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This board is for author-driven collaborative storytelling (i.e., "Quests"). In a quest there is a single author who controls the plot of the story and who drives the creative process. They can choose to take suggestions from other posters, or not, at their sole discretion. Quests can be text-based, image-based, or a combination of the two. Drawfaggotry is strongly encouraged!

To facilitate the author-driven nature of quests, /qst/ differs significantly from other boards in that the OP of a thread is considered the quest's author, and has some basic text formatting abilities: [b], [i], and color tags [red], [green], and [blue]. Therefore, only those people willing to put in the effort to be a quest author should post threads. If you do not intend to run a collaborative story, do not post a thread here! This includes meta-threads.

Dice rolling follows /tg/'s format (e.g., "dice+2d6" without the quotes in the options field rolls 2d6).
Current board settings:

Anyone can post images.
Anyone can use painter.
Anyone can use dice & spoilers.
Only OP can use text formatting.
3000 character limit.
750 bump limit.
Decreased post timer to match /tg/ (30 seconds for text, 60 seconds for an image reply).
Automatic permasage after 72 hours.
Thread specific user IDs.
Max threads per IP is 5.
Standard 7 day internal archive.

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You are a Lieutenant of the British Army. The year is 1915.

You have been stationed around the Belgian town of Ypres, a hotly contested area between the Imperial Germans and the Entente.

Command has recently gotten wind of an impending German attack, and has ordered you to begin preparing the men to defend their trench, quite possibly to the death.

You are not on the front line, per se. You are situated in the small village of St. Julien, alongside a Canadian expeditionary force and some Dublin Fusiliers.

How did you get to this point in your life?

>I was always an educated man, coming from a long line of local aristocracy. It is only natural that I join the army as an officer in order to earn my stripes in war.

>I am a grizzled veteran, having joined the army well before anyone serving under me. I earned my rank with blood and sweat.

>I was never a particularly rich or influential man, nor was my family, but I was a smart one. I went to an officer cadet school in order to train for my post, and now I seek to serve the Empire in the war.

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Your Sergeants approach you, saluting you as per your station.

Sergeant Lochlan is the first to pipe up.

"Our orders, sir?"

You respond; "Have the men begin setting up sandbags and positioning machine guns in preparation for the enemy attack. We'll need them if we're to successfully fend off the Germans, should they get this far."

Sergeant Mills would nod. "Yes, sir." He'd immediately rush over to carry out his orders.

You'd then turn to Sergeant Pearson. "As for you,"

>Position snipers in the taller buildings of the village

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>>Position snipers in the taller buildings of the village
"As for you, I want you to begin moving up our marksmen into the windows of the taller buildings around this village."

Sergeant Pearson would respond, "Understood, sir." He'd then immediately set to work getting the snipers in the optimal positions for the possible defense.

Meanwhile, up in front of the line, something disastrous was happening, though you couldn't quite tell what...

Regardless, until the Germans arrived at your position, you weren't to move or take any other action.

What do you do in your spare time?

>Review the men's armaments and discipline.

>Have a cup of tea to relax your nerves.

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>>Review the men's armaments and discipline.
You look over the men, attempting to assess their fighting ability. They look to be in decent shape, and even the Canadians seem ready for a good fight.

Your Sergeants have done a relatively good job of keeping discipline up in the platoon, and you're sure that these men are ready to respond to any order at any time.


>Have a cup of tea to relax your nerves

>Go over your equipment and ensure it's all up to standard

>Sit around waiting for the Germans

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GOAL: Organize the anons so that we can more effectively concentrate our force and influence.

>What do I do?
Get a trip, make or join a party (or go independent if you're a cuck), and let's get cracking.

>To do
Gather members of parliament
Form parties
Agree on a constitution
Start doing stuff

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i am ready to resign from labour and stop pushing my left wing views if i am elected.
Hey now this actually might be something others could get behind.
i have said that for a long fucking time.
I wish to justice.
I never really got that in bantgov and i want that.
closest i have been as was mod and president and i did both of those positions as impartially as possible.
As Chancellor (and Temporary President) I will respect whoever is on the court and hope to co-operate with them

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We play as Percival Williams a socially awkward Pokémaniac with a knack for communicating with Pokémon.
He's on his way to become a professional trainer and find his calling in life.

Your team so far consists of:
Vulpix (Alolan)
“Prince” (Elekid)

Traveling partners:
Kadabra: A teleporting friend.
Eli: A punkish girl who aims to be the next regional Pokémon champion

Gareth: 20 something college dropout who’s starting his Journey a bit too late

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Original thread: >>3105041

Picking up from where we left off.

You are a bastard son of a major noble, never legitimized, who has sought to gain glory in adventures and conquests. You have left your homeland on the border of Bohemia to venture into Bavaria, and are now participating in a tournament there in a forest clearing.

You are in the melee on the Black team. You chose to lead from the front, and while the others are hesitant, you eventually lock into formation and begin giving out orders.

Roll 1d20 - 2 (-2: Inexperienced) for leadership.

DC: 16

Roll 1d20 + 2 (-2: Inexperienced, +2: Armored, +2: In Formation) for combat.
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While your formations awaits your orders, you fumble over your words and forget yourself. Finally, you end up simply saying "GO AND SLAUGHTER THEM!"

The men resolve themselves to follow you despite this extremely rudimentary command. What they didn't expect, however, was your prowess in fighting.

You bashed, hacked, and slashed. You attempted to not kill your opponents as best you could, but you fear you may have badly injured many of them. It was almost remarkable just how many men fell before your blade.

After bashing a final enemy directly in the face with your borrowed shield, your formation lets up a mighty cheer, and raises you up on their shoulders.

Many spectators are screaming for you, and even more are asking "What is your name? What is your name?"

>Give them the name you registered with when you entered the tournament, solidifying it as your de facto name going forward.

>Give them a separate name, raising more than a few eyebrows among the tournament masters but otherwise making you famous under a different name.

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>Give them the name you registered with when you entered the tournament, solidifying it as your de facto name going forward.
>>Give them the name you registered with when you entered the tournament, solidifying it as your de facto name going forward.
"Rupert von Haftenburg!" You call out to the crowd, and they cheer your name. You feel glorious, in this moment.

You quickly look over the men who you "killed" in battle, and asked each of them their names. You had a scribe write them down for use after the joust.

As for the joust itself, it would be beginning soon. There is no rest for the wicked! You are given a specially-designed tournament lance - one which is meant to break on impact, so as to not kill your opponent - and mount your horse in preparation. You will be taking the first turn in the joust.

>Ride past your opponent a few times, measuring him up.

>Go in to quickly dismount him with your lance, wasting no time.

>Break his lance off on your shield once or twice to gloat to the crowd, in a sort of way.

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Welcome everyone my first attempt at a Quest. While I have done things like this on other platforms and DnD, this will be my first on 4chan with an entire group controlling one poor bastard.

You guys are controlling a Master of a Holy Grail War from Fate. We will be building him through a series of votes, trying to figure him out. We start with with a base and work up from there.

>Sebastian the Mercenary. Specializing in Spatial Magic and modern weapons, he teleports bomb and himself across the battlefield, gaining the upper hand in a sneak attack and assault. He runs around with Arthur Pendragon attempting to win.

>Magos Tech-Priest of Mars who stumbled across a Master and usurped his place. He is looking to bring all information from modern day to the Adeptus Mechanicus after a mishap with Chaos. He is trying to learn what he can from his Servant, Frankenstein's Monster, while he stalks for his next prey.

>Tom the Construction Worker. He was a normal man doing an honest days work until he found a guys corpse. Now a Servant to a Servant, will he and Medb win the war?

>1. I have final say in shit.

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Right, for some reason I was thinking of Jack the Ripper's master. Yeah Caster in Zero's master found that book on his property right? Chances are he comes from a magus family and had some recessive circuits. Still would have needed the jizz to keep going. Bet killing that kid right away helped too.

Still I feel like starting off with no prana would be a death sentence or at least cripple our servant at best but it's RED's quest so eh.

Wait... OH! Serial Killer was referring to the master of Caster of Fate/Zero! I thought it was referring to Madea's second Master and shit.

Sorry,>>3106584 , mental fart.
Medea, if I remember right, was feeding off the teacher until she had established enough of a base to feed of Ryudo Temple's leylines and was feeding off people in town.

While I am a little sad Magos did not win, you guys have some good ideas already coming up. Give me a moment and I will set up the next choice, Magecraft!
You are a proper magi that aims to use the cup for something, you have not really thought of it yet. What was your specialty of magecraft?
>Time Manipulation: You can slow and speed up time of yourself and other things. While you can never skip or reverse time, you have accidently skip about 60 years in your experimentation. Don’t expect to be using this often.

>Counter Magic: You are an asshole to the magus community. While everyone aims to make mysteries you aim to destroy them with skill and finesse. These are fairly cheap to fire off.

>Spatial Manipulation: You can manipulate reality that allows you to move things between locations. The limits are that you can move things of the same mass, up to 500lbs., and the distance cannot be anymore than a mile. While “cheap”, its cost grows based on the amount of material.

>Evocation {Insert Element}: You can control a certain element to its max. From being able to do small party tricks to forcing an entire room to your will, you are a living storm. This is basic magecraft and has a moderate cost.

>Runecraft: You can perform basic enchantments and lay runes filled with magic. This is beginner stuff, but you have learned how best to use it and made a name for yourself. This is cheap shit and can be easily stored/engraved into stuff.

>Witch: You are very proficient with curses and minor necromancy. Many see this as a useless craft as it has more uses other than research. Comes with a variety of spells that have varying costs

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It is said everywhere, from trade-chatter in the Unfree Cities in the east to the Hoppalon Archipelagos in the west, that all rivers in the world share the same source. This is demonstrably untrue but nevertheless, if you know the right way, you can follow any river deeper and deeper inland up towards a single point. And rising there higher than any mountain, atop an aquatic plateau whose edges are perpetual waterfalls, is the city. It stands between the bickering central nations but obeys, respects and recognises none of them.
It has a name, Aquitae Cogituum, but this name barely matters as its citizens simply call it the City. For only rarely would they ever see another. And why would they? It is the grandest city in all the world. It sits close to the heart of all things, above the Font and is both above and separate from all the Lesser Realms. To the city, the matters of the world outside...don’t.

Down below, prophets dream of walking its streets and wars are fought and kings slain for their meagrest treasure. For here it is said that all magic is born. This is something only said by those of the Lesser Realms of course, as it is a statement that would only invite scorn above. Magic is a foreign word. The people of the city above have no word for magic in the same sense that fish would have no word for water. Of course you could say that a fish doesn’t have a word for anything but in the city it just might.

It is the City of Dreams, the City of Reflections and the City of Revelation. It is also, rather more relevantly, the City of Duels.
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I'm awake but the vote is tied.
I shall vote for this.
Vote called, writing.
I wonder if you guys just pissed away our one bit of leverage in this situation.
They did. The clients have no obligation to fix us once the duel is over.

You are John Hoelscher and you've just returned after helping a Burn Team finish purging a Blight Incursion that you witnessed begin. It got brutal near the end, as between the Blight's attempts to turn the infested Ruins into a death trap and getting caught up in an active Sigil that predated most civilizations you were riding by the skin of your teeth most of the time, but you managed to pull through.

And now you're back in Shirahoro, with the soul of an Ancient named Lily in your back pocket.

It's been one of those weeks.


Character Sheet: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1lvqwQrtQ_YFvsVdcKJbSEAgpyZi9QrfJfnh_UDzvPKw/edit?usp=sharing
Previous Threads: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Artificer%20Quest
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Storyteller_QM
Discord: https://discord.gg/WA5wRv3
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Do bastards count as nobility? I wouldn't think so. Also, John probably does not feel very noble.
>No, we are not noble.
>That depends, do you consider bastards to be noble?
>Half truth. My family are not nobles.

I don't feel comfortable about this nosy woman.....Sets off the "gathering information on an enemy" bells in my brain

It's been pretty heavily hinted IC, but it was plainly stated way back in the char gen:

> Noble Birth: You never truly found out if you were legitimate or not, but when the plague overran your city that became a moot point. You've abandoned your status, and left for parts unknown. Who knows if someone followed you.
- Build a Quest Post #1718957

As for IC examples, these two are a good ones:

> You take a particular satisfaction in the irony of your next statements, "Do these look like a nobleman's son's hands?"
- AQ Thread 4 Post #1800339

> Eventually, Jun lets out a despondent sigh, "I forget, sometimes, that you're not some kind of noble... "
- AQ Thread 15 Post #2191496

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And be trademark dry witty if we can.

"I am sure that my friends can tell you i am a bastard in many many ways" but less shit for example.

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The Hunter Association is an organization of the best and brightest humanity has to offer. They work everyday to protect the people, knowledge, culture of world. To become a Hunter, one must pass a test known as the Hunter Exam.

The Hunter Exam is a test that happens once every year, it is known to be one of the most difficult and dangerous test ever conceived.

Back-Breaking Physical tests paired along with Complex and Unconventional mental tests which are all conducted under extreme environmental conditions, which is all done in order to find even one person with the skills to survive the intense physical pressure.

Those who pass the test are shown to be the best warriors and survivalists known to human kind. Passing the exam gives them a Hunter License, proof of their prowess and accomplishments.

This license gives them access to 90% of the entire world, 75% access to restricted places in the world, free use of all public utilities, almost 0 legal consequences for murder and most importantly, A lifetime of wealth and fortune.

However, the morality rate of the Exam known to go as high as 90% with a pass rate of 1 out 10,000 contestants ever passing the Exam every 3 years. Despite this, 1000s upon 10,000s of men and women still enter for even the smallest chance at winning the title of Hunter. Whether this be out of insatiable greed, heroic honor or outright desperation.

In the Hunter Exam, the only thing that matters is the need to win and the strength to do it.


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"....Not really." Arztz answers.

"Yeah, that's cause it was greater than your feeble mind could comprehend! Why didn't you stop him Mr.Turnland? For what reason did you allow that street urchin to just wander off!?" he asks.

"Brovoski just didn't have it in him to move...it was struggle getting out of bed this morning..." he states.

"By god! It's been two days since she left Mr.Turnland! Get over it already! If you're so tired of life, why don't I simply blow that oversized head of yours off!?" Dillion brandishes his golden MAG-7.

"You clearly aren't using those brains of yours for anything anymore! So I believe you don't really need them do you!?" Dillion threatens.

"Please don't Mr.Dillion, murder is not the answer." Arztz begs.

"Go ahead...Brovoski's heart already dead...you'd be doing him favor...." He groans.

He turns away in rage, "God damn it all!! There's no point in shooting what's basically a corpse anyway!" Dillion shouts.

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Arztz and Dillion ready themselves to fire.

GROAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH that is, until they hear a noise from the west.

A loud. guttural noise, the pained squeal of a monster, loud enough that the sound travels further and faster than the beast itself appears.

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-HAWWWWWWWWWWWWW And yet it is still somehow drowned out by the excited yells of the even more monstrous man on it's back.

The beast comes leaping and screaming from the bushes, rushing barely even realizing the group of people in front of it it howls it's way over with Bradford on its back.


"THERE YOU ARE YOU GOD DAMN INGRATE!" Dillion doesn't even waste time aiming before he's fired a slug at Bradford.

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>Bubbarus bigger threat
>The Bubbarus
>The Bubbarus
We need to weaken it so that it won't just use the size difference to dominate the Devil. Plus we need to get Brad out of there before they go at it

>Statistics: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1p2K_evlFKjbblbSTf3ZSf-0xECyNHEeiQEgyiFdADcw/edit?usp=sharing
>Character: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1F43-0W17qNQ3Q_FwOOQPYw8Rf4HmSCFrEcAv-uOPQD0/edit?usp=sharing
>Map/Locations: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1ns6pDh5fkzxTvBYSN_5dICL4JbVLwk7qiNyoNHPcdww/edit?usp=sharing
>Tasks: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1agFmzgoNb0jeqd2G9H2voZ5Zm4N6fxPTQXQyt_GY9ec/edit?usp=sharing
>Rolling Rules: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1D6xlxpzfqF_rC2iemL-OGhFkNK4uiy8PZdvjkkdVBPU/edit?usp=sharing
>Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=shipgirl+commander
>Twitter: https://twitter.com/DiceToTableTop
>Buy Me A Coffee: https://www.buymeacoffee.com/CnaZ3B8yg

‘Trust me,’ you reassure her, adjusting your load, ‘compared to how I am, you’re a swan.’

She giggles. ‘Thank you.’

The masses of people around you pay little attention to the presence of KanMusu and Vice-Admiral, not that you’d been of the mind to actually tug on attention. You’re actually quite thankful you didn’t have to put up with the odd face throwing you dirty looks or insults. It’d petered down significantly over the last week or so, but memories of your first few days in charge were always fresh … and with Kashima around you, the last thing you want is for her to put up with remarks on her being.

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Mech knows us too well. Giving us exactly what we want. Im worried
>It's not just love, but also respect for what she and everyone else does.
PSA: Mech's in the hospital. Hopefully its not too bad but he doesnt know how long hes gonna be in there.

Thread on hold till he gets out, at least.
Ouch..hope the dude's okay. But yeah, no worries, his health comes first :)

Welcome to The Greatest War! A quest in which World War One never ended, and instead awoke the dark creatures of the world. In the last thread we finally finished our first arc, Overture. This thread will serve as an interlude with a multitude of short one shots across the world serving as an insight into the mad place, along with some interviews with the characters.

Previous Thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/3050278/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/LukaLukaLuu

The dull orange of the gaslight lanterns threatened to flicker out as the driving white cast over the bow. You couldn’t see more than ten feet in front of you, nor could you hear over the howling wind that drove men mad. The mittens on your hands were frozen stiff, your grasp on the walk line tenuous at best. You tried to blink away the ice that froze over your eyelashes, the wool cloth over your mouth long since stiffened in the cold. Grasping against the steel railing you struggled to remain standing as the steel beneath your feet groaned under the stress. You shuddered as the wave of freezing water washed over you, threatening to pull you over the side and into the deep. All you could do was pray.

You are Nolan Gerding, porter of The Great Lakes Freighter S.S Ice Harlot. Three days ago you had left from port in Duluth, heading towards Detroit with a load of steel forty thousand tons deep. A day ago the Freshwater Hurricane had loomed above you, a massive swirling white cloud that even from miles away screamed at you as the ripping winds cut through the air. Perhaps years ago it was nothing more than a storm, but that was two hundred and thirty eight years past. Now, the storm was a monster all its own and unfortunately the steel still needed to reach the ports.

From the moment you entered the storm wall you could hear the whispers begin, the forlorn promises of mariners past who had succumbed to the biting cold and icy deep. You were deep in the midst of it now, where the whispers became screams of pain. The cold crept deep into you, past the many layers of wool with which you tried to shut out. Struggling through the whiteout you continue to pull at the line, the dark outline of the bridge behind you. To your left the hold nearest you seems to bulge outwards, straining at the hinges locked with ice.

The speakers hung on the rails gout out a burst of static, before the weathered voice of your captain speaks out.

“This is your captain speaking. All hands to the bridge before we batten down for the night, I repeat all hands to the bridge.”

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Whiskey it is. Vote closed and updating.
“A whiskey mason, just a nightcap before bed.”

Mason drops the ladle into his stew pot, then wipes his hands on his apron.

“You’ll have to drink it here, can’t have anyone drunkenly going topside and getting us all killed. Just one glass as well. I’ll make it up to you though Gerding, I’ll bust out my private reserve. Something about tonight gives me a bad feeling.”

You settle into one of the worn wooden chairs as Mason disappears below the counter, a loud clanging emanating from within the storage area as pots and pans are tossed about. The mess hall is a relaxing place, arguably just as relaxing as your bunk is. Captain Eckridge had insisted on wooden floors in the mess, the warm smell of old pine helped to conjure images of what the forests must have been like before the storm settled in over Michigan and slowly strangled away the life with an icey fist. Wood was a precious commodity here now, the logging rivers frozen over for centuries. The overland routes were even less viable now that the legends of old roamed the cursed grounds. Whether it be the Dog Men, or the vicious spirit of the Wendigo, men who ventured outside the paltry warmth of the major population centers seldom returned.

“Ah there she is! Finest brew this side of the 45th Parallel.”

Mason stands, holding a green bottle that he quickly pours out into two glasses with great care. The liquid inside looks the color of wood and fire, catching the light with a burning passion as the lamps on the wall faded and brightened occasionally.

“Enjoy it Gerding, as far as I know this brewery was buried under the drifts a decade ago.”

You grasp the glass in hand and sip the burning liquid. The taste of smoke and burnt wood coat your tongue in a strange film, pairing nicely with the fiery warmth that settles down into your stomach.

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[1] Spent your life on them
Back in a bit gotta make a store run.

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You are Ushi Walker, the half-japanese/half-american wielder of the mighty quirk “Everything is Bigger in Texas", U.A High first year student, the yet to be awarded winner of the sports festival tournament and very, very tired.

After all the fighting, the beatings you took and the treatments for those beatings, you kind of feel like if you were to lean on something, you'd be snoring in an instant.

Not like you could lean against a wall anyway, as Pony carefully controls the hovering horn you are holding on, floating you around the hallway as she shows what she can do, just as she finishes telling you how her homeroom teacher said she could do so much more with further training.

And you can't help but agree.

"<He's goddamn right! You can be like… like… Got it! Snipe and Gunhead! At the same time!>" You tell her, letting go of the horn and hitting the floor in a three point landing before hopping back up and placing your hands by your own horns, mimicking her shooting stance. " <Pew! Pew! You just gotta get a better grip on those controls of yours!>"

>"<...But that's, like, what Hawks does, isn't it?>" Pony replies, grabbing the ends of her open jacket and fully opening her arms. "<Coo~>"

It takes you a moment to assimilate her impression of what a hawk sounds like, but you don't let it slow you too much, lowering your finger guns to chest level.

"<Yeah, but you gotta admit that Gunhead and Snipe's names are way better.>" You tell her after the moment of silence, not sure if she's messing with you, or she actually has no idea of how hawks sound. "<Not sure if you've noticed, but Ah ain't a big fan of animal names.>"

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I mean, it'll have heart
Praise the dice gods.
Top kek
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definitely going to vote for internship that offers face dice. Best Jeanist probably
I would rather join a club that offers face dice and intern with Mt. Lady or Edgeshot.

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You're Pantsu Ahegao and you're a Ninja.

Your mistress Futa Cocknipples got you a mission to retrieve the fabled Dildo of Handless Orgasms from the Flying Dicks Mountains. It's in possession of the evil witch Halfassed Handjob, you'll need to be very cunning in order to steal it from her.

What do you wanna do?
> Go to the Flying Dicks Mountains at once
> Buy some climbing equipment since you're going mountain climbing
> Seek a companion to go with you in this adventure
> Start a dark metal band as a long term undercover tactic to infiltrate Halfassed Handjob territory
> other
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Rolled 26 (1d100)


The guards say "You stay right here mister pizza guy, I'm gonna head inside and ask if anyone ordered pizza."

Shit. Oh well, at least there's only one guard at the door now.

What do you wanna do?
> Kill the lone sentry with your katana and enter the castle
> Wait until the other sentry returns with an answer
> Pretend you're getting a phone call from your boss and tell there was a mistake and you're delivering to the wrong Halfassed Handjob, then go around the palace and attempt to enter through a window
> Eat the pizza it smells good
> other
> Kill the lone sentry with your katana and enter the castle
> Eat the pizza it smells good

You kill the lone sentry with your katana and enter the castle then you start eating the pizza as it smells really good.

The castle is a maze of corridors and rooms into every direction but you have a feeling that if you just go up the largest flight of stairs then look for the largest door you'll find the hideout of Halfassed Handjob. Thing is you're not sure where would she would hide the Dildo of Handless Orgasms, if on her room, on the treasury or somewhere else.

What do you wanna do?
> Head to Halfassed Handjob's room
> Head to the treasury room of the castle
> Head to the barracks and disguise yourself as a mook
> Head to the servants area and disguise yourself as a maid
> other
> Head to Halfassed Handjob's room
"Hi i'm here for round 2, baby!"

It’s been a little less than a week since you woke up with a back full of bees and a head full of holes, the old world washed away in a tide of flesh and bone. You go by your old nickname ‘Shu,’ your real name lost along with what could pass for normal in a world infested with creeping meat and patchwork horrors. You have to kill to survive and feast on the fallen to keep up with every day’s fresh hell.

It’s not all bad, though.

You’ve picked up two traveling companions in the short time you’ve been wandering the wastes. The first is Isabelle, a kind young woman who goes by B’ni from her days on forums that no longer exist. A fanged grin and a pair of animalistic legs cut an imposing first impression, but she’s been an invaluable companion thus far. The second is an old friend of Isabelle named Gina who, though missing her eyes due to an earlier unforeseen betrayal, uses her control of her nervous system to make herself something of a living sound system.

Seeking shelter from a torrent of acid rain, the three of you located a not-so-abandoned factory and after a tense stand-off with an abominable fusion of middle-schoolers, you consented to help them clean their room. You are just finishing up your volunteer work while you wait out the last of the rain and ponder the existence of something called the Cord, the destination that the world’s survivors seem to be drawn towards.

It’s not the strangest thing you’ve done since you woke up in the apocalypse…

…but it’s pretty damn close.
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Simultaneous three-way attack. Send two swarmlings at her, while B'ni comes in from another angle with a flying kick and your other swarmling comes in from another side with the jack. If it looks like the Enigma is going to run away, use your massive tongue to grapple her (and get ready to bite it off when her worms start devouring it. The tongue is a last resort, be prepared to take one for the team in order to take her down.).
Could we entangle one of her legs with our tongue and try to make her fall to the ground?

Make two more acid bugs though and throw them at her. And hope our allies finish her off
Have our swarmlings go for her eyes as we feint a retreat. As she comes for us, spit out our stomach tongue for a hard smack into her, grabbing her if possible. The worms will eat at us, but it may be enough time for us to jab the cord into her, and/or for b'ni to come in with a deadly blow.

Id help of we could spill some more scid on her to make absolutely certain we get an opening for the cord, but im not sure we have the time nor actions to rely on that. Still, if spawning one wont distract from our other actions, a one two punch of acid then cord in the hole would be our best bet once the distractions and grapple or knock back do their work.
dedicate all to grappling and pinning her. Use the maw to pin her between your jaws but don’t swallow. use your swarmlings to pin and drill her limbs to the floor in need be.
tldr use 1 act to send all the drones (the one holding Gina’s jack to aim at the back of her head) to pin her while Shu readies the maw for a counter grapple. Once Gina has her jack inserted into the angel, it’s up to her to mentally subdue her while shu and B’ni work on pinning and restraining her long enough for Gina to do her thing.
Ok, if we're taking blows this isn't so bad. I thought that worm armor of hers would instant eat any part of us it touched. Yeah, back away a bit more to play up the no CQC impression, then tongue grab and execution jaw. Should be fast enough to overwhelm her armor.

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This is a thread created for the discussion of quests and all things regarding them, as well as general whinging about different platforms and fatalistic predictions about the board's future.

Please do not shitpost and please ignore at any shit posters attempting to derail discussion or cause strife. Or at the very least make your shitposts entertaining. Outing yourself as severely mentally handicapped for example, while briefly entertaining, sort of derails discussion like nothing else.

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This link contains numerous writing guides, general advice, and various quest tools and communities. It is recommended that you give this a glance if it's your first time to the board and highly recommended if you are thinking about QMing.

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Because I need more people to suffer as I do.
>How much control do you give players over the MC's actions?
A fuck ton I feel like it's the thing weighing down my pacing.
>Do you get accused of railroading?
>Or do you often find your quest going off the rails?
All the time.
>How much characterization do you like in the main character at the beginning of a quest?
Preferably someone with a set appearance and motivation. I'm fine with getting to vote on certain background, traits, and features so long as the QM doesn't rely on the players to write the character in for them.
Was that the quest with the first paragraph was just ones and zeros?
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Dreamer's second session is LIVE:

Hey, QTG, I've been trying to find an old quest in the archives, but I've been stymied by the fact that I can only remember a few details, so now I'm turning to you guys. The only things I can recall are that it ran back when we had quests over on /tg/, that it was very short (1-3 threads, though it had an actual conclusion, rather than just petering out), and there was a triumphal moment in which the MC turned to the main romantic interest and told her that they were going to space, because space is the place. I think he may have gone on to say something about how they could go to the moon, but didn't have to if they didn't want to, because there's a lot of space. I know its a bit of a long shot, but if anyone else happens to recall anything that sounds like that, I'd appreciate the title, or even more so a link to it in the archive.

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