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Welcome back.

Rules are simple: Votes are tallied every hour, with whatever course of action being the most popular being the course of action taken. Write ins are encouraged and non-mutually exclusive votes will be combined if possible.

When a roll is called for, roll however many D100 are specified. 5- is a 'crit fail' and generally means something bad is about to happen. 95+ is a 'crit success' and generally means something good just happened. a 'crit success' trumps a crit fail. User input on both will be taken into consideration.

Inventory, pokemon stats and other links: https://docs.google.com/document/d/15i2N08IpWqitoTJujsUMishe4PLbao1lqT-bCAmvPcE/edit

Discord: https://discord.gg/B9rHx5Zw

For a short summary for the new and to recap:

You are Alex. A newly minted trainer and camping enthusiast just starting out on your journey at the age of seventeen after your father lost his job in order to help pay the bills. On the road, you met Fie, the Fire Gym Leader, Gareth a novice Aura Guardian on pilgrimage and Holly, a runaway heiress using a pseudonym. You've also made enemies of Team Green a group of violent, radical activists looking to abolish pokemon training.

Recently, Fie returned to her gym for the time being.

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Jail Quest: a text adventure occasionally illustrated.

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

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

Previous thread:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2023/5880376/

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

You are Rosa Montagni, goblin con artist. On the way on your job/community service to check and maybe repair the four reality anchors that kept this former prison universe named Gongalla (where you live!) safe, you've traveled with a team of your own - among which is your cousin, Craig.

Who's currently missing and may be in this Northern logging town's brothel, somehow.

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It is a dark age. The monsterfolk that have dreamt for over a millennium awaken, flooding the lands, leaving behind embers, mere regions that hold out in what were once great kingdoms and empires. The roads are long and dangerous, but at least the sky still remains bright longer in the summer.

Some welcome the change. Some oppose it. Some pursue their own goals in this age. A Stranger travels the lands, seeking his own path...

>...the Stranger is human. The great Confederation of human kingdoms has dissolved 150 years ago, fallen to bickering between the once-strong Council of Seven. The turmoil worsened as they faced the rise of the monsterfolk over the past hundred years, the nations dissolving further into provinces that hold only formal loyalty to the kings by now. The Stranger appears in one of these vestiges and seizes the power by rousing the tired people into rebellion, playing into their desire for change and the need to safeguard their future against the monsters.

>...the Stranger is a vampire. The fortune of monsters has risen in the past hundred years, and they have taken many lands from the forests of the elves to the orc mountains. This rapid rise, however, made all the more difficult the division of power. The monsters are divided, and they need a strong hand lest they get pushed back to the North... The Stranger kills the previous vampiric overlord of a monster tribe with the holy Silver and Salt, and takes the reins himself.

>...the Stranger is an elf. Embers. This is what the elven kingdoms are. They are a proud and noble race, but the days of Candle Kings are long past, not to speak of the Shining ones. Those who once confidently lived to 300 years are now lucky to live to 120. And the dark elves... the split has caused a series of isolationist decisions by the kings, and now they lead quiet, dull lives in their wooden homes and palaces, unknown to the outside world and silently detesting it. Though one kingdom's citizens seem to have tired of this life... It is here that the Stranger seized power, playing into these moods.

>...the Stranger is an orc. The greenskins have experienced the effects of monster invasions as well. The pillaging of the humans has come to an end as a result, and with no influx of wealth and new goods the system that was in place is now under threat. Legends of the Golden Horde are still told around bonfires, and the laws it instituted are honoured to this day. In a tribe dissatisfied with its chieftain, the Stranger seizes power by besting him in single combat.

(cont.)

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You are Mazela, a proud transgender hedge witch! Just two weeks ago, you heroically saved a peaceful peasant village from a menacing monster. Today, you find yourself in a much gentler setting, seated before eager young faces at the local school for your Witch Queen Story Hour! You believe deeply in the importance of children learning about transgender people from a young age, convinced that bigotry is learned, not innate. Children, with their pure and accepting hearts, hold no inherent prejudices, unlike transphobic adults whose hearts have been twisted by hatred and prejudice. As you prepare to open a book, a child's voice cuts through the quiet, "What story will you read us today, Miss Mazela?" The room's eyes are all on you, filled with curiosity and innocence. You pause, considering which tale to share. Each story is an opportunity to affirm that being transgender is normal and that trans witches are witches. This isn't just storytime—it's a chance to sow seeds of acceptance and understanding in the fertile minds of the young! You read the story of
>Sir Eowyn of Rohan, who was assigned female at birth but defied traditional gender roles to become a warrior
>Cinderella, a timeless tale of an orphan transgender girl, who with the help of her fairy godmother, overcomes transphobia and finds true love
>The Little Mermaid, a transgender mermaid who defies the patriarchal notion only ciswomen can be mermaids
>other

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In his persistence, your father has shackled you to his tradition against your will. Born into the world of the forge, your apprenticeship in the family blacksmithy began before you could even walk. The burden of inheritance didn't weigh heavily on you until your father went away to war when you were a young child. For six long winters, he was gone to fight in distant lands, leaving no respite in your mind to whatever fate befell him in his absence. Your mother, while a blacksmith herself, was the child of a Skald. Perhaps to ease both your mind and hers, she sang tales of cunning heroes slaying beasts of yore. In the absence of the smithy, dreams of adventure filled your mind. Perhaps you, too, could be a hero that Skalds sang of.

When your father returned, he was a changed man. There was no shortage of battle scars earned over the years. A missing eye, a freshly amputated leg, and no doubt many others hidden from the eye were present. But in his eye, there was a unique dimness. Perhaps in his journey, he had constant thoughts of his legacy. You. His return brought a reinvigorated burden into your life. Although you honed your skills in his absence, they always lacked in your father's presence. Your dreams were for naught. All that mattered now was the legacy you alone would inherit. And you had better do your damnedest to be worthy of one like yours.

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You are a GNOME. Currently, you live deep within a dungeon that is under the spooky dark forest. Feeling bored, you decide to see what everyone else in the dungeon is up to. You haven't seen another gnome in a good while.

You have a few skills. You have a natural affinity for tinkering and engineering. You're also alright at casting some spells, but you like illusions and tricks mostly. Also, compared to other demi-humans and monsters, you're kinda small. That's okay.

SKILLS:

Tinkering +4, Small +3 Illusions +3, Magic +2

When we encounter a test or try and do something where failure brings a negative consequence, we'll roll 2d6 against a target number. If our roll meets or passes the target number, we succeed. Yay!

Anywho - you come across a simple wooden door, and a strange fissure in the stone wall of the dungeon. Which way will you go to begin the adventure?

>Wooden door. That's simple enough. I'll probably find some other gnomes this way.
>Fissure. Might lead to a cave, or a shortcut through the dungeon. But, I might encounter more dangerous monsters.

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I think it's time we blow this scene
Get everybody and the stuff together
Okay, three, two, one, let's-
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i0DON3AjhW4


...
>Start

>Tutorial

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Jakarta Quest: a 100% hand-drawn quest.

You are an average Indonesian girl struggling to find a good husband. You aren't particularly beautiful and stand at only 148 cm tall. You earn a living by drawing art, which brings in just enough to cover your rent. Living in Jakarta, you've been hearing reports about missing women and children. According to urban legends, they are being kidnapped by the nagas, mythical half-human, half-serpent beings. Rabbi Tovia Singer, the sole rabbi in modern-day Indonesia, has been raising funds to search for the missing people. He is kind, quite handsome, and you find yourself wondering if you should date him.

>Send him a romantic letter <3
>Meet him in person at Beit Torat Chaim, his synagogue!
>Investigate his fund-raising campaign (?)
>Write In

Quest idea from >>6024427 >>6023968 and >>6010808

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We once ruled the Dilona Valley. You once ruled. The heart of our empire, reduced to crumbling ruins and cold ash. Destroyed from within and without.

Since time immemorial, we warred with the lycans, the werewolves and werebears with their Druidic Circles. We've always tested ourselves, fighting for flocks and hunting grounds. But as we were drawn to the cities, we forced the Circles into retreat. We built a kingdom for vampiris, bent the mortals to us. But without a common foe, we began to bicker amongst ourselves.

The Four Clans of the Ordo Vampiris were not ready, had become indolent without active challenge when the Circles resurfaced and attacked. Our leaders, the Clan Strigoi, created droves of Spawn to fight against the lycans and druids. But the Spawn didn't want to die after gaining immortality. They cast down the Strigoi, leaving the oldest and strongest vampiris dead when they were needed most. The elders cursed them as they fell, dubbing them “zakazi.” Savages, in the Eld Tongue. The rabble wore it like a badge of honor.

The new Zakazi rose to challenge the Circles and the remaining clans. They were sloppy and animalistic - they caught the attention of the Holy Galgen Empire. They sent vampire hunters and Inquisitors en masse. The Dilona Valley was awash in the worst kind of blood - ours.

The clan elders came together and devised a plan. The Ordo Vampiris retreated to ancient and buried tombs and caves. It was shameful but our enemies were too many, too active. Let them bleed each other dry. We can outlive them. We can get our revenge.

You can get your revenge. You are vampiris.

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**SCREAMS IN THE SNOW**

When snow covers the dust and blood of the Old West, what goes on beneath the skies often escapes easy observation.

More than two hundred years ago, settlers entered into an agreement with a clan of natives, whereby they would unite to resist the cannibal hordes from the north.

Victorious in the war of expulsion, the Deeplake village and the Watki tribe continued to coexist in apparent communion.

The Watki tolerated the immodest living space of the Deeplake whites, who in equal concession ended explorations of Watki territory and, in a rare lapse of restraint, refrained from stripping them of their women.

However, as time passed, the inevitable trade and movement of men between the two communities began to flourish, forming relationships that challenged the initial borders.

But the wheel of fortune, capricious and relentless, reserved a cruel fate for them.

A harsh winter, accompanied by relentless famine, threw the village and tribe into a spiral of hunger and despair. The fields and woods, once fertile, now lay barren under the relentless snow; the rivers, once generous, dwindled until they became mere trickles of water.

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>PREVIOUS THREAD!

https://boards.4chan.org/qst/thread/6002748#bottom

>Team info will be kept here
https://text.is/QY4NK

>Spaghetti points are used for all sorts of boons and special usages for options in dialog and battle. But they also affect dice checks and other things. So earn em but spend them when you can!
Current Spaghetti level is 6

Amon G. Sus was a homeless pokemon trainer of 13 years of age. He won a local tournament in Castelia City and managed to win a 2 month all expenses paid trip to Alola! After a long struggle to get to Alola you've met an interesting fate for arriving. You've met the oddball trainer Stars who has called you his "pupil" and taken an interest in you. You met some "Kahuna" named Nanu who seems to a bit more then he's saying about the former. And you've met the Unova Champion Hilda and a chance encounter turned carnal has struck you with a case of "what do I even do now?"...Back to the story

You get out of bed. Feeling stronger now. But also light headed. Was last night real? You look at your Pokemon playing about. You have no idea what to do next. The clock says 12 pm.

>Go out and get some food

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You don't need to look at the time to realize the World you knew ended long ago. Just stare into the barren, snow-coated horizons showered by white blizzards, where pollinated currents permeate in between like ominous tendrils looking for something — anything to lay their accursed touch on. To make matters worse, there is not a single soul in sight, save for the frozen bodies that lay dormant under the barren fields, slowly enveloped by the all-reaching roots craving for sweet, reddish nectar. Maybe it's better this way, risking coming face to face with another "Living" One would be the last thing you'd wish for in this quiet hell.

Before everything went fubar, you recall the news spread by broadcast towers on that frantic day, congratulating some team of scientists for successfully cultivating Flora to become more efficient, stronger, and adaptable amidst the rapidly worsening climate of industrial society. Only, they had no idea of the sprawling behemoth they were about to transform nature into.

The nuclear winter landed hours after the Spread occurred, but even so, it was too late to completely erase The Rosebed. Rather, thanks to its many genetic improvements, and a considerable lack of humans to hinder its efforts, flower-based lifeforms expanded even further, being quick to affirm their infant organisms as the apex predators of this new world, and to relentlessly pursue those who still aren't one with its blossoming petals...

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((This is a one-shot quest with the goal of enjoying some creative space ship action. It may meander a bit but I’ll try to make it a proper self-contained experience that ties up neatly. I’ll be using Homeworld Style ship classification because I think it’s an fairly straight forward short hand for ship sizes: strike craft < corvette < frigate < capital))
It has been millennia since humanity became a star faring race. Enough time for stellar regimes to have risen and fallen, for technologies to be forgotten and relearned and for a diaspora of life; both human and alien to spread across the galaxy. You are the owner of a shipyard out in neutral space.
The galaxy is full of opportunity, clients both human and alien will consider placing orders with you. Unfortunately, the sheer diversity of the factions in this stellar region means there is no unified currency. Who you do business with and how they pay you will be as important as what you sell.

Where is your ship yard located?
>A bustling trade route; it is easier to pick up contracts here especially short-term ones. Doing business will be more expensive as raw materials will have to be bought and shipped in. The trade route means that currency will have more purchasing power and there will be more opportunity to acquire technologies and favours through trade.

>A remote but resource rich system; your ship yard supports your own mining operation which drastically reduces material costs. However you will have fewer trade opportunities and “impulse buys”, securing repeat business with reliable clients will be key to success.

>Yours is the official ship yard of an independent colony that has decided to expand its orbital industry. You will have a steady client with the colony itself and the support of other entities owned by the colony. However while you have a certain amount of autonomy you will be expected to prioritize the colony’s ship orders first.

>cont

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Your name is David "Gunny" Rockefeller, no relation.
A veteran of the united states marine corps, you find yourself in a far-out situation after an all-too-close encounter of the third kind!

In the last thread you spent some time working on a set of space-ready guns, suitable for use by humans and non-humans alike.

Besides that, you also spent a good amount of time traveling the world and relaxing with your crew, something you don't get to do a whole lot of.
A lot of it was, for you at least, an excuse to get authentic food right from the source. Stuff you could print out later on the nanofab.

However, during one of those relaxing moments, you were attacked by chinese spies. Well, mall cops, really.
Already not being a big fan of China, you retaliated by having SHODAN shut down their infrastructure for a day, and blasting uncomfortable truths across their internet and airwaves.

Believing, perhaps rightfully so, that this was an attack by the US... China began ramping up it's invasion plans, sending thousands of people to mexico for a quiet land invasion.
But with all the world's computers in SHODAN's hands, it's hard to slip anything past you. So of course, you responded... proportionally.

Once again, you shut down China's infrastructure. Mainly it's communications and military were affected, with the public largely having been spared in order to prevent mass starvation and likely large-scale war.

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Previous Thread
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2024/5962747/
=============
Recap: Paracelsus got over her freakout, and you explored the castle a bit. Right now, you have decided to trust her, and will physically hold down her mother, who is crazy, at her behest.
=============

"Alright, miss. I need you to stay still and lie down." You say, steadily getting close to the woman, who is quick to realize what's going on, it seems like. She starts yelling:
"AWAY! AWAY YOU BRIGAND! I WON'T KOWTOW TO YOUR DEMANDS! NOT TO YOU, NOT TO ANYBODY! I AM MY OWN WOMAN!"
"And that's just fine, but we need to make sure that you're well." You say, trying to keep some veneer of civility. You are rewarded by such shrewd diplomacy by having a hardcover book thrown at your head. You dodge it just fine, of course.
"I AM WELL! WHY MUST PEOPLE KEEP ASKING THAT!?" Paracelsus' mother screams, and Paracelsus herself adds:
"What are you waiting for!? Grab her!"

Well, alright.
Going low, you all but slide into her, essentially slamming your shoulder into her belly, and flipping her over your shoulder. She starts bashing your back and kicking her legs, but even before you were granted scales as good as chainmail, you doubt it would have harmed you very much. Then, you slam her into her nearest bed, before you hold her down properly. Arms restrained and above her head, and you get behind her, wrapping your legs around her hips, and using your brawn and weight to stop her from moving.
"Excellent. Just a moment, Reynauld." Paracelsus says, as she takes out some kind of horrible medical device. The mother keeps screaming, though it's nothing you can understand at this point, and it lets Paracelsus jam it into her mouth.

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