don’t underestimate me! I bring love, glory, and beauty wherever I go!” Lydie’s spirit can’t be dominated! “Limits are records for me to surpass!”

“Perhaps I overestimated your… intelligence.” Maid Kushi believes her attire isn’t enough of a telling sign anymore.

“Eat, my maidens. No need to chat when I’m about to come up with a new request.” You play again with your phantom beard.

There are no limits for you either… Tiny Kata (A Cake Fairy, don’t ask about it) says as much… Remember, you’re showing these girls’ qualities to Lydie!

What do you do?

>You’re getting curious, is there something Lydie wouldn’t do? Ask to do something she thinks is inappropriate for you. Remember, she has a warped sense of the world, so she could do anything...
>Ask Kushi what she wants you to provide, and do it if you can!
>Let Kata lovingly take control of the situation and make an example out of these two! She’s gonna tease them lots.
>Let the girls use Nina as the softest cuddlebug they can have! Add more comfy to the Comfy Kingdom. The teacher will love them back…
>Have Sally pamper Lydie so much her brain can only think about wanting more. Have her become a maid who will help Kushi too!
>Have Beth dominate Lydie and Kushi’s senses with love. She’ll make them follow all her orders…
>Have Liu be the most cutesy girl around! Lovingly tease her together!
>Write In.

Welcome to Knights of Nothing. For those of you who were part of “The Testament of Tatamu” quest a few years ago, this takes place in the same post-apocalyptic universe, albeit closer to the beginning of the timeline. The setting errs closer towards hard(er) science fiction.

For those who don’t know me, I’m Kaz, and I’ve been a QM since the last few years back when quests were still on /tg/ before we made the jump. My last active quest was “Star Wars – Interregnum”. For those familiar with me, it’s been a long time. Sorry for disappearing without any warning. Long and short of it was a mixture of burnout, writer’s block, and IRL/day job getting in the way of things.

In any event, I’m back in a limited capacity. I’m back in trade school and doing irregular contract work, which leaves a creative-sized hole in my chest. So I’m writing once more, with the goal of trying to do 1-2 updates per day. For those waiting for Interregnum, it’s coming soon(TM). My block was really starting to show towards the end of the last thread, and I need to square the circular peg on either fixing it or wiping part of the slate clean.

The mechanics of this quest draw heavily from the Fantasy Flight Games Genesys narrative dice system, albeit modified and changed for questing format, which is the same system that Interregnum uses.

Now, without further ado…

==============

The world stopped, then began anew.

>>Location: Unknown
>>Date: Unknown

The burden of consciousness is abruptly forced upon you – sudden and without any warning.

Your first breath is a wet, choking sputter that catches in your throat. Something thick and viscous coats the inside of your esophagus, nearly strangling you from the inside. Each attempt at inhaling or expelling only makes it worse, every aborted retch an aborted reminder that your body has seemingly turned against you.

Panic surges before rational thought can catch up. Adrenaline sears away the last remnants of a dreamless sleep, burning away a mental fog clouding your mind until only the rawest survival instinct remains, and a painful hyper-awareness of your immediate surroundings.

And then you feel them – cold, conforming walls pressing against your body, smooth and pliant, firm and unyielding as they conform to your panicked thrashing. Your hands slap against a curved surface only mere inches away from your face. The realization shoots through you like ice in your veins.

You are enclosed.

Entombed.

Trapped.

(cont.)

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

Your name is Vincent Cruz. You work in a shady government-backed facility in the middle of the New Mexico desert. By all accounts, you are still a complete and total nobody.

You've spent the last five days struggling to survive in this new world. Your new job now involves studying and researching various anomalous entities in order to make money for the Abnormality Regulation Coalition (also known as ARC).

Somehow you've managed to do a good job over the last five days, despite having no formal experience being a researcher. It's been a struggle to get adjusted to everything but you're shocked at how good of a job you've been doing.

You suppose it's not your first time dealing with anomalous entities. You have vague memories of this chained, bleeding heart that you encountered in the past. You don't know why but you feel like that thing is watching you. You're not sure why it's so interested in you, you're a nobody after all.

Maybe that's part of the reason ARC dragged you off the streets? Who knows. Nothing about your new job makes that much sense.

As for a recap of what happened, you just finished your latest shift. You had to fight for your life against a heavily armed man who wanted you dead. You managed to beat him thanks to sheer dumb luck and in the process, you're earnt the mild respect of some of your coworkers. The rest of the day went over pretty smoothly, all things considered.

You also met two new weirdos, Moxxie and Edward, who might be trustworthy enough to hire in the future. You need as many friends as you can in a place like this. Even if most of the 'friends' you have here are way too weird for your liking.

You owe Colt a favor now after you got him drunk because of an experiment. You need to find a way to get some rifle ammo for his gun. That'll be a headache to deal with but you do owe it to him.

You're now ready to start another day. To face the music, to endure whatever ARC throws your way. All you can really do is to find a way to keep surviving. Day after day, week after week, month after month. This is your new life now, whether you like it or not.

Oh well. You're a wageslave, all you really know at this point is work. You might as well do a good job while you're stuck here, right? There's not really any other path for a husk like you. Haaa.

ARCHIVE: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Low%20Rung
VINCENT SHEET/INVENTORY: https://rentry.co/VINCENTSHEET
ALLIES: https://rentry.co/COWORKERLIST
ANOMALY NOTES: https://rentry.co/RESEARCHNOTES

It has been millennia since humanity became a star faring race. Enough time for stellar regimes to have risen and fallen, for technologies to be forgotten and relearned and for a diaspora of life; both human and alien to spread across the galaxy.

The Raihan Empire is but one splinter of the human diaspora. At its height the Empire spanned eight star systems but eventually corruption and decay set in. The Empire collapsed, its great works crumbled, its worlds became isolated. For a thousand years it was so…

Until a new warlord arose on Raiha, one that managed to quell the disparate factions fighting over the Throne world. When all his enemies were vanquished he marched upon the palace district where the remnants of the Imperial family cowered. However, instead of seizing the throne for himself Arcturus Garan pledged himself and his army to the service of the remaining Empress and took the title of Lord Commander.

Together the Empress and Lord Commander began the process of rebuilding the Empire, first securing the home system, then bringing each of the wayward colonies back into the fold.

Five out of the original eight colonies have been absorbed back into the resurgent Empire. Only the systems of Noto, Higg and Kornen actively resist annexation. Together they have formed the NKH Defence Pact, or simply the Pact.

Now the Pact must guard its independence against the growing might of the New Raihan Empire. The odds are not in their favour, they are outnumbered and outgunned, but the Imperial Forces have not yet regained their full power and the war is not over yet…

((This quest is an indirect sequel to Space shipyard quest, knowledge of previous threads is not required but it will do much to add context. Previous threads can be found here: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=space+shipyard))

Ilvermorny Quest returns after IRL issues! More cute Witches with guns, a destiny, and violence in abundance!


OOC: I have been having health issues as well as family health ones. I am sorry. This is not dead, and during the time I felt okay, I ended up with a mega update. Will try to get back to 2-3 smaller updates a week depending on player count.

I am doing a rentry for the opening recap, so I don't need two separate posts for it.


Recap: https://rentry.co/dtibhta7


Archive link: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=ilvermorny


>Non-canon lewd-fic: https://rentry.co/4iehi5w8


>The time Emily got banned from the internet: https://rentry.co/68e94bro


>What-if which may end up canon: https://rentry.co/d7qyhmm6


>New character sheet: https://rentry.co/rkzzoee5


To HeadQM? The epilogue was very nice if yu are reading this. To Kektus, I need to see if a new thread is up for your game since I haven't been here in a couple of weeks; keep up the good work! Thank anyone still checking this out. And to the rest? Feel free to vote some of these up. Getting to green for thread one made my night, lol.


So? Let's rock and Magic!

You are a thrall, a slave, bonded to the house of the Chieftain of this village in order to pay off your late uncle's debts, under whose scornful eye and ready hand you had been formerly raised.

Though the debts are formidable, your labors these past seven years have diminished them to the point where a release seems no longer impossible. You cannot claim that it was by your diligence alone that this was accomplished; the Chieftain's generosity also played a substantial part. He took you into his own home, to serve as a companion for his only son, and has always dealt fairly with you as he does with all his subordinates. Indeed, he seems more eager to see you freed from bondage than perhaps even yourself. And it is that sentiment, along with a hundred other kindnesses he has shown you during your time of service, that compels you to remain with his house, even after your freedom is achieved.

It is an outcome not entirely unwanted by the Chieftain either, for your service has revealed the possession of certain worthy talents.
>You have a natural genius for sword-skill. A quickness of eye and hand that are unmatched in the village, which you have developed into a kind of preternatural sixth sense for danger.
>You have a gift for making others feel at ease. Your good looks and skill as a raconteur are contributing factors, but it is your naturally sunny disposition that charms all who meet you.
>You have a prodigious gift for symbols, figures, and other abstractions. Your sense of measure is especially keen, making you an ideal craftsman, shipbuilder, or even sailor

You are Tristain d’Rusalka, a noble from the United Kingdom of Fodlan born with unique abilities bestowed upon you by the Goddess. You have journeyed across the sea to the desert kingdom of Morfis after receiving an invitation to join a mysterious competition. Though you know little of the trials that lie ahead, the winner of this contest has been promised the hand of Morfis’ Princess, Yulia Xan Phanes, in marriage. Seeking adventures, thrills, and battles that would be worthy of your might, you embarked on this strange voyage with nothing but your trusted axe.

The competition for Princess Yulia’s hand has finally begun! Its first stage saw you and your rivals forced to fight through a horde of violent prisoners in order to reach the fabled Tower of Illusion. Teaming up with two of your foreign counterparts, you cleared the goal and were able to advance to the second stage, where a written exam on kingly matters awaited you. You were forced to put your axe aside and rely on your intellect and knowledge to tackle this trial.

With the second stage completed, you now await your grading, and the impending third stage, which promises to be your most rigorous challenge yet.

>Tristain d’Rusalka
>Level 38 Wyvern Lord (EXP: 0/100)
HP: 72/72 (130%)
Strength: 38 (75%)
Magic: 32 (50%)
Speed: 28 (40%)
Defense: 31 (70%)
Resistance: 25 (50%)
Luck: 28 (65%)

>Skill: Resolve (When HP falls to less than 35%, Strength, Speed and Defense increase by 7)
>Dragon-kin Wyvern (SPD based chance for Fionn to launch an ice attack, dealing ½ MAG Damage.)

>Weapons: Silver Axe (+16 ATK), Bolt Axe (+14 ATK, Ranged, Targets RES) Hammer (+8 ATK, 3x DMG vs Armor Knights), Devil Axe (+21 ATK, -20 HP when Used) Iron Bow (+6 ATK),

>Spells:
Fire (+3 ATK, 5 Uses)
Elfire (+7 ATK, 3 Uses)
Wind (+3 ATK, 5 Uses, 3x DMG vs Flying, 5 Uses)
Sacred Fire: (+12 ATK, 3x dmg vs. Terrors. 5 Uses.)

>Abilities:
Crest of Indech: You are able to make a follow-up attack on one foe, regardless of Speed. (4 Charges)
Crest of Macuil: Double the damage of a magic spell. (3 Charges)
Combat Art: Earthsplitter: Cleave all enemies standing two rows in front of you. (Cost: 1 Crest of Indech Charge)
Combat Art: Throw: (Toss your weapon at an enemy and return it to your hand. Ranged attack.) (1 Crest of Indech Charge)
Combat Art: Hit and Run: (Perform an attack that allows you to dodge the next harmful attack. Increases SPD by +7 for 1 turn. Costs 2 Crest of Indech Charges)

>Items: Concoction x5 (+20 HP), Light Rune x2

>Gold: 1800

>Tristain’s Party: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1mrlj-c7Oe51qIoat3LJfDSv0Bw2nmExQT2EqlKlWPGw/edit?usp=sharing

>Combat Rules:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1m_UvIqCmBRzmrlu0mvttVkGRRI8bIkT6iTTrDR_J5zo/edit?usp=sharing

>Archive: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Sorcerer%20Kingdom

It is nearing a year since you, The Courier, fought and secured independence of the Mojave from domestic and foreign powers. Mr. House was put on ice, the NCR got sent packing and even the mighty Legion tucked tail and fled back East.

Now, the New Vegas Directorate, your new government, faces as many challenges as it does opportunities. Industry is rapidly expanding and agriculture is now firmly established while migrants from around the wasteland flood in looking to change their fortunes.

But the Boomer Blight, an engineered plague from parts unknown, is spreading throughout the Wasteland and little looks uncontainable. You continue to walk the line in courting both the NCR and the Legion, seeking to be a stable power between the two warring giants.

A new player comes into the picture and he brings with him hundreds of Enclave descendants eager to start again. You have agreed to welcome them into the NVD but time will tell if you can hide their influence from the NCR while keeping other factions happy.

With the looming NCR election, the hostile President Kimball seems poised to lose to the unknown Allgood Murphy while Caesar continues to see you as his Augustus, urging greater cooperation between both nations.

The one-year anniversary is rapidly approaching and while a grand celebration is planned, existential threats lurk everywhere and with Mr. House on the loose, you can be sure you’ll see him one last time.

This is the end of the world. It's also the birth of a new one, or an old one, depending on who you ask. Maybe it's more like an overdue arranged marriage.

You might not have been fully aware, but the world used to cast a Shadow: a separate realm of spirits, kept away by a barrier that only a certain few were ever meant to cross. Spirits are capricious, rarely logical, and often dangerous beings composed of the essence and energy of all things real; scuttling reflections with their own arcane hierarchies and motivations.

But every wall has its rats, and the barrier between your world and the spirit world was no exception. The Beshilu are a nasty manner of demon - derived from and connected to the spirit world, but fettered to the world of flesh, and gifted with many terrible abilities. They massacre and they multiply, and their only desire has ever been to tear down that wall between worlds... to gnaw at its foundations in greater and greater numbers, until the wolves could no longer keep them at bay.

They succeeded.

Too many tears. Too many crumbling wounds between worlds. The gauntlet was sundered, and when that wall crumbled away, the world of mortals and the world of spirits were merged into one. In those first terrible moments, everyone on Earth could hear a trillion shrill voices screeching out in triumph, and swarms of rats swelled across streets and forests in writhing tides.

The fabric of reality is now like a sieve, the threads wavering apart and stretching in new directions; space and time operate differently. The sun no longer rises, or sets, and light instead seems to meander from one place to the next according to whim. Places seem to stir and shift, reacting to their occupants in sometimes unpredictable fashion. The rules have changed, and will likely change more, but things will never go back to the way they were.

That was three days ago, and it would be a stretch to say the dust has settled, but you are adjusting to the chaos. You're a survivor, and while you may not fully grasp what's going on, you're not unfamiliar with the supernatural. You are determined to knuckle down and make your way in this fucked up new world....

>Cont'd

Monday
Grid Sector 11873, Defensive Position "Razorback"

The Bradley 1A5 kept firing with it's auto-cannon at the incoming target. One of it's tracks, the left one, was damaged. The rack of guided missiles had been emptied days ago and there hadn't been the chance to refill them.

Quartermaster "Godmother" was inside the basement of a ruined house, missing it's second floor and portions of the first. The structure of plywood would provide minimal protection or cover, which was why he was underground.

Beside him was Jack Price, the Engineer from MARS Incorporated, now a Lieutenant in what remained of the Armed Forces.

Finally, if he was still alive, was Capt. Harry Grand from the Air Force.
-
-
In the basement was a Javelin guided missile, loaded, but with no available reloads. There was also MARS MPAR, a laser guided upgrade of the FGM-172A SRAW project. That system and a single reload were bundled together. Both would require firing from outside or the precarious top floor.

The other explosive options were the drum fed, six shot 40mm Milkor MGL.... OR three disposable AT-4ERs.

There was closed crates that may or may not have additional supplies, but the three of them didn't know how to operate that many weapons outside the rocket launchers and a basic M16A4.

There was the blowtorch and Quik Patch case, if Jack wanted to try repairing the Bradley.

Grand Zen-Oh, the omni king and ruler of the omniverse has declared there will be a massive tournament to be held in his honor. A grand affair between several universes, each battling it out for the very right to exist. And at the forefront of this grand spectacle will be the Saiyans of Universe 7, who Grand Zen-Oh has grown fond of watching battle. Twenty eight years ago, the Saiyan race were annexed into the PTO as just another race, one of many sent to conquer other worlds. Now, the Saiyans are widely regarded as the strongest warrior race in the entire Seventh Universe, defenders of the PTO led by their strongest, the “Dragon of New Salda” General Karn and his family.

You the players will (most often) control Karn. A man who has grown from his lowly beginnings as a Saiyan Brawler with a sub-3000 powerlevel in Age 733 to become not only the strongest Saiyan of his time at AGE 759, but also personal friend to the former emperor Lord Freeza, father to well over a dozen powerful and unique children, a mentor and teacher to his fellow Saiyans, and the best hope for his universe's continued survival. No one warrior can hope to battle eight other universes' strongest fighters alone and hope to prevail, one man's power and skill won't be enough to overcome the looming threat of extermination. But this coming battle will be the ultimate test of how you've lived your life until now, the choices you made not only for yourself, but for the fate of your entire universe.


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 by joining the patreon for only $1/month at 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 three correctly-rolled dice
>At ten minutes past your previous roll, and there are not yet enough rolls, you may roll an additional roll
>Crits are 100 on a d100
>99s or paired rolls may net you extra bonuses
>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 also find me on twitter @GrandDragonQM, which I keep as up to date with any scheduling changes.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j61ts42E2Ms


UNIVERSAL SURVIVAL

THE MONSTER KING ROARS!

A hundred years ago, during a GREAT WAR, Maou, THE MONSTER KING, has been defeated and sealed away by human HEROES. For a hundred years, he was biding his time, and recovering his strengh.

During that time, MONSTERS didn't dissapear from the world, but with MONSTER KING sealed, a person would need to be exceptionaly evil to transform. Places with evil aura can also spawn monsters on it's own! But not often. And with monster population low, the HEROES could always beat them back.

But now THE MONSTER KING stirs in his prison. He releases his power into the world in a terryfying roar! Humans who's heart is black on the inside, the ones harboring EVIL within them, cannot withstand the call of their inner monster, and by the power of MONSTER KING'S ROAR they transform!

“The Southlands.” That’s what the races of the Northwest call them, as if they were one place—a realm unified under a single nation or people. In truth, the Southlands are a molten mosaic of humans, beastmen, and sundry others flowing over and through each other in coexistence and in conflict. The land itself is a tapestry of desert and jungle, of low savannah and high plateau, where even the Race of Man is far from uniform: the hides of the humans here range from a ruddy tan to a deep blue-black that nearly equals the Drow of Wevenore.

Not that you got to see much of it.

You are James Efron, Senior Initiate of the Hawksong Mages’ Tower. At your age—twenty-three—you really ought to be a Mage Apprentice. You should be studying in some stuffy laboratory back home in the big city like Izirina Henzler, or maybe taking a practicum under some smaller adjunct Associate Tower like your old pal Testa. But nooo, you craved a life of action, of adventure! ‘<Fireball> is meant for the field!’ you used to boast of your favourite spell. So you’d taken the field, first as a formal Field Researcher and then later as a freelance adventurer-for-hire.

And that had led you here. To the Southlands. To this dungeon.

It isn’t the cool kind of dungeon, full of monsters to kite and <Chain Lightning> for coin, alas. It’s the kind where Southrons store their prisoners-of-war, for that seems to be the size of your sad situation: a prisoner, at the beginnings of what is shaping up to be a full-scale intercivilizational conflict.

The Men of the South may be myriad, but tensions between their ilk and the fairer folk of the Northwest—your homeland, Hawksong’s aegis—have been a unifying cause as of late, and not only for the human races. Relations have been fraying since before you were born, when a sinister cabal of dark-skinned demon-worshippers staged a terrorist attack on the Mages’ Tower itself, assassinating the Archmage and destroying the much-beloved Eternal Fountain.

Totemists, one of the first lines of defense against the malicious and monstrous, famed slayers of Behemoths which are perhaps the most dangerous examples of such, and bridge to the domains of spirits and magic unseen. The role is not an easy one of course, but it must be done and has been since time before almost all written history.

You are Capran, young man of the Four Peaks mountains, pupil of Oranya Skystrike.

There has been a lot of unrest on the mountain slopes lately, the issue growing further with each day it seems, but with your teacher still guiding you, there will always be a way to deal with it the trouble.

Such as this post mimic, which stands on thin wood-splinter-like legs and angrily spears them into the ground beneath it at the failure of its ambush. You stand nearby your teacher and her friend Heyra, ready and willing to destroy this mimic.

Awful thing. You're rather happy you three are the one who found it rather than some poor patrol guard or villager.

>Cont

You are Marnie, an unwilling resident of City 87-O. After years of putting up with a stifling existence, you've finally managed to carve out a potential path to freedom. Thanks to the actions of you, your Digimon, and your allies, a way out of this digital ark is finally coming into sight.

After training hard, carrying out arduous missions, and defeating several powerful foes, your partner, Phascomon, has unlocked his Ultimate-stage Digivolution: Astamon. Only a few steps remain before you can ascend The Tower, enter the portal at its pinnacle, and make your way into the real world, where you can finally see the sights that have eluded you all your life.

Since your last excursion into the depths of a data center, you’ve been taking it easy at home, watching the news near-constantly while waiting for bots to bust down your door. Fortunately, no such thing seems to be incoming. The raid on the scanning facility has gone unreported, thanks to the lack of public-facing damage, and the city-sanctioned media has no reason to broadcast their own attempt to take you and your allies down.

==

Thread 1:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6216903/

Thread 2:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6254189

you play as Argia Candente, a trainee Paladin of Ansàrra cursed since birth with silver hair. Now in your darkest hour, you try to understand whether your own Goddess has forsaken you, if your life is truly forfeit and if the Adversary’s offer has any merits…

# # # # # #

Welcome to the seventh thread of Argia Candente’s thrilling adventures! Our scatterbrained, silver-haired (sporting a D-cup, by player vote) Holy Knight-trainee with a penchant for daydreaming and plagued by self-doubt, on a quest to save her family from poverty and starvation.

>Admitted you can survive the next twelve hours, that is.

Now with the added thrill of you having been denounced as agent of the Adversary, your Master imprisoned, being separated from two of your friends, and the turncoat third one… has just birthed a world-ending Worm.

On top of that, you have been seemingly abandoned by the Sun-Birther, the goddess Ansàrra… and the Saint you have always cherished, Bragia Lacresta, has revealed herself to you as the Adversary, the infamous soul-collector, The Stilladìa… who is indirectly responsible for the ruin of your family.

At least, during last thread you got to strike her with an angel’s feather… for all the good it did.

You have suffered through many an ordeal (pictured in the images below), but this time… this time it could be the end… or a new beginning.

For what is a Paladin without a Goddess to hold onto, and what happens when your own faith turns against you?Someone might have an answer… someone who was with you since the very beginning. Though you might not like the Stilladìa’s answers.
Was any medicine ever sweet? Or poison…

So, without further ado, let’s take a look at where we come from.

And then let’s decide together where we are going.

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.

Politely saying everything had gone to shit. King Varian in his melancholy and delusion had arrested Prince Alric for what he saw in Alric's part in Lady Katrana Prestor's attempt to wrestle the control of the Kingdom of Stormwind to herself. In reality Alric had been the voice of reason and tried to negotiate a peaceful solution to all this.

What had followed was a swift counter-coup and Malevus found herself being chased by a bunch of thugs wearing the King's tabards. Danger, intrigue and diplomacy filled her days as she was steadfast in her mission to rescue Alric.

And now she is on her way to the Stormwind Keep, into the Lion's Den to rescue the man she loves so much.


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

Sitting at Alvor's table and munching on a piece of bread, you mull over your situation for what must be the hundredth time this week. Sigrid, Alvor's wife, has been giving you the stink eye for the last couple of days, assuaged a little by the hours you've been putting in at the mill to earn some septims. You've overheard her argue with Alvor at night in their own language (which you guess is Nordic), in which you've heard your name spoken aloud a few times--and not with affection. You tear off another chunk of bread. You could murder a quater-pounder with cheese right about now, but meat is apparently the food of kings around these parts. Even so, you're getting tired of cabbage and leek soup.

"No work at the mill today?" asks Sigrid pointedly.

You shake your head and swallow. "Log jam. Hod's taking a look. Should be fixed soon." You know she means well. She was the one that nursed you back to health when you washed up at the riverbank. She had even spent some of her own savings to buy you a health potion from Lucan--if not for that, you might have died from the injuries. But, at the same time, hospitality has its limits. Her husband's a blacksmith, which means they're not exactly starving but an extra mouth to feed is never really welcome, especially one that's been so vague about where it came from and why. And so, you've been planning to move on, except every time you think about what's happened, how you got here, and what it all means, and especially what might have happened to Lem, you have a panic attack.

But anyway, here are the facts as far as you understand them:
One: Skyrim, for some reason, is real and you somehow washed up here (in Riverwood to be exact) after the kayak accident. You haven't seen Lem, your best friend, yet. Chances are he didn't make it.
Two: This version of Skyrim is nothing like the game. It's an actual world, not a computer program. There aren't stats, levels, skill points. There's no NPCs. Almost nothing is abstracted like it is in the game. The other day you tried picking some red flowers down by the river. In the game you just point and press a button and the flowers are in your inventory. Here, you actually have to pick them one by one, and you have to be careful not to damage the plant or cut yourself on the thorns. The locations and the places are still the same, there's Riverwood, and you've heard about Whiterun and even Bleak Falls Barrow from Lucan, but if Riverwood is anything to go by, those places should be much bigger and more complex than they were in the game.
Three: The dragons haven't shown up yet. There is a civil war going on between the Imperial Legion and the Stormcloaks as in the game, but when you asked about the dragons, Alvor just looked puzzled and started talking about the Throat of the World and the Greybeards.


1/2

Welcome Back! Due to some new job shenanigans this is a bit late but I hope you guys enjoy the new cover art for this thread. Last time we played; Mark had accepted a night shift working the guard detail for Bruce Wayne, suspected target of Kal. C. Late and Anarky...

Previous threads: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Gotham%20City%20Beat%20Cop%20Quest

======

"Let's put Bunko and Chen in the car by the road. No offense to 'em but Bunko's a little lazy and if he can take a shortcut patrolling he will."

Hawthorne chuckles dryly with a nod.

"Looks like you already got the next lesson taken care of. It's important to know your strengths and weaknesses but it's better to know your fellow officer's. Because when shit really hits it, it helps to know what to expect."

"Like with you?"

"Right. You know to be there to help me pull the boot out of their ass when I'm done with em." He chuckles with a wry grin that could be taken as cocky. But the glint in his eye lets you know it's well earned.

A conflict of muffled voices at the front draws your attention and just as fast as he grinned, the smile is gone and his jaw is set as he marches stiffly to the front. You watch him freeze in the door and a vein begins to creep up his neck.

"Bunko." He says in a seething whisper. "The man said no shoes..."

=====

The meeting between you all is short. Hawthorne makes his position clear, outdoor patrol goes to Banks and his partner while Bunko and Chen handle the main road. There's hardly any time for small talk as the butler, Mr. Pennyworth, is less than subtle in his desire for their to be as few people in the manor as possible. Hawthorne sets the channel for your radio checks and sets them for the top of every hour. Everyone nods in quiet agreement and you break for your patrol routes until Banks catches you by the arm for a quick moment.

"Hey D, just wanted to ask you about Kimble real quick. I worked under him and everything but we aren't like... tight or anything. But I know he feels kinda shitty because he gave me a hard time over the undercover stuff and he didn't know about-"

You cut off his rambling.

"On the clock, Banks. Whaddya need from Kimble?"

"I just wanted to invite him camping. Let him know it's water under the bridge, y'know?"

"Sure thing man, I can let him know. I'm sure he'd be interested, military dudes love camping right?"

Banks shrugs but lets out a relieved chuckle.

"Guess we'll find out. Have a good shift, D."

"You too, Banks. Be safe."

You watch him head out with Costas but you can't help but notice Costas' expression as he glances at you over his shoulder. Eerily reminiscent of the first glance you got from Rogers at the gym. His eyes flick over your shoulder and he quickly turns away, you glance yourself and see a stern faced Hawthorne.

ANTON PEAS: that’s your name, don’t wear it out! Originally a mild-mannered grilljockey, a botched demonic summoning brought you to ZORAL: a fantasy world shrouded in perpetual darkness!

You get used to it!

The memory loss and everyone trying to kill you? That’s the tricky part. See, your unexpected trip landed you in one Hell of a mess: not only did you lose a huge chunk of your memories, but you also forfeit your soul to RED--you don’t know the specifics, but essentially your summoning granted you some DEMONIC POWERS, so it’s not all bad!

What IS bad is what you’re up to now: your hellish helper can restore your memories, but he won’t do it for free! The price: delivering the heads of THE FOUR LORDS OF ZORAL: tyrants and titans that rule the darklands with iron fists, claws, and… you dunno, tentacles, maybe? There’s a reason they’ve ruled for so long, however, and despite your platoon of pals and plentiful powers you can’t help but feel a little apprehensive about the whole thing!

Exhibit A: ARCHMAGE TRIER. Arriving in UMBERAL: Zoral’s very own city of tomorrow, you were swiftly introduced to the TEKSOULS: menacing magitek that follow every whim Trier can think up… and you met the guy–he thinks a LOT!

Not to be outdone, you also ran into THE SPICE CARTEL--not only is Umberal their home turf, they’re also running some kind of deal with the Archmage… as for what it is, well, you shudder to think!

Your search for leverage over the Archmage took you to TRIMBAULT ACADEMY: Zoral’s most prestigious magical academy, and whole you managed to snag some goodies and teach a surprisingly-decent class (don’t ask), you didn’t manage to find notes other mages took on their Archmage adversary! Even worse, all signs point to The Cartel snatching them up for their own perfidious plots!

Luckily you had an in: TZAH-TZIE, skilled songstress and your current beau, has an axe to grind with her musical rival LUTZA. Having saved the starlet from a kidnapping on the Umberal Skyrail, you earned your way into holding a concert in Umberal, and some of the biggest names in The Cartel just happen to be huge fans!

You were just about to plot out the details at the glitzy CRYSTALMELT HOT SPRINGS LODGE when you ran smack-dab into The Cartel’s higher-ups… and the big cheese himself, VHALE NESSURMOS.

Did we mention he’s also your girlfriend’s husband? And that she freezes up like a clam on Pluto at the mere mention of his name?

Cornered by the Cartel, THIS is where your tale continues…

https://youtu.be/1lR8VLt1Xlk

>CONTD.

You are James Underwood the Younger, and you are about to kill a man. You've never done that before. Not that it would be difficult, said man is pinned to the ground and already dying. Courtesy of James Underwood the Elder, your father. A ninety-four year old man, who calmly had you drive him into Mendig's northern projects to linger in a dark alleyway and wait behind a rancid garbage bin for this man to draw near. At which point he simply got up, strode out into the open, and drove a knife into the man. Once, in the back, then once again into his front after he fell. Puncturing the lungs to prevent him screaming, you figure.

Your father...Dad, was always an imposing figure in your life. A former soldier who never raised his voice and never needed to to get either his son or an entire room of suits to listen. You never got a full picture of what he did for Jefferson, even after the latter's fall, but there was a reason he did not oppose your wish to climb the company's ladder without his influence. Even then, he was trying to shield you. You were in your early twenties, but still a little boy to him. That hasn't changed, especially after Mom died. You sometimes compare yourself to those of his generation, who lived and fought in the war, knew the Rebuilding and golden years that followed. A tougher breed than yours, for sure. Dad never cared. You think he was just happy his only child would not know what he did. And now you are about to step into a war, a deadly game, though hopefully as a player and not an ignorant, unwitting pawn.

Dad is scared. The idea fills you with unease. This man fears not pain nor death, and yet he is afraid now. Scared of what is to come, scared that he is not strong enough to protect you. Of course, how could he, he's a dying old man, the thought still echoes in your head. Well, truly that is where your troubles begin.

A few months ago, Dad discovered something. He didn't tell you how, but he apparently found strange floating stones that no one else could see. They gave him power, unnatural abilities, a small part of his youth back, and the ability to get more. From what he knows, these stones are only found dormant in certain people who have taken another's life. Even fewer still may gain these stones, alongside the ability to use them, when killing the killer. You get the feeling Dad isn't telling you everything. But since he calls them blood stones, he figures that those of his blood may also be like him, able to use them.

Quest Resources (stats, party, location, neofauna information, date, time, etc.): https://rentry.org/PokepocalypseQST

Quest Archive: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Pok%C3%A9pocalypse%20Revival (Start here if you want to catch up on the quest's previous threads!)

Updates will be attempted every 2 days! Ideally, I will be back to daily updates by the end of this thread. Absences will be announced in advance and given definitive end dates if I can manage it.

<><><><><>

Within the Year of Our Lord, 1884, upon a world quite similar to our own, all civilization is at war with a peculiar breed of creature...

...all civilization, that is, save for Walter Buchanan and his companions. Walter, an aspiring naturalist, sees the good in these creatures: these demons of earth and sky, able to command the very heavens themselves, privy to the inner thoughts of man and the very souls that animate them. He has tamed four such creatures, all of whom walk by his side: Aster, his flaming foal; Mary, his electric sheep; Taylor, his silk-spinning caterpillar compatriot; Florian, his aromatic flower sprite.

These creatures, whom he dubs "neofauna," are not his only company. Walter is further joined by two human travelers: Thomas J. Steele, a businessman and state representative of Indiana, and "Andrew," a former buffalo hunter now employed as Steele's own bodyguard. All three of these men share a common cause: a desire to return to the East Coast.

This trio is further bound together not only by shared experience, but by their shared allegiance to the Staters: a movement led by a group of rebellious Californians looking to upend the most recent state governor, C. P. Huntington, for his atrocities against the state of California. The treacherous governor has used the state militia to launch a coordinated raid on the Staters' former headquarters, and suspicions abound that he is now responsible for multiple deaths within the movement-- deaths which the Stater's stalwart leader, Aaron Muyr, now seeks to avenge...

<><><><><>

in a meaningless world, a girl finds heaven in scarlet mist

"JESUS FUCK." A bit of spit leaves the girl's mouth with the utterance of the expletive. The thin blonde man shoots an annoyed look at his coworker as he leans on his broom, watching her wipe the spit from her chin.

"Hey, management said we couldn't curse. Get that side for me." The brunette gives him an indifferent glance, grabs a dustpan, and starts sweeping in various things: rose petals, scrapped, badly framed photos, a dust of cocaine that had slipped from some celebrity's torn pocket. She scoffs at the discovery of a used condom leaking all over the concrete.

"Just saying. You'd think that at a big event like this, people would be a bit more dignified." She turns to look at the big black block letters that burned boldly on the arena sign.

MILLER V HAWKE
FATHER V SON
TONIGHT

(1/5)

Your name is BrightReef Grover and you are finally a Science Scout!

Among the youth of Swallia; public service is considered a great mark on a resume for a future career, and a great use of a young person's time. Before being mated or mature enough to engage in the workforce; it is a method to expend youthful energy towards something useful. But you wouldn't know much about that; you're more interested in the merit badges, the sash, and the cool stuff you get to do.

The Scouts are a direct subsidy of InterCon; the governing body of your independent planet. Swallia and its two moons are in an autonomous zone and are free from the predations and exploitations of other powers in space. This is guaranteed by your protector-in-all-but-name state; the Jaxtian led Hegemony. But once again, you don't really know much about that. You're just a kid, you're much more excited about summer vacation on the last day of school. You even get to meet the representative from the Eugenic & Science policy department of the Swall government. Cool!

The gates of Felcross are behind you now. The city where you were raised, the city of your first failures and rare achievements, the last great city on the way east. You look back, as if to say goodbye. There is nothing of worth left for you there, only your bickering family and your more successful peers.

You are a wanderer now. On your belt is a sword, on your back - a bag with tools, travelling gear, some money - whatever was left after your purchases - and rations. They won't last long, but you'll think of solving this later. Two javelins fit nicely in the quiver, slung over your shoulder close to the travelling bag.

Barely a man, not a youth, you start down one of the roads. You don't know much of the world, but you've had dreams. Dreams of power, people bowing to your might, of... freedom, to do what you want, however indulgent your desires may be. Of immortality, like in the tales of the Flower Harbringer and the Collector of Names.

They are far away, but one who doesn't begin his journey will most certainly never see its end.

You possess basic ability in the way of the sword and the javelin, having been given basic training for the militia, like any able man of the kingdom. You also know your way around the streets, courtesy of your upbringing. You can repair and take care of your weapon, and know the basics of crafting, having helped around the smithy for a time. You think you can survive on the road and subsist if need came. That's about all you are capable of.

You heard the road east leads to the frontier, the outlands. Not completely devoid of settlement, it is, nevertheless, a dangerous place - some of the monsters manage to sneak into the heartlands of the kingdom of Hien, not to speak of these wild lands, where they may have greater reign. Their distance from the heartlands means all kind of folk flock there, sometimes good in heart, but often dark. It also means greater freedom, whatever the cost. At least, that's what the caravans and travellers from that land told you when they passed through Felcross.

"Only madmen go east," your grandpa once said spitefully. "Those that don't know the worth of a family at your back or a proper home you can return to." Didn't stop one of your elder brothers from going there. Didn't stop you.

The road is calm for a few days as you pass by caravans going west. You didn't have enough money to buy your place in one, so you're going alone.

After the sun sets on the 4th day of travel, you consider making camp, like the previous days, but see a light further down the road. Approaching closer, you see a person sit by the campfire, a man, if you read their build correctly. He doesn't seem to have noticed you, tinkering with something in his hands. A tent is pitched nearby, and a spear rests by the fire. The faint scent of herbs and medicine drifts in the air. The smoke, too, of course.
(1/2)

It's been a while, hasn't it? Let's start from the top.

You are Kyle Mercer. 23 years deep into a life of suffering. Though, you gotta admit it is far better to give than to receive.

It's reductive to say you "hear" voices. Truth is, you don't hear shit. You feel it, and it feels good, don't it?

Past Thread: >>6281756
Archive: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Missval
General Pastebin: https://pastebin.com/5hFQZtc3
Character Sheet: https://pastebin.com/x0sZyPY3 (New's here!)
Twitter/X account for important announcements, contact and stuff: https://x.com/MissvalQM


Your name is Shelly Suzume, and you’ve finally discovered what really happened to you all those years ago. About your condition, your mind, and the mess it’s become.

Unfortunately, the truth isn’t good news.

After a retrieval mission was abruptly changed at the last minute, you decided to take matters into your own hands and infiltrate the Black Sheep Family’s headquarters. You’d been here before. Partially, at least. But with the city under blackout and Grimm swarming the outskirts, this seemed like the perfect time to go deeper.

And, somehow, it paid off.

You found her. The scientist who once worked as a nurse back at Haven Academy. Cerise. You interrogated her, accidentally broke her nose, and finally learned what really happened to you. Why your mind fractures the way it does. Why children flinch when they see your eyes. Why… you’re the way you are.

To put it bluntly, Grimm-infused Dust emits waves that warp the brain in unnatural ways. That’s what happened to you. No cure, at least not yet, and considering how experimental this whole thing is, you’re not even sure if one even exists. But you’re not about to stop looking.

Cerise asked for your help finding someone. An associate of hers. You agreed, partly because you’re not a monster, partly because you needed her alive and cooperative if you wanted answers.

Then came the elevator. A tight, hidden shaft buried deep beneath the mountain. Halfway down, the power started to flicker. You tried to stabilize things with your Semblance, but it didn’t hold.

Long story short, the elevator crashed. You got off light. Just a few broken fingers and toes. At least you’re alive.

Cerise isn’t… that well. She’s unconscious, with a hit in the back of the head, and without Aura to heal herself.

Now you’re trapped deep in the Black Sheep’s hidden laboratories with a dying scientist in your arms. Given what you’ve heard about this place (The experiments, the lack of ethics, the vast number of unholy secrets), you have no idea what’s waiting for you down here.

But one thing’s clear. You have to save Cerise. Mostly because she’s probably the only person in Remnant who can help you fix what’s been done to your mind.

"We should keep moving and catch up to the NPC. My transformation only lasts a minute and we should make the most of it." You say motioning to the next cave entrance. Ryuji nods and tears his glaive free from the zombie just as Irene finishes her trance. The three of you regroup and begin to run through the cave system once more, all pretense of stealth lost. Not helping was the fact that Ryuji was constantly gushing and asking questions about your abilities.

"What else can you do? How long is the cooldown? What buffs do you get? Did the coat come with the costume?" He asks, eagerness overtaking any sense of restraint on his curiosity. "I don't know anyone who's ever gotten this far!" He concludes. You suppress a small sigh building up. You had expected him to explode with excitement given his love of the game but you hadn't really expected to see him get this excited. Still, you couldn't help but share a bit of his enthusiasm. How long had it been since you had eagerly spoken about the game with someone just as passionate instead of trying to avoid the conversation with non-answers? You pull back your helm, allowing it to fold back behind your head and somehow vanish causing Ryuji to let out a noise that sounded like a mix between a squeal and roar of excitement.

"It folds back..." He manages to eek out.

"It's on a 5 minute cooldown. So it's really more of a boss fight kind of ability though right now I don't think we have the luxury to hold back big CDs. While I'm in this form, these are considered two handed weapons." You say raising your fists. Ryuji's jaw drops.

"Waitwaitwait. You're dealing two hander damage with your fists alone? I've seen how fast you can swing those things and you're telling me they can hit as hard as a warhammer?" He asks.

"Yup. Only while transformed though. Untransformed I have the Brawler's [Powerful Fist] skill but it seems to scale better because I can't really wield anything else." You continue. "Also, I'm considered to be wearing light armored outside of my transformation and medium while transformed. Stacks with the bit of damage reduction my class gives. Class seems to give me a handful of abilities from other classes to pick from on level up but it seems to lean towards fighter and brawler skills." You pause for a moment. "But I get this feeling that there's more to it. Almost like the game is keeping note of what I do and adjusting for it. I got a weird quest regarding another player on the tutorial island and now I'm expected to grow under strife, whatever that means. For the moment it seems my class progression is locked until I meet some kind of requirement. Nothing about this class is straight forward and the power seems to compensate for it." You say, drawing your helmet back on. "If I'm honest...that's the fun part."

So, this goes first you type what we would what (can be anything. literally from a wizard in a world made of weed where you dungeon endlessly or that you are a literal rock.) After that we decide what goes next
FIRST COME FIRST SERVE
if you are unsure of what to do look at the OP post

FIRST COME FIRST SERVE ALWAYS

Previous Threads: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=The%202nd%20Primarch%20Quest
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"Magnus" Lieren's voice rung out through the tower, melodic yet sorrowful. Magnus could feel and see the great turmoil and distress within their brother's psionic signal and immediately ceased the lesson he was giving to the young acolytes to speak privately with his fellow primarch, within the heavily warded and protected sanctuary of his private study.

Sitting beside preserved specimens of the organs and body parts of spirits and true daemons, the red king of Prospero projected his mind and great power into the vast seas of the warp, and soon found the astral avatar of his brother, sat with crossed legs as was the habit of Long Jianese men, with a pained and regretful expression, worry weighing down on his brow more than the cursed brand it bore.

"Brother" Magnus said gently, worringly, as he reached out to his brother "What is it that ails you so terribly?"

Lieren, weeping tears of boiling gold and frozen silver, bowed his head shamefully, regretfully, unable to look his brother and peer in the eye.

"A great weight, that I am unable to bear" he answered, as was his habit, vaguely and buried beneath poeticism

"What" Magnus hastened, speaking perhaps more sternly than he intend, as his great red hand wrapped around the silk covered shoulder of his brother, shaking him without meaning to as he remained limp and most concernly of all, defeated.

"A brother, whose name I do not know. He suffers, abused by the man who should've been a father and guardian to him, used as a figurehead and tool" Lieren hissed, with the same measure of venom and vitriol of which he spoke the dangerous denizens of the great sea, the entities he dubbed variably as evil spirits or daemons. Magnus' eyes widened and he felt his muscles tense as his blood ran cold.

"Like you had known Angron suffered under the yoke of the high riders" Magnus whispered as Lieren shook his head, nearly pitifully

"Oh wise Magnus, forgive me for keeping this tragedy from you. But I had believed i could intervene and protect this brother, as I had Angron, assist him in freeing himself from his abuse, aid him as a brother should, show him what family was meant to be and mean" his brother wailed and cried, tears now streaming from his face, catching in his scars and rising as snow white mist as he admitted ot what he imagined as a great crime "But, this damned brand upon my head, prevents me from doing so. So once again, I must dishonorably break my word, and shamefully ask you to face the danger I had intended to meet in my place"
Cont

Welcome to CBF, a game set in the cyberpunk future of Charleston, SC, using the horror/urban fantasy world of Changeling: The Lost (and most of the rest of World of Darkness) as it's larger backdrop.

You will be a Changeling, someone that was taken by the True Fae to an alien realm, Arcadia, across the hedge between reality and dreams. They left a Fetch behind in your place, a simulacrum that took your place among your friends and family, making your disappearance unnoticeable. While in captivity, you were traumatized, and forcibly transformed into a creature, or perhaps a decoration, or tool. You've since escaped, back to the real world, back to Charleston, SC, now, in the year 2198.

You command certain supernatural abilities by making contracts and pacts with the forces of nature and reality, and can also make magically binding bargains with other Changelings and mortals. To non-fae creatures, you are by all appearances a human, maybe quite similar to your original self, but possibly older, younger, scarred, or with certain traits having since been altered - time passes in strange ways within Arcadia, and the marks left by the True Fae vary in their subtlety. Other Changelings, fae creatures, and certain other supernatural beings, however, can see past the Mask of concealing faerie magic, and view your true self - be that a musclebound troll, or an automaton cobbled together from wax and copper in your own former image.

Megacorporations and stranger monsters than yourself pull the strings of society in these neon nights, and you will struggle with maintaining your humanity, and sanity, while navigating the maddening world of the fae, and the soul-crushing dystopia that's been produced by generations of greedy, sociopathic humans. You escaped from the creature that abducted you some ten years ago, and have survived in that time by honing your skills and picking your battles.

hello, can someone of u pls hack my mail cause im trying to play one game but i forgot the pass and i also cant reset it because i losed this mail, i cant prove thats my mail but u can check that this mail is not conected to any of social media. the mail snuladonoza914@gmail.com

PRELUDE In the third decade of the 21st century, the nations of Mankind contested Cislunar Space, the vast darkness that begins 35,000 kilometres above Earth in geosynchronous orbit, approaching beyond 380,000 km to reach the surface of the Moon.

The Sixth Thread of Fatale Albion!

The Fatale Albion Thread Archive:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Fatale%20Albion

Unfortunately thread #5 wasn’t archived so I have to use archived.moe: https://archived.moe/qst/thread/6264085

Other Threads by Lumina Canima:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=meguca+royale

INTRO (Please do not skip this)

◕ Fatale Albion is a Spin-Off of Lumina Canima’s “Meguca Royale”, taking place in the U.K. Three players are currently taking part in this game. They each will answer to their own prompts with their own characters. This Quest will have major spoilers for PMMM, so if you haven’t watched it yet and don’t want me to ruin it for you, watch it right now or else. If you still want to read and participate in this quest then I’ll have something to show you.


◕ In the previous thread: Abigail and Stephanie successfully stop a stabbing in school caused by a Familiar by using bravery, connections, and a rifle from the Victorian Era. They commiserate over the escalation that the Witch is causing, more violent and targeted actions will make the building inhospitable. Megan and Oliver decide to escalate in response by bringing guns to school.
In a different part of York, a girl named Emily is Contracted, smuggles a body, and enters her paradise with the help of a strange but helpful girl named Marisa.
Abigail is now asleep in class, Stephanie is going to cause a localised blackout, and Emily will explain her way of life.

OTHER STUFF

>Can I also join in the suffering?

I’ve decided that I’m accepting new players for now. Just fill in this Contract Form and you’ll be all set.

Name: (The name of your character. Shameless Self-Insert or not)
Appearance: (The garish looks of your character. Clothing descriptions are also welcome.)
Quirks: (Personality traits, how they behave. Examples of how they act in specific situations are good. This space is vague intentionally, but remember: Simplicity is power and Brevity is the Soul of Wit.)
Wish: (The Wish that you made with your Incubator. Your magical ability and theme is influenced heavily by your Wish. Make sure to be careful, some wishes have unforeseen consequences.)

Somewhere in the southeastern United States is a small town named Whispering Oaks. The town has a population of roughly 10,000 people and it’s situated about an hour’s (assuming good traffic) drive away from the nearest big city. There’s nothing particularly special about this small town that sets it apart from the rest, but it’s your small town. It’s where you were born and raised, and it’s where your family’s planted their roots.

It’s an off year. The president was elected last year and the midterms are the year after this, so there’s not much in the news right now, election wise…except in Whispering Oaks. Not only is every seat in the city council scheduled for re-election, but so too is the mayor.

You’ve thought about it for a while, but now you’ve decided: this year, you will run for mayor, challenging the sitting one.

But first, we must figure out some key things about you. It should be noted that some of these factors will influence your chances of getting elected.

>Name.

>Age. (Must be 18+)

>Sex.

>Occupation. (Can have multiple)

>Education.

>Political party. (Democrat, Republican or Independent?)

>Do you live near the center of town or on the outskirts?

>Physical description and additional character information. (Optional)

Now that we’ve settled you, let’s take a look outwards…more specifically, who is the incumbent that you will be challenging? What’s the state of the town in?

>Easy: The mayor has done a bad job running Whispering Oaks. Development has stagnated, infrastructure is neglected, business and people alike are leaving. They’re expected to lose re-election, assuming that they think it worth bothering to run in the first place. They’re expected mayor’s broad unpopularity is directly sinking the rest of the city government’s approval as well.

>Medium: The mayor has not done a bad job running Whispering Oaks, but they haven’t done a great job either. They’ve stopped the town from falling backwards but haven’t done anything to make it grow. The sitting mayor is painfully average and electorally a blank slate. Their chances of being re-elected are about 50/50, depending on how good of a candidate they’re up against.

>Hard: The mayor has done a good job running Whispering Oaks. Businesses and people alike have flooded into the town, the roads lack any potholes, the streets are safe and—most importantly—people are happy. It would take some serious scandal, awfully-handled crisis or a once in a lifetime candidate to take this mayor down.

Choose wisely. There’s no changing your decisions afterwards.

>previous thread:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6269754/


>First things first, I did actually come back after the funeral and I uh...I dunno. Did I lose the plot? I kept waiting and my autism locked me into that thread hoping someone would respond. So before I type out a huge post I wanna make sure, is anyone even interested in Alola Quest anymore?

Threads 1, 2, 3, 4: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Halo:%20Spartan%202%20War%20Reports
Active Spartan Roster: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/12PTTzwcNVbQbIC101lrcrQQZKWhK3myTLWEQ0A1ybj8/edit?gid=0#gid=0
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Sven-033's Qualities: [Special] Giant, [Special] Spartan-II, Maverick, Officer [Lieutenant], Wunderkind, Inspiring.
Sven-033's Advancement Paths: Brawler: Open Hand: 5/10 Bulwark: Unbreakable: 5/10 Grenadier: 4/10| Diplomat 1/6 Infiltrator 1/6 Scrounger 2/6 Tactician 1/6| Jotun 1/4
Sub objective Progress: Artificial Artisan 3/?| Blade Breaker 1/?
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Current Mission: Mission 4: Operation: FALLEN- VALKYRIE

Mission Wide Optional Sub Objective : Accomplish primary objective without causing Alarm or alerting the locals/ rebel elements to the Spartan presence on black sands

Secret mission wide objective: Prevent the Einherjar on Black Sands from warning the others


Violet Team (Sven-033, Shika-108, Nesta-097, Illya-077)
Primary: Capture or Terminate VIP, Ingrid Askeland, Einherjar Political asset Codenamed Herfjötur, and retrieve her remains if she is neutralized

Optional Sub Objective 1: Capture additional Einherjar non combatants alive or dead

Secret objective 1: [FILE ENCRYPTED]

Secret objective 2: Capture or destroy the first and last shipment of "Bad Medicine"
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Indigo Team (James-005, Daisy-023, Cal-141, Anton-044)

Primary: Neutralize the Elite Einherjar Unit, the Rødt skjegg, either through complete decimation or extreme loss of irreplaceable veteran fighters

Optional Sub Objective 1: Capture "Erik The Red" Alive

Secret Objective: Prevent a false flag attack planned by the Red Beards, intended to cause further public distress and lower trust in the trustworthiness of the UNSC's peace making efforts
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Lilac Team (Naomi-010, Jorge-052, Solomon-069, Malcom-059)
Primary: Ensure the safety of non einherjar aligned insurrectionist leaders/ groups

Optional Sub Objective 1: Keep all the VIPs alive to Mission end

Optional Sub Objective 2: Keep more than 50% of non essential members of the delegation alive to mission end

Secret objective 1: [FILE ENCRYPTED
Secret objective 2: [FILE ENCRYPTED
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"Illya, lets talk shop" You say, keeping alert and scanning the Landing Zone's perimeter

"About what, Sir?" She asks immediately, pausing her own watch to glance your direction to acknowledge your request. Which was important, as you hadn't ordered her to give her two cents

"The Covenant Elite Soldier Caste" You tell her and she nods, understanding that you want to have a tactical discussion

"We call them Svartalfar" Shika chimes in "Sven came up with it"

"So that's why the operation was called that" Illya ponders outload "Kurt and the rest of us took to calling them Alligators, Svartalfar is a bit of a mouthful"

"So is Alligator, in all fairness" Nesta butts in, running her hands through her red hair and shaking it as she enjoys the sun and the breeze washing up from the shore.
Cont

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"! And co-parented by them both is Cindy Moon--half-fox demon, part-time prophetic monster slayer and a local vigilante endorsed by the moon god Khonshu!

Archive: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Max%20Spider%20Quest

Last time: After retaking the city, Cindy and company marched an army of monsters to Varnae's doorstep and challenged him to single combat! Despite the legends surrounding him, he got thoroughly trounced! In his desperation, Varnae cast away his pride, as well as his immortal soul! As it turned out, he had been secretly planning to possess the TRUE ruler of Limbo this entire time. Except, it wasn't Belasco, but a blonde kid with a giant sword!

Using every trick and resource at her disposal, Cindy avoided seriously injuring the girl, and fought her way to Varnae's castle. There, she and the Blood Witch lured him into a devil's trap, where Shaggy used his powerful magic charms to eject Varnae's soul from the host, and placed it in a home-crafted artifact used to entrap spirits.

They weren't able to rest for long, though, because Ben and Belasco’s fight made its way down to Cindy's level! Together, the two of them briefly fought the demon, but his defenses were too strong for them to even wound him! Thankfully, Khonshu informed you that he had called for backup. And that backup came in the form of Ammit, the devourer of souls! But that wasn't even the craziest part! Because she brought Cindy’s previously deceased friend, B Negative, along for the ride!

After Ammit swallowed Belasco whole, Cindy ran over to embrace her dear friend. But the revelations didn't end there!

Harpy and James came out to meet the group, dragging Dr. Hank McCoy (A.K.A. Beast from the X-Men) along with them! He not only surrendered and admitted to his complicity in this event, but he also offered them what might be the cure for mutants!?

No one really knew what to make of that, but Cindy at least managed to prevent Mina from killing him outright, forestalling Ammit's judgement in favor of allowing the Kaiju King to make the decision. Only, when they got back, the Kaiju King was on the brink of death from overstraining himself during the zombie invasion!

Thinking fast, Cindy picked out a small team to dive back into the battlefield and find Louise. It should have been an impossible task, but, for some reason, Cindy received help from a pair of spirit messengers that belonged to a mysterious Kumiho.

(Cont.)

Another set of tyrns passes and begins again, bringing with it a new set of challenges. The threat of lunar invasion has passed, and with it a new era of peace begins. Of course such things rarely last. Already the nations of the world dabble in tremendous powers that could alter the world. Stolen lunar technologies, tremendous machines worked powered by magic, the holy light of gods and puppets stitched together from broken spirits. The world lurches toward great change, ready or not.

---

This a Multiplayer Nation Roleplay! Unfortunately we are full up on players at the moment with no openings expected. Apologies to anyone who wanted to join!

> Global
Across the land all breathe a sigh of relief as the great silver fortresses of the Lunites march into the ocean, never to be seen again. Even those few who can follow them find no trace a tyrn later.

> Turbans
Glorious victory at last! Though the battle rages day and night Turban ingenuity has won the day, developing horrific poisons that leave the invaders trembling and flailing while strikes against key locations of their silver fortress has sent it into retreat toward the ocean! Despite the usage of terrible weapons of magical fog the invaders have been driven back! At the height of the battle a great charge of biotitans slam into the fortress and hurl it into the sea! Glory to the Turquoise Turbans! Nothing remains of the invaders save their memory.

> Vencia
The great cataloging of Taxmoss is an exciting time for the explorers of Vencia as they cross the foreign jungles on the far side of the Tarn. It is of course also a somewhat terrifying time of course, because such activities inevitably lead into the territories of the Red Wall, a fearsome skrit war thing that is decidedly less friendly than the usual Skrit, it seems quite determined to devour everything in reach in fact.
A nutty new gourd is discovered in the jungles, one that curiously grows more like an onion than a normal squash, with most of the plant firmly underground. Getting them pulled free is quite the hassle, fortunately normal Skrit drones are usually handy to help dig them out. When the ants get into the leftover squash left as payment they change color to a curious metallic brown, at least when not near a venk. Is this some sort of magical thing?

You live in Salmon, Idaho. Your small town has heard some disturbing rumors from the South that an army of mysterious robots has been killing and kidnapping people, and you've been chosen to go to Boise to investigate the truth and report back.

First, who are you?

Your name:
>Write-in
Your sex:
>Male
>Female
Your age:
>Write-in
Your SPECIAL (assign 40 points):
>Strength
>Perception
>Endurance
>Charisma
>Intelligence
>Agility
>Luck
Your Tag skills (choose 3):
>Small Guns
>Big Guns
>Energy Weapons
>Unarmed
>Melee
>Throwing
>Stealth
>Steal
>Traps
>Speech
>Barter
>Medicine
>Science
>Repair
>Lockpick
>Gambling
>Outdoorsman
Your background (affects starting gear and character interactions):
>Hunter
>Doctor's assistant
>Tradesman
>Trader
>Junkie
>Write-in
Your traits:
>Write-in
>None

Our bittersweet farewell to youth.

“Honestly, I could name a thousand reasons: I don’t like Prometheus, and I don’t trust him to mold me like a piece of clay. I’m not you, and I don’t want to be— hell, I don’t think I’d even deserve to be.”

“You wouldn’t-”

“There’s only one person in the world I’d want to trust my soul with,” you interrupt, “And it isn’t your dead boyfriend. I have things I worked hard for that I want to keep, people who I really want to stay dead, and I owe a debt of gratitude to the Architect for giving me this opportunity in the first place. I like power, I like having more than other people, but, more than anything…

I want to be free, and I want to be myself. If that means I don’t get to be happy, then, fuck it, who even needs to be? I have a more powerful impetus.”

You spread your arms wide, the fake soul of the fake you conjured by the Grand Art creaking and chipping beneath the pressure exerted by your real might, crimson light pouring through the breaks like water from the cracks in a porcelain vase. Arms painfully burst from your back, skin tearing and blood pouring out from the ruins of your tattered sweater. The limbs flex their freshly minted muscle, caressing the soft, tender pink skin, newborn, almost infantile despite their long, sinister build, You topple forward for a moment the weight cracking your spine under its crushing weight until your body reorganizes itself, reinforcing and regenerating shattered bone and torn sinew with metal and divinity, your skeleton shivering and popping as your new anatomy settles into place.

“...I see. Well, it was a free choice, a true choice, so a number of possibilities exist. I guess this just happens to be one where things turned out wrong.”

“You’re too vertical, both of you,” you sneer, “Your world is dead. The man who killed himself was someone you never knew, and he died for someone he never met. As far as I’m concerned, all of those “what if”s are only as real as any other predictive model. A glorified simulation, really. Well, if it’s any consolation, I believe your wish to have been granted before you ever made it: you have never been me, and you never will be.”

The other you remains silent, but you press on, the constructed world tearing away as your Impetus overrides the Grand Art, its caster no longer present to protect it from your will. Your body lifts into the air, scarlet fetters burst from your fingertips, slowly taking the qualities of the Sunset, first hard to notice, vermillion and magenta, then, less subtle, gold, lilac, blue, white, black. The chains bind to the fabric of the incomplete reality itself, each wild movement of your arms tearing out another piece.