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File: TheCloneQuest_logo.png (92 KB, 600x412)
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Kamino is under attack! Despite their secret droid armies being discovered on Geonosis, the CONFEDERACY OF INDEPENDENT SYSTEMS has orchestrated a SURPRISE ATTACK on the homeworld of the Clones. Striking at the very heart of the Republic’s source of soldiers, the former Jedi COUNT DOOKU threatens to deal an irreparable blow to the Senate’s military plans.

Racing to prevent disaster, the Jedi Masters YODA and MACE WINDU lead the survivors of the Grand Army into battle. You are among the many Clones preparing for the desperate struggle ahead, to save your brothers and the future of all free species…
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Beskad steel is lightsaber proof. No reason to think the blade isn't. We probably couldn't go toe to toe with Dooku or grievous though.
Also remember this: We are NOT Mandalorians. We are clones, with our own origin and struggles.
We are brothers first, we know our duties. The Creed of our trainers and forefathers are not all we are.
Definitely not, but we can still shock the hell out of someone
We are brothers and we are Mandalorians, we fulfill the Resol’nare
We know our tongue
We wear our armour
We protect our own
We share our heritage
And we guide our brothers

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In this quest you play as Wade Wakeman, a 16 year old boy with a heart of gold and the wielder of the Omnitrix! This story is being told in an alternate universe, in which there are no longer any remaining Tennysons. Characters from earlier seasons will appear, but not always in a way that you’d expect.


Last time: Wade defeated Aku once and for all, and the thread got archived before the last update could be pushed out!

Most dice rolls will be 1d100. Modifiers will be added depending on the situation or on the alien being used(Usually +10 or -10). Crit successes and crit fails apply. Crit fails can be overridden by crit successes, but crit failures cannot override crit successes.

How to Roll:
To roll dice, type “dice+1d100” in the options field without the quotations. To roll dice with positive modifiers, type “dice+1d100+modifier number” in the options field without quotations, and with an actual modifier number. To roll dice with negative modifiers, type “dice+1d100+-modifier number” in the options field without quotations, and with an actual modifier number.

Aliens Unlocked:

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As the Great One spreads its magnificent wings, you see arcs of energy crackling, pulsating and reverberating along it thin membrane. And in a single powerful wingbeat, it sends a torrent of plasma towards you with great force.

But before it can hit you, you manage to counter the attack with a plasma beam of your own.

Your ebony flesh parts along the middle of your face, and your minimal facial features slide around to the back of your head, revealing a golden beam of light in its place.

You have no idea how this works, but you don’t have any problems with it so long as it works for you.

Both your beam and the Great One’s push each other back and forth, almost as if they were fighting for dominance. It may look a little bit cute now, but it’s much more powerful than it was before.

You find yourself being pushed back by the massive attack. So much so that the heels of your feet appear to be causing quite a bit of collateral damage. You notice a group of cultists fleeing the scene due to the treacherous terrain and hazardous conditions.

This is tougher than you thought. Looks like you’re gonna have to dig deep here.

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However, the sound of an aircraft flying overhead breaks you out of your laughing fit.

It would appear that the Plumbers have arrived...and so have the news choppers...and the US military…


You race towards you friends, who seem to be startled by the shocking development. Thankfully, it looks like everyone is still alive.

What do you do?

>Tell the others to leave for now. You’ll deal with the PR backlash.
>Tell the other to stay calm and disguise themselves so the cameramen won’t be able to ID them.
>Running won’t solve anything. You and your team need to address the public and explain what happened here.
>Bail out with the others! Being caught here probably won't end well for you.
>Have Princess Coco stay to explain the situation.

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>>Tell the others to leave for now. You’ll deal with the PR backlash.
>Have Princess Coco stay to explain the situation.
>Running won’t solve anything. You and your team need to address the public and explain what happened here.
>Tell the others to leave for now. You’ll deal with the PR backlash.

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There's nothing better than living in Raccoon City, USA. It has all the charm of a small town with the ameneties of living in the big city. You've lived here all your life and it would just about take the end of the world to make you want to leave this little slice of heaven. Friendly neighbors, great pizza, and a police force with its own paramilitary arm to make you feel extra safe. So what if there have been a lot of weird things going on in the news lately? These things happen. It's probably just some bad meat or a band coming to town or something. You have more important things to worry about.

Like how the date is the 24th of September, 1998, and it's your birthday! To be specific, you're turning 21 today, and can now legally drink! After you get off work, you and your friends plan to meet up for a big party.

You're a chef, working at a small diner in the heart of town. Your name is Daisy Dixon, Chef Daisy you like to call yourself, and while you aren't the head chef, nobody can match your meals. Your secret ingredient? Herbs, of course! Arklay County is full of these fascinating medicinal herbs and you like to mix and match to see which ones bring out the best flavor in each dish. FDA approved? Who needs 'em! That Umbrella Corporation you see ads for literally everywhere can push out more drugs than anyone can count, so why not sprinkle some ground up herbs on a plate of spaghetti?

It's early evening, and the dinner rush will begin soon. Thankfully your boss is letting you off early so you can go have your birthday party. You're cleaning up your prep station and washing your knife when you head a loud crash from the dining area; sounds like one of the waitresses dropped a plate or two. Well, that's nothing new, just more for them to sweep up.

Then you hear her scream.

>Probably nothing, finish up cleaning.
>Stick your head out of the kitchen window.
>Ask your boss what is going on.
>Eh, this'll keep for now. I'll leave through the back.
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Rally the most able bodied people to retake the east wing cops included
>Rally the most able bodied people to retake the east wing cops included
Support. Fuck doing everything ourselves, we have trained professionals with firearms!
>Try to get into the east wing
this chaos is the time to sneak around
the east wing is overrun by zombies, we need a reclamtion force.

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The Dragon Slaying Saint Asia Argento, Master of Saint Georgios in the Holy Grail War. When searching for the Oni Berserker Ibaraki Douji, the Nun along with King Dracula have discovered dangerous army of abominations. After attracting and siding with Rin Tohsaka, the group makes an attack on the supposed makers of the abominations, the Matou Family Head.

Journal Entry XV
Today marks the moment we march forward to kill the heretic that lives on God’s earth. Just the previous night myself, along with Georgios and Lancer have found the monsters that prowl the night. In the ensuing battle the monsters had collapsed an entire street in order to cover their retreat.

During investigations earlier today I met Rin Tohsaka, a rather blunt Magician who realized the scale of the situation. She had agreed to help us take out the heretic along with some information since she believed Caster was not the most trustworthy Servant. She brought to us that Lancer was King Dracula of Wallachia, and that the Heretic we were hunting down was the Matou Family Head.

After the battle, though, we need to follow up with an appointment against some devious fellows at ten o’clock. Their previous fellow was killed by Assassin, and it is easy to assume that Assassin might target the rest of them. If nothing else, they can share some light to his Master’s identity.

This is the Fifteenth entry I have written in this journal, and by the grace of God I am thankful to have written so much even after my death. I believe I have not wasted this second life, defending the weak from these forces. May I win this War, and after defeat the group known as Khaos Bridge.

Choose one of the Ability Scores and they will be raised by +5

Asia has gained 200 xp from the previous events. What should she invest points into?

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86 replies and 5 images omitted. Click here to view.
Source Material? Which one did I mess up as I have maybe 4 in this quest. Update will be before night ends!
With a snap of his reins Bayard went forward through the sky. While in life his noble beast could not perform such a feat, in death the two of them were able to take to the skies like Angels. With a push of his will the Servant produced a series of Spears into his hand, one of the many weapons he used in life.

“May the Lord Smite thee!” And with a force equaling fifty grown me the Servant tossed the projectile!

“Such a pitiful attack! Is that all you got!” Archer laughed as she dodged away from the first almost gracefully. With a laugh she brought her guns to bear towards the Saint, preparing to fire what should have been an epic barrage.

But she was too slow, much too slow. With a snap of his reins his friend gave a cry, a beastial charge right for Archer, “You must learn to never underestimate a Servant of the Lord!”

“Ah shit!” was all the Servant could let out as she was quite literally run down by Bayard. The attack was a heavy hitting one, sending her right into the ground below.

Seeing the chance for a follow up, Georgios steered his mighty steed directly towards the Demon King. But as the dust settled, he could see the barrels of at least a half dozen firearms pointed his way.

“Take this ya fucker!”

With a mighty roar of firearms cried out, though this was not like the barrage of before. The Saint could trust in his God given flesh as bullets could not simply penetrate his bare skin. Though if she managed to do such an attack again, he would not be able to withstand it fully.

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Rolled 80 (1d100)

>>Simply go fast enough that Georgios circles to Nobu's flank.

Maybe keep up the spear barrage as well so she cant focus totally on shooting us to death.
Yeah my dice are not ok with this thread I guess.
Rolled 19 (1d100)

>Simply go fast enough that Georgios circles to Nobu's flank.
Don't worry, it's not just you.

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>Your Hero Academia S1E1: The Future awaits!

Hey this is my first quest I've actually decided to run on the board and it's a trial run of sorts to see if I have what it takes so to speak. I've chosen this setting because I quite enjoy it and it offers a lot of fun options for us all to play with so expect the worst grammar you'll ever have to deal with and even worse formatting (I will try though). Voting times will be around about 15 mins after I post though i might extend it if not enough people vote, I don't really plan for many dice rolls as i'd rather do things a little more narrative based.

Your sat in the train station on this wonderful summer day, High School for you is over you hope because your planning on going to UA! Your hand grips tight around the brochure which had told you the dates for the entrance exam and with your quirk your sure you'll be up to whatever they throw at you!

>Quirk Vote

A) Gyro: You can adjust the direction of gravity upon yourself for a brief time allowing for bursts of flight, speed, walking on walls all sorts and you know your only going to get better at it with time!

B) Imitate: By making contact with an inanimate substance you can take on it's properties briefly! Metal, stone, wood, plastic...some day maybe even softer things?

C) Forget Me Not: You can scrub yourself from perception and cause bouts of temporary amnesia in people through contact

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> C) A lanky big eyed girl with green is doing stretching off
> C) A lanky big eyed girl with green is doing stretching off
Did the qm abandon us ?
Nah just taking a day off
Okay, have a nice day

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You are Gunlance Vance, or 'Freelancer' as you've come to be known as of recent. You came to the New World seeking new frontiers and monsters to brave, joined by your loyal Palico companion Vivi.

Numerous adventures await you here you feel, and you want to overcome them all.

Currently, you were stationed in the Research Commission's formal headquarters in the New World, Astera. You had 10492 Zenny total as of today.

Right now, you were out to instruct Tabitabi, a Tobi-Kadachi you believe you've tamed to a degree.

Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=monster%2C+hunter%2C+drawquest

Previous Thread: >>4005673
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Your party came across no Poachers out in the field, and Hulk soon confirmed that the lifeboat he saw was gone. More digging eventually turned up more cages and this time rope traps which were also dismantled and collected. The next step was depriving nearby and convenient food sources from the jungle while also working to help hide others for the local wildlife. Berries and fruit trees were picked clean and brought back to the setup, while berries not suitable for consumption due to their poisonous nature were left untouched. Though, there was some doubt in whether or not they'd actually be eaten. Any Poacher worth their salt would carry some basic knowledge of what to eat and what not to eat out in the wilderness.

By the time that was all said and done, your party regrouped again and decided on fortifying the camp setup spot more. Using the rope collected from the newest traps, a ghillie tarp was made using plenty of foliage collected from bushes and draped over the general sight of the camp from behind the rocks and tropical trees. It made for some decent shade against that blaring sun still blinding even as sunset neared.

It was about that time that Brigg decided to make a return to Astera. He said he would return by tomorrow with the barrels of flammable alcohol so that the bigger plan can come to fruition. You trusted him to return personally, but you doubted he would be able to convince Meowscular Chef to part with something he is said to rarely break out.

With most of the work done by now, it was just you, Senzo and Atricia. She put her own hands to work over the three BBQ splits available and worked up kebabs using fish and fruit, you had to admit they were quite delicious to boot. When you asked her how she knew to cook this well, rather than with minor ability that most Hunters have, she explains that before becoming a Hunter, she was a Handler once in the Old World. That part did surprise you, most persons who become Handlers usually stay Handlers.

The conversation about the Yama Tsukami the three of you had was shortlived as the night finally set in. The Scoutress explained that now was a better time than never for reconnaissance and slowly vanished into the dark of the jungle, saying that she would find a spot to watch from and sit there for the night, and then that everyone should regroup at the camp again in the morning. Senzo shrugged and followed right after. You did too, but this time you headed out the way of the bay openings, intending to see the extent of the Poacher's operation...
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You had wandered past the sands of the beach and back into woodwork. Very few trees were around and that sort of alarmed you, as there wouldn't be much to use as cover. You waded past grassy patches littered with stones and found yourself entering through the fold of Jungle, but only near it's sharpest edges.

As you did, you lost your footing then, falling off of a ledge as you tripped over it and face first down into some mud. You groaned and wiped the sticky wet dirt clumps off your leggings and gauntlets and pressed further in.

As you did, you come out to a place between the trees that seemed about as open as the barracks, but you stopped discreetly as you heard this strange sound from above.

You looked up and saw some sort of... creature there. It was short, covered in a cloak of something that looked like tree bark. It's face was hidden behind this veil it wore with many holes, and it's dark hand grasped a staff.

The thing tilted it's head downwards at you and you just looked back, trying to discern what it was. It made another noise, almost like a vibration then as it spoke. It's voice was coarse and gravelly.


You took a wild guess that by the scales you saw on it's dress, it was a Wyverian of some kind.

"...Tell the Star that Elders gather again. It will help his foresight."

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>"The comet? Blackened End? Sky?"
>"What do you mean by see reason?"
>"What do you mean by see reason?"
>"Blood? Whose blood are they after?"

*chuckles* we're in danger.meme

Not sure whose blood. Doesn't sound like fatalis, might be the blood needed to kill fatalis.
>"Blood? Whose blood are they after?"
>"What do you mean by see reason?"

We shouldn't waste a question on learning about what elders are coming when we can ask the researchers back home and see what they can tell us.

Low magic or normal magic.
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Nothing stops us from forming blood cult later
Can you stick around to post?
Sincere apologies - got an exam to do and got distracted studying when I got back last night. Posts will come, at least two today, but I can't promise speed. Thanks for interest/patience

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Twenty years ago- years before you were even born, your homeworld repelled an alien invasion which arrived with no warning, no declaration, no communication. The invaders killed tens of thousands of your people before they all suddenly died- killed by their own ships.


You can read the previous threads here: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=COADE
Check your stats and inventory here: https://pastebin.com/xN3kzUYp
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"Your mother made an exo-womb reservation many years ago for her child. Presumably she was unable to enter the ship." It flicked one of it's arms towards the tanks you were standing next to. "Sit down, please."

The bed had clearly seen better days. Whatever was underneath the cushion had buckled in the crash, pushing an uncomfortable, hard bump right up against your ass. Still, you try to sit still as the medical drone pushes close to you, holding out small arms with what looked like cameras towards you.

"Do you have any cybernetics?" It asked.

You shook your head. "Not unless you count dental fillings."

"Ever had surgery?"

"No." You shake your head, leaning back slightly as it thrust a camera a bit too close. "Look, I actually wanted to ask you-"

"Have you ever had imaging taken of your brain?"

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>Do it now. This is the one thing you came to do- after that, you're leaving.
What time is it now? would we still be able to make it back to the group and leave the crash site without blowing our cover, with the students?
>Do it just before you leave the ship. You're not quite done exploring yet.

Ouch. Imagine being roasted by a medbot
Also is it low key implied that, Elan's condition came about because he inherited the need for heavy metals, and it wasn't / isn't fulfilled.?
>Do it now. You can deal with whatever side effects it comes with as you're exploring the ship.

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The first thing you feel is the weight. On your chest, holding you down, preventing you from drawing breath. On your arms, as you strain to reach out and struggle, grasp, claw, dig. On your legs, wrapping an unyielding embrace that creates an illusive feeling of being dragged backwards contrary to your strained attempts to stretch out.


The scream tears out your throat, raw and echoing in your head. Only in your head, the heavy weight holding even the smallest movement still. Without the ability to breathe in, you find you are similarly unable to breathe out even the merest whisper of a scream.


Your struggle avails you naught, as the panic turns to determination to escape. Still, your attempt intensify until your muscles ache.


Unknowing how long in the darkness you strain against your world of enforced stillness, with the only evidence of your struggles being the ever increasing pain. The ever increasing HATE hiding the deeper panic behind it and the fear that if you stop now that you might not have the will to start again . . .

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Hey it's gonna be a bit different.

We're going to start out with some options here. Just need a tic.
>[2] Enact Stipulation 332: Whomsoever Signs This May Be Shorn In Twain And Live In Twixt
> You grab your Token

You attempt you remember what had happened to you. It's very foggy. But you remember you were:

> A Ruthless General

A sharp pain from the pyramidal point punctures your finger. Relieved, you push harder to ensure that your blood flows, the genetic lock beeping an affirmation of identity.

You are the Kingfisher. The Fisher of Men on the field of battle, then the Fisher of Kings when your victories brought you into the Halls of the Lords. Schemer, conspirator, backstabber, manipulator - the praises of your enemies sang in your ears as they fell beneath your schemes.

How upsetting to find yourself falling afoul of a plot. A terminal one, it would appear.

No matter. An obstacle is an opportunity waiting, perhaps you might even stay dead for a while. At least until you return to the capital, maybe even a little longer to see what little fish dare to swim into your pond thinking they are safe.

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> You grab your Glass and Gun

You attempt you remember what had happened to you. It's very foggy. But you remember you were:

>A Great Warrior

Outside the walls of the Capital, you were the weapon of the Lords. Inside the halls of the Capital, you found were naught but prey.

You are The Great Warrior, born from the cradle to be forged in the Creche. Genetically twisted from the threads of the true Heirs over the ages that failed, made to serve but not in despair. Your genetics may be mixed and muddled, and you may be known as one of many mutts raised to fight and likely die, but you still had the right to rise as high as any other.

The Lords never discard anything that might be useful, and your heritage had naught but noble blood. Perhaps it might rise once more, they told you.

And rise you did, right up into the hallowed halls. But when one rises, other fear that they might fall.

Was it a stipulation that you crossed, some agreement that you stepped afoul of?

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Rough start lol. Should have pre-written this.

Vote is open until tomorrow 6pm Mountain Standard Time. Then I'll run for a couple hours and vote times will be quick to rip through the first thread.

Discord at


If anyone from the first thread wants to discuss overall plot or setting, or wants to QM at any point but I do plan on just going ahead myself for the most part.

Also if anyone has questions about the character selection feel free to ask.

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Last Thread: >>4001267

Recap: After a fair bout of violence at the museum you've stolen a teleportation headband and a symbiote that you can form at will into whatever you like. You've used the former to teleport into the lab and you sure are pumped to go break into Theo's sanctum.

Credit for pic related: https://www.deviantart.com/maxa-art

The crisp smell of ozone hangs in the air. It's very hot and dark in here until sudden flashes of variegated colour illuminate the room for split seconds, distinguishing complex machinery tucked in every nook and cranny of the walls and ceiling, which at points make it very hard to distinguish which is which, but the only constant you can discern is the floor, which is a grille suspended half a meter over a network of drainage channels. You look behind you. The gang's all here.

(Continued in next post)
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He seems like he'd be the most into games
Terry: Maddox! You're up!

Maddox flashes a wicked grin. Tristan pays for the competition. The crowd goes wild as he plows through the competition, saying absolutely nothing as he beats everyone who trash talks and doesn't trash talk him. He just smiles.

By the eighth round he's in a gaming trance. Then once the finals roll by, a non-pixelated individual, his ultimate opponent, sits by him. You don't know who he is but he sure looks pretty menacing.

The tapping of controllers becomes audible at this point, and they sweat so hard right now it runs down the chair legs and stain the shag carpet. Good lord. The cheering starts to crescendo and all your friends begin to get a bit on edge.

Then Maddox begins to talk. It's an exchange of obscenities left and right. He spreads his wings. For what purpose? Dramatic effect you assume.

Roll 1d100 to see how well Maddox does.
Rolled 45 (1d100)

45 + 10 = 55

Maddox's mullet glistens brightly and his mysterious opponent works so hard at his controller that his fingers bend back and warp, spasming and convulsing in a way that shouldn't be possible for a normal human being. One of his fingernails pulls loose and flicks out for a second before going back in its socket. His triceps inflate. His hood soaks up so much sweat that it falls off, revealing him as the first person you fought - Sebastian Jones!

For a second there you imagine yourself tossing a gel capsule at him, but this is a game tournament, not a school hallway. The screen flashes and flickers, and the game accelerates to such a speed that you can't even take note of what's going on. The cheering gets ever louder, and people start throwing empty (or full) cans at the player they're not rooting for.

Sebastian: Prepare, Terry... to be stranded in this realm for all eternity!

Terry: Then you'll have to top Maddox first.

He looks at you for a moment with a mad gleam in his eyes.

The crowd's clamour gets so loud you think your ears might just bleed. Sara's certainly are. She falls to her knees, tears pouring from her eyes, so you try to comfort her. There's no point calling someone for help because there's nobody with a voice louder than theirs. You rush out of the building to look for some plasters.

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You walk to the edge of the forest, stumbling over roots and your own feet. You know what you're doing is dangerous, but you aren't exactly sure why; To be honest you don't think there's anything you are sure about right now. Your mouth's a desert, your head is splitting, your feet hurt from walking and your stomach screams for food. Why are you walking, again? Unpleasant heat flows in your right arm like molten lead.
A herd of dark rectangles appears before your eyes. Fat and big, with rough brown skin and thick yellow bristle on their backs. Small, shiny eyes located on the sides of a giant mouth with flat, dark teeth. If that was a complete description of what they looked like, then one might have thought that they were something akin to overgrown boars, but there were other, very peculiar features that differentiated them from other animals that graze on clearings. Their legs were nowhere to be seen, and even though they had a face, it looked almost glued to its podgy body, with nothing that could be called a neck or a head. What it did have, was a stubby, gray tail pointing straight at the sky.
You have never seen such strange beasts, and you stop in your tracks unsure if they're friendly enough not to squish you to death. It was only the sight of black smoke rising from the tail of one such rectangular creature that made you connect the dots and lead you to a moment of fleeting mental clearness. What lay before you was not a herd, but a village! Overcome with joy, you jolted in its direction. Hunger and thirst took control of your body, instinctively feeling that where there are people, there must be food and ignoring a quiet voice in the back of the head, a voice that whispered something about grave danger and outlaws...
The world darkened as you ran. Is it nighttime already? No, it can't be, the birds are singing. Then surely there's a thunder coming! Content with your deduction, you passed out and fell in a plot of cabbage


The past mixes with the present in a feverish dream. It acts as a dancer from the East, revealing only a part of her body while covering the rest with a fabric impenetrable to sight, only to swiftly switch it and make you forget about the previous image.
A feral monster with huge claws and a long snout. Its stinking breath turns into steam and its fur is matted with blood. It's scary, but beneath this simple emotion lies something else, much more subtle. What is it?
Suddenly you know. The beast that struck fear into your heart, now conjured feelings of nostalgia. You recognize the gruesome creature from your Grandmother's fairytales. The Howler, a terror to villages that snatched farm animals and children alike. Its name came from the bloodcurdling howls that echoed through the woods, causing villagers many sleepless nights until it got killed by the clever shoemaker who stuffed wolfsbane into a lamb and sewn it shut, poisoning the canine devil.

The beast becomes discolored and soon disappears

"...I say we must let him die. Helping him is dangerous, if the army finds out we are hiding a deserter, the entire village will be in trouble!"
"I won't let anyone die if I can save them. I said it once and..."

The Howler fades back into view, only this time there are quite a few men surrounding him. Men in armor and gambesons painted in the national colors. Although they outnumber it, they are not engaging combat. You can see they're scared. You don't think of them as cowards, you're scared, too, and your panic only grows bigger as the monster rips them to shreds with a few swift swings and heads towards you. You turn around and flee, but you don't escape its attack. Sharp claws dig into your arm like a knife into butter, slicing to the bone.
You gasp as you awaken. Only half awake, you're convinced you're still running from the Howler. Shakily trying to get up and run, you fall on your back again. Powerful tremors caused by fear and the anger at your powerlessness shake your body like it's a hive full of angry bees. A hand touches your forehead.
"Calm down, child. You're safe now"
The voice is soft and mesmerizing, it makes all distress disappear into thin air. You struggle for a few more seconds before looking around.
You're lying on a table in a small wooden cottage. It's dark outside, the house is illuminated with only three white candles. An old woman is standing next to the table. She is wearing a white woolen tunic over a simple, long woolen dress. Unlike most peasants you have seen, both her body and clothing are clean and give off a pleasant scent. Despite old age, her face has soft features, undoubtedly she was beautiful in her youth.
A slight pain arises on your arm, just below the shoulder. You look down and see that your wound has been cleaned thoroughly and there's no disease in it. You sight with relief, but grow wary when you see that the source of the pain was the woman running a chicken egg along the surface of the open wound.

>What are you doing?
>Why are you helping me if you know I'm a deserter?

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There’s nothing more pleasant than the smell of vomit and lilies mixing in the morning air except maybe its absence. A man stumbles out of an extralegal parlor, intoxicated with a myriad of good feelings that will soon be expelled onto one of the many pristine white surfaces. Closed clubhouses, lurid fountains, questionable halls—all clean marble and all quite still. The reasonable ones have retired for the morning and the rest know to keep quiet. No regurgitated happiness would stick to any of these walls, and it’ll all flow down and through some district too poor to do anything about it. But no one cares about that man bent over about to empty his stomach.

You care about the one walking down a canal, the one that carries a sheathed sabre on his belt and a letter tucked into his vest, and you care because that man is you. You have little knowledge of what he looks like because he is you. The only things you know about this mysterious person is that he has messy hair and a vacant stare. Any other details escape the touch of your hands. And what’s worse is that by being unfortunate enough to be this person, you have a secret admirer!

It comes in the form of a bird. A particularly confused bird, to be exact, one that has been keeping its distance, scanning the area, and tilting its head. It’s a white pigeon and it’s collared. Or at least, it’s wearing something that appears to be a collar. There’s a sigil on it but it’s far too away to see anything that’s not a white blur. It’s white on white on white, and you only took notice because it started following you as soon as you left your home. It has not once allowed you to leave its line of sight.

And whatever this turns out to be, you are sure it has nothing to do with why you’re here, which is heading toward the d’Gemetto residence for your upcoming duel. Your good friend Stefano offered you the job and you took it. You know nothing about it except for what was written in the letter, which explained it was a lovers’ quarrel and something about a snake. You should him you are a duelist, not a marriage counselor.

These thoughts are interrupted by someone to you left spitting on the street. “You can take your looking glasses and shove it up your ass!”

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Quintilio Carrozzi
Composure Pool: 3d4, ???
Technique Pool: Empty
Strike Pool: Empty

Abilities: Unknown


>Familiar Territory: [STANCE]When you activate this Stance, declare either Strike, Flourish, Trick or Stance. While this Stance is active, whenever an opponent uses a Technique of the declared category but before it would resolve, increase the sides of the single lowest dice in your Composure Pool by 1. Can only be active while you have d12s in your Composure Pool.

>Reforge: [FLOURISH]Destroy one of your Composure dice of your choosing. At the end of this round, generate two dice of the same size back into your Composure. Any effects from the old dice carry onto the new ones.

>Walking The Edge: [FLOURISH]Move the single lowest dice from your Composure Pool to your Strike Pool. This can work on your final Composure dice.

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Interesting. Mirror would've been good too, but I was worried about a Maccio tier stance. Lead the blade could be in trouble once we start flourishing, but for now we should be good.

Right now I'm thinking either:
>Mirror, LTB, LTB
>Showing off, LTB, LTB
>Brute Strike, Brute Strike, Mirror
not in super thonking mode yet, though.
This stance isn't a big deal yet, just something we have to keep in the back of our mind o we don't look the fool leading against a die he isn't going to generate.
Mirror Image is kinda trashy right now without the ability that buff it, especially since chances are we are grabbing walking the edge which is mostly just worse then showing off, and would till not circumvent his stance. Grabbing Reforge could be interesting but would be hard. Currently I would very much suggest leveraging our superior tech gen before he can burn through his low comp dice and get into his groove.
>Showing Off
>Lead The Blade (d4)
>Showing Off

This seems like a very safe bet and could psyche him out of he doesn't already know we have Lead The Blade. Worst comes to worst we still gain an average 9 damage waiting to be used in our tech pool (2d1 and 2d6).

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Pick race and location
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> You crossed the ocean into a new land full of monsters and you'll meet other humans who also crossed the ocean, you have support from established kingdoms from overseas and they will demand taxes at some point and if you eventually want to go independent you'll need to wage a war for it
Rolled 1 (1d2)


1 - valley
2 - crossed ocean
I've been working on the setting and the map a little and it is taking me longer than expected, I need to go to sleep now because I have stuff to do early tomorrow, I'll have to postpone starting the thread to tomorrow, sorry about that.
Undead and Ruins
We make a call too our fellow man, these mouth breathing knuckle draggers will burn.

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Previous thread: >>3978955
Hijack point: >>3991266
The sky is clear and the Sun's golden rays caress your skin with their warm embrace and bathe the untamed landscape in their bright radiance. The mixed forest covering the remote valley whispers softly in the gentle breeze, drowning out babbling of the stream running below. Though the birds chirping excitedly make a genuine effort of their own.

But then everything goes still.

"It is time." A familiar voice you can't quite place says. You look around, scanning the horizon, uneven line between mostly untamed highlands and a canopy of pure azure, only broken by a handful of plumes dispersing above the hot springs.

You realize that you are huge. The trees you remember looking up to as mountainous features of landscape are laid out like fenceposts before you. You make a step, then another, entering into a steady rhythm, turning the trees aside as stalks of wheat, heavy with harvest's bounty.

"The time of reckoning. The time when wages of treason are paid." The voice speaks again.

Your gaze rests on one of the ridges you are cresting. Behind it you could make out a ribbon of pure light, reflection of the sun in the river as it winds down the valley.

Is that truly how it is meant to be? Another, gentler voice speaks.

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>Discuss something else with Theodore
>Eavesdrop at the door (send Theodore on an errand y/n?)
>Discuss something else with Theodore
>On what magics do you specialize at?
or does the magic system here doesn't work like that?
Let's learn about magic OOC
Barge in

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It is the year 20XX and after a cataclysmic economic collapse paired with unprecedented political dissent finally broke the camel's back, the United States of yesteryear is no more. A loose, aimless, and disorganized uprising united only by shared disdain overthrew what they claimed was "silk-gloved, iron-fisted" government only enough to irrevocably strip its legitimacy. Most of the powergrid broke under pressure, a handful of ambitious opportunists broke ranks, and soon the infighting was in force and any semblance of stability ceased to be. The internet is in shambles, events are moving too quickly to catalog, and far and wide confusion reigns.

The only thing everyone can agree on is that the civil war didn't stay two-sided for long, now hundreds of petty states and strongmen are warring for supremacy, and it's anyone's guess what's going to come out of the next decade. Overseas, foreign superpowers are busy waging their own wars in America's absence to officially intervene, but they're almost assuredly smuggling aid and personnel to select groups. The UN, with a bloated military and tacit allegiance to the former US government, has made footfall on American soil and is undergoing operations, officially to put down terrorist insurgents and seize rogue nukes, but some claim to ensure the hegemony of the New World Order. What elements of the American military and law enforcement haven't deserted are shattered into their own warbands or formed ranks under any one of a hundred petty factions.

>The only thing set in stone is that you're an independent warlord somewhere in the former USA and are hell-bent on seizing power for your religion, ideology, faction, or self. For fun, we'll be rolling to determine almost everything about you and barring some serious luck/strategy/cowardice on your part, this will be a one-shot, one-kill quest
>Roll 1d20 to determine your religious affiliation

>1) Catholic Fundamentalist
>2) Protestant Fundamentalist
>3) Sunni Fundamentalist
>4) Shiite Fundamentalist
>5) Neopagan Fundamentalist
>6) Mormon Fundamentalist
>7) Atheist Exterminationist
>8-10) Nonmilitant Atheist

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Forgot about name suggestions. How about Joan "Middle of the Road Warrior" Anderson for a suitably silly title
Our nick should be "Gravity"
pulls everything towards the centre
Bomb Manufacturing plants eh?

Oh the possibilities of our Genius Chemist and a working bomb plant.

Dirty Anthrax Bomb Anyone?
Anthrax is a biological agent, isn't it? We're more along the lines of mustard gas, sarin, and good ol' Willy Pete.

Also drugs, probably, and at maybe enough knowhow to get some vaccines and sulfa antibiotics if we're already making our own medication.

>Quantity: 4 points (total of 5)
>Quality: 7 points (total of 8)
>Loyalty : 3 points (total of 4)

We've got a decent number of well-trained fighters who are just loyal enough to not fuck us over immediately

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