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You are a goblin. An irrefutably evil, cruel, disgusting and green creature. Behind your beady black eyes lies no strength of character, no purity, and no soul. You are a disgusting and foul little thing.

Well... that was the consensus surrounding goblins for centuries but amongst the academic world there is an oft-maligned but growing movement surrounding goblin studies. Professor Zolar of the prestigious MIT (Magic Institute of Temporal) conducted an intense field study of goblin tribes and hypothesized that goblins were nurtured rather than born into evil.

To test this theory he would travel to various goblin tribes and slaughter the entire tribe except for a singular goblin child. If the child cried and wailed for the loss of their people and family that means it has empathy. If not, then it's evil.

This simple experiment was conducted hundreds of times destroying entire cultures, languages, and rich oral histories, and vivid traditional art. At the end professor Zolar concluded with statistical significance that goblins were in fact not naturally born evil to great acclaim and received the Nobel prize in monster studies along with great funding.

His next great experiment is to raise a goblin from birth to adulthood and nurture him to be a loving, exemplary, and GOOD goblin/person. He rented out a great mansion, hired innumerable servants, stockpiled nutritious food and recruited the greatest minds of the Imperial Empire for this purpose.

The goblin will be raised like a king.

That goblin is not you, however. Instead you are the hireling of a decidedly less successful, less intelligent, and more scrupulous "rival" professor named Girgga. Girggas was a peer of Zolar as an undergrad but because of his focus on trying (and failing) to pick up Elf sorority girls he quickly got left behind Zolar in grades, internships, and connections. He was left behind and took up an nontenured track position as a professor of introductory goblinoid studies at a crime-ridden, inbred, idiotic party school on the outskirts of the empire called the University of Alabama. And after Zolar had married his Elf crush that was from the same department he vowed eternal revenge.

Once news of Zolar's new experiment came out he had drunkenly proclaimed that he had secretly been raising a goblin long before Zolar and was going to shock the world to the riotous laughter of his peers.

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>>
>>6186946
*good to
>>
>>6186923
Welcome back, and sorry for your luck. The curse is real, I guess.
>>
Yeah nevermind I'm dropping this. Life's hitting me like a truck right now.
>>
R.I.P.
>>
>>6187695
damn, the CBT got him after all,
if you ever start a new one, keep the tag so we can find you again
o7

>you walk into the doctor's office for your yearly appointment
>the waiting room receptionist recoils from you, for you have not bathed this morning, nor worn deodorant
>you awkwardly browse /r9k/ in the waiting room
>after waiting 5 minutes, you are sent to the back. "The doctor will see you now"
>an older, caucasian gentleman walks in.
>"Hi, I'm Doctor Miller."
>you stifle a laugh, he looks puzzled.
>You open your mouth. Your autism cannot be contained.
>"Doctor Miller? More like DOCTOR NIGGER!"
>the doctor looks offended


what do you do from here?
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>>6190016
>try to get a job
Got to pay for our internet and our gacha games somehow.
>>
>>6190016
>Try to get a job.
>As a gym trainer.
Time to put our skills in getting swole.
>>
>>6190355
Support!
>>
You stroll into the gym, and into the manager's office, confidently slapping a filled out application on his desk.
>"I can help people bench press... their feelings" you say, flexing aggressively. "I’ve lifted weights and other things... like, you know, morals."
"Uh, okay, do you have a certification?" The manager asks, arching an eyebrow.
>"I have... experience. And my criminal record."
The manager stares hard at you for a moment. After googling your name he finds out about your incident at the hospital, and he informs you that the position has been filled.

>Keep looking for work in fitness, there's got to be someone who can appreciate your skills around here.
>Sue the gym for discrimination since you were acquitted.
>Look for a different line of work.
>Something else. (Write-in)
>>
>>6191456
>Keep looking for work in fitness, there's got to be someone who can appreciate your skills around here.

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Earth is unified and mars is a thriving terraformed world, most of the solar system has been colonized and several probes sent to the nearby systems. Aliens visited a couple times, but we managed to send a strong message that we are full and don't want them here.

On their visits, they accidentaly taught us faster than light travel after we examined the wrecks of their probes.

We built a spaceshipyard on earth and another on mars and have been buildings and improving upon the design of faster than light ships for a few decades.

The united nations decided to restart the calendar on the year the FTL drive was discovered.

The year is 37 of the Superluminal Era.

You come from a long line of fighter pilots, and you've been granted the honor to pilot a FTL ship.

Your mission is to escort a civilian Colony Ship to a habitable world. There might be pirates, mars saboteurs or even aliens along the way.

You are given the choice between three ships:

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>>6189740
>> Command the CS Ascendant to jettison all illegal cargo into space. Once it's clear, you’ll personally oversee its destruction with a well-placed explosive charge.
>>
>>6189740
> Order the CS Ascendant to get rid of the bioweapons but properly catalog everything else. Some of this technology is too dangerous to ignore, but reckless destruction could mean losing valuable intelligence.
>>
You sit back in the captain’s chair, the hum of the FTL engines settling into a steady pulse as the Aegis drops out of warp. The flashing readouts across the bridge indicate that the CS Ascendant has already begun the process of disposing of the bioweapons, under your command. No time to waste. You grip the armrests tightly, fingers flexing as you calculate the next steps.

Once the dangerous cargo has been jettisoned from the Ascendant, you set the explosive charges, your fingers flying across the controls. The countdown begins, and soon, the familiar thrum of detonation echoes through the ship as the bioweapons are destroyed—rendered space debris, scattered in a fiery bloom across the void. The matter is settled. The megacorps will never know what they lost.

For a moment, you allow yourself to feel the satisfaction of a decision well made. But it doesn’t last.

Within hours, a radio signal cuts through the static. At first, it’s a faint blip, then clear enough to make out a voice—a desperate one.

"Hello, hello, anyone listening? We’ve been stranded on this planet for months now. We need a rescue... There are wild animals hunting us, they are—" The transmission abruptly cuts off, leaving behind only silence.

Your brow furrows. A distress signal. The frequency is old, likely fading fast, and the desperation in the voice sends a chill down your spine. How did they get stranded? And what do they mean by wild animals? Could it be the same xenotech the ESS was keeping secret on board the Ascendant? You didn’t have time to investigate it fully.

You attempt to reestablish contact, but the signal remains stubbornly silent. Perhaps their window of communication is short, and they’ve already moved away from the transmission point.

You have a decision to make. The planet lies ahead, but if you go there, the risk of complications rises. Do you leave your course and divert to rescue these people? Are they stranded due to a failed mission, or something far more complicated? Or do you search the asteroid belts, where there might be more traces of human presence or even the wreckage of the ship that left the signal behind?

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>>6192010
> Set up an automated radio station to send a message to the people on the surface. (If they are still in communication range, you can give them a message and maybe figure out more.)
>>
>>6192010
>> Search the asteroid belts for human presence. (Something tells you the answers might be out there, buried among the rocks.)

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Previously on With Great Power Quest: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=With%20Great%20Power%20Quest
and Rites of the Red Wizard Quest: https://archived.moe/qst/thread/5043544/#q5045606

A million dollars.

It's change your life money. It's fuck you, I got mine money. It's more money than I'd ever seen. And here it was in the palm of my hand, written out on a check with the stamp of a Qatari oil dynasty on it, crumpled up in the corners from totting it around in my back pocket the last couple of hours. There was a lot I could do with a million dollars. But what I was going to do with it?

I put it down in front of Dad. He was sitting at the table nursing a cup of coffee, Carmen having a shower in the back.

"What's this?" he said, then his eyes narrowed. "What's that?" He pointed to the cut on my forearm.

"So you haven't watched the news," I said, sitting across from him. He sucked his teeth before taking a sip of his black coffee. "I did something dumb, but it paid off pretty good. Saved a rich guy's life and well, you can use his money more than I can."

Dad's eyebrows shot up and now he took the check in hand, read it over. Looked back to me.


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>>6192399
Ok yeah then suggest that please
When Remix asks why she can't come in person tell her it's because she's like 8 years old and we can't endanger a child like that
>>
>>6192407
>>6191719
going with this then. hotspur goes alone but with remix in his ear as a guide.
>>
might be gone a couple of days. my brain is mush and I don't know how to fix it.
>>
>>6193310
No problemo
Do something fun
>>
>>6193310
Do what you can to unwind and refresh champ.

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The world is just a series of floating islands hovering on top of an endless abyss, perpetually filled with stormy clouds and fog. There are three main races in the world - humans, whose ingenuity allowed them to build flying machines to traverse the void which aren't always very reliable, elves who invented magical flying ships, the traditional way to get around, and harpies, who just fly from place to place and menace the air travel of the other races, but as a result never developed much technology or magic of their own, relying on their natural abilities.

There are also the denizens of the abyss, a race of peculiar creatures who seem to only exist at night, the light of the sun making them disappear. They are the only ones who can grant passage into the abyss or retrieve items that fall into it.

Ocasionally the storms make creatures from other worlds show up. That is how the humans and elves appeared here. The harpies either arrived first or were always here, and no one knows much about the denizens of the abyss, not even themselves.

Which race do you want?
> Humans
> Elves
> Harpies
> Denizens of the Abyss
> Write in
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>>
Rolled 7, 6, 7, 7, 5, 10, 2, 7, 10, 9, 8, 6, 2, 1, 1, 8, 6, 9, 1, 10, 2, 9, 9, 4, 5 = 151 (25d10)

>>6184252
spend 300 days gathering
>>
Rolled 1, 6, 8, 7, 1 = 23 (5d10)

>>6184483
didn't know dice had a size limit
>>
>>6184483
>>6184484


Reports come that the mists in the outer borders have coalesced into a gigantic humanoid shape, it is wandering seemingly aimlessly through the mists.

> Attempt to destroy the mist giant
> Attemp communication with the mist giant
> Avoid the mist giant and hope it doesn't come your way
> Write in

A strange black rain starts falling on a section of the abyss, it seems to sap energy of all it touches.

> Let it fall harmlessly into the abyss
> Collect it to use against our enemies, at a large expenditure of life

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>>6184492
>Attempt communication with the mist giant
> Hurriedly build a structure specifically to collect the black rain, at a cost of one million lives
> Demand proof or kill him for spreading falsehood
>>
>>6184501

The mist giant eats the denizens we sent to attempt communicating with him. It seems it enjoyed the taste, as it continued eating more and more of your people until it apparently had enough and vanished towards the surface!

-100k Denizens

You hurriedly build a structure to collec the black rain! You now have a Black Pool, filled with black water that saps the energy of anything that touches it!

You demand Rider prove he found the bottom of the abyss. As he is unable to prove it, you and your henchmen grab Lanterns and chase him with them until he is dead! You then consume his energy, a feast for he was ancient, and you feel more powerful already.


Denizens: about 1.9 million
Growth: 10k every night

Sustenance:

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Welcome to /qtg/, a place to talk about quests.
Previous thread
>>6150243

>What is a quest?
An interactive story in which a Quest Master (QM) writes and provides the readers with options on how to proceed — similar to a choose-your-own-adventure book or an old text adventure

Questionably Useful links:
>QTG discord: https://discord.gg/dZavHuK
>Skirmish discord: https://discord.com/invite/DZCVvVU
>Evo Game discord: https://discord.gg/v55Xaaja
>Old pastebin containing advice for QMs:
https://pastebin.com/Z78p8gXf
Badly in need of renovation.


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>>6196795
aaaaaaaAAAAAAaaaaaaa STOP THE FAGSLOP NOOOOW
>>
>>6196818
You read a most disturbing passage.
>>
>>6196780
>why cross the sea in first place? why not just sail down the coast of the old land?
Old land occupied by the great enemy, who would burn our heroes on sight.

>why is this new land unexplored? why has noone from the old land came to exploit it or engage in trade?
Previously there was a great impenetrable storm that prevented people from sailing this far out. But when they fled the old land this storms dissipated all of a sudden.
Or, the land is inhabited by monsters and a people that is hostile to the heroes people. Previously it was just to costly and dangerous to colonize this land.

>why did noone bother to gather this magic dust until now?
This magic dust is highly lethal without special tools to refine it. The manufacture of these tools were a closely guarded secret.

>who do you sell your magic dust to? if it's the new main colony, what about the tone shift from desperate escape into commercial venture?
Smugglers or another nation that is hostile to evil genocidal nation

>what's the existential threat when you can always just board the catamaran and retreat to sea? I know storms or fliers can be a factor but none of these feel definite enough..

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The Pale Inheritance is now live. We're planning our next moves:
>>6178118
>>
After a mini-hiatus, SATQ is back!

Hippomedon has traveled to podunk Trachis, and unexpectedly stumbled across one of the minor athletic competitions of Ancient Greece. But first - who to speak with at dinner?

>>6196858
>>6196858
>>6196858

---

>>6196830

One of the prime regrets I have in QMing is not being able to follow your quests more closely, Moloch - I'll have to catch-up in the archives later...

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The time is ripe! The mortals scattered the relics we gave them, none of the guardians are worthy. Find the relics, build us a temple, place them there and have the mortals worship us again! - says the elder god council

you are a minor deity! the major deities all keep bossing you around

You have 200 points to distribute in your stats

The stats are

Strength
Hability
Resistance
Armor
Firepower

Air

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>>6183423
>but doesn't the option already say they'll be cursed ?

> cryptic glyphs explaining anyone who touches it will be cursed

Its a ruse.
>>
Rolled 4 (1d4)

>>6183591

Summoning the foulest spirits from the plane of pure shadow, you send them out to scout the caves for you.

They find:

1 - a dragon
2 - dark elves
3 - kobolds
4 - the cave is empty
>>
>>6183593


After a long and exhaustive search, the shadow spirits return with the news that the cave complex is devoid of sentient life. The only inhabitants are the giant spiders, the bats they eat, lots of small bugs and a bunch of weird fungi.

(You have 67/75 mana)

> Wait until it is night and send your shadow spirits to scout outside
> Go outside and use earth magic to seal the cave entrance (5 mana)
> Flood the cave with water magic to flush the animals out (8 mana)
> Summon a Tiny Hut so you can rest and regain your mana (3 mana)
> Write in
>>
>>6183597
>Go outside and use earth magic to seal the cave entrance (5 mana)
>>
OP ?

You are still William. Currently framing several mages as arsonists for breaking school property to get the school hall monitors to come and beat their shit in.
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>>6195376
“To ask about your word?”
“Ah a new convert then? One moment, Dispel Magic.”

A pulse of magic emits from the nun as it flows across the floor and William’s body as static clings and searches for magic to break. Feeling no charms or effects nearby the pulse dissipates as the nun lets a serene smile tug at her face.

“Well our coven worships the Sun God Helios that brings the world warmth and wrath to his enemies. Ensuring no one goes without protection or defense and to spread his word to the lessers of the world.”
*Keep her distracted. We still have to move around their alarms.* Chimes in Holly from inside William’s mind
“So you have branches everywhere else?”
“Sadly no. The western and eastern kingdoms do not accept the Helios or other god missionaries. But that is no matter as eventually they will bow to their new gods to replace their heretical pagan beliefs.”
“Is Helios the head god of the pantheon or the main defender of the continent?”
“Hmm, main expansionist that seeks to bring the entire world into their sphere of influence and stamp out the taint of demons. Such breach of dimensions unbalances the natural order and disgusts the gods to see their ancient work be stained by creatures that don’t belong in this dimension.”
“Oh so demons are your enemies so them getting knocked down in the fight must be great for you?”
“Yes but it's a shame that it was Prisma of all things to beat them down. Delusionists that pervert the natural order and only spout lies for their benefit.”
*Okay we are here fireballs incoming.*

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>>6195485
-”What kin-”(Don’t dodge and hope the fireballs don’t hit you)

I'm thinking dodging will implicate Will in the attack which will make him a target. I'm thinking this will make her either guard will if she's serious about converting or we take it and heal later.
>>
>>6195990
First dice Revelation recovery attempt vs two dice of Prisma's ambush and follow up added together.
Fourth dice William dodging the crossfire. DC 25/50/75 higher the better
>>
Rolled 55, 34, 10, 84 = 183 (4d100)

>>6196515
>>
>>6195990
Pressure taps on the back of William’s head as he feels the eyes of Prisma cultists on him as his back tenses from the coming ambush. Taking a quick breath as he tenses up his body to not dodge the coming magic attacks as he wills his body to ignore the danger as his eyes meets the nun’s blindfold. With his mind wondering how is she even able to see and notice him without sight before refocusing on the task at hand.

“What ki-”

A flash of light blinds his eyes as William flinches back seeing a fireball be counterspelled from the nun’s glowing sword as the sounds of glass shatters in front of him. A piercing noise digging into his ears as he stumbles back from the sound of pain as the leader staggers back from the spell as she screams in pain. Feeling the crackle of more spells coming all around him, William's body begins to twist to his side, getting ready to dodge out of the way before remembering Holly’s words. Tensing up his muscles to lock them in place as William falls back first to the floor as he doesn’t move from his position. Knowing he is in the danger zone, he might just walk into the line of fire if he dodge and decides to take his chances by standing in place instead.

Bringing his hands upward to hide his face as he quickly scans the area around him to see the nun leader clutching her head before yelling out as her golden aura flares out. Blonde hair turning even more golden as her magic surges out with her bleeding ears staining the pristine clothes. Clutching her sword till her knuckles turn white as she raises her sword and slams it into the ground piercing the stone floor as her voice booms out.

“IN THE LORD’S NAME, UPCAST 6 SILENCE!”

A heavy burning pressure spreads across the entire floor as William’s breath hitches in his throat as he sees Prisma’s spells continue moving as it lands on the ground near the nuns and doesn’t affect them. Quiet unnatural stillness engulfing the entire auditorium as no sound is allowed into the room as he takes a quick glance toward Prisma to see them all panicking as they can’t speak their spells. Looking back toward the nuns as they remove their blindfolds as piercing gold iris search out for their target as their gazes land on the ambushing Prisma’s. Their sword readied as they got into battle positions while their hands moved in unfamiliar movements as their bodies were launched toward the Prisma teams.

The silent clash of steel on magic robes as the nuns force themselves into melee of the mages as their enemies panic over the the loss of their vocal spells as familiar runes burn themselves along the ground. More rune knights are coming.


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You are Charlotte Fawkins.

Presently, you're in your own home, though it's more broken-down than you remember it. Though you expect you've gone to hell for the inexplicable, unforgivable crime of murdering your own father, you have so far evaded the endless suffering you deserve. Instead, you've promised to help your imaginary younger self locate some keys, so she can follow said father through secret tunnels under your house. You have a bad feeling about all of this.

Lottie isn't ten steps into the neighboring room before she stops in her tracks, spinning on her heel to face you. "Wait!"

You haven't even reached the doorway. "What?"

"You need a weapon! What if the footsteps are a burglar? What if Daddy..." She doesn't finish. "You're tall enough, right?"

"To—"

"To reach?"

You sigh, duck under the cobwebby doorway, and enter the room. Yes, you know what she means: the neighboring room has a fireplace, and a mantel, and a sword hanging tantalizingly above it. You can reach it now, if you apply your tiptoes, but not then. (And if Aunt Ruby ever caught you moving the furniture, let alone handling something so dangerous, you'd be without breakfast for weeks.)

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>>
You nod again.

"They were harvesting Law in enormous quantities for this purpose. I have no doubt about it. From there, I see two routes. One is that they were merely bypassing the Crown. The BrainWyrm was instructed to dominate any individual identified as a suitable chassis for the Wyrm. From there, I'm certain you would have been effectively injected with that enormous reserve of Law. This isn't far off from the purpose of the Crown. The Law plus your suitability may have summoned the Wyrm as planned, but I— I don't know. There's also a ritual attached, and you would've been nowhere near the earth. You certainly would've have to have been standing on earth. So, the second route. Motivation is the same. Instead of summoning the Wyrm, though, they were attempting to create their own Wyrm. To infuse a separate being with such great power it, too, could reach across and grab us. Why you, though?"

"You said I was a winner," you say.

"You are, I assure you, but they wouldn't have constructed an entire plot around you. Before you began mucking around, they couldn't tell you from a monkey. You were a happy accident. Well, an unhappy one, actually, but the point is the same. I don't know what—"

Oh! Oh! You light up. "The goo snake!"

"The goo snake."

"That's what they wanted from Pat! The goo snake! And Eloise said it was a scary prospect, because a snake made of goo could get really big!" You pound the table. "They wanted to infuse the goo snake with all the Law so it could be the fake Wyrm! But they'd still have to make it do what they wanted. I don't know how..."

"Back to the BrainWyrm. It attempted to dominate you. It attempted, while you were in a vulnerable state, to impose a certain thought structure upon you. Certain instructions. Surely these were meant, not for you, but for the eventual goo-chassis. Had you not resisted, I'm sure you would've found yourself attempting the impossible task. For what it's worth, I don't think you would've succeeded." Richard is lighting a second cigarette. "You're a winner, Charlie, but you haven't won. You're not ready. Plan would've been skewered regardless. Still, I can't say I'm not pleased it turned out how it did."

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You nod.

"I haven't the slightest. Remember, Charlie, 6 months."

"You know about other agent things," you say snidely.

"I know a baseline. I know whatever Recycling deems necessary for me to know, because that's what's stuck around. But I— you have to understand, the amount of time I spend in there is remarkably limited. Whenever you see me, I'm here, not there. Whenever you're sleeping, I am there, but I'm sleeping or working or monitoring your vitals. I am not going around rummaging up the history of my people. I don't have time. I spend 80% of my waking hours with you. Do you wonder why my nerves are ground down?"

"You work a lot, so you killed my father?" you say. "That's a really good excuse, Richard. I forgive you now."

"Not that. And it's not a..." He stares into the wafting smoke. "It's the baseline reality of the situation. Do you know, I'm not sure I'm suited for this job."

You scoff-laugh bitterly. He does too. "You've put up with a lot."

Now he tells you. "Do you at least know when it was made? Or who invented it, or..."

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"Because it's the done thing. Are you asking for the given reasoning? The given reasoning is that we are all perfect. And if we are all perfect, we are by extension all interchangeable. So the individual doing the work— there is no individual. There is a role being carried out. I am not Richard. I am not permitted to be Richard. If I was known to be Richard, I would be written up. Actually, I have been written up, so I'd be gone. Back in the wash. I am—" Wow, he's really mad. He's throttling his cigarette. "—Correspondent #314, which is not a name, Charlie, because there have been Correspondents #314 long before me, and Wyrm forbid there will be a long line after. A title, Charlie, not a name. That's it."

"You like having a name."

He squeezes his eyes shut. "Yes, I... yes. I do, in fact. Thank you for providing one."

"You're welcome," you say, and shuffle in your seat, a little uncomfortable. "So what does Satellite look like?"

"It is..." His eyes are still shut. Maybe he's trying to picture it. "It is a very large sphere, hollow on the inside. There are windows lining the inside, so you can see all the way across, and so you can see the BrainWyrm at the center. It looks much like the one you saw, but even larger. Up and down the sphere are floors and floors of offices and workplaces and everything else, all lit up."

"Sounds like Headspace."

"Well, you know who designed Headspace, Charlie."

That's a good point, but you can't tell Richard that, or he'll get smug. "Are there any windows on the outside of the sphere?"

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"To Satellite? I'm not sure what part of 'trapped' you don't get. You can't get in just as surely as we can't get out. Unless..." Richard leans his head all the way to the side. "Unless you were to somehow inhabit my mind. But that wouldn't save your body, and it wouldn't save you from the Wyrm in general. It isn't stupid, Charlie. If It wants you or humanity dead, It'll destroy you no matter where you are."

"Damn," you say.

"I appreciate your outside-the-box thinking, I suppose."

>[A1] Follow up about memories. (Write-in. Optional.)
>[A2] Follow up about Management. (Write-in. Optional.)
>[A3] Follow up about Satellite. (Write-in. Optional.)
>[A4] Follow up about something else? (Write-in. Optional.)

>[B] Interrogate Richard about... (Pick 3.) Side note: I know it might feel like the list is expanding infinitely. You don't have to pick every single question to wrap this up, so don't panic. That being said, I was NOT kidding about those 30 straight posts of exposition.
>>[1] His professional relationship with you.
>>[2] His personal relationship with you.
>>[4] His daily life.

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>>6196786
Damn, Charlie coming to correct conclusions by herself! Is this for the first time in the quest?
>>6196794
>[A1] Follow up about memories.
Why were we such a bitch before our memories got erased, and why did we (comparatively) stop to be?
>[B] Interrogate Richard about...
>>[8] The Pillars.
>>[9] Alterations.
>>[10] Jean Ramsey.

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The deck is silent, despite all the ranking officers—your fellow battle brothers—circled around the holo projector. It depicts the planet that the void ship, Gigante, is closing in on. You can see the speck of it outside the observation deck, above the heads of the serfs navigating the ship. The planet in question was named Serena, a pleasure world, out here on the Periphery. On the wrong side of the Great Rift, on the wrong side of the Eye of Terror.

“We will conduct the Red Tithe here,” the Reaper Prime, captain of the entire company, spoke through an open air vox caster. There was simply no other way for him to communicate, for he was a dreadnought. A massive hulk of armor, a white center flanked by obsidian arms, covered in exile markings, plumes of predators’ teeth around the visor. Armed with melta, bolters and chain-bladed claws, Reaper Nikora has served the Fourth Company of the Carcharodons Astra for centuries. Still of sound mind, his body was torn to shreds by drukhari decades ago.

The Red Tithe meant taking their due. Even on a pleasure planet, there were candidates for new Astartes, new chapter serfs. You recall a tropical world you once called home. A peaceful life among islands, surrounded by blue seas and sky. ‘Even from frail material such as you can come our future,’ the apothecary Whetu had said to you before implanting the gene-seed into your body.

“We couldn’t have chosen a better time,” Nikora said again, his robotic hand making a small gesture. The serf at the holo projector zoomed in on the image. The human population was mustering a defense. It felt strange to think of them as such. They were not men of the Imperium. This subsector had seceded and became the Severan Dominate. Rebels against the Void Father. This Tithe was more targeted than ones in the past, you knew it.

You truly were a shark circling around prey in desperate straits. The projector showed the xenos invaders…

>Vote for one
>Orks
>Tau
>Drukhari
>Aeldari

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>>6183290
They tend to due to their nature and because they are fleet based. Usually anything that is on imperial borders yes

After the Badab War they were given the Endymion Cluster to recruit from, and the homeworld of the Mantis Warriors. Lot of feudal and feral worlds there which works fine for them since... those kind of peoples really dont need much talking to be convinced of giving them recruits and serfs. As you can see they are not really masters of diplomacy, always hunting around wild space the enemies of men does that. It doesn't mean they are super bad at it. They still need to go and talk time to time because they are part of the Imperium and have needs, that their fleets cant produce on his own. And if they managed so far to remain alive and not drop to 0, they can do more than just war which is a requirement for keep a chapter functioning nevermind healthy or prospering.

In this case no imperial planet is near enough, so they will do the Red Tithe here.
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>>6183251
>Edgelord approach: Headshot the old man with your superhuman reflexes, demonstrating the futility of their resistance amidst Space Marines. Ask if anyone else wants to keep trying the diplomatic route. There is no time, the Deldar can show up in this very fucking room at any passing minute! If resistance persists, continue to execute instigators until only the sheep remain. You are an Astartes, you need not take backtalk with non-imperial men, that's lower than even the most cannon fodder of guardsmen.
>Next, secure the previous materials from this palace that could be used either for our own benefit or for bartering with the Ad Mech. The first order of business for the new serfs can be hauling just that.
>>
QM?
>>
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tST30DNvxAo
>>
R.I.P Quest

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Sing, goddess, of thirsty Argos, and of the glory of Hippomedon Aristomachides - sing of the folly of Adrastus, of the savagery of Tydeus and of Oedipal transgressions! Sing, O Muse, of Zeus’ designs, which even now come to fulfillment…
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You are Hippomedon Aristomachides… and you are not impressed. You are dining upon a fair-quality meal, in silence, in the dimly-lit halls of Eurykratides, king of Trachis. Boeotians are said to be an uncultured people – “Boeotian ears” being an insult for men with no grasp of music, as an example – but it seems that even here, the dictates of Zeus are followed. ξενία demands that strangers and vagrants are to be cared for, given meals and lodging, and only once such things are accomplished, can conversation begin between host and guest.

Taking in your surroundings, the “Royal Palace” of Trachis is something of a misnomer – smaller by far than your prince’s estates outside the swamps of Lerna. In Argos, the homes of the nobility are richly decorated with friezes, banners, statues of great ancestors, and more – all reminders of Argive greatness through the centuries. Here, in the halls of Eurykratides, you find the environs both too shabby and too gaudy for your liking. Even the structure of the palace itself strikes you as a bit haphazard – the ceiling in the main dining hall has a noticeable sag!
The banners and rugs upon the walls are embroidered with gold – but are frayed and paled with both age and dust. The statues at the corners of the dining hall are of questionable artistic value; the faces distorted by poor craftmanship and daubed thickly with bright paints...

Eurykratides himself is something of a surprise – you had assumed that a self-styled “high priest of Heracles” might resemble the god he worships. Instead, sitting across from Eurykratides at his head table, you find him to be a short, rotund man of forty years, dressed in robes of deep red; he practically vibrates with nervous energy, his eyes shifting this way and that like a weasel. You find it highly implausible that this plump king might be physically capable – his dark beard no doubt hides cheeks rounder than your daughter’s, and his hands are pudgy like a child’s. He has not yet spoken to you, of course, but you know his type: men who cannot restrain the endless fountain of words contained within. You brace yourself for the inevitable onslaught later, as you take in the other attendees of dinner:

To your left, two giants (one taller even than yourself), and one more man of typical height – all three are stock, muscular and with the damaged ears of wrestlers. The two giants are clearly brothers, with fair hair and beards – their eyes sparkle in the torchlit hall; the mark of divine ancestry. The shorter man is dark in appearance; by his robes, you guess that he is a Cycladian.

To your right, two men dine, each with ox-like shoulders – the younger and shorter has the bronzed skin of Aegyptus, an uncommon sight in central Hellas. The other is a man akin to your height and build; with a broad face, and chestnut-colored hair and beard. You catch his eye by mistake – and the man reacts angrily, scowling.

>cont
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You are confused at first, until you catch a glimpse of the necklace he wears:

A golden harp, studded with jewels, over embroidered robes of white…

Insight comes to you in a flash – his scowling, his attire - he is a Theban prince! You hear a strange noise; your right hand is suddenly wet – wine dripping through your fingers onto the table; you have crumpled your golden goblet. The tension between you and the Theban nearly ignites the air – the Theban grips the table with both hands, clearly ready to stand and fight, but ξενία now binds you, as guests. You cannot attack the man now that you are guests in the house of Eurykratides; speaking of, you now better appreciate the king’s nervous energy – he is terrified that two of his guests might strangle each other in his home and bring down the wrath of Zeus on all present! You each are frozen in place – and so are the other noblemen at the table, all now aware of the stand-off. But your good upbringing wins out - you take action to dissuade the man, shaking your head subtly, and then nodding to terrified Eurykratides. This gesture is sufficient to convince the Theban that you will not attack him - not here, at least. He nods in reply; satisfying himself with a glare in your general direction before resuming his meal warily; the tension dissolves away.

At this moment, Eurykatides stands and begins a short speech, nervously clearing his throat:

“Welcome, men! Welcome, competitors…”

As you predicted, it's mostly a phenomenal stream of extravagant promises about the rich prizes (doubtful) to be won in the upcoming athletic competition, with some truly delusional statements about Heracles himself watching with interest from Mount Olympus... In truth, he says nothing really of note, except to congratulate each of you for making the journey to Trachis – he assumes that you will be participating. As he makes conversation with each of you in turn, you learn that the other men are:

The brothers Halocrates and Nicodromus (fraternal twins, as it happens) - despite their youthful appearance and boyish demeanors, you learn that they are older than you – sons of Heracles himself by way of Olympusa, daughter of Thespius, they have traveled from their colony on Sardinia to win fame.

The Cycladian is Dadaces, a minor nobleman of Naxos – a laconic personality, he reveals only that his estates are known for producing fine sheep.

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But no – you cannot bring yourself to do so; it is madness to invite Zeus’ attention this way. Now that the introductions are over, you have a chance to speak with one of the men present, if you so choose:

>Speak with sons of Heracles, Halocrates and Nicodromus – you are curious to learn of their travel from far-flung Sardinia.

>Speak with laconic Dadaces, to learn why he has traveled from Naxos.

>Speak with King Eurykratides – now would be an opportune time to ask him about the thief’s ring you obtained during your Tegean raid. In addition, you might clarify whether you intend to participate in these "Oetian Games".

>Speak with the Aegyptian – although, communication with the man might be challenging.

>Speak with Hyperbius, man to man – you must determine whether you can (or should) come to some peaceable accord before the end of the night.
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>>6196858
Dadaces could be an Olympian or another of their ilk in disguise.
The Aegyptian is quite interesting, but I don't see much being intelligible between us.
The sons of Heracles would likely be quite interesting to speak with, but conflict may arise due to Argos & the Dorians. Then again, perhaps the brothers may be inclined to ally against their distant ilk.
The king offers nothing.
Hyperbius & ourselves are clearly too at odds to speak fruitfully.
Thus:

>Halocrates & Nicodromus
>>
>>6196858

>Speak with sons of Heracles, Halocrates and Nicodromus – you are curious to learn of their travel from far-flung Sardinia.

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Your grandfather was a king, your mother a queen. But no one expects much from you. Your grandfather, the Mad King, with his even madder queen, brought his kingdom to such an intolerable state that his own peasants stormed his castle (with the aid of some enterprising foreign barons) and set his head on a pike. With his queen they did you know not what. No one speaks of it. The historians and archivists did not deem it fit to record that particular atrocity in their scrolls, though they gleefully recorded the despoiling of the Mad King's heir, your mother, by the leader of the rebellion, Walter Stonecutter, a peasant, a soldier, a king by marriage, and your father.

Your mother was slain two nights ago by the errant arrow (or perhaps not so errant) of a coalition of rebellious barons. They who once trembled beneath the gaze of your demented grandfather (your bloodthirsty, short-tempered grandmother they avoided altogether) besieged your castle, broke it, and fearing the reprisal of foreign kings and civil war, did not go any further.

And so, as the eldest son of five siblings, at the ripe old age of 14, with your parents slain by the same men who lie at your feet, swearing eternal fealty, you have inherited the throne.

Already, they refer to your mother with the sobriquet of the Unfortunate. Only time will tell what they will call you.

As for your character:
>You have very high standards, expecting perfection from yourself as much as you do from others
>You seem to inherited your grandmother's looks, particularly her ice-blue eyes. You've been given a wide berth for this, leading to a lonely life
>You were the king in your own mind even before you were crowned. You will not let what happened to your parents and grandparents happen to you. And that will require a firm hand.
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>>6190052
>Recruit a task force to investigate these killings and locate and capture their source.
>>
>>6190052
>Recruit a task force to investigate these killings and locate and capture their source.

On the topic of succession, given our poor family relations and inability to have a child, can we look at adoption…? Was very common amongst Roman Emperors
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>>6190052
>Recruit a task force to investigate these killings and locate and capture their source.
>>
>>6190052
>Recruit a task force to investigate these killings and locate and capture their source.
>>
>>6190052
>Recruit a task force

>Use this as a filter, to shiv the the chaff from the wheat. We wish to find an heir, who is intrepid and canny, but bold and level headed. And if they bring the source to heel, they will have the popular support needed to be raised to princedom

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Last time, you tied up the final ribbon to the Prison Break mission, reunited people, talked to friends and allies, and left on a high note to rest at home with your bestie by your side. From that, one thing led to another and you find yourself with your friend visiting your favorite neighbor to relax with. As you were helping them get to know each other, an interesting undisclosed topic was brought up that changed the shape of the conversation. One, you weren’t aware hadn’t been discussed yet!

You mentioned that Ajna will be a vibrant trumpeter!

“Crossbill, you know this amazing girl over here is going to become an idol?” You place your hands on Ajna’s shoulders. “She’s part of the agency I’m building and all!”

…!!!” Ajna looks surprised to be thrown into the spotlight.

“That sounds swell!” Crossbill is more optimistic than you give her credit for. “Why the hell do you have an idol agency…?”

“Woah, Ajna is going to do WHAT?!” Craig is flabbergasted.

“Play the trumpet.” You pantomime it.

“Ooh! I can tell. I bet she’s good.” Crossbill points at the trumpet decoration on Ajna’s blanket.

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>>6192346

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1EDcrsoLq9HS_ePpjlR9ntLdeZtJ-e3eWYbnKZbcFoyA/edit?usp=sharing
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>>6192347

[Spoilers: You fucked Ruby! Congratulations! ]

That’s all we have for this thread, thanks for playing! And see you next time! (We will take 2 weeks of hiatus.)
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>>6192348
Nice, thanks for running!
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>>6192348
Thanks for running
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>>6192348
Thanks for running, have a nice rest.

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The Steelwood.

It’s name might sound like some ‘exotic dancer’ in a Hawksong Red Lantern girl-bar, but it’s not. Rather, it’s a realm on the eastern edge of Hawksong’s political sphere, characterized by a longstanding conflict between mongrel tribes of Man, Elf, and Orc, which have bled into genealogically each other even as they bleed each other on the battlefield, shedding weapons and armour in woodland skirmishes for so long that the rusted remnants have given the place its name. Though it exists now in a fragile state of stalemate and ceasefire, two adventuring parties have entered the area on a mission related to a ore ancient empire than the current clashing clans: that of the dwarves, or Dwerrow, whose ancient ‘megastructure’ lies abandoned, hidden among the hills.

The Delvers a band of little folk employed by the dwarven corporation ‘Treasuretrove Incorporated’, have in their turn taken on the services of the so-called Monstrous Regiment, a newly-founded enterprise helmed by Zena Youngtree and her companion, Cara—really, a pair of strange soul-sisters named Zith-Zi[/ed] and Cara-Zi, once a single succubus-tainted goblin-girl, and now an odd couple if ever there was one. Harkening back to their outcast origins, they allied themselves with the Steelwood’s orcish denizens, a bandit-band of murdering, misogynist marauders who nevertheless provide the most reliable (well, manipulable) muscle around, and ask the fewest questions.

(Unfortunately, one of those questions was “what’s in it for us?”, and Zith-Zi had been forced to answer “a powerful magical weapon that can dominate or destroy your enemies,” but there’s always time for a double-cross if it comes down to it…)

Insincerity aside, the local orcs lent the aid of two of the chieftain’s half-human heirs, a potion-producing ziran witch, and a teenage simpleton with a penchant for whittling wood into savage spears. Added to the crew of Delver dweebs and the Zi’s crew of goblins (and goat-girl), it made for a fairly well-balanced assembly of adventurers. It was, at the very least, sufficient to slay or scare off the sword-stepping spider-freaks which assaulting their camp in the dead of night…

Freaks which, it turns out, are some strange breed of fucked-up fairy, the mutated brood of a creature call an ‘Ettercap’.
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>>6195977
>>6195989
>>6196162
“No time to waste, and you all know the adventurers’ motto, doncha’?”

In response to the sea of blank, most-often grey-and-tusky faces, you clarify: “ ‘Loot what’s not alive, pry open anything that’s not well-locked, and collect every coin you can carry!’ ”

You look towards the other pods and add with a tut: “And they ain’t dead, not exac’ly, an’ they’re pretty well-locked.”

It’s true: opening up the single gem-egg-pod took what might well have been a half-hour. It was WORTH it, don’t get you wrong, and time well-invested. Without these magic items, you might not be able to DO anything about the Ettercap when you reached it. But even so, you wanted to reach that Ettercap while everyone was still alive and un-freakified by the dread fairy’s malevolent magic.

Speaking of those items, though, you distribute them quickly among your party. You’re only too happy to par with the radiant saber—or ‘rad-saber’ as you took to calling it. Sure, as long as you don’t touch the blade or get it turned back upon you, it’s technically SAFE for you to wield, but… Well, you didn’t feel COMFY around it, okay? It gives you a queasy, dick-climb-back-up-inside you feeling when you light it up and extend its glimmering positive-energy blade. You offer it to whoever can wield it best, and while Oodagh makes a missed swipe at it, the chieftain’s kids play an Orcwilds gambling-game with their fingers for who will ACTUALLY get to the magnificent magic weapon that their chieftain was promised. Murbal groans and throws up her arms in defeat as cleverer Xuldor accepts the cylinder thanklessly.

Xoldur gains: Radiant Saber (2d3+1 radiant damage)
Xoldur’s Morale: High


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>>6196607
As for the rest, you have timid Taito carry the ‘cube of holding’ for you like it’s your purse and he’s your beau—or, more accurately, your servant-boy. It’s kind of nice, actually, though you’re not about to tell Taito that. After all:

>You’re more interested in Dura right now…
>You’re still pining after Martyn Meadowgrass…
>There’s someone else you’re interested in… [who?]
>You’re embarrassed by how much you actually DO kind of like having Taito at your beck and call…

And as for the knight-in-shining-armour, well, YOU’RE taking the armour, obviously. After all, it’s FITTED armour, and YOU’RE the only one who can fit yourself to it with the ability to shift shape. Though that leaves you with two questions…

Wear the armour now?
>Yes [-1 MP to shift shape, +1 AC, -2 to all damage taken, and gain additional spell-resistance]
>No [Keep 2/3 MP, allowing a second spell or an upcast in the battle(s) ahead]

And what will you do with the man who was in that shiny old tin can? You don’t have time to wake and interrogate him now, but what is to be done with the ‘goblin knight’?

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>>6196607
>“We’re good. Shit happens in a dungeon.” [+Good inclination]
>>6196608
>You’re more interested in Dura right now…

>Yes [-1 MP to shift shape, +1 AC, -2 to all damage taken, and gain additional spell-resistance]
The only problem would be it slowing us down, but that doesn't seem to be the case

>Stuff him in the cube
Surprise item
>>
>>6196607
>Write-in
>"You get ONE chance at redemption, don't blow it." Neutral inclination?

>You’re still pining after Martyn Meadowgrass…
+
>You’re embarrassed by how much you actually DO kind of like having Taito at your beck and call…

>Yes

>Stuff him in the cube
lmao get cubed nerd
It's cube time for you
>>
>>6196607
>>Write-in
>>"You get ONE chance at redemption, don't blow it." Neutral inclination?
>>6196608
>You’re still pining after Martyn Meadowgrass…
>Yes [-1 MP to shift shape, +1 AC, -2 to all damage taken, and gain additional spell-resistance]
>Stuff him in the cube
Of course, we need to regularly open the cube to give him some fresh her, totally not metagaming the usual "one hour of breath time in a bag of holding"

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The man known as Marik shook his head, eyes blinking.
“We have a confirmed nuclear detonation on force Center.”

“I can see it, Nero.”
The visual feeds had corrected for the flash, filtering and darkening it so that he could look upon the growing cloud.

His second was already pushing the command mech back to its feet, standing it again as an elite pilot does.
Not in the first wave, only an idiot leads directly from the front, but his position in the third wave, the reserves, was carefully planned for.

He could bring them where they were needed most, to drive forwards wherever the push had faltered or where a weakness had been sighted.
Or more realistically, wherever the hell his best guess was, if everyone was operating in the dark.

Though that darkness had just lifted with an enormous flash.

He had watched Kinston’s superheavy stagger beneath concentrated firepower right before the Plaza of Heroes, before returning fire and charging into smoke. His attention had wavered after then, but add to that the proximity of the Senate building, tantalizingly close, and the bastards in power proved again that there was no line they wouldn’t cross in order to try and crush his rebellion.

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>>6182811
Put Gamma’s current pilot where Athena is, put Athena in the center, and shift Query into the open spot. Gamma’s pilots are far more interchangeable since she’s easy to work with, Athena is a computer system both sides likely have, and Query was made by Beta so we’ll use that as justification to make Query less neutral by dragging it to his side.

Shove Armstrong into Beta’s spot and shift Beta and Kinston up a spot to fill the last hole. Call it MC privilege, Beta gets to be more important than the other (non-Alpha) cores. He IS better than them, too. Proved it in the simulators and everything.
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>>6182037
>Laser comms to punch through jamming
support
>>
More like core of DEAD
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>>6188951
I'm not saying no, it's a good idea, but that's actually not what I meant. I was pointing out that Gamma was smart for having preemptively adapted to the fact that Beta regularly uses the Predator Jamming System by relying on laser optic based communication rather than radio or signal.

>>6188979
pic related
>>
It's okay brothers, QM will return, as he always does, be it a week or a year from now.


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