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That morning, under a bright and cold sun, you wake with a good feeling in your gut. A feeling that today might be the day that you leave this damn mountain, hopefully never to return. With each hour that passes, the feeling sinks its claws deeper and deeper into you. Restless, you pace the manor grounds between time spent gazing wistfully through the grimy windows at the path beyond the walls.

Then, finally, you see movement – the first of many wagons to rumble slowly into view. You stare at them for a long moment, as if you can't quite believe that they're really here. To actually see the object of your imagination after so long feels unreal, like you might still be dreaming. Then, shaking off your wonder, you hurry to gather your companions and open the outer gates.

It's time to leave.

-

“So...” Bear begins, looking around in confusion, “Where's the old boy?”

“Munroe is... unavailable,” you answer vaguely, watching as the few remaining servants mechanically unload crates and barrels from the wagons. It's good that they're here - if the King really sends his men to the manor as you hope, they'll need supplies.

“Unavailable,” the heavyset man repeats, squinting up at the manor windows as if expecting to see the old servant peering out. He thinks for what seems like a very long time, then shrugs. “Whatever,” he says, “So long as we're getting paid for this delivery, it really doesn't matter to me. You guys want a lift down the mountain?”

“Absolutely,” you confirm, “I thought you'd never ask.”

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>>6105285
Thanks for running!

Sorry I couldn't vote, my job has gotten super anal about phones.
>>
>>6105285
Should we recommend they bring Teufel out to the light of the full moon before we leave?
>>
>>6105419
Better safe than sorry, but they won't do it unless the doctor herself sees evidence of the supernatural.
>>
>>6105297
>and Gratia
I do wonder what she's been up to. Teufel talking about a woman suggests she may have been here already, but we'll have to dig a little more I think.
>>
>>6105419
Recommend?

We should demand it honestly. He is still our vassal after all

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The year is 2021, and Civil War rages across America. Across major cities, communists rise under the banner of the Proletariat Revolution. In the Northwest, a fascist warlord state has emerged to provide order and security. The East Coast is consumed by fighting between military remnants, warlords, and U.N. Peacekeepers. Texas has formed its own republic, and the West Coast has turned into a Chinese puppet managed by corporate fiefdoms. The world's going up in flames, and nobody knows what tomorrow will bring...

You are the Messenger (former name: Walter White) and you lead the Sun Belt Crusaders. Your group is best described as a radical Catholic cult claiming the papal throne backed by meth, violence, and cunning. Having fled your native Southern California, you have established a presence in the Arizonan village of Mobile southwest of Phoenix.

Your faction has had some success since settling down. You've secured a patron in the nearby town of Maricopa, which provides significant support in exchange for your services. You also enjoy a close relation to Maricopa's autonomous Reservation after helping a local figure execute a coup and establish a new government. Militarily, your faction has won a number of small skirmishes, has taken over (at Maricopa's behest) a mountain base previously used for raids in addition to minor mercenary work in Phoenix, trading blood for wealth.

The Crusaders are currently in a period of growth. Threats such as the prison-warden turned raider seem to have set their sights elsewhere, and the cult is building up its numbers and infrastructure. It's a precarious situation, as each boon has its respective cost. The funds fueling the infrastructure expansion came from a pyrrhic victory that serves as a reminder of your faction's insignificance to Phoenix. The recruitment of vagrant junkies combined with the existing influx of Natives to the Faith is stretching housing and other resources thin, though an upcoming raid and diplomatic effort out west has the potential to change everything...

Beyond your small territory of Mobile lie the many dangers of the Badlands. These range from yet more convicts turned raiders, the Cartel, hostile government agents (perhaps even in your own faction), and a myriad other groups you're slowly discovering. Looming over all is the former capitol of Phoenix, consumed with a massive war raging between the revolutionary Phoenix Occupied Zone and a loose coalition opposing it. If either faction takes control of the city, it will become the regional hegemon and likely seize the Badlands. All the while an outside faction such as Chinese-controlled California or Mexican warlords could start making moves in the area any time.

Your short-term goal is to continue surviving and expanding. Your longer term goal is to somehow secure Phoenix and the Badlands. Your ultimate goal is to bring the Glory of Christ to the entire country no matter the cost in blood, meth, or tears...
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>>
Rolled 13 (1d20)

>>6106190
Rollan

>>6106232
Nice.
>>
>>6106196
>pocket meth
"You got one part of that wrong. This is not meth."

>>6106232
It seems like you people are heeding the advice to just roll better! Or at the very least to get the terrible rolls out of the way on fights that are more or less already won (not that you want to roll another 1 while already wounded) and save the good ones for the head-on assaults against strong points (btw note that it actually mattered that it was the second roll; this wasn't a Bo4).

Normally I'd do this 'behind the screen' but I'll give you guys 'the honors'
>Roll 1d3
Don't worry about rolling a 1 btw, this isn't that kind of roll.
>>
Rolled 2 (1d3)

>>6106415
Religion, bitch!
>>
>>6106182
>"No," the Sidewinder responds. "We're just p-"
>That's all you need to hear. "Great, look get your asses over to Sacaton, shit's gonna pop off!" You can feel the meth starting to really circulate through your system.
>"Just to confirm, you want us to leave our positions in the desert and head ov-"
Mmm… probably would’ve preferred more of a sitrep before the decision, since my gut feeling was that they were about to do something interesting. Then again, I don’t know if the original intention for the Sidewiders in this mission was for them to do something on their own initiative or us having to prod them into action, from a quest perspective.

>>6106190
Driving in a circle like it was the reverse mirror-world version of Little Bighorn? Also do a stunt move of Jesse walking out of spinning/drifting truck with a gun out all badass movie like.

And you can’t forget the Crusader Classic- the smoke n’ bayonet charge! Deus Vult!

>>6106232
DEUS VULT!

>>6106415

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>>6106232
Gott mitt uns!

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It’s Friday, June 30th, before dawn. The night continues shrouding the sky, and you are exhausted. You’re not trying to be funny, this isn’t your mind being depleted and forcing you to be dumb, you’re dead tired. Every single muscle in your body has called it quits, there’s an internal holiday that spans from top to bottom, and only your brain has shown up to save you from having a stroke. The last few days have been far too taxing on your body, nights of fun have their price, but hey, your Athletics have gone up!

Congratulations, you’ve reached level 5 Athletics after a long night of fun and exercise!

This is the only good news you’ll receive from your body. Enjoy it somehow. Anyway, you must be wondering why you are awake if you’re so tired. Shouldn’t you be sleeping soundly after being worked to the bone? How come your eyelids have decided to do one last push like Matilda demands it? Well, the reason is a melody. A song. Soothing music that makes the exhaustion go away. This *isn’t* flame shenanigans or anything of the like, but it is magical to you. It isn’t the most beautiful singing in the world like Debbie’s, but it energizes the soul. Like literally, Philonune feels empowered.

This lullaby isn’t a recording, the maiden’s voice is outside the building, meaning someone you know is likely to be singing. The Tomatoes, both original and honorary, are cuddling next to you, Wilma being the bigger spoon. This leaves you with two possibilities, either Fiora or the Innkeeper, because there’s no way Odetta can emit any sound that isn’t annoying. Curiosity reigns your mind, and won’t be satiated easily.

All that aside, with this mysterious strength, you’re capable of picking up your phone and seeing the time. It’s almost 5:30 AM. You noticed a message coming from Vera. It’s about the prison break. The preparations are ready for the most part, and you must contact her to get the details. Good! You were planning on focusing on saving Crossbill as soon as possible instead of going to school, even though you should probably go.



Tired or not, you feel like you can do something now.

What do you do?

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>>6092506


You explain all the events that led to the Buffalo, and your concerns about his education! He’s a sentient being who values knowledge and friendship! Animals have rights!

"D-Did you just say that you helped a random bride escape her marriage with millions of dollars by dressing up as the groom, and a 40-something-year-old dressed up as the bride to go along with the ceremony to give her time to escape, and subdue the ire of the groom's billionaire alien family who couldn't bear the humiliation of having said ceremony canceled; then, having succeeded, you and your conspirators went on a fake honeymoon in the mountains, and while they were looking at the stars, some kind of meteor switched everyone's bodies, and one of the bodies was switched with that of a buffalo, and when everyone returned to normal, said buffalo became sentient?! And because you were too tired to move, you decided to ride the buffalo to school to not be late?!" Naturally, Nina is in shock.

“Yeah.” You don’t know why she said everything back to you.

“T-This is pure madness…!” Naturally, Nina continues to be in shock. She’s shoving dessert into her mouth to recover some sanity. You love her funny quirks as long as she doesn’t choke.

What do you do?

>“Will you help the buffalo, Nina? I can ask him to let you ride him!” Bribe the Nina!
>“What about you? Anything interesting happen yesterday?” Be casual.

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>>6092509
>>“Will you help the buffalo, Nina? I can ask him to let you ride him!” Bribe the Nina!
>>
>>6092509
>“Will you help the buffalo, Nina? I can ask him to let you ride him!” Bribe the Nina!
>"We could borrow the Drama Club's prince and princess costumes and wear that while we ride around on him, if that'll help somehow."
>>
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“It’s what happened.” You dryly retort.

“…I’m questioning why this can happen.” Nina can’t be on good terms with the reality she lives in.

“That’s fine. Will you help with the buffalo, Nina?” You think you’ve explained enough. “I can ask him to let you ride him!” You slowly wiggle your eyebrows, you’ll bribe her!

“Do you really think I’m qualified to teach a buffalo…?” Nina’s incredulous look that seems forever etched in her face starts breaking down with her concern for the animal.

“I don’t know a better teacher than you.” You tell no lies. If you’re fair, she doesn’t have much competition.

“T-Thank you, but it doesn’t answer my question.” Nina loves compliments no matter what.

“Nina, I hardly doubt there are enough sentient buffaloes for there to be experts out in the world.” You answer this silly question.

“I-I’m sorry, my disbelief makes me ask irrational questions…” Nina facepalms. “And I’ll get to ride it?”

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>>6092620
Thanks for running!

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ITQ you will buy and sell goods, find a place to live, basic Jobs, and things to do to live through a zombie apocalypse. Zombies are slow. Plenty of things can maim or kill you. Zombie bites can be treated, but there are side effects, or you may screw it up and die. So let's avoid that, ok?
You stand in line among several other people, anonymous faces, you didn't count them. You've not seen them before. Some in shoes, some barefoot, one with a blood stained spear, and all of you hot and dirty from the July heat. You're on the outskirts Northwest of Houston in the shell of what was an old big box store, in the Greens Point area (Guns Point as the locals say). The proprietor has a fan blowing across the line of you, and he has been good enough to put up a pop-up tent outside the entrance to shield everyone from the sunlight, but it must be 99 degrees with all of you crowded together and waiting. On either side of the Line, are cages full of dead eyed ghouls, locked in for now, but watching you.
The Merchant calls out Next and you step up with your goods. You walk up to a bullet proof Plexiglass window with a pass through container, and big sign over the glass stating:
>Jews created the outbreak on borrowed money, No Credit
You are yourself, just yourself. Your actions are your own choice, but the outcome is determined by post ID roll.
Roll for your saleable goods layout by final digit.
Subsequent rerolls to determine simple value, 2nd to last digit = quantity, final digit of simple pass fail 1-5 poor, 6-0 good
1-backpack of junk, can be sorted for valuables
2-live wild animal, must be examined to determine value
3-Clothing, must be checked for damage
4-Food, may be packaged or raw
5-Contraban: cigarettes, alcohol, pornography, drugs
6-Weapons: may be functional, broken parts
7-Ammunition: may be boxed or loose, good or bad
8-Medicine: may be prescription or over the counter

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>>6105044
>>6104976
>[continued]
The two men, apart from their names, and generalities don't even attempt to explain what they're up to.

Outside you hear the helicopter again. The men in the back are murmering about their containers, you hear them rattling around empty in the back.
>you lootin?
>yeah, sumbitch burned the van.
>we burned their car
>flammable shit, those EV's don't go out for days.
>where did you and Ivan the Terrible come from?

What do you know of these men? Can you trust them?
You have 2 choices
>Tell these men the truth

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>>6105044
>Tell these men the truth
"Fellers, I oughta let the proverbial baby alligator out of the proverbial rucksack."
>Take Northborough Drive back to the compound
>Get on the radio, advertise undertaking services - "Ladies and gents, W. A. Termelon, the esteemed undertaker, has now gone mobile for a limited time! Got a body you need buried? Maybe two or more bodies? Stack 'em up on the corner of Greens and Northborough in the next fifteen minutes, and the funeral is free! Thaaat's right, free! Some exclusions may apply, no purchase necessary."
>Keep Andy talking
>>
>>6105119
Wyatt hops on the radio with an addendum: "Just throw yer unwanted corpses in that thar FedEx drop box!"
Also, maybe try to see if there's any funny business with other businesses on the way in between, like Just Juice, Victor's Painting Service or Modern Food Store
>>
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>>6105282
>>6105119
>>6105282
>>6105044
You opt for the truth. At least you'll be able to keep your story consistent.
>we's coming from a feller, what said he'd pay us to check out that ther fire. He's a busy man, eh er, business that were, a business man.
This last description, draws silence from the two. You can't see their faces and watch the road. But you can hear that the rattling of cartidges, and the winding stops briefly, when you bring up commerce.

The Slav, has lost his bracing in the open doorway, (0) and not buckled up. But otherwise, nothing has happened to him.

You turn down Northborough and drive without obstruction for a block (5). The streets are mostly clear.

After announcing your presence and destination, the radio is briefly silent.

A man's voice comes on the radio

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>>6106475
"iAy caramba!"
>double back for the Slav
>ask the 2 gunners to help
>turn 360 and drive away

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The Nation of Ferrovia has fractured with the death of king Harold with three successor states and a bandit kingdom now fighting over the nation's future. King Elric, the king's brother backed by the landed nobility of the country, wages war in hopes of holding up the monarchy and by connection with the landed gentry. As he styles himself now Lord protector Baric attempts to halt the Monarchists and reformists from harming the status quo with the backing of the army his force is small but well trained and armed. The last of the main contenders is Queen Meredith the sole child of King Harold and devout reformist backed by merchants democrats and communists alike she must lead this dispraite force to victory.
You are Sir Edmund ”The Crow” Drayton, a recently Knighted Yeoman, the leader of the small monarchist sub faction of the reformists. The capital city of Ironhaven burns as your men wrench control of the tightly packed city from the junta's hands. The junta navy burns in the port as its reformist counterpart proudly sails into the port. The Junta forces have all fallen back to the center of the city where they are surrounded intent on not giving up the home of your Queen without a fight.

Past threads: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=BrinkQM
It's taken a few days and quite the number of casualties but you're finally ready for a proper assault against the palace district. The Navy has seen fit to shuttle several infantry divisions into the city from the port and have seen to resupplying your men. The men are worn down but eager to finally end the bloody fighting. Your tanks rumble idly in the streets as your infantry hide in buildings from the misty rain that blankets the city Its time to decide how you will take the palace.

>push directly at the palace in a spearhead
>push all angles at once
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>>6105740
+1 although if this fails just take the island.
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>>6105740
Ill lets you guys give this a try

1d100 best of three please
>>
Rolled 94 (1d100)

>>6106180
>>
Rolled 96 (1d100)

>>6106180
>>
Rolled 63 (1d100)

>>6106180

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Once, the land of Pavilion was nothing more than a barren land, of empty waste and rock. Then the spark of life flared up. Roots rendered rock into soil. The hot lands cooled and rain fell. Great rivers rolled from the mountains, filling the great lake at the center of the land. Thick swamps, great forests, and expansive grasslands filled the land. Soon after the people of Pavilion rose up, each stranger than the last, guided by gods and spirits, wielders of magic and metal. Tribes became nations, nations became empires, and empires became tribes once again. The current age opens on a collection of tribes and nations poised at the beginning of a new era, where they may rise into great empires...or fall into oblivion. Shepherd your people, make love or war, and create a nation that stands the test of time!

This is a freeform NRP. The rules are minimal and mostly QM-determined. The emphasis is on roleplay and characterization. QMs reserve the right to change judgements, make final decisions, and forbid further argumentation. If you have questions, feel free to ask them here or in our discord using the invite code: F2Patcf

Remember, losing is fun and winning is gay!

Submissions are open to all, with a maximum player count of 17. To submit a nation, please use the following template:

>Civilization/Race Name:
>Capital Name:
>Brief Summary of Nation:
>Optional Fluff:

Please also attach an image of your preferred starting location


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By the great grace of our Lord Aagen,
who has granted us this tyrn of the sun, I, King Uhgul of the Vencs do hereby order;
>The protection of Rudam is paramount, the southern wall must be completed posthaste
>Upon the river gate of this great wall over the River Ave, a fortress of gleaming Whitness stone is to be erected and manned the tyrn through
>>
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>>6100830
A messenger from the Court of Rudam rides out to the wall with both the orders of construction, and a missive for the creatures of the south.
From the pen of the most loyal servant Matlin, of his majesty King Uhgul I of the Vencs of the House of Rudam, blessed by the great Lord Aagen, born of good blood and just beyond measure, to whichever horror reigns the foul crawling things;
Halt your foolish efforts in the north. The mercy of his majesty is finite. This episode of the tyrn past shall be forgotten should it be the only skirmish you order without wits. Strike again and we shall reign fire upon your whole sordid race.
The King seals it
>>
>Action 1 - The Crimson Tide Temple
The Ostriches are a heady meat, thick and heavy with the sweet, sweet blood. The open plains support them in great bands, roaming the land unaware of the growing number of hungry eyes that look to them. Fat with meat and fish and pig, the Krovians minds are elevated above their base desires. It is a golden age, and from it, a religious fervor sweeps the nation, a self-idolizing worship of the essence of Krovian ego.
Blood.
A grand temple is made, north-east of the capital, a great pyramid with a host of sacrificial alters at every rise. Each is designed with rough stone channels, the precious ichor of each death brought to a central channel before it pours into the river, paying homage to the endless sea... but not before flowing through Zhelezo itself.

>Action 2 - Blood Magic
Drabbed in stained and torn robes, Krovian priests begin to tap into the first of their magical talents. Sacrificial blood seems to bear a strength all it's own, bolstering the Krovian's who witness it's spilling, driving them into a fervor and filling them with unnatural strength, for a time.

Pre-emptive early counter-attack raid (too hasty by far)
Chief Drevino knows that it would be far wiser to wait until a secure advantage is had before sortieing forth to face unknown foes, but that's guppy-talk from the minds of carrot eaters. Far too early, the Krovian bands drive southwards, looking to join any fray they find involving Krawl or Molluscs. They had witnessed their battles last tyrn, and are eager to join the fun, tactics be damned.
>>
>>6105363
Action 1: Convert Allocated Ant Queens To Shadow Queens, Then Teach Them How To Dig And Seed
>Your requests are heard, brother Saffer. As efforts to herd and tame the Medqa[1] have met with sufficient success, you will be allocated the allotment of artisans and savants you have requested in its full capacity.
>The council further encourages that your liberal use of the Kata ring seals cease, as procedure demands they be read and deliberated upon in earnest as soon as any document bearing them arrives, slowing down otherwise more important proceedings when such seals are utilized for repetitive previously answered requests. Continuing to do so might lead to confiscation of your ring, and a stripping of your rank back to Novitiate.
>Not to put too fine a point on it, but you are on thin Solaire-touched ice.
1. You will notice the beast this missive arrived on. They are to be integrated alongside our workforce shortly. Should this endeavor of yours fail to bear fruit, the Habitun will not be short of alternatives.
- Missive from Habitun council to Brother Saffer


Action 2: Infuse all of the Medqa (giant stag beetles) with Svartalfar shadows
>Childer of Alfar, a schism foreseen
>Hvit shall you be no more, but Svart and Halv
>Lend me thy ears, whilst they sharp and keen
>Shed fugacious repose in the now
>For abiding Tenebrial primacy

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>>6106551
>It is well and truly known by every soul that ever dabbled with the arts that to halt a ritual mid-cast is to invite chaotic disaster upon oneself, as evidenced by the Night Of Dancing Shadows[1]. But as it is the case with any study not dabbling in forbidden Lumancy, we are impelled to test for every such case.
>It is my firm belief that chaos is naught but a name given to that which we refuse to brave deciphering, lest we invite disaster upon ourselves. Had we held ourselves to such limitation so zealously since times immemorial, we would yet to have discovered how to produce and tame fire.
>It is that line of thinking that compelled the attempt to see what would happen should one cease the casting of the rite of Tenebrism just after the shadow was animate, but afore it embraced its owner. Without a suitable host, the shadow would begin acting out of turn with its owner, occasionally attempting communication through gestures and motions. When provided with a suitable host after -the darker the better- it would slowly suffuse into its shadow, and in time, become able to influence the body through its own shadow. A doll could be made to dance, a rock could be made to roll uphill, and a blasted Medqa could be made to cease its consumption of a tired scholar's scrolls.
>Effects on more intelligent hosts have yet to be studied as the council refuses to risk attracting undue attention until the issue with Rive Mudamir[2] was deciphered. Moste vexing, particularly as it slows attempts to understand the strange affection possessed Medqa and other beasts show to their suffusers, but such is the burden of intellect.
>Of interest is that further performance of the rite of Tenebrism on such shadow-possessed hosts would cause the suffused shadow to first separate, and then for the host's shadow to animate.
>Of further interest is that such suffusion seems to drain a shadow of its size in every consecutive possession, though not with length of every single suffusion. A subject whose shadow had possessed eleven hosts had its shadow reduced to the size of a child, while one who had possessed a single host for a longer amount of time had barely any change to show once separated. The former subject refused to participate in the experiment further for fear of losing its shadow completely causing it to similarly lose the ability to undergo the rite of Tenebrism and become an honored Shadow.
>By my next book, I will have hopefully obtained test subjects without the right to refuse such noble sacrifice in the name of knowledge.
1. "Farces And Triumphs In The Arts: Vol 1"
2. "Intermediate Fumancy"
- Stige Sukon
"Theory of Magimancy: Chapter 3"

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The sky rings with the crack of cannonfire. The earth shudders beneath marching feet. The stench of ink, blood - sugar and gold. Many peoples struggle for life in the shadow of pike and musket - you are one of them.

>Pick a race. Any civ-race you can think of.
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>>6089645
>>6089656

Your shamans know the land - the land holds the bones of your ancestors - you need no other wise-men to speak poison words to you, and no civilised land to sap your strength and let your hooves grow long and brittle. The boy is not lifted on a litter, as the monks might have had him, nor starved in the dark to grow feral and furious, as the northerners might. He will grow as boys grow, and become a man as men do, even while his wisdom is called on to settle disputes. The shamans and warriors who respect his claim to incarnation will act as his hands until his own have the strength of manhood.

News of the khitar, who has come to be known as Al-Hüraeg, "the eye of heaven", spreads quickly. Outriders herding sheep, isolated clansfolk foraging, men and women trading kin for marriage - the neighbouring clans come to hear of the incarnation. Most are doubtful, but some come looking. Exiles, poor huntsmen and widows come to behold him - the first decision of the shamans and warriors in council about Al-Hüraeg is what to do with the flow of pilgrims.

>Welcome them in. Through the eye of heaven pours light- your clan will grow stronger with more bodies.
>Deny them. The ancestor came to you. You are chosen - not them.
>>
>>6089702
>Welcome them in
>>
>>6089702
>Welcome them in. Through the eye of heaven pours light- your clan will grow stronger with more bodies.
>>
>>6089702
>>Welcome them in. Through the eye of heaven pours light- your clan will grow stronger with more bodies.
>>
>>6089702
>Welcome them in. Through the eye of heaven pours light- your clan will grow stronger with more bodies.

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This is a fanfiction continuation of Far from Terra by ASS from where it left off. Blame /qtg/ for awakening my nostalgia. Yes, it's been four years. I'm attempting it anyways.

You're Fern, a pipsqueak of a human from the acid oceans of Ghast with huge balls, joined by your gorgeous Amazonian squeeze Dijana, your Tyranid dog-gun Bubbles, and a pair of Servitors.

Archives of the original: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=far+from+terra

---

>20: Suprise
As you fly off in your miniature voidship, the Manta, trying to get to Ojal-Prime the casino-moon, the vessel tries to sink itself into the warp with its archeotech. But something happens, the ship midway through the thundering, fleshy gash in reality.

"Error- Recalculating" flashes holographically on the windows, as it continued to hurdle through the deep, cavernous portal of mixed dimensions by its own momentum. "Recalculating - Recalculating - Recalculating"

"New destination found. Emergency reroute."


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>>6086427
> Try to find some uninhabited island, floating heap of trash, anything - and park there for now.
>>
>>6086427
> Try to find some uninhabited island, floating heap of trash, anything - and park there for now.
>>
>>6086427
> Try to find some uninhabited island, floating heap of trash, anything - and park there for now
>>
>>6086427
> Get your servitors, Dijana and Bubbles ready for combat and land right here.

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A LISA-inspired Quest.

Rabid animals, men without sense, motherless dogs beyond salvation and god!
They are the libertine dwellers of the mount of cement; the inglorious survivors of the red desert. A dried plain, deader than the very cemetery, colored with impregnating red from the anal blood of the raped, and perpetually polluted by the lying cocks of the castrated rapists.

The absence of women was not perpetual, they came back; like rabid bitches they hide within scarcity, and howl by the imaginary rivers, beyond canine sight.
Usurpers of dignity will not care to be bitten by their venomous mouths. And not from fear, as much as out of pure disinterest. The lack of women across time, the heat; it was too much to bear for the willess men who simply barked for a stick to bite. And in their solitude and hunger, the loveless found love wherever it had hidden amongst their fellows.
Addicted and enamored by the aboriginal orifice, the joy and the pain managed to outlive the scarcity of cunt until it showed its face on earth again. And “Why are you here when we need you the least?”, they asked.

Survival, battle, victory; they are temporal and scarce joys within the desert of cement, and despite the taste of glory and power they concede with such flavourful disdain, they quite never quite get rid of the taste of salt and testicles from one’s gob.

The only name you know is the one your mother gave you, and you accept it like an ingrate, Antonio Zepeda, a low name of nobody, without grace and without merit of any kind. Embrace it with fear and shame, because that’s all you got, lest you’d be glad not to be known as “The moron”, “The dense” or “The raped”.

Dogs without God it’s a drawquest set in a desert scarce of cunt and abundant with men. The players will be the reflection of the dog’s mind and impulses. Choices will be decided through cumulative voting; beware that impulsivity might affect the amount of votes needed for something to happen. The arguments you explore through your voting will affect the outcome.
Individual players can ask custom questions about an enemy or situation, however, doing so will consume fractions of time available to act. Not every action will be as urgent, not every danger will wait for you to figure them out, and trying to uncover the truth behind someone’s parents divorce might not be as easy.

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>>6099835
>>Run.
>>
>>6099843
think my ip reseted from deleting cookies.. its a bit slightly over, ill have to make a new thread
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>>6103323
nevermind, we are so back!

Since we only got one vote i'll draw that choice.
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>>6099843

>>Run.
You escape successfully!

The soles of your shoes clash against the desertic soil. And one after another your steps howl and echo across the vast *nothing*.
.. . . .. .... . . .. .... . . .. .... . . .. .... . . .. .... . . .. .... . . .. .... . . .. .... . . .. .... . . .. .... . . .. .... . . .. .... . . .. .... . . .. .... . . .. .... . . .. .... . . .. .... . . .. .... . . .. ..

–"And then?"

Then,
there's silence.


You feel the cold sweat falling from your brow. Drops awaiting to boil through the heat of the biosphere. Feeling important enough to torment your eye balls as they fade - "A potent death" - They think.

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>>6104613
>I killed The Lard. Will i ever see the other two again?

Quest’s Summary: You play as Pangea, the daughter of The Emperor created to be an emotional support for the primarchs after Malcador convinced the Emperor that the primarchs, while powerful, are ultimately human. Pangea would act as a way to secure the primarch’s loyalty to The Emperor by having the primarchs relying Pangea as their emotional support… if Pangea remains loyal that is.

Thread 1: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2024/6052620/

Bucephelus.

Instead of voidsmen-at-arms, custodians guarded the giant halls. Ceramite shimmered in every corner. Sharp edges and sleek arches decorated the halls, the sign of the Aquila bore in every corner. Tiny clicks and clacks echoed, engines hummed as the techpriests maintained the machines in their strange rituals.

—This is your first time leaving Segmentum Solar, are you nervous?—

“A little.” Pangea said.

The Emperor of Mankind and Pangea sat across from each other at a long table. Pangea still remembered as a child she wanted nothing but Father’s attention. Yet, upon realizing what she was made for, and his attention once Horus had been found, not to mention Alpharius’s advice… A tiny bud of ugly jealousy and infectious doubt rose, hiding beneath a myriad of other emotions.*

—And how is the food?—

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>The options allude to Khorne, Tzeentch, Slaanesh, and Nurgle respectively.
Not good. The last thing Pangea needs to be right now is alone. Speaking of which...

>>6106581
>Write-in
>Thought about the Sisters of Silence. There's clearly much more to them than she already knows. Perhaps Iai is nearby.
It's only natural for the princess to learn more about her new bodyguard.
>>
>>6106581
>Sought the training grounds, she just wanted to hit something

>>6106623
How does having faith in Malcador relate to Nurgle?
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>>6106632
It would be no change from before, and she would be doing nothing in particular.
>>
>>6106635
You don't get corrupted by chaos just by doing something they might approve of or which might vaguely connect to a concept they embody. I don't think this is that big of a deal.
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>>6106581
>Went to her Uncle’s study, but this time when he would be absent

"Chose to trust uncle’s words. He never misled her before" is the most mature option, but we're not the perfect princess and it's been a while since we snooped around.

>>6106623
Good theory. But this may just be build-up to certain trials to overcome.

Also. QM didn't give an option to write-in this time. So I think you're going to have to make a choice, Anon. Otherwise, I do like that write-in.

>>6106632
Probably because Nurgle can attach himself to feelings for family and the familiar. Choosing to do nothing.

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(First quest. Expect fuckups. More concrete stats/character sheet/data as we go.)

You are an unremarkable mortal. You LURK on imageboards and CONSUME fictional media.

While you've read and watched through many series, the conceit of "JoJo's Bizarre Adventure" has always enthralled you, compensating exposure to ABSURDITY and even BLOODSHED with fantastic powers reflecting one's SOUL. While you are up to date on the original manga (from the beginning to the latest installment, the JOJOLANDS), the anime adaptation, and even spin-off material, there is one story arc cemented in your head as your very FAVORITE.
[roll 1d9 for your favorite part, will choose the mode]

You are only vaguely aware of your background as you regain consciousness. You are slumped against a stone wall. It's pretty dark, and there are unfamiliar sounds and lights in the distance. The night air is warm and a bit dusty. You can just about make out you're in some sort of alleyway.

You manage to get to your feet. You start to remember piddling little details like your NAME, AGE, ORIGIN, and...

...Wait.

Your eyes trail a long shadow on the ground up to the distance, where it's cast by a tall silhouette. Someone is approaching you. It's a man with a bird on his shoulder, but it doesn't take the foreknowledge of a BIZARRE loremaster to realize that it's no mere man and no mere bird.


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Who else is already theorycrafting what bullshit we can do with this stand's abilities?
I'm currently thinking about a scenario in which we troll Jotaro by keeping him out of range via making an infinite number of sidewalk slabs between us and him.
Also wondering if it could potentially work on things that aren't solid. I mean...it duplicated the entire hand, right? So did it duplicate the blood inside our hand, too? Or the gasses being transported through that blood? Kind of freaky potential. I wouldn't be surprised if a later Act has it pulling out Gojo's Infinity basically.
I'm also thinking about what would happen if we used it on our head. All those extra brains...extra eyes...extra noses...extra ears...all connected to the same body. Probably best to try that on someone else before us!
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>>6103008
I'll support this, I'm not a /mu/ head
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>>6103008 (+1 >>6103173) for Jenova/J-E-N-O-V-A from FFVII
>>6103051 for Wings that Don't Reach
If there are any more suggestions they'll be added until tomorrow (~12 hours from now). Liking the ones so far; just be wary of making the name a self-fulfilling prophecy...

>>6103053
We know so far that within a near range it can activate on both organic and inorganic objects. In real life, fractal patterns are common throughout nature, both macroscopic and microscopic, even down to the molecular level. Beyond that? Well, more bizarre things have happened in the JJBA continuities. Science is more of a loose inspiration here, for both the busted side and limitations of our powers.
>>
(Still writing the next post with a delay. Had work to do, planned out some possible plot lines for the longterm. Jenova wins the Stand name by vote, which will be a really nice fit with multiple Acts and multiple forms/versions of the namesake.)
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>>6105018
Didn't even consider that last part. Yeah, that IS convenient!

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you wake up groggy on a dusty granite floor of an enclosed chamber, balmy air assails your nose as you rise up and your thoughts begin to untangle, despite that you've no clear idea as to how exactly you got there. YOU DO KNOW ONE THING: you're really hungry and dehydrated right now.

what will you do?
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>>6105394
wot?
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>>6104456
>"Looks dead to me. You don't happen to carry a spare on you do you?"

"If you can get me down from here, My partner has some in his hip bag, I can help guide you out of this place easy"
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>>6105835
>"Right, so that's adjourned for now. If you have no better ideas, I'm planning on switching the bottom left inactive trap to the swinging blades, then disabling the floor spikes. With any luck, whatever gods that made this place were big on cost efficiency and didn't place their swinging blades to break their fly swatter just to slice anyone who was possibly caught in it. After that, it'll be up to my agility to get past them to get you down from there without skewering us both"
>"Unless you have a better idea?"
>>
"Right, so that's adjourned for now. If you have no better ideas, I'm planning on switching the bottom left inactive trap to the swinging blades, then disabling the floor spikes. With any luck, whatever gods that made this place were big on cost efficiency and didn't place their swinging blades to break their fly swatter just to slice anyone who was possibly caught in it. After that, it'll be up to my agility to get past them to get you down from there without skewering us both"
>"Unless you have a better idea?"


"that.... actually might work, just say the word when you're going to do it. will you catch me?"
>>
>>6105848
>"Ideally, I won't have to. But if you mean your foot's asleep, I can give you a shoulder to lean on until you get your circulation back"

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The Eternal Empire has stood for 14 millennia and has endured hundreds of wars, calamities, and rulers of every type. For the first time under the reign of House Heinrich, an armed expedition has been sent into the Lost Reaches.

Far from an exploration attempt, it's chasing the promise of piratical treasure.

>Previous Threads:
>https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Simple%20Space%20Empire
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Rolled 39 (1d100)

>>6105614
>>
Rolled 27 (1d100)

>>6105614
Time to suffer.
>>
Rolled 63, 51, 85, 20 = 219 (4d100)

>>6105614
>Roll nine
i'll roll 4 more to speed this up
>>
Rolled 25, 43, 14 = 82 (3d100)

>>6105614
Gotta plot the course of the remaining three fleets before we end up with another two week hiatus.
>>
Rolled 3, 2, 5, 2 = 12 (4d6)


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First thread: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/2024/93614781/#p93651974

Choosing not to hijack another thread because the mods will probably not be too pleased (I think it only worked / went under the radar for the original thread because it was already about evolution games, so it got traffic from people who play evolution games). I'm not the original hijacker, but I'm keeping the same rules: Go evolve, one alteration at a time.

Cladogram attached; if you evolve from something in the first thread, please specify which one you're evolving from. After that, reply to your chosen ancestor for each evolution.
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>>6106073
it’s still evolving from a species that was retconned out of existence
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>>6106096
Wait but it evolved from >>6101055 which wasn't retconned. It's >>6103404 that was erased.
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>>6106100
yeah as if the dick copypasted from the now ret-gone creature is doing that claim any favors
fuck it, new rule
no giving things huge dicks
or dick-anuses
or dick-lungs
or anything that belongs in /d/
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>>6101336
The Shelled Blung develops bristles on its arms to protect themselves against the Sans Sharks (>>6105329). When the Sand Shark approaches, the Blung will flail its arms wildly, and if they hit the shark the bristles will break off and stick themselves in the shark's skin.
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>>6106143
That's just all sea cucumbers, sea anemone, salamanders, frogs, catfish,mosquito larva, along with several hundred aquatic species or more, several worms aquatic and terrestrial, turtles do it when hibernating and hunting in the case of snapping turtles and in high enough concentration so can also pigs, mice, rats and most mammals as a ancestral trait due to how intestines are structured.

Also to be fair it was less of a dick then what it was based on trying to sanitize it, more the rib Crest of a frog or bird with a opening where it ends to act as a breathing hole tried to sanitize it but still doing what would make it good at breathing but put on backwards due to the wonky body shape

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AKA: “Meguca Royale: UK Edition”, because why not.
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Stephanie Smith

”O-oh holy shit.”

This is happening? No, it can’t be. This isn’t real.
”This isn’t real.”

“What was that, Steph?”
Damn it, she’s vocalising her thoughts.

“Nothing.”

Stephanie looks towards the ground with an unreadable face, and tugs on Megan’s sleeve. She gets the hint immediately, the pros of having a friend (soon to be a sister) that sticks by your side.

“A-ah, don’t worry. She’s just so happy to be adopted that she’s at a loss for words.”


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A couple minutes of hugging later, and Stephanie is recovered to sniffling instead of crying. She wiping her tears with a cloth that Megan conveniently brought, like she knew this was going to happen.

“Okay, last thing: We do have another sibling back at home. Her name is Elizabeth, Liza for short”

“Oh, you already have a kid? Why adopt us?”

“Well, we’ve been having… trouble lately. But we wanted a child and even Liza wanted a brother or sister. Adoption seemed like the most obvious choice.”

“How convenient for us. We get to be part a big, happy family. Isn’t it great, Steph?”

“Y-yeah, it’s great.”

Webster clears her throat. “Now that we’ve let the two parties meet and the two children have shown enthusiasm for having an adoption opportunity, we can get them ready to leave the Orphanage.”

“Are there any last things you want to do before leaving this drab place, Stephanie, Megan?”

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Viktoria Walker

Viktoria takes a few seconds to breathe in the air. So clear! How luxurious! Truly a sign that things are better now, the Miasma is cleansed from this land at least.

“Uh, hello? Earth to lady?”

Upon being beckoned by the girl near her Viktoria glances and prances in her direction. Hmm, very light clothing on this girl. Her legs are completely exposed and her shoulders are bare. Do all ladies dress this way now? What do they do when their clothing is damaged? Do they just acquiesce to being indecent?
Viktoria decides to levy all of the questions swirling in her mind onto the modern girl in front of her.

“Excuse me, but do all girls your age dress like you do?”

“...Yeah? Why are you asking me this, you look the same age as me.”

Viktoria feigns clearing her throat.
“I am not a… normal girl. I am new to this place.”

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“Young girl, I have an offer for you.”

“And that is?”

“I want you to work under me.”

The girl looks at Viktoria with a face of pure confusion.
“Huh? Was this really an impromptu job interview?”

“Yes!” Viktoria lied as easily as she breathed.

“Uh, hmm… Yeah, alright!”

It was that easy?!


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Abigail was very lucky that roll was above 40, or something bad could have happened.

Onto more important things:
Why was I so slow with this? That's a funny (read: frustrating) story. My laptop is an old fossil (it's literally discontinued and unsupported) and it started overheating during completely regular writing sessions. I tried getting some new thermal paste, but it came to me completely empty.
The result is that I had to write most of this update on my phone, which is an unenviable position.

Tl;dr: Amazon is now my most hated enemy behind Entropy.

This isn't an excuse for being slow though, I will speed up the updating schedule with slightly smaller updates.


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