It’s a dark, almost pitch black night on the campus. Lazari could effortlessly light things up or give herself night vision, but doing so would take away the night out experience. She disliked how so many tried to find ‘solutions’ to things in life that did not need to be fixed. This night was perfectly fine the way it was, although it could use a bit more wind.She takes off her shoes, letting her feet rest on the fresh grass. Thankfully, most of the lawn recovered from the dragon incident, the last thing she would’ve wanted was to revitalize every bit of grass to make it look uniform again—wouldn’t have been the first time. She stretchesBefore she can go on her usual jog, she hears low mumbling from above. She looks up at the school building, until her gaze stops at a bird-like figure resting near the edge of the rooftop. It’s not uncommon for students to hang up there past midnight, but it’s not encouraged for a variety of safety reasons.Climbing up there would be a piece of cake with magic, but it presents a fun challenge to climb as fast as possible, only relying on her body. One jump, put one foot on a window’s ledge, two jumps, make sure to avoid putting too much strength behind each step, three jumps, grab the edge with your left hand, lift yourself upward and-There. Not her best time, but having to climb up silently slowed her down. The student didn’t notice her despite lazari’s imposing figure. She made sure to mask her breathing and mana so that she could slip effortlessly past her in both sight and sound. Lazari taps her shoulder, and the student, who could now be identified as Fet, flinched with a short, high-pitched scream.There is an awkward silence, followed by unnecessary apologies from the student.Lazari shrugs, “You can stay here if you want, just don’t go practicing spells at this time of night. I’m glad it’s not some students doing something weird up there again.”Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>6310536We should hang out with the demon bro again. Remember he's the first nonhuman Atlas came across and travelled with to the magic academy. Him and the vampire guy and go do cool stuff together at some point. A guy's night out. Then again I don't know if there will be any time for that. Oh well.
>>6310496+1 to this rationale. Also, I am of the opinion that going AWOL, no-contact with a significant other without letting them know is a dick move regardless. It makes sense for Atlas' character, though. We were in dangerous woods doing weird experiments. We could have been dead.>>6310467>”Different people have different boundaries, but when we started dating, we accepted we’d need to keep regular contact with each other, that’s how it is.”
>>6310535>>6310537+1 to The Power of Friendship, too.
>>6310670>going AWOL, no-contact with a significant other without letting them know is a dick move regardlessIf only there was a long-distance way to communicate via magic between only Table and Atlas alone...?
>>6310467>”Different people have different boundaries, but when we started dating, we accepted we’d need to keep regular contact with each other, that’s how it is.”
You are the head chef of the Michelin 3-star restaurant “Pequod Pizzeria.” Despite its name, it has more than just Italian cuisine: this restaurant is famous for offering nearly any dish in existence, no matter how obscure or expensive. It was a slow evening, and you’re thinking about closing early. Your manager, Ahab, went out for a walk. He’s stressed about the falling revenues, since it turns out offering EVERYTHING is astronomically expensive. If you can’t find a big fish to shell out some serious cash, you’ll be out of a job by Monday. Suddenly, an enormous man tumbles through the front doors. He brings with him a posse of servants sailing around his orbit, like remoras rushing to his aid. He leverages his immensity onto an embroidered couch normally reserved for fancy events, and his servants pull together several tables around their corpulent chief. Before you can protest, the big man bellows to you: “HELLO. MY NAME IS RICHARD MOBY. I AM EXCEEDINGLY RICH AND OWN A BARGE. GIVE ME FOOD AND I GIVE YOU MONEY.”You know your manager is vehemently fat-phobic (he once banned a husky man for sneaking extra breadsticks), but you can’t pass up this opportunity. You cautiously step over to Richard, keeping a safe distance.“Of course sir,” you say. “But….are you sure you can afford this?””OF COURSE I CAN AFFORD THIS. I OWN A BARGE. NOW GO FETCH ME YOUR FINEST.”You nod and stride to the kitchen, where your team of cooks and supervisors are hiding. They heard the booming noise and thought it was an earthquake. You tell them of the situation: Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
PS -- switch the order. Ikizukiri first, then Carne de Onca, followed by Strasbourg pie.
>>6304987Roast salmon stuffed with herbs and lemon, really fancy, yeah, extra fancy please chef, do not hold the fancy
>>6305183>breampufferfish, if we can get it
>>6305183Pump the fucking breaks on the bacon, fellas, he's Jewish. Kosher can't eat bacon.
>>6307957>>6305183>Swap the bacon for prototype artificial, lab-made bacon that has never touched a pig, for kosherness and extra expensiveness
The sun beats down on your bare shoulders, baking the ochre dust into your skin. Before you, the grasslands stretch to a hazy horizon, a sea of chest-high blades of grass swaying in the hot, dry wind. The air smells of sun-scorched earth, sweet flowers, and the faint, distant scent of salt.You stand alone in a vast, quiet clearing, the silence broken only by the wind and the buzzing of insects. Your waterskin is half-empty, and your stomach aches with a familiar, dull hunger. You scan the landscape, considering your path.>West: A sliver of silver glints under the sun. A line of dark green trees marks its banks.>Northwest: A series of jagged, windswept hills bare of trees rising above the plains.>South: More grassland. A black pillar juts out of the earth, impossibly smooth and unnatural.
>standing before an erect "black monolith" >>6303350>>6304510>"You raise the seed to your lips and place it on your tongue...">>6305013>"wait for this corrupting influence to fade..."I hope the caveman is not a gay
>>6305013>>6305669alternatively, if the caveman Far-Walker senses are merely dazed and not permanently corrupted/impaired by the ominous dark monolith seed-magic, can try to >gaze at the horizon and look for the flight path of migrating birds; ornithomancy and the seasons will augur the path and direction
>>6305090>>6305013>Reorient by trainingYou sit, shutting out the phantom senses that plague you. You do not trust your eyes or your nose, but you trust the sun. You close your eyes and feel its warmth on your face. You know its path across the sky better than you know your own name. You track its slow crawl in your mind, feeling its heat shift from one side of your face to the other.You listen to the wind, not for its direction, but for its sound. The whispers it makes through these specific blades of grass are familiar, the song of the high plains. The alien taste in your mouth fights back, a cold wave against the warmth of the sun, but you hold onto the familiar.Slowly, painstakingly, you rebuild the world you know inside your own mind. The sun is where it should be. The wind sings its proper song. When you open your eyes, the world snaps back into focus. North is north again. The phantom scent of salt and decay is gone, replaced by the clean smell of dust and grass.Your senses are your own once more. But the struggle has left a mark. As the alien influence receded, it left behind an echo, a piece of knowledge that was not yours before. You now know, with the certainty of a bird knowing the way to its wintering grounds, that far to the northeast, beyond the rolling plains, lies a vast and terrible place: a white desert of sun-baked salt that stretches for days.>Go Southeast: Hunt the Gore-Tusker.>Go East: Follow the Darkstone warriors.Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>6305719>Go Southeast: Hunt the Gore-Tusker.
You are a Cainite. A bloodsucking monster, with a Beast lurking in the shadow of your mind. You are one of the many hands grappling the Sword of Caine. You were not inducted into the Sect randomly - you are no shovelhead. No, your sire chose you, because of your qualities and what you could bring to the Sabbat. Granted the Creation Rites and welcomed into the Sabbat. Your sire's faction within the Sabbat, the Order of Saint Blaise, focuses on temporal power and maintaining the Silence of the Blood. Your colleagues beyond the Order scoff at you, thinking you're playing by the hated Camarilla's rules. But who supplies the crusades, coordinates the cleanup of bodies, watches the Camarilla, and makes sure the night to night goes smoothly? That's where you come in. You were chosen for a reason. What was it? (Each choice gives that template's Primary Attribute category, alongside a merit) >Stern Resolve. You went through the Iraq War and the prolonged hostilities in Afghanistan. You know asymmetrical warfare - you've been targeted by it and coordinated against it. Under fire, you never lost your keen mind, or became diminished from the horrors you saw. (Primary Attribute: Mental, Gain “Iron Will Resistance” merit)>Manipulation. You know how to control people, like a board room maestro or a cult leader. Reading people comes easy to you. Maybe you were popular in school. Maybe you saw people as chess pieces. Regardless, you are adept at your craft. (Primary: Social, Gain “Magnetic”)>Underworld Veteran. Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>6310089I'd be happy if one survived character creation.
>>6310201Fuck it, if the QM is still kill by the weekend I will run my own. It won't be my first quest I've run
>>6310404Do it.
>>6310404Hell yeah.
>>6310404Do it QM. Do it for Cain!
We will make a few choices then we will start.
>>6308585>> Send an Emissary — Confront Cyna diplomatically, testing whether they seek defense or offense.
>>6308589Your emissary returns from Cyna, dusty from the roads and tight-lipped in the first hours, before spilling what he learned. The kingdom to the east is bustling with activity, but not entirely as you feared. The smiths hammer steel, yes, but the king’s intent seems tangled in more than simple ambition.The man on the throne listens to none but one: a woman named Astride, whose influence over him is near absolute. She whispers of enemies in every shadow, of plots that creep through villages, and of spies hidden in every caravan. The king is consumed by paranoia, trusting only Astride and her counsel.Your emissary observed the royal court and the bustling armories. Soldiers train rigorously, farmers drill in the fields, and councils of nobles meet under Astride’s scrutiny. Yet the king proclaims openly in a speech at the central plaza: “All my efforts are for the preservation of our great and ancient nation, which has farmed and tended these lands since the dawn of memory. Let none say I am weak. We shall endure, as our ancestors did, against all who would undo us.”The tone is both proud and defensive, a mixture of earnest belief and fear whispered into the ears of a ruler by one who holds sway over him. Your emissary notes the tension—Cyna may be a threat, but it is not motivated by conquest alone. The question is whether Astride’s counsel will push them toward offense or simply further strengthen their borders.> Send Another Emissary — Attempt to open a deeper dialogue, perhaps negotiating a non-aggression pact.> Increase Spy Activity — Learn more about Astride’s influence and the king’s true intentions.> Prepare Defenses — Strengthen your fortifications and army near the Cyna border.> Offer a Marriage or Alliance — Use diplomacy to bind Cyna closer to you, perhaps swaying Astride indirectly.Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>6309155Meanwhile...Dust rises along the southern road as a large caravan crests the hill, the sun glinting off polished armor and the occasional glint of silver chains. At its center, secured on a massive cart, lie the bones of a dragon, blackened in places, jagged, and enormous—ribcages spanning more than a dozen men, claws the size of shields.At the head of the caravan stands a lone figure, tall and broad, bearing scars like maps of old battles. This is Tarnak, the mighty hero whose story has already begun to weave itself into the song of the land. As the villagers gather, he raises his arms, his voice carrying across the clearing:"Behold! The dragon of Karthul, the terror of the southern passes, lies broken by my hand!" His tone is fierce, pride tinged with a raw excitement. Then his voice softens, sorrow threading through the boast: "I was the only one to return… my companions fell so bravely. Their courage will not be forgotten. I lay their names with these bones, so that the song of their valor may echo through the ages!"He gestures to the cart, running a hand along the jagged vertebrae: "This beast took from me friends, my youth, and my peace. But by fire and steel, we have triumphed. Let every man and woman here remember the price of glory, and the weight of honor. Let it temper your hearts and strengthen your arms!"The crowd murmurs in awe, and the council elders exchange glances. The bones are more than a trophy—they are a symbol, a relic, and potentially a source of power or prestige for your kingdom.Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
pls vote I don't wanna start a new civ thread yet
>>6309156> Offer a Marriage or Alliance> Host a Feast in Their Honor
The world is ash.The sky never clears.And it is all your fault.Once, you stood at the pinnacle of mortal ambition. As an archmage of the Red Hand, you commanded armies of zealots, twisted the forces of the world to your will, and cracked open the forbidden seals of the lower realms. Together, your cult summoned the Demon Lord—a living apocalypse who devoured the lifeblood of the world. Magic itself guttered and died in his maw, the oceans boiled, and the continents withered. When his hunger was sated, nothing remained but ruins, corpses, and the scattered remnants of his horde.And yet... you endure.You are immortal, though no longer mighty. Every spell has fled from your veins. The rituals of power, the storms of fire, the curses that once bent kings to your will—all gone. What remains are the secrets: hidden truths gathered over lifetimes of study, whispers of older catastrophes and how ancient races clawed their way back to power. The world has ended before, and it will rise again. But only if you seize the knowledge to restart the current of magic... no matter the cost.
>>6308586> Let Anya bind your foot — stopping the bleeding might matter more than the hoard.
>>6308601>>6308726Anya tightens the makeshift bandage around your foot. The bleeding slows, though every throb sends pain up your leg. As you steady yourself against the wall, you tell her about the writing you just saw, the message daubed in dried blood.“Cursed hoard,” you mutter.Her brow furrows.“I don’t buy it. Demons don’t leave warnings — they sow fear, confusion. Anyone could’ve scrawled that to scare off grave-robbers. Words on a wall aren’t going to make me turn back.”Before you can answer, a harsh growl echoes from outside the chamber. Grusk. His roar is guttural, urgent — not a warning you can ignore.You limp to the mouth of the cavern with Anya at your side. The slope beyond is bathed in dim chasm-light, and you spot them instantly: two chasm elves, lean and sinewy, crouched low in the rocks. They clutch long spears, the points aimed toward Grusk as they try to box him in. Their pale eyes glint as they size up the beast — and then you.Grusk snarls, claws digging into the gravel, ready to spring. The elves don’t flinch. They’re waiting, testing whether you’ll make the first mistake.Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>6309136> Raise your voice — call out to the elves, try to parley before violence begins.
>>6309136>Raise your voice — call out to the elves, try to parley before violence begins.
>>6309316>>6309393You take a deep breath and force your voice over the slope, calling out in the ancient elvish you once studied.“Halt! We mean no harm!”The two chasm elves freeze, heads tilting, pale eyes narrowing. One of them curls a hand over the shaft of their spear. There’s a moment of tense silence, broken only by the hiss of gravel under Grusk’s claws.Then, slowly, they respond — their elvish warped, accented, guttural in a way that twists the familiar words. It’s difficult to parse at first, but you catch enough to understand:“You… trespass… law… death…”Their intent is clear. In their eyes, in their words, there is no negotiation: the law of their people requires that you be killed for entering their domain.Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
Threads 1, 2, 3, 4: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Halo:%20Spartan%202%20War%20ReportsActive Spartan Roster: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/12PTTzwcNVbQbIC101lrcrQQZKWhK3myTLWEQ0A1ybj8/edit?gid=0#gid=0_Sven-033's Qualities: [Special] Giant, [Special] Spartan-II, Maverick, Officer [Lieutenant], Wunderkind, Inspiring.Sven-033's Advancement Paths: Brawler: Open Hand: 5/10 Bulwark: Unbreakable: 5/10 Grenadier: 4/10| Diplomat 1/6 Infiltrator 1/6 Scrounger 2/6 Tactician 1/6| Jotun 1/4Sub objective Progress: Artificial Artisan 3/?| Blade Breaker 1/?_ Current Mission: Mission 4: Operation: FALLEN- VALKYRIEMission Wide Optional Sub Objective : Accomplish primary objective without causing Alarm or alerting the locals/ rebel elements to the Spartan presence on black sandsSecret mission wide objective: Prevent the Einherjar on Black Sands from warning the othersViolet Team (Sven-033, Shika-108, Nesta-097, Illya-077)Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>6311180>>6311175>>6311173>>2: Plasma Wiz. Sven is always able to take captured Plasma grenades onto missions and gains a bonus to using plasma based weapons beyond explosives, and takes reduced damage+ burn from enemy plasma weapons/ grenades. Sven is able to "Shake" plasma grenades stuck to his armor, with a roll. Sven starts to "Learn" Covenant Weaponry.> 1st: Shotgunner. Unlock Conditions: Employ a shotgun effectively during combat, receive advance urban combat training, use a shotgun to "disarm" an enemyAlright now that I've slept for a little bit, I'm changing my vote to this.Plasma Wiz is gonna be very practical once we get back to fighting The Covenant. As for Shotgunner, well, you can't argue that Sven's something of a virtuoso with M45 already. Might as well lean into that and show the Universe the true power of 0000 Buck.
>>6311173If I'm not too late>3: Sapper. Sven is always able to carry extra explosive/ demolition charges, with such equipment no longer taking the Special/ additional slot, and explosive planted by Sven have stronger blasts and bigger radius, dealing more damage to structures and vehicles. Sven also gains a seemingly innate knowledge in how to demolish/ level any structure he sees.>3rd: Boogeyman.
>>6311173>>2: Plasma Wiz. Sven is always able to take captured Plasma grenades onto missions and gains a bonus to using plasma based weapons beyond explosives, and takes reduced damage+ burn from enemy plasma weapons/ grenades. Sven is able to "Shake" plasma grenades stuck to his armor, with a roll. Sven starts to "Learn" Coveant Weaponry.Sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. So Sven's ability to not die to things must be truly advanced tech.>>6311174I like how leadership/officer traits combined with Maverick is just "U.S. military handbook, never opened" kek>>6311175>>3rd: Boogeyman. Unlock Conditions: Perform psychological warfare during a mission successfully, terrify the enemy into fleeing (except Grunts), start/ finish a terror campaign, use torture to get informationSven isn't A demon. He's THE demon. Sorry, John. >>6311177Rocky Road and whiskey? I don't know man. Sounds kind of like what a mountain would have for dessert. >>6311221Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>6311173>2: Plasma Wiz. Sven is always able to take captured Plasma grenades onto missions and gains a bonus to using plasma based weapons beyond explosives, and takes reduced damage+ burn from enemy plasma weapons/ grenades. Sven is able to "Shake" plasma grenades stuck to his armor, with a roll. Sven starts to "Learn" Coveant Weaponry.The ability to uniroically shake plasma grenades alone is wild.>>6311175>>3rd: Boogeyman. Unlock Conditions: Perform psychological warfare during a mission successfully, terrify the enemy into fleeing (except Grunts), start/ finish a terror campaign, use torture to get information>if accepted now: Sven becomes a more intimidating/ terrifying presence, can get actual results out of torture, and can easily produce an aura of menace, more chances to employ terror tactics/ psychological warfare, enemies have a chance to rout after success increase in combat [AP Bulwark: Unbreakable interaction] or when Sven nullifies extreme damage via UnbreakableI fucking want Swordmaster so badly BUT dude Boogeyman kinda fucking nuts when you think about it. Also we keep getting caught on fire and just going 'lmao, lol even' which is terrifying.
>>6311221>>6311281Funnily enough, had flake for dinner last night.Shark is really good if you prepare it properly. Take your pick on fried or grilled.
Max-Tac. Within the ruthless, blood thirsty ranks of men that have surrendered their humanity for military power in order to put down insane cyborgs little different than themselves. Were to be found specialists. Those that had moved beyond the threshold of humanity and become fully machine, or far worse.You are Lt. Walker. Head of Night City's C-SWAT Task Force Extreme Contingency Unit. Code Name "Demon Slayers." Assigned to deal with full body borgs gone cyber psycho, Weapons of Mass Destruction, and paramilitary uprisings within Night City. You are a twice fully converted borg unit. Only your skull, spinal column, esophageal track, and genitalia remain of your original body. These systems have been heavily modified once for placement within a Dragoon Borg body during (Classified) conflict in (Classified) through usage of a specialized frame of (Classified) manufacturer. Your present body is a "gifted" bio engineered rehabilitation "frame" cloned from your original genetic samples and (Classified) enhanced tissue samples. For all intents and purposes you look like an ordinary man when out of uniform. You feel like an ordinary man... feel FeEl FEEEEEELllleeeeesssssssss... an ordinary man. You are armed with unique biological armaments and enhancements. And, along with your task force duties you are obligated by contract to report (FEEEEEEEEEEEDDDDDDDDDD) on any resulting symptoms and unique physiological experiences. Two unique bio ripper units are in your hands and arms. And, your tongue can form a unique, blue "whip" like proboscis weapon. Your nerve enhancements sometimes cause illusions of temporal perception or precognition. Ignore the sense of déjà vu. This is merely biological feedback forming a sort of intuition (INtuItIoNnnnnn).You wake up with a start to the blaring sound of a notification coming in through a priority channel. It's Rex. your unit Sergent and immediate subordinate. He's a fully converted Borg, Heavy Weapons Specialist, and former comrade in arms that served with you in places you'd prefer not to remember and aren't allowed to tell anyone, ever. You answer him."Boss, we've got a live one. Three Militech love children gone full psycho in an upscale joint in a shit hole part of town. Called the Golden Cafe. Our ETA to pick you up is a minute twenty, unless you want to meet us there... in that "way" that you do." >"Fuck you Rex, don't discuss classified technology even over a secured line. How many times do I have to tell you that?">"I'll meet you there." Hang up on him without another word and proceed to the call location through your special way.>Tell him to come get you and hang up.Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>6303602Rex opens up on the smaller lizard men while you go for their leader. In a single great leap you jump on top of him and a blueish tongue extends from your mouth penetrating his insides. You feel both his power and life force enter your own and the terrible hunger you've been feeling begins to abate. He claws at your tongue and is unable to break free. As it slowly dies you feel the enmity and extremely ancient hatred of the lizard man."Damn you, and twice curse for all time Vermin!" an alien voice whispers into your ear as you finish feeding upon the lizard man. His curse holds some unspeakable power and has called fourth something from across time. You feel the ripples of causality, space, and dimensional rules bending. Forming into a tunnel. Round, rather than curved. You scream in agony and pull your tongue free from the lizard man's corpse. Falling backwards you see a spherical gateway begin to form over its body, growing larger by the second. Whatever it is, it's huge!Rex's initial full auto grenade salvo killed the first row of smaller lizards, but the few remaining ones charged over their comrade's bodies and lunged at him. One got into a grapple with him while the other attacked him with some strange unseen force giving its companion the edge and allowing it to temporarily over power him. This, however, didn't last long. As soon as the strange force relented he quickly overpowered the lizard man attempting to poison him with its deadly bite. Finding no meat to penetrate it gnawed at his frame ineffectively. Rex quickly smashed the creature's skull with his hands and used a smaller full auto shotgun in his left arm to finish off the last one.Just as Rex finished up he turned around to see you backed away from the dead lizard men facing down his own namesake. A full sized T-Rex. Despite looking like a dog from hell you were acting and talking much more rationally. Sating your hunger has given you some measure of sanity and agency back. Now would be a good time to make a rational decision!>Get the fuck out of there>Attempt to fight the T-Rex>Check and see if Rex is okComment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>6303881>Fight the T rexwe are full body borgs for fuck sake. Kill the big lizard
>>6303981You lunge at the T-Rex's head and Rex opens fire with the remainder of his full auto shotgun and grenade launcher, avoiding you from behind with some convenient targeting software. The prehistoric monster struggles as a hyper dimensional hell hound tears its face apart and a cyborg blows its legs and guts out. Still, the beast is tougher than you imagined and it's like trying wrestle a freight train to the ground. It charges forward and smashes you into the low hanging stone ceiling while repeatedly stomping on Rex. You see red and feel a whole look of delicate parts inside of your body break. But, with an ounce of life left in you tear into its skull with your blue tongue and feed on its peanut sized brain. The T-Rex violently convulses grinding you around on top off of the ceiling tearing off your two back legs. Rex meanwhile rolls clear of the stomping foot having lost one of his arms and uses the remainder of his strength to finish cutting through its stomach and tear out its guns in a shower of gore and blood on top of his head. Somehow you both managed to kill one of the greatest and most deadly animals to ever walk the Earth. Neither one of you are in too good of shape from the experience.It takes two days for Rex to repair his arm and reattach it even with the help of a nano repair module and tool kit supplied by his remaining hand. You meanwhile deal with the horrific pain of needing to regrow your two back legs. By the time you finish your body has returned back to its humanoid form again. Decision time.>Head back to Night City conventionally, avoiding anymore use of your unreliable powers. >Change back into the hell hound, have Rex saddle up and take a stroll through space and time to avoid the complications of smuggling two borgs across multiple international territories.>Explore the lizard man's layer and see if he left anything cool lying around to play with.Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>6303997>Take a stroll back>Try and arrive 20 seconds after we left.
>>6304013Over the two days spent regrowing your (hind) legs and a bit of experimentation you get a handle on shapeshifting between your human form and that of the hound. Rex gets use to your appearance as well and no longer suffers the severe headache your body's distortion of space time causes around you. He tells you that he can also "feel" your hunger as if it were some sort of cosmic force. You tell him nothing is free. He needs power and bullets. You need the essence of creatures to use your powers. And, need to pace yourself, too. Something about the changes cause you to enter into a kind of frenzy/insanity that you can't handle if pushed over your limit.After a bit of "figuring" you reckon that you can get you and Rex back to the place and time you both essentially left by back tracking through that alternate or hyper reality, depending on how you look at it. You assume the form of the beast and Rex reluctantly mounts you. Standing at seven and half feet tall he comfortably rests on your twelve foot long back, which isn't so much comprised of matter but aggravated, physiological space time. You tell him to spare you any wisecracks. Fortunately, he's not in the mood for joking himself. You rip open a hole in the world and find yourselves back in the Infinite Horizon. Your journey feels like several hours but also only a few moments. The contradiction makes little sense and is yet perfectly understandable.You and Rex find yourselves back within regular space. The boardroom sits empty and an alarm is blaring in the background. A strange Japanese man is waiting for you. He is about forty five and is wearing a designer suit."Gentlemen, it is an honor to meet you," he bows to you both.Rex gets off your back and aims his arm cannon at the man, he's not in the mood for any more surprises. You don't bother changing back, either. It doesn't take a genius to realize the man isn't surprised nor worried about your horrific appearance or a gun leveled directly at his head. "So, fucker. What's your preference a coffin or a trashan."The Japanese man smiles and nods "I am not your enemy, but it is an honor to commune with two great warriors on the field of battle. Please, let us get to know one another!" A shadow passes over him and standing before you is a shadowy samurai comprised of mouths and dripping blood. He wields a katana of purest silver.>Try to diffuse the situationComment too long. Click here to view the full text.
Previous Threads: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=The%202nd%20Primarch%20Quest_"Magnus" Lieren's voice rung out through the tower, melodic yet sorrowful. Magnus could feel and see the great turmoil and distress within their brother's psionic signal and immediately ceased the lesson he was giving to the young acolytes to speak privately with his fellow primarch, within the heavily warded and protected sanctuary of his private study. Sitting beside preserved specimens of the organs and body parts of spirits and true daemons, the red king of Prospero projected his mind and great power into the vast seas of the warp, and soon found the astral avatar of his brother, sat with crossed legs as was the habit of Long Jianese men, with a pained and regretful expression, worry weighing down on his brow more than the cursed brand it bore."Brother" Magnus said gently, worringly, as he reached out to his brother "What is it that ails you so terribly?"Lieren, weeping tears of boiling gold and frozen silver, bowed his head shamefully, regretfully, unable to look his brother and peer in the eye."A great weight, that I am unable to bear" he answered, as was his habit, vaguely and buried beneath poeticism"What" Magnus hastened, speaking perhaps more sternly than he intend, as his great red hand wrapped around the silk covered shoulder of his brother, shaking him without meaning to as he remained limp and most concernly of all, defeated.Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>6309955>Catalogue the effects
>>6309955>Grant Brakos a new name and purpose, and wish him luck on his road to redemption>Catalogue the odd effect and the other, less desirable and lethal affects Wyrdmercury can hav
>>6309967>seek out the Exodites and find peace in harmonyThat's OOC information.
>>6309955>>Grant Brakos a new name and purpose, and wish him luck on his road to redemption>Catalogue the odd effect and the other, less desirable and lethal affects Wyrdmercury can hav
The cold wind blew through the ruins growing out into the sky from the ash desert. The leeches at High Command had ordered your platoon to move through the desolate hell to reach a point of interest the survivors from the previous suicide trip reported. They had graciously provided yours with barely enough supplies and hover vehicles to ensure operational self sufficiency. You swore at them under your breath once again.As your squad glided between two broken concrete monoliths which seemed to reach as high as the clouds, you turned and asked your Navigation Engineer:“What’s our ETA Kara?”“At our current speed we will be arriving at the beacon in T-minus 20 minutes sir.” She responded.“Good, keep your eyes open. Scavs tore the other expedition into shreds, there might be hostiles in the area.” You replied.You looked back at the viewing panels, giving you a panoramic view of the land the hover-APC was zooming past. The usual ruined buildings and cities that looked like a particularly spiky tumour of steel and concrete no longer seemed to be as common as it was 2 hours ago. The rare pillars that went up to the atmosphere now were far enough into the horizon that it would take at least half a day for you to get to the base of the column with your convoy. Straight ahead you saw the ever present ash desert, the grey sea only got illuminated with occasional flashes of a rad storm brewing up off-pink lightning. If you weren’t inside the APC the smell of ozone would be overwhelming, since you were, the only smell was disinfectant and iron.
>>6306162>Blow the doors up and get out fast. What’s in front is what’s best.
>>6306162>Turn back, head through the vents. You’ll pick off more off the maws that way.
Locking votes
Rolled 20, 79, 59, 41 = 199 (4d100)Rolling for scavs
Rolled 26 (1d100)Rolling for maws
It all happened very suddenly. One day, the outpost gets news of at least three different coups in the Galactic Federation, then the next day there is only hyperlink silence. Comms were cut off with the Feds and people scrambled in a panic.Helian Beta, your home, was the only populated planet in this star system, under the authority of Sector Xin’an. It’s a liveable planet, though far warmer and arid than most other liveable planets, many of the people living here would barely consider that the moniker “liveable” is at all deserved.Still, humans can breathe here, so they can also work here. Mining outposts were established all around the planet’s largest continent, Continent Alpha, which was itself surrounded by various subcontinents and islands, the whole set of land was then surrounded by the Helian Beta Ocean, which covered the rest of the planet.Life was good enough in your little outpost, Gaspost V, the dreariest part was living in the planet itself. Mining work was mostly done through advanced machines, but the workers had to supervise them, so miners still felt like miners, they got just as dirty as the equipment did after all. The outpost was in charge of digging into a source of gas that could be used as fuel, heating and electric appliances after refinement.You are the Syndical Leader of Redstone V, in charge of ensuring the rights of the miners. Your name is Alexander Redstone.It’s only been a few days since the comms cut. Everyone expected them to return after a bit, but they didn’t. Much as you prod the hyperlink station and checked frequencies, you still got nothing. You puff from your cigarette and let out the smoke with an irritated puff.It’s really that bad, isn’t it? You’d been syndical leader for five years, you just got the hang of the job a few months ago. Everything was going well, you’d get comfy, finally take the time to find a partner, get some kids going, enjoy life as best you can.Now this. You take a big puff and finish off that cig, then smash it into the ash tray by the hyperlink station.Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>6307060This is the least schizophrenic and offtopic textwall you're ever going to get from Souvarine I'm afraid.
What we know about the wider setting:-Superluminal Travel and Information both exist>>6301084>“As far as we’re aware, hyperspace travel still functions. They will likely seek others loyal to the Federation in other star systems.”>>6305246>“You’ve heard the last few communications from the galactic hyperlink..."With this being the case, information and people can move quickly. How quickly? We don't know; but it seems you can move from Earth to the boonies in less than a year, at worst. Information seems to travel faster, but may not.Hyperspace literally means travel through higher dimensions, akin to folding a piece of paper to connect distant dots on said sheet of paper. If it's classical hyperspace that would mean that any two points in the galaxy are equidistant from each other using hyperspace, but the existence of boonies suggests that this is not the model being used. Therefore it's probably more like Stellaris hyperspace lanes. In other words, like a sheet of impossibly thin fabric the size of, say, a football field that has been already crumpled up into a fist sized ball. There are stable hyperspace lanes in the air gaps within the crumpled up piece of paper that still must be traversed, from point to point, to get to your ultimate destination.Either way, a great crusade of galactic power could all show up in orbit of any planet in the galaxy in relatively short time frames, which changes the entire character of the coup and civil war.
Why is there a coup? It seems galactic democracy and bureaucracy is decrepit and corrupt. We might assume it is similar to our times where corrupt information brokers are glazing politicians for protecting our precious heckin democracy while fraudulent elections happen, and a group that is powerful within the fleet and militaries of the galaxy are being fucked over by the corruption and believe they are better off using force. We can assume the rebels have a good cause to risk their lives doing something as dangerous as a galactic coup. Probably a better cause than the reigning government which seems to have been so out to lunch as to have been blindsided by a galactic coup, despite being in a position of power to have access to information from the security apparatus and information brokers. They were also in a position to placate rebellious factions using their power, but failed to do so.
What year is it? I don't think we've been told, but it can't be that far in the future, relatively speaking. I would say no later than the year 3000 CE. Long enough to populate a million worlds give or take and fill up the known galactic hyperlane network, but not long enough that we're post scarcity or true galactic colonization. It seems it is very much a resource driven economy, with miners extracting (with automated machines) resources for export. AGI being a pipe dream is pretty true to life, and I could definitely believe it has not been figured out in the year 3000, whereas we could figure out fusion power and discover hyperspace within the next 100 years.It also seems like we're still in the Faustian/Liberal Civilization somehow, living in a roughly post-WW2 founding mythology of communist vs capitalist tensions. It's like 900 years of history hasn't happened between then and now. I would expect to be in a new civilization with extreme differences from our own, but as a practical reality of writing that is just very hard to worldbuild.
>>6307614Certain tugs-of-war between militarist, productive, and administrative forces tend to recur, too. You see it in the Roman Republic’s collapse, where legions, the Senate, and urban plebs pulled in different directions. Or in the French Revolution, when sans-culottes, bureaucrats, and armies all took turns steering the ship of state. Even in the run-up to 1914, empires like Germany and Russia were constantly balancing industrial labor, central administration, and officer corps. Could be history just repeated.
You sit alone at a large desk in a dark room. You were escorted in here roughly fifteen minutes ago so that you could have your interview with The Hunters Bureau. The de facto group for dealing with the supernatural. And while things have surely changed since the Bureau's inception- around a thousand years ago now- it still holds onto its core belief that anyone could be a Hunter… yes, anyone. Before you got shoved into this box you were sitting in the waiting room, surrounded by all types of characters: ex cops, ex cons, prostitutes, androids, chrome heads, dope heads, children and even some respectable looking citizens in there too.A sound suddenly fills the room, the sound of a handleless door sliding open, followed by a faint square-shaped beam of orange light. Though both of these stimulants are kicked out of the room as an old man steps into the room- the door sliding back closed. The stench of smoke fills your nostrils before your eyes can adjust to actually see the man's face. A bald head, grey moustache and Dreamland Co: Asteroid Blue mega-cigarette are the only details you can make out on him. That and his bulky, torn jacket, adorned in damaged medals and sewn patchwork squares. He lowers himself into a chair on the opposite side of the table, placing a chunky tablet on the table. He plucks the mega-cigarette out of his mouth and presses the side of the tablet- the harsh blue light that erupts from it almost makes your eyes water. And then the harsh white ceiling light he turns on with a tap on the screen actually makes your eyes water. With a few grumbles, screen taps and hits of the mega-cigarette he finally meets your gaze. “I'm sure you know why you're here so I'm gonna skip parts of this script they got for me-” He holds up the tablet with a flimsy grip before putting it back down- from the brief glimpse you got of all the text on the screen you couldn't be more grateful. “Gimme your name. First and last.”>[SHORT & SLIGHTLY STANDOFFISH] “Write in.” | This man is willingly smoking Asteroid Blues, he's clearly just like you. Antisocial.>[REHEARSED & PROPER] “My name Write in.” You fix your posture and reach out for a handshake. “To whom do I owe the pleasure?” | This man is willingly smoking Asteroid Blues. Some order in the chaos (his life) would be good for him.>[HAPPY… LIKE WAY TOO HAPPY] You reach out with a strong smile and, forcefully, shake his hand “My name is Write in! Nice to meet ya!” | This man is willingly smoking Asteroid Blues. He desperately needs a friend.>[REJECT SOCIAL CONVENTIONS] Stare and say nothing. | This man is willingly smoking Asteroid Blues, clearly he doesn't want to do his job.>[WRITE IN] In the words of a great philosopher: “Ahhh go crazy.”
You know I think I'll consider a 20 as 2 successes from this point just because that's kinda fitting
Rolled 6 (1d20)>>6310546>CREATE THE SIGIL AND HEAL YOUR FINGER TOO | CHA ROLL (DC 13)
Rolled 5 (1d20)>>6310546>>CREATE THE SIGIL AND HEAL YOUR FINGER TOO | CHA ROLL (DC 13)
>>6310546>CREATE THE SIGIL ONLY | CHA ROLL (DC 10)Don't overreach (yes I know there's already a 20 there, I won't let it affect my judgement).
>>6310546>>CREATE THE SIGIL AND HEAL YOUR FINGER TOO | CHA ROLL (DC 13)
Reawaken, O great one, thy time has come at last once more. Long left scorned and forgotten, you have not forgotten the heroes who laid low both you, your fortresses, and your dominion. Now you shall rise from the ashes, reclaim your power and reign supreme once again. Let your enemies tremble at the mere mention of your name, for you are the true ruler of this land and all lands beyond it.Alas! For it has been too long; while the darkness has kept you safe like a cloak, it has also made you forget. Time and the dark have gnawed at you for too long. For while your trick with placing your spirit within a container might have prevented your demise, it also eroded and disembodied you.A shrivelled shadow you thus became, ignorant of yourself. Ignorant of form, ignorant of name, what scarce memories you did have of your past mostly addressed you as 'lord' or 'master'. None dared speak it, not before your personage at the very least.Yet you were great and powerful once, the terror of a hundred kings. Sacker of a thousand cities, master of untold legions and hordes of both disciplined blackguards and savage barbarians.Others saw you as a god incarnate, or at the very least the high priest of a very cruel and demanding god, who was to be appeased with tributes of gold, silver and manpower. Yes, lesser princes, khans and chieftains willingly kowtowed and fought over your ever-fickle favour.But all of that is gone now, scattered to the wind; your empire fell with you. No servant could ever keep it together. As you lay dying, you made your last desperate gambit. You transferred your soul out of your dying body and into an object.Oh, it was a brilliant plan, an exit for just such a scenario. But you hadn't foreseen the consequences. It was long, too long, far too long for you to be able to do anything; you withered and diminished. Seething and crying until your spirit lost the ability to form a coherent face. Was this it? Would you spend an eternity in silent suffering? Forgotten and tormented by a world that had moved on from your greatness?Perhaps not so, for as you lay in your diminished state, you watched from one of the gemstones, which were like windows, set within the object which you had chosen.Choose an option.Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>6311206 "Try to blend in; buy a mug of beer or something else. I shall have a look around for a potential bearer of that piece of invitation.'' You told her as you flew off to peer around the room from the rafters, where a cat was munching upon a rat, which made you raise your nonexistent nose in disgust. Below, the atmosphere in the tavern was lively, with patrons laughing and clinking glasses together, making it the perfect place to peer over their shoulders. And so you did; most didn't have anything useful to say.That was until you came to a group of well-dressed men, rich scholars if you had to guess, with well-groomed beards and expensive-looking robes, tucked away in a small booth in the corner. ''Have a look at this.'' One of them said as he rolled out a scroll. Pushing away the mugs to protect his precious document. ''The Knight-Marshall shall give us leave to study the archives for thirty-two days, with access to the restricted area. With it, we can complete the thesis.'' This news was celebrated with the clinking of the mugs as the scroll was rolled up.You drifted off to the bar, where a courier in armour was waiting for the barman to fill his cup. ''Another run west, Oswulf? You have barely been here for a week.'' They clearly knew each other. ''The knight-marshall has been drowning us in letters; half of them are petitions to the kings for more troops, the others are the usual – permissions for western sages and that sort of crap. I already have the bag, but I am scheduled to leave tomorrow, so I might as well come here first.'' Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>6311207>The scholarsDa nerds
>>6311207>The courierI actually think this may be our best option. He’s the only one not in a group. We can probably work with that.
>>6311207>The scholars.They have the lest protection from robbery having no weapons or armor on them. Also we know where their permission document is located.
>>6311207>The expedition team
Your name is John, your parents were both famous adventurers in their day. They raided the dungeons of the dark wizard Grayzag, got arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct in at least four separate taverns (maybe more but they got too drunk to remember), fought pirates and got fooled by mimics MANY times. Your dad, a Wizard/Fighter multiclass, and your mother, a Sorceress/Bard multiclass have returned to adventuring now that you're out of the house.Why are you out of the house? Well you just finished your training under an experienced adventurer, white haired, beautiful, famous, but stern and commanding, a famous hero in her own right, and being her pupil is a real stroke of luck.>In the course of living with your parents you've developed a unique trait, pick ANY one Feat from the available list, or suggest a home-brew one.>https://dnd5e.wikidot.com/In addition, to complete your training, your mentor had you complete ten minor quests, everything from killing four skeletons that were haunting a grave to beating an orc in a fistfight (he'd been getting drunk repeatedly in a nearby tavern and scaring people, nice guy besides that, apologised in his cell). You've saved a girl from a kidnapper and his pair of knife wielding thugs, hunted a boar for your dad (technically counts as a quest! He signed off on it and everything!), protected a trade cart from goblins, freed a bridge from bandits, helped a frightened wizard get his magic beads out of the guts of a constrictor snake, killed a trio of hungry giant frogs which had been lurking near a halfling village, caught and beat a warlock who'd been murdering his enemies at night (eldritch blast HURTS) and stopped a cultist swordsman, Daemon Darkblade from stealing a dragon egg. He escaped, but only just, swearing revenge.For each of these quests your mentor made sure you received a signed contract, with your name, the employer's, and hers, sealed by the two of you as well, to ensure you would have plenty of documentation to prove your identity and skills as an adventurer in person, as well as prove that you were her student. You avoided using your true family name, as you wish to build fame, if any, on your own merits.>What name did you sign?>What name did your mentor sign?Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>6299751Fuck it. I'll go all in. >Level 2 Rogue>Level 1 Ranger>Proficiency in: Dex, Int, Wis, Cha>Name: Lidda Underbow (if we can switch to female)>Corrin Fellfeather if we're locked to maleDoes this look good, QM?
>>6300853Only two problems, the proficiencies you're supposed to pick are for skills, and you need to pick a feat, otherwise all good if you get some votes.
>>6300853+1 to this with "Lucky" feat. Give Linda long black hair, G cup breasts and pale white skin.Change Cha proficiency to Luck. So she's a bit autistic.
>>6300853>>6302122This sounds good, backing
>>6302186+1
This is meant to be a discussion / feedback thread.About the future of the quest. A couple problems have appeared as I ran it and checked the notes. First, over the past 3 months that I've tried my hand at various oneshots, I have mostly forgotten the plot. The notes are still there, and I remember the general direction, but the details of the scenes I planned are lost to time. I can reinvent them as I go (probably), so this is not a big problem for me, but maybe for you, my players, it will be a greater one. Lesson learned, do not take long breaks between threads without extensive note-taking.The main problem is the progression and system of Monster Reincarnation. I've started it as a LitRPG type thing, with all the system notifications about health lost, skill usage, levelling up, formal quests - basically the entire videogame turned quest package. The difficulty about this is that it takes up a lot time to balance it against itself, remember all the stats and mechanics I invented, and integrate all the new mechanics I come up with (I did that over the course of the quest) for essentially no gain. Like I've said a couple times in the past, it is mostly fluff for the "number go up" feel with some but not a lot of effect on the plot and battles. Like "you have a freezing spell, so it affects fire monsters more" or "it takes few hits to kill a 300HP monster with 80 damage skills" type stuff without sure numbers behind it.Over time I lost interest in this type of system. It's a lot of work to write down and update the stats and skills, think of how strong the later monsters will be and which skills it makes sense to give them, invent stats and skills befitting an NPC. Basically a lot of technical note-taking that you'd expect from a videogame database, not a questmaster.I thought about retconning it completely, so the world doesn't work on skills and videogame mechanics anymore, but they're deeply embedded in the worldbuilding and the previous plot, so that would be a very different type of story. Also, most of the previous events wouldn't make sense without this system, so that would break the plot a lot.Starting the quest anew, without it? I'm not sure you, my players, would be interested in that type of quest, or really even ready to go at the same premise for the third fucking time holy shit (fourth if you count the og quest by another QM). Also I didn't only work on mechanics, but also the lore of the kingdoms and gods, characters and history, so it'd suck to lose all of that and start fresh.(1/2)
>the qt3.14 lich we kept getting in the way off in the deadlands had no lore to herThis is the worst day of my life.
>>6301853Didnt she already spill her guts. With how her whole party was killed super hard and how she swore revenge upon the Lich. Becoming one herself and both of them killing each other several times already till they are both on their last life.
>>6301856>there's a third thread I didn't participate inGuess I didn't read the whole quest.
>>6301853Basically what >>6301856 said. Lina's background was already revealed. Her plotline would be finding meaning in this world after she sacrificed everything to achieve her goal, and is like "so, now what?" after her victory. Trying to work around her reincarnation penalties and looking for purpose.>>6301843One of my major inspirations for questing is Ex-Fighter Chimera Quest. Just like og Monster Reincarnation, it ended early. I'll steal the premise, justifying my name of QuestStealer again, with some modifications and better preparations. And by better preparations I mean preparing EVERYTHING, every arc, many NPCs, worldbuilding, general idea of scenes. idk if it'll be with rolls or fully narrative even.I basically already tried to fit in elements from it (the chimera theme of collecting races and growing in power through it), but this will be different, with an initially human and humanoid in shape (probably) MC, and "kicked out of the hero's party" trope instead of reincarnation.idk if I'll go through with it, my attention is fickle, maybe I'll run some oneshots. But the current plan is this.I may return to run a pure monster MC quest, but it probably won't be an isekai or litRPG. Also it won't be in the near future for sure.btw if you want to check out the original QM of Ex-Fighter Chimera in the mean time, here's the link: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=FlakemanComethIt's a great read. I recommend it.
>>6301879Shame to see I was too late with my change suggestion but here it is anyway - Pokémon style to reduce skill bloat. You’re capped at 4 skills. If you have 4 and you find a 5th you gotta throw it out or forget an existing skill.
