File: vikings.jpg (278 KB, 640x960)

278 KB JPG

The storm has finally subsided. Of the dozen or so crewmen only six remain. The rest, including your aged captain, were swept away by the waves. As the second-in-command, and moreover, as the brother of the deceased captain, the men now naturally look to you for leadership. Though it is something you have dreamt about all your life, the loss of your brother leaves a bitter aftertaste. He was a hard, taciturn man, slow to laughter, but of cool temper and always fair-dealing with his crew. You hope to live up to his example.

Speaking of the crew, it is clear they are in poor spirits. The suddenness of the storm and the magnitude of the destruction left in its wake have rendered them mute and listless. The karve, at least, is still yare and true. There was a small rent in the sail, which you will need to fix or replace the next time you're ashore, but the spare is working beautifully. The clouds have torn apart to distant clumps and there is a fair wind blowing from the east.

Most important, the cargo and provisions are still fully intact. One of the morbid advantages of a reduced crew is that you can go quite a ways before needing to resupply.

\ooD==/
ship diagram key:
`D` is the sail
`o` is a full barrel of provisions, which feeds a dozen crew for 2 TURNS (double that for <8 crew)
`=` is other trade goods (TBD next post)

Your orders, captain?
>"To Langholmen, to rest and recover awhile." Langholmen is close by [2 LEGS] and returning home for repose is sure to improve the crew morale [SHAKEN->>CONFIDENT]. Though it does mean delaying the unloading of your cargo, which comes with its own troubles.
>"To Fjordheim, to dispose of the cargo." Fjordheim is your brother's former port of call. It is a large and populous town where anything can be bought and sold for the right price, though it is a bit distant [3 LEGS].

Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.

File: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure-(...).jpg (553 KB, 1000x629)

553 KB JPG

This is a story of lineages and organizations, of ill-defined martial arts and misremembered facts, of supernatural species and out of context foes ,of absurd abilities and gaudy outfits, dead dogs and inhuman parasites, non sequiturs and evil ubermensches, of continental treks and last second ass-pulls, intrigue and befriending (the nicer) enemies, of poorly utilized powers and mobsters of varying morality, of well-laid plans and the machinations of fate, of regaining what was lost and empowered tyrants, of amnesiacs and conspiracies, of delinquents and fortunes, and more..

But foremost, this is a saga of the conflict between good and evil, light and dark. Of the will to protect and better oneself, and the will to subjugate and destroy. Of repugnant villains and the chivalric heroes who oppose them. The story I am about to tell is but a sliver of the whole of this quest, this odyssey, this… adventure.

The year is 1960, November 3rd. It is a Thursday. This is when we will start our story, but first, a few notes.

It is 955 AD. A woman whose name would translate into “Carved Tusk” from what would be later known as the Dorset Culture, in northwest Greenland, develops what would later be known as a stand, after drinking water that collected in the divots of a sacred meteorite. Translated, it would be known as「Song of Turning and Spinning」.Taking the form of a humanoid-seal scrimshaw figure, it would allow her to swap the souls of items, people, and animals, making bone as flexible as leather, leather as hard as bone, making snow animate with human movement, and humans as easy to break as snowmen. It is 960 AD, after defending her people from Thule invaders, she perishes after killing 100 enemy soldiers. She is the first Stand user in History to name their stand after a musical reference.

In 1031 AD, Vikings fled settlements in what they referred to as Vinland, after the quantity and quality of grapes found there. This is due to attacks on the settlements, not by the native peoples referred to as “Skraelings” by the Vikings, but by a Mesoamerican Vampiric Lord. After stealing the face of a native wife of one of the colonists, she makes her way from Greenland, to Iceland, to Norway, bringing with her a quantity of stone masks. Hoping to escape fierce competition from other vampires in the new world(unbeknownst to her, there are also vampires and stone masks in the old world), she is defeated thanks to the efforts of a party consisting of a Tibetan monk, a Swedish Berserker, A Norman Noble, A Fatimid Scholar, a Kara-Khanid Archer, and several dozen helpful, precocious children. All of these individuals learn Hamon from the monk, (save the sidekicks) and do some whacky shit with it.

File: shitpostone.png (189 KB, 928x715)

189 KB PNG

You are an ONI! A fierce mythical deman! You are ONE second old! Yep, you just came into being right here right now. Yet some how you are not only fully grown, but you understand what you are. Along with what the world is, language, concepts like gravity, and even the birds and the bees! wow! What will your first action be on this bitch of an earth?

>What do?
- Contemplate how you came to be
- Declare your dominance of earth land and sea to the heavens!
- Find a big stick to use as a club
- Become aware of your surroundings
- Write in

File: AlteracOP.jpg (44 KB, 462x567)

44 KB JPG

Ten years ago King Aiden Perenolde betrayed the Alliance and sided with the Horde of Orgrim Doomhammer. Nine years ago Prince Alric Perenolde, the second heir of Alterac was sent into exile for his own protection. This exile turned permanent and Captain Normand Garside, your guardian for the past nine years made sure that you were safe and learned the useful skills that would help you in the future.

Now you are ready to carry the responsibility and unite the scattered Alteraci people and reclaim the lands that were once the Kingdom of Alterac.

Having returned from the Kingdom of Stormwind and the Alliance Meeting, you welcomed the peace that was in Dawnholme. Sure there was a lot of paperwork and other small things to do, but all that could be handled. Most importantly you got to be with your family and didn't have to worry about every single thing.

Though your life is anything, but boring. Contacted by Thrall, you set out to meet him. Instead of just him, you were roped into meeting some of the most notorious orcs of the Second War. Drek’Thar of Frostwolf Clan had called Grom Hellscream and the former Warchief Orgrim Doomhammer to join him. It was made clear to you that they would act next year with a goal of rescuing and freeing those held in the Internment Camps.

As the autumn meeting arrived, first it was Lord Falconcrest who interrupted you, bringing a warning to not meddle with the Syndicate as the truce is in play. And now you are meeting someone whom you haven't seen in a long long time.

Welcome to Alterac Resurgent Quest!

…

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MedivhQM

Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.

File: Hands of Thaleon.gif (1.35 MB, 400x222)

1.35 MB GIF

Searing hatred, frigid darkness… the sins festering your soul should have condemned you to oblivion along with everyone else you loved and cherished and yet these fickle parameters that defined your essence were anchored to something more tangible. You could feel your own heartbeat in the great void that had successfully muted your other senses until now, a crack spreading like all directions around you…. the faint smell of freedom?

Crash, thud, pitter-patter… a solid ground made from shattered dreams. Your reflection… failure . You had no reason to manifest after what you have done. Existence, heavy breathing, limbs too fragile to support your adult body….you were naked and afraid from the sea of nothingness surrounding you. You had no choice but to crawl towards the unknown away from the artificial womb that had given you a second chance in life, if you could call your pitiful existence a life worth living. You should have died long time ago with the rest of your timeline

“That’s it my little Fluxxer or should I call you my little Exile? , come a little closer to Uncle Thaleon . Don’t be afraid, I am perfectly sane now for the sake of our next little game.” A disembodied hand beckoning you. A beacon of dread in the vast emptiness of this purgatory…you were drawn to such vileness whether you liked it or not. You…
who were you?


>Aoi Takahashi [Thaleon Counter: High, Fluxxing Distance: Short, Q-Clot gain: Medium]
Exile background: Overwhelmed by her duties as a Fluxxer , Aoi was unable to even reach the first of four waves to oblivion dooming many timelines due to her sheer incompetence. Truth was, it was hardly her fault… her sole enemy was time and time only. Thaleon had taken interest in her forcing him to save her from such fate.
Alpha Skill: Every combat encounter increase overall ATK by 10%, Every non-combat encounter increase overall Q-Clot by 10%

>Kumi Kurasugi [Thaleon Counter: Low, Fluxxing Distance: Long, Q-Clot gain: Very Low]
Exile background: Perhaps one of the few Fluxxers who pondered about whether Erebium was edible or not. It started with a few strips of immaterial flesh before the self-proclaimed Unborn gourmet would lose herself entirely. Amazed by her depraved gluttony, Thaleon would keep her one for something far more entertaining.
Alpha skill: Special action in RESPITE encounter (Cook Unborn parts), Bosses take extra damage depending on the number of cooked Unborn.

Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.

File: knightofthethread01.jpg (57 KB, 800x600)

57 KB JPG

The royal palace proclaimed that the value of a knight is by their strength and valor.

The stronger becomes the victor and the weaker is the loser. Fame and wealth, land and love, naturally they are rewarded to the winner who has the better guts and muscle! Who has an excuse when God decides that they fall over their horse's crupper?

That is the rule of the world. And it goes the same for one of the weakest of knights, Hystult.

* * *

Hystult, young and green, and championing an impressive 0-99 lose-streak throughout his knighting career so far. Ouch!

Those with franchise grimace at the record. Serfs and freemen can understand that that isn't something to be proud of either.

But look on the bright side. Bigger and bigger losses only means a huge break soon, right?!

Spring has come. The royal palace has proclaimed a tourney in celebration of Pentecost. Saved or Saracen, anyone can attend if they're no brigand! Visitors are to convene at Paris for the great festivities.

Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.

File: IMG_0120.jpg (59 KB, 255x396)

59 KB JPG

“My lord, we have nearly arrived.”
Your navigator said as he pushed away a holomap. You looked through the viewport as the warship traveled at warp speed through the empty void of space. It had taken months to traverse the void between Andromeda and the old forgotten Milky Way, but it would be worth your while. A long time ago humans occupied all habitable planets in the galaxy, before a galactic war nearly wiped out the human race. The survivors built up new civilizations from the ashes, some barbaric, barely scraping sticks together to make fire. Others had recovered and built civilizations of their own, but far from the ability to travel between stars faster than the speed of light.
Ever since the first discovery of another distant human civilization, a lucrative business has sprung up, the Viking Raiders. We took the name from an old civilization on ancient terra and made it our own. The Space Vikings visit planets for one reason, profit above all. Precious metals, water, oil, slaves, all were free for those with the strength to take it.
“My lord, we’ve arrived at the Milky Way. We have multiple targetable planets that might be of interest. We can detect their radio signals ”
>Shamash: Strong radio signals detected, indicating a high level of tech. Old references indicate there were military bases and fortresses here back when they were in the galactic federation
>Parvati: Weak strength of radio signals detected. Whatever signals they did send must be local in nature. Old references indicate it was an ice world rich in resources under the ice.
>Adad: No radio signals whatsoever. Old records describe it as a world where farming and lumber were the main industries, but there’s no telling what could have happened here the ecology could have been destroyed in the war.

File: eye of thaleon.gif (202 KB, 540x320)

202 KB GIF

Disemboweled, ripped, flayed and scorched…your torment was eternal. Was it divine punishment? Was it the Unborn? It mattered little for you were forever stuck in this samsara of suffering. Above your head was a bubbling pot of molten nightmares which were moments away from obliterating you for the umpteenth time. For one reason or another, the nightmares above would freeze in time. After literal eons, your torment had come to an end…why?

Before you knew it, the hellish scenery of fire and brimstone around would shift to a bed draped in unseen opulence and lavish interior. The blisters and scars on your face were no more while your body was provided with all colours of comfort you could think of…even a partner who was tailored to your deepest desires. All of this was of course a façade meant to lull you into a sense of security.

“Such a buzzkill! And here I was trying to make amends for tormenting for my own amusement, little Fluxxer or should I call you my little Exile ?” A giant eye would scorch all of this illusion with a single gaze leaving you suspended in the void, your naked body would regrow countless suits of skin throughout this one sided conversation “Can’t remember me? I am Thaleon, a personified timeline… kind of, long story really. I plucked you out of your eternal damnation to play a little game of conflict, love and betrayal…Let’s hear your name, Exile? can you still remember it? fufufufu~”

>Summer Kissu [Thaleon Counter: None, Fluxxing Distance: Very short, Q-Clot gain: Low]
Exile background: An idol who thought humankind and Unborn could live in harmony together. Her naïve idealism would eventually cause the downfall of her timeline. Before death would claim her, Thaleon would add her to the collection of peculiar Fluxxers.
Omega Skill: Cosmic Fame replaces Thaleon Counter, all actions will either increase the number of Kissu Missu fans. Tiered bonuses, if Cosmic Fame count reaches zero, it will be game over.

>Sato Kenichi: [Thaleon Counter: High, Fluxxing Distance: Medium, Q-Clot gain: Medium]
Exile background: Unable of breaking free of the Mimicker possessing his soul, Sato would commit heinous acts Hiyori Matsui, another Fluxxer, dooming his timeline with her eventual death. Suicide was not an option for Sato for he was quite the peculiarity for Thaleon.
Omega Skill: Can optimize certain encounters for better rewards, fewer enemies..etc. If Hiyori Matsui is present in party, her Mecha will be immune all damage until Sato’s Mecha will be in CRITICAL health threshold.

File: Black Company Quest Cover.jpg (396 KB, 1800x1197)

396 KB JPG

“The Krieger Corp is the life for me,
A gun, bed and funeral for free.
That’s my lot in the Black Company.”

It took the Earth 10 long years to die. Like every planet afflicted by the pervasive sentient plague that swept the galaxy at the turn of the 23rd century, aptly named The Rot, Earth’s demise was slow and agonising at first then violent and sudden by the end. The seas boiled and the air turned to ash in the wake of the continent-shattering orbital bombardments that cleansed her and a hundred other worlds.

20 years later, the dust of the Purification Wars has settled and the surviving xenos empires have finished carving up the remaining colonies of those less fortunate races between them, including those few left from Earth’s initial phase of expansion. Just rewards for the victorious alien’s part in saving the galaxy. The surviving human population, once many billions, now numbers in the mere millions. An entire race of refugees, vagrants and backwater outcasts begging, stealing and labouring as second-class citizens, servants or slaves under uncaring alien masters.

A lifetime of backbreaking work for stale recycled oxygen units and a handful of credits is the best fate most humans can hope for. Little wonder then that the violent but lucrative life of a mercenary holds such appeal. As the novelty of peace wears off and the rival alien nations rattle their sabres once more, human mercenaries are in high demand for their crude effectiveness and affordable prices.

And of all the human mercenary firms, there are none so infamous and so highly sought after as the services of the Black Company…

=============================================

Twitter: https://twitter.com/BlackCompany666

Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.

File: title.jpg (24 KB, 512x512)

24 KB JPG

Your orders from the local lord are simple:

Reclaim the wasteland and turn it into a productive farm.

File: You.png (1.1 MB, 928x928)

1.1 MB PNG

The world doesn’t care whether you’re ready. The Dungeons certainly don't.

File: Thread5.png (376 KB, 600x600)

376 KB PNG

Previous Thread: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2026/6358836/

First Thread: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6212686/

>Your party goes on a tour of a spooky mansion.
>Your group finds a meth lab, also the anomaly
>You return to base, and eventually find your tour guide was turned into a zombie.
>It's the weekend!
>Time to go shopping!

File: Header.png (5.93 MB, 1433x2000)

5.93 MB PNG

6 Years after the Emperor's death at Endor, the once unstoppable Galactic Empire has been shattered, left as WARLORDS prowling the galaxy, Squabbling over the remains of a dying system. Rapidly sweeping in is the NEW REPUBLIC, who have liberated the core, and brought back peace to many sections of the galaxy.

Hope for a brighter future fills the minds of many of the New Republic’s finest, with a light finally at the end of the tunnel, but an unknown future ready to change the fate of the galaxy again….

File: new york.jpg (275 KB, 660x1003)

275 KB JPG

NEW YORK CITY, PRESENT DAY
Sounds of battle echo across the war-torn cityscape. The few heroes left standing fight desperately; this has become far more than just a battle for justice and the balance of the world. People used to joke about it, dismissing it as nothing more than a passing idea. With such a staggering number of supervillains compared to heroes, why didn't they all just team up and tip the scales in their favor? It used to be nothing but a joke—nobody thought it would ever become a serious issue.

Hundreds of fallen heroes litter the streets of New York City. Prominent figures from every division of the Avengers, the X-Men, and even smaller-scale groups like the Defenders all lie defeated. The few heroes left standing continue to fight desperately. Those who once clung tightly to their secret identities no longer care to hide them in this dire ultimatum.

A ragged, out-of-breath Spider-Man battles a horde of villains on the horizon. He no longer says anything, focused only on his breathing and the fight in front of him. He just has to hold them off a little longer.

At first, this seemed like nothing more than Mole Man carrying out his usual routine of trying to sink New York into the ground. The Fantastic Four were the first on the scene. Very quickly, however, the team realized this wasn't one of his usual attempts. No, this wasn't about burying the city—it was a strike from below.

That was when the first wave of villains began.

"Pete, please hang in there. It won't be much longer," a desperate Richards says to Spider-Man over one of the hundreds of communicators handed out to the other heroes.

There's no response back, only the sounds of pain from a poor boy fighting like his life depends on it.


Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.

File: file.png (278 KB, 1718x1718)

278 KB PNG

Zeul burns. The throneworld of the Shan-Vui Empire smolders in the fires of war as the gargantuan dreadnought housing the artificial intelligence that had nearly crushed the empire, Megalith, crashes into the planet. As the world fractures from the impact. The valiant defenders of the empire turn their attention to those who were able to flee the annihilation before them. Elsewhere voices clash as the fate of a historied planet and its people again dream of rising their own banner above their conquerors. At the border of the empire, a vile confederation of marauders and pirates prepare to sink their teeth into the dying beast that attempted to snuff them out. Finally, on an airless moon bathed in only the faintest of a dim star’s light, terminals glow to life to answer their creator’s final message.


Pick one
>Remnant Fleet: The various ships that remain of Zeul’s defenses, the Imperial Fleet, the civilian vessels fleeing Megalith, and the last of the Imperial Family
>Anvera Provisional Government: The planet of Anvera has had a storied past with the Shan-Vui Empire, now in its collapse various groups from all spectrums argue about the planet’s fate.
>Pirate Confederation: Fighting against the Empire for centuries of its existence, one warband has managed to lead the others in ravaging the lands of their mutual enemy.
>Last Command: secreted away on a small planetoid, a backup of Megalith’s processing powers and advance armaments receives their final order from Megalith before its demise.