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

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

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

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

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The Eternal Empire has stood for 14 millennia and has endured hundreds of wars, calamities, and rulers of every type. You are the latest and are founding your own dynasty, the 20th in galactic history. Only time will tell if you will lead the Etetnal Empire well.

Who are you?
>The top shareholder of Amasoft Corp. When the treasury went bankrupt, you bought the throne. (+1 Economy)
>A fierce admiral and notorious warhawk. When the emperor grew weak, you overthrew him. (+1 Military)
>The hero of the revolution. When the noble houses betrayed their oaths, you established an enlightened despotism. (+1 Happiness)
>One of billions of normal citizens. When the last dynasty ran out of heirs, you were chosen as a puppet. (+1 Population)
161 replies and 4 images omitted. Click here to view.
Clodagh Rose Heinrich
>What do you want to name your thirdborn daughter?
Support if the we can name the fourth daughter Clodagh Rose Heinrich
I'm just shocked you've kept rolling daughters on the genetic dice. This is almost certainly going to be the last of Alphonse and Anna's children.

The earlier 1d4 was a Bo1 and I should have specified it. I'll explain the mechanics on dynasty expansion some more.

By default, when an Emperor is working across the Empire, he can visit the Empress often enough for 1 pregnancy, which can result in anywhere from 0 to 3 (unlikely) children, but almost always 1. If the Emperor is away from the Empire, campaigning, exploring, or negotiating, he won't be able to visit home at all.

If an Emperor stays in the imperial court for a decade, he can spend more time with his family, including the Empress, and can help raise his children directly instead of leaving it to the Empress and their tutors. The only downside to this is that the Emperor isn't able to actively reign.

Luckily, nobody was hurt. That could've been a tragedy.
I'm guessing even was girls and odds were boys?

1= no children
2-3= 1 child
4-5= 2 children
6= 3 children

Your life is miserable. You work a dead-end job, you live alone in a dingy apartment owned by a landlord you hate, and you barely have the energy to pursue any of your hobbies. One day, during one of your sporadically provided off-days, you are met with an impossible floating screen. Glowing a dazzling gold, the semi-transparent tablet reads: "Congratulations. You have been deemed as the best candidate for the incarnation of a divinity. Will you proceed with the deification process?"

You scroll down and are met with...

What is your gender?

Which of the following do you find the most compelling?
>A force of nature
>An aspect of humanity
>A blight
111 replies and 3 images omitted. Click here to view.
>General Information and FAQ

Please skip to the last post if you want to avoid the info dump.

>General Information:

The incarnation system has been established to utilize humanity’s latent power to bring about an evolution in the human species. Individuals with sufficient <Divinity> and a high <Synchronization Rate> with a <Myth> were chosen as Incarnations, individuals capable of controlling divine <Authorities> or skills.


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>Subjugation and Eliminations

When you destroy another incarnation, you are capable of subsuming their Influence, and one or more of their <Authorities>, as well as acquiring their <Myths> as <Epithets>.

>Synchronization Rate

Your <Synchronization Rate> Determines the extent to which you embody the nature of a <Myth>. Synchronization rate can never decrease, because, as an incarnation, your actions and personality actively serve to rewrite the relevant <Myths>. Reaching certain milestones with <Synchronization Rate> provides certain benefits.


Whenever you subjugate another incarnation or achieve certain special conditions, you will receive an <Epithet>. <Epithets> are full <Myths> that you can acquire secondarily to your primary one. Should the <Synchronization Rate> of an epithet ever surpass that of your primary <Myth>, you will undergo a forced <Deification> process, dramatically altering your <Status>.


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>Q) Is it possible to delete authorities or epithets?

A: Yes. However, it cannot be done by accident and, once done, cannot be reversed

>Q) Does an evil <Myth> necessitate an evil incarnation?

A: In actuality, very few <Myths> are truly evil. Even forces that are harmful to humans like natural disasters, monsters, and conditions like famine or drought are generally not inherently evil, merely working on a completely different paradigm to mortals. As for truly evil <Myths> like representations of crimes or evil itself, while it is possible for an incarnation to change for the better after deification, it is wise not to trust them.

>Q) Can I opt out?

A. Yes. Another person will be accepted as an Incarnation of your <Myth> and you will lose all of your <Influence> and <Authorities>.

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Quick correction, getting an authority from 1 to 3 would cost 300 influence (100 for 1->2 and 200 for 2->3)

Having gained the answers you want, you pass out, getting at least a couple hours of sleep.

You wake up, go to work, and continue using your Authority to weaken the inhibitions of your coworkers. You return home, and once again consider your options:

>If Atë, a deity I've never even heard the name of, can wield this much power, who knows what some of the major gods can do? I need to join my pantheon as soon as possibleand we need to plan a means of survival
>Then again, it's equally plausible that the renown of a god is completely unrelated to their power. If we want to survive, we need to rack up influence through our directive and strengthen our authorities
>The directives are too slow. The amount of power I got from destroying another incarnation was incredible! I need to hunt down my peers and steal their strength
>I should check out my epithets. Maybe I'll find something useful?
>I should take a look at the shop. Maybe I ought to buy something
>I should upgrade an authority!
>Every second I age without using my <Life Insurance> authority, I'm losing permanent vitality in my future immortal body. I need to find a way to earn as much money as possible

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>I should check out my epithets. Maybe I'll find something useful?
>I should upgrade an authority!
>I should take a look at the shop. Maybe I ought to buy something

These three first. One at a time in this order if we can.

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Your name is WALTER HARTWELL WHITE. Today is your 50TH birthday. You are driving your son and yourself to J.P. WYNNE HIGH SCHOOL. What will you do?
11 replies and 2 images omitted. Click here to view.
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Thanks guys! I have been a lot better since last time, and I'm happy to be back :)
>>The WALMART SUPERCENTER. It's a reliable supermarket.
Walmart :D
>EL RANCHO SUPERMERCAGO. It's closer, but it's mostly a grocery.
Buy some bun.
>The WALMART SUPERCENTER. It's a reliable supermarket

Peak has returned.
>The WALMART SUPERCENTER. It's a reliable supermarket.

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Synchronous choir of nature absent fills the spiraling wastes around,
even the self that holds it is abstract in a sense.
Fractal creature no more real than ideas, no more complex than amoebas.

The imitation of life would have continued without entropy not for the Drift.
A rare event of converting currents of thought, it had felt some in the past from time to time
4 replies and 4 images omitted. Click here to view.
>Follow him through the door
From swirling magic to a pony shape because of some fatso. Hope we got a good kick.
Is this a fucking My Little Pony quest?
>Interact with something in the room
That writing near the posters, what is it?
Good to see you back!
That depends on you managing to shed the skin that Eugene wants.
Have fun. >:)

>Follow him through the door

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IN A WORLD ruled by ruthless corporations and full of decay and loneliness, where people turn to porn and gacha games for entertainment, ONE MAN rose above the shit to become the NUMBER ONE ASSASSIN of the legendary the United Assassins Association but then... He vanished. He's been a legend on his own since then, but who gives a shit, honestly?

>Last thread: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2023/5790746/

>There are many fights in this quest, this is how they work.
Some options say [ATTACK] or [DODGE]
When selecting [ATTACK], you must roll 1d100 and call HIGH or LOW (Unless the option says specifies one). Over or under 50. A perfect 50 or two players rolling the same number will have a Bonus. (Dark Side Mode)
When selecting [DODGE], you must simply call HIGH or LOW and the QM will roll before the next post to see if the attack is high or low.

>And now, the tl;dr recap for the gamers out there...
You are Lynn Lionhunt, a 30-ish year old unemployed womanchild, and you've made a terrible mistake.
After getting blackout drunk you accidentally killed the 10th ranked hitman of the UAA.
Now you must rise through the pro assassin ranks. With the help of your handler Arthur "Scott" Bianchi.
And a bunch of other NPCs and weirdos in Santa Destroy.
Ranks #9 and #8 are out of the picture already, though it wasn't easy.

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21 replies and 2 images omitted. Click here to view.
(I've been trying to update for a while but also been getting extremely frustrated with internet issues. Sorry about that.)
No worries. Shit happens.
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You decide to take the most sensible and normal approach to the situation, some may call you boring for it, but walking around them will probably be wise on the long run... Maybe. What are you so cautious for? Blood isn't anything new for you, but you are careful this time anyway.
But you must follow the bloody path anyway, as it leads to your destination anyway... A corpse was sitting close to the entrance.
Whoever was next seemed to want to send a message... Or something. What do they even want here? And why leave a warning? Are they here already?
All those questions dance around your head as you head into the bar of ill repute known as Tit-E-Ripper's. Open 24/7!
Let's walk in, shall we?
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Well, this place certainly reeks of alcohol.
Some low-lifes, druggies and alcoholics hang around on small tables as skimpy outfit waitresses serve the drinks, no sign of any enemies around... Huh, maybe you really will have to just wait.
This place is pretty big though...
There's a big stage on the back (certainly where your target will be tonight...), some unused stripper poles on various places around, some old ass arcade machines, a HUGE collection of drinks both on bottles and barrels... Posters... And what seems like an animatronic of the place's mascot, Tit-E the perverted wolf.
You immediately hate being here.
So... It's 13 PM... Still a long time to go until the scheduled time of the fight.
What will you do in the meantime?

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>Chill. Sit down. Order a drink or two.

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The world was changed. Everyone knew this. They couldn’t help but see it, and recognize it, and only the vainest or most desperate would deny it. There were mountains in the mountains, demons in the darkness. The men of the South were gathering in their masses, their leaders politicking to build alliances of war and commerce. Dragons and their scaly servants rattled with and ululated with ecstatic joy for the fall of the Age of Man, in their bottomless and abyssal caves, allied with their black men and blacker elves, with joy in their pitch-black hearts. The shining city on the hill, Hawksong, was now the sick man of the continent—literally beset by a plague, with its Paladin King dead and his young daughter smothered by his shadow.

After centuries of peace and plenty, all the old horrors were back… But not ONLY horrors.

What most people didn’t know, in those days, was that it was not just an Age of Darkness, or of Dragons, or of Monsters, or of Chaos. This was an Age of Wonders, and Age of Miracles, and Age of Opportunity.

You just weren’t yet sure which side of the scale YOU fell on. You, and Izirina Henzler, and poor Costella Fanucci.

You three, who had journeyed beyond the Realm Material and into the plane-between-planes, who had beheld the Elemental Plane of Fire on your right and the Elemental Plane of Air on your left, and who had allowed them to bleed into your very being even as you swirled into one another. You who had returned to your world changed, not just in body but in soul.
39 replies and 5 images omitted. Click here to view.
Because it allows both Izzy and Costella to be literally and figuratively smokin' hot?
what happens when we clone ourselves now?
>picking physical buffs as a mage over intangibility and a greater connection to the spiritual
Not sure why you think this is a good idea. Plus Costella would have been miserable.
You've never tried before, but now... Well, that IS an interesting question

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Your eyes glaze over as you gaze across the empty room into the unblemished, untouched plain wall of white. There is nothing breaking up the sterile and newly painted surface; it is entirely barren of any bumps, patches of discolouration, or decoration. You let a deep sigh for the umpteenth time as you pace back and forth across the featureless room. Each one of those long sighs comes without thought, as if your body is trying to exhale the roiling stress welling inside your soul. Occasionally, you mumble to yourself, to your past, to memories, words that would have changed events or created new, better ones to take their place.

Finding yourself at the front door through your aimless pacing, you see a clean white envelope lying there alone, solitary on the brown bristled doormat, staring up at you impatiently, waiting, demanding to be opened. You know what it is; it couldn’t be anything else. Within the envelope that has been sitting alone, untouched for days, taunting you, are the grades you achieved in your last year. Your nose crinkles, and your face scowls at the thought of the word achievement being linked to your grades. You know you have failed, which is why it still sits there unmolested because the second you rip open the envelope and gaze within, your belief becomes an immutable certainty. The last year of your life being nothing but an utter unrepentant failure, a total waste.

Continuing your repeated pacing, a curse you’ve been inflicted with for half a week, you enter the only room that is not totally empty. A solitary camping bed sits in the corner of the room with a sleeping bag messily draped across the frame. You have been gifted the money to furnish the place by your father, as well as the apartment itself, but you have not found the energy or drive to push you to do such. Instead, you have moped around your new home. There was some scant talk about the you and your father continuing to live together this year, but the conversation never found a conclusion and died a forgotten death. It could have been a nice place if you or anyone else put in the effort, and it certainly is spacious enough with five distinct rooms. But instead of a home, it is a blank, featureless prison that you are entombed within. Utterly alone and lonely.

Looking out one of the many windows, you watch more droplets of rain coat the transparent surface and dribble down the glass. You’ve always loved the rain. There is something special in the rain that you find resonates within your soul, but you struggle to explain. The rain continues to lash at the window with hundreds of tiny thumps as you stare through into the darkness of night sheathed behind. Finally, deciding you need some fresh air to break free of the oppressive loneliness this prison perpetuates. You grab your coat and walk out of your apartment, with a spiteful step landing on the single shameful letter sitting on your doormat.
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Ah, yes didn't notice that, my bad, late my end. The PC is male.
Iron Man. After the Black Sabbath song.
Killdozer's fine, too, though there is also one of THOSE at Marvel
Iron Man, also voting for a male PC
Male PC please.

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In the dark corners of the Imperium, where shadows writhe and whispers speak of forbidden power, you stand at the crossroads of destiny. The fabric of reality trembles as the call of Chaos echoes through the void, beckoning you to choose a path that will forever alter the course of an Imperial world. Khorne, the Blood God, promises glory in the crimson rivers of war. Tzeentch, the Changer of Ways, whispers secrets that unravel the very fabric of fate. Nurgle, the Plaguefather, extends the gift of resilience through decay. Slaanesh, the Prince of Pleasure, lures with desires that dance upon the edge of ecstasy and excess. Each cult presents a dark covenant, and your allegiance will shape the destiny of the planet upon which you tread. The time has come to embrace the Veil of Shadows and select your pact with Chaos. Choose wisely, for the winds of change carry both salvation and damnation.

Which God do you pledge your soul to?
54 replies and 4 images omitted. Click here to view.
>Whisper influence into your work
These feverish visions make our mundane lives all the more interesting and even... bearable. Our fellow scribes and the workers of this city need a vision of the future that has them in mind and we will bring it to them.
>>Recruit other souls

>Recruit other souls

When in doubt, start a cult!
>Ambitious political solo path
Actually no
I change to

>Dont play their game, learn and understand what each and every servant of Thorne and Thorne himself do. If you know how they act, there is no more fear of being caught in their net of oppression and you will always be two steps away from them each time they make one.

Then the rewards can be taken, recruits from our fellow bunkmates for example, informations, a better role.

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Much lurks in the dark in the world. The land is poor, the weather harsh, and danger lurks in every direction. Chaos looms, perverting and mutating all it touches, while the few devoted enough to truly serve Law become unrecognisable servants to alien gods in their search for stability.

Surrounded by the endless wilderness, a people gather together, and strive to survive, to build lives for themselves and keep the wolves from the door.

>Three votes for our race, please.
20 replies omitted. Click here to view.
Surely Op returns
If not im tempted to continue this in his place, I like the setting so far
>Maimed Evrat was chosen as leader of our people
Governance: Elected leadership

Evrat has knowledge of craftsmanship passed down from generations past. His first decision is of passing his knowledge on to the next generation.
All kids must help out with gathering materials for crafting. When tired, or otherwise unable to gather materials, they must stick close to the forges, to learn techniques from the blacksmiths.
Many oppose this, arguing the kids need to be kids while they can, and have some fun and freedom. Most agree that there is great value in teaching them early however, since our craftsmanship likely is the main reason our people has managed to hold on for so long.

But his next decision is a contentious one: He wants to use a large amount of our edible millet to make alcohol.
He argues that nomads and beastfolk love alcohol, and that we could get better trade agreements by producing some. By being better hosts by offering alcohol, and maybe even sell some. He argues we could barter for more food, and maybe even improve our relations with those passing by.
The main counter argument, is that we desperately need the food, as our diet is already meager. Many argue we would weaken ourselves too much, being unfit to fight back against enemies. Some argue the lack of food leaves a real posibility that we might suffer casualities to starvation.

Evrat is the leader, and his decision is final.
Does he change his mind?
>No, he must be strong in his decision. Tough decisions must be made
>Yes, the people must have their food. Malnourishment is a killer

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>>No, he must be strong in his decision. Tough decisions must be made
Let the booze flow
>Large amounts of millet will from now on be turned into alcohol
Evrat was elected leader, and like it or not, the people must do as he says.
Economy: Millet alcohol and iron products

The alcohol tastes foul, but it sure gets people tipsy fast. After testing the first batch of the product, we have reserved its use as a trading ware. It seems to be most popular with certain beastfolk, likely since they have little to no tastebuds. While not by a lot, we do get better deals from beastfolk traders.

It is now summer, and the weather is not at its hottest. The winds are no longer that chilly, but it serves as a reminder that the weather can only get worse from now on.

With the recent success of the millet alcohol, many are now more dedicated than ever to harvest as much as possible, so we can trade for even more food. A certain optimism not felt in a long time permeates the small town. The people want to make a small temple where they can pray without interference from the weather.

Evrat thinks a temple is frivolous, and has other plans. He wants to produce tools for digging. With the warmer weather, the soil is no longer cold and frozen, making it easier to dig a ditch around our rampart, so we are better defended against any future attacks. With the tools we can make future farming easier too, altough we currently have little to plant right now.

Do we make a ditch?
>Yes, defence is paramount.
>No, the people need their temple.

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>>Yes, defence is paramount.
We'll build a temple after we have the means for protecting it

You are Fiona Jarnafeldt, Level 1 Helsinki Stormwatch agent. Your job is to weed out the criminals and mutated aberrations that lurk in the stormdrains below the Finnish capital. With enough time and effort, you hope to be promoted to Level 3 and earn the right to start a family – a luxury not afforded to all in this new world. By order of the world organization Mother Nature's Providence, the population of each city cannot stay higher than one million, and all of planet Earth one billion. For the child you want to have to be a part of that number, you have to fight.

It has been five weeks since you first arrived in Helsinki and met your mentor, L3 Trollslayer Lalli Kiikoinen, and started training. It has been one week since you've started your deployment on regular missions. It has been a few days since your first successful troll hunt. And today, you are serving your first warrant.

The situation with Stormwatch is that a couple months ago, a prototype pneumatic suit and its fuel was stolen as it arrived in Helsinki, and an entire squad sent to apprehend a suspect was singlehandedly destroyed by a ferocious two-headed jotunn known as Lorppo, “Chatterbox.” The Stormwatch has since been trying to recover their numbers and prepare to fight that giant, but in the meantime, one of your superiors, L3 Manhunter Sigrun Eugen, launched an investigation into if these bandits have tried replicating the pneumatic system for their own purposes. She found that a number of purchases across multiple machine shops can together be used to create the machinery required to start producing their own parts. The parts acquired under bogus identities over the past few months would not have made complete lathes and mills.

And that leads you here, to a hospital uptown. A number of legal acquisitions filed for “repairs and replacements” were made by this hospital, the parts being the final pieces of the puzzle. It's not a busy hospital, taking in mostly patients from surrounding villages that don't have sufficient tools in their own medical centers. There would be plenty of rooms for such a machine to be in storage, or gods forbid use, while an opportunity arises for the crooks to steal it away to the Undercity. While not within the stormdrain itself, it does concern the stolen Stormwatch property, giving your group rights to investigate.

With you are three other agents; L3 Trollslayer Lalli Kiikoinen, L3 Manhunter Sigrun Eugen, and L1 Manhunter Saemus Fahy. In your earpiece is your Operator at Stormworks HQ, L4 Nonoka Sumika, who is watching all your bodycams and relevant security camera feeds, and providing orders and support.
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>Check out the barricaded patient room before heading up.
>>Check out the barricaded patient room before heading up
>>Check out the barricaded patient room before heading up.
>Check out the barricaded patient room before heading up.
Yeah it seems quite unanimous.

Welcome to the greatest city in the wide world, softsoul. You’ll fit right in - or find yourself flowing down the river.

You are a Mask(ed vigilante) hired on the the Red Market Whisper Trade to fulfill the needs for extrajudicial arbitration. Or put differently - sometimes, someone needs someone else to beat someone third up and you step in to provide the particulars.

Come on, softsoul.
Put on the Mask.
Wrap your hands.
Make a mark on the grand old city. So much is going wrong around here, someone will have to do something about it. It might just have to be you.
317 replies and 82 images omitted. Click here to view.
>Move 232
>3AP Move 211
>3AP Move 16
>It's leavin' time.

#The Circus
Guard 4/13
AP 6 Agility 3 RP 1
-Status: All well
-Status: Alive
Health 2 Psyche 2 Grit 3
Reaction 9 Focus 7/12

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>6AP Move 111 on my newfound mask legs and attach to my new host. The KO’d Slicerat will do.
>This Wax is good, I just need to Worm my way in…

Guard 0/10
AP 6 Agility 3 RP 1
-Status: Wormless Wax? Waxless Worm?
-Status: Uncertain existence
Health 2 Psyche 2 Grit 2
Reaction 10 Focus 0/12

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>>Use all AP to exfil

Guard 13
AP 6 Agility 3 RP 1
-Status: wounded 1
-Status: Alive
Health 2 Psyche 2 Grit 2
Reaction 10 Focus 5-5=0/12
Sense 12, Understand 12, Influence 10, Move 10

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Rolled 4, 6, 3, 5, 3, 6 = 27 (6d6)



>3 Agility: Recover 3 Guard
>4 AP: Bodyslam the Rat [5] of me off the ledge.
>2 AP: Snap Kick Rat [6, 2] of me, before they can get up.
Reaction Point: Block

Really, really hoping guard taker takes effect….

#Fourth Dusk

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Rolled 3, 5, 2 = 10 (3d6)

Just my luck, a bunch of junk. There are more coming, and outside sounds like more of a scuffle, this is very dangerous. But dang, there’s got to be something good in here, right?

>2 Agil: Recover Guard
>1 AP: Cover my mouth and nose, try to limit breathing.
>1 Agil, 2 AP: Move 611
>3 AP: look around deeper in the room for anything valuable.
>1 RP: Dodge

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The year is 20XX, tales of the legendary Chernobyl Exclusion Zone, simply known as The aone to Stalkers and those who reside inside the Zone... Stalkers are those who live and work in the zone (albeit illegally) and make their living primarily by collecting and selling Artif𝐚cts, which are strange and anomalous things still not understood by science which are formed by the Zone's strange environment and conditions and are worth a fortune. You have heard far and wide of tales of the Zone and of the wonders and dangers inside of it and have decided to leave your old life behind in favor of becoming a Stalker in hopes of adventure and striking it rich.
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This, we won't have a good chance of fleecing more experienced stalkers without getting experience. We should start hunting for artifacts, knowing how to do that will be very useful.
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You ask Sidorovich how much time you have for this mission
"You have a week to deliver this package to the Barkeep, I am giving you alot of time because the delivery is particularly urgent but it is important. But just know one thing Ratfuck, if this package doesn't get to the Barkeep in that time, or it conveniently "goes missing," I will shove my foot so far up your ass it will come out of your mouth and kick you in the nose. Nothing personal just business, remember that."

With those words in mind you set off for Rostok, but before that you stayed in the Rookie Village to see if there was anybody you could fleece for a little cash, you saw a group of very green rookies sitting around the campfire discussing something

"Listen man this guy told me he'd give me 8,000 Rubles if I can find him a Spring artifact! This is our chance to get some money, we'll split it 4 ways for 2,000 RU each."

You overhead their conservation thinking there could be a way to make some money from this...
Probably just best to watch what direction they're headed in and intercept them on the way back, then maybe sell the artifact at Rostok so no one connects us to their unfortunate demise.
I was thinking of how to exploit them and this is probably the best way, let them get it for us, watch how they do it so we learn what not to do, and rob the survivors with our ak-74u before hoofing it out to Rostok

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It is the year 404 AC and Westeros lies a broken land, ravaged by war, sickness and ambition for the vacant Iron throne, from the ancient Wall in the north to the evergreen Rhoynar of Dorne, all lay claim to the Iron throne or those older kingships of the age of Kings. It is a time of chaos as the continent faces an uncertain future as the only authority recognised by all is the sword, in such a times a man can be anything he wishes, lowborn or high, rich and poor, he is only limited by the ebb and flow of fate and the reach and grasp of his ambitions.

But he makes what he does of it and only the gods know where he ends....
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>The hike was madness, you would be sobbing in tears barely past the beach at best and with severe injury at worst, glory and songs were not worth that! You could not see the end of the beach but with any luck the shore and rocks would be traversable and perhaps with time you could make it to the port or at least some place more comfortable than this.

Absolutely fuck the hike, we do not need to deal with the forest and it's bullshit right now.


Dark like the Abyss of the Ocean.

Quick aside: I assume that each of the three Stranger Shades has some alignment with different types of Magic. Like, Ice probably has something to do with necromancy, Fire is likely attached to self-buffs and "combat magic", and Shadow is curses and charms.
Yes, no, maybe?
>The pain was too much, rest and recovery were what you needed not more exertion, perhaps when the sun rose you would have an easier time making it back to the castle but there was no use in rushing [Cynic]
>The pain was too much, rest and recovery were what you needed not more exertion, perhaps when the sun rose you would have an easier time making it back to the castle but there was no use in rushing [Cynic]


>The hike was madness, you would be sobbing in tears barely past the beach at best and with severe injury at worst, glory and songs were not worth that! You could not see the end of the beach but with any luck the shore and rocks would be traversable and perhaps with time you could make it to the port or at least some place more comfortable than this. [Cynic]

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This is a test. A challenge issued by the remains of an elder hunter's bones, peeking through the forest's grass and loam. A trial given to the mistborn hunter from the behorned veteran of countless celestial chases and pursuits, issued by the last lingering testament and breath of the progenitor of all Aeldari kind. In front of you stands a shade of dead Kurnous, one rack of his majestic antlers snapped off from your last clash with the shadow spun from a dying great spirit's last hopes as he vanished and was snuffed out in the maw of the lilac scaled serpent of fleeting satisfactions and brief delights. A bruise mars his magnificent chest, muscles chiseled as if worked from stone, wrapped with tattoos inked with green pigment indicitive of his status as guardian and groom to nature and plenty itself, as embodied by the mother of the Aeldari, caged Isha.

In his callused hands, he holds two spears, one summoned from the woods spun from the dreams of the spirits of Ulthwe's infinity circuit, and one taken from your own memories and hands, as alike in craftmanship as they are in purpose. And presently both are flying your way, the last in a sequence of relentless thrusts and stabs, as the elder hunter or his memory at least shifts his stance and the grip with which he holds his twin spears, to change their range and the manner of which he stabs at your heart. One approach, he is holding two daggers, the next he is leaning forward extending both of his arms as far as they will go and forcing you to dance swiftly backwards, shifting one foot behind the other as he never allows any distance you make between him and yourself to remain. Relentless but not tireless. His impact to the ground and your dirty trick that allowed you to lift him from the ground and throw him over you back to begin with, have marginally slowed his reactions and hindered the assault that before even you, born blessed and strong even before you wrought your body and further improved it through proper diet and exercise, struggled to keep up with.

Too the crowd of watching seers, prying novices and dreaming dead, it might seem as if you were on the backfoot and at a disadvantage. But while the exertion of fighting the last breath of a great man had wetted your temple with sweat and made your lungs burn to keep your blood pumping and muscles contracting as swiftly as you required to keep pace with the shadow of distant past, you had already decided on your next move.

Every dodge, sidestep and lunge away from his spear, every time you blocked, brushed them away with the back of your hands or deflected and altered their trajectory with a trust of your palm, was purposeful. Every move you took was made to reposition yourself so you could reach down, dodging the latest heart seeking blow by crouching as you knelt down to scoop up a piece of discarded bone.
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I've been thinking anons, if we are presented with the option I propose we try to convince 'Last Breath of Kurnous' to remain to guide his children because what they need right now is hope and their father. IF we win this and are at a point of control tell him this and using what we learned from the old one stuff, our own experience when we created the Blade of Love we make use of our location; sculpt this Last Breath into a Crown or something so he can guide, advise and do whatever needs be then offer it to Eldrad.....or really blow minds and give it to Florant our Disciple Ranger~

I think it will work because we have experience, we have a tested example, we might have a willing person actually assisting us, local resources and belief. Phoenix Lords keep coming back because soul gem and armour trickery...im sure we can pull this off. Also the idea of Stag Kings being sacrificial and coming back over and over is a mythological note.
I wholeheartedly disagree. The Final Breath of Kurnous is best course of action is to died and pass the torch to a successor like Lieren.
>Flick the spear head like a dart, catching it with wires of Qi, and using it like a rope dart. The shade of Kurnous was confused by your Shangralan sensibilities, so use a weapon you are certain he and his kind have never seen in action before, whirling and spinning the dart defensively, before you can close in and launch it into his neck
>Flick the spear head like a dart, catching it with wires of Qi, and using it like a rope dart. The shade of Kurnous was confused by your Shangralan sensibilities, so use a weapon you are certain he and his kind have never seen in action before, whirling and spinning the dart defensively, before you can close in and launch it into his neck
catch this yah
Well for now we have to defeat him in this trial/test. Is clear he wants a talk later.

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