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File: OP art.png (1.39 MB, 1000x607)
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It’s strange that heights still make you uncomfortable.

You’re currently sitting on the third floor of the pool room of some college you’ve never heard of, peering out the window at the parking lot. Every couple of minutes, another group of teens departs in another crowded minivan, their races done for the weekend.

The event you’re waiting for is the freestyle, and you’ve decided to pass the time trying to overcome your fear of heights. You don’t like that it’s a “fear”, but the term is accurate.

There’s a slant to the window. When you lean forward, it almost feels like you’re falling. With a rush of vertigo and your heart pounding you push yourself backwards and stand straight again.

After the countless hours you’ve spent flying, you would think that any lingering discomfort looking down from a height makes you feel should be completely gone. It doesn’t make any sense for a 3-story drop to make you this nervous, while plunging to the ground from miles up has become almost routine.

There’s a feeling of almost indignation towards yourself for feeling this way, but that doesn’t make you feel any more comfortable, so instead you’ve been leaning forward, closer and closer to the glass, until you’re overcome by certainty that you’re going to tip over, smash through the window, and plummet to the concrete below. It’s nonsense; there’s no way you’d break the glass, but the idea forces you to catch yourself every time.

Maybe someone else would find it weird that you’re doing this instead of hanging out with your teammates or getting ready for your race, but you’re well past the point of caring what regular people think. You’d never be able to keep up with what you have to do if you were trying to have a normal life too.

The sound of yelling interrupts your thoughts. The freestyle is starting, and though it’s not time for your race yet, you still have to put aside more important thoughts and focus on the meet.

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>I got what I needed. Just focus on the Yeerk leadership.
>“I got what I needed. Just focus on the Yeerk leadership.”
It wouldn't be too hard to lock her up and starve the yeerk, but we can't actually do that at least until the yeerk leadership is in disarray and orders are all mixed up.

beats me, I've already floated the venom idea.
>Ask about why your mom would have wanted you to stay away from the Sharing if she was a controller. She seemed really insistent about that.
She probably has a deal with the yeerk to keep her daughter out of it in exchange for compliance
No update tonight

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The Milky Way galaxy, or at least the fraction of it clustered in vicinity of the ancient Relay network, was home to a wide variety of societies and civilisations, much more so if one counted the ones that the Reapers extinguished over the course of millenia. Although some similarities that could be drawn among them could be credited to influence of the very same genocidal machines setting up their cycles of extinction, the richness and diversity of life itself still shone through - from chemical composition and environmental preferences, through forms of expression and language down to systems of governance and cultural values.

Although some of the communities pushed boundaries of what Earth's scholars were willing to accept as sapient life there were patterns that tended to recur even in most alien arrangements that eventually ended up being recognized as a society - and one of such hallmarks were the ways in which the societies regulate mutual relationships between its members.

As it is, you find yourself right in the middle of one such event. You can almost feel the invisible bonds that materialize between you and other participants of the meeting who, in spirit of tradition, have gathered in the Gazebo to hammer out the finalized deal.

You did not quite expect the meeting would be held to this sort of transparency until it was mentioned in the exchange of extranet messages you've been going through on your way here. It appears the host have decided to conclude the dealings in the format of an open negotiation with presence of media, a model that - as Eve helpfully dug out of the historical archives - gained some notoriety during the second reform of African Union, around the time earmarked as beginning of Consolidation and credited by some by its success, all the while being criticized by some as too susceptible to political grandstanding.

Well, you were hardly the one to argue against it considering all human parties involved consented to it, Quarians took it in stride and Kara simply shrugged it off - as far as he was concerned, the only thing that truly mattered was the result.

And so you, Henri Ford, special consultant for the Citadel Institute of Xenoarchaeology, find yourself seated at the circular table that has been set up in the middle of the gazebo with quite an eclectic company seated around it. At your right hand sits Kara, who in turn sits opposite the bishop. At either side you see familiar faces alongside strangers. All illuminated, all observed by several camera drones hovering just outside the circle of light.
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Fortunately the question is an easy one to come up with a reassuring answer for.

"What you describe as an issue, mister Zmeyevitch, is actually another opportunity for regional development. Even in its initial construction phase the project will provide valuable insight in capacity of the new infrastructure to facilitate future growth spurts, with my client's initiative being hopefully but the first among many."

The clerk doesn't bat an eye, having probably heard more than enough comments that might with a touch of egocentrism be construed as backhanded challenges to work of institutions he's meant to represent. What may be a little bit more worrying is he might have smirked a bit, but you don't allow yourself to be deterred.

"What's more, once the venue is finished and open to public it will in itself form a landmark that will boost economic prospects of the city, attracting further investments and inviting new services. Any strain on short term development will be paid back many times over in longer term!"

You conclude on a high note, satisfied with your reasoning.

"It is as the... consultant says." Kang chimes in, respecting your choice to remain relatively anonymous in this affair, "I can offer assurances disruptions to other civil engineering projects in the region will be kept minimal, and indeed I am able to spare some of military's capacities from Kourou base to smooth things out."

This is a surprise to you, but a pleasant one. Between Quarian help, the derelict Reaper and this publicity play Kang must have surmised that no effort to support this enterprise would be wasted.

"We have naturally anticipated the task before us would be an ambitious one," Secretary Lumiere picks up. "and I have discussed the circumstances with your colleagues, mister Zmeyevitch. I reiterate our commitment, and I assure we already have a number of civilian volunteers pledging support, alongside assurances issued with our partnered charities."

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"That being said, I concede that in this case the risks can be considered secondary to the opportunities involved... however..."

This time the man looks you directly in the eye, or at least where he expects your eye would be were you not wearing your adventuring suit including the helmet.

"The same reasoning leads me to the second issue I needed to raise that needs to be resolved, and that is the issue of security. Although I am certain all parties involved have the best of intentions, the enterprise being discussed here is by its very nature a potential security hazard. I have with me c-sec reports from vicinity of the Armax arena which I believe is relevant and relatable data and the data undeniably illustrates that the violent arcade attracts violently minded individuals that inevitably allow their entertainment to spill outside the walls of the establishment. And since by your own admission the facility is expected to invite traffic of persons specifically interested in the violent entertainment it offers, I believe you took under consideration the implications for public safety? This issue is especially considering expected demographic composition of bulk of the fight participants at very least during early stages of the venue's operation."

Well, it seemed the clerk was determined to find something to harp on and part of you wondered if he was planning to segue with the security issue to begin with. It was probably one of the issues we mentioned from the start, though. Regardless, you now had to figure out how to best handle it...

>Argue with the man, accuse him of bigotry.
>Although he may have a point about the Krogan... you are still confident in Kara's rebels having sufficient discipline to keep their violence to the arena, especially if the opponents outside it would prove much less challenging... Shaman is here with you and might be able to back you up on this.
>Bring up participation of Church on the project and use its authority as guarantee of proper conduct... although that might not be too credible considering your earlier argument to refrain from exerting too much control over the project.
>Point out that Alliance is participating in the project; if anyone is capable of enforcing order and security, it's the military.
>other rebuttal (specify)
>>Although he may have a point about the Krogan... you are still confident in Kara's rebels having sufficient discipline to keep their violence to the arena, especially if the opponents outside it would prove much less challenging... Shaman is here with you and might be able to back you up on this.

you should stop while you still have players QM. its sad to see a quest without any players.
Remember you can always start a new quest
>Is that data general or in comparison to sporting events and things like that? Soccer causes riots, and it's not a violent sport.
There were more people before hiatus, but most people don't check around unless they have nothing to do.
>Is that data general or in comparison to sporting events and things like that? Soccer causes riots, and it's not a violent sport.

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Your head hurts and your vision is fuzzy. You sit up, blink a few times, and take stock of your surroundings.

You are in a jail cell. It seems the corrupt sheriff didn't appreciate your insulting him and has tossed you in the drunk tank. You would much rather be outside of this jail cell. What will you do?

>Look through the window
>Look through the cell door
>Search your bed
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*17 it was a minus one mistyped
roll to hide
though I kinda want to save drunky.

Once we get the hats I want to fill with poots and run away
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The haberdasher beams when you compliment his hat. Made it himself, he did. You feel more experienced in the art of buttering people up.
Tootin': 2.1 + 0.05 = 2.15

He's not sure where the bandits are, but they're surely holed up in the sheep ranch they took over a while back, where they store most of the loot they get from their raids. It's a bit far from town and will require a horse. You mark it on your mental map.

You purchase a necktie and, as the name suggests, tie it around your neck.
You now have $3.65.

You throw your lasso around the sheriff's hat and pull. You manage to snatch the feather and hatband from his beloved headgear, also revealing a carrot hidden within the brim. Unfortunately, you proceed to let out a whoop of glee, which the sheriff hears. He turns toward you, hate gleaming in his beady eyes.

The sheriff is approaching! You could run away, but if you stay in the town, he'll be in constant pursuit. You think you could take him in a fight, but your horse is suspicious of you and has a 1/3 chance to ignore any order you give it in battle.

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Run to the sheep ranch! And put the sheriff's hat parts on our own hat once we're out of sight.
We should think about disguising ourselves when we return to town.
We should too arm the bear trap, but make it in a sneaky way, and if the sheriff gets to close, BAM, surprise bear trap

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You are Blair d’Rusalka, student at the Garreg Mach Officer’s Academy and a member of the Black Eagles House. You were sent to the Academy by your Guardian, Count Rusalka, to undergo training and become a Knight in his service. You’ve settled into life at the Academy, making new friends, new rivals and taking part in various missions on behalf of the Church of Seiros. Your most recent mission found you defending a Priestess from soldiers of an opposing religious sect, with an unknown ulterior motive.

You’ve recently returned to the Academy just in time for the fifth month of the year to begin. Your eyes firmly set on soon becoming a Pegasus Knight and achieving the rank of Junior Cadet for your student house.

Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Fire+Emblem%2C+Three+Houses%2C+

Blair d'Rusalka
Class: Level 8 Fighter (70/100)
HP: 29, STR: 14, MAG: 10, DEX: 8, SPD:12, LCK: 8, DEF: 8, RES: 5, CHRM: 10
Equipped: Iron Lance, Javelin, Iron Sword, Vulnerary (x6), 550 gold
SKILLS: Fiery Blood (+4 Damage when HP is not at Max)

After four days of walking through the forest at a slower place thanks to your injured clerics, you finally arrive back at the gates of Garreg Mach. The first thing you notice upon your return is the heightened security. The Monastery was already on alert due to the influx of outsiders here for the Rite of Rebirth festival, but now the defenses seem to have been raised up a notch even from that. Archers train their bows on your group from the monastery’s towers, and a line of Armored Knights seek to block your path before you get any closer. Leopold bids your group to stop, and eventually, a lone soldier runs from the defensive line to where you are standing.

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this kind of stuff:
it's gross!
>C) Do nothing.
I was somewhat thinking to sell the iron sword but Blair might want to use it later, training for her Falcon Knight certs or to take advantage of Levin Swords. Which are also very expensive, so if Blair wants a Killer Lance as well then I think she'll have to start doing market jobs during her free time to supplement her allowance!
giving corinne a life outside of the purposes other people give her is best accomplished by just being friends with her. I think she's lonely and trying to reach out to Blair
>>C) Do nothing.
Can’t think of anything to buy right now. Also Corrine needs a good friend, I hope Blair’s bond gets higher with her
>no cow tits Blair
Poor girl
> it's gross!
How can one man be so gay?
C) Do nothing

I'm for the Killer Lance, myself.

Also as to that Corrine bit: "I can save her." Ahem.
>How can one man be so gay?
I use exclamation marks, what were you expecting? I literally have a boyfriend.
but I just also dislike the objectification applied to fairly young girls. it doesn't really serve any character purpose beyond a weird pedophilic audience gratification i.e. fanservice.
>a character growing bigger tits
Correction, how can one man be so retarded

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People have called you a lot of things in your life. They’ve called you a rat, a snake, a conmen, and a crook, and each and every time, it hurts just a little bit, though usually just because you lost a repeat customer. You don’t worry yourself about that, because while words will never hurt you, sticks and stones can break bones. You’ve broken bones before, that shit hurts, and they’ve got some serious sticks and stones nowadays. Hellfire missiles, Howitzers and the like that can blow your house away without even needing to ever know you existed.

Now don’t mix things up, words can get you far, they got you a job at MannCo, they got you a sweet sweet commission coming from the wallets of the most despicable people on the planet, warlords, words start wars, and less excitingly they end wars, words are incredibly important- to people who don’t know what their talking about. A guy like you who does know what he’s talking about, who knows that there ain’t nothing wrong with fib or two, can make some good use out of meaningless words]. Once you realize that simple fact, you can sell anything to anyone anywhere in the world. You could go on and on about how the law only means as much as a guy with a gun is willing to enforce it, but you’re getting ahead of yourself. You don’t mind people telling you things like, “You’re an asshole,” and “You’re fired,” because that’s all just business. What you do mind is losing money, and getting shot, and those spooks at MannCo not only had the gall to take seventy five percent of each sale, but simultaneously thought that instead of just letting you go, they thought that should ram a seven-six-two into your gut and destroy your dodge viper. You’re not a man to hold a grudge, but you are a man who recognizes opportunity. Through some luck you managed to place your grubby little hands on documents that told you And because bullets are a lot more meaningful than words, you’re currently betting on four shots something interesting. At the top of MannCo’s office building is The Briefcase. Yes. That briefcase. The one that two companies of morons tore each other apart over. The one that another two morons are still tearing each other apart over, and the one that two morons will pay a lot of money for. You’re The Salesman baby, and to make a good sale, you gotta have a good acquisition. You’re gonna steal that briefcase.

So that’s the reason why you’re being hunted. That’s the reason you’re currently being chased by a van driven by a robotic australian who has no qualms about ramming through a poor mother of two’s sedan, while an anonymous shooter strapped to the roof sends subsonic shots through the rear windshield, the first ruining an expensive car radio, the second putting a hole in a passenger seat probably made out of some giant African beast.
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>Head towards the docks. Plenty of tall moving machinery to make a dangerous environment, and you’re sure Valentini’s boys still gotta be in with the unions over there.
>The city library. Unsuspecting, full of a practical maze of bookshelves you could hide in. Bonus if you need to commit murder it’s not hard to burn the evidence down.
>Head towards the local mall, enough civilians around there to really blend in, and if that don’t work, use more gun, there are a good few gun shops down there.
>Screw it, just head straight home. You’ll probably lead them to your place of residence but that also means forcing them to tread on the house of Robert, your insane landlord.
>Write in.
>>Head towards the local mall, enough civilians around there to really blend in, and if that don’t work, use more gun, there are a good few gun shops down there.
>Head towards the docks. Plenty of tall moving machinery to make a dangerous environment, and you’re sure Valentini’s boys still gotta be in with the unions over there.
>Head towards the local mall
We need to get somewhere not easily accessible by helicopter, and if need be, somewhere at least moderately defensible.
Apologies guys, but I had an unexpectedly busy day, the next update will have to be delayed to tomorrow.

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You're in a prison cell. Shafts of dirty sun fall from a small opening high up on the back wall. A pair of rusted manacles bite into your wrists. Somewhere a rat squeaks and a waterdrip plops steadily onto a puddle. Your head feels like someone took a bite out of it and is still chewing on the brains. When you touch your left temple, your fingers come away with bits of dried blood. The bastards got you good.

Something stirs in the cell. Another prisoner, sitting against the wall. You catch a flash of white beard as his chin catches the light from the window. He's holding something to him: a child, a little girl, eight or nine years old, not much more, swaddled in a dirty hooded tunic. When the man adjusts his feet you hear the chain attached to his ankle clank against the stone floor. There's a rank smell. But it's not coming from them.

The old man wants to know your name, says his name is Rolf. His granddaughter, Carylon. Says they're traveling performers. He sings and tells old stories. She juggles knives.

>You're Anton Schiefelbein, a former knight-commander turned sellsword
>You're Snodgrass, a hulking barbarian exiled from a distant homeland
>You're Lester, a lowlife opportunist just trying to survive
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>>Travel all night to Heiden
>Check out the hunter's camp


Am I crazy or did this exact interaction happen like 2 month ago on this board
>Am I crazy or did this exact interaction happen like 2 month ago on this board

If it did, I wasn't involved in the first iteration.
>Am I crazy or did this exact interaction happen like 2 month ago on this board

If it did, I wasn't involved in the first iteration.

Hail, weary traveler. Welcome to Lordran, home to the Gods, Dragons and Giants. Well… whatever Gods and Dragons still remain in this deranged, derelict land. Gwyn above knows you can't get rid of the damn Giants… One way or another, you ended up in the Firelink Shrine-- don't worry, that's a good thing. You probably got cut down by one of those pesky Silver Knights on the border, and, unlinked to any Bonfire, your soul was sent here. Why is that a good thing? Well, this is the very heart of the land. Directly above us is Trevethin, known nowadays as the Undead Parish. Completely run over by hollows, that dreadful place. Don't pack a punch, but ya might still get swarmed. Even higher is Anor Londo. Yes, THAT Anor Londo.

Below us? The Catacombs, Blighttown and New Londo. A few fellas also mentioned that you can get to the Tomb of Giants, as well as Izalith from there! I wouldn't believe everything you hear 'round these parts, but I figured I'd put that on the table. My, aren't you curious! You're lucky I've been sitting in this spot for years now, and have heard enough tales to form a mental map of the landscape! To the South, you have the vast Darkroot Forest, which leads into the long-ruined land of Oolacile. Go East and you'll find yourself in Ur-Astora, a fairly sizable outpost named after, well, Astora, hahaha…! Various knights from Astora, Balder, Carim, Catarina and other Kingdoms have gathered to fight against the monsters of this land, and a few merchants tagged along. Good for pawning off whatever unique trinkets you may happen upon. That's all there is to see towards the East, the knights have already plundered all there was. North? You're not going North, friend, do you SEE those mountains? They can't be natural. They house the Undead Asylum and the Crystal Caves. West…? Nothing of worth save for a few small towns of sane Undead trying to live their unlife out.

Now, my name is Heddwyn, the local Crestfallen Warrior. May I have yours, lass?
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Rolled 97, 17, 35 = 149 (3d100)

Rolled 88, 81, 89 = 258 (3d100)

Now what?
QM choked since the mystery box didn't come out the way he wants it to be.
That'd be a sad way to go.

In Scrimshaw Mount, all graves are shallow. Even on the Promontory, where nature, not man had placed the soil, the ubiquitous basalt of the Mount was never more then three feet down, commonly less than two. And while the sextons that ran the five different graveyards that were actually located on Mount understood that getting graves to the traditional depth of eight feet was impractical, some of the sextons were more understanding than others. The sexton of the South Burying Ground, creatively titled the South Sexton, who you were working for, requires all of his graves to be a standard depth of two feet, four inches, with plumb corners. For the particular plot that you are digging today, the bedrock was at two feet, three inches at the head of the grave, and two feet, one inch at the foot of the grave. Chewing away at the basalt would be miserable enough, even without the midday sun beating down on you, and even without the heavy canvas of the Spotted Cloak and the weight of your mask that you must wear at all time, under pain of death.

But the misery you are mired in is born out of your worries, not your work. As of tonight, your father will be overdue, and you fear what may have befallen him. Four days ago, he returned from his nighttime prowling prematurely, and awoke you. At first, you had been alarmed, thinking that he was rousing you to flee. It had been eight years since you entered into the questionable safety of the Midden, but before that, your entire childhood had been spent in flight, staying one step ahead of the Inquisitors and their Cleansers. But father was smiling here, not skittish. In fact, you would go as far to say that he was giddy. Surprisingly, you could smell alcohol on his breath, which could only mean he had been meeting with a ‘professional friend’ at a public house, as he would only drink when propriety demanded it. He told you that he found something very, very valuable, and that he, along with his friends, were going to steal it. He spoke a bit more on it, as he outfitted himself, but you were still half-asleep, so you cannot recall these specifics. But you do remember what he said in passing.

“I will return, in three days’ time – four at the absolute most. But if I am not back in a week, then something has gone seriously wrong, and for your own safety, you must leave the Mount. I will come for you, when or if I can. Fare thee well, Chlotsuintha”.

Father had not called you by your real name in … you do not even know how many years. Hearing it said out loud like that, it was as if he cast one of his spells on you. You bolted awake – but he had already begun his descent. This was not the first time that he would be gone for a few days on a job like this, and even the part about ‘leave the city’ and ‘when or if I can’ was not an uncommon precaution from him. But actually saying your name, that marked this as something else entirely.
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If either of you are still here and brave enough, you may roll again. Do not worry that much, even if you fail this third roll, and he tries to call out for help, you still have a chance to fix this quietly, so long as you do not roll a 1 or a 2.
Rolled 83 (1d100)

ty 4 not being an unlucky bastard like me and >>4946563
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Those dial-things have figuratively and physically stopped you in your tracks – after moving over to the strongbox to investigate them, you have not moved, beyond, of course, rocking along with the ship. You know that you are not going to be able to open this box, and you know that you are going to have to either convince or trick the captain to do so. If you tricked him, by lighting the ship on fire, then there is a chance, admittedly a slim one, that you could pull off this heist completely unseen. But the fire – there is too much of a risk. To the crew as well as the captain (who you are well aware that you might have to kill regardless), but most importantly, yourself. For the fire trick to work, you would still have to be on the ship, to get to the strongbox when the captain opens it. There is a powder room somewhere aboard to supply the ship’s guns, and no doubt stocks of pitch and oils for illumination and maintenance. If either of those caught, your little trick could end up being the death of you. Which means –

You are going to have to get him to do it. This means, unless you are going to kill him, you are going to leave a witness. If there is a witness, then there is a chance that you get caught, and if you get caught … setting aside whatever the courts would rule, which can vary wildly, then you could be discovered as a Stranger, and mitigated. Which for a Witchlet such as yourself would be fatal. Can you leave a witness? Can you kill an innocent in cold blood? You do not know. Honestly, you do not know. But to get the money, he is going to have to be the one to open the box, which means … circles, you are thinking in circles. Focus! You need to scare him – and to that end, you should borrow a scarier weapon. You lurch over towards the weapon racks mounted on the wall, and in the gloom of the cabin, you examine the selection. There was one that caught you eye, a smallsword – you think it might be a bit longer than usual. The brass of the hilt was a bit dull, but beyond that, it seemed to be in flawless condition. You do not see a scabbard for it, which means that it was probably taken as a trophy.

With your better weapon selected, you fold and then pocket your chipped stiletto in your jerkin. Then you head over to the bed, it’s only occupant still softly snoring. The fifteen or so paces that it takes to get you to the bedside feel like the quickest you have ever taken in your life. You do not like this, you do not like any thing about this. But Sty the Leper is going to die in three days, if her father does not show up. If you do not want to die with her, then you must pay. Pay the price of being Chlotsuintha the Witchlet. Without you even realizing it, the borrowed smallsword is at his throat, and the captain begins to stir underneath it.
“You keep quiet. Everything will be fine if you keep your mouth shut.”

His eyes snap open and focus immediately on you. You can see him tense up and shift slightly under the sheets. There is confusion and fear in his eyes, as well as hint of anger.

“You are going to open the strongbox for me.”

The second you said ‘strongbox’, he noticeably tensed up a little bit more. Good – you were worried that he did not understand you. But when you order him out of the bed, he does not move. You repeat yourself, with just a little bit more volume. Still, he refuses to budge. You get the feeling that he is waiting for you to screw up, so he can try to overwhelm you. What do you do?

>Please choose ONE of the following:
>Try to pull him from the bed.
>Try to scare him using the smallsword.
>Try to scare him using Cold-Touch and your eyes.

>As I want to get at least one more update out tonight, voting will close at 7:15 pm EST. I will roll for a tiebreaker, if I need to.

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Last time out, the tomato reunion came to fruition, you learned about Gautier’s troubled past and discovered that Oliver is in jail yet again. It doesn’t seem like the ex-terrorist is in bigger trouble than the usual bureaucracy so you’ll wait until morning to lawfully get him out of his predicament. You’re staying inside the camper with Matilda and Wilma, all sleeping on the same mattress because of Wilma's wishes.

Your eyelids open slightly to let the sunlight enter, it’s a new day here in the past time, you never asked what date it is, so you have no idea what day it is. You guessed the year, and not much else, it feels like it’s winter or autumn. It’s just a nice cozy morning, but looking at a calendar wouldn’t be the worst thing ever.

You realize you’re in a peculiar position, you somehow ended up in the middle of this cuddling mess, both girls resting on you like you’re a body pillow. Wilma is resting on the left side of your chest, and Matilda resting her head between your shoulder and the pillow under. You’re immobilized by these two – good thing you don’t want to go to the bathroom… yet.

The plan is to take Oliver out of jail as soon as possible, so you’ll start with that…

What do you do?

>Sneak out of this situation and make breakfast for everyone.
>Wake Matilda up to talk for a bit. You need to wake one of them up for an escape route.
>Wake Wilma up to talk for a bit. You need to wake one of them up for an escape route.
>Write In.
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Cautiously approach box
Hey, some of it went to her butt as well.
Yeah, I don't know why you'd want to make this more complicated than it needs to be
>Sorry, guys, I don't get how this works.
Sorry i didn't mean to make this more complicated than it needed to be, I just wanted to expand Johnny's powerset.

As for how this works, I figured Johnny could jut form a spirit version of a glass lens however many inches out from his eye in order to act as essentially a spy glass and magnify whatever he's looking at.

If that was beyond his capability then he should be able to form a spirit spyglass by forming spirit-lenses between his fingers, but he'd have to act and look like a dumbass that was holding an invisible spyglass for it to work.

Here's a little explanation on the basics of the optics that I figured we'd be taking advantage of:

I figured this would be solidly in the realm of doable for Johnny seeing as he's already intuitively creating optical phenomena when we go invisible and when we put Philo on our glasses to search different wavelengths of light.
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Something like this.

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Following the Emperor's death at Endor, the once unstoppable Galactic Empire has cracked and began to crumble. While the members of the Rebel Alliance come together to form the NEW REPUBLIC, the remnants of the Empire begin to tear themselves apart at the hands of IMPERIAL WARLORDS who each seek to install them-self as the next emperor. With nearly half the galaxy in the hands of the New Republic, the IMPERIAL REMNANT seems powerless to stop the rebel advance.

Among the soldiers and sailors of the WARLORDS, terror and hope fills men and women in varying forms, as those who serve seek their calls of duty and responsibility, surviving just to live another day in a galaxy without order....
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The bait idea is dumb, but if we can use the ships as baits then we can get a tracker, which means we can track their battleship, which means we can blow it to shreds
the bomb idea*
Generally the brainstorming has brought up a few ideas, mainly the following, So I'll offer these as prompts

>set decoy trackers among Decoy ships, and then follow the signal to the enemy base

>Use decoy ships, then hyperspace the fleet delayed after the convoy to try catching the pirates in the act

>attempt to gather intel thru the underworld on the consortium presence
>set decoy trackers among Decoy ships, and then follow the signal to the enemy base
I think we shouldn't just jump in the moment we find their base though, we need to set up an ambush.
>attempt to gather intel thru the underworld on the consortium presence

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You’re STANLEY PARBLE: a girl with a weird name and an even weirder tale: after a centuries-old lich woke up during your graveyard shift at the GOOD BOY DOGGIE BONE factory, your simple life of janitorial work became a bit more… Complicated.

Sure, you became pals with your now-sentient skeleton (you named him LY) AND gained some nifty super powers from eating MAGICAL BONE MARROW, but that doesn’t change the fact that your hometown of Clearwater, California is overrun by HOMICIDAL SKELETONS Even worse, the guy in charge is dead-set on taking over the rest of the world while he’s at it. Not cool!

It’s not all doom and gloom, though--on top of beating your fellow janitor and arch-nemesis BORIS in an ARMORED VAN RACE, you were also finally rewarded with a VIP BUNKER in the massive doomsday shelter run by your quasi-evil employers! Getting some much-needed rest with your partners in crime, you also managed to delve deeper into your past bouts with memory loss thanks to a video tape provided by GOOD BOY’S Chief of Security: BLUMENKRANTZ.

Not to be outdone by your character development, your kidnapping victim-turned friend ART finally revealed how he managed to juke Death’s grasp in a lengthy and questionable flashback sequence. Say what you will about his storytelling skills, it’s good to have the Rent-A-Cop back!

After all, you’ll need all the help you can get! Though you’re HALF-WAY through the lich’s lieutenants, three still remain--one of which has his corsair cronies raiding CLEARWATER UNIVERSITY: a coastal college that just so happens to be where ART and three other wannabe filmmaker allies of yours, EDDIE, TUCKER, and KIKI, currently attend! Gearing up for a college tour of your own, you and your best pal SYBIL, Goth Mage and occult podcaster, took a moment to grab a few gifts for your teammates.

As fate would have it, however, your shopping trip was interrupted by the appearance of THE ORDER OF THE WANDERING EYE--a group of local occult fanatics with a penchant for wearing goofy robes and maintaining the magical barrier around GOOD BOY’S aforementioned doomsday shelter. It also doesn’t help that their leader, CURT BLACQUIERE, hangs out with BORIS.

Surrounded by LARPERs in a shady fallout bunker tunnel, THIS is where your story continues…
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Holding position, you keep your LASER EYE warm and your BONE CLAWS unsheathed as the two beasts rush for the cart!

Sugoi na…” Remarks the hexer as he pokes your claws. Good, you nod, you could use an enchantment or two!

“Uhhhh…” Grunts the jock as he points a beefy finger at the approaching eel, “Don’t wanna backseat, dude, but-”

Before he can finish his statement, you leap off the cart one more time as the bloody froth underwater closes in! Shrieking in anger as it breaches, RIP opens its mouth wide and sparks with electricity as TEAR aims his dishes your way! As the crowd goes wild in the background, you slip between the eel’s teeth once more and land on its tongue, then LAUNCH yourself upwards into the roof of its mouth!

Digging through bone, flesh, and eventually brain matter like a maggot on a mission, you emerge through the top of the eel’s head and hop to the cart just in time to watch the beast crash into his hermit crab counterpart in a shower of sparks! Stumbling backwards, the killer crustacean’s domes fire their payload into the crowd, utterly OBLITERATING the MARINE BIO SKELETONS!

While both RIP and TEAR are still sizzling, you take a position at the bow and adopt your best George Washington pose! As the crab struggles to remove its electrically-charged friend, you train your eye on one of its eyestalks and FIRE!

Sensing danger, TEAR hastily chops his snakelike comrade into pieces in an attempt to break free! As RIP’S remains tumble unceremoniously into the water, your laser connects with TEAR’S armored eyestalk and colors the metal armor orange with heat! Hissing in pain, the crab snaps up several chunks of eel bobbing in the water and tosses them your way!

“It’s gonna sink us!” shouts one of the girls!

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We can kill some skellies later and use their marrow.

Also is that GAMUGO, or is it just some Japanese student??
Little known fact about Stan, she was actually trained as a Sashimi chef, this is not true. But she totally intends to learn later though
Yes, he's the man behind the vtuber.
... That was a lie. He's just a Japanese Student. His name's Hideji. Try to guess how long I spent coming up with some of these hostages!

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We play as Percival Williams, a socially awkward Pokémaniac with a knack for communicating with Pokémon.
He’s currently on his journey across the Aztlan region while aiming to become a Professional Trainer. He has become tangled up in various sketchy business and situations regarding shady corporations, armed revolutionaries, psychics, giant Pokémon rulers, and dumb teenager stuff.

Your team so far consists of:
Mimikyu(Currently incapacitated) Resting at home.
Loudred Vulpix (Alolan)
“Prince” (Elekid)

Traveling partners:
-Kadabra: A teleporting friend.
-Eli: A punkish girl who aims to be the next regional Pokémon champion
-Gareth: 20 something college dropout who’s starting his Journey a bit too late

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>Try to stop the battle, explain yourself to the Cofragirus using Pokécommunication and signaling language
I almost want to roar, but I feel that would just get the entire lower ruins all riled up and that's not much better of a situation.
>Try to stop the battle, explain yourself to the Cofragirus using Pokécommunication and signaling language. (Needs roll: Medium-hard)

Not grave robbers, we're not taking anything. A purpose of a grave is so people will remember the ones buried there, which you cant do if you off everyone who happens to find it.
>A purpose of a grave is so people will remember the ones buried there, which you cant do if you off everyone who happens to find it.
And ancient civilizations had death records too, if I remember right. Isn't excessive guarding like this technically against the law back then?
>Try to stop the battle, explain yourself to the Cofragirus using Pokécommunication and signaling language. (Needs roll: Medium-hard)
>>Try to use “ROAR” to scare the Cofagrigus! (Needs roll: Medium)

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The first feeling you had was your face on cold concrete. You feel your temples pulsate, and you stand up to look forward and behind you. You've been a narcoleptic since grade school, but this is your first time waking up in a completely alien setting. In front of you is a shiny glass wall, and behind you is a progressively darker corridor.
What will you do?
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>slip into the dream
you got to go with the flow
We need to give up what we love the most to achieve true astral projection.
Toss the GodCB away free ourself of the mortal chains.
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The song stuck in your head loops to the dance moves of the figure in front of you.
There's no way to focus over this racket, so you chuck your trusty pin at them, sacrificing it for the greater good of leaving your body spiritually. Thankfully, you only had to give it up in your dream, and it's still on your person in reality. Now your spiritual form has left your body.
>Would you like to continue past the glass?
thats the whole point of this!

Four years have passed since what is now called “the Sunwell Crisis” - a time when the infamous Sunhawks, led by prince Kael’thas Sunstrider, attempted to summon the demonic Burning Legion into this world. In a desperate struggle the mad tyrant and his slavish loyalists were defeated - and a new age has begun for the elvenkind, one of recovery and prosperity.

But you are ‘Lynestra Dawnstrider’, the last Sunhawk and an extremist on the run from the elven law. Having escaped from your wonderous homeland, you chose the mountains of Alterac as your new refuge. Ruled by robber barons and petty nobles, this disgraced human kingdom is a turbulent rogue state, torn apart by strife and surrounded by enemies from all directions. Their one and only ally is the nefarious Argus Wake - a coven of warlocks with a mysterious agenda.
You've spent a day getting to know your new comrades at arms, trying to figure out who are your friends and foes, and what is it you want to achieve. However, those luxuries will not last forever, and the time for action is nigh...

>Google document, constantly updated

>Previously, on the Last Sunhawk
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Although, I am willing to change my vote if the other option gains some traction...

For once, our Crippled flaw may come in handy. If we choose to fight the duel, the injury will almost certainly net us at least one fate point (and potentially more), especially if we both agree to dismount, as we'll then have no choice but to stand our ground. The real question is, would Lynestra be haughty enough to do this?

The summons that she has access to suggest that her magic is actually pretty damn formidable in-character, and her stats indicate that she's no weakling despite the injury. Meanwhile, the death knight that we're facing off against wouldn't have his army of minions as backup, which would deny him one of his greatest advantages. Victory would also considerably boost our reputation around here and let us flex on Mercer as an added benefit.

I wouldn't imperil the entire quest by trying to convince everyone that this is the optimal choice, but I'm admittedly a sucker for this kind of drama, and the prospect is exciting.
Oh no, I understand the appeal of the one on one honourable duel. It would just be a cool moment, assuming we weren't curbstomped right away.

One quick thing though, I think both us and the death knight are already dismounted despite his picture displaying him on his horse, the cave probably didn't have a high enough ceiling for us to bring our horse in and the first mention of the DK says he is "standing" and that he "turns in place" and there is also mention of us striking our cane against the floor. So, running will be difficult no matter what.

Yes, Crippled will thankfully gain us a fate point, however on the roll that it comes up on we will have a -2 penalty, so we either have to immediately use it to counteract the penalty to avoid taking either Stress or a Consequence or just risk possibly taking the hit and save the fate point for our next crucial roll under the hope that the hit will cause Stress instead of inflicting some debilitating Consequence (if I am understanding how Stress and Consequences work in this system), which will add further penalties to our rolls thereby necessitating the use of the Fate Point just to negate our penalties. This is why at the end of last thread I mentioned that Flaws needed a slight asymmetrical buff of some sort, and why I was pleased at the beginning of this thread to see that my exact suggestion for the changes to our Flaws had been adopted.
Totally fine with using FP
I am not sure how much the QM has modified this, so take this entire post with a bucket of salt, but this is the short-short version. Stress was aptly compared to "health" in the previous threads, though abstractly it's more like a buffer of how much bad luck one can take without being seriously affected. Consequences can be taken in place of Stress, which do give penalties, but also "absorb" more numerical punishment than stress, and more importantly, can potentially go away if actions are taken to get rid of them. Being surrounded on all sides after failing a roll could be a Consequence, but escaping to a more favorable position would remove that Consequence.

It's worth remembering that the causes of Stress and Consequences aren't necessarily like taking hits in a fight. Being cursed by magic, terrified after an enemy withstands what should have been a sure-kill spell, or distracted by a chaotic melee are all examples of Consequences that the QM can choose to subject us to in this situation which would hamstring our ability to hang back and do damage, and force us to adopt a totally different approach.

This will likely be an unpopular take, but this is good, since being debilitated both incentivizes taking actions that we otherwise would not, and forces us into situations that we do not want to be in.
Okay, thanks for the explanation.

Honestly I should probably know this. FATE is one of the most popular "narrative-style" TTRPGs and I watched several Actual Plays years ago, not to mention I have the pdfs somewhere on my old broken laptop.

A Giant in the Silver Marches (4)

Twitter: https://twitter.com/ThatSlowTypingG
previous threads: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Silver%20Marches

>Character sheet / Dramatis Personae

You are Ulf, a Giant from the Stillwater plains. Among the tallest of the stone kin, your kind tower above any of the smaller races. With stone or bow you can lay waste to enemies from afar.

In the past you put your natural abilities to good use as a mercenary, working as part of
a siege regiment in the south. This past spring you headed into the yet untamed wilds of the silver marches, the lands north of the nearly impassable starlight mountains. Through the Tyrese gate you ventured heading for the dwarven city of Silver Mantle, the main outpost of civilization in the north. There you hoped to find greater wealth as sellswords are in high demand and money flows more freely. The prospect of being able to test your skills has also been a welcome one.

You've made plenty of friends in the lands surrounding Silver Mantle and beyond. Many of your fellow sellswords, both giants and the smaller folk, are known to you now. You've met strangers from distant lands, encountered some oddities from both near and far while making a suitably giant sized fortune in the process.

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>Was there anything you wanted to purchase here at the gate? Any supplies that the dwarves could work on gathering and have ready for you when you head back north?
I can't think of anything.
Sorry guys I've been getting tied up with family stuff as I'd worried about.
Heading out from the gate you follow the road south only a short ways before turning east following the curve of the mountains. Even here it remains cold with winter snows blanketing the land. Strong winds occasionally howl down from the starlight mountains. The occasional small airship can be seen in the distance making runs to the gate but a few more days east and they disappear from view.

Much of the land near the mountains is uninhabited or sparsely settled. Wolves, bears and other beasts are just as much a danger here as in parts of the north. No dire wolves though, at least none that are foolish enough to cross you. The giants in the iron hills must be well known enough that most predators give you a wide berth in your travels.

14 days out from the gate you enter into a more settled stretch of land. Some of the locals wave at you from a distance. Others that look to be soldiers from farther south arm themselves and look like they're expecting you to attack at any moment. They don't chase after you or anything, merely preparing to defend their guard towers. Hopefully your cousins haven't been getting into too much trouble.

Despite this you reach the iron hills less than a week later without incident. It doesn't take long to meet up with some of your kin. They of course demand to hear stories of your exploits and the others that spend time as sellswords share some of theirs from the south.

Ogres are rare this side of the mountains and few have encountered them before. Tales of their wrestling matches seem to intrigue your cousins and uncles the most.

"But what are the ogres actually like?"
"Very punchable. Almost like they were made to be punching bags. It's... a bit off-putting."

The story of fighting the Wyvern gets the most cheers and attention. Especially from those who are used to you and most of the others from the plains preferring ranged combat.
"We have to toughen you up so you can take on dragons next Ulf!"

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Family is calling I have to head out for a bit.
>[ ] This shouldn't look like that, have it checked

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