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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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ARCHIVE: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=LGA2

> Monday, August 24th, 2015

SITUATION: http://pastebin.com/ziMsX6th
MECHANICS: http://pastebin.com/49M2eE8Z
THE RULES: http://pastebin.com/BEsprkBZ
THE TANK: http://pastebin.com/sJsgig6B
THE DIVISIONS: http://pastebin.com/xCQZAdqU
THE SHOP: http://pastebin.com/v6xeDRXj
DANON’S THE TEAM: http://pastebin.com/bUU2v0z8


Even though yesterday was a fun day out with Josephina, you still felt kind of awful from the news that Lyra got the job over you. You’re not sure why it hurts, but it does. You didn’t really want the job in the first place. But at the same time, all the perks of being a Rank One could’ve really helped you and your parents. By that point, you could’ve supported your parents, they wouldn’t need to work on LGA. They could get a nice house back on the mainland and pursue whatever they want. Mom could go back to Tankery, Dad could just be Dad.

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>> Polite
> Polite
I have no idea either.
That says a lot about me, Arisu and you.
> Polite
> Polite
I mean if we're being honest. Ellie is also kind of confused by it all. Arisu taking an interest in us is kind of a mystery too.

I kind of am okay with the philisophical arguments. I don't really hate Mei at this point. Just ideological clashes.
>> Neutral

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The soft glow of your pulsating medical tanks glimmer against the polished stone of the murals covering the walls as your drones march forth with piles of equipment balanced atop their carapaces with care. Nutrient vats slowly grow as drones pile various forms of collected biomass into the digestion tanks for processing, the piping slowly growing the short distance to the medical tank as a number of Phantom priestesses look on from just outside, their minds a mixture of fear, jubilation, and confusion at the strange but overwhelming display of hive biotechnology, unaware and incapable of understanding the magnificent complexity of the medical procedures being performed upon the childless queen that has looked over their tribe for as long as their legends can say.

You realize, like the Ralighans, and despite the Barren Queen's efforts to stamp out such superstition, you are a god to these primitive creatures, and the tribe's spiritual and practical leaders have all gathered to watch you weave magic before them. They watch your drones with reverence, avoiding their paths while following closely behind any time they leave the Barren Queen's chamber as your drones ignore them as inconsequential to their orders. Several workers, while standing idle awaiting a new order, have even had a number of small talismans pinned to their bodies, hanging from antennae or stuck to the thorax with a waxy cream harvested from the secretions of a small beetle analog.

You do not recognize the details of their activities as having any form of practical application, but as the Barren Queen slips into your medical pod, the mountains echo with the sounds of their alien music and invocations of the spirits of ancestors and other mythological entities.

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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Where were those cybernetics installed? In the medtank on the Hel's Angel? I guess they'd have to be pre-grown.
Hell yea
Just say that its a cultural thing. That we figure the best way to figure out a new race or polity's intentions is to let them think they have the advantage. Humanity failed most impressively.
Well that is actually a much better idea.
Actually I'll switch to this.

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I've made an interactive story made to function as a horror, kind of Silent Hill-esque adventure. Because this is thread # 1, I would like to take the introductory post to explain how things function as well as what you can expect from this story.

You play as a single person going through a personal quest. You don't know your name, you don't know the current year, and you have no idea where you are. Should you choose to progress, you may learn these things. You may even learn why you don't remember them to begin with. You'll probably discover things about yourself that you didn't even want to know. But that's really all up to you, now, isn't it?

The most influence you will have on the world around you is, perhaps, puzzle-solving. Oh, yes, there are puzzles in this /qst/. There is also rolled combat, as well as multiple choice decisions. Some of those choices will be very direct, and others may give you more leniency to do what you would like to do. I do provide images, but you should keep two things in mind. First of all, some of the pictures may just be outlines if the details haven't been explored yet, or seen. Second, I'm on a slight time crunch, as I would like to give regular replies. So the images may not be 100% in quality but they will reflect everything that is happening as the story goes along.

A few more things:

1. Expect the level of violence, gore, sexual themes, etc... In this kind of game to be what you would normally see in a Silent Hill game. As in, we're not going to have explicit sex scenes in here, but if you get spooped or offended easily this probably isn't the thread for you.

2. I do like giving my players a lot of freedom. As long as we just don't run off on a huge tangent, popular vote will be the deciding factor in doing whatever you want to do. If we get so far off track that it's ridiculous, I'll deus ex machina us back to a more appropriate point.

3. Just like the most popular vote picks the multiple choice option, the highest /roll in a combat scenario will be taken. Roll in 4chan, please.

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Move forward to the living room.
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(Alright, heads up everyone, I've got tornadoes on the ground where I am. Which... In my location is pretty much business as usual. But it might be an early night tonight if the power/internet cuts out.

Also, we're making an amendment here. Technically you don't know if a living room exists in this house or not, but because we're slower than I thought we would we'll just cut to there.)

You resolve to let the candles stay as they are for now. You don't think they're going anywhere.

You walk back the way you came, looking down at the angel as you pass through the kitchen. It's exactly as you left it, no changes other than the ones you made prior. You exit to the hallway, facing the first door you saw, then turn left. Walking down, you see another closed door on your right, more or less identical to the previous one. Then you turn left and see another arch opening not dissimilar to the one leading from the kitchen to the dining room.

You're standing at the west side of what appears to be a living room...

...You found the smell.

There appears to be a coffee table in the middle of the room, and sitting on said furniture is a clear, crystal glass bowl. Well. It would be clear if not for the overwhelming stench of rotten fruit inside of it. You don't know what you're looking at, but it would appear to have once been strawberries covered with white mold. And now it has turned into a grey sludge. You can still kind of make out the points from the berries, but you don't really want to get any closer to see the details.

Apart from that you notice several things. A very plush sofa and two arm chairs facing a rather retro television on a stand, A bookshelf towards the back corner, and a home phone resting on a night stand.

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Check to see if the phone works.
Hear hear. Land lines have their own power, so if the power goes out they might still work.
(You chose to check out the phone.)

You make your way towards the phone and take a look at it. It seems like any ordinary landline that you've seen before. The numbers are in order, the cords are all connected... Everything is how it should be.

You're standing at the phone.

A. Try to call someone (enter in a number).

B. Dial 0 for operator.

C. Pick up the phone and listen.

D. Move on to something else (specify).

You are Ian Miller and today is an important day. Today is the day you make your first repair as owner of Ian's Repair Shop. Unfortunately this very important day has yet to start for one simple reason. Your coffee machine is broken. You argue over whether it's worth being late over coffee, but your pride wins out in the end. After all what sort of repairman could let such a slight go unpunished. With that in mind you whip out your PET and jack in to begin a simple diagnostic. Immediately it is clear something is wrong. Mr Progs are seen running about in a panic and the sounds of pickaxes hitting digital dirt can be heard, the telltale sign of a Mettuar. Speaking of Mettuars you find your partner starring at you, silent like always.

Meet MetMan

>MetMan is a strange navi. He has the build of a stock navi, but wears a bright yellow hard hat and has a black void with eyes for a face. The rest of his body follows suit with bright yellow armoring over a black spandex body. He doesn't speak and rarely acknowledges being spoken too outside of completing his task, but he does seem to move with more vigor whenever he is asked to break something. His origins are a mystery. On his 21st birthday Ian got blackout drunk and the next day he woke up with MetMan in his PET. Some of his friends think MetMan was purchased in a back alley operation, others think he is a strange virus that killed and replace Ian's original navi. Ian himself thinks he just dared his navi to put on a Mettuar mid fight and his navi really got in to the roll.

Whatever his origin may be MetMan still follows your orders as you tell him to search the perimeter. Soon he stumbles across a gaping pit covered in Mettuars. Thinking quickly you

>Hit factory reset bypassing this whole problem, but losing all your settings
>Begin diplomacy
>Go virus busting

(Just kidding the tutorial is always mandatory)

Without a word combat begins
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You slot in crackshot and MetMan immediately gets to work tearing the floor out from under the hiding virus and sending him flying off in to the distance. Outraged one of the remaining Mettuars shoves his pickaxe into the ground creating a shockwave that you dodge effortlessly. Next comes your trusted friend BushidoMan. The world seems to darken a little bit as the samurai navi appears in front of the Mettuar that attacked and cuts it in half with practised efficiency and manages to take his twin with the follow up. The only thing that remains of the viruses is a stack of 500z and a hole that should keep the Mr Progs buisy for a little while.

You compliment MetMan as you jack out and beam at having fixed your coffee machine so fast. Guess that makes you your own first client. Speaking of clients yours awaits. As you get in your car you notice two emails in your PET. The first is from your friend Meera saying "Good luck on your first day!" The second from your friend Sarah saying "Who said you could work? Get back in my Kitchen!" Two wildly different sentences with the same meaning. With that done and you being only slightly late you head off to your first job. You've never really met your client before. You think you might have went to the same school as him. You might have even been in the same class, but honestly you're not sure. Not many people can claim to know Leon Williams. He seems to have a certain lack of presence that makes him almost impossible to remember. As you pull up to his house you notice him outside waiting for you. At first Leon seems to be around your height but, at second glance has a slouch that indicates he is probably much taller. He is pale with black hair and seems more than a bit uncomfortable in direct sunlight. He perks up when he notices you and he seems a bit impatient as you are getting out of your van.

"Your late" is all he says before turning around and walking back in to his house.

"Sorry" you reply. You try not to look put out by seemingly offending your first client as you march in to his house.

"So are you any good" he asks accusation thick in his voice.

"Well with this here wrench I can fix just about anything and anything it can't my navi can." you say with a little bit of pride welling up in your chest.

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>Yes sir you say before jacking in and running a diagnostic.
>>Yes sir you say before jacking in and running a diagnostic.
>Yes sir, but please try not to use the boiler while I'm working on it.
>jack in and run a diagnostic

You jack in and as always you are greeted by the ever starring face of MetMan. Once you wrench your eyes from his you almost think your PET is malfunctioning. What you thought was white static turns out to be steam. You apologize to MetMan for the heat and with seemingly nothing else to do you begin wandering in a random direction. First order of business find a Mr Prog and ask it what the hell is going on.

Roll a d100 for encounter

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After the untimely passing of Avatar Korra the nations of the world came together as one and paid respects to the late Avatar. Uniter of the Spirit and Human worlds, Savior of Republic city, and the champion of the pro bending tournament for the past seven years running. Not much is known about why or how Avatar Korra passed, but at only thirty seven the world suspects one of the truest problems that she had faced in her time as the Avatar. Equelists.

Since the Avatar defeated the equelist leader ,Amon several decades ago, the world has long since thought the movement was over. They would be mistaken. With the newest Avatar still being searched for by the White lotus, the cells of these equelist, kept in check by the presence of the Avatar have begun making their move. Across the great Nations of the world, average Joes spurred on by old equellist propaganda and the emerging technology of Future Industries, Verik Industries, and the Cabbage corporation have given them the power to fight their 'oppressors'

It has been eight years since the passing of Avatar Korra, and the division grows between benders and non-benders with every passing day. The White lotus have not divulged any information regarding a new Avatar being found in the Earth Kingdom. The held hope between the general public is that he or she returns soon to put an end to the hate in this advancing world.
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You exhale deeply. As much as you would love to agree with him, you know there is a slim chance that he could take that whole team alone. Even with you to help he would probably still lose. "How would one person go about beating an entire group of those thugs?"

"How? I'll show you, I'll show all you cowards to stand up and defend someone. Don't bother getting up though. It'd be a shame if your tea got cold!" The man stomps toward the door. Small child following closely behind.

The man throws open the door and leaves. Jogging past your window toward the location the shout came from. The boy hesitates, giving you a curious look over before trying to catch up with the older man.
"Poor kid, gonna lose that guy to..."

"Damn shame"

"Hope the kid makes it out okay a second time"

You hear some of the other customers talking. "What do you guys mean?" You ask them.

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>>B) Rush to help the child
>>B) Rush to help the child
"Ah damn, what'd you have to go and tell me that for. Now I will feel lick a jerk if something happens..."

"It's fine man, don't go. They'd kill you. Specially if your a bender. Them fellas don't like nobody, but a special place on their shitlist for benders."

"...Shit." With your fear laid out before you, you are held back. The concept of an early death is not one that you can happily choose... But... That kid. Before you can talk yourself out of your resolution, you jolt out of the cafe and down the street in the direction the two left.


You hope you are not to late... But you fear the worst. Your fears are recognized as the sound of electricity echoes from a flickering blue alleyway. The crackling of the electricity is complemented by a shout of pain, in a voice resembling the Water tribe man from earlier.

You head for the alley, but before you can get entirely there, three men emerge from the alley. Two on the sides, carrying an unconscious man each, the center has a man with a burlap sack slung over his shoulder.

The group heads across the street, around twenty yards in front of you heading towards a large Sato-truck. A fourth man emerges from the drivers seat to open the back of said truck.

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After getting lost in the bayou during an outing for your college ecology lab Trevor, you, wound up in some strange hidden realm inhabited by creatures like goblins and trolls. Initially it was quite a scary place as you were taken prisoner and nearly didn't survive. With some cunning though, you played upon the prejudice of the orc chieftain of a tribe here, and prompted a challenge to power. With dirty tricks, cunning and a bit of luck, you managed to win. This caused an uproar among the tribe but after much deliberation and consulting traditions, they agreed upon giving you a chance to try out being the new chieftain.

It has been about two weeks since then, as you continue to adjust to this strange land and its ways, as well as the workings of the tribe and your new accepted role as chieftain. Currently however, you have been taken prisoner by the ruler of a rival tribe, seeking to force you into an alliance and gain the cooperation of your tribe.

>An open ended game, what do you do?
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Oh geez. Wish you luck in life, kid.

We dont have their loyalty to do that. We're re-allocating whats theirs and their own people for our own tribe. The bias will be obvious to them. Nit to mention they dint want to leave their home. Lets see though.
And the Geletres need what they have more than us. Theyre in perpetual war by choice and not by choice. They're the U.S. of their region im the Cold War. They're the last formidable stigma to the expansion of the war trolls tribe. And they know it. We arent in war yet si we dont need this. I intend to allocate all our forces and start with this troll tribe first before moving our forces back south and outwards for conquest.
As for our slight food issue, Ill speak to Gremulda for fore-payment and get started on farming.

Not how it works.
You too kiddo, nothing personal.

Same with speaking for other people.
It's fine, I'm not offended. I can't apologize to you, however. All I did was state facts.

If you weren't an autist, people would probably respect you, you know? No need to spaz out all the time.
lol, if saying that makes you feel better about yourself, that's cool.
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>...Initializing QST.exe
>Discord: https://discord.gg/47rqc7j
>Twitter: https://twitter.com/Telemac39455609
>Welcome back. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dpoOsbWUK2g

[9 and a half hours remain.]

The cold mist in the air clings to your fatigues, causing them to stick to your skin. You dart behind some rocks, half an eye on your motion sensor, keeping to cover. The cold mist renders the hot figures of the Innies in front of you stark red in your thermal visor.

"Contacts, bearing 0, count 13," you report.

"Copy," comes the responses.

The Lizards slide into cover themselves - enough rocks have sloughed off the canyonsides to provide ample amounts - and check over the targets themselves.

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Rolled 11, 9 = 20 (2d20)


/roll 2d20
Rolled 14, 14 = 28 (2d20)

>Modified 20, natural 20: Dice gods, what the FUCK?!

You did some reading on Cyclopses on the ride here, and did a few inspections with the engineering team. Their focus was on keeping them together. You just wanted to know how to tear them apart. You twist down, grabbing the two control signal wires for the arms from under the plate, and rip them out. The exo's arms go limp as they lose the control signal. You move on to the heat regulator, and dismantle that with some twists of your knife. Finally, you pop the hatch with a bit of brute force to the hydraulics. The pilot comes tumbling out, gasping in the heat from the disabled thermal regulator. The *crack!* of Coombes' rifle puts him down for good.

TRAIT GAINED: Junkyard Fighter: When fighting mechanical enemies, add INT bonus to any combat rolls

Leqsmith gives you a thumbs-up. "Nice work there, Jackal. Seeing those things in action, I can see why the reggies are having some trouble with them. We should've asked for some anti-tank grenades."

"Query had a Scorpion. If it's still around..." you suggest.

Nanco shakes his head. "If it's still running, the Innies have it, unless Query engaged the lockout in time." In the side-on light shining through the mist, you see his eyes flick up to his clock. You have [7 hours] to take out the triple-A. "We need to get moving."


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This world is a world full of magic. Each living creature possess magic and many can harness its power to use in daily life. This has led to the world being full of strife and challenge. The strong rule the weak and the weak serve the strong. You are one with the potential to be strong, but will you be able to reach it and guide your nation to victory while you do so?

Welcome to Magical Civilization Quest. In this quest you shall do your best to lead your nation to victory in a world full of magic and fantastical creatures. Last time things continued to go well. You began to organize things in the village, fought the light mage again, had a son, and meet two new powerful faces. All of that was interrupted by a roaring beast in the settlement. Here is a link to the archive.

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Rolled 89 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

If they eat crystals we will need ensure have enough food or they eat our crystals also scholar is there enough crystals we can harvest them from pit and leave eggs enough. Also tornado
yes there were a lot.
Rolled 53 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

Once again you gather your mana into your hands. Thomas recognizes your attack and tries to speed up, but it is too late. Before he can reach you the mana you gathered forms into a tornado that wraps around him. You intensify the winds to keep him in the tornado, and while you do so you can hear sounds of annoyance through the winds.

With Thomas like that you think on the options you can use.

Thomas-lightly injured bound

Roll 1d100

Attack with gun



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Rolled 91 (1d100)

>J. Curse: slow
Alright, let's build up the combo again.
Rolled 94 (1d100)

>J. Curse: slow

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Some resources: https://mega.nz/#F!rFIDxRRK!IEzkLlroRoPwmDqtxKRMsw

Discord: https://discord.gg/GQMr35k

Character Sheet: http://pastebin.com/G48KCHjz (Now updated with new stats and journal entries)

Interlude & Chapter 7: >>1279480

June 20th, 1977. 8:00 AM
The gentle twilit glow of the low-hanging Hedge sun in your Hollow dances over your eyelids as you rise from the boxcar you were sleeping in. Breakfast is preserved pork slices and rolls. You start thinking about how to spend this day before the Summer Solstice:

>Follow up on a rumor? (Rumors found here: http://pastebin.com/2a3H84FR )

>Visit someone you know?

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You reach over and pat him on the shoulder. "Trust me, friend. You don't need to know that. Just take the wife out tonight. You don't want to be involved in what happens next."

You give him your best steely-eyed gaze.

Roll Presence + Expression (3 dice). No explosions. Must beat the result above.
Rolled 2, 1, 3, 1, 3 = 10 (5d10)

Whoops! Forgot to roll.
Rolled 2, 3, 6 = 11 (3d10)

Rolled 8, 4, 6 = 18 (3d10)

Rolled 4, 3, 4 = 11 (3d10)


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Previous Thread:




Equipment FAQ:


Oblivion's Husk:


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>Also ironic considering Anon's designated role in Red World as Red Joker. Red Joker is supposed to be the boogeyman of the Red. The devil incarnate in Red World who keeps everyone else in line
I'm not so sure this is his role as such, just what he is to others by dint of his reputation. His role (and the White Joker's) seems to be being the proverbial wild card to the four suits represented by the main contenders, since he has comparable perks and Red World access but no special requirements or limitations unlike, for example, Daegal or Phantom Edge. Argent was deemed unworthy of that armour, and despite obtaining the sword Akira was clearly just a placeholder for the real Phantom Edge. But anyone can be Joker as long as they kill the previous Joker, it's a free ticket to the endgame, and they wield as much power as the rest and how they choose to direct it is down to their nature rather than the nature of their position.
I think part of it was that anons just figured that manipulation was the name of the game, and everyone doomed to become the champion of a Hyades was gonna be sacrificed at some point, so why not strike first?
>How about telling Kazuya that the reason we fucked up is that we try to be like the ideal hero Kazuya embodies, with the optimistic outlook and idea that it's possible to save everyone, but that doesn't help because Anon is trying to be somebody he isn't.
Maybe we need to change our approach with this, comparing him to us hasn't been working so far. Maybe we should compare him to Argent, they're both more alike then we are, but also different in very key ways. Point out that for all the good he did and all his grand achievements fighting the Smilers and Correctors, he simply wasn't a noble enough person to be worthy of the armour. That Kazuya *is* speaks volumes of him. It's not his ability that matters, it's his character, and *that* is utterly beyond reproach.
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>Mio got kidnapped is likely being soul-raped by the Red World equivalent of Griffith
Pic related when
ironically fitting since Red Joker is missing an arm atm.

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Here's our discord where we handle direct communications/secrets.
Lore for the Quest can be found in these two pastebins:

Hop on the discord first

Year 741
>>Food production:6/10
>>Food stockpiles:5/10

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Rolled 86 (1d100)

"Aaaargh! Now you just pissing me off!"

He switches to a more defensive position, spitting blood, while attempting to retrieve the object he tried to use to attack the Queen. It seems that the blow finally jogged his memory.

The pan and cleaver are wielded dually, one against the other, trying to hold back whatever would come next.
Gregori shoves the Queen away with the cleaver in his right, hitting her right shoulder with his pan as he then has a window in which he manages to grab the club from the ground.
Rolled 94 (1d100)

"I've got two arms, Asshole. Enjoy a taste of the other one" Another Uppercut with my left arm this time.
Rolled 34 (1d100)

"Gregori attempts to slam the butt of the club into the Queen's face before turning around and trying to put this weapon in the correct position to actually load the thing - not shoot.

"Why no firearms designed for ogres..." Gregori grumbled.
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The second uppercut in the demon ogre's chin didn't send him flying - instead it just cracked his head in two, made him immobile for a few seconds before he collapsed.

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You are Captain Kusajishi Riku, and after a very long day you've finished with the Lieutenants under your tutelage. They've since been fed in your Division's mess hall and put up for the night in temporary quarters: your sister-in-law Miyako with your daughter, and Abarai, Kira, and Hinamori together in a small triple room with the hope that they'll be chatty with each other before they pass out from exhaustion.

Then of course you had to tuck Halibel and Apacci in, since they're still in their resurrección forms and wouldn't be able to fall asleep otherwise due to their heightened senses and unusually active reiatsu. To your credit you even tried to do the thing properly and read Apacci a bedtime story, which for some reason she protested at despite Tia's silent amusement.

Now night has fully fallen, leaving you to retreat into your own quarters. The windows are cracked open to invite the cool night air in and let the warm, stale air from inside out: this may be one of the last nights you'll be able to do that until spring comes... assuming you're still around to see it. The notes you wrote about Hadō #99 are spread out on the tatami in front of you, several pages of handwritten gibberish that feels at the same time both alien and tantalizingly familiar.

Yoruichi reclines on the couch nearby reading a book of her own, no title visible on its well-worn cover. It looks like it could be a thousand years old, and knowing her Clan it may well be.

With a frustrated sigh you collapse onto your back with a dull thump. “This is going nowhere.”

“That bad?” your wife muses, closing her reading and setting it on the cushion next to her. “Maybe you should take a break... I'll admit, fascinating as this may be I'm not getting much usable information from it either. I could do with a break myself.”

“So what'd you do with Omaeda after training?” you ask, forcing yourself upright and crossing your legs.

Yoruichi scoffs. “When he was done stuffing his face he passed out in your mess hall, so I figured I'd just leave him there 'till breakfast.”

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You ponder the situation carefully before deciding what you need to do next. “You four continue with this exercise until you get it right, I have to go check on some other students of mine.”

“You mean Rukia and that human girl?” Renji asks. He'd be raising an eyebrow if he had an eyebrow to raise.

“That's right. I have a responsibility to make sure they're up to snuff by the time Aizen makes his move.”

Heading back to the garden where Rukia and Tatsuki have been training, you find them both glancing about nervously... they probably felt the shock of the platform beneath them being pummeled by your hakuda.

“Sorry about that,” you apologize, taking a seat near them. “So, how are things going with you two?”

“I feel that my hakuda has improved somewhat, Captain,” Rukia inclines her head. “Being tested from dawn until dusk day after day has forced me to improve in ways normal duty and instruction have not required.”

“And I'm starting to get used to how to use my powers,” Tatsuki adds, glancing at her sparring partner. “I can just about keep up with Rukia here by using my zanpakuto.”

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And that's all for this session. Next week will begin with the fruits of Rukia and Tatsuki's labor.

Thanks for coming here, hope you had fun, and see you next time!
wait why are these two not training with the other three now?
get them in on that shit
Holy scrap that Tatsuki is hard core, and the fuck took that chunk outta her neck? Unless that's supposed to be a tattoo.
>I can just about keep up with Rukia here by using my zanpakuto
whelp, looks like Rukia's completely worthless

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Accepting new players anytime!

Manhorse's Pub - https://discord.gg/34YQ5eU

Player's Handbook - https://docs.google.com/document/d/1SLqObt4JuNEtWJoipfRe_g7zoKpCxC9zP_lZUecz04E/edit?usp=sharing

For New Players:
Please pick a name and a gender.

For Returning Players:
Time has been rewound back to before Last Stand, and all timers have been removed, except for these changes:
-Ko has met Aleera, and is in the City.
-Azkeroth has beaten Wood Temple and gained Levitation, becoming an Elementalist.

Alright everybody, from the top!
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"Oh, well I was asleep for the duration or something. I just woke up today in a Cryotube."
She says while wiping her hands off on her skirt.
"Cryotube huh? Well isn't that one heck of a...bizarre adventure."
Wait for a nonexistant laugh track while sipping my latte.
"Yeah, say, I've been going on and on about my problems. What about you? I'm sure you have lots of things going on."
Ko claims.
"Wellll, nothing much. I'm apperantly Aleera's pet, well, more like the Science Club team pet or something. I haven't been doing a whole lot with myself, since I already finished with my History and Math classes."

Hank "Worm" Othello

Testing trip.


Archive (First thread isn't there as it's on a different page. Find it by clicking "Pilot Quest" and scrolling down to July 2016. It's the first entry):

"How bad is it?"

"Bad. The compressor blades broke apart and gutted the port side engine and caused an engine fire. The shock of the failure caused a few of the fuel lines in the starboard engine to be shook loose, resulting in a loss in engine power. Both engines are total constructive failures, which is par for the course if you think about it. The engine bay armouring in the port nacelle needs to be replaced, we've got cracking in the main landing gear and some of the structural frame. All of which needs replacing. It should take a few days if we use parts from other tomcats and some of the eagles. Though it will take week plus if we have to ship in new build parts from the states."

Dredd sighed as Zeus gave his report in the botched landing a few days ago. Your return being delayed by your insistence on staying with your bird. Slider's bird had actually come out the better, at least she hadn't botched the landing. Today however was an very important day, one that you had frankly been dreading. Today was the day of the ball at the Imperial palace, And everybody in VF-21 was dressed in their best. You were dressed in you dress whites, your officer's sword on your right hip with the small tanto fitted alongside it.

The plan for the night was to simply mingle, maybe have a couple of glassed of champagne, but under no circumstances were you to get drunk. Your group was to be on it's best behaviour. You were not to insult people, but if somebody tried to start things with you, you were to try and diffuse things without a fight.

"Do we have any idea what the princess and her unit will be doing?" You asked as you adjusted your ribbons again. You knew that you had been put up for more, but you hadn't been given them.

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"Did you ever qualify for other aircraft?" You changed the subject slightly. Hoping to push the conversation along.

"Do you mean front line aircraft? Or do want me to include trainers?" Svetlana asked for clarification, looking over as the Admiral and his wife looked on.

"Just front line aircraft. I think we can leave out the trainers." You replied, you didn't really count trainers and the likes as useful. But hey, you never knew when the info would be useful.

"Well... aside from the old naval flanker, I was trained to fly Mikoyan-Gurevich MiG twenty ones and twenty sevens." She paused for a couple of seconds, before grimacing. "I also flew a Sukhoi SU twenty four back in Afganistan."

"You were deployed to Afghanistan?" Miss Harris asked curiously, taking a renewed interest in your wingmate.

"My unit was assigned to fly close air support against Mujaheddin strongholds." Svetlana nodded, but the frown never left her face.

"Touchy subject?" You asked, reading your comrade's expression. Your comrade was quiet for a few seconds, before shaking her head.

"No, it's fine. It's just wasn't a very... nice deployment." Svetlana explained, here eyes glazing over slightly as she remembered back.

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>Have Admiral Harris go first, you'll take your cues off him.

Higher rank, seems simple enough

>Stay separate from Svetlana for now. You don't want to imply a non existent relationship.

A) Crazy Ex-Girlfriend is going to be showing up soon
B) Wouldn't want there to be too many rumors surrounding the whole defection
This guys speaks sense: >>1305673
>Have Admiral Harris go first, you'll take your cues off him.
>Stay separate from Svetlana for now. You don't want to imply a non existent relationship.
>>Have Admiral Harris go first, you'll take your cues off him.
>Stay separate from Svetlana for now. You don't want to imply a non existent relationship.

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