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File: infernalharvest.png (594 KB, 500x500)
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Your village was a quiet, humble place nestled in the shadow of a mountain, known for its verdant fields and peaceful way of life. The villagers were simple folk—farmers, shepherds, and artisans who lived in harmony with the land. Everyone knew one another, and festivals were celebrated with laughter and song. But in the weeks leading up to the fateful night, something had begun to shift. Strange figures cloaked in shadow were seen near the outskirts, livestock began to disappear, and mutilated remains were discovered in the woods. A sense of unease settled over the community, though no one could have imagined the horrors to come.

The attack came on a moonless night, shrouded in unnatural darkness. Villagers were roused by clanging bells and guttural chants, and flames erupted from the square where hooded figures gathered around a glowing rune circle. Their leader, a gaunt man with glowing red eyes and a voice like the echo of the abyss, raised a wicked blade and declared the dawn of a new age. Cultists moved methodically, dragging people from their homes to the square. Resistance was met with brutal efficiency—those who fought were slaughtered or subdued with dark magic. Helpless, you watched as your neighbors were bound in a massive spiral around the runic circle. The leader began chanting, his voice rising as each villager was sacrificed, their blood feeding the glowing runes. The air grew thick with sulfur, and the ground trembled. When the final scream faded, the circle erupted in a column of fire, and from it emerged a monstrous entity—a towering demon wreathed in flame and shadow. Its presence was overwhelming, and with a wave of its massive hand, the entire village was engulfed in hellfire. Homes, crops, and people were consumed in moments. Friends and loved ones burned before your eyes as the cultists laughed and walked willingly into the flames to join their master.

Amid the chaos, you remembered the old tunnel beneath the chapel, used long ago by clergy to escape danger. In the confusion, you broke free and sprinted to the chapel, flames licking your heels as the inferno raged around you. You pushed aside a loose stone slab behind the altar and plunged into the narrow, pitch-black passage, choking on smoke and fear. The screams of the dying faded behind you until there was only silence. When you emerged hours later, you collapsed, staring at the distant glow of your village’s destruction.
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Rolled 73, 24, 16 = 113 (3d100)

>>6168938

Alright, let me roll for the bandits to see how your diplomatic roll goes.
>>
>>6168894
>>6168938
>>6168948
>>6168978
>>6169763


You raise your hands, holding your spear at an angle to show you’re not making any sudden moves. Your voice carries over the tense silence, clear but edged with determination.

"Listen to me," you say, stepping forward just enough to command their attention. "We don’t want trouble, and I can see you don’t either. These berries"—you reach into the pouch Ananda handed you earlier, pulling out a handful of glistening, dark fruits—"are a rare delicacy. They’ll fill your bellies better than whatever scraps you’ve been living on."

One of the younger bandits eyes the berries hungrily, his grip on his club faltering. The leader, however, narrows his eyes.

“Enough with the speeches,” he snaps, his blade flicking forward as he steps closer. “I don’t want your shitty berries. We’re not starving; we want your stuff. Now, drop that spear, that claw, and that pouch of herbs to the ground, slowly. Then turn around and walk away, or I’ll show you what trouble really looks like.”


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AI slop
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>>6169770

> Run away: Grab Ananda and make a break for it, trusting the forest to slow your pursuers.

Eh, let’s bail. Ananda is probably pretty fast in the woods
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>>6169770
I don't really see what these rolls mean, if I roll good the bandits needed to roll good to accept? I wanted to give them the poison berries so they would get sick and the fight would be easier. Not talk my way into giving up our stuff to leave.

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You were at the village farms tilling the soil in preparation for the sowing when a giant black flying lizard descends from the sky. Mounted on it there is this guy in a dark armor and cloak. He says in a spectral voice "I've come for the tribute!", then his lizard grabs a couple girls and he flies away.
You wouldn't give two shits about it, but one of the girls he grabbed was your crush and the other was your cousin! I mean, both were your cousins, but only one was your crush.
Infuriated, you decide that you're going on an epic journey to get your cousins back.

Right now you just have a hoe and no money to your name though. The hoe isn't even yours.

What do you do?
> Find a stout club and go raid a dungeon for riches, you hear adventurers do it all the time
> Consult the village elders for guidance on your new adventure
> Join a group of brigands for equipment and training
> Write in
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>>6167749

> Join a group of brigands for equipment and training

I’ll bite, OP
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>>6167774

You approach a group of brigands. At first they try to rob you, but upon noticing you have no money they hear your sad story.

You tell them you were hoping to get some equipment and training with them.

They laugh at your face and say you'll get equipment and training alright.

They beat you almost to death and then toss you a copper dagger.

"Meet us by the forest tomorrow before dawn if you have guts. Otherwise just hope our paths never cross again.", says the bandit leader.

> Meet with the bandits the following day
> Run back to the village and seek healing
> Continue your journey beyong the local bandit's territory

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>>6167794
>Meet with the bandits the following day
>>
>>6168438


You meet with the bandits the following day!

"You got balls to come back here kiddo! I like it. So you're not going to be bait for the caravans. You will stay in the road and pretend to be injured for them to stop by and help you. Then we slit their throats and steal their cargo!"

> Agree with the plan
> Don't agree with the plan
> Write in

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ROUND 41:
>The Menace takes NC without contest and donates the remainder of his roll of (40) and then donates his remaining (33) moves to the Cannibals who attack the Emu's (33) vs (8)
>The Ayys make no roll, so the fellowship gives up their own roll have them progress (29) spaces.
>>
previous round
>>6167979
>>
>>6161308
>>
Rolled 4667 (1d9999)

>>6167979
Ok, game ending soon. Im attacking the Hobbits through New Zeland.

Emu and Petrol Cannibals, you talked about peace, sign it and we can humble the greatest threat to freedom to eat humans.
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>>6167979
Honestly, we've lost most of the players and the original OP. Best just to call it here and be done with it.

GG all.
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>>6168401
Fair play, GG everyone.

I guess I will belatedly accept the win.

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You were a black dragon, a terror that haunted the dreams of mortals, your presence alone enough to drive entire regions to despair. The adventurers who dared invade your lair were no match for your might. Their swords clanged harmlessly off your scales, and their magic fizzled like raindrops against a roaring fire. One by one, you dispatched them, your strength undeniable even as their blows left painful scars across your body. The last one, the leader, lay at your feet, gasping his final breath. His defiance burned brighter than his life force. "You will pay for all those girls you kidnapped," he rasped, blood trickling from his lips. "If not in this life, then the next!"

You sneered, the sound like distant thunder. "Your curses are as pitiful as your swordsmanship." With a swift, merciless strike, you silenced him, his body falling limp in a pool of crimson. Turning, you prepared to bask in your victory and indulge in the spoils of your conquest—the captives you’d taken, trembling in the shadows. But before you could take a step, a blinding light illuminated the cavern, its radiance cutting through the darkness.

From the golden glow emerged the avatar of the elf goddess. Her form was ethereal, her silver hair flowing as if caught in a divine breeze, and her emerald eyes burned with righteous fury. You let out a growl, the deep rumble echoing off the cavern walls. "What do you want?" you demanded, your voice weary yet laced with venom. "I’ve had enough interruptions for one day."

"Return the girls, dragon," she commanded, her tone unyielding, "or I will see to it that you are punished."

A low chuckle escaped your maw. "You’re not supposed to meddle in mortal affairs, goddess. Stick to your forests and let me enjoy my spoils. The god of dragons will hear of this interference."

For a moment, the goddess hesitated, doubt flickering in her eyes. But her resolve solidified, her voice ringing out like a blade striking steel. "Your atrocities cannot go unanswered. You will know the suffering you’ve inflicted."

"Wait," you began, raising a claw, "perhaps we can—"

But the goddess’s spell was already upon you. Pain seared through your body, and a blinding flash consumed your senses. When it cleared, the cool breeze of the forest replaced the stifling heat of your lair. You opened your eyes, disoriented, and found yourself lying on the forest floor, naked and vulnerable. Gone were your scales and wings, your towering form and fiery breath. You looked down in disbelief, seeing soft, pale skin and human hands.

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>>6173848
Will you start from the beginning or from where we left off?
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>>6173877
where we left off, unless you guys already want to vote on it to be completely new
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>>6173890
Up to you. Since we just started the only difference would be us successfully scavenging some tools.
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>>6173713
>>6173877

and away we go
>>6174244
>>6174244
>>6174244
>>
>>6165751
Were you the dude who was writing dragon girl quest with the witch

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Previously on Breadwinner Adventurer Quest:
>You escorted Helmod, a blind old man with a tragic past, to the Oracle of the Moon
>Along the way, you fought off a deadly and unnatural creature with a barbed tail and a human face
>Having completed your task, you decided to return with your earnings to your home in Hobley
>You encountered the party of Odneyn the Otter on the road, who appears to be going to the same place

Although you could easily lie and send them wandering off in the complete opposite direction, you decide not to impose your own personal grudges with the reeve on a group of complete strangers. Remarking that Odneyn's reputation precedes him, and that you would be happy to guide him and his company to what is, in fact, your own destination, you take your position at the front and start leading the way.

You quickly get a sense of their various personalities: Odneyn is unspoken leader, easy-going in his manner, and gregarious to a fault. He chatters away to no one in particular about the travails of the road, the beauty of the countryside, even a rather heated debate on the virtues of hounds versus housecats (Odneyn is firmly in the hound camp, while his bald companion violently insists on the superiority of the feline).

The others are more reserved, with varying motivations for their reticence. The woman in white seems to regard it as beneath her to participate in such mundane discourse. Her younger attendant tries to emulate her mistress, but you catch her smiling once or twice at Odneyn's more comical refrains. The Suthermann, on the other hand, is silent because his entire attention seems to be spent scanning the dimly lit environs of the road, as though he expects an ambush any minute now. He is very different from the Suthermann you met in the mountain, not nearly as unnerving in his bearing and lacking those strange glowing eyes and the smooth, ageless visage. If not for the long white hair you would not have even recognized him as a member of his race. Finally, the mousy man with the bow seems completely content to just listen and watch, only breaking his silence to offer a sardonic comment or two. You get the impression that nothing escapes his notice, it is all being scrolled away in some mental ledger for later use.

Eventually, Odneyn exhausts his store of conversation and falls silent--with still a ways to go on the road. Now would be the perfect time to bring up some matters of your own and seek Odneyn's counsel. He is after all quite well-travelled. You could ask about the strange coins you received from Samuel Longsword, or the unnatural beast you fought on the mountain. Or perhaps it is wiser to hold your tongue and keep your own counsel.
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>>6174443
+1
>>
OP here. Sadly, seems I like need to go on hiatus again. It's another one of those cases where life seems to imitate art (if this can even called that). Not sure when I'll be back.
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>>6175238
Sad, do keep us informed though. Maybe also archive the quest on suptg.
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>>6175238
Disappointing, but understandable, the holidays are over. Thanks for writing! Was a pleasure reading, that's for sure. At least this time we know where you went off to. See ya around.
>>
>>6175238
Damn. Good luck man.

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You are Noel Tiberius di Hazaran, the warrior-queen of the mountain kingdom whose name you share by birth. And this is what you hope will be your last return to the land where you and the rest of those who share your blood and your training were created. ‘Enhanced’ with the blood of monstrous yōma at a young age, you and the other survivors of that process completed a brutal training regimen meant to turn you into the ultimate monster-hunters.

That is what you were told, and as the truth has come out that was not entirely false. Certainly you always knew that the Organization was suspect, but learning that they had your father overthrown and killed to ensure that you had nowhere else to turn was eye-opening. That was even before you started to learn even more about what they had been doing – creating the very monsters you were ostensibly meant to destroy, deliberately pushing its own warriors to the edge of emotional collapse, and eliminating potential troublemakers. They had wanted to create a warrior with powerful yōki and regenerative abilities, but who they could control to use against their enemies.

Now you’re on the verge of pushing them out of your homeland, apparently once and for all, with the surprise invasion of their last major facility on the island of Lavinia. Two of the moving parts for that invasion plan fell into place the way they were meant to, with a raiding party of your own kind slipping ashore to mark targets for two armed corvettes that sailed in behind you, also under cover of night.

The third prong, an infantry push into the hills overlooking your enemy’s last port in the region so that a number of modern mortar teams could hit targets that the corvettes might miss due to their firing angle. After helping to get that infantry advance back on track, you’ve arrived on a hilltop that has a view down onto the port – specifically, you can see several locations where your enemy has cover against the shelling from the waterfront, and has begun a counterattack.

“Well,” you muse aloud, “we can’t have that now can we?”

You turn to Cameron, the senior officer among this formation of soldiers. “You can see those positions from here, correct?”

Sometimes it’s hard for you to judge – since your vision, especially in the dark, is so much keener than a normal human’s is.

Cameron nods. “I see the flashes, yes. But I can’t judge the range.”

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Rolled 1, 1, 8 = 10 (3d10)

>>6191856
>>
Rolled 7, 3, 3 = 13 (3d10)

>>6191856
>>
Rolled 8, 1, 7 = 16 (3d10)

>>6191856
>>
>>6191856
You raise your voice just enough to ensure that everyone nearby, including a reasonable number of the Organization’s former soldiers, can overhear.

“We need to determine where we actually are,” you declare, “then we can set a course for the nearest proper port – a little patience here at the end to avoid the swim a lot of you are no doubt contemplating.”

… that catches a few of them out.

There’s a charthouse located at the back of the bridge, which has a few sounding charts that show the coastline around where you think the cruiser has drifted to. It takes several minutes but you do eventually identify a few landmarks that let you determine your location. The nearest port that appears large enough for the cruiser to sail into it is one hour’s cruise to the west, which means you reach it around midday.

...

The sight of a warship in such a partially-dismantled state attracts no shortage of attention as the crew goes through the procedures to dock, eventually killing the engines. A darkly-blued steel cuirass lies upon your breast along with your compatriots’ – an element of what passes for a ‘dress uniform’ – and your polished crown of steel set with Hazari gems sits upon your head. The golden hilts of your heavy blades gleam under the midday sun as you disembark, and off the weapons carried by the Hazari soldiers accompanying you as a formal honor guard. Their uniforms are not flashy, colored as they are after the brackens and heathers of your homeland, but in their style and regularity convey the sense of professionalism and discipline of career soldiers.

Those who meet you are obviously civilian – despite the common cut of their coats, waistcoats, and even their hats it is clear that none of these are uniforms.


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>>6195471
You come to a stop not far from the bottom of the gangway, effectively blocking for the moment any attempts to flee from the now-docked cruiser. That also forces the group of mainlanders to finish the last steps to meet you face to face.

“That is close enough, thank you,” you declare, raising your voice slightly in the expectation that, like the invading force your homeland helped to defeat, these people will understand you.

A man in a hat, with a necktie in a crisply-woven plaid, takes an extra step forward. It’s rare that you’re reminded so starkly of how unusually tall you and your fellow warriors are, but this is one such moment. “I am Leto Aristo, mayor of Kirkines. Welcome to our city.”

An awkward pause. “Your… accent. It’s unfamiliar to me. From where do you sail?”

“I am Noel Tiberius, Queen of the realm of Hazaran on the far side of the world,” you declare, before gesturing to your compatriots. “Salem, Sabela, Serana, Vanessa, and Aurora are my kin. The men with us are Sergeant Agnew, Corporal Duncan, and riflemen Brydone, Irving, Matheson, Forbes, Kaylor, and Garvie. They are my honor guard.”

You’ve thought for several days about what you should say next.

"Please do me the courtesy of taking me to your leader.”
>tbc in the next – and final – thread

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You are Uzumaki Naori, formerly a member of the mercenary organization Akatsuki, now the ‘great Sage’ of the Hidden Rain and of the ancient Shrike clan. After turning against that organization due to a difference in moral compasses – you had one and too many of the Akatsuki did not – you faced many strong enemies in the span of one extraordinary year. That year ended with you facing the awakened Ōtsutsuki Kaguya-hime alone, a duel in which a single misstep could cost your life and quite possibly the freedom of every single living person in the world.

Now, more than a decade after the end of the old Akatsuki largely at the edge of your blade, the top-level terrorist organization of the day is Kara. Divided into the ‘Inners’ off the organization proper and the ‘Outers’ who serve as their business associates, Kara has kept a far lower profile than Akatsuki ever intended to.

Your daughter Makoto has long been helping your village as it’s spearheaded the effort to deal with the Outers, dragging them out into the light for judgment, while your son Shiki almost seems like your favorite kind of ‘lucky idiot’. He played an outsized role in the defeat and capture of an Inner, the foul-tempered artificial woman named Delta, as well as securing the peaceful surrender of a former Inner going by the name Ōga. You should probably be teasing him more about the fact that he’s somehow managed to weasel his way into the good graces of the only two female members of Kara that you know of, but there will be plenty of time for that later. After all, it’s more important in your mind to finish cleaning up after your own generation’s messes while you’re still in your prime.

“Are there any other targets?” you press.

Kashin Koji, an enhanced clone of the legendary toad-sage Jiraiya, is apparently part of some kind of internal schism within the organization and therefore represents your best avenue for advancing against them. After besting him in a fight, he event seems to be cooperative.

“There are plenty of people who have been given advanced prosthetics,” Koji tells you. “If you wanted to go for some kind of ‘clean sweep’ you could target them. But aside from that… there are two. I’m not certain about them however.”

“Why not?” Fū asks.

“Because they were meant to be ‘decomissioned’ by Boro some time ago,” Koji clarifies with a slight frown. “I know I always suspected he could not do so the way Jigen intended.”

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Rolled 3 (1d6)

>>6191857
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>>6191857
“So yeah, from what I can tell you’re here because you and your brother are a threat to the rest of Kara?” you reason.

Eida shakes her head. “Not to Jigen, no.”

“I assumed,” you clarify. “Who else?”

“Boro of course,” she answers, “but really, it was everyone else.”

“Everyone?” Koji repeats with a frown.

“Yes,” Eida asserts. “That does include Kodo.”

“I was under the impression that his white kama would prevent that?”


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>>6193467
>I’m about to make it your business. Whatever this nonsense power of yours is, it’s a potential asset to me in eliminating Kara. I’m sure we can come to an agreement.
>>
>>6193467
>>Well, I was just thinking that with your… let’s say ‘hypnotic’ abilities… you should be able to do whatever you want. Instead you’re here. There’s a reason, right?
>>
>>6193467
>>Well, I was just thinking that with your… let’s say ‘hypnotic’ abilities… you should be able to do whatever you want. Instead you’re here. There’s a reason, right?

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After years spent braving dark dungeons, traversing treacherous wilderness, and uncovering ancient mysteries, you’ve decided it’s time to lay down your sword, hang up your cloak, and leave the life of constant danger and adventure behind. The allure of gold, glory, and thrilling discoveries no longer calls to you as it once did. Instead, a new dream has taken root in your heart—a dream of stability, solitude, and the opportunity to finally focus on the passions you’ve long deferred in favor of survival.

You’ve begun to search for the perfect place to build a tower that will serve as both your sanctuary and your workshop. No longer will you be interrupted by roving bandits or called upon to fight the battles of kings. Here, in this haven of your own creation, you’ll have the peace and quiet needed to conduct experiments, study ancient texts, and perhaps even craft marvels of magic or technology that will one day leave their mark on the world. The dream of settling down doesn’t mean abandoning your adventurous spirit entirely—it simply means channeling it into a new form, one defined by discovery and creation rather than combat and peril.

But finding the right location for your tower is no simple task. It must be isolated enough to grant you the tranquility you crave yet close enough to civilization to ensure access to supplies, apprentices, or the occasional visitor curious about the wisdom of a retired adventurer. It might stand atop a windswept cliff overlooking the sea, a testament to your resilience, or rise proudly from a dense forest where the whispers of nature will accompany your work. Perhaps you’ll claim a piece of history, building upon the ruins of an ancient keep, imbuing the stones with the knowledge and magic of a new age.

Whatever you choose, this will be more than just a home—it will be a monument to your legacy, a place where the next chapter of your life begins. For though your adventuring days may be behind you, your greatest achievements may still lie ahead.

===

Select a Biome, a Population level and a Danger level.

Biomes:
> Mountain
> Forest

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>>6175056

Support, maybe she’s got some good ideas about how to proceed.

Also, we’ve mostly been fucking up this whole quest, lol, maybe we should take a backseat on this one…
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>>6175056
Let's do that.
>>
Alright I had an idea based on an horrible pun
Can we
>Research about the legend of Titanus, a mighty toxin found in rusted swords said to cripple heavily Jottuns,
>>
Knew this was inevitable. He either got bored of spamming ChatGPT questing or the AI model he was making got enough testing.
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>>6177786
yeah idk some parts of the quest i really liked but specially last half or so was quite bad. i don't know if chatgpt but one issue was extremely simplistic writing

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In the parched, rocky desert, where dry winds blow dust from one hill to another, there was a gnoll.

You, the gnoll, were a slave. You scarcely remembered the time when you weren't. A trial of power lost and your fate sealed by the leader of the pack was everything you could gather from your early years. You were weak then.

Years of labour in the copper mines and oasis farms made you strong. Those that couldn't become strong didn't survive here.

In your time at this and several other work camps, you learned some things from fellow gnolls that could be useful in later life... (pick up to 2 skills or none at all)
>You were not allowed a weapon, but you learned from a disgraced martial artist the traditional gnoll ways of combat. (You learned barehanded close quarters combat used against both armed and unarmed enemies)
>You learned from a priest, branded and enslaved for malicious magic, the heresy of Razzalbewz - the worship of demons and the basic seals that grant its warriors their strength. It has been spreading in the past decades among the gnolls, but the old faith remains strong. (You learned seals - signs associated with demonic lords that, when worn with a cloth, cut or otherwise born on the body, grant supernatural powers. It is, however, a dangerous craft, working with powers many civilizations consider evil...)
>You learned the craft of storytelling and bargaining from a traveller that visited even human lands, enslaved upon returning to his homeland for betrayal of the pack. You enhanced this ability by trading stories with other gnolls. (You will be a decent talker, capable of negotiating even with men that would otherwise kill you.)
>Write-in?

Through luck and perseverance, you lived to escape enslavement. The rebellion was quick and brutal. Seizure of ill-protected blades from guards, deep in the night. Murder of the slavers. Looting of the camp. Then, freedom. The gnoll slaves scattering, like desert winds.

What did you loot, if anything, from the guards? (as previously, pick up to 2)

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Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>6178080
>>6178522
Rolling and writing the final update of the quest.
1 - eastern empires
2 - western kingdoms
>>
The western kingdoms have been hearing news from the desert. Of a horde of gnolls and demons, led by an insane sorcerer-king, killing or enslaving everyone in their way. Bringing ruin.

Yet they were still unprepared.

You bring destruction and defilement to their lands, and grief to their people. The demons rampage through the countryside, and cities fall one by one to your army, a small one, but victorious through infernal rage and hellish magic.

You leave before the knights' army can come to end your rampage, taking with you many magical foci, scrolls detailing ways of casting spells, artifacts simple and sophisticated. There is, however, no time to study them. You're running out of time.

The summoning site is prepared in a matter of weeks. Many magical artifacts are disassembled or repurposed to direct the ambient magic into the centre of the arcane circle which will serve as a portal for your would-be master to come through.

Two hundred gnoll shamans unite in chants and direct their energy into the sigils and seals. With your contribution being the central piece, the portal opens. A few seconds later, the giant, horned form of Carad, Holder of Knowledge, passes through. It is only fair that you open the gates to one with whose help you claimed your magical prowess. Even if you will end up fighting...

"You have done well, disciple. You have my thanks - a rare gift." he utters, his voice ethereal and deep.

"Save them, Holder of Knowledge." you say. "For our meeting will end in conflict."

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You find your tongue paralyzed and your mind barren. The accursed voices are silent at last, leaving a clarity of thought, but along with them, your conscience has been purged of magical knowledge. The best you can do is a spell of magic missiles - the most basic form of magic, engraved into your subconscious as if into muscle memory.

"Did you truly think the 'Holder of Knowledge' could not manipulate minds of those in his domain?"

"If not me, then the shamans and Dragon Gnolls..." you say, but interrupt yourself. You look around.

The entire army - your army - is bowing down to the Demon Lord. There are some corpses. Your closest companions, shamans and advisers, pierced by the spears of their brethren. You smirk for a second. At least you were not alone.

"Perhaps they were more loyal to true gods that granted them their blessing rather than some upstart hoping to outwit the divine."

"You are no god."

"I will become equal to them. And what did you hope for when you performed the ritual?"

"The books guided me." you say defiantly. "They told me of ways to subdue you."

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"That's where he is!" one of the youths says, approaching the riverside from the woods. "Look at him! Those strange shackles I was talking about, the gouged out eye!"

"He smells dead, Huoli."

"No, no, he is alive, I just didn't dare approach when he was growling."

You open your only bloodshot eye to look at your companions.

"He's watching us."

"We better kill him or leave him to die. You know gnolls are evil raiders. They even started worshipping demons a decade ago!"

You growl and stand up with no small amount of effort, towering over the two humans. They seem paralyzed with fear. Looking them over, you say:

"Take me to your village. I need speak to elder."

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Ok, I put you on the rails for this update, but I think the quest was moderately good and I am mostly content with it. If you want to offer any criticism/thoughts you're welcome to share them. If you want to read more of my quests (albeit quite different in theme, tone and format), I invite you to read Monster Reincarnation in late January. Thanks for playing, and let us meet again in other quests.

Another night, another job, another chance to shine. This place is all winding roads and twisting warrens, commercial exchange, commerce, creativity and a smidge of commotion. The implants are struggling to keep up - layered advertising spam in neon-colours flaking away into glitching rainbows at the corner of your eyes. Certain sense of festivities around here. Voices raised in shouts and song and praise and everyone - everyone! - will try to peddle you a barter with the soft assurance you are definitively the very best of their many friends and deserves such splendid offerings. Special price. Just for you. Tonight might not be as dangerous as some jobs, but the threat to your wallet is definitively real...
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>>6170817
You can keep things, yes, Agent, but if you drive through a Metroplex sweep zone with your pockets full of barely legal nerve stimulants, unlicensed revolvers last used as actual suicide weapons and other assorted sundries, we'll have to break you out of jail.

Just... Put it in your locker or something. Do we need to go cabinet shopping? Don't you have a shelf at home, Agent? They're not that expensive. I get the instructions can be a bit convoluted but I think you can put up a shelf or assemble a cabinet. We can do that together, I'll lend you a hand (teeeheee).

--

>>6170796
>>6170802
Indeed we are, yet hopefully as you are marked out as security contractors or complete benign, happy visitors or local temp-staff, said-same shotguns will pose less of a problem. And I did pre-load them with deterrent rounds on the presumption that if some gangster draws a knife and goes for a cut, knocking the wind out of him and sending him sprawling to the floor is significantly better than other alternatives.

We'll be fiineee, Agent.

Unfortunately I don't know any handy anti-air equipment that dissuades military fast intercept dropships. They're sorta meant to be proof against most of the stuff we can readily source. But we might be able to get something? We'll see what we can do. Might have a few alternative options. Otherwise I mostly recommend not picking fights with armored air assault troop transports. They tend to win. There's this motto I was taught in my military days: If they have a flyer, you'll be the die-er. Soooo let's avoid testing that.


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>>6170869
Have we considered a long range guided launcher for the foam balls to clog the rotors? They seemed effective when Agent Ink used one off her glider. We could list them under 'fire suppression'.
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>>6170898
I was thinking something just like that, in fact! By filling about thirty water-balloons with expanding riot foam and getting clever with the pneumatics of a launch-type air-barrel derived system, it might actually be possible to get some kind of deterrent. They do it during riots, I don't see why we couldn't do it. In fact, we might even be able to ping the Rootpiercers and ask if they have any schematics lying around.

It obviously won't stop full deployment of VTOL systems because there are counter-measures, but it will certainly assist. With a bit of work, we could probably mount it on a car. Best part is unlike carrying a rocket guided artillery system, you don't get arrested on suspecion of being suspecious when you drive downtown.

Good thinking, TS.
Well, okay, so your ID is-- listen we-- no, no, I get it. Good opsec. I got a t-shirt delivered to an unlisted address today. We should all take our security more seriously.

--

>>6170869
Right, let's see... Hm. I think if we pre-load a few rapid exchange belts for the shotguns, and shave off some of the internal ruggedness and exchange the barrels for shorter versions you'll find they work better in closer quarters. Dragon put that down. What'd you even do it ? Why would you do that ? Well, fine, but just don't hold it sideways, it doesn't make you cool.

Running some tactical network integrations on the on-board C7 systems we can derive a friend-or-foe system, avoids tagging allies a little more, work up some better targetting code that filters out the background noise of an urban environment. And I DID find some smoke grenades. Turns out Agent Meriesweather hasn't turned all our chem-grenades into paint-bombs.


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>>6170145
Snazzy. This is actually the calling-card for a bespoke level service that actively cleans your social media presence, derives filters to auto-sort you out of passive background survaillance and blurs your face in the ever-lasting stream of people's posts about family outings. Also automatically unsubscribes you from MePipe feeds, though I think you have to pay for the premium version to watch Argentianian content on FlixNet...

Functionally, Agent Vennsfield, it gives you an always on low level AR mask that quite a lot of passive systems won't overcome - remembering here that "masks" are sensor-thresholds that require beating by Sensors or lockons or such-like to 'acquire' you properly.

>#Mask 1 [DFM]

>>6170211
Oh, the DCIM Course? Actually really snazzy! It's run by this old Biochemical Deployment Operator out of town, which you wouldn't think a course in advanced impersonation technique would be, but as it turns out he was subject to aggressive chemovore attack and had to re-train and re-task his empathy from the ground up. Try not to develop rapid onset multiple personality disorder, alright, agent Graphite? His instructions are pretty good but if you get too into the management of masks (Social, not virtual) you end up forgetting where your face starts and where the social mask ends!

>#Believable 1 [DCIM]

>>6170638
Oh, the ResPets! Wait, weren't these-- Agent, these synth-lifeforms were all recalled. How'd you even find this listing? They're artificially grown organism with a shockpace resonator breach induction module (like the ones Agent Graphite is using) wired directly into their nervous system. It's like a ... cat with six legs that can sneeze telekinetically, except I think this one adjusts probabiltiy foldspace around itself and in a certain literalist sense actually eats bad luck. It's pretty fascinating.


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>>6170987
Ahem, Agents. Party-Prep, no?
--

I guess I can use this datalog to do some basic house-keeing...

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>>6166806
Its shimmering white scales are another prize. The trolls struggle to remove the tougher pieces, but with patience and teamwork, they succeed. The scales are dense yet pliable, perfect for crafting armor. However, the sheer size of troll armor means you can only create two full sets from the dragon’s hide. The goblins, on the other hand, with their diminutive size, could fashion dozens of suits, giving them a much-needed edge in battle.

As you oversee the work, the possibilities begin to form in your mind. You could create troll armor to bolster your strongest warriors, including yourself, making them nearly invincible. Or you could outfit the goblins, turning them into a formidable force of nimble, armored archers and saboteurs. Or perhaps a mix of both—a set for yourself and goblin suits to ensure your smaller allies are equally protected.

The dragon’s remains offer unmatched potential to strengthen your tribe, but the choice of how to use them could shape your future battles.

### What will you do?

> Make troll armor: Create two massive sets of armor to outfit your strongest trolls, including yourself, ensuring they can withstand future battles.
> Make goblin armor: Use the dragon’s scales to craft dozens of tiny suits, giving your goblin allies the protection they need to wreak havoc.
> Make one troll armor for yourself and the rest goblin armor: Strike a balance—fortify your strength with a set of troll armor while ensuring your goblins are also well-equipped.
> Write in
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>>6166807
> Make one troll armor for yourself and the rest goblin armor: Strike a balance—fortify your strength with a set of troll armor while ensuring your goblins are also well-equipped.
>>
>>6166807
>> Make one troll armor for yourself and the rest goblin armor: Strike a balance—fortify your strength with a set of troll armor while ensuring your goblins are also well-equipped.
>>
>>6166809
>>6166829


After much deliberation, you decide to forge a set of armor for yourself from the dragon's prized scales. The trolls, with their great strength and crude tools, work tirelessly under your direction, hammering the scales into plates that fit your massive frame. The result is a suit of shimmering white armor, each piece gleaming like frost under the sun. Wearing it, you feel nearly invincible, as though the dragon’s power still courses through you, shielding you from harm. The weight of the armor is substantial, but it feels like an extension of your own strength, a tangible reminder of the beast you conquered.

With the remaining scales, the goblins set to work. Under the guidance of their alchemist leader, Bugaloo, they craft dozens of small, intricate pieces of armor, perfectly suited for their diminutive forms. The goblins squeal with glee as they don their new protection, prancing about like armored rats. The sight is almost comical, but you can see the practicality in their new gear. Armed with their bows and freezing potions, the goblins now look like a disciplined, if eccentric, strike force.

Your tribe stands stronger than ever, the trolls bolstered by your commanding presence and the goblins transformed into a deadly swarm. Around the campfire that night, the air buzzes with anticipation and possibility. Your people are invigorated by recent victories and the power you have brought to the tribe.

But now, the question looms—what next? Your strength is unparalleled, your people united, and your enemies within reach. The time may be ripe to expand your territory or seek alliances to further cement your power.

What will you do next?

> Attack one of your neighbors: The time for conquest has come. Choose a target and lead your tribe into battle.

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>>6166891
>> Engage in diplomacy: Strength can open doors as well as break them. Reach out to a neighbor to forge an alliance or gain their aid.

Let's propose an alliance to the hags, and together let's raid the wizard's tower. Lets get artifacts, books and whatever they have. Then we'll deal with the humans and elves.

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, done mercenary work in Phoenix, and has violently seized a small town in battle.

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, be it expanding infrastructure with funds from a pyrrhic victory (a reminder of your faction's current insignificance to Phoenix) or population growth that's stretching housing and other resources thin. Even the recent victory over and unexpected military seizure of Sacaton threatens to rouse the POZ's overwhelming might if the aftermath is not handled carefully...

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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>>6190693
>curious how the Electric Union Secret Alliance is gonna work mechanically
The mechanics always come down to good choices and good dice rolls! Jokes aside, as the Electric Union mentioned it'll be about convincing others to join in the fight and building up enough of a force to take out the Protectorate. What "enough of a force" looks like and how "take out the Protectorate" would work exactly is up to your choices bound by constraints of who you can get and what you can do.

>>6190778
>are you still using proxy posters for new threads?
Unfortunately, the method I was hoping I could use to mobilize someone for it after returning wasn't available (some sites got nuked.) So my hand was forced.

>>6190852
It is now, thank you for the reminder.
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>>6190778
I’d consider getting to Pester Juan to be more important, as it would support our action economy, but it’s not a bad play- I’m also thinking we could dedicate an action or two towards the East, maybe get Red Rock or Casa Grande on our side, or contact that military outpost, after we finish converting Maricopa.

The real coup would be selling our damn meth in Phoenix- like, it’s our main boon beside the Crusader faith, and it’s criminally underutilized. I’m hoping we can sell some to some of the Anarchist forces just to finally get some damn value from it.

>>6192538
Any ETA on the next thread?
>>
So once we've gotten the POZ to fuck off again (maybe with blue chews?) we should focus on selling them those, selling them to the Lewisians & bikers, maybe to the Red Rock Raiders too, & getting an expedition setup to either New Vegas or Al Pastor Juan's Encomienda. Although getting the military outpost to chill or maybe even help us deal with the godless communist POZ could be a boon, especially for the New Vegas trip to come to fruition. That & Jill Valentine is there. Thus I propose the following:
1. Methmaxxing
2. Juan or two expeditions, reaching out first via Toe Rogain Radio
3. Tell the army that they didn't know we were chill like that
4. Paulout: New Vegas
5. Convince POZ that the Lewisites are RAYZEST PIGUTTS!
6. Sift through the ashes with our coalition
7. ???
8. Prophet
>>
How is our oubliette coming along anyway?
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>>6194694
Don’t forget Yuri- we can have him set up spy rings in Lewis/POZ and do other shenanigans that our other cardinals may balk at.

We also need to unify Maricopa’s churches under us asap. Really, subverting Maricopa should be our primary concern besides Methmaxxing. Also maybe begin integrating communications with the MMP- we could have assisted them had we known they were in trouble, and we can use that as a basis of subverting the force, or at least making informed tactical decisions when in operation.

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Turn 14
The world of Pavilion falls under a pall. Mortal meddling strains the fabric of the world as wizards war with increasingly uncontrollable magics. To the west, a new land arises, ushering the Vizari into a harsh yet protected refuge from raiders and pillages. A presence stirs in the deep wounds they left behind, feeding on blood and souls, seeping through cracks in the firmament. The Northern nations seek glory in other lands, sending their armies outside of reality itself to fight wars in a strange new world. The Tyrns Without Summer march on all the while, food stores deplete, emergency measures turn to mitigation, and hunger yields to famine. Dark times indeed.

>We're currently full on players, though that can change with short notice. If you're interested, join our discord. The invite code is: F2Patcf.

GLOBAL DISASTER: The night sky darkens, the stars torn from their seats in the heavens and cast into the western seas. The earth itself quakes with indignation, stirring up great waves that batter the coast. The days that follow are unseasonably cool and dry. The sun is enfeebled by a dry fog that reddens and dapples its shining light. Crops fail, lakes freeze, animals starve to death for want of grazing ground.
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>>6186043
> Turn 14

> Action 1: Open Trade with the Habitun
With the promise of warmer days and trade, dwarven merchants gather in Thul-Garuhm’s courtyard, loading up caravans with casks of crimson ale, amber steel tools, and carefully quarried stone. Under the watchful gaze of Urotti guards, these goods roll out toward the Habitun’s capital, marking the official start of steady commerce between the two realms. Along the routes, traders from both sides meet at provisional waypoints, exchanging not only wares but stories—seeding the foundations of a deeper alliance.

> Action 2: Extend the Underground Road to the Habitun
Meanwhile, dwarven engineers continue chiseling the next leg of the Veins of the Stone, the ambitious underground passage linking Urotti territory to the Habitun’s domain. Master masons work by torchlight, measuring corridors with runic instruments, supporting the tunnels with carved pillars etched in ancestral wards for safety.
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>>6191702
>>6192098
Trade
>>Vitruvia
>Give: 1/2 Lapidary produce in the form of fine lenses and laboratory instruments
>Receive: 1/2 Reagent farm #1 produce in the form of tree growth potions
>>Vencia
>Give: Shadow Trade Route #1 in the form of precious stones and gems
>Receive: Iron Mine #1 produce
>>Skrit
>Give: 1/2 Cave Fish in the form of Shadow Jelly
>Receive: 1/2 Coal Mine produce
>>Urotti
>Give: 1/2 Juhrs for purposes of mining and tunneling, disseminate 10 library cards of access designation 122 to each Dverg house of note, enable merit-based admittance of Dverg to school and college
>Receive: Underground infrastructure, 1/2 Lumberyard produce, 1/2 Gneiss quarry produce

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>Actions 1 & 2: Adenic Engraved Steel
The quality of a steel is not evident to the naked eye of the layman. It matters not how tough and refined the metal is if it's inherent quality is not obvious to potential admirers. As a result, foragemasters have either become talented artists, or partnered with one. Every new sword blade, armor plate, and spearpoint is meticulously engraved with Elven iconography. A chest plate for a Leaf Captain may show their Twig and Branch flowing from the Tree of Life and across the armor, their line of course larger and longer than the rest. Accompanying the focus on flare, the quality of the metal increases as well, as the smiths are able to afford more quality materials and more numerous assistants now that buyers are willing to pay a premium for the beautiful engravings.

>War Action:
Adenai forces have sufficiently recovered at the Castra. They accompany an attack on the Dawn, though "accidentally" run into some travel delays to make the other forces take the brunt of the assault, so Adenic forces can clean up the mess and reap the credit.
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The war in the north is going confusing. it feels like they're wasting our time first months of walking and now we're supposed to just camp out and wait!? Well, the longer the Krovian and Krawl armies are north the longer they're not invading our nation.

>Action 1: Scout for resources
Who knows maybe we'll find something interesting?

>Action 2: A wall is a useful tool.

Built a wall at our Domo border specifically the furthest east point where we eventually expect Krawl or krovian expansion to reach, if the krovians/Krawl complain we'll say it's to protect from Domo and if Domo complain we'll say it's to protect from the Krawl and Krovians

Our soldiers are spending years at this point staring at Barza castles they may as well do something useful with their time and copy the design.

An important part of the design will be a Boar pen inside the walls to minimise damage done from artillery type spells. Worst case they're emergency food rations
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>>6186043
The objective of these actions is to cover all Our bases, in addressing the ant invasion, and waiting out the wargame. Outside war, we’re focusing on feeding Our vast population and establishing the rest of the high krawl.

>1: Design new high krawl
Once more, Maja returns to the hive’s refinery with new materials and malicious intent.

She determines the shape and assembles the composition of her first servant wench. By that, she means diligent scholar.

Rivaruo, the clairvoyant of great perception, researches the pathway of Our consciousness through her many all-seeing eyes, attunement to the morphic resonance of the universe, and lifelong devotion to catalogue and study of life, matter, or otherwise therein. She will assist heavily in opening the gateway in meeting Our planar mother in kind, Darkroe.

(The pic of Riva is a wip. Finished pic following soon!)


>2: Chemosynthesis (prospect for thermal vents on any ridge running under the sea)
Collect toxins and feed on them slowly, contained and preserved within the forms of the submerged Trilogowl, as they are no-longer needed at the front of war. Where? The ocean ridge, of course, along the aquatic thermal vents. Given their vast experience with molten lava, the chemicals and temperatures from within the vents should not be any trouble for their massive, otherwise empty forms.

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You sit across from the leader of the magical girls Bryta Durwitz. 24 years old. Eyes sparkle like snowflakes. You can't believe that this beautiful woman. A local celebrity basically wanted to be with someone like you. Just an average guy working as a janitor. She and her friends attend Snowfield University, a massive, towering facility with pearlesant gates where all the magical girls in the city attend. You're starstruck, finding it hard to even form words as she sits across from you outside at the cafe table. Come on, surely you can manage something. You weakly choke out,

"I-it was a surprise, when I saw you save that guy... F-from the monster, when... When we met. I can't believe, the real Winter Gleam is really sitting here with someone like me..."

She twirls her finger lightly conjuring a magical vanilla ice cream cone, floating it towards you. You awkwardly catch it giving it a clumsy lick. Its... Delicious... So rich and pure... Shes smiling cutely at you.

"Hehe, you look like you're enjoying it. I wanted... To find someone who didn't have any abilities. Its hard, to find people to connect with, that aren't at my school that don't already know me. I guess I figured, why not take a chance with someone new?"

Clearly the whole city knows of her at least somewhat. But at least that makes sense. Still, theres gotta be something you can say or do that won't fuck this up for you...

------------
A) Whats it like, being a magical girl? Is it fun? Do you have any favorite spots to go monster hunting with your friends?

B) Whats your home life like? Do you have any family? I bet you life in a big fancy schmancy place huh?


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Made good progress. Will continue to keep writing more until I can make a long update like before. I'm starting to realize it may be better to either do smaller updates, or make gradual adjustments to when these things happen. I can't thank you all enough for your patience.
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>>6185546
no problems OP. thanks for updating us on your situation.
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>>6185546
Don't beat yourself up about it, OP, and don't force yourself. Sometimes the inspiration doesn't come as easily as we'd like it.

Be safe and have a good one.
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>>6185546
The Tenders have grown cold, maybe it'll be archived
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>>6184338
>>6195003
Archived https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Tenders%20QM

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Achieving overbind is not the easiest thing.
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“I always wondered how’d they deal with the mosquitoes.” The day-long quest is paused with a revisit to the pier’s porridgehouse. Well, a revisit for Airin and I, that is.

“They-”
“Uh. Well. I don’t believe they do. I don’t recall them burning - any - citrus or their oils yesterday.” Airin examines a cube of onions-sauce braised pork belly as she makes talk.

(The chopsticks here aren’t even tapered either…)

“Niggards.*stingy people” He moans.
“Often is the case for this sort of eating place.” She doesn’t.

“How - did - you eat here unmolested, then?” Aeg rests his chopsticks on the bowl to crack his fingers.

“Well. I’m small.” Airin adjusts her posture on the stool whose height, were she to stand upright, rivals hers.

“And I don’t sweat. Apparently.” The claim makes her snort and laugh.

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With the hearty dinner concluded, we returned to the upper roads of Oceankeep - the which, I have become more intimate with, due to recent matters.

Amournnara was still at the hospital. The peace officers said her wounds weren’t grave, but recovery was said to take some more hours. Mayhaps even taking a night. But I doubt such a course would be followed by her. No, her character is anything -but- that.

“That’s the one.”
“Hm.”
“Right. I ought to.”

Even with the list, we almost missed the residence; the small frontage and meager lamps makes finding it amidst a sea of chatter-filled and populated shops. Aeg knocked.

“Good day. Ma’am. Child.”
“There’s a matter we need to discuss with mister Wittiya. It pertains to a colleague of his, Galpet, and the articles we believe he has sold.”

Greeting us were a large woman and a child nearing fourteen, or fifteen years of age; their pale smocks stained with dots and streaks of yellow and orange; and their ankle-length skirts checkered with green and red, whose brilliance has since faded a long, long time ago.


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“Oh. Y- yea. I- I think I get the picture.” Wittiya straightway fetched the belongings once Aeg made mention of it; returning with an untouched broadside of the idol, but a plain, wide-brimmed hat — he explained the bundled roses were given away to a monastery’s statue as part of a prayer for success in his musical studies.

“You needn’t worry. I’ll get ‘nother one.” After a day of dealing with a faggot and an equally bothersome man, Aeg breaths a sigh of relief. Wittiya remains nervy, though, even when assured of no legal action looming over him or his folk; wiping his sweaty fingers on his smock and fidgeting with his nails.

“If- If I may?”
“Yes?”

“Pet’s- he’s not in a difficulty, is he?” And the dreaded question was occasioned. I dared not to droop my head nor sigh, but it nevertheless gives me pause. “The- these accounts said those folks aren’t very nice.”

A part of me wishes to say his deviation from the path of rectitude was of his own choosing, not the evil company he is surrounded- no, the evil company he surrounds himself with. The evil company that drew against him when he proved less greedy than them. And Galpet Amournnara saw him as nothing more than a pig whose sole use is to be bled dry and left to rot. And consequent to such a course, his sole friend’s arm being torn open by fireworks and his hip nicked by sickles, and his mother some inches away from being killed.

But does he - need - to hear it? We already the end of our roadway, unmolested, and got (most of) Aeg’s belongings back. We could bow out. Immediately. Bow out and give not a single glance back - with those kids already in the peace officers’ sights, we needn’t do much excepting pointing them to that teahouse.

“Well.” Airin glances at me as she lightly exhales. “I cannot say. We do not know where he is. Nor his company.”


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“Bridle?” The kid tilts his head.

“It’s a cage for the mouth of someone quarrelsome!” Aeg perks up at the mention of the scold’s bridle. “The construction is quite interesting. So, the mouthpiece is made from a flat dish and spikes, but actually…”

Somehow, the conversation became more cheerful with the addition of metal contraptions made to inflict suffering and humiliation.

“Thumb-screws aren’t- well, they’re not used for torture or anything of such caliber, rather, to bind and restrain a person before we put them in a jail.”

… eventually, enough minutes passed us by. A shame. We never got to talk of test-cutting.

(Cutting a corpse in half - takes - the effort.)

We thank them for their time and bow out. After Aeg and I retrieve our weapons from the entran-

“Mister Aeggorn. Mister Kommgal?”

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>>6196951
>He’s not.


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