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Rolled 1, 5, 1, 4 = 11 (4d6)

In twelve minutes, at 11:55 pm, the last train of the day will arrive. After this train any commuters will have to buy a full days pass, and so some people stand around the platform, waiting. This area of the station is unusually quiet. The fluorescent lighting is bright and even here tonight. Someone must have paid the top rate for premium illumination. By this light you see that the stations sign has been vandalized. Where it used to read 'Welcome to HyperRail Bob, Sponsored by Railco. We are the government.' it now has red paint sprayed over most of the text to read 'Welcome to a deathtrap that claimed 10 lives' with a sloppily done adjustment made in blue to make it '11'. Probably just competition trying to get an edge and an ironist getting in on it, you hope to yourself; nothing to worry about. Silently thanking whoever has paid for this light, you review your written ledgers for the day.

After a little time passes your friend taps you on the shoulder and whispers, "Why is it so quiet in here?"

"You haven't noticed?" You reply, honestly surprised. Claire is usually more aware of her surroundings even though she doesn't wear an amplifier. "There's a Peerless Beverage Co. employee on one end of the platform and a Supreme Beverage employee on the other end." Several people quickly leave the terminal. "It's only a matter of time before one of them notices the other. People are planning what to do." The platform becomes deathly silent. "I'd also like to mention to anyone listening in that I am an accountant and am still in practicing business hours." A moment after you finish speaking you hear footsteps break the silence. Works every time.

A man in a black suit approaches another man in a shirt and tie with his face obscured by a book. He reaches his destination as smoke begins to billow around the reading man's head. The unassuming man in black moves slowly and appears unhurried as he positions a hand into for a handshake. He coughs into his other hand, once, and then utters a single sentence. "Hello sir, I'm with the government and I'm here to help."

The man in the shirt and tie closes the book sharply and spits a half smoked cigarette out onto the concrete floor. He calmly replies. "I am the government." Then draws a concealed handgun and uses both hands to level it at the first man's face. "How can I help you sir?" The book hits the ground.

>Hire a mercenary from the crowd.
>Survey the situation. (looking for what?)
>Wait to see how this plays out while talking to Claire.

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Rolled 17 (1d20)


I'm gonna try one more roll, ignore it if you like
I'll allow it.

You are too kind friend
"There's no turning back now!" The chain links shear apart and deform as your swing the ax with all your might.

"Nice." Glen slides down the side of the wall into a sitting position.

"I'll go ahead and try to get the door open." Claire slips through the gap you've made in the
chain link, widening it in the process. She turns the corner slipping out of view.

"Glen, lets go." He's unresponsive. "Come on, don't do this buddy. Get up." You do your best to lift him with your good arm, and it seems he still has a bit of strength left.

He's up now, leaning heavily on you. He whispers barely audible. "Just... leave me." You strain under your his weight, but manage to squeeze the two of you through the broken fencing.

For a short moment you panic as the cleaver stuck in his arm gets caught in a chain link, but you manage to untangle it. He didn't even seem to notice.

"Claire! This is really bad, he's barely conscious!" No response. "Claire!" You quicken your pace as much as Glen can keep up. You find her on the other side of a turn in the hallway, typing furiously on a mechanical keyboard.

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>Leave Glen here and head to the emergency room with Claire.

Speed is more important here considering we have nothing that can help him on us, no worries man thanks for coming back for little old me

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You have always dreamed of crushing all the swine of this world beneath your superior being and condemning their progeny to your service. You devoted your childhood to concocting a most ingenious plan to claim this world for your own, you invested your adolescence into training your body in order to coalesce it and are now ready to begin your Villainous Quest.

On your journey to power you joined a gang, The Spades. Along the way you gained conscripted an array of unknowing soldiers to for your fledgling empire. Currently none of them are with you.

Currently you find yourself in an almost depressingly precarious situation. A Rival gang, the Butchers, have trapped you in a dark room with a corpse and a butcher and given you an ultimatum, your arm or your life.
However with your glorious lexical abilities you have weaved a verbal trap to entangle the butcher-agent who finds your appendage to be his prerogative, so that you may escape without having lost anything beyond your entire inventory.

YOUR STATS Butchers Stats
Health:100 Health:100
Str:2 Str:10
End:6 Endurance:10
Agl:6 Agility:8
Percep:9 Perception:10
Intell:10 Intelligence:6
CHR:8 Charisma:0

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Talking to this girl is always exhausting. They both know their relationship is purely professional, one of mutual interests, but she keeps wasting our girl's time with some obnoxious buddy buddy bullshit.
After some dialectic wrangling she's put her in her place and some useful information is procured from her.

It seems that there was another gangbang in the south between the Butcher's and the Black spades. After several hours or gun fire and collateral damage The LAW finally got involved forcing the Butchers to set off several bombs that had been placed just in case they were forced into a corner. 3 inner city blocks of independent stores and low cost apartments were reduced to rubble. At Least 200 hundred died. The few survivors we the Butchers who had made pre-emptive escape manuevers.
What great news!
Hear a prayer, a song of violence, power and most importantly, vengeance.
Feel chills down your spine
Ask her if we're still on for Saturday.

Because she's clearly not a social outcast like everyone on this board.
check any updates on current operations.

Need to know if we have anything that is due soon.
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You hear a loud song of ciolence and agony that reverberates through the air and peirces your core. It's the damn school bell. It's not really a bell though it's some horrid torture device that emits a sound at a frequency only children can hear to alert them/ force them to go to school. The schools are designed to be sound proof to act as the only place of respite from the damn WWWWRRRRRRRing noise for any would be ditchers.
You ask your friend if she's still up for some "fun" on saturday.
"See, you can be nice, :). Of course I'm still up for it! I love taking risks... It's why i gamble!LOL"

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We have once more proven that the role of negotiator is not our role. In any case we did successfully manage to get the governor to tell us what is going on and give us some information on our target. none of that news was good because for one we found out our target can take tank shells and not give a shit.

in any case we have decided that now is the time to call up the one person on the ship that may actually know how to deal with these things.

Welcome to guardsman quest
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im heading off to sleep but ill be back thursday at 5 pm, you guys have three rolls left
Rolled 50 (1d100)

Rolled 38 (1d100)

Rolled 53 (1d100)

"phe'nia, look for him." you state looking at the eldar

"can't you?" she responds not exactly getting what you are asking her

"I mean with your mind, some one who is in league with the dark gods should be easy to pick out with their thoughts."

"Am I your chaos radar now?"

"yes, now get to it."

the eldar sighs and shakes her head before turning away from your and closing her eyes. a few minutes pass as she searches though the minds of the citizens around you before he eyes fly open and she smiles. "found the bastard, from what I learned it's not high ranking also kinda stupid."

you and your group leave the transport, from the lack of a riot you guess Phe'nia was using her illusion on both her and Akkaz, she points into the crowd and you follow her finger.

you find the man red cap with a extremely faded chaos star on it, a gun in one hand, heads and a knife in the other. puss and boils cover his sickly skin and his stomach was slightly bloated.

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Your name is Haskell, son of Sven. A young Norse man of about seventeen, and heir to a family that has long since begun spiralling, and a farm that has been fallow for too long. A father who lost most of his hand raiding, a mother who took ill on a sickness brought back on the longships, and a brother who’s entire raiding party hasn’t been heard from in six months, presumed lost to the sea.

That’s turning around. A local priest explained the recurring dream you’d been having: prophetic in nature, a way for Odin to let you know you’d been chosen as a Paladin, a champion of his religion along with your three oldest friends. Unfortunately, neither Odin, nor anyone else of his pantheon can contact you until you find the mythical Atlas of the Conqueror. It was last held by Charlemagne, and is rumored to be somewhere on mainland Europe. That doesn’t matter so much, though. They say you don’t find the Atlas; it finds you when it thinks you’re ready for the vast responsibility it places on your shoulders.

Important Links:
Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Norseman
Last thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/1002973/
Thread 4.5 because Handler didn’t archive it: http://archived.moe/qst/thread/835865
Thread 8.51 because Handler’s still a moron: https://archived.moe/qst/thread/1113929
Character sheet: http://pastebin.com/3YQyKhpV
Relationships: http://pastebin.com/iRfRY4kS
Hander’s Twitter: https://twitter.com/ContractorQM

[s]On my phone for the foreseeable future, so please forgive what I'm sure will be a slow pace
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Ok, you make a point. Let em know, but not with Astrid present
“Not around her,” you whisper as you nod towards Astrid. “Sensitive ears and all.”

Knut nods in understanding, and sets down the bolts he’s holding. “Astrid,” he starts, raising his voice to catch her attention. “I haven't seen Blern in a few hours. Mind finding him while we finish up in here?”

“Yeah, sure,” she replies, smiling. “Have fun, boys,” she says as she weaves her way through the stacks in the warehouse.

“That was easy,” Erik says skeptically.

“She likes that dog more than she likes me,” Knut responds with a shrug. “And it’s not hard to convince someone to let someone else to do work. Now,” he says, turning to you. “What’s so damn secret we can't talk about it in front of my sister?”

“There’s a vampire in Ireland, a pretty old one.” Anders groans and Erik’s face sinks into a scowl. “He has a book, and the crones want it. If I bring it to them, they’ll give me a choice of enchantments to choose from.”

“Haskell,” Knut says slowly after a brief silence. “What are you getting yourself into?”

“You mean what is he getting us into,” Anders snarls. “I assume you expect us to help you? What’s in it for us, you bastard? The satisfaction of helping you? Fuck that.”

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>"We're supposed to be a team, aren't we? I wouldn't let any of you go against that thing alone, that's for sure. And anyway, I’m sure the crones would make you the same offer.”
>”I’m sure the crones would make you the same offer.”
>”I’ll pay you with my earnings from the raid. Cold, hard gold.”
>"At least assume I'm not going to stiff you, Anders. I told you about the vampire before this raid rather than just before entering the cave, right?"
>”I’m sure the crones would make you the same offer.”
Failing that
>”I’ll pay you with my earnings from the raid. Cold, hard gold.”
>"At least assume I'm not going to stiff you, Anders. I told you about the vampire before this raid rather than just before entering the cave, right?"

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The cold wind bites at the skin even beneath the insulated masks of your agents' gear as they slog through the deep snow. The sky above begins to glow in the dark of night as radiation dances through the planet's ionosphere, and the air fills with whipping torrential sheets of snow, whirling through the air as the wind howls through the jagged mountains surrounding the valley. The mining rig is almost beyond view through the snow, highlighted only by the glow of its floodlights diffusing through the blizzard.

Your space pods maintain a silent vigil in orbit as they attempt to pierce the thick layer of ionized gas swirling through the atmosphere. They can make out no details, but track the psionic activity of your agents as they move across the landscape as the ambient temperature of the ice bellow slowly begins to increase.

Welcome back to Hive Queen Quest!

>Archives http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Hive%20Queen%20Quest
>Twitter https://twitter.com/HiveQueenQuest
>Various pasta http://pastebin.com/u/QuestDrone
>FAQ ask.fm/QuestDrone
>Discussion page http://1d4chan.org/wiki/Quest_talk:Hive_Queen_Quest
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If you are so worried our hybrids will leave blood evidence we can always make then mutate to normal humans and implant spine palms on then. We are able to reverve the mutation we cause in the hibrids,si in case they bleed their blood will be no different then of a normal human.
Honestly that's probably a good idea. If we can retroactively turn our hybrids into replicants with parasites it becomes much harder to "prove" hive involvement.
We have flies and a small egg layer. We can either mutate the flies into spine palms or lay some. If i'm not mistaken the reverse mutation takes a full day to be complete. And about gear we can always buy some with local weapon dealers or even start parasiting some so we can create a secure spy network in path.
Sounds doable. Theseus could probably point us towards some weapons dealers on Path and we likely have enough credits banked at this point to buy some "good" (for humans) equipment. Since the terrorist leader gave us a few days to get ready before the strike we can probably handwave that these were our clones actions during that time.

The biggest danger I see is that if our clones are under observation by the terrorist cell they will notice some strange things when we transition from hybrid to replicant such as the gorging on food that is unusual for humans. But we have our own ways to avoid being spotted and the risk the terrorists see some unusual behavior is far better than the risk of hybrid blood/biomass being recovered from the raid.
>The biggest danger I see is that if our clones are under observation by the terrorist cell

With our flies checking the perimeter i doubt any human would be able to spy on our children. And if we are spied we can always adopt that person so we get a mole inside the terrorist cell.

But if everything fail we can always say that the augments our hybrids is the reason for their increased appetite

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This is a thread created for the discussion of Quest threads.
It also used to be a place to share advice and guidance for aspiring or current QM's.

Please do (not) shitpost, and please report any shit posters attempting to derail discussion or cause strife. This means you, as you can't be anything else since you are posting in this thread.

Useful links: http://pastebin.com/u5xPbk6w
This link contains numerous writing guides, general advice, and various quest tools and communities. It should also say to stay away from /qst/ but doesn't for some reason.

These are two directories containing the tweets of many current QM's. While a twitter is by no means mandatory, it is a useful tool for both you and your players. To get added to the second list, tweet @tgQuestList. Spamming tweets unrelated to your quest may result in its removal. Enjoy being cyberstalked!

IRC Channels:
[The Cabal] #QMC @ Rizon.net (slightly related to quests; enjoys worldbuilding, mechanics, and politics)
[Hugbox] #ques/tg/enerals @ Rizon.net (barely related to quests; enjoys Larro quests and anima)

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If you guys want to join in a part Campaign Comic, part Storyline RP, then look no longer! Join the World Struck RP and let your madness consume your creativity! >>1497059
I'd be interested in that.
Even if it's space magic?
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[Shilling]Dark Empire goes live in 30 minutes so if you want to run and Empire and be generally Imperial, come stop by![/shilling]
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Oh shit. Let me know when this shit goes down.

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The footsteps of a certain annoying adult slowly fade into the distance as she leaves your room, and leaves you locked inside. Yuuki, the chief of the fun police, has returned you to your room after your previous attempt to escape. She insists that you need to sleep for at least one night this week.
You turn toward the bed to maybe consider, just for a second, getting some sleep. Then, you see Charlotte laying in bed, and notice how exhausted she looks. One of her knights going missing has taken a harder toll on her than it ever could on you. Charlotte still sleeps as if she did not notice Yuuki rudely displacing you back into your room.

Your brow furrows. Sleep can't win this game just yet. You're going to prove Yuuki wrong.

You are Louise Lacerte! The beautiful; only slightly-tired hero of Gallete, and let no one tell you otherwise! You've been awake for what you think is the past week. Maybe it's been two weeks! Who knows? It's hard to tell anymore as time has become something- something- or another. That's not important, though! What is important is that Charlotte, your guardian and summoner, has been awake at least as long as you have searching for one of her missing knights.

Even as Charlotte sleeps; you can tell that it's not a pleasant slumber. She has been tossing and turning in the middle of the night, and her waking hours are consumed with worry of the missing person known as 'Odelle'. This makes the third or so day that they've been looking for her, and you're not sure they're any closer to finding her than they were a few days ago.

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>Aw come oooonnn.
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"I know." You state, confidently. "I'm going out anyway."
"Haven't you done enough searching for one day?" Kayda complains, "This would make the third night you've stayed out, maybe you need some sleep."

There she goes again, telling you that you need something, something- you don't know. It's annoying!

"Listen, I can't stand to see Charlotte like this. Someone has to put her foot down and find Odelle, and the adults certainly aren't helping! They're downstairs talking about boring stuff right now. So are you in or not?"

You hear a very heavy sigh behind the door.
"..Let me ask Greta."
"Come oooon! If you keep your voice down, she might not even notice you leave!"

"That's how you treat your summoner, Louise. I always let Greta know everything that I'm doing-"
"Kayda?" You hear a soft-spoken voice from inside the room, "Are you going out again?"

You hear Kayda grumble, and a brief exchange whispered in hushed tones.

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>Oh, this kid showed me a really nice backdoor entrance to the castle. Let's use that!
>Also, we're going to search the places Felice looked today.
Hey can I be part of it.
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Certainly! Here are two recap threads to sink your teeth into that should catch you up to the current threads.


Or, if you want, you can just start posting and read the pastebin. My threads don't tend to have many callbacks or things that require you to know a lot about the background. If it does, I try to explain it. The short explanation is that this quest is about catgirls, doggirls, and their fluffy tails.

I hope you 'll be joining us!

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Welcome to Tribes Evo, a game where you take control of a tribe and evolve it culturally, technologically, and historically through time. Currently, our tribes have braved Winter and enter Spring, but face danger in the form of giant bees.

Previous Threads (please read if new): http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=tribevo
Discord: https://discord.gg/r36b7By
Art: http://imgur.com/a/8CUVM

Poll of the Thread: http://www.strawpoll.me/13022810

New Players Guide:
>Every turn is a new day
>Every turn each tribe can do one action and research
>Research - Laws, Technologies, Arts, Customs
>Action - Trading, Hunting, Scouting, Organizing
>At least one player per tribe, no upper limit on tribe members
> Only ONE action and ONE research PER TRIBE, must be agreed by majority

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Trade is meant for chickens. Sorry.
on 2nd thought, maybe the uni should be virtues of curiosity & passion
Rolled 16, 22, 81 = 119 (3d100)

Research: Flaming catapult projectiles / pitch

Action: Produce decent quantities of said burning projectiles

Combat: 100 Chickens attack the Hive in the jungle, led by our Elite Coop commandos (15) who operate the catapults to fling flaming projectiles at the Hive until it is destroyed. An additional 20 chicken medics will be on standby. The rest of the Chickens wielding axes and shields and wooden armor stand ready to protect the catapults, hacking at any swarming bees. So:
Medics (20)
Soldiers (100)
Looks like your commandos and medics have it rough.
Rolled 62, 82, 69 = 213 (3d100)


This here is a Quest for all Star vs The Forces of Evil faggots



>You are Anon
>14 year old boy...who has had a pretty crazy day
>Last night you got with your boys from the Football team for a pre-game blowout
>You hung out with cheerleaders
>Got in a fight with the rival team
>Then you contemplated the Ethics of enslaving someone's soul via devil magic
>Typical Thursday?
>Your heart sure hopes not
>You bought a magic door that's essentially your own apartment now

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...And you DEFINITELY don't want to update your headbook profile to " in a relationship with Jackie Lynn Thomas" shortly after sending it to him...
When love is involved the strongest of wills can melt like butter to it.
I wanted Jackie to win (althoght all the options are great), but now I'm really feeling bad for Marco.
Tbf, if he continued with his 2000 step plan as he originally was he probably would have never gotten with her before someone else got with her
Yeah, but Star would have helped him to achieve that goal (not that Anon could ever know that, but still)

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Your new feathered “friend” has brought word of a great prophecy. A group of second-rate daemons will band together and become a mighty force for Chaos. Their leader? Perhaps one of the most second-rate Khornates there is: You. Or, rather, was. You like to think your rebirth has changed you for the better. Though until you face Her, you won’t be sure exactly how far you’ve come. It’s something that often consumes your thoughts.

In any event, things on the Soul Inferno are progressing slowly. Feva is hard at work training her new arm and with her new weapon. Usha’s instructing her between exercises to better control the transformation of her daemon arm. As for Niazach, she and several of Rikiar’s scouts have travelled into the corridors of the Firestorm-class frigate to get a lay of the land, so to speak. What they find is eerily similar to a ship you once helped capture in the past.

The Inferno carries about five thousand well-trained voidsmen. Aside from that, there’s not much in the way of resistance. Even then, said voidsmen tend to only have las weaponry. You suppose that’s probably due to the fact that their superiors don’t want misfires and missed shots punching holes in the bulkheads. The remaining 20,000 crew (or thereabouts) are split pretty evenly between support, domestic, and peacekeeping roles.

Taking the Inferno would be relatively easy, or so you think. But do you really want to give Usha’s precious prophecy even more ammo?

Welcome to Khornette Quest Redux
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ok I'll answer 4. she will seduce several of the high ranking crew members on the ship, then have them all head to the same room. When they have arrived and begin getting angry at each other a trap she rigged with unleash the chocolate pudding upon them, they will be unable to get proper footing and begin to slip. once this is done a duck will fly in at them charged with chaos energy and explode sending them all flying out of the room and into the corridor next to them with a loud bang. this will attract as much attention as possible and cause maximum embarrassment, then the wheel will come in hitting the men and pulling them further down the hall slicking it with the pudding before several placed lasguns get hit and begin discharging at random creating massive panic and drawing even more attention.

Tzeentch level planning here
1. Rikiar, voice of reason in this madness. Nizach for the same reason.
2. Feva, because players are fawning all over and hyping her to be this super awesome next Kharn with ease. She hasn't earned it and they are handing shit to her. Reeks of MAtt ward levels sue imo.
3. Spreading around character time. We're really focusing on 2-3 and ignoring the others utterly. You had the same issue in the previous quest.
4. I dunno but I bet it will be involved, depraved and brilliant.
1. so far? probably feva, but its pretty close.
2. again fairly close. no one character stands out as particularly deficient.
3. some other anon said to spread the love around, I agree. Also while we of course have a permanent enemy in Her, we dont have mich on the way of more immediate nemesis. just something to think about.
4. okay... here goes.

First off for those who dont know ducks have evolved really wierd reproduction organs. male ducks have essentially 7+ foot long corkscrew barbed prehensile explosion dicks. its fucking horrifying. do not google it. the chocolate pudding is a fetish disguised as an innocent lure. She says "hey ladies, free chocolate pudding" one thing leads to another. from snack party, to food fight, to naked wrestling, at this point the video goes ship wide, then the bondage starts when someone ties someone else to a wheel, and the evening ends with horrible duck bestiality and noone looks at the first mate the same ever again. keikaku dori.
>1. Who's your favorite character so far, and why?
They haven't been officially revealed to the questers yet.
>2. Who's your least favorite character so far? How would you change them?
Rikar because you're not doing anything with him! He needs to be more active in the story, cause events to happen.
>3. What could I be doing better?
Sticking to schedule
>4. What is Nia going to do with all that chocolate pudding and a duck?
A duck walks up to a lemonade stand and he says to the man, running the stand:
Hey. (bom bom bom)
Got any grapes?
1. F E V A !
2. Rikiar needs a little more development. I enjoy his character, though.
3. I don't know. Everything looks fine to me. Maybe more trick options, like the option to summon our scythes in the duel. Something to keep anons on their feet.
4. She better not be using that pudding as lube.

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Just as you return to the bridge, after taking the captain to the sickbay for food poisoning, the alarms explode. "Doctor," you hear from one of the side consoles in an Indian accent, "Captain Graves named you as her second-in-command. It's up to you." Looking down from the burning ship on the viewscreen, it's quick to get up to date. A civilian Federation cruiser is sending out distress signals from just inside the Klingon neutral zone which you are skirting. Crossing it is against the agreements that are the only thing formally keeping the Federation and the Klingon Empire from full-out war. On the other hand, such a civilian cruiser can hold tens of thousands of people. Leaving them all to sink out here in space would make the legendary Titanic's demise centuries ago look like just another old, tired fisher disappearing at sea one night. "Doctor," is repeated in Indian accent. "Awaiting your orders."

>What the fuck do you do, doctor?
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"You presented me with a nonsensical test, I have given a nonsensical, all of Starfleet knows the Kobayashi Maru test is a personality quiz, not something you can win at. And any game with no win condition has no meaning." The entire crew murmurs while the admiral and his young Vulcan assistant look flabbergasted. "But for this personality test to work, you have to give it your best shot," Spock finally speak. "If you make a joke of it, there is no way to actually measure your personality. You have wasted Federation resources. I must respectfully insist that the admiral orders a court martial and that doctor Shakespeare is arrested." You suddenly notice a small figure emerging from the shadow behind the admiral and the Vulcan. It's a small woman, no taller than to the assistant's elbows, with white hair to the back of her thighs and blue eyes. It's Vivian Detroit, the psychologist assigned to your training. "You speak outside your area of expertise, assistant Spock," she says, a playful smile that surprisingly does no harm to her otherwise always dignified shyness. "This reaction has told me plenty about Doctor Shakespeare. She is highly down to earth while also apt at outside-the-box solutions. Meanwhile she is something of a passionate romantic, evidenced by how strongly she stands by her unusual decision. To be frank, for a doctor this is one of the best results of the Kobayashi Maru I have ever seen. It indicates pragmatism, skill at invention and empathy. Not only does Doctor Shakespeare pass, she passes with flying colors." For a moment the crew looks, if anything, even more confused than while you were telling them to fly into the sun. Suddenly the entire room erupts into applause. Spock, blushing, looks back and forth before finally looking up at you again with ice in his eyes. "That means, I believe, that Captain Grave's crew is ready to depart for Klingon border patrolling next thursday as scheduled." You swallow. A part of you was trying to fail, or if not -- at least to be assigned to another ship as sometimes happens at the end of training. Captain Elisabeth Graves's hatred for the klingon, that has become apparent the more you have gotten to know her, seems completely unsuited for a Starfleet captain. Are you really just going to go along with this almost suicidally fanatical Klingon racist? Maybe you should request to be moved to another ship, or discuss it with command before it's too late?

We shouldn't discuss it with the crew but when we get our assignment we should talk to them off line about it, I am willing to bet that Starfleet on some level is aware of this particular powderkeg and would expect the concern. No sense in airing out dirty laundry in front of the troops though

You decide to rather bring up Captain Grave's strange behavior in private after getting the assignment. With the test complete, you agree to have a celebration with some of the colleagues you have become the closest too at the academy. The psychologist Vivian Detroit decides to join you as well. Walking through the streets of Neo-Stockholm hover cars pass the glass railings along the streets and the smell of Asian spices intermingles with the sweet, synthetic smell of the positron engines that run the atmosphere generators. The light from the glasshouse that covers the traditionally Swedish city looks especially pale today, like seen through a fog, reflected against the shiny exteriors of the storefronts you pass together. Federation police, carrying a homeless man on each their side, pass you and throw him into the back of a hover van as he begs for mercy. The door is quickly thrown shut behind him. Everyone who knows what's best for them pretends like they didn't see anything. Just like homosexuals eventually "didn't exist" in 21th century Russia and North Korea, there is no such thing as poor people in the Federation. There is no money here after all, not if you're lucky enough to live in the cities anyway.

In the dark corner of a bar you seat yourself with your friends. There is Captain Graves, a beautiful tall redhead with black bags under her eyes looking as morose as ever; Spider, a 8 feet tall alien covered in black metal plates who can only communicate through moods he creates with pheromones and writing; the young psychologist Vivian Detroit looking as wise as ever with her mysterious white hair; the lighthearted, eye-patched Indian officer Ramachandran who you once heard a rumour bought his wife who is far too beautiful for him from the Indian slums, which of course don't exist; and finally the cheerful, slightly naive blonde Vulcan Ellie who suffers from something parallel til Asperger's syndrome for humans which makes her blonde and very emotional despite being a Vulcan. The robot bartender wheels up to your table. You're bit hungry and they have food here. You've also heard you can get forbidden Romulan ale here if you know how to ask for it, but that's risky.

>What do you order?
>insert drug into own system for 'testing'
I aint doing this sober

Get ourselves some classic fish and chips and a pint of one of their seasonals, hand brewed preferably, everyone insists that the replicator makes no discernible difference but damned if we can't taste one

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In this quest, Demons walk the earth and ravage the land as they see fit. Well, not really since many of the races banded together to seal them away into the abbyss. That being said, many cults and evil doers still roam the land in want of returning their dark masters to the material plane. The players assume the role of a adventurer in these dark times. Seeking fame and fortune. Or just the next job for lunch money.
>Last volume:
>For newcomers
Simply type your character's name, gender, and race and yee shall spawn into the Dark world. Which is the name of the region you shall be inhabiting for the most of your adventures. Do remember to check your inventory.
>What's new:
Spells have been changed
Detect Evil has been changed
"It's an old cavern dug into the mountain not far from the village of Fillaircontant. My Ancestors used slave labor to carve it for their Cyclops fortune tellers."
Mr. Gurgrich gives you a strange look.
"Noted. Anyways, I did say she was an Oracle so, as much as I'd like to doubt it, it's quite possible she can shoot lightning bolts out of her eye."
"Yes, well, if you require anything in particular, I'd be quite happy to provide it." Fraken says rubbing his hands together.
See >>1488472
Flynn's meditative stance is interupted by the faint sound of... a fiddle... it's coming from the woods next to him, echoing through the trees.
The Hunters just look at him strangely, one of them hands him a drink.
"Here, have this."
"A circular shield and a bow, also some rope would be great." Monty paced about the room contemplating as to how he will fell the beast with little strain on his person.
After a moment of thought, Zaravan slowly speaks, as if fully expecting denial.

"I would not be adverse to acquiring a better set of armor. It would be useful."

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You shake your head. "Well I am still not that big on pokemon, but it's different when the pokemon are mine."

You lift Mimikyu up, the puppet pokemon waving at Tallie as you show off your pokemon. "Look at them, they are this ghost stuffed in a pillowcase that looks like Pikachu, isn't he cute? He's got four eyes isn't that adorable?"

Tallie stares at the pokemon as Mimikyu stares back, eventually sighing. "Fair enough I suppose."

Mimikyu turns back to you, chest puffed out like they accomplished something.

"Purr?" You look down as you hear a mew, Espurr tugging on your table pointing at your ice cream pokepuffs.

"Purr! Purr." The pokemon jumps trying to reach the desert, it seems hungry.

>Sure Espurr.
>No kitty that's a bad kitty
>...Where is Sebastian if Espurr's here?
39 replies and 3 images omitted. Click here to view.
> Koshmar
> Weiss
> Bedbug
> Tok
> Mimikyu
> Reginald

pretty good choices for montains actually
If we're readying up beforehand, I'm gonna vote Reginald and Tok.
I'll second this. Let's get Regi some more of that screentime.
>Well now that i have you two's attention its time to calm down and tell me what happened... well tell Mimikyu I don't speak pokemon
Get Regi and the Scotsman ready.
The posh bird of prey and the surly snack.
Sounds perfect to me.

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Rolled 78 (1d100)

rolling for snakes
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cool this is my character

In the grim darkness of the 41st millennium there is only war. Imperium of Man, once strong and proud, now is slowly crumbling, whole regions of space are lost to the horrors that lurk in the darkness of the void. Sector Deus is just one of the thousands of Imperial provinces that form the front line in the war to defend Humanity itself. Corruption from within and aggression from without threaten it. But the Emperor sends us hope. High Lords of Terra commissioned a Chapter of Adeptus Astartes, finest warriors Humanity has ever seen, to defend this region of space. They are the last line of defence that hold Age of Ruin at bay. They are the Ghosts of Retribution and this is their tale.
91 replies and 19 images omitted. Click here to view.
Masculinity does not follow logic, Lu.
Fuck it use the fate point. We'll still have 2 left.
+1 for nipple-detwisting
Rolled 60, 8, 48, 26, 15, 15, 20, 75, 54, 41, 55, 99, 52, 90, 77, 97, 54, 55, 78, 44, 35, 43, 59, 52, 54 = 1306 (25d100)


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