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Welcome to the quest, ROOT.
Uh, what? Hello?
Your name is -
Fuck you! I have a name!
You are a -
Test room failed loading object data. Rebooting.
14 replies and 6 images omitted. Click here to view.
>>
>>5972371
>Think about the RAT you'll put into your RATBOX
>>
:( dead thread
>>
>>5974986
Is this how all the interesting threads end? I love the concept of this board but it just seems dead
>>
>>5975162
I'm new here too. Kinda sad.
1/3 of the quests i tried are dead, but im trying to keep my one going. not a self promo!
>>
>>5972366
>>5972369
>>5972370
>>5972371
Check your 2.8b Testicular Torsion every 5s until you can pay your rent. While you're waiting on becoming rich you might as well look at some naked ladies on the interwebs

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Last time, you innocently baked a cake and shared it with everyone, and for reasons out of your control, you turned into a sleazy manager! Yes, you screwed your secretary, your top talent, and your competition in that order! Doesn’t matter if you thought they enjoyed it, you thought wrong, if not, why are you being visited by the ghost of your former biggest star?! Now it’s time to eat the consequences of your actions in this fever dream. Even Philonune is ready!

“H-Hello, Manager? You’re not busy anymore, right?” The spirit of Debbie floats awkwardly above the bed, she’s slowly floating closer and closer, almost imperceptible to the naked eye, like a bad screensaver that seems frozen after resetting your phone.

“Huh?” Oh no! You only have energy to do random grunts like an NPC outside of cutscenes.

“I-It’s me! Debbie! Y-You don’t seem busy but I don’t want to bother you either way. I-It’s not to say that sleeping isn’t important, it is! And if you’re tired, it’s a must! I-I don’t think I am more important than your sleep either. I’d be really upset if you don’t take care of yourself. Uhm, maybe I should help you doze off to get the point across?” Debbie doesn’t know if she should keep talking or not. “Yeah, that’s it! Johnny, do you want me to sing you a lullaby? Maybe you’re into ocean sounds, ah-phew… ah…phew…” Debbie starts blowing air. “I-It’s almost like I’m whistling like an old teapot, that’s no good. Should I go for a nursery rhyme perhaps? Your ears always perk up when someone starts humming. But I only know 18 of them, I don’t think they’re enough to help a grown man sleep. I got it! A bedtime story! These bad boys can even make a child me fall asleep! Why did I call them bad boys? They’re good boys, they help kids! Should I tell you my personal favorite? Hmm… Decisions.”

Did this ghost forget she was here to warn you about the upcoming spirits? Does she know her role? Your own hallucination wants to make you sleepy, what does that say about you?

What do you do?

>Tuck in bed and wait for Debbie to come to a decision on her own.
>Ask if she died and came to haunt you. You thought she was a nice blueberry…
>Roll over to ignore Debbie.

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>>
>>5979558
>Carmella Camerota.
>Gerard Luther.

>Ask about how Operation Anti-White Flame is going.
>>
>>5979558
>>Ask Fiora if they already got Gerard.
>Carmella Camerota.
>Gerard Luther.
>>
>>5979730
I will support this list.
>>
>>5979828
Anon, I only wrote that up to be organized. I didn't even vote, nor is it meant to be a vote. In fact, I'll vote properly right now

>>5979558
>Carmella Camerota
>Gerard Luther
>Kenneth Dudley
>Odetta Larsen
>Rooke Knightley
>Suan De ‘Slob Dragon’ Rodenhall.
>Tonu
>Trent Figg
>>
>>5979558
Forgot this bit in >>5979831 vote
>Ask Fiora if they already got Gerard

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You are utterly invisible to the naked eye. Only devices or beings able to see in the infrared spectrum could spy you in the world of utter white. Your full-body outfit shields you from the worst of the bone-gnawing cold and is constructed from the pelts of creatures adapted to this hellscape of frozen tundra. Their thick fur and heavy hide insulate you from the snow that you are concealed within. Still, the cold slivers its way through your suit, jealously groping at you with ethereal hands, stealing your warmth. Gaunt limbs rattle and shiver as you hold your silent vigil, waiting for the perfect moment. Your emaciated body appears as ghostly white skin stretched too tightly over frail bones and atrophied muscle; despite your frailty, or maybe because of it, you make an imposing figure with red eyes blazing with purpose and hatred.

From your vantage point, you spot the doors of a shelter sliding open through the magnification of your scope as heat escapes in a cloud of steam. Your stilled heart rate begins to quicken with excitement, and a cruel revanchist grin grows across your ugly visage. You watch three figures languishing by the opening, conversing and smiling. Only their faces are visible through their coats, which, unlike yours, are dark colours to stand out against the snow rather than to blend in with it. All three are Bothans, only their faces are visible, not that you would need to see their faces to determine their species. This world was given to the Bothans to colonise and rule, as long as it stayed loyal to the Hutt Empire and kept supplying the region with the plasma reserves of the planet. For this task, they were gifted thirty million beings roughly a hundred years ago, all your people, all slaves, to toil and die for the extraction of the planet’s plasma.
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>>
>>5978704
>Help her disrobe
Let's send it
>>
>>5978704
>>Help her disrobe
>>
>>5978704
Ill be the voice of restraint. Someone has too, drunk as shit isnt the way to enjoy this.
Maybe detox with a pill or something

>Bid her goodnight.
>>
Good chance I don't update today, feeling tired as all hell.
>>
>>5978704
>Send her to bed
We're dronk & we have business to attend to with the Duke.

You sit on top of your horse, fully armored with shield in hand and wait. Not to far from you, stands your older brother William. He lays your lance across his shoulder, today the roles are reversed and he squires for you. Across the way is your opponents pavilion, he has yet to show himself. Due to special circumstances, he is running late. The longer you wait, the more the nerves start to work away at your mental fortitude. You cannot be blamed for this however, for there is much to be nervous about.It is the first joust of the finals, and an unexpectedly large crowd has come to spectate. It has been an uncharacteristically warm spring and the winter dragged its heels departing. An amateur tournament has given nobles and peasants alike all the excuse they needed to leave their homes. The green hills all around the glade are dotted with blankets and pavilions with more coming by the hour. The organizers have likewise done their best to grow the tournament area to meet the needs of the expanding viewership. Seating for the nobility, stalls for merchants, and of course, the pageantry. A great deal of flowing banners, whimsical instruments, and colorful drapery has been put out over time. Not that you are complaining about it, the truth is that it all makes you feel like a real knight. It is enough to stir your imagination. Transporting you at times to places like the far off grand arena in Midlan. Where a knight can win the kiss of a princess, and the cheers of crowds are deafening. Or so you are told.


"Steady yourself, looks like they are finally ready."
40 replies omitted. Click here to view.
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>>5974281
>-(Honourable Knight) Fredrik. It was your grandfather's name, now it is your name.

We are an honourable Knight in a line of Honourable Knights. It only makes sense to be named appropriately.
>>
No update today, have exam
>>
>>5974878
Good luck
>>
>>5974878
Kick that exam's ass
>>
>>5974281
>(Blackguard Duelist) Sunny. Your mother gave you a name that would bring light into her life.

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It is the dawn of the 24th Century.

A hundred years ago, mankind believe his destiny lay among the stars. But when he reached his hands beyond the heliopause with his first colony ship, he invited calamity into his world. Titans fell from beyond the stars and scored the surface of the Earth. With them came a terrible plague that scientists named the White Chlorination Syndrome, a near certain death sentence spread by salt that fell like snow. Those who fell ill became salt themselves, or else twisted into red-eyed demons that joined into rapacious hordes of marauders ravaging the lands.

Oh, and a fraction of a percent recovered completely, gaining all the powers of those demons but none of the madness that came with the transformation. Those folk received the name Nephilim for the strength of will that it took to resist the Red-Eyes' call.

You are not a Nephilim.

Every kid dreams themself a Nephilim at one point or another in their youth, but times are not so exciting any longer. Baldr Inhibitors keep the sickness in check well enough that outside of the containment zones - areas of a one mile radius surrounding each fallen Titan - no one needs to worry about joining the Red-Eyed Horde. Oh sure, the world lost some of its greatest cities, but the last fifty years have been a time of rebuilding. Things are almost as nice as they were in the late 20th Century now.

Well, except for the army of Red Eyes occupying the entire continent of Africa and the region once known as the Holy Land. Worrying about those places is not your job, so you don't worry about them most days of the year. No way would they send a rookie like you to the Jerusalem front, no.

You work for the YGGDRASIL Organization, the last remnant of the Old United Nations. That means even though you never caught WCS, you get to fight alongside the Nephilim to protect humanity from the monsters that emerge within the containment zones. Specifically, your job is..
>Staff Officer. You assist with relaying orders and managing Nephilim and soldiers on the ground.
>Logistics Officer. You keep the Nephilim who are fighting the good fight supplied with all the bullets they need.

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>>
>>5974888
>Center of the LZ
>Hover and let down a ladder
>>
>>5974888
>Center of the LZ
>Hover and let down a ladder

LZ is cleared and we need the air time to move if there are more hidden enemies.
>>
>>5974888
>>By the entrance to a ruined museum
>Hover and let down a ladder
>>
>>5979424
>>5979513
anons, OP probably flaked
>>
>>5974888
>>Center of the LZ
>>Hover and let down a ladder


SPEED

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Before the green garbed hero arrived, before the princess’s power arise, before the blade of evils bane, before the kingdom of Hyrule waned, there were kings and queens, soldiers and spies, all battling to keep the kingdom alive. They fought the king of evil’s might, but were all cast down into deepest night. Without their bravery no land would there be, for the hero in green to have set free. So come all ye listeners and harken to me, while I spin thee a tale about the heroes in mail. The common solider whose blood was spilled, to buy time for the hero with the iron will.

Previous Threads: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=The+Fall+of+Hyrule

The click and scrape of metal on stone along with occasional grunt of exertion are the only sounds in the tunnel as Jinom and his flanking force crawl through the narrowing passages that lead to the rear entrance of the Bokoblin base. Prince Jinom wipes sweat from his brow and takes another breath of the stiflingly hot tunnel air. Up ahead, the Sheikah lead the way, dimly illuminating the tunnel with a heavily shaded lantern as the slither silently forward. A few more minutes of crawling later, the tunnel opens up allowing the Prince's men to stand again. This moment of relief is cut short, however, as the Sheikah hurriedly snuff out their lantern and hush everyone into silence. In the dark silence, faint snorting can be heard and dim fire light can be seen dancing on the tunnel wall. Jinom's force creeps forward as quietly as it can coming to a halt just before the tunnel bends to reveal the back entrance to the Bokoblins base.

Peeking carefully around the bend Jinom can see a few blue Bokoblin sentries patroling atop a makeshift stone palisade. Below them, blocking the way into the Bokoblin camp is a simple movable barricade made of sharpened wooden stakes. Judging from the lack of a commotion Darbus's Gorons haven't made their attack yet. All there is left to do, is wait, or attempt a little sabotage...

> Send the Sheikah forward to remove the barricades and clear the way for the Prince's men.

>Have the Sheikah attempt to take out the sentries and give Jinom's force the chance to totally surprise the Bokoblins.

>Hold position and wait for Darbus to attack, rather than risk the Prince's force being discovered early.

>[Write In]
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>>
>>5978767

>>5979327
>>5979441
>>5979561

Your Formation Stats:
Power: 4Wisdom: 4Courage: 4Morale: 63/64

Formation:

>Armored Advance: All damage not blocked by defense is doubled for both this unit and its target

Momentum: 1


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>>
>>5979943

Time to strike back, I'll need your rolls gentlemen

>1d5+9 for your attack

>1d4+8 for your defense
>>
>>5979944

Hm, the Captcha was PWN4HW. A sign from the Goddesses?
>>
Rolled 5 + 11 (1d8 + 11)

>>5979944
>>
Rolled 4 + 8 (1d4 + 8)

>>5979944
Defense.

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A world where might makes right. A world of Jade and Gold, of Phoenix and Dragons, of Pills and Talismans, of Martial and Spiritual arts.
A world where diligent training yield strength, meaning freedom. A world where loneliness means death, meaning social chains.
A world still unfair, as the ones reaching the heavens are most likely born rich - be it political riches of the aristocrats, power of secret knowledges and hidden realms of clans, or lucky enough to be born one-in-a-thousand genius.
This is not the case of Quiet Word - that is, (You). This is the case of your friends Dhundan Kepa, the brooding dark intimidating and secretive young boy and Ai, which is stuck too deep in her inner world.
However, you might be one-in-a-hundred genius. The fear of falling behind made you push your boundaries times and times again, leading you to overtake from a slim margin the two geniuses by a combination of luck, hard work, and burn out.
You also motivated the other "gifted but not great" kids - the monkey-bound Yi Norm, the Horse specialist Sin Din and her twin jack-of-all-trade Man Din to follow along.
You have also fairly good relationship with other members of the sect : Kyo Ko, a 11 year old girl extremely secretive of her skills and Bathias, a 15 year old boy that took the role of Hawk Master after the older one got promoted.
Last, Ryota, the Branch Master at the Inborn Realm (Fourth Stage), is personally tutoring you.

In the end, you know a fair amount of technic for such a young cultivator, but your strength lies in the impressive amount of Bonded Spiritual Beasts - A Hawk spirit, a Horse spirit, a Snake spirit and a Wolf spirit.
Speaking of that last one, you didn't told a world about him to anybody. As a scion of the Primordial Wolf spirit, its father warned you of its worth and how people could want to rip it away from you...
You recently discovered that the Hawk Spirit is an embodiment of the mythical element of Growth. Speaking of, you had an unique opportunity to visit the Growth realm, coming back with insights, an unique movement technique and a teapot, hidden in cloth and wore at your belt.
Despite the amount of self-inflicted pressure, you know you're pretty loaded and progressing at a more than acceptable rhythm - having broke through the second of the five minor realms of First stage, the Eye Aperture.

Character sheet : https://pastebin.com/FQqQDEa9

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>>
"Hey Bathias.
- Oh, Quiet Word. You're coming for advice related to your incoming trip? Or you're finally coming for proper guidance?
- No, it's not that. Not today at least - maybe another time. I'm interrested into methods to evaluate one's potential... A master of the main branch ran a test involving captured spiritual beasts and I had an idea to improve on it...
- Yeah?
- And I wondered if we had some kind of string that could work as a link to the spiritual world and physical world...
- That is oddly specific... Hang on."
He leaves you here and there, standing for a good hour - which you diligently spend working on your foundation, before coming back.
"Here you go.
>Obtained Spiritual Thread!
You can bind the spiritual thread to a Spiritual Beast captured in a Spiritual Bead.
For now, you stockpiled the work in progress in your Immortal Cave. You don't have much more time to refine it or presenting it to anyone.
Of course you still need to calibrate your device. And there is that whole matter of fighting and absorbing a spiritual beast you'll have to be wary of.

>Departure to the Golden Skystone Village
Those days have come and pass in a snap of fingers. You're called again by Ryota, which hands you two pieces of papers.

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>>5979659
>Ask how the training has been. Clarify if she is the one that is to act as a backup "Insurance"? If she is then does she want to hang back or act as a subordinate while we distract them through more overt displays of intimidation or actions, like we did in the interbranch games. Establish a signal for trouble.
You know, Plot and plan our approach.

>On our stops, keep an eye out for places, learn names
>>
>>5979659
>>5979707
>support
Eh, why not?
>>
Author blog's :
Sorry for update's delay.
Made the double mistake to buy FF7 AND starting a Pokemon Soul Link with a friend of mine
>>
>>5979659
Woah is she freeloading off our ride

>Ask if she’s done this before and if so, how it normally goes

In a place where everything that can and cannot exist a lone prisoner stands. This ethereal being is the most physical thing in existence save for the twenty-nine chains they have pulled against for eons. A sound rings out throughout reality as one of the chains breaks causing the creature to pause for the first time since it was chained. The chains glow with divine power as the broken chain repairs itself in only a second. However, by the time it wrapped around the prisoner three more chains had broken. The Demiurge continues to break the chains faster than they can repair themselves. The twenty-eighth chain wraps around them once more but not before they grab the last chain binding their maw and rip it off. The chain radiates a blinding level of light yet is consumed in an instant when the captive bites down on it. Another chain attempts to wrap around their jaws but the creature's one head splits into hundreds. The chain binds one mouth but is quickly ripped apart by the rest. As the remaing chains repair themselves they transform into creatures that would inspire awe in even the gods. Soon three such beings stand before them the unbound entity as they consumes the rest of the chains that hadn't repaired themselves in time. A battle occurred between the guardians and their prisoner that would threaten the universe's existence if it existed at the time. Yet in just over half a second it was over. The Demiurge bit into reality causing all that was and wasn't to shake. At first they experienced all forms of pain that could and could not exist as the embodiment of all that was and wasn't tries to make them cease. But once all pain was absorbed their body began to reform. Stone, ice, steel, fur, everything they absorbed became a part of their new form. When they felt themselves beginning to be unmade they released their hold of reality. Due to becoming physical they could no longer exist in this world of concepts and so, the second the Demiurge stopped biting reality it suddenly found itself in the void that formed where all the concepts they had eaten once were. Ichor dripped from the wound on their side that formed when reality tried to unmake them. With a touch the wound instantly healed leaving only another scar among the countless ones they had gained from their previous escapes. "Maybe this time it will let me create in peace." Thought the demiurge as it watched the ichor it had lost begin to take a new shape.

>1/2
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>>5976676
>The Lord of Light would flare in irritation for a moment and address the Fiery Enslaver once more
"If you wish to be King so much, then perhaps you could partake in Creation's design a little bit instead of throwing a childish tantrum,newborn."
>The Light would set aside the carving tools of Ginn aside, making sure to put the pointy and more dangerous looking ones at the forefront(Carving domain).
"This is what I am willing to give you, for I am Lord of Purity and shan't let impurity and filth spread much further. I do not wish for the Empty One's body nor his children now crying out to me to be defiled. Take these tools and go build this castle from which you oh so desire to rule from"
>>
"That's decent tribute for now. I'll grant you the right to the sea's remains."
>Take the carving domain he's offering
>>
>>5976951
Ashkur would respond to the light's remarks. "Yes I plan to exert much control upon the form of this new cosmos, but to do so I need to gather resources. While I may be new the concepts and order they bring are as old as the demiurge himself. Ashkur would extend a hand out to the god of light. "I propose we align ourshelves to eachother as we both understand what it takes to ensure the saftey of creation."

I'm offering an alliance
>>
>>5976336
As Ohr vaporized Ginn they felt great power flow in to them.
>Emptiness offers Shadows, Perfection, and Discipline for free
>Water offers Steam, Travel, and Healing for free.
>>5976974
Ashkur melts the tools in his hand and absorbs them into his skin.
>Carving offers Blades, Torture, and Training as free opitions.
>>
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>>5977069
>As Ohr absorbs the essence of nothingness and water, it begins to compress its lights more and more until it eventually collapses its form into a radiant Kugelblitz, a black hole of compressed light and radiation.A pitch black hole in space emitting an intensely bright light, enshrouded in an accretion disk of swirling compressed steam, casting shadows extending into infinity
>>5976981
>Its mind expands from the new experience, and it gazes at its brother with a new, if nonetheless familiar perspective.
"I would like to think on it, but I shalt not forget thy offer Conqueror"
>>5976729
>With that being said, the newly formed singularity of Light would gaze upon its new charges, and claim the Eclipse Daggers, the Osso with its sibling and the Firnamental Sea with the mortals in it. It held the essence of Water and so the sea would be its own right, its new charge along the stars

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Mobile poster attempting to cobble together a simple civ thread (without letting it immediately die as with other civ threads.) Going to keep it simple as there's already an extremely detailed nation builder on the board atm to satisfy anyone looking for complexity.
>Races are limited to those made out of sticks and stones
>Vote on a race and location, first to three wins
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>>5973107
>Sacrifice Mychel
Its no biggie, Mychel is just doing his part for the natiral cycle, plus the boar is a useful ally this early, this is the beginnings of domestication and a hearty breed at that
>Construct Something
The snuggle dome is a domed structure in which we can all sleep starting off, later on we make other abodes and make the dome into the mush palace
>>
>>5973285
My argument against first anon is he may not be of the Mycelium but with the ingestion of Mychel in his frail state he may be able to rewire the boar especially as this "insane" mushroom walked him over no big deal, I think we should look into this insane fellow more and see if his insanity is more shamanic/druidic in nature
>>
>>5973107
>Convince the insane one to lead the pair into the lake

>Construct humidor
>>
sadge
>>
>>5974952
>op says he'll cont the thread
>starts a super interesting quest
>doesnt

major sadge

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“Long ago, long ago, our world was lush and green. Singers sang and dragons flew, and sorcery and steel were made one…”

In the deepest dark of an ancient metal ruin, eyes of dead glass watched over broken eggs. Lifeless guardians of lifeless wards, eternal in their vigil, they awaited power which would never come. Severed cables wrapped like vines about the metal eggs, cradling their broken shells and the shattered songs within. They would never be heard, never know the sand and seas and skies, never live.

So it had been for ten thousand years, and so it would be forever.

Across the endless centuries, the egg crypt became known to the members of a diminutive and curious people. They took the shape and size of the old masters; tufts of fur upon the tops of their heads, their bodies surfaced softly in pale or tan hues, and possessing four limbs yet standing upright upon one pair and grasping with the other - and none of them were winged. Ignorant, the two-eyes knew little what the ruin once was, and nothing of the egg chamber or its dead machines. They came for salvage, and secrets, but gained little of either - ancient places do not give up such things.

Slowly, even their pestering encroachments became nearly forgotten, swallowed by the sands.

Nearly forgotten, until one of their young returned, pursued by its own kind through the shifting sands. Others fled with it to the ruin, but their pursuers were faster upon the dunes, piloting bounding bipedal machines and plated skimming craft. Only the young one lost its pursuers when it reached the metal fortress, disappearing within the shattered pyramid's depths.

Rushing through the metal halls, it stumbled, fell, crashed, slid, and then lay still.

Crimson fluid pooled from its cracked mask, and poisons leeched in from the toxic air. When its eyes opened again the burning had already begun, the fire, but the shouts of its pursuers sounded from high above. With failing strength it fled deeper into the dark, past shattered eggs and dead glass, through severed cables hanging like vines, and beyond doors overgrown with fungus, until finally it could bear to go no further. It collapsed within a small chamber, quiet and still, beside a large black egg resting in a bed of sand and coiled cables.

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>>5979189
>”The purpose matters not, we go below at once!” Asking was reflexive, all that really matters is reaching your prince! He must be taken from here at once, soon more soldiers will gather and another fight may not go so ‘well’.
It is far easier to carry one prince or corpse than a whole bunch of prisoners.
>>
>>5979189
>”...My prince would wish to see his people freed first, we should see to their escape first.” It pains you to say it, and it will be a terribly messy escape - many will be caught again or killed - but it would be his wish that they be given a chance.
>>
>>5979189
>”Thou art aware of the purpose? Speak, and quickly - we tarry too long here.” Pump the twins for more information, even if it is mere speculation.
>>
One more hour for voting.
>>
>>5979220
>>5979234
>>5979375
>>5979402
Writing.

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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.

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

You are Sir Edmund ”The Crow” Drayton, a recently Knighted Yeoman, the leader of the small monarchist sub faction of the reformists. In an example of extremely effective lighting warfare you've done a great deal to push to the Monarchist capital of Clark's Landing encircling the city and trapping the Pretender and his Heir inside. In an daring plan youve airdropped a significant amount of your men inside the city before assaulting and seizing the palace with your men. Through sheer skill and luck your men were able to take the pretender alive and now you must attempt to convince Prince Elric to order a general surrender or you will have to hold out against his forcers which are converging on the capture palace.

1d100 best of three please
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As you come up to the man, the pistol raised you order him to raise his hands. He turns his head to look at you, still panting surprise crosses his face and his hands dart for his waistband. He begins to pull a large bladed knife from his waist when you deliver a hard kick to his side sending the man sprawling the knife skittering away on the concrete. You shove your revolver into his face keeping him on the ground while you wait for a handful of queensguard to arrive.

Technically speaking your not legally allowed to arrest people but the fact this man was armed and most definitely not a member of the hotel staff means you can make a citizen's arrest until the queensguard takes him into custody. They soon arrive and cuff the man and drag him off to a security room deep in the hotel basement you follow behind to make sure you keep an eye on your captured spy? Moron? Whatever he is.

The interrogation begins quickly with the queensguard quite angry at someone bringing a weapon so close to their queen. The spy starts off claiming he was here to free Ferrovia of monarchs once and for all but after one of the queensguard threaten to throw him off the hotel roof this quickly changes. The man begins to say he was payed a large sum of money to attack any high ranking military officers he could find in the court while screaming anti monarchists slogans. He only knows one man involved in the plot a small time merchant here in Nevefar.

>pass this along to Mr steel and wash your hands of it

>seek outt his merchants yourself with a couple of your boys
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>>5979824
>pass this along to Mr steel and wash your hands of it
>seek outt his merchants yourself with a couple of your boys
But be polite about it. and do inform the queen and our close allies in the court.


>he was payed a large sum of money to attack any high ranking military officers he could find in the court
We were the fucking target weren't we?
Also did we pay back our old merchant friend from the beginning?
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>>5979824
>>seek outt his merchants yourself with a couple of your boys
(I mean, obvious story hook is obvious)
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>>5979842
Youve been shuffling some of the loot your men get to that particular merchant but most noble houses at the start of the war liquidated much of their wealth to arm themselves so its nowhere near the amount he expected
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>>5979824
>>seek out his merchants yourself with a couple of your boys

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You are Uzumaki Shiki, and you’re in a position now that some would consider enviable, while others would avoid with their last exertions. In this room, defended from the outside with a force you’d almost call token compared to its occupants, there are three types of people – village leaders (your mother and the five Kages), their respective chosen adjutants (your sister Makoto, your friend Kōshū, the legendary Uchiha Sasuke, and three others you don’t know as well), and then, of course, you.

And right now, their gazes are all asking you the same question, just in various different ways. Many show some degree of curiosity, along with the calm pride evident in your mother’s eyes. Some, you don’t need to know the person to tell are looks of skepticism. That’s probably more common than you’ve seen, since your name is one many among the shinobi nations will doubtless know without having ever met you or worked with you.

Regardless of their nature, those gazes demand an answer from you.

“I’ve spoken with Delta-san,” you begin. “Both during our fight and since. So…”

“And what’s she given you?” Darui-san asks curtly.

“Darui-san,” Kurotsuchi-san interjects, feigning a smile. “I’d advise you against interrupting any more Uzumakis today.”

“The kid is here to answer our questions,” Darui counters gruffly. “Doesn’t matter what his name is or how fond you are of him.”

“You’ve only met Boruto-kun,” Kurotsuchi-san muses with a smirk. “Shiki-kun and Makoto-kun are… something different. Trust me on this one, they deserve your respect.”

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>>5979082
>1d6 best three of four
>>
Rolled 1 (1d6)

>>5979582
>>
Rolled 3 (1d6)

>>5979582
>>
Rolled 3 (1d6)

>>5979582
>>
Rolled 6 (1d6)

>>5979582

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You are Noel Tiberius di Hazaran, warrior-queen of the realm whose name you share, and formerly a single-digit-ranked member of a nameless Organization which fielded silver-eyed monster slayers. Because of how long you’ve been… well, the way you are, you can understand completely why so many people would be scared to death at the sight of you. Those silver eyes are a marker of something not entirely human, and the golden glow they take on when you’ve caught the scent of one of the monstrous yōma is even more of a giveaway that you’re different.

Those eyes are only ever seen among your own kind, as well as among the yōma themselves.

Fear of the unnatural or unknown is only ever unreasonable in terms of degrees. Even here in your own homeland, where even the most ignorant farmboy would know that their queen-regnant bears the silver eyes of a half-blooded warrior, there are some who are not entirely trusting of you or your sisters. In some places outside the kingdom of Hazaran you’ve even faced discrimination – which may have become abuse had you not been so habitually quick to remove yourself from those communities where you experienced it. You also wouldn’t be the only warrior to have seen abuse directed at people who associated with your kind.

But that having been said… Hazaran is and always will be your home.

Marie-Noelle Lagadec is not Hazari. She’s from the other side of the world entirely, which means that she’s a very long way away from home. And she misses it. Even if she’s been told explicitly that you’re dangerous, you know that you can connect with her over that fact.

“While I was still serving the Organization,” you tell her, meaning the local arm of the same organization whose orders have brought her and so many others here, “I spent years away. Of course I missed it.”

“It’s funny,” she muses, seeming to you on the verge of tears. “I didn’t think I could miss that place. I was so desperate to leave it, and now all I want to do is go back.”

You lean forward and rest your elbows on the table between you. “That’s okay. It’s a natural feeling to have, especially given a stressful line of work – you may not be out there fighting, but that doesn’t mean you’re not under stress. In some ways it may be worse.”

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>>5978916
>>We need your voice, and the equipment to carry it.
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>>5978916
3d10 best of three
>>
Rolled 5, 4, 5 = 14 (3d10)

>>5979588
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Rolled 8, 8, 7 = 23 (3d10)

>>5979588
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Rolled 9, 5, 1 = 15 (3d10)

>>5979588

You are L2 Trollslayer Fiona Jarnafeldt, and you do not love the city you live in.

Helsinki is too sterile. Helsinki is too clean. There's nothing natural about the white metal buildings and black glossy windows, hexagonal solar panels that make up the roads and walkways, the filtered air. When the gods made the heavens and earth, this is not what they had in mind. The artificial world you came to live in was a novelty for some time, but the stuffy plastic smell is giving you headaches. Messing with your mind. You're seeing things. Other than the things you've always seen, at least.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2gYd2byz1VY

It has been about 3 months since you have joined the Stormwatch, a legion of fighters who keep Helsinki safe by driving out the beasts and squatters occupying the stormdrains beneath the city streets. You do this seeking the elevated citizenship status that comes with doing your part, hoping to one day being permitted to hold in your arms a child of your own flesh and blood. There can only be a million souls in this city, one billion on this earth; you want one or two of them to call your own.

You and your compatriots have been on the trail of thieves who intercepted advanced tech being brought to the Stormwatch HQ, and it seems that they have been using it to develop new weapons. Level 3 Manhunter Sigrun Eugen and her student Level 2 Manhunter Saemus Fahy have been trying to find what they can; how the underdwellers are producing weapons, where they are being seen with them, and if there's any loose ends on the surface that would lead to the epicenter of squatters. But as it happens, these things take time. The underdwellers need to make a mistake to be caught. It's only a matter of time.

Recently, you have been assisting the Stormwatch Director's experimental tech program as an equipment tester. In the first field test of a new tool, the Director had you destroy one of the underdweller's main sources of food. This acid-slinging tool is now being fielded and used to dispose of the corpses of massive aberrations all across the stormdrain. Underdweller activity has to be more lively and easily seen by now, surely.

But it has been some time. Perhaps some proactive choices need to be made to get progress. Perhaps things will turn up over the course of your regular duties. Either way, this pallid modern interior of Stormwatch HQ offers you no comfort.
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>>5979514
>Introduce yourself as someone who was referred to meet old Leshy by a naturalist who serves him named Aamu, because your father has done decades of work in the ancient forest where Methuselah works.
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>>5979514
>>Get straight to the point and explain you're here to investigate how so many aberrations keep finding their way into the stormdrains.
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>>5979514
>Introduce yourself as someone who was referred to meet old Leshy by a naturalist who serves him named Aamu, because your father has done decades of work in the ancient forest where Methuselah works
Straightforward
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>>5979514
>Get straight to the point and explain you're here to investigate how so many aberrations keep finding their way into the stormdrains.
>>
>>5979514
>Introduce yourself as someone who was referred to meet old Leshy by a naturalist who serves him named Aamu, because your father has done decades of work in the ancient forest where Methuselah works.

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On the star of Velekam, the small eye of the world god known as the continent Vinstraga, the outskirts of the capital of the Archduchy, Strosstadt in Strossvald, a young woman from nowhere tries her best to sail the sea of fates in a place most unfamiliar to her.

For a warrior woman, more at home in the commander’s seat of a panzer than any household or city street, a life away from battle is not so simple. Where power does not come from strength of body or force of arms, can she still steer destiny to her will?

She must, for a life without freedom to her is no life at all.

This is a drawquest taking place in the Panzer Commander setting. You shouldn't need to know anything about it beyond how the current player character acts like and what she knows, but any questions will be answered readily, to aid in staying in character.

-----
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>>5979700
>>Spit it out. Fucking gross.
I knew it would dribble down her chin but I didn't want to be the guy to say it.
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>>5979700
>>Swallow. It’s food, isn’t it?
NO
WEAKNESS
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>>5979700
>>Swallow. It’s food, isn’t it?
A lady does not spit
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>>5979700
>>Swallow. It’s food, isn’t it?
This is really gross. But cowardice is for the weak.
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>>5979700
>Swallow. It’s food, isn’t it?
Fishsticks


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