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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 beat drops and shakes you to your senses... somewhat. You are sitting on a bar stool in a dimly lit club. You feel elated, hazy. Without much of an emotion, you realize that you have lost your mates. Fuck those jerks, you can have fun without them, right? There is, however, a stunning blonde in a super tight disco dress sitting close to you, lazily twirling her cocktail with the straw with a sort of dazed expression. The beat travels through your body, tingling your balls, beckoning you to the dancefloor. On the other hand, you could just go for another drink. What do?

> Hit the dancefloor
> Try to locate your mates
> Chat up the lady (how?)
> Have another drink (specify)

Drunk level: 65%
- slightly reduced fine motor skills
- loss of orientation
- trouble with coherent speech
- reduced impulse control
- self-perception issues (you feel much stronger, cooler and more suave than you actually are)


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> Resist. But how?
First of all say that it isn't your song.
Kindly say that you chose this group because of the redhead. If she doesn't understand just point to her and give a shrug.
STR-Check to resist the hambeasts iron clutch!

Fucking land whale

If the girls blow us off, message the boys in the group chat to see where they are
Rolled 8 (1d20)


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It is the 31th century. The Earth has long since whithered away from pollution, climate change, overpopulation, and sea-level rise. Many in the past said that humanity would die but the Earth would carry on. They were wrong. With the discovery of terraforming, generational colony run ships were shuttled out into the vast reaches of interstellar space.

A new space age style renaissance gripped humanity as many inhabitable planetoids within habitable star-zones developed, allowing unpredented growth. Soon FTL drive travel became capable after the discovery of Bluespace technology, ushering humanities cemented existence. With this in mind though, the Void-Wars began.

The Void-Wars were a series of collective space wars by the newly minted Trans-stellar nations formed across the Galaxy. No one remembers the particular motivations or purpose for the Void-Wars, but it absolutely devastated all of humanity to point of evoking the Schism.

Despite FTL capable travel with Bluespace, extremely long distant Interstellar travel needed the further assistance of Wormhole-Gates. During the centuries long Void-Wars, thousands of Wormhole-Gates were destroyed separating entire quadrats of humanity from eachother. This event is called the Great Schism. Some systems fell
to anarchy, some remained the same as usual, while others used the opportunity to form their own Galactic Empires. The largest and most influential of these entities were the Megacorporations who produced, supplied, and grew these new entities post-Schism.

Out of all of them, one Megacorp raised the highest- Nanotrasen. It became the most influential after discovering a gas planetoid completely composed of one material deemed Plasma. Its superheated composition allowed it to be the new premier power-source replacement away from the previous conventional means of electrofusion. Within a small amount of time, Nanotrasen had become to most influential corporation in the galaxy.

Humanity isn't alone however. Many different sapient species, some even more older than humanity itself and more advanced, stake long claims of the galaxy that go generations back. The volatile infighting and sudden rapid explosion of humans across the Milky Way Galaxy has triggered attention from many others.
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ss13 ?
>Go into your backpack and get a nutrient bar out and eat that. You missed lunch so you have to deign for this bland trash
>Go into your backpack and get a nutrient bar out and eat that. You missed lunch so you have to deign for this bland trash

You crouch and sign while digging into your backpack. You somewhat regret missing lunch, but you feel it was worth it to figure out the extent of your new capabilities. Still you were pretty hungry. The bar as you knew it would be was disgusting. You wondered how your father could even eat these things- they were comment issue for the Zalmar Union Police Department to have when doing investigations in the plains outside for the city. It essentially was a bar of cheese. It was milky and watery. Ugh. "Why the hell are you eating this stuff?" Hirudegarn asks just as disgusted as you. "You know I can taste what you taste, right?" You mentally chuckle. "First them I know of this at all. But sorry though, if you can taste what I can taste, you know I'm hungry." You'd hear him grumble a bit while doing a low chuckle simultaneously.

Finally the digital bell had rung, signaling the end of lunch. By then most of your classmates like you were waiting outside the Galactic History class waiting for your teacher to arrive. Minutes passed. Then more... Where the heck is your teacher? Finally you all see him slaunter down the hall. Instantly you could tell.. he was off somehow. Well only for you that is, your other classmates didn't have the distinct senses you have... First thing you know was that you couldn't read his mind, whatsoever. It was blocked somehow. His overall "aura?" you suppose? Was very weird.. it felt bio-based, it felt.. wrong... His face was just as handsome and chiseled as your own, but he had the bonus of being older. You couldn't sense anything spiritual about him whatsoever like what you could sense for your friends Wally and Jorge... you really didn't know what he could be..


He'd shuffle in his pocket and take out his keys, motioning the keyring with one hand until he presumably got the key for the classroom and opened the door. With him holding the door open, one by one everyone was going into class. When you passed by him you got some very big alarm bells about him. There was one good thing though, you could notice him, but he didn't particular notice you by any stretch at all.

"Find an empty table and a seat everyone. We have somethings to touch on for the first day of school as you know." The teacher would say. You take a seat in the middle like was your usual interest where you could speak with a wide range of people. While discussions where going on among the students, you paid deft attention to your teacher. The vid-board that he had turned on had his name displayed: Mr Rickson. You took note of that but after learning his name you continued speaking with your classmates.

Finally it came time where he did the common orientation type of discussion to lay down the school rules & answer questions. Everything was normal until he suddenly called you out for whatever reason. "-Mr Roxas? Tell me, in what year did the Zalmari colonists had to fight a tribal excursion of 2,000 tribesmen that were hellbent of destroying the nascent colony?" He would ask you out of nowhere. You would look around and the students were equally confused as he wasn't asking history questions before, why now?

>Attempt to answer the question. This was apart of basic Zalmar history.. but tribal raids when Zalmar was developing was very common in the beginning of the city-state

>Pardon? Why the question out of nowhere sir

>Attempt to read his mind to see what his endgame is

>Make a witty joke

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You are Johann Fol , a human student who had recently lost his foster dad and was forced to transfer to Garsis academy in the elven city state of Cairth under the protection of a new guardian: Miss Yuni in Gladefall Dorm, Tenfaro Street.

Under some strange circumstances, you happened upon a mysterious parallel world known as the Moonworld filled with strange creatures known as shadows thriving in a hellish post-apocalyptic landscape. It is up to you to purge lust out of Cairth as part of your agreement with a malicious entity , Ruin in Form .

You found a horrible entity within your body using you as a 'fleshly' window to peer through the world. This Shapeless Baroness offered you a tempting bargain to break your celestial bond with Ruin in Form but you refused.

Back in the real world, you succeeded in your first 'job' for the White Stag. In reality, it was just a test for future jobs.

Join our discord:

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The google definition for sanguinary is “involving or causing much bloodshed“, and seeing as most stories we’ve heard about pixies are about how their wings have caused a lot of death, I thought they fit the bill.
Honestly, I think we should discard the humana, as the witches are old and we are young to the continent.
>Sharp: centaur blade
>Sanguinary: Arachni fang (remember, they eat only Blood)
>Neutralizing: Elven moondust gland
>Limpid (transparent) : Are pixie wings transparent?
>Quaint: (attractive in an old fashioned way) dryad horns. They grow with age, larger un old dryads. Look at Ms Stag
>Lustrous(shining) Pixie wings again? Orcs hace pathchy, not shiny skin.

Does the name indicate the race? If we dont find any other clue, I vote we leave It for another day and ask a teacher about it or look in the library
Now that I think of It, as someone else said, certain orc skins could count as lustrous.
So final vote, if the pixie wings turn up transparent
>Grab some cloth that is not covering a corpse and fashion for yourself and Maq if she want to participate aprons and something to cover our nose and mouth. No way we are getting pixie dust in there. We will fil the cauldron with water and clean our hands when we are done cutting. Fill it up with clean water when we are ready to cook.
Let´s keep basic higyene.
>Maq, you want to help me with this or you would rather stay outside? No judgement if you want to sit this one out, it´s gonna be gory.

Ingredient list:
>Sanguinary (Arachni fang)
Used to drain prey of blood. Maybe it is referring to the bloodsac (stomach?), but I think this fits better within the sanguinary cathegory. The fang causes bloodhsed, the bloodsac stores blood.
>Quaint (Old Dryad skin/bark).
Will need Maq or QM clarification. Dryad skin turns to bark when the dryad is significantly older, but it seems horns grow too with age. For the skin example, check for example our biology teacher in thread one. For the horns, Ms Stag photograph on thread 4. I´m betting on skin though. Seems like you have to be WAY WAY old in order to get that beautiful bark coverage. And quaint is all about looking good in an old-fashioned way.
>Limpid (pixie wings)
If they are transparent, they should do the job.
>Sharp (Centaur Tail-balde)
>Neutralizing (Elf Moondust gland)

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Those are me btw.

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You are a winged human in a remote tower. You've been trying to escape for a month now. They drug your food and keep watch on you. Then, a tiny letter arrives in a capsule hidden in your food. It says: "Do not worry. We are coming soon to help." You still don't know the reason for your capture, but now you have hope.

The next day, a small group of them arrive at the tower. They look like humans, but they're much bigger than any normal man or woman. Their skin is pale as snow and their eyes glow with unnatural light. One of them speaks first: "We are called the Children of Light and Darkness. We came here to free you from your chains.
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>1) Ask why you can't take the weapons for your party
Hi dude
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Thank you player, you give me life!

You advance on him menacingly, and say "Wait, why can't we take the weapons, Ebon? I've spent nine months of my life trapped here, you owe me something!" He swallows and takes a step backwards and moves his hands like he doesn't know what to do with them. Ebon seems to be reconsidering. "Alright.... I'll.... bring you something else."
"The weapons. You'll bring the weapons." Ebon leaves and comes back and says: "Fine, you can have the weapons!" He is ungrateful.

A few minutes later, the Children come back with a large chest. They open it and begin looking through the piles of weapons. You can see there's a lot more than you've seen so far. Suddenly, they put their hands on something and let out a cry of surprise.

One turns to you and asks "What is this? It looks quite valuable."
You lean in to get a closer look. It's a simple golden ring, banded with silver. You don't know much about jewelry, but you know it's something that women would wear. One of the Children of Light approaches you with it.
"This ring will bring you luck." It slips it onto your finger. It's a little loose on you, but it will do. "Thank you for the gift," you say graciously.
"We have to go now!" one of them exclaims. "The sun will fall in three days! We have to make haste and find the last seal or the world will perish in eternity!

1)Make haste
2)Finish examining the weapons first
3)Write in
>Make haste
You make haste out of the tower, making sure your team is geared up with the weapons. You kiss the ring of luck on your finger just in case and send up a prayer. Maybe your God will smile on your adventures and give you more than three days before everything goes up in flames.
It's time to get back on the road. You set off in the direction you think the caravan should be coming from.

You walk through the forest for a while, until your legs start to hurt. You sit down on a rock and rest, the golden ring still on your finger.

Suddenly, you hear a cry of alarm and the sound of fighting. You grab your sword and run towards the source of the noise.

Now what?

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You are Charlotte Fawkins, noted heiress, heroine, adventuress, and detective, cruelly trapped underwater (in the sticks!) after the completion of your quest to find your long-lost family heirloom. Tragically, nobody here l̶i̶k̶e̶s̶ ̶y̶o̶u appreciates your talents, even Richard— the snake who lives in your head. Right now, you are dealing with your sleep-deprived frenemy Madrigal, who believes Richard is still inhabiting your body.

Could you use this? Yes. Should you use this?

«Don't you dare.»

…Probably not. You clear your throat. "Okay, uh, I'm not… I'm me again. I'm back."

Madrigal furrows her eyebrows.

"I'm Charlotte."

"Oh." She looks you up and down. "I guess that's why you look like shit."

"And you look like death warmed over. So." You fling your hands up. "I don't know what to tell you. You know where to find fresh corpses?"

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Heads up, since I didn't mention this before: you'll be giving Madrigal a rough outline of the spelunking club to provide context for the skin/immortality thing. You won't mention the vice presidency.

Kek, fair enough-- though I was under the impression you wanted to avoid a random shanking. (I wouldn't consider that "ethically sourced.") You can accomplish that easily enough without Madrigal, though, if that's the route you choose to go with.

"Wtf I don't want to be a baby" was one of the many reasons, yes.
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>Buncha stuff

You don't give a damn if she's sick, you're not letting her talk to you like that. "The deal is— aren't you, like, 40? Can't you act like an adult and ask him? You're dying, it's not like you have anything to—"

"I'm 30."

"That's the same age."

"No it's— and I'm not- I'm not fucking dying." She grinds her fist into her thigh. "I- I'm fine. I'll be fine. Fuck you."

"Denial," you note. "First stage of grief."

"Fuck you. Your fucking not-dad told me I wasn't dying, and he's the… he knows shit. You don't know shit."

You cross your arms. "I know… stuff."

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You smirk. "Well, you didn't hire me to answer that. I— now, just stick with me, okay? There's four kinds of reality…"

Madrigal's face droops more the longer you attempt to explain Metaphysics 101. Several times, she stares completely off into space, and you have to get up and wave your hand in front of her face for her to refocus. She's holding her head by the time you finish. "You sound just like him."

This is possibly the gravest insult you've ever received. You curl your lip. "No I don't."

"You do. Fucking… nonsense gullshit. I don't want to know this."

"Well, blame Ellery, then! He's the one wrapped up in all this! He's in a stupid club for it—"

She's green around the edges. "Just to reiterate, people— actual human people— could be in my brain. And I wouldn't know?"

«She doesn't have a manse. So no.»
«And it wouldn't be <in> her brain, technically, it's sort of bolted on—»

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Madrigal buries her face in her hands. You interlace your fingers nervously. "I think it was a compliment?"

"…That's… oh, god."

You scratch your neck with your interlaced fingers. "Does that sound like something he's said before?"

"…Urgh." She raises her head. "It's... I don't know. He's always had an ego. And he— I mean, being followed around by yourself all the time— I never knew him. Above. But it must've fucked with him. But even then… I don't think…"

"He never said it aloud?"

"I mean, yes. If he ever thought that, he never said it. I mean, I'd tell him to fuck right off, right? That's insane. That's… I mean, that's how you wander off in the middle of the night, thinking like that." She rubs her nose. "I'm not sure he thought that, though, he never indicated… it must be recent. He's developed mental illness. Fuck me."

He may have developed mental illness because of you, you fail to mention, but you're not sure it matters— there's no way that came out of nowhere. Maybe he wasn't thinking it consciously, but he was thinking it. "…At least it's kind of romantic?"

"Oh, yeah. We're trapped together in a fucking… hell world stage play. Romantic." She kicks at the ground. "You'd think if I were the only real one he'd fucking listen to me, but no-o."

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> Cool. Can we have the body afterwards? Hooefully it doesn't disappear like the othersr this time.

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You are A1001. You have been studying management of the Vault since you were very young, deciding that it would be the best way to help the highest number of people achieve the greatest amount of efficiency. What you were not expecting was that your predecessor, N2480, would pass before teaching you the practical end of the matter. Thusly, you have been thrust into a position you were not prepared for.

This is most inconvenient.

You find solace in reading about the past. Many generations ago, the people of the world somehow angered beings beyond their power. These entities - since called "fey", beings of great elemental power, destroyed the world, remaking it into a much more dangerous place. Magic, the greatest power of the old peoples, began to mutate them and turn them into beasts. Some of the old peoples ran underground, into great bunkers they had built for other catastrophes.

You live in one such Bunker. It is of at least thirty floors. Each floor can support a maximal population of a couple thousand individuals. They are named by floor (A - Z) and then by number. The number can be further segmented for clarity. Your own name indicates that you are the first son of the tenth family group in the first floor. Each floor has different focuses in terms of profession. The first floor is generally concerned with administration of the other floors. The second is the enforcement of that authority. The third is maintenance of the machines and devices of each floor. And so on, all the way down to Z.

The job of General Administrator is one that conveys authority of the other Admins. It's your task to ensure that the Vault remains efficient, such that it can carry the population into the future. Inefficiencies lead to loss of resources needed to feed the population, as well as keep the place livable.

Thankfully, the other Admins can advise you. But of course, even in this current age of enlightened efficiency, they will seek their own benefits to the detriment of other floors. As an example, perhaps the D floor, which concerns itself with hydroponics, food production, and distribution, would seek resources also needed by the C floor, maintenance. And of course there are other inefficiencies, such as arts and religion and the like - relics of the past that we no longer need, but can creep in.

You are of the tenth generation to survive without contact from the outside.

You are the hope that there will be an eleventh.

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You have a few options available to you on your first day. You can request reports. Those who have nothing outstanding to report will not respond. It is assumed a lack of response from a floor to a RR is, in itself, a response: 'business as usual'.
You can request an audience with the floor admin of a given floor. This must be responded to, but it is inefficient to request this without a purpose in mind, especially one that can be acted upon. While the Admins serve you, they also advise you and have power over their floors. To needlessly anger them is unwise.
You can redirect resources from one floor to another. Resources can mean any number of things - materials, device parts, work hours, what have you. This has been simplified to assist with efficiency. OBERON, your onboard AI, will ensure that the resources distributed are relevant.
You may discuss matters with OBERON, your personal AI. He can answer most of your questions without you needing to summon an Admin.

Finally, you can travel to the Floors themselves, in order to run an Inspection. This is seen as an intrusion and something of a slight, if done without cause.

You currently have no pressing matters, or appointments.

What would you like to do?

>Request Reports.
>Request Audience with...
>Redirect Resources from... to...
>Investigate Floor

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>Request Reports.
Request Reports, and notify all other Admins of the change in management if they're not yet aware.
>Request Reports.
Obvious first step
>Speak with OBERON (Ask a question)
Ask for an overall status report and resource tally
>Request Reports.

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You are Raishō Naori, former mercenary with Akatsuki, now soon to be the commander of the rapid response company of the first Allied Shinobi Forces. But that’s a matter for the future… right now there are at least a dozen things you could be doing to prepare for that day.

First, you realize, it’s a simple matter to move your raikō kenka seals from your palms to the backs of your hands… instead of throwing origami shuriken, you’ve reached the point of skill with Konan-sensei’s “shikigami no mai” that you can aim and ‘throw’ through chakra control alone. Second, it’s also fairly simple to use your clan’s hiden, the kongō fūsa, using just two fingers. Since your thumbs and your last two fingers are what matters for holding a sword, it lets you use the technique with Umekiri-maru in your right hand and the Rai Tenryushi in your left.

In practice, you quickly find that flowing chakra through both blades and crossing them to mimic the technique-specific seal for the shadow clone technique will allow you to use it with your hands full. That means there’s nothing holding you back from using it that way.

More difficult to solve is rasengan, which if you’re talking about the basic form is impossible to use without a free hand. You suppose you know the way it’ll look at least: like the samurai chakra flow technique, but with the shape manipulation of rasengan applied to it around your sword. The result should be like a rasengan with a razor-edge on it, brutally effective in any situation where you don’t need to tie an elemental release to it. It’s just not something you’ll be able to do without practice.

“So you think this is gonna work?” Fū muses cheerfully.

“I do,” you nod curtly. “But how well depends on how things play out.”

“So I’ll be in the medical company,” Karin adds. “Fū, I think you’ll be with me as a guard?”

“That’s right!” Fū nods emphatically. “It’s super important!”

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>>I’ll be out training. The tags can mostly get where they need to go through the Kages.
>>I think I’d like to know who will be in my unit NOW rather than later, so I can plan.
>I’ll be out training. The tags can mostly get where they need to go through the Kages.
>I think I’d like to know who will be in my unit NOW rather than later, so I can plan.

Razor sharp Rasengan is cool and all but the priority is definitely the team right now.
>>I’ll be out training. The tags can mostly get where they need to go through the Kages.

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You are Noel Tiberius di Hazaran, and for the first time in what feels like a long time, you’re actually in a rather difficult spot.

You’ve until just recently been on your way to reach a port from which you hope to arrange an investigation of Lavinia. The Organization’s stronghold is open to trade and maintains a small civilian population, however none of your number are sure what defenses might be waiting for you there were you to stage a raid of your own in the future.

Unfortunately that’s on hold for the moment, since you took a serious injury fighting against an awakened being you and your team stumbled across along the way, which was a discovery that you decided couldn’t be ignored even at the risk of compromising your secrecy. The wounds themselves aren’t much of a problem, more of an annoyance than anything else. But this particular awakened being, whose name you never managed to get in your brief exchange, produced a venom from her skin that interferes with a warrior’s ability to heal herself.

“We need to relocate,” you insist. “I was dripping blood the whole way here.”

“Nessa!” Justina orders. “We’ll go.”

“Right!” Vanessa agrees, heading off with Justina to alert the caravan drivers of the need to get going.

“Damn,” you curse. “What a nasty little ability.”

[CAN you heal it?] Serana asks you silently, repeating Nessa’s question now that she’s been given something else to focus on. [They don’t seem too serious on their own at least.]

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>i want to stay here a while, but ...
>We should keep moving. Help me up.
>>Give me an update on the situation.
>We should keep moving. Help me up.
>Give me an update on the situation.
In with this. Would love to stay, should *probably* stay, but we need to move.

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Welcome to the Sixth World: the world of Shadowrun!

The current year is 2080, 5 years after the end of the Great Dragon Civil War and the start of a new decade. In this setting, the more things change, the more they stay the same. Corporations be nations, America has gotten tired of winning, the ever growing wilderness filled with magically active creatures will fucking eat you alive, Red Skins are no longer just a defunct football team, West Coast America is a shithole run by subversive Elves, corporate espionage is everywhere, the oh so noble savages have nearly caused a magical apocolocaust, cybereyes are no longer the hippest shit, moderately high up gang members have connections that make government officials look like a bunch of pencil pushers, Japanese culture has as well as still is invading the West, and magical ancient scaly/feathery beings are the most powerful in the world.

Allow me to give some sound and quite possibly familiar advice before I throw you into the shadows:

>Geek the fucking mage
>Watch your back
>Shoot straight
>Conserve ammo
>And Never
>Cut a Deal With a Dragon
You're 99.99% already working for them if they've even offered one anyway.

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Whoops, left the same choice in twice.
Already late where I am so I'll close voting and update when I can if there are any votes when I wake up.

Any thoughts or questions while I'm still lucid?
so the word filter is randomized, how s o y boyish
Stick finger inbetween...
I don't know if my mind should jump to something lewd when 'stick' and 'inbetween' come so close together.

anon, you're not being lewd (possibly again) are you?
my first post in the thread
If i wanted it lewd i coulda said stick finger inbetween an album cover.

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In a world where vampiric lords have taken over humanity after the fall of their grand city, how will you bring yourself to power?

VAMPIRE. Monstruous predator, night stalker, bloodsucking leech. There are many names for those bound by the curse of the Eldest, the one named Caine. As the First City fell, you were one of the many underlings who scattered and scurried under the guise of a human, who still lived in the age of iron.

Now the time comes for you to surge once more. For too long you have fed on the blood of animals and random vagrants. Tell me, who are you, and what first steps have you taken?


Why were you turned?
>I was a mighty warrior, skilled with weapons and of strong body. [Physical]
>I was a charismatic, beautiful person with a silver tongue. [Social]
>I was a philosopher, one of great intelligence and knowledge. [Mental]

What first steps have you taken? (Initial Discipline - your vampiric power)

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>Celerity. Increases your speed and agility.
>Doesn’t count my vote
>>Fortitude. Increases your resilience to damage.
>>Celerity. Increases your speed and agility.
Odd blend of VTM and VTR you got here, VM. I do prefer it to the retardation that is generations though.
Oh shit lol, I was supposed to slap down fortitude on there. Oh well, Celerity got 3 votes now so I'll just go with that. Getting it to level 1 should be relatively quick (get it?)

I've only ever played VTM and know nothing of VTR beyond the fact that blood potency is a thing. Since we're probably gonna be managing multiple vampires, I'd rather keep track of just blood potency instead of generation as it's a clear indicator of a Vamp's strength. Generation is more of a mixed bag as an early generation vampire may not be as strong as a later generation vampire because the latter is way older than the first.

Another snippet about Disciplines: I won't keep track of the powers from each individual level of a discipline, but instead limit the extent to which you can apply it. So level 1 Domination will work well against a few people, but if you want to control a crowd you'd better have level 2 or 3.

Anyway, I'll be back at Europe night time to continue with this game

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You are tribal, stone age man. Name is Huk, son of Puk. Raised strong by father, live in lush great land raised by great tribe.

But of tribe, which?

>Rockhead Tribe
>Whitesleet Tribe
>Blueberry Tribe
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Huk want big fat ass tyrannoaurus wife with big thighs.
Slim Raptor wife who runs fast
Huk wonders if the lizard people in the hollow earth are an option
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"Hah hah hah!" Puk laughs.

"Silly Huk, there no such thing lizard people in empty ground." He winks while smile unlike characteristic of himself.

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White Tower have manifested.

Soon enough, death and pestilence will follow.

It's up to you to prevent the calamity.

How do you proceed?
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Herculean effort, to make so many unique drawings (non-repeats) in a single quest!
Which is your favorite so far? I like Kid pouncing on the bird. It legit made me laugh like a retard for a few minutes
Christ, what is it about powerful supernatural entities being completely unfair: if we were assertive, she would consider it arrogance which is fair grounds to killing them, and if we were to step back that would be cowardice, which is somehow foolish for some reason. Tell me: Is being indecisive the result of poor judgement? Seems to me she's just tossing around statements with words she doesn't know the meaning of in order to feel superior.

"There is nothing more foolish than being a coward" I swear, for something so omniscient and powerful that sounds like something a twelvie on instagram would spout to seem deep and intelligent, but really it's not even objective nor does it really say anything above "Behaving in a way which I personally don't like is the sign of low intelligence. This is an objective, universal truth." It's just so fucking obnoxious, that's what i'm trying to say

Kind of sad, really, for a being that powerful to get her jollies pushing around what to her amounts to a single ant in a tank of nutrigel.
fortune favors the bold and the foolish alike.
And in a world were the best candidate for this trial is Kid we can assume either everyone is a moron
or this is a suicide mission used to get rid of imbeciles
>or this is a suicide mission used to get rid of imbeciles
That's surprisingly plausible, like the white tower just shows up so the local civilizations can get rid of their surplus idiots.

As last light shrinks below the horizon, a blue chill covers the whole forest. The striped sycamores appear like columns of sharp ice, stretching their twisted limbs to cut the clouded sky into a patchwork of greys and ragged reds.

"I'm not too heavy dearie?" whispers Granny in your ear. You've carried her on your back since this morning, against her objections, and at every hour some foolish sense of guilt compels her to check on your state. As if you'd let her down for that!

"Nay, Gran. You're all bones. I can hardly tell you apart from the shirt on my back." Granny chuckles and kisses your cheek, but you can tell her heart isn't it. The journey's been tough on old Granny, gone is her peach-pit hardness of will. The news of her son's death last month aged her a decade. You think she would have even remained at Calentown, to be devoured by the ghouls(for the dread Lich Gorgoth cares little for the flesh of the old and infirm), if you had not insisted she flee with everyone else. You are not her blood, but she has ever treated you like a nephew and you'd die before abandoning her to the enemy.

Ahead of you the two dozen or so survivors and a few guardsmen trudge on in clumps of three and five. Pots and pans clank against their heavy packs; hungry toddlers scream on their shoulders. Your own muscles burn, the soles of your feet feel skinned and wet like peeled onions, but there is no time for rest. Pelagrad is still three days away and the Lich's thrall cannot be far behind.

Soon the darkness falls, broken occasionally by cold moonlight shining over the rims of passing clouds. The trees thicken. Every spare branch seems thorned and set against your advance. You wrap Granny in a thick blanket to protect her, but your own arms and legs are scratched mercilessly by the brush.

A few in the group are talking about stopping for the night, when a long low horn blows in the south. Everyone freezes, even the toddlers stop crying for a moment. Then, "Run! Fly!", and the whole host rushes forward like water from a broken dam. The guardsmen draw together in the rear, shields high, attempting to delay the ghoul's advance. Arrows fwip overhead, thocking against the trees, one landing so close as to draw blood from your shoulder. You run harder, bounding over thick gnarled roots, ducking low under branches. Behind you metal rings against metal, and ghouls screech as they are cut down.

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Del Immoldur lies to the north of Calentown, in the land known as Doleter. You ride on an old stone road snaking between the rocky hills which extends to great forest of Dol. At this time of year, just before the winter snow, the broad, pronged leaves have started to fall from the boughs. They swirl slowly to the earth in dark grey and silver, a unique color, for which, in other places, they call this wood, 'Moonweald' and 'Silvia's Grove'.

When night settles and the slats of moonlight fall upon the silver leaves, the men, maybe inspired by the beauty, begin to sing softly in the language of the old kings. Even Mudgehauser hums along to the tune, though his face remains as grave and pointed as ever.

Afterward, the silence becomes intolerable. At least on the hills, the horses could ride swiftly on the open road, and the wind whipped your hair--but here in the forest, the pace slows to a crawl and while the other men engage in whispered conversation, Mudgehauser seems to prefer unbroken silence.

>Respect Mudgehauser's preference for silence
>Request to continue your conversation with Lord Briton
>Ask Mudgehauser about [write-in]
>Request to continue your conversation with Lord Briton
He'll be our direct mentor right? Best to get to know him well.
>Request to continue your conversation with Lord Briton
>Respect Mudgehauser's preference for silence
> Hum a song that reminds you of home

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>Once upon a time, in a kingdom far away...

The battering at the locked door grows louder and more forceful, buckling more and more until it splinters and finally gives way. Through the dust and debris, a knight in shining armor emerges.

"Oh brave Sir knight!" cries the hopeful prisoner.

"I have come to your rescue, my Princess!" he proclaims boldly, taking off his helmet. A dashing fellow suitable of his post.

"And you, foul wretch!" he levels his gaze and points an accusatory finger at you, "Free the Princess, and your death shall be quick!"

With his sword and shield at the ready, he appears quite keen on carrying out his threat. As to be expected from one who rode tirelessly and braved dangers, assaulted your dire tower to free the princess you captured.

After having spent many centuries in seclusion to learn the secrets of immortality though, only to be refused in your seeking to reclaim the very throne you once sat, you're not about to just give up the princess. You captured her in order to be taken seriously, have your demands properly heard.

However you didn't expect repercussions like this... maybe you should have!

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The first man should be kept, he doesn’t demand much and is loyal.
The second man, I dont know, I’m not sure. He smarter than the rest and less beholden to us. Probably the most dangerous one.
The third man should be kept too, he’s a brute and the easiest to manipulate. Honeyed words and sweet kisses would be enough to keep him in line and fulfill our every order.
For what it's worth, the second appears to value you more than something short term and wants to take you with him, potentially an avenue to returning to civilization.

The other two you can tell, are treating you as an in-the-moment indulgence. Though, not to say you couldn't change their minds on that with effort.
Interesting. The second might have value than I thought. Not sure what I would do now other than trying to get one of our bodies out and seduce the fourth man. Make an excuse.
Well it's pretty late so we can pause here for now, and continue tomorrow, and give others a chance to catch up and give input. And you can determine what you might be interested in doing with some beguiled men.

Till then, thanks all for playing.
Take them all in for now and seduce the fourth man.

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