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File: Pyther.png (771 KB, 1399x1152)
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And an old city,
Alight with a captured star
Choking on its own dust.

The shadows here have teeth and claws and intent.
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Rolled 42, 63, 89, 68 = 262 (4d100)

What adaptions from what odd creatures dog Irons light thread? What steel of what make did they bind into those blue eyes? What odd sinew connect his glenohumeral articulations?

10 vs 12 - Pass by 2
17 vs 10 - Fail by 7.

The House of the Bonded specialise in the explorations of the natural world. The forges of the enigmatic cultist priests spew forth the sigilcraft and the automaton servitors that scrub the deep harbor for traces of rot and the clockwork pidgeons that carry traces of the mail along the royal roads.

And if you ask them real nice, and you don't have too many ethical quandaries, the apprentices are always looking for new subjects!

Parts and interests acquired elsewhere help the work, but ..

Pass by 2:

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>Spend 9 AP to Investigate the effects of Sigilplated
The fields of combat tests not only one's skill, but one's will.
>Visit the fields of valor

"At last I managed to escape the grasp of those custodians... Wait were am I?... Is that a coliseum? Oh well maybe I'll learn something more useful here than in the archives"

>9! Test my Sigilplate and mass produced plate

AP 10 | HT 11 | Focus 9
Grit 4 | Reaction 7 | Threshold 0
Speed 1.5 | DR 3
[Little homes, little deaths] Roll focus to resist
[Scars] +1 grit
Blade 8

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Rolled 6, 2, 1 = 9 (3d6)

>field of valor: test offensive capability of shields
Rolled 1, 5, 1 = 7 (3d6)

>Inform everyone else of what I found in the Ceterion crate, and how an alchemist would be the best lead on what they were using it for. An alchemist like the one Shiv was going to meet with.
>Head to the Field of Valor to test my new gifts, particularly Changes.

Survivor: +1 Grit +1 HT +1 Speed
Volariel's Rainbow Cloak
Tricks: Footwork

AP 9 HT 0 Focus 18
Grit 1 Reaction 5 Threshold 4
Speed 2

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Finally after two years in the service of the Dark Queen Quintis you have finally been promoted. No more marching through filthy peasant villages administering the Queen's justice, this is your chance to rise through the ranks of her Majesty's armies and become one of her generals, or so you thought. Being placed in a garrison out in the middle of nowhere wasn't the promotion you had imagined, but after the death of your commander, your rise through the ranks seemed that much more possible. Through your leadership, your garrison holds its ground through an assault and infiltration by rebel forces and manages to capture two of its heroes. After transporting the two of them to the Capital, Queen Quintis decided to promote you to Captain and to add you to her collection of personal agents.

Ignoring his comment you press him further, “You have to know something, how do you get paid, how often is it, how much.”

The mercenary bursts out laughing “I’m not the fucking quartermaster am I. I don’t know whose paying us all I know is that he’s paying”

“Would you like me to start removing your toes then? One for every answer I don’t like.” You declare coldly, staring the man down.

>Last hurrah, give me some d20+3s

>Full Plate Armor
>Plate of the Savior’s Mercy (once per in game day you will survive a mortal blow)

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Thread is now archived, we will pick up with these votes next thread.

In the mean time feel free to ask me anything, and if I find time in-between my finals and studying, I might just answer them!
good luck on those man, around when do you think you'll be done with them?

My last one is Thursday night and I'm heading home the next morning so the next actual thread will start some time Friday or Saturday
That curse was awesome, we may need to get back at that mage one day tho.

You may meet him again one day, possibly one day soon. If you survive that long.

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We play as Percy a 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

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I believe we received confirmation that that particular Mankey was eventually put down by the shelter. It was too unruly to effectively keep contained, and they couldn't find a trainer for it.
i know and i double checked but it was only implied that Percy assumed it had to be put down

also mediocre gave us this
>"There was a reason for this violent behavior, even worse than the one of a normal Mankey, but that would be spoilers"
Hm, it’s likely to be that Mankey, then. Thought we got more solid confirmation, but has been quite some time now, so you’re probably right. I’d thought that there was some connection between that Mankey and the Arsonist’s Primaeape at the very least as well, but if it’s been left up in the air as to whether he actually got put down or not, then it being the very same Pokémon would make sense.
Glad you like it QM, looking forward to tomorrow. (*゚▽゚*)
New Thread


File: XCOM TROOPER QUEST OP 2.png (607 KB, 1600x900)
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XCOM Barracks, XCOM Hq, North America

“No offense Dozer, but you are seriously the absolute last person I’d pick for ANY stealth mission. Ever.”

You give Rachel a look while Naru and Sweet snicker. You were honestly hoping for a bit of reassurance from your team but they’re a bunch of smartasses.

Well, it’s good to know they’ll handle themselves while you and the others are gone. It’s a fair thing to say at face value. An Assault leading a covert ops team of all people? But with the mysterious EXALT attacking XCOM and the Council in it’s wallet, you have been chosen to lead a small team to learn more about these new enemies.

Wraith-1 is what your new team has been christened. Has a nice ring to it.

“Oh don’t give me that look I’m just giving you some shit.” Rachel smirks. “Shame not everyone could tag along, really.”

“You’re just bummed out that you can’t show off with your fancy schmancy ninja MEC suit.” Naru rolls her eyes.

The pair of MELD modified troopers begin to bicker again.

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>Tiger 2
I see we have people with good taste in this thread.
Seems we hit some kind of bump limit anyway, its not going any higher in the catalog no matter what.
You have managed to get an audience with a information broker. A useful find for the operation. However it is not a meeting to merely be trifled with. Information brokers are notorious for being extremely particular of what they value as worthwhile. From where you were brought to, this is a broker with proper clout.

The elevator is ascending to the top floor of one of the wealthier hotels in the city. While you were approached by the thug in a rougher part of town, you were escorted here. You are not surprised though. These information brokers are either extremely paranoid and reclusive or simply see themselves as so useful it would be detrimental for everyone if they perished. This broker is clearly the latter. The thug knew what type of man you are, or were. He assumes you are a criminal of high ranking and repute, which you were until joining XCOM.

Upon arrival at the top floor of the hotel, the security posted seem to solidify your assumption. Every corner and hallway has at least one guard or camera to keep an eye on you. But not a lot. There's just enough of a guard detail for basic safety, but nothing else. This broker thinks of themselves as important to the criminal ecosystem he doesn't need any more men.

You note there is only one strange oddity that the hallway around his room has zero security. There isn’t even a door guard. That is clear sloppiness that confuses you. If an assassin were to make it here, it would be trivial to break into the room of the broker. The thug mutters disapproval as well to himself at the guard detail.

Your escort leads you to the entrance of the hotel's penthouse suite and announces his presence in rusty Spanish. A flustered voice replies back from behind the door, beckoning entrance quickly. Before entering, you take a steady breath and steel yourself. Your brother was always the better negotiator, but you’ve picked up a few things from him. Ready, you step in.

The room is what you’d expect. It's luxurious and with amenities and decor that exudes wealth and indulgence in every inch of the room. You spot a stocked bar, piano, a bear rug, large windows with a view of the city below and other expensive comforts to name a few. There's a balcony and of course it has a jacuzzi because why wouldn’t it. One has to be a very rich individual to afford this suite… but that doesn’t catch your attention. A smell does.

The smell is everywhere in the room. Or smells, perhaps. A meal of some kind that lingers over the entire suite, but it is nothing ordinary. A noxious fume that has been attempted to be smothered by as much aromatic spices and herbs as possible. You are no chef, but you can smell a menagerie of aromas to try and snuff out the disgusting smell. But it is to no avail, it lingers, pervasive in the air. For some reason… in this maelstrom that attacks your nose, the poisonous aroma seems… No, you can’t quite place it...

(1 / 2)
The smell is confusing and awful.

Your escort starts to retch for a moment and covers his nose and mouth. He nearly drops the butterfly knife he had been twirling the entire time onto his foot, the smell having hit him that hard. Only barely do you save your own composure. You still cough and wince visibly at the pungency of the room. Reluctantly, the thug continues forward, which he regrets with every step. You follow, even as you start to consider if this was all actually worth it.

The information broker seems to resemble as an extremely vain type of man. He is of latin ethnicity, in his late 30s. He takes great interest in being presentable and attractive yet his actual physical features just simply do not mesh. His face is pudgy and soft from decadence. The gym is the last thing in his mind. He wears gold necklaces and other jewelry to show his wealth further, and everything else you can think of in an attempt to impress women.

He is currently in an odd predicament at the moment. Once you realize what it is, you are put on alert.

The broker is standing in front of a table where a seemingly lavish meal has been prepared for him. It has all the things you’d expect a high class restaurant would provide. Fine quality cutlery and plates and the like. The meal before him however… is nothing you’ve ever seen before on a plate.

The meal is a large steamed crab leg.

It must be one of the largest crab legs you have ever seen and the source of the aroma. It is a single crab leg as well, but the leg is as thick and as your own leg. There is more than enough meat within it to satisfy four people. The massive crab leg has been steamed and cooked for such a long time the color of the carapace had turned the leg bone white and it was cooked seemingly longer. You can see all manners of preparations was made extensively to smother the smell and make it presentable... yet it lingers.

The man is currently struggling with bolt cutters to try and crack the outer shell open for the meat within. A simple crab cutter or mallet long tossed aside at this point. His face has turned red from the exertion and he’s propped his foot on the mahogany desk for leverage as he tries to break the shell. It refuses to even crack. He curses in Spanish, tossing the bolt cutters on the desk in frustration. You notice he’s wearing a nose plug.

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>Break the shell alone and with flair. Possibly with a kung-fu strike.

In which our main character tries free from the shackles of the past

They say this planet used to be...greener and and alive...more civilized and peaceful. I don't know bout that. Who can imagine Nova Europa without rads out of the ass and humans bickering (again) over what little resources left?

Well, It is not up to me to be the judge of that. I dunno why i am writing this crap. I got no food, no clean water and my legs are pretty banged up. I am afraid for my little baby girl. S-

You didn't bother reading the rest, you feed the journal to the campfire. The whimpering of the little squirt never stopped, her dumbass dad made it so easy for you to track them down. Unmasked Muta-signatures gotta attract something and boy oh boy, she is ripe with them .

It was entertaining to watch the kid squirming in her bondage, like a little worm. She is a good catch but is she enough for Momma Yagrinne? She gave you three days to unfuck the bomb collar after....well, let's not talk about this.

"Shoo! Shoo!" You scared an old Mutty away. It scurried away in a flash. Mutties are what you get when you mix rads with Mutts from Old Europa and a little sprinkle of 'alien' critters diet. Short (rarely long if the genetic lottery is right) lifespan and voracious appetite for pretty much anything that moves. the old mutty was too weak for anything. He could make a nice meal if it weren't for his high Zeon levels. You don't wanna anything of that.

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"Good Meat. She will be a fine dinner in no time. Come, I havea an important task for you..."


"....so i pounded his little ass like there is no tomorrow! Then BAM! A plasma shot to the head, the look of his mom was priceless. She watched me grilling the fucker. " Mongarus guzzled more Sunshy piss while chewing on rib meat. The rest laughed and cheered, everyone was having fun while Momma sat on head of the table watching in silence.

"yo, yo tell em about hat one time with...excuuuse me bitches and bitc..hes..." Londcray burped for the last time before passing out. The piss is too strong for the kid.

"What he's talkin bout?"

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>I...Where am i?
Nice trips, Satan.
>Can't you...see my tits, you...you...fuc...[female]
What creature are we?
gotta sleep
continue later
>I...Where am i?

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A fantasy RPG
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Rolled 52 (1d100)


>"Very! Tell me more about yourself."

Ikara: "Well along with my main project I aid my colleagues with their research and experiments. As the only transmuter in the organization I'm pretty important. My powers are often used to fabricate items and create secret passage ways in the base. I also did most of the work making our golem. Honestly they'd be nothing without me. Anyway for now I'm just perfecting my philosopher's stone, after that who knows? I'll have to move on to greater projects."

As she blathers you hear Alina speaking quietly to Salaman.
Alina: "Hey um Salaman, isn't Cloudshout *your* name?"
Salaman: "Yes why?"
Alina: "That woman has the same last name as you, do you know her?"
Salaman: "Huh I wasn't listening what's her name?"

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should have totally tried to flirt with her though, regret that now
I was not expecting that.
Well, at least he only barely came down on the side of his sister.

So, we need to non-fatally defeat two spell casters at once.
I'm thinking we might need to dust off our signature move.
Unfortunately, Salaman is quite familiar with it and we're already in a good spot tactically.
Really, once Salaman makes his intentions clear, we should keep a grip on her arm, hold her between us and him, lift our hammer to hold the handle against her throat if she starts casting, and try to talk him down.
If it goes poorly, then we try to signal Alina to deploy the Maneuver.
Of course, to not let Sal know, we'd have to uses some sort of elaborate coded eyebrow wiggling that we never bothered to learn, which would anyway probably just confuse Ulric into thinking that we're flirting with Alina ...or him.
I'm not saying that the plan doesn't have problems, but it's a work in progress.
I think we should power attack her head with our hammer faster then they can cast
>inb4 her head pops like a Gallagher melon.

Going to your given bedroom you take a few minutes to stand in place, before the door once you had already entered. "At least the light's a bit healthier..." you thought, constantly comparing things in which you think with frustration: "Ugh, I really need to stop this!..." Moving out of place, the floor boards creaking with an unnoticeable sound, you fall on your bed to feel the cushion of its mattress, the stress in your back and towards the base of your wings subsiding.

Again, you fall in another period of deep reflection. In the end you didn't come up with any insight or conclusion, it only made you sink into the figurative mud to which you return to your senses after a while longer. A muffled sound could be heard from the wall that's perpendicular to the once nearest to you; it can't discern the noise, and so, you stay and listen.

> Ignore it and go to sleep.
> Put your ears against the wall to listen more clearly.
> Write-in

Prev. Thread >>3065777
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>> *Entangle Lavinia to free yourself*
If I give you an inch you'll take a mile, so hell no.
> *Entangle Lavinia to free yourself*
No. I want you dressed.
> *Entangle Lavinia to free yourself*
New thread: >>3089906

File: KitS OP.png (895 KB, 850x600)
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>Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Kingdoms%20in%20the%20Stars
>Twitter: https://twitter.com/bookerman32
>Combat Rules: https://pastebin.com/efKVVsFb
>Quest Theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QJgzvAYgb4Q

The day humanity took to the stars was a day of hope. The Earth had become inhospitable, and it was time to find a new planet to reside. We rallied behind a man who had opened up the universe to us, a new Emperor to lead humanity into the vast expanse of space. All possibilities were opened that day. The stars didn't look any bigger, but instead looked so much brighter. With countless fleets at our side, and a desire in our heart, we held hands and took that first step together into the great unknown. All of humanities petty squabbles had come to an end. Now, we were one force with one common goal. Home. The day that will live on in every history book.

Centuries have passed, and that peace lives only in history. The last Emperor is gone, and the search for a fully habitable planet continues. The Unity of humanity is broken, torn apart by anger and differences in philosophy. Three main fleets served as the new banners, the new Kingdoms in the Stars.

Camelot, the regal and militaristic, rallied behind their Queen Julia Porter.

Athens, the diplomatic and innovative, rallied behind their President Apollo.

Shinto, the traditional and battle-hungry, rallied behind their Chieftain Sun Boros.

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>Ending Theme




Thanks for playing! That concludes the Yellow Turban arc! Follow the Twitter for any updates on the next session!

>Player Question

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>>Player Question
Tao is definitely one of my favourite types of villains, the one who truly believes in what they say even to their own downfall, so of course I liked him in this. Marco's biochip was a bit of a deus ex, but it was set up so I can't really complain, as for whats next, probably some mini arcs with metis chasing us while we do small side stuff which eventually leads to the dong arc.

1. Good intentions, but horrible execution
2. He's a water bender. Good combo with our plants. Use a cactus and soak up all the water.
3. I expect lots of swimsuit mishaps.
>Shaman Tao

Tragic villain. Also a dumbass blinded by his own hype. I don't feel all that sorry for him.

Expected, but cool!

Swimsuits! Also hopefully some alone time with Krista...
Marco's gonna fucking die by murder, one thing I've learned from basically every piece of medium ever is that the shitty prophecies always come true, only question is when. Also Shaman Tao quite literally blew up his own book over karma given to him by his parents as a weapon, which was also the only thing he had ever gotten from them. Sure, he's dead now so he won't feel any real regret over it, but if he had survived that woulda been a little sad, along with his dead bros.

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Thread XCI:
Got closing shifts the next couple days so I can get a few posts in early and skirt the active hours. Would have run sooner, but have been helping out with the family since my father's managed to tear up the tendons in his leg. Nevertheless, lets have a good one.

Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Lamia%20Legacy%20Quest
Twitter: https://twitter.com/LamiaLegacy
Opening Theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RCQmQwKEEOM
Story Thus Far: https://pastebin.com/WT9ayv5n
Season: Spring

Money: 5265

Sasha: Skill list
Ranching +4
Scholar +3
Marksmanship +6

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>this still exists
>its shambling along with 2 players
I don't know why I come to /qst/ sometimes. It just makes me sad.
Participate too if you want things to get better.
I'd like to not be the only one dictating how things go
You think about it for a few moments, "Well, probably to make as much money as possible. If I had to guess, he's using us for this end, which is what I expected when I got a loan from him. He's put as much effort into getting my own plans working as he has because he thinks it'll make him richer for it too. Now, if he goes and tries to cheat us, I'm going to make damn certain that he immediately regrets that decision very personally."

"I don't see how that'll stop him from turning on us the moment he can." Marie says, unconvinced.

"I believe that, so long as our goals, to make money, and his, also to make money, align to make both of us money, we should be fine. Now, I trust him about as far as I can throw him, but I'd say that all we have to do starting off is make sure to get all of this paid off and he won't really be able to do anything. Worst case scenario is probably him convincing the army that we're doing something illegal and taking our land afterwards, but I somehow doubt that that's his plan."

McCain expands upon your statement, "And with our connections to the Nitor, the chances are incredibly slim that a government response will go down in his favor."

"I don't know about that." Marie says, causing you to stare at her quizzically. "Correct me if I'm wrong. You're sitting on the only inlet the UFK has into the Casimiran lands. We've got a baker's dozen of foreign professional mercenaries. All exclusively loyal to you, their kids, growing up and learning the trade from their parents. Another group of five mercenaries, led by the daughter of one of the UFK's heroes, AND are secretly harboring the real Matthew McCain, who to public knowledge is one of the Nitor's biggest traitors, and who's official 'death' was confirmed by the Nitor after his imposter's body was found on your land. Doesn't take a few mismanaged rumors to portray you has a disruptive element holding a virtual trading smörgåsbord hostage."

>Smörgåsbord, really?
>Assuage her concerns. (Specify rebuttal.)
"What would it gain him, though? If he were to spread such rumors and get the government to bring the hammer down on us, he would lose all of this to the UFK. They're not going to let him have a monopoly on this land over us. Rather, they'd take possession of this land and make it public and start doing exactly what I'm doing now.
To each point specifically:
Anyone who's been attacked on a semi-regular basis would hire guards. Nothing odd about that, and even if that does go around, we're going to be relocating the majority, if not all, of them to Purobka soon enough. No one will see them here, so, if someone comes by asking, we'll tell them the truth: They moved and found a home for themselves.
As for Liama and her's, wouldn't that make people think we're even more on the level? Yes, she's known as a bit of a troublemaker, but so were both of her mothers, honestly.
Next, McCain is dead as far as the world is concerned. Why would anyone think that he wasn't, especially when the Nitor themselves declared him to be dead? You'd need someone pretty high up in the Nitor themselves declaring publicly that they were mistaken about his death for most anyone to believe something so ridiculous.
Finally, we're not charging that much on the traders we have been bringing over. Most of that is guide, guard, and translator fees. We will continue to not charge them more than we really do for them as trade picks up. They may only have one option for storage and lodging before going over, but they can learn the language as they choose and they can bring their own guards, and they can learn the rout up there.
Even if we /are/ a disruptive element, we're far from holding the trade rout hostage. We simply are the only ones capable, at the moment, of doing anything to facilitate any trade."
Another thing about the mercs, we're in the middle of nowhere and the closest help is half a day away by cart/carriage.

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One night all alone when the sky was dark, sat alone a manchild a week before Christmas, no love to warm his heart.

Only darkness and gloom as he sat on the web, browsing 4chan no less making fun of the plebs. 'Boo on them, and on everyone else having fun' he thought. As back and forth in his recliner he rocked.

'This season is capitalist, it's hollow and vacant; Of any meaning other than what the bankers gave it. So what if a few celebrate the birth of Christ, it was actually historically closer to spring, so even the Christians can't enjoy their thing. Besides, they stole it from pagans, I watched a special on that by Carl Sagan.'

His home was void of any Christmas decorations. Void of stockings and tinsel and other Christmas creations. He would see none of it this year. Too cynical, jaded and lazy. Decorating the house? What are you crazy?

And it was at this time catching up on his shows, drowning his sorrows in fictional woes.

He heard a knock at his door, he wasn't expecting company. But he'd send them packing for interrupting his sanctity.
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> "What trickery have you come before me with? A busty hoe here trying to peddle her shit? Well your luck has run dry I have not a cent, for a charlatan elf so go and get bent."
"Away, away, this guileful guise. Wherefore do me this wrong?
To think you'd feed me lies that I have known for lies so long.
I've not a thing for you to steal, nor take with me to grave.
Beware and spare me this ordeal - and get thee hence, you knave!"
Listen here lady, you and I both know how the world works and that a cute girl showing up at my doors without intention to commit fraud or size me up for robbery are akin to those of a dragon offering an honest deal.
Good day to you.
>"What trickery have you come before me with? A busty hoe here trying to peddle her shit? Well your luck has run dry I have not a cent, for a charlatan elf so go and get bent."
>Nut on her forehead

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Previous thread

We were going into a dungeon with Mai to level her up, and had decided to favor loot to go back with gifts for the Alquian shadoes, as they seem to be using [Fine] weapons (which is fine, really) but nothing of higher quality.

Thus, we're riding on top of one of Fleur's hydra-like shambling mounds (on it's back? Looks like the back but its a plant, so on the bark?) while hugging our pet flower from behind as she directs the plant monster, with Mai sitting next to us, leaning back on her hands as she crosses her legs and comments about what a cheat our plant is.

"It's alright because she's cute." - we reply while rubbing her head (gently, since she has petals rather than hair)
"Is that how it works?"
"It is." - we repeat

"Ah, Master, love you." - cooes Fleur softly

Oooh, she's being extra cute today... but we're still not letting her eat the loot.

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>It seems good enough for its next mission. We need data, so let's send it asap
>>It seems good enough for its next mission. We need data, so let's send it asap

can i get a thread description?
"We spend fun times with Mai, then go around properly working and getting stuff done"

Too long?
>Too long?

Its good.
We need to spend a day with Ami, too. And if Ami and Mai were like that, I wonder how Mia and the other of Ren's Shadows are taking things.

This is a story about a man in a forest he was never meant to enter, and his fight for his humanity, freedom, and life, within it.

Actions are freeform, though once per action sequence you may, if you desire, ask for suggestions. I will try to wait until i get 3-5 suggestions, or 15-30 minutes has passed. Action taken will be based on popular consensus, or as tie breaker the most interesting action(not, per say, the smartest).

I will keep track of the inventory, to be posted upon request.

With that, enjoy.

Previous Thread:


Summary so far:

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Deciding to go after Don, you slip the keys into your pocket and spin around the corner after him. If he did need help, you were sure, or at least hoped, it could be solved easier than a gun fight, and you didn't want to leave him hanging for aid if he needed it now.

Much like the left, the right path had five doors, being basically a mirror of its sister. You spot a door towards the inner wall shut, and stroll toward it, hoping to catch up with the man. Opening the door, it seemed to lead downwards much like the similar one on the left path, but the sound of machinery was muffled or gone, implying that whatever rooms were down here didn't connect, at least not directly.

Slipping out your new lantern, you flick it on, holding it up as you step down onto musty, creaky steps,the air tinged down here with a hint of dust and mold, as you descend into the unknown abyss.

Upon reaching the bottom, you still don't spot Don, the only path a straight line to your right, looking long enough to go beyond the houses foundation. It seemed like lights once adorned it ceiling, long burnt out, though you couldn't find a switch to actually test that theory out with. Your skin crawls a bit as you stare down the path, wondering just what Don was doing down here, any and all things you knew about him bringing up idea you would rather not be a part of, but you nevertheless march forward, pushing paranoia away as best you can.

The path was a bit longer then expected, but was strangely silent, the walls somewhat textured, eating up a good bit of the reverberations. Finally, you reach the end, being met with a large, metal door, gray paint chipping, rust poking out from underneath. As you reach for the knob, a thought hits you hard as you freeze.

How had Don even known this was here? This certainly was not a normal adornment to a mansion basement, and he was both worried but unhesitant in his stride towards here, as if he knew what to expect.

You shake you head, gripping the knob and twisting it. You were overthinking this. Or hopefully, even if you weren't, simply too lacking in actual information. Slowly pulling the surprisingly silent door open, you shove your lantern forward as you step forward into the room. Only one sure way to figure out what was going on, afterall.

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Old blood and rot hits you like a wave as you cover your mouth, gagging, the door stopping against the wall as you take in the interior before you. Old and rusted metal, bed frames and tables, fill the area, a few cages too. Long since spoiled and dried blood covered things here and there, what must of been gore in some places now rotted into black dried tar. the room seemed to go on and on, a large expanse of decay and death.

“What the hell?” You whisper out as you cautiously step forward, lantern out front, hand firmly on the grip of your gun. Then you swerve, lantern swinging as your gun aims. Something skittered by to your left, far off. You know it, you swear on it. Eyes now wide, you scan the expanse, nervously stepping back to keep the wall to your back, somehow thankful for the low ceiling as you scoot further in, slowly using a foot to close the door nigh silently.

As insane as it was, as little as you wanted to be in here alone with something... you didn't want to let it out either, without knowing what it was. You idly wonder just what the hell Don had come down here for as you make your way further in, nearly firing as you swear you caught just a skimmer of something once again, the murky darkness making you wonder if you were just hallucinating.

You nearly jump out of your skin as something brushes you back, spinning to aim, only to find you had simply brushed into another doors knob. Not wanting to stick to this room, you grab the knob and swing it open, rushing in and closing the door quickly. And instantly regret it as you slam your hand over your mouth, eyes burning as you go wide.

It was, well, you could only begin to guess. The room was much smaller, but still decently sized. Rows, and rows, of baby carriages fillex the room, skinlike, rotting egg shells in and around the floor of the things, a weblike decayed substance all over the things. It was, or had been a hatchery.

Dons words echo in your head. 'spider fuckers.’ you guess you just hadn't expected the birthrate to be anywhere near that of an actual spiders.

You shudder, coughing as you notice one carriage knocked over near the wall, the rotted remains of a full crushed egg next to it. You quickly turn and grab the knob, wishing nothing more then to leave this hell, before you instinctually snap your gun to a carriage far off along the front row, as it twitches.

Your heart pounds, your eyes shake, the silence like a pressure as you stare, mind reeling as you notice just over the rim something that makes you question many things. An intact egg, the size of a damned basketball, lay inside of the carriage.

And it had twitched. Surely it was a trick of the light, your mind playing tricks on you.

Until it twitched again. Your mind reels, suddenly finding your hand off the knob and helping press you to the wall behind the door, gun aimed firmly at the thing. It couldn't still be alive, surely not. This place was old, and in this forest that meant alot more than usual. It should be dead, rotted, a failed hatch. But... maybe it wasn’t, and you weren't sure what that even meant.

Or what you should do about it.

(Action required)
>Shoot first, ask questions later.
(The befriending strategy is less viable when the monster can toy with you like a puppet)
Response posted in the new thread.


Gobble Once Again Forgot To Update the Card Edition

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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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Careful there, Icarus.
>using any form of contraceptive when laying with a Fertility Priestess.

It's like you want your crops to wither and die.
Archived for you gobble
[Thanks! Also, thread in an hourish!]
[We're live!]

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[tw: flashing colors]

>Cut off the puppet's strings.

There once was a puppet
Who lived in a box
Tucked away, hidden away,
A chest sealed with locks

But the little girl, all alone
Was desperate for more friends
And without time for amends
Ravaged and broke the locks
And with such unusual desire,

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Check her body.
Get puppet to a bed
>Get puppet to a bed
>Get puppet to a bed
i hope we can carry her
Wait a minute...this isn’t a Five Nights at Freddy’s quest in disguise, is it?

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>this is a my first quest...so bare with me here...it's gonna take awhile to get good. if you got any suggestions, tell at the end of the session or in brackets. thanks for anyone who sticks around.

You’ve just recently won the lottery today by a small margin. You were beginning to think this whole thing was rigged from the get go. fortunately, the lottery announcement just a had mistype at the last moment.

To celebrate, you thought about going on vacation with friends would nice. Working at stressful office job has been mentally draining you for weeks. Quickly, you head for the door and unlock it. You walk onto the sidewalk and dig into you jean pockets for a key.

You slip. The keys fall out your hands before landing onto the road. You dash into the middle of the street to get it. Before you know it…SLAM. A car speeds over you, knocking you down into the pavement.

The insides of your head shatter into pieces as blood drips into a deep puddle of scarlet. Life flashes before your eyes until everything goes dark.

suddenly, the dark begins to shift away as a blazing light appears before you. it stands in the horizon, serving as warmth in this cold bleak void.

“This is not your time yet. Once your days are numbered may you move on to the light.”

>it's time to move on...shall you take a second chance?
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Outside eh? Never once has a roach come to the outside and live to tell the tale. Who wouldn’t? The place was riddled with things that could kill a roach in an instant. Vicious ants, swarming wasp, and prowling spiders littered the lawns of bob’s apartment and no one dared enter it.

Getting this done quickly as possible is your main priority right now. Get the ingredients, dash off, and you’re done. All you have to do is find out where to go first. Debs stooped down then slip under the crack of bob’s door. Despite her frame, she was just flat enough squeeze through with no problem. You do the same and slip through the door crack and in to the outdoor stairs.

Debbie looks left to right before turning towards you. “Seems…pleasant. Way less scary than the tales our older siblings use to tell us. Right Dusty?”
“Well…I mean, they weren’t that scary…and c’mon, we nymphs back then” Dorito scoffed, squaring his shoulders. Debbie rolled her eyes and crawled down the steps pointing to the lawn.

Where should ya go now?

> Bush
> Garden
> Grass lawn
> pond
Gotta stay away from those nasty birds.
alright. gonna write in a bit.

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