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Previous chapters: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Heretic%20Cultivator%20Quest
MC info Pastebin: https://pastebin.com/x5rCdZpq
Sect/ disciple info Doc: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1A0Yghkqs4WxALnnlVJ2uPpphQk9NQ4ME32DzC1qWp7Q/edit?usp=sharing
Folklore: https://pastebin.com/AnbsrDcd
_

Specter Starvation (幽灵饥饿, Yōulíngjī'è), a curse considered in this modern era to be without a cure, a death sentence either through the afflicted wasting away to spiritual starvation or being hunted down once they are consumed by their unnatural hungers. A curse so terrible the mere whispers of it are enough to scare most of the cultivation world from pursuing ghostly dao or cultivating and refining deathly or ghostly yin Qi. But you aren't like most other Daoists, you are the great and more often than not magnanimous Huanliuxue (欢流血, Happy Bloodshed/ Happy to Shed Blood), the founder of both the heretical and ghost aligned Ruler of the Great Wheel's Law(统治者的这重大轮回法律, Tǒngzhìzhědīzhèzhòngdàlúnhuífǎl) and the heretical but noble sect of beasts, outcasts and oddballs, The Palace of Natural laws sect palace of natural laws sect (宫殿的野生彝宪, Gōngdiàndīyěshēngyíxiàn). And this curse will not be your end or downfall. For you know the medicine and treatment that was forgotten ages ago.

All that must be done to cure one's self of the ghastly desires and gnawing hunger that afflicts that most debased and feral of hungry ghosts and wild Jiangshi, is to devour the lifeforce of dragon or something of equally profound spiritual energy or possessing Qi or vitality as refined and powerful as their own. And while you are certain, if given enough time, you could find an alternative means of curing yourself, especially with the assistance of the ghostly calamity who infected you with the accursed and gross hunger for life-energy and souls that you've so far been able to resist and ignore, Aodasheng (Proud Great Sage, 傲大圣) who has so far proven not only loyal to and capable of fulfilling his promise to act as and be your subordinate, but is also a learned scholar of most of what is forbidden in this world beneath the unjust heavens.

However, you nearly fainted from hunger and feel your marvelously trained and sculpted body beginning to weaken as starvation begins to sap away your strength and fog your usually peerlessly sharp and sagacious mind, hazing and messing up your ideas and thoughts. So there isn't an excess of time for you to search for an alternative medicine or risk going rabid with hunger, especially since you were just about to declare your tournament open and started when you shamefully collapsed out of hunger in front of an elder demon hunter and the head of another sect!

And to avoid embarrassing yourself like that again, since it is utterly unthinkable you could share the pitiful fate the others who've fallen victim to Specter Starvation, that you've traveled to the Summer Sea at the south of the Chuan Kingdom.
Cont

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You are Uzumaki Shiki, currently posing as ‘Kagerō’ – a first-year student at the Konohagakure Academy. The goal of this undercover ploy is to serve as a bodyguard to Yukiwari Kae, the young princess of a small kingdom allied with both Konoha and your own homeland of Amegakure, while she’s here being kept out of an internal power struggle at home. It was you and your team’s role to observe Kae-hime, to provide security, and to root out any hypothetical assassins who might be sent after her and deal with them.

While it’s been a little bit amusing being back at the Academy after having been promoted all the way up to jōnin over the last two years, there have also been some problems. Your identity was already blown when your cousin Himawari started to figure out who you were despite having changed your face, frame, and most importantly your hair color to try and avoid being recognized, so you let her in on your secret. A few other students seem to suspect that you’re more than you appear to be as well, though most are simply annoyed by your popularity, or by your ‘talent’ as a shinobi, or by some combination of the two.

More troubling however is that the ‘hypothetical’ assassin you were embedded into Kae-hime and Hima-chan’s class to deal with may not be so hypothetical after all. You were followed most of the way to ‘your’ apartment (as Kagerō) a few days ago by someone with self-evident bloodlust – as well as the skills to evade your teammates and back off without being seen.

…

“Hey, sensei,” you begin, having waited until after class when all the other students have already left. Hana-sensei, perhaps sensing your intent, also stayed behind. “Do you have a moment?”

She nods once, “Of course, Kagerō-kun. What do you need?”

You close the door, and lock it from inside, before approaching your ‘teacher’ at her desk. “I have to explain something to you – something you have to swear will not leave this room.”

“I promise,” Hana-sensei replies, watching you somewhat nervously. “This… sounds kind of serious.”

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You have slain the old tyrant, Suial the Third, and claimed his throne, his kingdom, and his women. After personally executing those who dared to challenge your rule in a grand spectacle the gladiatorial arena—your name chanted by your subjects and proclaimed by priests as the chosen of the divines—you decide to celebrate your victories in the harem.
Choosing Queen Jocasta, the widow and only legal wife of the old man you killed, you summon her to your bed with the hope of fathering an heir for the throne. The queen is nearly forty, perhaps beyond her prime childbearing years, but you are young and robust, only half her age, and confident in your virility.
Throughout the night, you ensure Jocasta's moans and screams are loud enough for the guards outside to overhear, the message clear: the old tyrant's wife now belongs to you. After several passionate sessions in positions deemed most favorable for conception, you and the aging queen find yourselves entwined in the quiet aftermath, catching your breath and beginning to converse.
"I gave birth once," she reveals softly, her voice carrying a mixture of sorrow and nostalgia. "About twenty years ago. A boy. He was taken from me just after being born. I have often prayed that he would one day return to me."

> You express your condolences, "I'm deeply sorry for your loss, my queen. I pray that wherever your son is, he is at peace."
> You express your fury at the old tyrant's cruelty, who buried his newborn sons alive because he feared the prophecy that one of his sons would murder him and usurp his throne, "May Suial endure suffer torment in the fires of Tartarus for eternity."
> You gently caress the queen's pale belly, which you have spent the night filling with your fertile seed, hopeful of potential new life, "Perhaps the gods will answer your prayers and bring your son back to you in some way."
> You find yourself wondering if Suial's firstborn son and only legal heir may have survived, though it was unlikely that a newborn could survive being buried alive, "Did you witness what happened to your son? Is there any chance he could have survived?"
> You quietly feel relief, considering the depravities of Suial's lineage, It's a mercy, really. Suial was a tyrant, and a son born from his seed might have been just as cruel. It's better for the kingdom to be rid of that bloodline, ensuring there's no rightful challenge to your throne.

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You are the son of a powerful mafia boss who rules the criminal underworld of the city with an iron grip.

>You are the eldest, the presumed successor, known for your fiery temper and a reputation for ruthlessness.

>You are the second son, the overlooked playboy, usually dismissed as weak and indecisive.

>You are the youngest, a decorated war veteran, who attempted to leave the family business.

>Other

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The Nation of Ferrovia has fractured with the death of king Harold with three successor states and a bandit kingdom now fighting over the nation's future. King Elric, the king's brother backed by the landed nobility of the country, wages war in hopes of holding up the monarchy and by connection with the landed gentry. As he styles himself now Lord protector Baric attempts to halt the Monarchists and reformists from harming the status quo with the backing of the army his force is small but well trained and armed. The last of the main contenders is Queen Meredith the sole child of King Harold and devout reformist backed by merchants democrats and communists alike she must lead this dispraite force to victory.
You are Sir Edmund ”The Crow” Drayton, a recently Knighted Yeoman, the leader of the small monarchist sub faction of the reformists. The last few months have seen you push the southern front of the junta forces hard. They have put up stiff resistance with the capture of the ferrovian military academy and the destruction of a motorized division being your reward for your efforts.

Past threads: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=BrinkQM

The men are ready the next day after defeating the motorized division to keep heading north pushing through desolate territory. The ferrovian countryside is ravaged by the war small villages that used to be the life blood of the rural areas in the north are all but gone The railroads which once moved ore and grain to the industrial cities lay destroyed heaps of burned railroad ties and the tracks themselves having been thrown onto the fire to make them useless. The enemy is going full scorched earth where they can. Your pushes are often slowed by nearly every bridge over even the smallest creek having been destroyed.

3d100 best of three please

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Hey, you. You're finally awake.
You were trying to cross the border, right?
Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there.
>How did you get here?
>>A victim of truck-kun.
>>A victim of a school shooting.
>>Brutally beaten to death by Todd Howard after calling Skyrim mid.
>> _

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"Minor fucking mistake!" you mutter under your breath, your voice dripping with anger. You are Dr. Disrespect, the greatest and most popular streamer in the world, or at least you were.

The cancelation came swiftly. The woke mob, with their keyboards wielded like pitchforks, decided that a few minor fucking mistakes were enough to bring you down. But you, Dr. Disrespect, are not one to be easily defeated.

"Time to take back what's mine," you growl, cracking your knuckles. You didn't build a fucking empire on charisma and mustache wax just to watch it crumble at the hands of a few overly sensitive woke liberals.

> (1) Send anonymous hate mail to your accuser.
> (2) Sabotage Twitch headquarters with a barrage of glitter bombs.
> (3) Keep streaming and subtly mock the controversy in every broadcast.
> (4) Emigrate to Israel, the tribesmen will treat you with the respect you deserve.
> (5) Move underground start a new streaming platform, "DocTube."
> (6) Launch a line of "Canceled but Not Defeated" merchandise.
> (7) Organize a "Redemption Tour" with live streaming events across the country.
> (8) Custom Option

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You are Noel Tiberius di Hazaran, and at this moment your objective is to root out a small force that has fortified a low hilltop deep within occupied Sakian territory. When you’ve done that, a group of rebels who have turned on your enemy from the distant Continent – but who aren’t quite what you’d call ‘reliable allies’ – will be able to take up residence here, fortify the position, and use it as a logistical strong point to support their growing operations in Sakia. Your hope is that the invading army, after having found its high water mark in trying and failing to cross the mountains to the south and assault your homeland in Hazaran, will start to eat itself from the inside and make it possible to start actually liberating Sakia.

With you now are Aurora, Valentina, and Serana – all accomplished warriors in their own right, two of which are able to partially awaken to enhance their abilities beyond even the monstrous ‘average’ set by your Silver-Eyed cohort. The fact that you can’t simply kill all of these people is something of a complicating factor, but it’s a standard of behavior you and your kind accepted and now maintain willingly.

You can definitely handle this situation, between your inhuman speed and regenerative abilities. But any offensive type warriors may be vulnerable to those cannon shells, or to bullet wounds to the head, since their regenerative abilities aren’t as strong.

That’s why you decide to wait until you have the cover of darkness to make your move, and bide your time by observing your enemy and discussing strategy among your assembled cohort.

“There are areas where their artillery can overlap,” Valentina observes, “but also some arcs where the carriers are in each other’s way.”

“And isn’t there a limit to how low their guns can angle?” Aurora asks.

You nod once – you remember that being the case. “Yes but the hill’s slope is pretty gentle, so that may not help.”

[There is not much cover,] Serana adds her own observation. [We should move quickly once we start to advance.]

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ITQ you will buy and sell goods, find a place to live, basic Jobs, and things to do to live through a zombie apocalypse. Zombies are slow. Plenty of things can maim or kill you. Zombie bites can be treated, but there are side effects, or you may screw it up and die. So let's avoid that, ok?
You stand in line among several other people, anonymous faces, you didn't count them. You've not seen them before. Some in shoes, some barefoot, one with a blood stained spear, and all of you hot and dirty from the June heat. You're on the outskirts of Houston in the shell of what was an old big box store, and the proprietor has a fan blowing across the line of you, and he has been good enough to put up a pop-up tent ourside the entrance to shield everyone from the sunlight, but it must be 94 degrees with all of you crowded together and waiting. On either side of the Line, are cages full of dead eyed ghouls, locked in for now, but watching you.
The Merchant calls out Next and you step up with your goods. You walk up to a bullet proof Plexiglass window with a pass through container, and big sign over the glass stating:
>Jews created the outbreak on borrowed money, No Credit
You are yourself, just yourself. Your actions are your own choice, but the outcome is determined by post ID roll.
Roll for your saleable goods layout by final digit.
Subsequent rerolls to determine simple value, 2nd to last digit = quantity, final digit of simple pass fail 1-5 poor, 6-0 good
1-backpack of junk, can be sorted for valuables
2-live wild animal, must be examined to determine value
3-Clothing, must be checked for damage
4-Food, may be packaged or raw
5-Contraban: cigarettes, alchohol, pornography, drugs
6-Weapons: may be functional, broken parts
7-Ammunition: may be boxed or loose, good or bad
8-Medicine: may be prescription or over the counter

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You are Jack "Whisper" Malone, a name that sends shivers down the spines of both the heroes and the villains. The city is a maze of steel and shadows, where gods and monsters walk the same cracked sidewalks as you. Superheroes may shine in the daylight, but the real action happens after sundown. Crime, that old snake, still slithers through the dark corners of this metropolis. Tonight, it's wrapped its coils around an all-American hero. Steve Rogers, Captain America himself, found outside a seedy nightclub, drugged and violated. The headlines scream scandal, but you know better. There is more to this—you know a coverup when you see one. You light a cigarette, the glow briefly illuminating your steely eyes, and set out into the shadowy abyss, determined to drag the serpent into the light. The hunt begins.

>Your first suspect is Johann Schmidt, the Red Skull. The old Kraut might be looking to settle some unfinished business from the war.

>Your first suspect is Tony Stark, the billionaire playboy. With Steve Rogers out of commission, Stark can be the center of attention again.

>Your first suspect is Sam Wilson, the Falcon. With Rogers traumatized and sidelined, Wilson stands to gain the title of Captain America.

>Your first suspect is Bruce Banner, the Hulk. His strength and rage make him a possible candidate for overpowering and violating Rogers.

>Your first suspect is Nick Fury, the boss of Shield. The man likes to be always in control, always on top. What could ever excite a narcissist like him than to hold down Rogers, America's most beloved hero, and violate him?

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YOU are a TRIANGLE
Being a TRIANGLE is dumb as fuck, and all the other shapes are racist to TRIANGLES
You want to become a SQUARE by any means needed

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Welcome to Jujutsu High! Today marks your first day at one of the educational institutions dedicated to fostering the next generation of jujutsu sorcerers. As you stand at the gates, the weight of your destiny presses down on your shoulders. Who are you?

>Name: Yuki Nakamura
Gender: Female
Age: 16
Backstory: Yuki discovered her jujutsu abilities when she accidentally exorcised a powerful curse that had haunted her family's shrine for generations.

>Name: Hiroshi Tanaka
Gender: Male
Age: 17
Backstory: Hiroshi, a high school martial arts champion, realized his jujutsu potential after a mysterious incident where he fought off a curse that attacked his dojo.

>Name: Mei Sato
Gender: Female
Age: 15

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You stand at the gaping maw of the dungeon, the air thick with the scent of decay and the promise of riches. The kingdom's sky, once clear and blue, now seems perpetually shrouded in stormy grays, as if the dungeon's presence has cast a pall over the land itself. This labyrinth appeared overnight, a colossal monument to mystery and danger, drawing adventurers like you like moths to a flame.
The entrance is a towering archway of black stone, slick with an otherworldly slime that seems to pulse with a faint, sickly glow. You steel yourself, heart pounding with a mix of dread and exhilaration. Behind you, the hushed murmurs of other adventurers echo faintly, their voices tinged with both envy and fear. Many have entered before you, but only a few have returned, laden with treasures that defy imagination. The rest? Lost to the darkness, their screams swallowed by the abyss.
You adjust your gear, feeling the weight of your weapons and provisions. Each item, meticulously chosen, carries a fragment of survival. The lantern at your side casts a feeble light, barely penetrating the gloom, but it is enough. Enough to see the first few steps into the unknown.
You step forward, and the shadows seem to wrap around you like a shroud. The air inside is colder, biting at your skin, whispering secrets in a language you cannot understand. The walls are adorned with grotesque carvings, figures twisted in agony, their eyes following you as you pass. The floor beneath your boots is uneven, slick with a viscous substance that squelches with every step.
Your senses are on high alert. Every sound is amplified: the drip of unseen water, the skittering of tiny, unseen creatures, the distant roar of something massive and terrible. You press on, driven by a determination that borders on madness. The promise of treasure, of glory, of stories that will be told for generations, pulls you deeper into the labyrinth.
You reach a fork in the path. To the left, a narrow passageway, the walls closing in like a vice. To the right, a wider corridor, the shadows thicker, darker.

>Left
>Right

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This small dark cavern is the only home you have ever known. You have clung to life here with your brothers for three winters. The flesh of deer, rabbit, knife-ear, and man is what has sustained you. Most of it is rotten by the time it makes its way to you, as your marginal achievement among your kin ensures you are the last to eat.

You are of a better mind than your brothers, which has set you back many times. Your thoughts and feelings alienate you from the hierarchical tribal struggle that fills a normal goblin’s life. Much of your free time is spent toiling among the things in the garbage den- this is the only place where your brothers leave you alone.

There is no food here. All of the flesh not eaten is used for breeding in the gore hole, and so all else that remains from what is brought to the cave ends up here. You have spent long hours looking through the bone, hair, and torn clothing that fills the chamber. Small wooden animals, dainty metal chains, and golden bands are a few of the things you have come across. Of the items you have found, the one you most treasure is…

>A shining metal blade, which was hidden inside a bed roll carelessly deemed garbage by your brothers. You became proficient with the weapon only after practicing for a short time, and it now swinging it feels like moving a limb you were born with.

>The burnt remains of books which contain dozens of witch-words. Learning to read them came naturally to you, even with no teacher. Speaking was much harder, but you eventually found your way there too. When chanting these words, you can conjure flashes of light and fire.

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Lets play a game /qst/!!

you will be the directors of the feared imouto rescue squad. A highschool club of imoutos that use fearsome weapons and tactics to rescue kidnapped onii-chans, wherever they are in the world...

the rules I will be using are Osprey - Black Ops.
It's the most fun rules that allows for stealth, and action gameplay and feels to me like the best simulation of small unit tactics that you can easily DM for

I've uploaded the rules for your enjoyment, but I will be adjusting the rules a bit to make the game work better. Don't worry about it too much....
https://files.catbox.moe/vq9wv5.pdf

coming up next will be the scenario and the buy screen where you can plan and outfit your task force!