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?

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?

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.

Archive: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Disappearing%20Hogwarts

Character Sheets: https://pastebin.com/VNSkfRge

Twitter: https://twitter.com/head_qm

--

In the last thread:

> The Unseelie lay waste to the Earth, an unstoppable horde devouring everything in its path

> You and your friends fight a demented Harry Potter, who has nothing else to lose

> With severe losses, you win, the Boy-who-lived falling to his own Killing Curse

> In the following morning, you and Arty get married, then march towards the center of Atlantis

> Against hordes of dementors, the final battle against Salazar Slytherin and the Darkness inside him rages on

And now…

It is the chirping of the birds which first jolts you from your stupor, proudly sitting upon their trees, singing jollies to and fro of the merry morning lights. You, who had found no rest, no shut eyes throughout the night, take it simply as an ringing pain on your head. For though you had momentarily found yourself lacking in cognition, it was not rest which you had felt, but a lapse in concentration, a departure of your thinking to some state of sickly torpor.

You had not slept for the entire night, and certainly, it hath given no benefit to your condition. But then again, how could you, with the challenges that you faced?

You are Alessandro Galliota, the Viscount of Portblanc. That much you can be sure of, even in your sorry state...you, who had been brought here to this land of Nera, this distant land from your own, by your great liege Don Carles IV Brascarams. You had come here to wage war in the name of the Spisa family, allied to your country, against the forces of the Fortelli, friendly to your foe. You had launched a campaign throughout their borderlands, partaken in a siege, and most of all, you had faced a force far mightier than yours, many times greater in both number and capability, aided by scores of Himmmerian Giants, those most fearful of enemies of the human race. For a whole day, you had succesfully fought them of, and, shattering the bridge which they sought to take in an pivotal moment, you had sunk to the depths of the river hundreds of their men.

You escaped death, too, by a hair's breadth, when the infamous Famiglia, those mighty knights of Nera, armed with beastly amazonian mounts, had been able to momentarily breach your formation. It was only by bidding your musketeers to fire upon them even as they fought your own men that you had survived, though at the cost of your entire retinue. All those things and much many others had happened yesterday, in this battle upon the Vessena. This battle, you are certain, has not ended yet, and it is this which brings you trouble. For today you must seek out victory and find a way to hold your foes at bay until the city of Montechia falls!

For now, however, breakfast will have to do. Shaking yourself out of this stasis, you raise yourself from the piece of wood that you had used as a seat for the night. Because you had fled into the grove to make your camp, you did not have the amenities of your lordly tent. Of course, compared to those amongst the soldiery who did not have any tent at all, you were not in a poor state. You order one of your servants to gather up whatever is available for you. What you receive, after some time, is...some bread, and some of the cheap rum that was served to the soldiery. Though it be enough to fill you, you cannot help but feel some manner of bitterness in the knowledge that you stand but a few minutes of travel away from your supply wagons.

Your name is Johan. And you have been a taxi driver for as long as you can remember.

Which is about less than a month, give or take. You are not truly certain anymore, as time had begun to behave erratically, quickening and stopping at whim -- the sight of strange shadows worsening these effects.

But that was neither here nor there, though one could argue that it was something that affected you recently.

Two people were standing before you:
The first, her skin unnaturally pale from makeup, had an impish spark in her eyes. A mime and a seeker of thrills, just like you were - Mimi.
The second was someone whom you could only describe as a jock and a gym rat. Like you, he was beset and obsessed by the mystical - Jeremy.

Yes, you remembered now. You were talking with these two fellows about meeting an old friend. He made an arm spring out of the television recently. You remember that-

You used to love going on nature trails with all your friends. All seven of them.

You recall, when you were young, your parents would take you out to the forest every summer. And you would journey out into the wilderness, looking for something, anything, that remained unexplored.

There was a squalid passage, beyond a gate in decay, that led to a small grotto. You left the town's chaos then and there.

But you never found a path that wasn't tread before.

You frown at the thought. Another wandering memory. One of many. Though this one felt melancholy.

You couldn't say how true or false it was, or how innocuous they were. Last time you'd entertained a memories, death almost took you by the neck. But was it truly the fault of the people here? Perhaps another wandering shadow took the moment for itself, and laid claim upon your life. Or attempted to, at least. Perhaps it was someone else, the evidence was muddled but extant, you felt.

Alas that it might have appeared from the outside perspective that, as you were twisting and turning in your sleep, you'd almost strangled yourself with your blankets. A perfect accident.

But not one you nor your closest companions believed.

You knew of many shadows. You had seen them, shifting and sinewy, attack you and reveal wound an essence deeper than any feeling. Not to mention the physical injury, which was cured overnight for some unexplained reason. Yet you suspected a dream had something to do with it.

But none of the aggressive shadows, which Jeremy claimed to be mara, had made attempts at your life while you were unconscious. They tried to kill you -- that went without saying -- but you felt that none had yet attempted to kill you as you entered another realm as you slept.

Planet Dump25... Widely known as one of the worst planets in the galaxy, but not as bad as Dump26. The sickly glow of a diseased star irradiates this misbegotten place daily, providing a feeble facsimile of sunlight to the two and a half species of MISERABLE FUCK that live there.
the ELLY is a photosynthetic creature that uses its big veiny EARS to gather SUNLIGHT
the PHANT is a CARNIVORE, it EATS the ELLY
the BUTTLEECH is a FREELOADER, it SUCKS poop from the PHANT's butt
Perhaps in time, these genetic rejects will give rise to a thriving ecosystem... But probably not

Rules:
1. Find a creature suffering from environmental pressures
2. Copy it into MS Paint (or any other anti-aliased drawing program, if you're fancy like that)
3. Add a feature to the creature that will make it better at not dying
4. Reply to the post that had the old creature with your new, improved creature (and describe how it's different)
It's that easy! And they told me you needed a degree to be an evolutionary biologist...

Thread #2: http://thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6259613/

>Fed job takes you to a fairy tale.
>There is a robot in the fairy tale.
>Get cursed with a ghost.
>Met some of your co-workers.
>Broke ghost curse, sort of.
>Fed job takes you to fairy lands to find a missing person.
>Now, it's time to split up, team!

> While every world travels slowly towards its end, yours has just begun its journey.
> For this world, the cycle of Gods and Men spins anew, on freshly birthed lands awash with life.
> You are a being of creation, a God, among the first divinities born not long after a world’s genesis. You possess innate knowledge and immense power, with which you may seize dominance and carve out a place for yourself in these savage, untamed wilds.

Welcome to a spinoff installation of Beings of Creation, a long-running tactical civ-style hexcrawl based on your imagination. You are a non-omniscient divine being of great power. You find yourself spontaneously brought into existence in a prehistoric, primeval world, untouched by Gods.
The rules are relatively simple, and may be picked up as you go, but the document below goes into detail. Most players are familiar veterans of the game, so don't be shy and feel free to ask questions.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1eOyLUfkbgVFHjIPmNmcW9G2wQE7CZenv69m9yQF_aMY
https://discord.gg/yd3KbdCZ

With a few gods already out of the running, feel free to post a god sheet in the thread if you’re interested in joining in.

>Turn 11 begins!

New OP Edition

>PREVIOUS THREAD
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6253906/

>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!
This current arc is coming to a close. When that happens (and you’ll know when), we may have a spot for another foreigner to join the world of Pokémon…or even for a native to enter the stage and become Something More. Until Then…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! Usually.

Namefag as your character, with your item and level!
e.g. Sparks, Lv. 56 Pikachu
e.g. Sparks L.56 (Sneak Scarf/Team Shock)

The Caretaker Quest - Part 8

This is part 8 of the "side quest" for "Disappearing Hogwarts".
An unofficial alternate timeline based on HeadQM´s highly praised quest, Disappearing Hogwarts.
Reading the original story is not exactly necessary but heavily encouraged since this quest will contain references to it.
Created mostly as a place to wait while HeadQM was away for a while but slowly evolved into his own thing.

Quick recap so far:
>Recently graduated Ravenclaw student is hired at Hogwarts as the new Caretaker.
>Merlin somehow ended up inside your head.
>Harry Potter´s daughter died, letting Salazar Slythering (previously stuck inside her head) free to continue his quest to control The Beast, an all powerful ancient creature accidentally created by Merlin.
>He is currently now trapped inside a poor and weakened girl named Artemis.
>You obtained a piece of The Beast
>The Beast is now trying to escape under any circumstance
>Because of it, magic is now gone and you now have to find a way to get the rest of the pieces before The Beast escapes
What will happen now? Let's find out!

Part 7 here >>6274553

links to previous threads
Part 1:
https://archived.moe/qst/thread/6038711/

Part 2:
https://archived.moe/qst/thread/6080818/

Part 3:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2024/6122821/

Part 4:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6159531/

Part 5:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6196175/

Part: 6:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6236973/

Part 7:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6274553/

List of currently archived threads
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Caretaker%20Quest
Thanks to IlvermoryQM for the links!
(if anyone can figure out a way to save the ".moe" threads into "thisisnotatrueending" that would be much appreciated)

https://starwarsintrocreator.kassellabs.io/#!/FOIIZe8eGgMAvXw8Wm06

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

STAR WARS
AGAINST THE REPUBLIC

War has engulfed the GALACTIC REPUBLIC
Two months have passed since the CLONE ARMY captured the strategic world of GEONOSIS, but the Republic has been unable to press its advantage.

The Republic has won most of the pitched battles fought so far, but all have been at the periphery of SEPARATIST space, and at a steep cost. Already, hundreds of thousands of clone troopers and over two hundred JEDI KNIGHTS have fallen in battle.

Robbed of the initiative by the Republic’s surprise attack, the Separatists leverage their resource and manpower advantage, only committing their DROID ARMY to force the Republic into bloody, wasteful campaigns.

After a series of daring raids by independently Separatist commanders, both sides reevaluate and reposition themselves for the long war ahead…

=====

Welcome to Star Wars: Against the Republic. This quest, as the name implies, takes place during the Clone Wars. This quest is 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.

It's been a while since the last thread, but this one is intended to cover a lot, so I'll try to be more consistent with updates.

Previous threads:
Thread 1: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2024/5853066/
Thread 2a: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2024/5929453/
Thread 2b: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2024/5981826/

Feel free to ask questions and clarifications below. With that out of the way, let's get started.

>It is January 23rd of the Year 71 of the Cosmic Era

>Thread Archive:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=Errant+comet

>Tip Jars: If you enjoy the writing, consider sparing some dimes if you're able.
>patreon.com/Maxwelllallwell
>ko-fi.com/maxwelllallwell

Frieden Moon, Greencoat Pilot of the Zodiac Alliance of Freedom Treaty (ZAFT) militia enters into potentially the most impactful revolution of the Bloody Valentines War... And so it would be that the War, having entered a standstill. Begins the tentative turn of the page over its outcome

You're a plague rat.

You don't remember much about your past. Your life before the plague settled within you is a mystery. The plague doesn't affect you, and you're not sure how it would affect others if they got infected. You feel an itch to spread it though. You also feel like you'll grow stronger and maybe learn something about the plague if you do.

Your little body still aches, not from the plague, but rather as if from a long journey making your muscles sore.

Around you, in the dark, is flowing waste, the pitter-patter of water drops on wet stone, and the stench, the unmistakable stench of the sewers. You think you also hear the squeaking of other rats. The stone tunnels stretch before you.

What will you do, little rat?
>Find someone to spread the plague to. A misfit dwelling in the sewers? Other rats?
>Map the area. Check what's above the sewers. Maybe there's something of note within them as well.

You are Fiona Jarnafeldt, L2S Trollslayer, and you are in serious trouble.

Today you were deployed on a mission to save dozens of kidnapped citizens from the starving squatter city under Helsinki. You saved dozens from a sect of cannibals, only to come across a strange realization; they may have been receiving aid from a rogue government agent who wanted nothing but to see the system you work for destroyed. This rogue agent, a living tree by the name of Zephyr, operated within the Stormdrain to provide... something to the underdwellers. Information, probably.

Maybe it was him that helped pull strings to delete camera logs. Covered the tracks of the thieves. Maybe he even told them about what was carried on a train that came into Helsinki the month before you joined, causing a battle that killed dozens of Stormwatch members.

On the train was a suit of pneumatic powered armor, fashioned from kevlar and carbon fiber components from the stormy city of Chicago by their advanced heavy robotics division. This suit was made exclusively for an elite member of the Stormwatch of lanky proportions. The intended owner, L4 Nonoka Sumika, has an unusual and atypically tall and thin stature that should have made it so, even if stolen, no regularly shaped human could be able to wear it without so much modification that it couldn't work.

And yet, that suit stands in front of you, fully operational, standing eight feet tall, its broad hat casting a black shadow over the thing that has come to possess it.

That thing is an aberration of humanity, that goes by the name of "She." Given its stature, it would be rated as a Troll, but being armored in what it is, it's far more dangerous than its class suggests. Though sources had claimed She was a Finnish river spirit by the name called a Nakki, this is something else entirely. The sensation of water observed by others was misinformation gleaned from the pneumatic exhaust of subliminated hydrogen radiating from the suit and sound She seems to keep uttering, a verbal tick similar to the sound of residual hydrogen mixing with air to form water.

Po, po, po.

This is the story about a world divided between humanity’s accelerating advancements in technology and their mastery of arcane magicks.

Two heroines from opposite sides of the coin were brought together by fate itself to uncover the conspiracies brought forth by humanity’s unsettling progress. will they be able to bring balance to the world, pull a divided world back whole, or will their failures cause the segregation of humanity from its progress into an unrecoverable spiral into chaos? The choices are all up to YOU…!!

This is the story about technology, magick, stars, adventures, and breaking a curse.

This…..is “STARGRAVING”.

SCHEDULE: Every Monday-Thursday from 1:40PM-6:00PM EST

Keep in mind, I’m very new to Quests, as this is my first one. Nonetheless, I hope you stay tuned and enjoy!!

Jail Quest: a text adventure occasionally illustrated.

A night of drinking and a failed attempt to cheat on cards had landed you the strangest job slash community service sentence you've ever had: ensuring Gongalla Gaol survives the reality storm called Singularity.

Now you travel around with your employer and a handpicked crew to survey the four Reality Anchors. Hey, beats being tarred and feathered, right?

Previous thread:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6274911/

Gongallaverse:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Gongalla%20Gaol

You suddenly jolt wide awake in an unfamiliar room, with no recollection of the past few hours. It even took you a few seconds to remember you are Rosa Montagni, and another few seconds to realize the other person in the room is your crewmate, Valencio. Slowly, hazy recollections piece together a loose narrative of previous events: you've reached Viridis, the first leg of your journey to the East's Reality Anchor, when you receive news that your go-to destination slash transport, the walking city Freeport, had problems with its engine. Then you were sidetracked into a casino, where you played cards and unwittingly aided a truant Hexbourne student against a haughty twin Hexbourne students sent to retrieve him. Then you got entangled in a complex emotional... something with the casino owner, Don Bosco. Something about your mentor, Sierra (no relation to Sierra, the deity of the South anchor) and copious amounts of drinking? That must be why your memory's so hazy.

It’s a dark, almost pitch black night on the campus. Lazari could effortlessly light things up or give herself night vision, but doing so would take away the night out experience. She disliked how so many tried to find ‘solutions’ to things in life that did not need to be fixed. This night was perfectly fine the way it was, although it could use a bit more wind.

She takes off her shoes, letting her feet rest on the fresh grass. Thankfully, most of the lawn recovered from the dragon incident, the last thing she would’ve wanted was to revitalize every bit of grass to make it look uniform again—wouldn’t have been the first time. She stretches

Before she can go on her usual jog, she hears low mumbling from above. She looks up at the school building, until her gaze stops at a bird-like figure resting near the edge of the rooftop. It’s not uncommon for students to hang up there past midnight, but it’s not encouraged for a variety of safety reasons.

Climbing up there would be a piece of cake with magic, but it presents a fun challenge to climb as fast as possible, only relying on her body. One jump, put one foot on a window’s ledge, two jumps, make sure to avoid putting too much strength behind each step, three jumps, grab the edge with your left hand, lift yourself upward and-

There.

Not her best time, but having to climb up silently slowed her down. The student didn’t notice her despite lazari’s imposing figure. She made sure to mask her breathing and mana so that she could slip effortlessly past her in both sight and sound. Lazari taps her shoulder, and the student, who could now be identified as Fet, flinched with a short, high-pitched scream.

There is an awkward silence, followed by unnecessary apologies from the student.

Lazari shrugs, “You can stay here if you want, just don’t go practicing spells at this time of night. I’m glad it’s not some students doing something weird up there again.”

“..Um, ‘again’? How often does that ev- even happen?” Fet’s voice was stuttery, but her voice is less shaky than the last time the two of them spoke.

“You don’t want to know. Nor do you want to know what I mean by ‘weird’. I’ve considered not teaching some spells just because of what I’ve seen people do with ‘em before.” Lazari tries to contain her laughter. “What are you doing at this time, lassie?”

Fet averts her gaze, opting to look at the stars instead. “Thinking about things. I can think more clearly when I’m out- outside, but not when people are around.” Her speech was slower, perhaps as an attempt to control her stuttering.

Rain filters in through the ceiling, sliding along the support beams in just such a way it misses the numerous pots, pans, and cups scattered around the delipidated apartment and is readily sucked into the mouldy carpet. Which is then again immediately transferred to a new object: your sock. Your very next steps now all dotted with a wet squelch.

"Argh!" You cry, as you balance on one foot to pull the sock of the other, only for said wet sock to cozy up to the business end of the cigarette you had tucked between two fingers, providing a new, enticing after-taste to the familiar menthol as you unknowingly take a drag. "Huurhg!"

It might've been a week or so since you had washed that sock.

How had it come to this?

Well, the demon king lost against The Seven Braves. A poor title for a bunch of delinquents that jumped a guy seven to one. They murdered their way deep into the demon capital, defeated all the bureaucrats present, and killed the ministers while shouting inane things like "Die Heavenly Generals!"

They hadn't been generals and they certainly hadn't been heavenly.

They were butchered all the same and all branches of government were eradicated over the span of a few days. After performing what amounts to genocide, the "Saintes" had the gall to clasp her still-bloody hands together, bat her eyelashes, and say things like "No, we can't kill them all, that would make us just like them!"

And so the remaining demons, conveniently all of middle-rank and lower, were accepted as refugees into human society. What's that? You want to stay here in the demon lands? I see. Hmm? That demon from earlier? Oh, they fell into the river. Yes, lost all their limbs along the way. Wild, isn't it? Anyway, safety and a bright future awaits you in the human nation of Lightsong!

A few decades have passed since then, demons were by and large limited to awful jobs that made little to no money. The timing of the demons' arrival had been amazingly convenient, just as human society was entering an industrial golden age that required a massive labour force. Truly, the stars aligned for humanity.

The era of sword, shield, and spell has long since passed into history. Few still practice the ancient, magical arts, but demand has somewhat diminished now that you can barely chant out the first seven incantations of a spell before a newly arrived bullet in the brain informs you that you shouldn't bother with final three.

Hi! This is my gay larp story. Please don't laugh at me. It's not quite as fantastical as everything else here but I hope you enjoy it. Decisions will either be from a presented set that can be overridden by popular will at my discretion, or by simple suggestion. Will use d100, applying "Degrees of success" rules that may be familiar to some. For those unfamiliar, rolling a 50 on a dv 40 is 1 degree, 60 2, 70 3, and so forth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

IT IS 2026

THE "AMERICAN REVOLUTION" FAILED 250 YEARS AGO.

YOU HAVE LIVED IN BRITISH OCCUPIED AMERICA FOR YOUR ENTIRE LIFE, AS DID TEN GENERATIONS BEFORE YOU.

26 YEARS AGO, A COORDINATED SERIES OF ATTACKS ACROSS NEW YORK, PHILADELPHIA, AND BOSTON LEAD TO PARLIAMENT PASSING THE "ANTI-TERROR AND SECURITY ACT OF 2000", GIVING CROWN POLICE, ROYAL ARMED FORCES, AND THE VARIOUS INTELLIGENCE MINISTRIES BROADER POWERS THAN THEY PREVIOUSLY HELD. SURVEILLANCE IS A FACT OF LIFE.


IT IS 8:00 AM ON MONDAY, IN [Boston/NYC/Philadelphia]. YOU HAVE JUST LEFT THE FRONT DOOR TO YOUR HOME/APARTMENT. YOUR SHIFT AT [Retail store/Industrial Facility/Office] IS IN AN HOUR. TODAY YOU WILL [Walk, Take the bus, Take the subway, Take a cab]. THE AIR IS CRISP AND COOL, THE SKY A STEELY GREY. AN URBAN-CAMOUFLAGED ARMORED CAR TURNS LEFT ON THE BLOCK BEFORE YOU, IT'S DIESEL ENGINE WHINING MONSTROUSLY. AS IT PASSES YOU, THE EMPTY PUPIL OF IT'S REMOTELY CONTROLLED 12.7MM TURRET MEETS YOUR GAZE, TRACKING YOU FOR A FEW SHORT SECONDS BEFORE PIVOTING TO REGARD THE POTENTIAL THREATS AHEAD.

BETTER HURRY UP, YOU DON'T WANT TO GET FIRED

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
_

Your nap is a fitful, restless thing, filled with nightmares and feverish dreams that you lose memory of quickly even though they trouble you greatly and prevent you from waking up energized and bright eyed. When you do wake up, your elder sister is sitting over you with a warm smile on her ghostly, frost flecked fur. And for a moment you wonder how much of your recent memories were a dream, before sensing withing yourself the power and technique that proves that most of them were in fact real.

"Did the spiders enjoy my bouquet of bone and meat?" You ask tiredly, fluttering your eyes as you sit up and lazily lick the back of your paw as you sister, who isn't shy about showing her distaste for your method of bribery and payment clicks her teeth and whines irritatedly

"Oh they were overjoyed by the delicacy of your flesh sister, and after I managed to convince them to try your...fruit, they found it most pleasing to their monstrous palate. In fact, they found it so tasty and spiritually rich and potent, they nearly abstained from eating your guts and limbs entirely" She told you, grimacing as she looked away "Did..did you have to slice of your breasts along with your thighs"

"Fatty meat is the most succulent and delectable" You answered with a sneer "Besides, both grew back as readily as any other part of me I cut off. It was the arms and legs that took the most energy and effort to sprout again"

"I really hope you aren't becoming like that mushroom girl or her family. You're a cat, not a rose bush" Xuebai hissed and you laughed

"I am Huanliuxue and I can be whatever I choose or aspire to be!" You declare loudly "But I'm glad the spider demons accepted my payment and..."

"They've given you an extra visits worth of protection, they were so pleased. Though, the way they devoured the fruits to their pits, makes me worry they might try and plant you in their garden as a permanent guest" She cuts you off, eyes sharp and icy

"Well, at least they're right minded enough to know to properly admired and nurture one as magnificent and beautiful as I" You brush off that actually somewhat disturbing thought of being potted like an orchid flower "And what generosity to extend the warranty of this red string wrapped tightly around my finger"

"They're making cat meat preserved in bloody wine in that manor over the refuse pit they live in"

"Must be a lovely vintage, always wondered how I'd taste pickled" You snicker, delighting in the sickened and nauseas look that crosses over your sisters face "Oh lighten up, I'd pay them in kind and eat them if I had the chance"

Cont

You are Lorinda de Lindan, Princess, Inquisitor, and soon-to-be Tournament Champion! Well, not really, for you see the Inquisition is sending you into the Grand Tournament of Bloodgrave’s Fall as an agent to see if any otherworldly Strangers from the wicked and barbarous dimension of Earth sneak in to gain lands and glory right from under your father’s nose. Regretfully, the Inquisition has banned you from seeking victory as once your analysis of the competition is complete, it will be time to make a dramatic exit fitting of your desire to be the tournament’s underdog hero. Currently, there is a mere 14 days before the preliminary rounds begin for the duels where you shall compete. Now if only you knew the best way to prepare…

Archive: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=The%20Isekai%20Inquisition

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.

With the campaign in Durnholde over and the loose threads there and back home in Dawnholme tied up, Alric for a moment could turn his thoughts towards enjoying a nice trip to Stormwind City with Malevus as this grand date.

But of course nothing can go as he wants and after dueling Grom Hellscream and getting wounded in the process, Alric realised the political reality in Stormwind being a much bigger and more complex obstacle. The melancholy of King Varian had for all purposes dragged the City to halt and only drastic measures could help the Stormwind City to recover. At least that was his and Lady Katrana Prestor's thinking.

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

The loss of one's memory is a terrible thing. You're not in the strictest sense dead, but you may as well be for anything and everything you could call yourself is gone. And, you are left like a needle on a record player listlessly following a groove with no music. Yet, still the record turns and so does your meaningless experience continue second by second.

You're alone in a padded cell. You're bound in a straight jacket. A gag fills your mouth and is locked behind your head. It takes a great deal of effort to even stand because you're arms aren't free. You can think, feel, and express yourself clearly. Define the things you experience as if you've always known them. But, you have no memory of who you are, how you got here, or even where you're at. All you know is that you're restrained.

Something shuffles outside your cell's door. It sounds like somebody walking and brushing against the wall at the same time. A strange clicking noise accompanies the odd stride, like teeth chattering in the cold.

>Try to call out to them and get their attention

>Hold your breath, remain silent, and stay perfectly still

Use your knowledge of Cartoons to steal the F-16.
What will you do after you've stolen it?

Memories of Earth (Sonny - Aftermath 1) https://youtu.be/XxIr_gXszgM

In the blue hour, in a field of gently swaying grass, an old man stood, listening quietly to the cicadas screaming for pussy. He smiled at the thought. Insects were very amusing creatures and it was their music which gave voice to heat and the evening.

A cool breeze blew and it felt good against his weathered face. The old man was not used to such a peaceful, tranquil atmosphere. For the moment, he felt as if he were... safe? Yes, safe. For the first time in a very, very long time.

He closed his eye. He could imagine being there, in his old hometown, walking through the streets and the places he grew up in. Another time, another place, like a memory adrift in a sea of grass and eternity and the sounds of an eternal American summer.

But this was all... A fabrication.

And actually, so was this entire scene.

Zoos, after all, are the built realization of man's favorite illusion: control over nature.

The old man's jaw clenched. He sighed a really deep and disappointed sigh out of simultaneous shame and frustration. Tilting his head upwards, he saw the shimmering of the light panels across the vast dome of the sky as it touched the earth. Under his feet, he could feel the subtle rumbling of hidden machines working tirelessly. Through his bones, weather generators blew colder than a moment they did before. None such detail would escape him, nothing ever did.

The inhabitants of the zoo could never comprehend the engineering and human imagination invested in this place, but it was the old man's awareness of these things which damned him. He was too old and too jaded, too far in his Fallen state to partake in the ignorant bliss as much as he could receive the Heavenly grace. Something old, dark, and chthonic gnawed at his heart which was treacherous and full of deceit and the taste was bitter, bitter.

He simply could not go home again. It was quite impossible.
Memories of clear skies had already faded away.

Gently shaking off the dust from his feet, the Arm of the City stepped into the cabin of his personal car and bade its return to the Seed known as White Sands. The engines shuddered as the shuttlecraft took off from the orbital station and burned through the night. His right hand man had given him an all-day pass to the Metazoo with only the best of intentions, but alas, alack, such a gift was wasted on the likes of him. He hadn't even seen a single stupid animal or Pokémon during his entire visit, what a fucking ripoff.

Even though he shouldn't, the old man was going to have some very harsh words with his friend when he came back home.

And on the planet of SUNROSE below, a completely different and totally unrelated story is taking place...

Pick Race

>Orc

>Goblin

>Troll

>Bugbear

>Cyclopes

Pick Location

>Mountains

>Plains

>Forest

>Coast

This is a WiP game and some (or many) aspects of it are subject to change.
-
-
>The Setting
The Democratic Republic of Congo. About 3.5 times the size of Texas, or about the size of the United States east of the Mississippi River.

This is set after the events of the famous /k/ thread about Africa and Paratroopers

While the worst of the fighting was during the First Congo War, and the bulk of the fighting during the Second Congo War is over, the area is on track to suffer millions more deaths. These lives won't be lost in large, "epic" tank on tank battles like earlier, or the kinds of notable guerilla warfare of the "Vietnam War". No one is going to win, nothing is going to be figured out or settled. Vengeance will result in vengeance, and observers wonder if anyone involved actually has any ideology or beliefs.

And there is a lot of groups. Groups within groups, sub factions within sub factions, and factions that are puppets of puppets.

I advise you pause here and read the somewhat questionable, but entertaining /k/ "African Paratrooper thread". Otherwise...

Welcome back to Our Brave Boys, a quest that is more about worldbuilding (or loredumping) but also a somewhat light RP setting. You are all young men of 20 years of age and are part of the Nation's Apprenticeship Required for Male Youths, otherwise known as ARMY. The Nation is one of many countries of the Empire, but after decades of suppressing Republican Revolutions, the Nation emerged as the leading faction championing the Monarchy, placing the late Princess of your Nation on the throne as Eternal Empress.

The quest essentially runs as a world event where you are all common soldiers who have little control over the progression of the war, but are nonetheless free to write bits of your characters' thoughts and even subtle actions to bring life to your characters.

The Nation has a mandatory conscription policy for all young men, who must serve for 5 years after conscription at 20 years of age. Nearly a year and a half has passed since the quest started, although new boys are welcome. You might want to skim through the archive to understand the lore.

To get conscripted, please take a look at the instructions in the first thread: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6220569/

OOB2: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6258776/

The Story Thus Far
You are the junior brothers of Lexion XXI, 41st Artillery Cohort, Battery Green, Section 1. Any additional entries will overflow to Section 2 of Battery Green.

Legion XXI spent several seasons training and laboring in Japmi until the Southern Principality reported instability due to Revolutionary riots, prompting the Sovereign Marshal to order Legion XXI to be stationed across the bay from the Southern Principality. While Legion XXI was on standby, the Grand Prince of the South escaped a revolutionary coup, prompting General Reigen Mugen to push forth and establish a foothold before the revolutionaries dig in.

To most, the idea of being reincarnated into another world was a mere fantasy.

But to you...

It was reality.

Your name is John Doe, and a few months ago you got hit by a truck. After your death you met Herta, the beautiful (and perverted) Goddess of Artifice. She told you that you needed to pick a cheat skill before she could send you to one of the many generic isekai worlds available.

"Because that's heavenly policy!" She'd said.

But instead of picking between those boring options, you took the Goddess Herself and brought her with you to a world of her own creation.

This universe of hers was slapped together with 'tags' and generic fantasy themes. Some might scoff at the abundance of stale tropes and cliched genres, but things were just the way you liked them.

Well, you were still getting used to the unfamiliar logic and morality of this brave new world. Beyond being mere ideas that were held by people, these conceits extended deep into cultural thought, sculpting history and even shaping the laws of physics.

But that wasn't all this universe had in store: Soldiers, airships, mechs, clockwork robots, walking artillery units, all of these and more marched from their homeland's borders to fight in a neverending skirmish against their enemies.

Yet these modern conflicts were petty when compared to the Demon Lord's invasion. So great was that war, that the scars from that era lingered like a thorn on the side. Corruption magic threatened to destroy everything if not purged whenever it was found, despite it being many millennia since the demons were vanquished. This evil magic will grow and fester if no precautions were taken. Thankfully there were many organizations in the world that dealt with these sorts of things.

Today, gold poured from the coffers of nations as everyone clamored to get a slice of the goods and weapons available. In spite of the constant wars and battles, commerce flowed through the planet, giving and taking away fortunes in an instant.

These realities gave testament to some of this universe's priorities - war, trade, and steampunk tech.

And that didn't even mention what is blatantly the most important of this universe's conceits: Slavery. It was a fact of life. Everyone you'd met in this world approved of it and spoke about it like it was the most common thing in the world. Which, in this world's context, made perfect sense.

As Freeborn Men are people, thus women and the lower classes are considered property. Although one could argue that slavery in this world was not the same type of chattel slavery that might pop into your mind whenever someone in your old world mentioned the word 'slave'. Providing evidence to support that theory, the Bondage Accords, which are a sort of international agreement most nations adhered to, granted certain protections to the enslaved despite their legal status as objects.

Howdy everyone this quest is inspired by Tower Dungeon, Dark Souls and gritty fantasy. With a rather flexible take on the Basic roleplaying Universal Game Engine is the basis for characters, skills and combat.

_

One Hundred years have passed since the last Vexana Cosmesis influxia - The alignment of stars necessary for the correct partitions of the many seen and unseen angles of reality, allowing the beyond to grasp the physical once more.

Since that moment every hour, minute and second has been counted as Kingdoms heed the awaited dirge. For the First City has returned to the world for just ten years until it is swallowed back by the accursed void, bringing with it relics of the past and horrors of a prophesied future. Dancing along the manic death spiral of time with little reason.

Within the fabled Bed of Incongruity promises immense power and eternal life for all that sunder their way to the hidden cavity. Countless named and forgotten treasures of equal might and greater also await those mad enough to brave the damned metropolis.

The First City lies within once blessed lands, yet the centuries of isolation and exposure to distant dimensions has taken its toll, scattering the returning landscape with foreign contaminants, alien threats and unnatural constructs.

The City's interior itself is a celestial hovel of unnatural geometry as reality bleeds away at the very point where the veil between the many planes awaits, existence is only a second thought here. Many such explorers claim to have witnessed their compatriots simply uncoiling from reality and ascending to the heavens without warning.

The stars have aligned and the way is known, through the hazy miasma the Insane, Brave and Desperate rush like a tide of crashing waves against its walls.

Since the arrival of the Eilistraeans, the entire Tenpenny estate has been refurbished, many of its rooms converted to dormitories and facilities all funded by Emitia. The girl spared no expense in providing for your people, ensuring that the building is staffed and adequately supplied, insisting that Sune will provide for them until the children are grown enough to provide for themselves. While you've not acquired the artisanal techniques of your people, there are many skills that you can impart besides fighting - the survival techniques from your ranger training and affinity for dance chief among them.

But you've a more immediate concern that demands your attention - impressing upon these children the culture of the Ilythiiri that was lost with their elders. They speak the local surfacer language, are ignorant to their illustrious history, and have no understanding of who they truly are, something that you have been working diligently to remedy as of late.

The old gallery, once filled with Tenpenny's vulgar paintings, has been completely redone into a library filled with fiction and realmslore. Rows upon rows of dark wood shelves sitting on white tile, surrounding a common area, the chairs arranged in a semicircle around yourself. In attendance are the children, who sit in anticipation of your lecture, their benefactor Emitia Rouzet, High Sorcerer Lael Lathalas, and his apprentices.

What, you wonder, will be the topic of today's lesson?
>Today I will tell them the storied history of Menzoberra the Kinless, one of Lolth's most powerful priestesses and the founder of the city Menzoberranzan itself.
>It is time for a lesson on Ilythiirra. They are learning the basics of our language well enough, but it is important to review regularly..
>I will tell them more of our homeland, the Underdark, Of its many cities and peoples that inhabit it.
>[Write-in.]

See someone on discord by ncr, tell them pickles is trying to message them, I'm getting tired of retyping this due to something

Last time, the Johnny convention came to a close, including the after party. Everyone had a great time, mainly you! Free from the love of your fans, you’re on a quest to make it up with Bagna, who desires cake and nothing more. You guess, anyway, anything to make up for keeping her imprisoned in cloth.

To bake the one above all, you sought the ingredients at the nearest convenience store! But you found more than you bargained for, and had a violent encounter with some low tier thugs. Nothing happened to you, but to them? It wasn’t pretty. Mama Bodil dealt with the fallout.

Now you’re at the steps of the Prison Party House! You figured this is a good place to bake the dessert, and Lydie wanted to know about Beth. So here you are!

But to your surprise, something is afoot, after the former prisoner and actual Pirate Sally opened the door — you noticed a heatwave coming from within the house. It’s summer, but Global Warming doesn’t happen in the entirety of a room.

The scarcely dressed sailor takes a moment to come to her senses after breathing some fresh air. She welcomes you!

“Ahoy!!!” The melting pirate opens her arms in exuberant excitement! “Welcome, welcome...!” She’s still melting!

“Woah! With these attributes, I know why you wanted me to meet Beth in person, my dear trophy! You surround yourself with quality people!” Lydie looks at the bounty of this pirate. “I’m one of Johnny’s greatest admirers, Lydie! Nice to meet you! ”

“Huh? Beth? I’m not Beth.” Sally snaps out of her joyous state. “I’m Sally! Nice to meet you though! And, um, I like to admire him too.” Sally returns to her happy ways with an added hint of confusion. She wonders what being an admirer means in this context. “I’m sure you’re here for more than just Beth, right? Come in!”

“Yes! But also, above all, what’s going on in there? Something’s up?” You notice that the couch inside is warping thanks to the heat.

“Oh, the thermostat broke! It’s only spitting fire! It’s terrible! We tried to fix it, but only made it worse!” Sally scratches her head in frustration.

“Oooh! That explains why you’re light on clothes!” Lydie really likes putting emphasis on other people’s bodies.

“Huh? Y-Yeah! It’s ‘cause of the heat” Sally chuckles. “You like it?”

“I think you look great!” You nod. “I’m planning on baking a cake, do you mind if I use your kitchen?”

“Feel free! My treasure is your treasure!” Sally smiles.

You got the place and the ingredients. What you only lack is help! You don’t want to get all exhausted baking this cake all alone again…

What do you do?

>Keep your priorities. Bake the cake first. Find a tag team partner! Kushi is still in here, isn’t she? Find her!
>Keep your priorities. Bake the cake first. Find a tag team partner! Kata is the one and only for this recipe, isn’t she? Call her!
>Help fix the thermostat. Somehow. Can you do any better?
>Ask Sally what she’s been up to. You can tell she’s been busy!
>Write In.

You've died.

You can't quite remember how it happened, you remember screaming and the crunching noise of metal on metal. You remember feeling pain and scared for only a split second. The glitter of crushed glass beneath your collapsing body. And then... Then what?

Then nothing.

You die and then you wake up.

Cold silk. The soft drip of rain drops against large windows. The muffled, chaotic heartbeat of a grand estate in full movement, like a buzzing hive. People laughing all around you, you're surrounded by a crowd of men and women dressed in elegant clothes; talking to you, smiling to you, vying for your attention.

You flinch, and everything is wrong: the portrait on the wall, the candlelight, your dress... You know these details. You've seen them before... not in life, but in fiction.

So shocked, in fact, that you've dropped the glass of wine you'd been holding mere seconds before, and it breaks on impact, splashing the wide, long skirt of your dress with red like a blood stain. Everyone's attention is on you. And a handsome man with dark hair and dressed in an old-fashioned military uniform approaches, handkerchief in hand.

He talks, but your head's roaring, and can't really focus on what he says. You're panicking, you need to get out.

He tries to get you to stay still, and you pull away, choking, suffocating. You need to get out. You need to escape. Panic's got it's ice-cold grip around your throat, around your heart and you manage to pull away, but whoever this man is he seems to understand what's happening and instead of forcing you to stay he herds you out into a balcony overseeing a beautiful rose garden that surrounds the manor you're in.

There's no denying it anymore. You're in Crimson Grace of the Rose Bride a game you played back in... Back in the before.

You are Gamma the Lich. Your phylactery was found by an elf mage and shattered, but you had a last resort kind of deal you prepared with one of your servants, a wicked druid called Sima, where upon your phylactery being broken your soul would escaped and instantly be reincarnated on someone random somewhere.

A few years of unconsciousness passed in a flash, and lo and behold, you're a teenage girl in some backwards village. Seems like you're being gangraped by orcs.

Oh well, so that was the traumatic event that would awaken you the druid spoke about.

You consume the fraying soul of your host and regain a sliver of your magical powers.

You'll make sure to use them wisely.

There is still the small issue that a bunch of orcs are raping you though...

You got enough magic to cast 10 levels of spells. You do know some wicked epic level spells you could cast, but honestly, seems like an overkill.

You basically know every single necromantic spell ever, even some no one else knows.

How will you solve this small problem?

Pick race and location

You are a powerful magician who was once an adventurer. After amassing a large fortune, you recently finished building a tower near a small village. Now is the time for you to begin your research, whatever you're interested in researching.

Select race of your villagers.

Select name, gender and type of magic of your magician (can be any element or combination of elements)

Select one unique perk for your magician (could be special backstory, an unusual ally, membership in a strange society, a powerful artifact, etc)

The locals call the city Shuǐmén. In the commontongue of the Northwest, it is better known as River’s Mouth.

It is called one of the so-called Three Sacred Treasures of the Goldenriver Men of the Far East; of them, it is perhaps the most renowned. Its spice, silk, porcelain, and especially their alchemical medicine is so world-renowned that the merest scent of them can lure Man, Dwarf, and Elf from across the desert-dry and bandit-besieged expanses of the Goblin Wastes, or through the warring beastman chiefdoms of the cold rim of the world. It is said that the great alchemical philosophers of the Goldenriver Race, whom they call ‘cultivators’ in their commontongue, can turn water to wine, lead to gold, and rejuvenate the elderly so that they may be young again.

You came seeking one such man who went even further than that.

His name was Ziwei Bo, the enigmatic and outwardly-unimpressive proprietor of the Emporium of Wonders. To a layman, his shop was just one more overstuffed bargain bin of magical and alchemical curiosities. Neither shop nor shopkeeper was as they seemed, though, as the most learned hedgemages and occultists of the East alone knew. Ziwei Bo was a lich, and his emporium a demiplane where even Death Himself, the Lord of Endings, could not find and claim the undead cultivator’s soul.

At least, not until you showed him the way.

Ilvermorny Quest continues after a brief hiatus due to life!

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/7obcbksu


You are normally Jennifer Sanders. Twin sister to Emily Sanders. Proud Witch and part Veela daughter to a line of Purebloods that can go back 1000 years on your dad’s side; all the way to Lord Salazar Slytherin. Your dad, sister, yourself are likely his only remaining pure descendants it would seem. Are the last True Seer to be born for quite a time following part of your soul being hurt and put back in wrong.

Right now, you are attending Ilvermorny school of Witchcraft and Wizardry which your twin who you share part of your soul with, and your genius if slightly autistic and abused best friend, Macy Nicole Wright both of whom followed you to America. Begun to make many new friends, new members of your Coven, including a kind, paranoid schizo with enough guns to start a war named Aubrey Thompson who has abnormal strength and toughness.

Once cast the Killing Curse to save your sister and male best friend David Adams and were strongly encouraged to take time abroad when he nearly died due to his parent’s ire after he saved you and nearly died.

And? After a handsome, sandy-haired boy got you on the trail? You have begun to search for your ancestor’s wand to keep it from the hands of someone who would use it for Evil. Will claim it with your sister to stop a disaster you were told of by a tiny version of yourself born from the Curse in your dreams and who may be Evil.

Last time, you had a good day at the Library, met a kind man, revealed your goal to Aubrey and others. Investigated a famous tree and recovered the necklace of the Dark Witch Gormlaith Gaunt, another relative of Lord Salazar, since you felt it would be important.

But? For the moment, you are not a girl with two grim Prophesies hanging over you and your twin sister.

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[>OOC Sorry for the absence. Mega update time!

>POV Shift!

>You are Anna-Beth Williams. Proud daughter to a no-maj father who served with one of your DADA professors doing somethings he could not talk about and a Witch who worked as Wizarding PI and occasional Curse-Breaker. You are the unwilling bearer of Lycanthropy from an attack when you were seven. It took 9 years and the help of the kindest girl you ever met; you best friend Aubrey Thompson, but you had come to terms with the Curse. No longer believed it made you less than human and with all their help? You had learned to control it very well; to use it to your advantage.

To not hate or fear yourself.

Not much at least.

And right now?

"It was a simple game, downloaded by children with unrestricted internet access in an era long passed. Trends came and went, websites lived and died, and eventually Tricky Treats Online faded from the eyes of the next generation. The children who roamed the instanced streets of Tricky Treats were now adults, and this game -- frozen in time -- were the remnants of their childhood." -From the analysis video "The Real Game that Really Killed"

You are Margot Merriweather, a woman of order who - despite being a child at the time - opted to play as a "Grown Up Ghoul" embracing the decoration and design of the in-game "Haunted Houses". After a decade of being away from the game, you decided to make a new character, just to peak in and relive those years for a few moments.

Nostalgia was the only thing that seemed to pause your now busy life, so occasionally after getting suitably tipsy you dip into the past. Perhaps in reliving, you gain a further appreciation for the present moment, thus making the seconds more palpable; Or maybe it's pure delusion, and the reality is you're spending your weekend alone again, desperately trying to be a kid. As judgemental as you might feel towards your own desires, you allow yourself to be under this spell, log in to your old account, and add a new profile.

Halloween is that one time of year where all the children conquer any social misgivings for the sake of mountains of sweets. This year - however - is different, because among the candy being given, there are sure to be some Tricky Treats!

Tricky Inc. threw its hat into the candy business, and their product - Tricky Treats - exploded in popularity. Kids can't get enough, Adults can't get enough, and even the monster under your bed wants that Tricky taste!

So what are you waiting for, get out there and do what it takes to snag a bag full!

Choose your Class! :

>Sugar Gobbler (Ring the doorbell, get the candy, ring the doorbell, get the candy... Wanna trade?)

>Trickster (Cough up the candy, or some toilet paper might go flying..!)

>Grown Up Ghoul (I HATE these Tricky Treaters!!!)

>Rent-a-Cop (Protect and Serve! ... After eating some confiscated confectioneries!)

>Minimum Wager (Working on Halloween? This sucks dude!)

You are Phlegna, the underworld goddess of plague. The world has just been ravaged by a cataclysm, and although you had nothing to do with it, you got empowered by the ensuing generalized bad health. Most of the old gods were killed or driven away. You escaped your prison while more powerful and far more evil deities made their escape into the outer planes. You thought about escaping as well, but the material plane right underneath your sacred stars was just - rather empty. You don't think there are more than 100,000 souls in the entire world. Most deities think this is too scant a meal to bother, so you're alone - for now. You are now looking for a particularly gifted individual or group that you can empower so as to restart your ancient cult. And who knows - maybe this time around you'll achieve divine supremacy.

Searching far and wide, you find only small scattered groups. There are a few representants of most races, but they are all scattered. There are places where members of the same race are continents apart, with little hope of ever rejoining. You look around for a resilient little group, and you find a race of:


> Humans
> Elves
> Dwarves
> Gnomes
> Orcs
> Undead
> Demons
> Ratfolk
> Write in

Now is the time of deepest gloom, when the night stretches out for hours like a dragon grasping upwards to the moon. The air crackles and snaps from sharp cold and frost, reminding the people of Karn that the cycle of the seasons must begin anew.

It is the time to journey to the edge of winter to chisel a fragment of sweet spring and bring it home...

Welcome to a casual one shot quest fantasy quest. I hope to churn out a post every 2 or 3 days.

It's time to go on a journey!

You...

>Defend and obey, wielding sharp blades of blessed bone and resilient cudgels of holy wood in defense of the young mistress...
>Tend to the sacred flames that keep the dark at bay, singing the songs of blessing and spinning tales of wonders...
>Pull the sledge forward; the yoke is light to someone gifted with strong legs and a strong back but how you long to see the end of your service...
>Bleed for all, the old master decided send you out on the journey to shoulder all wounds if it's necessary....
>Minister to the needs of the young mistress and party, you also hold the key to the coins and other valuables for everyone...
>Travel along with the group as a mere servant; you've always longed to see what lies outside the village...

You're Soijak. You wake up in the morning, expecting to see your wife fucking her bull Tyrone. However, both of them are mysteriously missing. You look out the window into your walkable city, expecting to see people walking and playing Jefre Cantu-Ledesma, but it's completely empty. All the other pods near where you live are empty as well, and it seems like a complete ghost town. What do (You) do?

3rd of Sun's Dusk, 4E 171.

The sun rises over the Goldmoor, along the southern coast of Hammerfell. Here, the harsh desert that the region is known for gives way to green scrubland, thanks to the humid air of the ocean and the pleasant chill of winter. This is where the River Tark flows into Hew's Bay, and where the city of Taneth stands proud. Thousands call this port home and ply their trades within its walls and as one of its many guards, it is your job to ensure the safety of these people.

You work for the Imperial Guild of Bailiffs, as a sworn officer and enforcer of the Emperor's law. You have been keeping the streets of Taneth safe for over two years and just a month ago, your service was rewarded with a promotion. You are now a sergeant, the leader of your very own patrol, comprised of yourself and two other officers. It's not much, but the responsibility that you have been given is still a sign of trust, and an opportunity for you to prove yourself in the eyes of your superiors. With a little luck, you'll continue to climb the ranks and eventually claim a position of true authority.

It won't be easy. Hammerfell is a vicious and unforgiving place and its people, the Redguards, are not unlike the land that they call home. They are divided into many factions, though most of the region is split between two of them – the Forebears and the Crowns. The Crowns claim to be the descendants of the Na-Totambu, who ruled over the lost Redguard homeland. They remain true to the ways of their ancestors and shun Imperial doctrine. The same cannot be said for the Forebears, who have abandoned the old gods in favour of the Eight Divines of the Empire. This cultural divide has been the cause of great enmity between the two groups for centuries, an animosity that is unlikely to die down anytime soon.

Thanks to its proximity to the Imperial heartland of Cyrodiil, Taneth is considered a Forebear city and most of its population are proud to call themselves citizens of the Empire. However, not everyone that lives within the city's walls has abandoned the old ways. There are a rare few who stay true to the traditions of the Na-Totambu and bury their resentment deep within their hearts, so that they may live among the Forebears.

ANOTHER HOUR TICKS BY as your fingers glide across your phone's keyboard. Chatting with randoms from the internet seems to be the only thing preventing you from sticking your face into the frying oil out of boredom. You check the clock on your phone: 12 PM. You can't help but sigh. You still have 5 HOURS until the end of your shift, but you have yet to TAKE YOUR LUNCH BREAK.

You are TWENTY-ONE (21) YEARS OLD. You hold an ASSOCIATE'S DEGREE IN SOCIAL MEDIA MARKETING because a cute girl you liked during freshman orientation told you she was pursuing it. It is one of your biggest regrets. You are an EMPLOYEE at BIG M BURGER, off the corner of First and Market. You've enjoyed eating here as a kid for years, and now it's the only place in town that'll hire you with your degree. The food is subpar, but it's not the worst thing to eat for free during your lunch break.

You would really like to see your life improve sometime soon, but for now, texting takes the edge off of how shitty your existence is.