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You wake up in a grass field, naked and lacking any memories, you're surrounded by hundreds of other naked men, most of them not moving, in the distance you hear the sounds of gigantic creatures screeching, the sound makes your gut sink, suddently you remember one thing, your name



>HP: ?+0
>STR: ?+0
>INT: ?+0
>DEX: ?+0
>AGI: ?+0
(Roll 5d5 for your stats, HP is multiplied by 3, first number is your natural skill and the + is the boost for your equipment)


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You stand up from the pile of bodies, you don't know for how long you've been there, your body aches and the only memory you have is your name, bean

Around you is a spacious grassy field, some trees and vegetation growing but no sight of animals wandering around.

No other bodies seem to be moving so you decide to wander around

Where do you want to go?
>The cave
>The beach
>The passage where furious sounds of death come from
>The beach
Look for some big rock or log/stick on the way there
(Sorry to take so long I was making food)
You walk headed to the beach, you don't know what you'll find there so on the way you look for something you can use to defend yourself

>Obtained stick, +1 to STR when equipped

You reach the shore and see it's littered with giant spiders, there's also some items that have washed up ashore.

>Driftwood x2
>Small dagger, guarded by a spider
>Necklace, guarded by two spiders

There-s also some bigger spiders not guarding any items, where do you want to aproach_
Look for some naked moving men and attempt communicating with them
You look around and spot another man that has stood up from the pile of bodies, he was looking at you from a distance.
You aroach him
"Uhh hi my name is Shellac, do you have any idea what's going on?"

Your parents are dead. That's the first thought that enters your mind when someone asks you about your past. Your dad was a Captain in the Charn Home Fleet. When the Covenant came knocking, he and your mother, an Armywoman, stepped up. They fought bravely, with pride and gumption, standing fast and displaying the insignia of the UNSC proudly on their shoulders as they stood between the alien bastards and your home.

They were both vaporized by plasma.

And that's where you came in. A small girl, one figure in 5,000, all of you cramped onto a refugee ship fleeing from a burning world. Your baby brother clutches your arm, his large, doe eyes darting all along the length of the ship, dried tears on fluttering eyelids. He's finally stopped babbling questions about when Mom and Dad are going to show up, settling for terrified silence. You, though- you're staring straight ahead. You feel something in you, a spark, a wanting, a lust- as your fists curl up for the rest of the flight.

Time blurs together, and all you know is that the ship lands, and you're told to leave, holding Drane's hand tightly, making sure he stays with you. The moment you step off the ship, a man and woman, both dressed in pitch black, with tinted sunglasses, pull you aside.

The man gets to one knee, level with you.

>"Did your parents die on that planet?"

"Yes." Your voice is quiet and cold.

>"Do you have anywhere else to go?"

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You and Leon sprint for your lives. You see a wall in your way. You bring up your M90, and fire. A section of the wall is blown out, and you charge. It collapses, and you're in a narrow passage of hallways. You and Leon dart through, heading towards what you know is the other side of the complex, smashing through doors and furniture and glass and...

Outside. The two of you brace as you land feetfirst into snow, and then feel an explosion rock your boots. You hear the sound of shifting concrete, and then critical structures collapsing. You don't need to look to understand you need to move.

>Run for another apartment complex
>Sprint for the woods
(Sorry about the thread necro, my course is done so I should be around now)
>>Sprint for the woods

No worries.
>Run for another apartment complex
Rolled 1 (1d2)


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"There's a tale about a man from o're the Hill. He come knockin' when things ain't goin' right. Children come up missin', crops not growin', livestock took. 'Eh know some how. It's best not to ask him too much because he ain't goin' to answer none anyhow. Jus' make 'Im mad less oh bein' to help you for fair ah price."

You feel an itch down where its hard to reach. The air smells foul. Voices whispering off in the distance sound like crying women and young'uns. It's a time to go ah hunting. However, there's no need to work for free.

>Look to the one ailin' for payment

>Help those in need first. You can hammer out a deal later

>Figure what's happen' first

>Get some shuteye. Dreamin' can help just plenty when its needed.
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As the youngin's go screaming into their well lit home and embrace their sobbing parents. Ya feel dat yer work is reward enough. Nodding you say nothing and start to leave. However, before you can move more than few paces the parents call after ye. "Oh Man from O're the Hill we owe you fer now until our dying days, and perhaps beyond. Can we honor thee proper!?" You turn back towards them and sayeth,

>"Honor me as a saint for the devil himself fear the Man O're the HIll"

>"Honor me my Axe fer its head did more work than me self"

>"Honor thy own brood for in them their is always hope"

>"Honor the natural honesty of man, for in it all good does spring"
>"Honor me my Axe fer its head did more work than me self"
>"Honor me as a saint for the devil himself fear the Man O're the HIll"
>>"Honor me my Axe fer its head did more work than me self"
>>>"Honor me my Axe fer its head did more work than me self"

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One day you're sitting in your house, but then you see a meteor crash into the earth revealing a small metal capsule.
What do you do?
>Continue browsing 4Chan
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You decide to watch the news to search for crimes, you notice that there's currently two masked gunmen who have stolen an armored truck containing money from a local bank. You fly to the highway the truck is driving down.
>Punch the truck
>Melt tires with heat vision
>Melt truck with heat vision
>Melt truck with heat vision then rape both criminals
Shove the truck up our bum!
>Melt tires with heat vision>>3586492

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We Salt Your Wounds.

From the day you were born, you've heard those words come out of your father's lips. He always said it with pride and anger, like any other Ironborn lord. You never knew where that anger came from until you suffered your first wound by some lowborn pissant peasant: the boy blackened your eye, but you took both of his in turn. His father knelt down and held his screaming son while he begged you mercy as your own looked at you with pride.

That was one of the only times he ever acknowledged you before Daemon made his talent known and now the old reaver will never look at either of you the same way again.

Sniffling whimpers whine from your feet.

You look down at your littlest black-haired sister and pat her on the head.

"He's with the Drowned God now, Shera, being attended to by mermaids and feasting on roasted fish."

An ever familiar long-haired young man with equally black hair lifts the little girl up on to his shoulders.

"Father just dropped dead. Even if he had been reaving on a ship, I doubt the Drowned God would take him."

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>[X] "How will he devour all the stars in the sky?"
>[X] "What do you mean by flickering stars?"
>[X] "Just what exactly lays east?"
>[X] "Do you think the sea dragon can slay the golden kraken?"

Of course you're going to ask him about all the things he said. You'd have to be an idiot not to with the dream you had and his mysterious appearance here. Hopefully his answers don't just raise more questions.

"How will he devour all the stars in the sky?"

The Drowned Man lowers his hand.

"You will become one and you will shine brighter than them all, become them all, or drown them all under one."

Lowering your eyebrow, a frown makes its way on to your face.

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>[ ] "Come with me, old man, you haven't been in the castle for years."
Getting late where I'm at. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8)

Any thoughts or questions, my dudes?
>[ ] "Are there others like our drowned god? The Stranger could be an envoy of his to the Seven, considering how little worship him."
>[ ] "Come with me, old man, you haven't been in the castle for years."
You've been doing great! Really enjoying this quest so far.

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On March 11, 1998, the Rapture happened.

Soon, people find out that the phenomenon is global, that various people everywhere have disappeared from their clothes, to be taken...somewhere. As people panic and scramble to find answers, pilot Rayford Steele discovers that his wife and his son were also among those who were taken. A video message given to him by the New Hope Village Church's acting pastor Bruce Barnes reveals that this event is the Rapture, as foretold in the Scriptures, and that this is preceding the appearance of the Antichrist, who will usher in the seven-year period called the Tribulation, after which Jesus will return to the earth to set up His Father's Kingdom. Realizing that time is short and that his eternal destiny is at stake, Rayford prays to God for salvation and eventually gets his daughter Chloe to believe the message and be saved. Meanwhile, the person that would become the Antichrist, Romanian president Nicolae Carpathia, makes his first appearance at the United Nations, where he wins over the entire security council and the world in his takeover of the organization to become the world's ruler.

This is NOT their story.

Fourteen months after the Event, Nicolae Carpathia has consolidated his power, establishing a global currency, a global religion, and -nearly- a global government. To everyone's surprise, Switzerland has just signed in to it; the only holdout is Israel. Negotiations are in progress and Nicolae estimates that the human species will be united in four months. The bureaucracy deployed for this monumental undertaking is surprisingly small and effective, and much of the political and regulatory work was achieved in record time thanks to Carpathia's silver tongue. The technical work, however, can only move so fast.

Following the Rapture, there were many speculations about what had taken place. Some thought it was aliens with advanced transporting technology to take those who offered least resistance away with them. Nicolae Carpathia postulated that it had something to do with the presence of nuclear missiles and other unexplained natural phenomena working together to cause the disappearances to happen. Enigma Babylon One World Faith spiritual leader Peter Mathews believed that it was God removing "the chaff" from "the wheat", allowing only those who were considered good in His eyes to remain. Now that the arduous task of dismantling most of the world's nuclear weapons is complete (Nicolae may or may not have kept a small cache as a deterrent), engineers and technicians are free for another undertaking.

You have been tapped to ensure that the united world has a united telecommunications infrastructure: the world is going digital and you are effectively the person in charge of making it happen. Nicolae is perfectly willing to allow for freedom of the press on the internet... as long as he controls the wires. Hence, the Custodial Arrangement of Telecommunication Systems, and its new Foreman... you.
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Imma cal him Roy.

I know he has a name of Kruno Fulcire but Roy is way easier to remember.

Roy Rogers.

Like the drink.
It's a name with a moustache.
So that would be 18 every 4 turns?

I vote
> 2 on recruiting a work team
>1 on install a cellular solar pylon in mexio so it looks like we are getting work done

We need to spam work teams guys the more we have the more we can do.


Welcome back!

This was the intro thread: the next thread is at


mostly so suptg archives properly.

(Also, I got the dates slightly wrong internally, so the Rapture happened in 1996, not in 1998. The game starts in 1998.)

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Welcome to 2-Bytes, an ongoing and board-traversing quest based on the breakneck RPG FNAF World! Explore dungeons, fight monsters, learn fun moves, and uncover a possibly sinister underlying threat--which 2-Bytes is not guaranteeing does or does not exist, and has been trying to crawl into your world for months now.

Rules in the form of a back and forth improv comedy troupe: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1p2W7_SrG0N3RwsmekUHqPQ_py6oh7xe3OqrbhrTzx-w/edit?usp=sharing

Rules in the form a Sane Person would prefer: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1yR-dDZsKpgIGpow3dW6iYEjkcm0IfHT5qdiO4DNNY4o/edit?usp=sharing

Archives of the Journey Thus far:

Session 1: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1CgJes-0XexZNpMxEjqtGQE4yBEoVlUjseodHVCVwGgg/edit?usp=sharing

Session 2:

The Rundown:

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Rolled 1 (1d2)

(Oops! We have one vote Melty, one vote Prizey. Melty currently has possession of the Bangle because of my gun-jumping, but for the ultimate decision which is Prizey will be handled outside of the Well...

Heads for Melty, Tails for Prizey. )
>The good equipment
Jeez, it's just +2 OT. It's not like we gave you a killbot or someth- oh right.

Let's head back. We're running low on NP and it feels like we've been in this hole for months.

He can keep it, he's been our main DPS and tank so far.
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As bad as the frigid blizzards of Dusting Field can get, the giant stone beasts, oily slime, and overall scent of earthy decay aren't preferable down here.

"You got yourself a fancy new piece of equipment. Let's get the heck outta here. My robes are drenched and I'm starting to hate this place."

"Sensible." Frederick huffs. Melty sighs, adjusting his bow-tie, and lets you take lead to the ladder up. It's well within your walking distance, and thankfully the noise of the battle with the Quarry beasts didn't draw in more monsters.

You offer to help Prizey up the ladder, but she seems more than capable of lifting her box with her. Beneath her, Frederick's weight makes the rusty old ladder holler in protest but doesn't give in, thankfully.

Melty scales the walls instead, taking full advantage of his noodly appendages.

"So, when we reach surface... and do pardon, I'm still remembering things in bursts-how will we reach this Choppy gentleman?"

"Dusting Fields ends East of us into an abrupt forest, we'll have to try not to lose our way in there, it's largely uncharted. After that the trees open and there should be a dirt road further East still, then we cross left at Lake Millenill, Choppy's mill should be there."

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Yeah, we should probably get back and catch that rabbit while we still can.
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(Apologies for the no notice disappearance, I fell asleep)

After climbing an uncomfortably long while, you're greeted with the familiar biting cold of the Dusting Fields. Shiverstab Cavern, where this whole adventure more or less started, is directly to your East. Beyond that should be the forest to Choppy's mill.

"Hopefully we'll be able to find some sanctuary to regain our spirits before the trek." Frederick says.

"Says the doof that hasn't taken a single hit yet." Melty grins, attempting to coil around the behemoth of a bear. Frederick, in one quick, casual motion, grabs him by the neck and tosses him aside.

"Perhaps because I make some semblance of a plan before jumping into action. You should try it sometime. In any case, our less robust chums could benefit from a rest."

"There's a camp up North, but I'm sure there's a Recovery Orb or Inn somewhere before the forest..." You hate to confess it, but you are panting in a tinny, robotic way that is not remotely a ham-fisted way of trying to convey a robot experiencing exhaustion.

Prizey is keeping a strong face but various tears adorn her stitched body and she has barely spoken a word since she took those hard knocks in the Well.

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Hello folks, this is the start of heroes quest, you are a young hero to be. to begin this journey, you must first choose this heroes class (be creative if you want :3)
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hero: what do you want?!?

Pink haired girl: I want to figure out why your kind is here?
Tell her we have amnesia and don’t know why we’re here either. Maybe she can help us figure things out?
girl: amnesia?!? the hell, is that a joke?
No I woke up in the sewers, smell me. Know how to cure it?
girl: besides the smell, there is no way you can have amnesia. so to to prove that (giving a smug look)... actually, I have a better idea.

>scene W.I.P.

Sixteen years ago, the warrior race known as the Saiyans were annexed into Emperor Freeza’s army. Since that fateful day the Saiyans have more than earned their title of warrior race. proving their might as Freeza’s most powerful soldiers, annexing hundreds of worlds in the name of Emperor Freeza. After the now-legendary Siege of New Salda broke the might of the Covenant’s empire, none have dared to openly challenge the PTO’s military superiority. Many systems have fallen in line, dozens upon dozens of worlds surrendering without a fight.

Welcome to Saiyan Conqueror Quest, currently Age 747. You the players control Karn, a Saiyan with a base powerlevel of 5,704,400, a general in Lord Freeza’s army, husband and mate to Meloka, father of many, champion of New Salda, wielder of the Stand Dragon Force, and as “The Dragon of New Salda” you are the unbroken symbol of the PTO’s might across the stars. But for now peace has come to the Saiyan race, unlike any they’ve ever known. But how long will this hard-earned peace last?

Character Sheet, powerlevels, and other pastebins: https://pastebin.com/u/GrandDragonQM
Archive link: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=Saiyan+Conqueror+Quest

Quest rules:
>20 minute votes, 3 votes minimum to proceed
>Only first 3 correctly rolled die count, best of 3 wins
>If any two roll posts are within the same second, they will be counted as one roll and I’ll take the higher number(s)
>When votes are given, DO NOT pick every option. Pick -ONE- option, unless stated otherwise
>Crits are nat 100, unless otherwise noted(a 99 may net you an extra bonus)
>Crit fails will count ONLY if a 1 is rolled and no roll passes the DC, OR two 1s are rolled
>Two 1s will OVERRIDE a 100, resulting in a catastrophic crit failure

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That goes without saying, doesn't it?
Broly’s a tall one, that’s for sure.
That’s a given.
>karn kicked best boy into high gear as too being awesome, so he will now get good since he will figure out his purpose.
He’s a long way from finding that. And many people never figure out their purpose, at least consciously. It’s a deep question.
>He’s a long way from finding that.
Something tells me it lines up perfectly with his passion, which is doing cool shit.
He's like Goten or Kid Trunks except he's not a complete retard (or detrimental to the story).
I have a feeling he's gonna master most, if not every technique he comes across at some point.
And what do you do with knowledge besides pass it on? Saiyan Martial Arts Academy when?

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>Saigon, Deutsch-Ostasien
>January 29th, 1936. 10:58 PM

In a bar in Saigon, twenty seven men armed waited for a signal. In the meantime, the commander and the subcommander were having a bit of a spat. The commander, by the name of Julien Hennequin, was a firm believer in conventional warfare, where the subcomander, Sái Ngọc Thiện, was strongly in favour of more guerrilla style tactics. In the midst of the argument, and by the urging of they're soldiery, decided to settle this like the men they were, through a drinking game.

>Your options are
Play as Commander Hennequin
Play as Subcommander Thiện
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"You have my word Lieutenant, lay down your arms and you and your men will come to no harm."
"I accept your conditions, step into the square and we will accept your surrender." You say. Team A exits the building to detain the soldiers that exit from various buildings around the square. They are tied up with zipties and you inform command.
"This is Saigon Command to all outlying free cities, German troops are retreating from Saigon and pulling back to the first defence line." The gunfire throuought the city slowly dies down as German troops evacuate the city.

>You are carrying
Gewehr 98
250 8mm Mauser Ammo
Luger P08
369 9mm Parabellum Ammo
Six MREs
A small flag of the Commune of France

>There are No Other Options
Welp, this was a fun little quicky, and its nice to be back. Expect more from the main series soon. and i hope everyone has a nice day/night
Thanks for running, and could I get a link to the main series thread archive?

Will we ever get to second base with Marie?

"Over the course of the majority of their early history, the Orcish Confederacy was an isolated thing. Oh for sure they engaged in trade with Kilketch, but even that was limited to a single trade post, the Confederacy itself considered little more than a curiosity by most outside of the local provincial government. By and large, things went on the same as they always had done, with little change for anyone."

"Yet this state of isolation was not to last forever. Although vague stories and a few occasional artefacts had made their existence somewhat known, only around the 5th century did the various other nations of the known world at the time truly begin to pay them heed. Where before all the tales had been little more than myths, now actual concrete proof was beginning to come into being, proof of something which may have seemed inconceivable, but felt as though it was growing to be more and more a true reality by the year."

"There was a Confederacy in the northern mountains, a new nation. A Confederacy with a strange monotheistic religion, centred around the mysteries 'King in Yellow'. A Confederacy which bore sages with magic more powerful than anything otherwise known, capable of sculpting rock and flesh with clay. A Confederacy which, although small, seemed to be growing in power and influence by the day."

"A Confederacy of Orcs."


Orc Civilization Quest is back for the summer, and maybe even longer after that! Its been a long time coming now, and I hope y'all enjoy.

>Current Stats: https://pastebin.com/qXYPerak

>Past Threads: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Orc%20Civ%20Quest
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Changing my vote to this >>3586166 it's a better thought out plan
Dubs confirms we will be blessed, so supporting.
Rolled 18, 7 = 25 (2d20)


Alrighty, rolling for actions!
Rolled 64 (1d100)

And idea.
Reinforced caves and shit

The moonlight moves slowly across your body, blank and sightless eyes staring upward. A curious grave fly lands on one still orb and buzzes idly before flying away, startled as your body is jerked once again. The gravedigger wipes his brow with a filth stained hand, his nails black and cracked. The cretins back is bent and bowed, twisted from years of shoveling the black earth of this graveyard. His greasy greying hair hangs limply over his face as he tightens his grip on your ankles, tugging your body along.

Cool, misty air would bring goosebumps to your flesh if you still lived, the vapors coiling over you as your limp limbs drag through the soft earth. Gravestones, markers and shrines cast strange shadows across you as you are pulled like forgotten refuse towards the outskirts of the graveyard. If he had paid attention or had the common sense to check your body, he would notice a mark on your body as the rough dragging pulls at your ragged clothing.

He would see....

>the ragged bite of a ghoul, slick with black venom

>the deep, bloodless bite of a vampire

>a torn, gouging chunk ripped free by a zombie

>a imprint of a hand, burned into you, the brand of a Wraith
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>Go rip the grate free and enter the sewers of the city
I'd like to map out a potential escape route in case things go to shit unexpectedly.
Fuck it, I'll change my previous vote to
>Go rip the grate free and enter the sewers of the city
The corpses will be there when we return. It might be time to explore the territory a bit in a safer manner. At least if the sun rises while we explore we'll be safe.
Sewer Level time!
>>Go scavenge some of those fresh corpses
Crypt you better not have died on us

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In the depths of undeveloped forests, in the shadows of dingy alleyways, in the midst of the glass spires of the rich, forces outside of human ken struggle for dominance over the terrestrial underworld.
This is the world of shadowy wraiths in the backstreets, of eldritch horrors slumbering deep within the sewers. This is a world where sprawling organizations hide behind shell companies, forever conspiring to hide themselves from sight while ancient brotherhoods struggle to uncover their intrigues.
It is a hidden world, a secret world.
It is your world.

Previously on Modern Fantasy Quest
Tristan met the ‘Freelance Competitor Manager’ Delilah, looked through her purse, and asked about job openings in Winterpine City.

Previous Threads
Thread One: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/3356154/
Other Threads:

The boy sat in the dark alleyway, amidst the shadows and refuse and pools of water. Day and night blended together here, the cheap apartments overhead blocking out any light.

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>"Let no man deceive you with vain words."
Why not say the code response and then ask if he's father Cullen?
Are we going to wait for him to put away the spear? He's already dropped his guard. How about this:

>"Let no man deceive you with vain words."
>"Father Cullen?" And lower your sword.
>”Let no man deceive you with vain words … Father Cullen?”

[-1 Pious]
[-1 Erudite]

A man appears to you, quoting bible verses. He might be Father Cullen, he was young, but Father was only a title after all. But still, it was good to check.

“Let no man deceive you with vain words.” You ask.

The young man answers correctly. “For because of these things cometh the wrath of God upon the children of disobedience.” He steps out of his stance, “Well judging by your sword and your question, you’re obviously Templar. But you could have answered my question first, instead of just asking your own …”

Oh … Had his statement been a Templar passcode? There were so many, and his statement had been so mundane for one. You hadn't even realized …

You lower your sword. “All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness?”

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Clothes Shopping Montage Edition

ALL BINS: https://pastebin.com/u/Gobblepokemon
Character info pastebin in progress: http://pastebin.com/iB0tb7rz
Dice odds for best of 3: http://pastebin.com/994WTT3g

Latest bin: https://pastebin.com/MnTZZFQu

General rules:

There is a 10 minute voting period after each post. Non-contradictory votes will be combined as best as possible.
Write-ins for all votes are always welcome and encouraged. They may not all make it into the post or be altered to fit in, but I'll do my best to at least try to address the spirit of the write-in.

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Oh boy I could eat some barbecue about now
Sounds like a plan sometime
Sorry about that. I had the draft open for awhile. It's now sent! I know you'll do great. Let me know when you're running. And I've always wanted to see Seattle, ever since Fraser.
I hear Rhode Island is lovely. I'm a big fan of middle-of-nowhere quiet, tree-filled areas. I love that comfy feeling
I don't really mind the quest ending, I liked it and it was fun, but something being fun is immaterial. I'll find other things that are fun. I post rarely anyway.

I'm just going to miss seeing you every week. Everyone else is anonymous, so I get the impression I already run into them every day in one form or another in the nameless mass. I guess I'll see you there.
Hey, just letting it out there Gobble, I'm not sure just how big of a deviant you are but if you've ever hopped over to give anonkun/fiction. live a look I could probably get you an invite to a discord where a lot of current or former QMs chat and dick around(Lots of lewd posting though so I'm not sure that's you're cup of tea).
Actually that's a good point. Gobble, have you considered simply moving the quest to another site that supports a slower update pace? It sounded like a lot of the issue was the time pressure involved in setting aside a large chunk of a full day just to run the quest. You could do what Exaltedfag or Larro did and just dial things back to one or two updates at a time, when you have the time, instead of blocking out hours on end for a single session. Just putting the idea out there since to my knowledge you've only worked at the 4chan pace and that almost fucked up Vox too, and he's a maniac who seriously considered continuing updates while his tooth disintegrated in his mouth.
>Gobbles pokemon quest is dead


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You would be a sham and a liar if you said you won't miss your cabin. For all purposes, it was the last bastion of civilization for quite some time. The endless chains of mountains cast a dreadful shadow on you, They hide a small fishing town in their bitter bellies, hardly fit for a scholar such as yourself. You were practically the only passenger left, the wise has departed long ago to more habitable places.

You could have stayed in the capital, sipping tea at the comfort of your study room and uplifting lesser minds in the university but no; The allure of this supposed new specimen which emitted a plethora of lights was too strong for you to ignore . Had you not come here , others will surely steal the fame for themselves.

This station was a glorified sty; everything was falling apart, everything stinks. This was to be expected...a terminal station in the every fringe of the empire. Crates of salted fish are waiting for their turn, eager to leave this forsaken place. The wind carries more salt, not like any other...so bitter and unwelcoming. A drop of water, then another and another...

Of course, you longed for some rain to brighten your horrid mood. The few workers idling about were hastened by this act of nature, their meager jobs might be on the line. Once you dragged your luggage away from the rain, you considered your options:

There was a small boarding house for the occasional stranger. It didn't look promising but it is a roof over your head. you prefer trekking the mountain trail without the threat of rainfall slipping your carriage to the abyss. No doubt, they'll leech any Goz they could get their filthy hands on.

You could just hire a carriage instead and be done with it. Your two choice were eyeing you like a pack of starving wolves huddled together away from the rain. The one with the fairer carriage had a mad eye, a row of wicked teeth and lots of empty bottles of cheap wine. His horses are fine, nothing to speak about.

The other was skin and bones, much like his horses. Wearer of tatters and Bearer of pagan symbols drawn all over the carriage. A Literal fishhead for an ornament? He could be a native, Yes, he must be...still clinging to his old hosh-posh. His carriage is none the better, made of unrefined materials.

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You'd prefer
but, respecting her hospitality,
>As your heart desires
Eager to taste local cuisine
Looks like i got something wrong somehow, i will redo this in another thread with a proper trip and faster paced start, unless you are fine with how things are at the moment
>As your heart desires.
things are fine what did you do?

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