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This board is for author-driven collaborative storytelling (i.e., "Quests"). In a quest there is a single author who controls the plot of the story and who drives the creative process. They can choose to take suggestions from other posters, or not, at their sole discretion. Quests can be text-based, image-based, or a combination of the two. Drawfaggotry is strongly encouraged!

To facilitate the author-driven nature of quests, /qst/ differs significantly from other boards in that the OP of a thread is considered the quest's author, and has some basic text formatting abilities: [b], [i], and color tags [red], [green], and [blue]. Therefore, only those people willing to put in the effort to be a quest author should post threads. If you do not intend to run a collaborative story, do not post a thread here! This includes meta-threads.

Dice rolling follows /tg/'s format (e.g., "dice+2d6" without the quotes in the options field rolls 2d6).
Current board settings:

Anyone can post images.
Anyone can use painter.
Anyone can use dice & spoilers.
Only OP can use text formatting.
3000 character limit.
750 bump limit.
Decreased post timer to match /tg/ (30 seconds for text, 60 seconds for an image reply).
Automatic permasage after 72 hours.
Thread specific user IDs.
Max threads per IP is 5.
Standard 7 day internal archive.

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Only months ago, you were a mere human farm-boy, but now, you are a wizard, a being of unmatched arcane potential. You've traveled to Trunik, a lawless mining town, to acquire fresh vegetables and reliable tools, and after negotiating mutual gain for secrecy with an elven antiquarian, you've gotten more than you'd bargained for. Already, you've enchanted six pick-axes, each of them worth as much, if not more than your cabin in gold, and received the gift of the Seer's Sight Obscurer, a mysterious stone which hides your arcane aura from prying eyes.

At the moment, you find yourself in the Jester's Fling, a relatively high-class establishment, for no other reason than to satisfy your curiosity. You're approaching a table to interject in an adventuring party's conversation with a visibly shaken peasant, and judging by the annoyed sighs, harsh glares, and calloused hands resting on handles, you get the impression your interference isn't welcome.

> Roll three 4d20 for the Adventuring Party's composition and temperament

Here's the character sheet, for reference. Let me know if anything's missing.

> The Wizard

> Magical Skills:
> Enchantment 3
> Geomancy 1

> Mundane Skills:

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There's so many possibilities, so many choices you can't possibly choose, so you'll go with the simplest. You get on your knees, crouch down the face the sprite, and gently extend your hand to face it. The sprite is completely passive and shows no sign of initiative until you say, "How about a high-five?" and wince as a sudden whiplash of water arcs across your palm.

Even though the wince was more in surprise than pain, it's still embarrassing and you're glad no-one but the sprite was around to see it. "Poor form, but nice for a first. We'll have to work on that, won't we?" The elemental's utter lack of response conveys no feeling one way or another, and you're a bit disappointed to realize that it won't make for good company, at least at its current level of intellect. "Uh, alright then. Could you watch the door, and wake me up if anyone tries to break in?"

Its only response is to turn to face the entrance, and after five minutes of watching it do nothing but sit in place, with the occasional shake or bubble, you decide you're secure to sleep. And oh, what a sleep it is.

> The Wizard is Well-Rested, and gains a +5 bonus to any magic rolls for the rest of the day!

A nobleman might find the room's accommodations the bare minimum necessary, but for someone that's spent months sleeping on the side of the road and cut logs, it is nothing short of paradise. It almost hurts to abandon such luxury, even moreso when you've only been in bed a mere four hours, but you reassure yourself that you'll have the rest of the night to wallow in it. As soon as you've enchanted that elf's pick-axes, that is. You pop open the vial, set it on the floor, and whistle. Immediately grasping your intent, the water sprite re-enters the container, then you cork it shut, and put it in your pocket for perfect portability. When you enter the attic, Djaylor is deep into an ancient book and does nothing when he sees you but gesture toward a pile of pick-axes neatly stacked knee-high on the floor.

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Rolled 4 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

Here we go lads.

>*crouch down next to the sprite

My apologies for the slow updates, but I've hit a bit writer's block and my wifi's cripplingly slow. Looking forward to getting back to the cabin, and to the mystic meat of the quest's bones.
One of the worst rolls I've ever rolled.

So am I, wonder if the harpies are going to demand another 'deal.'

>*a bit of writer's block

That, and as I've mentioned, I've been writing on a tablet.


I am truly honored anon, and that heavily depends on the result of a few background rolls. I'm not willing to delve into spoilers, so let's just say the sudden influx of fresh meat has had a tremendous impact on the harpies.

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The rainbow-spectrum of stars overhead lights the night as well as any moon might, if there was a moon in this place. You are Alice Cherna, once an ordinary teenage girl, now Demigoddess, and possible embodiment of death. You lay on a beach that you were no convinced was the product of a dream and you were calling to the being you suspected was the engineer of that dream. The God Baphomet, your protector and your suitor in a way.
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Definitely this


"I'm sorry," you say. "I'm sorry but I'm not ready. I still have so much suffering left to feel as a human." You give a half smile, you're only half joking after all. "After all, it's not the first time I've experienced loss. You probably forgot humans deal with death every day of their lives. Some more than others. This is no different. It's one more thing for me to experience. It's a part of being human, I'll just be more aware of it than others."

He sags slightly{You really are an amazing person, Alice. I understand, of course. It may sound pathetic, but I know you have an eternity to change your mind.}

"Why don't you change first?" you say.


"You've been human with me. I liked you as a human. Why not live with me as a human for a while. It might help you gain some humanity back after all."

The black-faced entity stares at you. {As a human? As Michael?}

"Yes." You smile.

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That's it for Spooky Girl Quest.

10/06/2017 - 7/20/2018
35 Sessions total

Thanks so much for playing. It really means a lot to me everyone who stuck through the ups and downs of this quest. Especially staying up late on a Thursday. I cannot overstate how much that means to me. I hope that SpookyQM (wherever he is) will be proud of what his quest became. I learned a lot about characterization, plot, and especially pacing while running this game.

Thanks so much to everyone for having patience with me and reading along. I hope I'll see you all in my future projects!

If you want to hang out and chat, please come by my Discord and stay in touch.


Thanks for playing!
Thank you TK,
Not just for running the quest but for doing it decently well.

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You three! Get those fires over there, under control! And you! Quit crying over your dead buddy, and fire at those damned cultists! If we can't push them back, then we're all dead like him anyway!

>A continuation of the shitshow from >>2737330

>What is this?
Free-form roleplay set in the grim darkness of the far future of Warhammer 40,000. Based off of threads that used to happen over on /tg/. Until recently, we were going under the name "field kit inspection".

>When do you guys make these threads?
Usually Saturdays at 11:30am Eastern Standard Time. Although we'll often make a new thread throughout the week, if we hit the bump limit early on

>Can I join in?
Sure, just think of a character and have fun, you can find most info in 1d4chan albeit it's ussually a little bit out of date in comparison to where the threads are.

>Is there any requirement in character creation?

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Rolled 42 (1d100)

>Attempts to run towards the boys
>Is pretty scorched
Rolled 4 (1d20)

>Rolls to use Shan the Warbossm as a shield
>Brick passes out most of the great he looted, he doesn't actually need most of it.
Rolled 85 (1d100)

>Attempts to run towards the other boy
>Takes several gut hit's spreading more orkz spores
I'm not a bloody xeno
Rolled 12 (1d20)

>Attempts to use his ork choppa as a meat shields

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>What is this?
This is the Renegade Regiment, a freeform RP . In this quest, you play Renegade guardsmen and chaos cultists under the command of Commander Irvis as the regiment struggles against the shackles of the Imperium

>Can I join?
Sure, join right in. For now, you’re restricted to having your character be a human or abhuman/mutant. Also of course, they have to be the kind of person to worship or at least work with the Chaos Gods.

>Can I have multiple characters?
Yes as long as you don't use it to powerplay.

>How do you play?
We tend to use spoilers for OOC chat, but nothing is set in stone.
We tend to use greentexts for describing a character's actions, but again nothing is set in stone.
Use d20s for combat checks and d100s for other things you want to roll, higher Is better.

Discord Link: https://discord.gg/Ge8ybTz
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"Mmm... you're pretty good. But we did not ask what you would allow us to call you, we asked what you wanted to be called."

Brunhilde was happy how Catalina was enjoying her massage, though she would giggle a bit at what Catalina had to say, responding by saying "That's what I meant! Call me whatever you desire the most, be it Brunhilde, Brunny, Slave, or anything else you can think up, I am yours after all."
"So... you are ours? Completely and utterly? You hwill follow us over all others?"

"Yes, my mistress, so long as it truly pleases you. I want to always be by your side so I can always please you, but I know I can't until you are free and Jaan gives me to you, at least to some extent."
>Catalina smiles and hugs Brunhilde.

"We accept your subservience forever and always."

>She looks Brunhilde's face over

"Hmm... we really do need to come up with a new name for you. This new path in your life deserves it. Anyways, if it is to make you happy, we will ask for emancipation so that we can keep you ourselves!"

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Welcome to Knightress Quest #2

You are Bonny Francis. A female adventurer within the kingdom of Alaraim. Known for being one of the top adventurers within Alafen's adventurer's guild, you also used to be a knight within the Knight's Order. A organization within Alaraim stemming from its military. The Order branches from aiding and assisting the royal family as the Royal Guard, to being under the service of the church as the Paladins.

Currently your main weapons of choice are a greatshield and gauntlet. Offering exceptional defense but lacking in many other areas deeply.

- Voting and rolling periods are usually 20 min.
- Rolls are mostly 1d100 best of three. Dice may vary depending on situation.
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>>"I'm ain't drunk old man!"
Deadpan voice, showing clearly we are drunk

>"I'm ain't drunk old man!"
Il show you by dancing the dance of my people
"I ain't drunk old man," saying in a deadpan voice much like Tania's.

"You sure are my friend. Come, come! You can talk off the alcohol with the rest of generals. After all, tonight is a night of fun!" Manavich proclaimed, pulling you by the hand.

Coming back to the main area you see quite a sight. As the night went on, more of us got intoxicated.

Tania's in a corner with a sadistic smile on her face.

Varma is venting on Drogger on how the wizard Kaya destroyed her soldiers. Her wings flapping furiously.

Baxtor is...staring off to nothing, looking like he's having a existential crisis.

Melia is a sobbing mess.

Drogger's fine.

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>>>Go talk with Tania, she looks like she's gonna murder someone
>Go talk with Tania, she looks like she's gonna murder someone
We must "adopt" the maid as a friend/baby sister. And we'll end up befriending her and become close and make us remember about the good times we had with our family.
Which we're totally gonna use as a emotional powerup moment when the hero goes full retard and murders her right before our very eyes and we turn into the Butcher of Humanity

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I was rummaging through the scrapyard, shrouded in the night as always when I saw the ghostly light hidden by the rubble. I closed in and saw a girl buried in between twisted metal and discarded machines. Her legs were trapped below an industrial wood carver and had only one arm, the other cut at the shoulder, where a bunch of wire and delicate components were visible.

I felt nausea and the hair at my nape standing up. My vision became blurry and my breath choked as I tumbled down the pile of trash I was in.

I ran back to my Shop, but I stopped in my tracks in front of the Bakery. It’s lights were on and smoke rising from the chimney so I walked towards it and banged on the door.

“Baker you have to help me” I said while knocking on it. “Quick please”

The door was flung open, revealing Baker’s angry visage. “Stop screaming Cobbler. What’s going on, why are you so upset.” She folded her arms below her bosom, awaiting for an answer so I said “You have to help me- she’s not well, she is in trouble I can’t get her out, I need your strength”

She took a deep breath and said “I will follow you along, but don’t get me into trouble”

And so we ran back to where I found her and there she was, just as before. The only tool I had with me was a

> Scarber. Used to inscribe runes into things, awakening spirits. Sygaldry

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My dreams are interrupted by a voice “Cobbler, Cobbler” someone calls my name.

“Cobbler you better have my rent. I have waited long enough” The rent! I open my eyes and right myself out of bed. How could I forgotten… I had to finish those repairs and make up more money, I haven’t paid the rent for three months now.

“I am coming” I scream and climb down the ladder, to see Landlord inside my shop (He has keys and lacks empathy). He’s eyeing the automaton, giving it odd looks but talks without taking off his eyes of it.

“This is a new project, Cobbler? You should work hard fixing your tins or whatever and pay me, like any adult should do. And you reached that age a while ago.” He says in a soft voice. An oddity, he is much more blunt and demanding. “I hope you will pay up. Someday” His last word is bitter, and he leaves my shop without closing the door.

I let out a sight and look at what I should have done in the morning. Looks like it’s time for tea already. That leaves me with enough daylight to finish one project, I hope.

“I will have to put off lunch for later” I say, dragging my feet to my work bench.

I have these repairs to do.

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>>Renovate an alembic. This is a cheap one made of Tin. This is my forte as I can use my magic to clean the grime from the inside and make it look more slender. The work is complex yet easy. The drawback is that the unlicensed alchemist doesn’t not pay well.
>>Renovate an alembic. This is a cheap one made of Tin. This is my forte as I can use my magic to clean the grime from the inside and make it look more slender. The work is complex yet easy. The drawback is that the unlicensed alchemist doesn’t not pay well.
Keep voting! I will study something interesting for tomorrow.


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"Update tonight?" Edition
Official discord: discord.gg/eRzTbvc

>The Gods and Demi of the Old World waged war, shoving shoulder to shoulder until their realm was forgotten. The Old World forgotten and ruined, in fractures of time and arcana, a new world is born amongst the chaos.

>You are a being of creation, what people of this realm may come to call a Creator or a Daemon. You are a being born with innate knowledge and arcane power.
>It feels only right to fill this empty terrain with your own creations.

(Working on a little project that will revamp this because pastebin big gay)


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>>2649927 Valakor
Construction III developed.
Espionage developed. Best used through DMs with me, may cost valkaplasm on use.
Messenger Birds developed. -1 White Sand. -2 Shorebell Wood.
Vessel III developed. -3 Shorebell Wood. -1 White Sand. -2 Swamp Rope.

>>2652683 Librarian
To the south, the Yotiles encounter many forests, mountains, and further south.... the energy of a foreign divine presence.
Syrconite Mine developed.
Martial Arts developed. +2 MPO. -1 Silvercry Wood.
Syrconite magic begins investigation.

>>2661620 Kolithe
Your magic research team discovers the ice flower's arcane ability to alter one's form to their desires, as an arcane illusion however. -1 Ice Flower.
Cooking developed. +1 Affinity.

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[2] Develop

The Urchynn, bless 'em, took the idea to improve their mine but went and upgraded the wrong one. But never mind, we can use more Syrconite! And now we have the process, this time we can upgrade the Thaumite mine in the same way.

[2] Develop

The Urchynn have been growing rain thistle for a while, mostly because it smells so very nice indeed. But now some Urchynn start investigating the fresh-smelling plant for Medicinal use, developing the concept of medicine.

[2] Develop + [14] Divine Influence

Tigyogg has a task for herself and her little dearies. Using Applewood and Thaumite she starts her Urchynn working on wands, carved branches pre-prepared with chambered sigils. With these items, she hopes, her Urchynn will be able to reflect, counter or subdue hostile magics that might come to be unleashed against them.

>Explore [2]

Push further south into the territory of this divine presence, try to observe it before contact.

>Half-Develop [1]

Finish the crafting of Syrconite trinkets, be it amulets, earrings, bracelets, or such accessories. The goal is to have them engraved with an incomplete magic circle and one or two moving parts, that will be used to "close" the circle. Thus allowing the Yotiles to have a quick way to react to magic threats.
Already know syrconite magic. This is for portable anti magic gear

>Terraform [3] + DI

Terraform the lands directly south to my island to gain more footing there.
Terraform 1M and 1N 30 and 31. Terraform = 1, DI = 3
Explore Westward
(I dunno how much, keep going from 1O-16)
We must reclaim our lands now that the blood-fiends have fallen silent!

[1] Half Develop
Finish Snow Gathering

[2] Quarry
Quarry Clay
That island off our shore, the tall Mesa jutting from the sea. (1V-15) The clay-rich soils shall yield to us!

[1] Divine Influence + Develop

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You are weighed down by chains, your sight and smell obscured by a muzzling mask. The only thing that provides any sense of direction are the weak tugs of your chains, and the furiously beating heart of the tiny thing holding them. Her breathing is sharp, and each of your lumbering steps is met with a weak whimper. She must be terrified.

You keep walking, accompanied only by the little thing's whimpers until...

"By the gods, that one is huge!" A voice you would wager is male shouts, and you can feel the little thing holding your chains almost jumps out of her skin. As she tries to calm her breathing, the man approaches.

"So that's the one your master bought this morning, eh, Carla?" The man says walking to the girl and whistling at your size.

"Y-yes. H-he's going to fight tomorrow, so m-master made me carry him here." The girl says.

"Is that so? I wouldn't like to be the one facing him in the sands, let me tell you that. Your master made a good purchase."

Unceremoniously, the man grabs the chains from Carla and keeps guiding you deeper into the caves. A while later, the tugging stops, and you hear keys jingle and a door open.

"Here's your room for the night, big lizard. Move in, and forgive me if it smells like animals: it's where we keep the beasts. You aren't going to fit anwhere else." Once you're inside, the cell being surprisingly spacious enough to move in easily, the man closes the cell's door. Before reopening it.

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Yeah, but even strong as we are if we just kill her now we’re going to get executed. Better to wait for a proper opportunity, when they wouldn’t suspect us, or we at least wouldn’t receive the brunt of the blame.
Didn’t we kill our kin because they refused to battle and shed blood like we did? But yeah, not got any interest in serving the girl. She’s a means to an end at best, and a snack for later at worst.
>She’s a means to an end at best, and a snack for later at bestest.
It’s a matriarchy anon
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So they're all mothers? When was this stated.
It’s joke and matriarchy as in women in power

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Please be gentle it's my first time doing something like this.

As the last member of any great magic clan, you were expected to restore it into its former glory. Alas, the ancient texts explaining the use of your unique power have been lost, all mentors gone from the incident that made you the final man or hunted down by old enemies.

Born into a branch family of the clan you displayed great talent since young, however after the disaster two old servants who owed many a favor to your late grandfather started taking care of you at about age 8, eventually leaving the world of magic behind and leading the life of a common human, at least until you joined that shabby dojo deep inside an alley.

Run by a drunkard whose drinking was only surpassed by his ability with a sword, you quickly developed an interest in the path of the blade, which grew stronger as you studied with your other two fellow pupils.

Now you have left your home in order to hone your sword, your trip leading you to the depths of South Sudan's forests. The calls of a group of monkeys wakes you up from your short sleep and startled you look around.

"Why the hell was I here again?" is the first thing you ask yourself.

>Someone found leads on your missing teacher
>You're here to deal with a particular group of human traffickers

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Rolled 1 (1d20)

>>Call your dealer, there might not be enough time and it's up to you to solve before it's too late. (roll 1d20)
Okay, you can't really leave this alone.

If you're going to infiltrate the facility you'll need more firepower than you have rigt now. So you'll call mortimer for the third time today, maybe you get a discount after 5 orders.

You go through the line switching but the call dies halfway and you can't pick up signal regardless of where you are in the house. You walk outside towards the town but nothing happens.

The ground shakes violently and it's only then that you turn around towards the mountain, noticing the sky above it has a purple hue.

>Check on Mizuki
Roll 1d20
Rolled 11 (1d20)

>Check on Mizuki Roll 1d20
Let's hope my luck changes
You rush back inside to see if mizuki is fine, thankfully she is and you didn't walk in on her getting dressed either, you tell her to bring the ice cream from the kitchen while you bring the goods you got earlier and start working with them.

The original idea was to use part of the mandragora powder and corrupted water to make a base, which you would then mix with a couple domestic prodcuts to make a low purity hallucinogen for interrogation purposes.

Now you're just using it all to make a special ink.

Your phone rings and it's Mortimer, who you explain what might be taking place, the guy's completely quiet through the whole thing, then he sighs and asks. "And what are you going to do about this?"

"I want to stop it" is your answer, you can hear him sigh even harder.


"Dynamite, I know you can find people able to deal with this, what's going on in here is already beyond my capabilities."

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>Head to the facility as soon as you're done

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The old world ended, perhaps without even a final whimper. No songs shall be song of the tragedy that led to the end of days and nights. No grand plays will tell of the last heroes who desperately fought to keep a spark burning before they, like the light they so cherished were snuffed out. For all who could care to tell such legends now lie long rotten and dead, and those that remain have no care left for such fanciful things as stories of gods and heroes. For this once beautiful, and wondrous world of peace and prosperity has been left to all manner of beast and monster. Upon fields that haven't seen war for generation, the blood of the divine lies spilled in great lakes and ravines. In the once great halls of learning, twisted abominations that could once call themselves men, howl and wander aimlessly in their mindless pain fueled rage. The cities built and wrought by the hands of gods themselves have been turned to ruined crypts and monuments to the untold souls entombed within them.

Though it'd be hard to do, if you perhaps asked one of the unfortunate who remain by some twisted joke of luck, or some jest of chance, they could not tell you what heralded the swan song of their now ruined reality. maybe some would say it was when the painter of dreams lost what little sanity was left in their soul, and became unraveled among their art, and thus empowered it to break free and consume the dreamers that commissioned it all, turning them into monsters born of hope and desire. Or maybe the world was not doomed till the twin gods of lust and love had their hearts pierced by the spite of all those they had led astray, for so many countless years, and so snuffed out the passions they could whisper into the hearts of men, turning those who could be warmed into better men into stone hearted beasts. One could argue that it was when the warden of the wild found himself entrapped by the forests he had tended and commanded, set upon by the beasts he had been so certain were tamed by his and only his hand. Surely a horde of beasts glutted upon godly flesh and blood would signal the end of a good many tales, the now colossal monstrosities now rampaging through the wilds as the untamed lands themselves marched on civilization would be the finale chord of this doomed dream.

But perhaps....perhaps with men of valor with bravery in their hearts, perhaps with godly intervention not cut short before its fruits came to bear. Perhaps even after that, the world could be saved, repaired and find a new niche in the now savage reality it had become.

But those are but mere ponderings now. perhaps. a word uttered so many times by those scholars who witnessed the end, the words of the princess praying to now empty thrones for the salvation of their loves who marched to the butchering fields and wrathful jungles, or held the line in their own cities of monstrosity born of their own dreams.

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All these years, and you still can't write proper english.

A fucking disgrace.
Why do you care? this isn't a book or similar, its a game above all else. And games need to move with some speed
I think the writing style fits the quest quite well. The only thing that throws me is the occasional use of modern slang, which kind of breaks the immersion at times. Other than that, it's pretty great.
>"General, a giant lesbian dragon monster is attacking the city."
>"Again!?! Have you called that lesbian tree to tame her?"
>"No, we're trying, but no response from her phone."
>"My god...we are doomed."
I am so going to use this in the script of any movies May may end up staring in in the quest

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The soothing burble of water is not enough to calm your nerves as you approach the marker stones. The soft spray from the waterfall only mixes with your cold sweat. You've reached your destination. The intricate, flowing patterns on the walls before you, pretty though they might be, warn you of this place's true nature. Magic. You hear the message loud and clear: you shouldn't be here. All your life you've heard the tales of people better prepared and more daring than you seeking this place out. Every single story ends with the mysterious disappearance of the seeker. There's a new one every year.

Every time it happens, it's the talk of the town. Stories of bandit attacks, recent fashion trends, dangerous wildlife and other usual gossip topics are always drowned out for a short while. The latest tale of the 'Tomb of Inaudax' is too gripping to ignore. You can't really imagine why people love talking about it so much. It's the same story every time. The same lesson. The characters might be different: A young adventurer shows up seeking fortune. A strapping young man wants to show off. An inspector comes from one of the two cities claiming this town, looking to understand the area so they can actually start taxing it. One and the same, however, the protagonist goes off to the tomb and never comes back. And that's it. The lesson: don't go there, it'll kill you.

So why in name of Dust would you even be here? Before yesterday, the most magic you'd ever seen was the beaten up plate of armor your mother insisted on keeping mounted in the shop. It never struck you as noteworthy in any way. Just a cheap, dubious claim to godly heritage intended to attract customers. If your grandparents had wanted to draw people in, they'd have been better off saying that your great-grandfather was Forge. Who cares about the god of salvage this far from the ocean? If you had to guess, you would suppose that they wanted to appear unique. Forge is a popular god, sure, but he he has a lot of kids. There are a lot of godlings and demigods of the forge out there. Enough of them, frankly, that every other smith, cobbler, tailor or what have you can claim to be related somewhere in the family.

No, you're out of your depth. These obviously magical weaves in front of you are completely beyond your modest background. The kid of a shopkeep in wild nowhere has no business messing around with the Tomb of Inaudax. You shouldn't have any idea what to do here. Only... you saw something just like this yesterday. Spectral threads flowing in the same sort of patterns embedded in these stones. You thought the object was mundane like everything else 'magical' that passed through the shop. Then you saw the threads. Then you broke the thing. Then you soaked it right up.
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You are going to fall and die. Another inglorious end for a prospective adventurer. There is no glamor in any of the traps and obstacles set by this tomb. You have to slow down and break your fall non-lethally.

>Wrap your hands and jam a climbing piton against the wall. Shoulders are overrated. Try to slow down long enough to be able to brace yourself in a corner, then climb down.

>Eve's gust of wind! Ask her to slow your descent.

>You're not sure what that gust of wind did to Eve, but it's clear it took something out of her. You don't want her to just fall into ghostly tatters. Maybe she has another trick that can save you. All you need is a handhold.

>Maybe you can somehow grab the immaterial strings? The magic has always been insubstantial, but it definitely exists on some level. There's so much of it here that if you could just touch it, you'd certainly be fine.


Whatever you choose, please roll 3d10
Rolled 3, 10, 3 = 16 (3d10)

>Wrap your hands and jam a climbing piton against the wall. Shoulders are overrated. Try to slow down long enough to be able to brace yourself in a corner, then climb down.
Rolled 3, 7, 5 = 15 (3d10)

>Wrap your hands and jam a climbing piton against the wall. Shoulders are overrated. Try to slow down long enough to be able to brace yourself in a corner, then climb down.
Rolled 4, 4, 3 = 11 (3d10)

>Wrap your hands and jam a climbing piton against the wall. Shoulders are overrated. Try to slow down long enough to be able to brace yourself in a corner, then climb down.
>Dislocate your shoulder

16, 15, 11 vs DC 15
Regular success. Writing now.

''"The old world may be long dead, and nearly all of the gods too but theirs always money to be made after the cataclysm of the heavens."'' -Nygar Tuskbreaker

Welcome to the skirmish Everwinter company, a skirmish set in a high fantasy world where mercenaries lives are weighed in silver and adventurers in gold. You have joined a small mercenary band named [Everwinter company] led by two former adventurers, a theurgist named Lenoy Lockwood, and a Hedge knight named Nygar Tuskbreaker. After making your way back to the town of Bolton, your group has been hired again to clear out a goblin cave and so with steel and silver in hand you head back to the fray.

This is a skirmish so to set some ground rules here are a few tips!
Play smart! If you feel insecure about your health don’t go charging in just because you feel confident. Always be wary, and never be afraid to ask for advice or support.
The game uses a intermediate direction for determining movement. If you look to the northeast of the image you will find a set of numbers labeled 1-6. These determine which hexes your char will be moving. 1 means north, 2 means north east, 3 means east, and so and and so forth.

>Rules: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1gyn3S8HQ4Rdny0gkLHHvQzKZnkFCu1EK1u-168cJpZI/edit

>Past thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2632389/

>Skirmishes have a discord so if you wish to join us here is a link: https://discord.gg/HM6qyC
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I think I can attempt to understand this tome, and perhaps break whatever curse is levied upon it. Sometimes, you find the best light in darkness.

Should I try?
Im wouldn't poke os- in demonic texts, mín don't baur more problems bo mín plate.
Marcus realizes he's talking gibberish still, sighs, and merely shakes his head at her.
I understand. Your word are garbled but your soul is a beacon.
Nygar looks at marcus with a quizzical look as he slowly repeats the words he says in a attempt to translate it.
"My fey is somewhat rusty, but don't worry Marcus the effect should wear off in a few minutes. So sit tight and drink some darkwood brew."
As the order of the null can preach along with the support of the navigators and witch hunters. Fire is one of the easiest ways to cleanse the earth its easy to use, and the view of a unworldly creature or node burning itself away can be therapeutic to some people.
Minutes later, and more than a few spells from the navigator later the nodes of corruption are cleansed from the earth. As the last screech pierces the air skitter heart notices her lantern begin to shine just a bit brighter as a rune inscribes itself on one of the facings and the lantern shines just a bit brighter.


Character info pastebin in progress: http://pastebin.com/iB0tb7rz
Dice odds for best of 3: http://pastebin.com/994WTT3g

General rules:

There is a 10 minute voting period after each post. Non-contradictory votes will be combined as best as possible.
Write-ins for all votes are always welcome and encouraged. They may not all make it into the post or be altered to fit in, but I'll do my best to at least try to address the spirit of the write-in.

Very important or contentious votes may be redone in a stricter voting system as circumstances warrant.

Combat mechanics involve three rolls of 1d100, taking the best, and using the base accuracy and crit ranges of the the PTU system, roughly, but the 'turn order' will be more like the anime, where sometimes you can do a few moves in a row or be hit by a combo of moves yourself, all depending on circumstances. Stronger moves tend to take more time and have more cooldown than weaker moves and also may leave you open to an interrupt, so beware of that timing. Speed is more important for closing ground, intercepting, and other things and doesn't necessarily mean going first.

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Molestation isn't really better to be fair. It's like saying that they didn't beat him, just knocked him out once. Still not a good look.
I don't even think she molested him, I'm just saying that's the worst you could accuse her of and that nothing like rape happened. They both consented to sleep together. Keira basically was just masturbating.
That's textbook molestation. She was grinding on his dick while he was asleep. Unfortunately it's not seen as a big deal because Herb is a dude. If the roles were reversed no one would be talking to Herb still.
Herb put his erection against her in her sleep and she was overwhelmed with teenage hormones and ground on it. No court of law would convict her.
It was a big deal, and it continues to be a big deal. Keira was torturing herself over that moment of weakness for weeks. Herb and her cried super hard when she told him and it took a long time (for Herb) till he could forgive her.

Welcome back to Warlord Quest you beautiful bloody bastards! I hope you're ready for bloodshed and loot, violence and hate, meathammering and cookies because by Vall's ironclad crotch you're going to GET IT.

Last time, we participated in the assault on Crescent hall and personally murdered the shit out of several tough opponents. A pair of Crescent Knights under the service of Lord Thylos proved to be a match for us however and Magnus was wounded badly, clinging to life by the skin of his teeth. Through the gates of death and back again, broken in body but sound in mind, Magnus slumbers, lingering on the threshold.

Death, the great Void itself refuses to come for him...

Another has claim....

>Character list and info sheet
>Basic info sheet on the setting

>Magnus's Character sheet

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Are we gonna do harem shit tomorrow too?
No, we got important shit to do like get our plunder and start rampaging again.
We got play with thr girls
Cant spand all thr time away there going to start fucking our boys
And not liking as us much
you drunk?
>Knock and enter

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