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File: xiaxia civquest map.png (751 KB, 743x585)
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You are Xing Xiaochen, a MID CORE CREATION matriarch of the independent Loving Hearts Sect within the Fertile Fields Region. You are a MINOR POWER as you do not have a nascent soul unlike the regional powers.

Your Dao is the Burning Love. You will burn the world with your love and the world will thank thee for it. Your Dao at core creation level provides internal benefits in boosting your personal recruitment, loyalty and socialization skills.

You are generally compassionate and loving however you bear long term grudges against those who slight you. You dream of a world of equality and freedom where people aren't bound by the rule of strength.

You are SKILLED in administration and SKILLED in pill refining. You have also been granted jade like beauty as well as immortality to age from the previous patriarch and your master.

Your local area had previously been ruled by the Golden Merchant Alliance but has since been taken over by the Xu clan in a war with your assistance. The war was one fraught with peril for the previous patriarch and your master died within this war.

The currently major event that is happening is the war with the Eternal Hate Sect which will happen in 30 years (3 turns).

Not familiar with Xianxia? Read this: https://immortalmountain.wordpress.com/glossary/wuxia-xianxia-xuanhuan-terms/

Previous threads: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=xianxia+civ

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Rolled 56, 9, 64 = 129 (3d100)

OP where are you ?
Sorry anons, alot of shit is happening IRL and I will no longer be able to continue the quest until February at the earliest. Maybe I'll pick it up again in February when real life calms down a bit but don't bet on it.

Thanks for playing everyone.
wow feb. Alright, see you if I spot it in the catalog
No worries mate, take your time to resolve irl stuff, we can wait.

>woke up
>saw this
>wat do now?
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>黒いたわごと:エイドキット? 私たちはここに一晩滞在すると思いました
"私はそれを言いましたか? 私はあなたに病院に行くように言っただけです"
>黒いたわごと: ああ、なるほど。
>黒いたわごと: ええ、急いでみましょう、ファントムが現れる前にまだ時間があります
>le john stands before the hospital
>le john sees a car parking next to it
>"shit, there are people here, can't tell whether or not they are hostile"
>le john walks closer to the main entrance
wat will Johnny do?
1911: 15 rounds
Pack of gum

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Dance harder Johnny, intimidate them with footloose that only you can hear because headphones
Intimidate them with your pattented le Jhonny skills
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>le johnny walks in
>bgm starts playing
>le johnny holds his steel bat prepared
>le john keeps on walking through the dark hallway
>le john wanders around the hospital for a while
>le john walks into the medication room
>le john gets the required equipments
>"lucky of me, now i can get the fuck out of here"
>le john hears footsteps approaching slowly

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The 4chan branch of sketch quest is first come first serve for choices.
[Tutorial 1/2]
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Sorry about the long delay folks been a weird couple of days.
It's not dead! I'm just dumb. Also SQ is first come first serve for choices rather than a vote. The Discord branch of SQ will be vote based, but that's still awhile away cause I'm fucking lazy/
>Search the Hot Topic some more

Vote BASED you say??? That's pretty based bro
You joke but this does remind me of the game PAGAN: Autogeny where you search an abandoned mall for estrogen capsules and body parts.

>Up the escalator
I want to see what the difference is before and after the gear.

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I've been sitting on this for far too long, so it's time it got out of my brain.
Despite humanity's best efforts, the time it would take for the Earth to start to recover from centuries of abuse would be too long for the ever increasing population. Thus, mankind joined together to form the Earth Reformation Coalition(ERC) and began plans to develop both space colonies orbiting the earth and other planets as well as forming colonies on various planets and moons within our solar system. To assist in this task, machines crafted in humanity's image were born to handle the task of building the colonies that would become the homes of mankind's future. These mechanical representations of humanity's dreams, given the catch-all name of Steel Scouts (SS), would allow humans to survive as far as Saturn, beginning what would later be called the Solar Era (SE)

However, corruption and hatred would lead to the SS being turned into tools of war after Jovian space colony Lumiere 4 staged a bloody uprising using modified SS developed from the leftovers of the colony's construction. While the conflict was ultimately stopped, the future of the mankind under the leadership of the renamed Neo Earth Confederacy (NEC) remains uncertain.

In this brewing storm of history is where your story begins. Who are you?
>A soldier in the NEC's army who's stationed in the Martian Colony Phobos 3. (real type more likely)
>A high schooler who lives in the Titan Colony of Shangri-La. (super type more likely)

Also are you
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>Just focus on getting used to how Dynafort moves before trying weapons
>Test out movements that exceed traditional steel scout motions using the thrusters

>Just focus on getting used to how Dynafort moves before trying weapons
Need 3 1d100s to see how well you handle Dynafort's speed
Rolled 25 (1d100)

Rolled 51 (1d100)

Me at work

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+Log I/VII: Momentum+
+Date: 112.375.M41+
+Location: Battle Barge Aspera Dominus, Sector Deus

You can smell smoke.

Aspera Deus is burning. Your mighty Chapter Battle Barge is surrounded by clouds of debris, flames sprouting from its sides. Hundreds of point defence turrets are blindly firing thousands of tracer rounds into silence. Chapter serfs crushed under collapsed bulkheads, navigator drowned in the pool of his own blood, battle brothers frantically trying to keep the boarders at bay, falling one by one to buy you time. And just outside of the porthole, you can see the tentacles of darkness itself, waiting for the ship to finally fail and fall into the abyss.

An explosion by your side rips into a group of Ghosts of Retribution, cooking them alive in their power armour. A moment later, a loud crack shakes your very bones as the ship breaks in half and the void engulfs you.


The smell of smoke was still strong when you woke up. You haven’t had such weird dreams since your encounter with that Eldar entity, Cegorach. And was that even real? It has been so long ago and so weird, that sometimes you start questioning your own memory.

But now is not the time to daydream. Today is the first day of the Styrian Crusade, as your brainchild is about to come to life. While donning your armour, you whisper to yourself a short Prayer of Warding, asking the Emperor to make sure it does not turn out to be anything like the dreams which have been tormenting you these past few weeks.

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Kruun remains under the state of war as Brethorius and the rest of Ghosts depart a few months later, but you know that eventually victory will inevitably follow there.

Next time, we will turn to Stranx...

+Session over+
So, I think I prefer running two sessions per week, but I also am also unsure if I will be able to continue doing this constantly. Preliminarily I will confirm via Luigi whether we are playing on Monday, but if not, then we will do 2 sessions again the next week. Thanks for playing and see you next time!
Thanks Skargan!
Thank you! 'Twas a good session!
During the taking of Ararco City were any of the prisoners high ranking Styrians etc.?

I assume there's some kind of Inquisition or Logis Strategos elements in our forces that are going to be interrogating these people. As per >>4598971

What we want to know are the Styrians' intentions with Kruun. Do they have any ulterior motives with it etc. or is it just meant to be a speedbump to tie up Imperial Forces?

Would be grateful if we could have this intel before locking-in our decision on how to continue with Kruun.
In addition, we should make sure the locals are aware of our amnesty offer for those who have been born since the rebellion.

It's been over 40 years. At least half the population by now must be the children of the former-convicts. They don't need to be imprisoned, they can live on free settlements. Hopefully this kind of offer should at least sow discord between the locals and their Styrian overlords. Even the convicts who know they will be re-imprisoned must surely want to take the offer to save their children.

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The year is 2021. The United States of America has again descended into Civil War. Across major cities, communists rise up under the banner of the Proletariat Revolution. In the Northwest, a fascist warlord state has emerged to provide order and security. The East Coast is consumed by fighting between remnants of the US military, patriotic warlord groups, and U.N. Peacekeepers. Texas is its own republic again, and the West Coast has turned into a Chinese puppet state run by powerful mega-corporations. The whole world's going up in flames, and nobody knows what tomorrow will bring...

You are The Messenger (former name, Walter White) and you lead the Sun Belt Crusaders. Your group is best described as a radical Catholic cult claiming the papal throne and supporting itself via meth trade, violence, and cunning diplomacy. Having fled your former territory in Southern California, you have established a presence in Arizona, specifically in the village of Mobile just southwest of Phoenix.

Your radical group has not only won the support of the nearby communities diplomatically, but has proven itself to be a powerful force on the battlefield in taking a mountain base used to launch raids on surrounding communities and finding success in smaller skirmishes. The nearby town of Maricopa has begun to provide significant material support in exchange for your services, especially in light of aggressive actions by downtown Phoenix's revolutionary republic. Your crusaders have returned from two missions, one of which involved dealing with petty raiders and bandits in the sparsely populated south, and the other involving unorthodox diplomacy involving joining eclectic urban terrorists in drinking and shooting.

Your faction is currently growing, building, and as secure as can be in light of the many dangers in the Southwestern Badlands. These dangers range from groups of roving bikers, potential cartel elements, hostile government actors (perhaps even in your own faction), and probably a myriad other groups you're slowly, but surely coming into contact with. The proverbial elephant in the room though is the major urban center of Phoenix. Phoenix is currently occupied with a massive war raging between the communist Phoenix Occupied Zone (POZ) and a loose coalition of right wingers. If either faction takes control of the city, it will immediately become the regional hegemon and a threat to everyone else. And, of course, Chinese controlled California or another outside faction could start making moves in the area at any time.

Your short-term goal is to serve the Maricopans and build up your base of power. Your medium term goal is to secure Phoenix and set your sights on California. Your end goal is to bring the Glory of Christ to the entire country, no matter the cost in blood, meth, or tears...
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The two of you had talked about this at length in private. As you see it, the best option is to:


So one of the single meme arrow prompts along with one of the double meme arrow prompts below it. Couldn't think of a particularly good way to format this...


>Find the last and main traitor safehouse to eliminate it and anyone there. Hope that it will be enough of a blow to neutralize the radicals as a threat.
>>Do some enhanced interrogation on a lower level guy in detention and brute force this. Dolores will make sure his guards turn a blind eye.

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Kept you waiting, huh? The above is basically two large updates in one since Mahoney took basically every contrarian option possible and then fucked up a leadership roll hard enough to have his force go full no-confidence on him. The overall effort was probably a significant success, since you guys will probably get a nice meth deal going if you don't fuck it up. Also, I had much of it done a while ago, but I sat on it and tried to rewrite and let it sit. I'm still not 100% satisfied with the final result, but it's not like I can just sit on it further. If there are questions about what is going on exactly, do ask. I didn't want to write too much and just vomit text out there so some things are vague or to be inferred. The short version is that things at the Native Reservation accelerated past schedule, which grants an opportunity to quash things before it can be really, really damaging (i.e. Maricopa-POZ encounter in a week~). This is the fairly major choice of how Mueller is going to deal with it.

Also, I had a horrible tech issue where I thought my computer's was about to "go commit die" as the kids say, but the QM curse can't get me, not yet at least!

2nd US Civil War is dead. Long live 2nd US Civil War!
>>Figure out who the three remaining traitors on the council are and deal with the threat from the top down. Cut off the head and the rest will sort itself out.

>>>Talk to the imprisoned council member, find out his motivations, and convince him to give up their identities in exchange for clemency. Maybe playing nice is playing smart after all?
>Figure out who the three remaining traitors on the council are and deal with the threat from the top down. Cut off the head and the rest will sort itself out.
>>Talk to the imprisoned council member, find out his motivations, and convince him to give up their identities in exchange for clemency. Maybe playing nice is playing smart after all?

Taking off the head means less trouble and bloodshed when dealing with the body.

I imagine it's mostly the bureaucrat types that are the majority of the problem, and that the other council members would be more than willing to help, if only to try and preserve their own political interests, but we may have a opportunity here. If we manage to flip the imprisoned member, not only do we have access to information for other potential raids, but organizational trust will start to degrade, and it may encourage other members to come forward willingly in response to our leniency. A lack of trust and leadership will kill their organization without us having to lose more manpower in mop-up operations, as well as becoming a PR coup for the Crusaders.

It's good to see you alive and well, you almost had me worried there for a minute!
>Find the last and main traitor safehouse to eliminate it and anyone there. Hope that it will be enough of a blow to neutralize the radicals as a threat.

>>Do some enhanced interrogation on a lower level guy in detention and brute force this. Dolores will make sure his guards turn a blind eye.
>>Have you and the deputies split up and look for places with suspiciously high levels of traffic. If there's any time a safehouse would be abnormally active, it'd be now.
>>Get a trusted person to try and infiltrate them and get the location. The traitors are probably getting an influx of new blood in this chaos, so go undercover.
>>[Write-In the means by which to locate the last safehouse for a final raid]
DO all 3 to cross reference where it likely is with high probablity. We take out the bottom legs of this infiltration it will either make the top guys have to be more active and obvious and eventually we'll get someone who knows someone else higher up.
Also check out and follow some of the people who seemed to be "pro" POZ during the outrage.

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You drag yourself out of sleep's embrace with no idea of who you are. All you know is that there is something out there that you are running from, and that your body feels as though it's on fire.

One by one, your senses return to you. You're greeted with the smell of your own stale sweat and the taste of blood lingering in your mouth – you must've bitten your tongue at some point. The sound of an engine rumbling in the background peters out and the faint sensation of movements dies with it. At last, you crack open your eyes to take a look at your surroundings.

You're in the baggage car of a train, wedged in between two heaps of suitcases. You have no idea how you were able to fall asleep there – you must've been exhausted. Even the dull, artificial lighting of the car stings your eyes, and your every effort to move is agonizing. Sleeping in such an awkward position has left you feeling horribly stiff and cramped, and then there's that burning sensation in your shoulder only makes matters worse. It feels as though a chunk has been torn out of it.

Before you can stir too much, there's a new sound. One of the doors to the car slides open with a metallic grating. Nestled among the baggage as you are, you have no way of seeing who opened the door and thankfully, they have no way of seeing you. You hear a couple of footsteps, and then a voice.

“I know you're in here so come on out, kid!” It's the voice of an ageing man, in his fifties at the youngest. Though he's trying to speak with authority, he doesn't sound very convincing. “Even if you have a ticket, you better have a damn good excuse for why you're sneaking around here!” You don't know how he figured out that you're here but then again, you don't know anything at all – who you are, where you are or how you got here.

>You're not particularly big, so hiding comes easy to you. Squeeze yourself behind some of the baggage and stay there until the conductor's gone. Once you're alone again, you can figure out what to do next.
>Reveal and explain yourself to the conductor. You have a way with words, and you're sure you can earn his sympathy. You might even be able to learn a few things about where you are and how you got here.
>You're a natural athlete. Even as sore and cramped as you are, you're pretty sure that you can outrun a middle-aged train conductor. Break into a sprint when the time's right and get the hell off of this train.
>Who does this old man think he is? Even though you have no memories, you get the feeling that you're no stranger to brawling. As soon as he comes close enough, spring out from your hiding place and kick his ass.
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>You need to know more about what you are, but you can't think of anyone who can help you. Maybe Shaun, the park ranger that Deborah mentioned?
>There was something special about that other world – Hisil, Iiníí called it, the land of spirits. You need to find a way back there. That's where you belong.
>He doesn't worship Mother Moon
Serious answer: it's in-character; we've escaped anyone helping us once we got what we needed so far, why'd we go and promise to repay some buffalo spirit now? Besides, we're uninjured and even healed our shoulder in the process, I'd call that a win.
>You've got an address, and that's enough. It's time for you to begin the long, slow journey back to Charlotte and your old life.
We need to get to the internet and research these legends
>You've got an address, and that's enough. It's time for you to begin the long, slow journey back to Charlotte and your old life
did op get eaten by werewolves?

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The year is 1979.

Your are Atticus Hart, a junior at the isolated, elite Southeil Preparatory School.

Yesterday, you found a girl hanging in a closet.

You are currently being interrogated by a federal officer.

Two years ago this room was the site of your freshman English class, where you came each day to discuss classic literature with disinterested peers. Today, it is a shell of its former self. Early morning light creeps around the edges of drawn curtains, just enough to see by. A flat wooden table with a chair on either side serves as the room’s sole furniture. Long, thin strips of paper, covered in occultic runes, are nailed into the bare walls.

The runes have POWER. You can feel it, in the hairs on your neck. In your teeth. In you bones.

The man who sits in the chair across from you, gaunt faced and wearing an ill-fitting suit, watches you carefully. He repeats his question. “Mr. Hart,” he says with a voice that creaks like old wood, “where were you at 8 AM yesterday?”

You open your mouth to speak and the POWER rushes down your throat, filling your words with an unyielding truth. You dare not lie. You CANNOT lie. “I was…”

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>So you weren’t a stalker. But you still watched her.
"You had an unhealthy way of dealing with your crush"
>>So you weren’t a stalker. But you still watched her.
>>So you weren’t a stalker. But you still watched her.
Tell us what you know 'watcher'.
I concur with this approach.

>So you weren’t a stalker. But you still watched her.

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Your name is Elise. Elise Martins. And, to put it simply, you are not normal.

What you are is a mutant— one of the many few in Konigsburg who possess strange and unnatural abilities due to the explosion of FutureLabs’ particle accelerator.

You have two brothers, Matt and John, but it's only Matt who knows of your powers. You’ve also made a friend, Bernard, who also happens to be a mutant.

Together, the three of you operate under the title of the M-Guard, saving mutants from the ever-encroaching hands of FutureLabs while also working to shut the organization down for good.

>Previously on Mutant!Quest: (big recap edition) As you attempt to get along with your newly-acquired mutant fugitives, you set yourselves up a base (or a lair) in what had once been a vacant warehouse. In the meantime, you find out more about Julia-- a powerful mutant with a very strong case of amnesia.

>Although it is not entirely certain, it is suspected that she had been Jewel, one of the Crux's higher-ups who had possessed the power of glass control. However, both her current abilities and personality are a far-cry from the mutant who you had been acquainted with during your time in the Crux. One thing that's for certain is that Julia had been one of the first subjects for the Epsilon Trials -- a series of strange experiments conducted by FutureLabs with a purpose that is not entirely clear.

>Sometime later, you and Matt end up visiting John in the hospital and end up meeting Clyde in the process, who intends to talk to John about his actions in the sewers. His rudeness and general behavior leads you to tell him to screw off a bout of impulse, nixing your chances of passing under his radar, and, although he leaves, there's no doubt in your mind that the Australian would return. No matter, whatever it was that Clyde wanted, you're sure that it's nothing good.
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I understand your point, but IC it makes sense due to his time out of home

>but IC it makes sense due to his time out of home

Yeah, this was actually my exhaustion logic here. Now that I'm less sleep-deprived, I totally see how this could be interpreted as metagaming.

But anyways, writing!
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You decide to check up on John before you go to bed. Even if you haven't seen much of him, you should see if he's alright at the very least.

"John, you alright?" You start after a couple of knocks on the door.

It takes longer than you think it would, but eventually he responds with a "Yeah..." where the rasp in his throat is clear. "I think I came down with something. Probably picked it up from the hospital."

That would explain it, at least beyond the exhaustion.

"Sorry for the mess I left you guys in the kitchen. Meant to clean that up but forgot."

"No," You cut him off. "Matt and I will take care of it." At least you will. "And you shouldn't be doing much anyways."

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Yeah... that's the tone of voice you hear people use when they're not being nice cause they want to, but because they have to. You suppose it's better than his default prickly-douchebag mode that he normally sports.

>In any case, what do you do?
>Well... since he wasn't an asshole about it you don't have that big of a problem, but if he mindfucks Matt then there's going to be a problem; give him a conditional yes.
>"I'm guessing this is for more power training?" You don't like it all that much, but you'll agree to it for Matt so he can continue upping his knife skills.
>"We're kind of busy today and need Matt's mind to work one-hundred percent." It's a passive-aggressive, indirect no, but a no nonetheless.

>"We're kind of busy today and need Matt's mind to work one-hundred percent." It's a passive-aggressive, indirect no, but a no nonetheless.
Don't feel like we'd be comfortable with this. Matt uses a bat anyway. Why is he even so eager to teach Matt?

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Once upon a time, there was a great war, for command of a single wish. It gathered heroes and "heroes" from time immemorial. A bloody war, a ruthless war, with both beauty and terror. It has been repeated. It has been lost, time and time again, with no victor, with a ruined ritual, with blackened mud and corrupt officials. It had become, over time, a mockery of itself, a fool's errand with no victor.

In some timelines and some places, it has been discarded in its entirety or changed so dramatically as to barely resemble itself. There have been a billion billion permutations of the Grail, of the mechanisms behind it, of the power that it holds. The same actors on the same stage with minor and major changes.

My name is Solomon. Not the Solomon you may know. I am a Solomon of another time, a 'fictional shell' who won an incarnation of his Grail War through happenstance and luck. A caster beyond scope and knowledge, who wished himself to reality when he grasped the truth of the Grail and banished the taint that had broken it. I am the King of Demons, a Caster-class Servant who knows not the boundaries of magic. And thus I looked upon the Grail ritual, and found it wanting. So I made one of my own.

A Grand Grail. A greater war - an expansion of one of the incarnations of the war I was intrigued by. Not Seven servants, but twenty one.

Seven servants of History, whose exploits and heroism grant them entry.
Seven servants of Fiction, whose legends and stories grant them entry.
Seven servants of Lore, whose influence and greatness grant them entry.

Twenty one Servants, twenty one Masters, called to the "new world", as befits a new grail.

And thus, I must ask of you, who I am extending this invitation to: Who are you? Answer not in shame. You are qualified merely by dint of receiving this letter.

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>I should ask Archer if she's homesick.
We will make 2hu real.
>I should focus on and review the roster of Servants.
>I should ask Archer if she's homesick.
>I should focus on and review the roster of Servants.
>I should ask Archer if she's homesick.

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Your name is Kyle. Kyle Parris.

And if anyone were to ask how to describe you after meeting you for the first time, it'd probably be either 'I dunno, pretty normal,' or 'Cool, but kinda distant.' But then again, Warington is a big enough city- being near the ocean helps. Great view for a place just south of a mess of smog like New York. Warington isn't like that. It's big enough that folks that do and don't get along don't have to suffer each other too badly.

You suppose it depended on how much they valued silence. You're not much of a talker, but you can certainly carry a conversation if it's important. You're not against it or anything. At least school doesn't care- you get B's in physics regularly- enough to convince your perfectionist sister you're just slacking. She's big on the whole 'family legacy' thing, because your pop's a brainiac scientist and your mother does environmental research. As for you? No clue what you wanna do. But hey, college is like that sometimes, right? Besides, you're a freshman. Not like it matters much in year one.

They're cool enough, though- which is why you'd taken your dad up on his offer of coming with him to work one evening. Some sort of 'blind' particle reactor research they had going on in multiple states, some big thing he was excited for. You had to hide a grin. Your dad was excited for everything. Sounded almost like a competition or something...anyway, you'd promised you'd meet him there. You were 18, you had a car and a license, you're gonna use 'em, damnit!

It'd all seemed like it went well enough. The trip out to the city outskirts was fun. You talked to some pretty cool scientists- including one smoking hot lady named Angel- gods, her name was perfect. She was young, smart, and the way she moved...well, when your dad wasn't around, anyway. Wouldn't mind seeing HER again...

Well, if she'd survived. See, that was the problem. Apparently, not long after you'd left...something had happened. There was an explosion. It'd thrown you off the road, into the trees. You'd felt pain, felt grass and bark, then...nothing.

When you'd woken up, you'd...you'd been alright. Somehow. Your car was toast, though. Rats. But something...felt off. And the flowers surrounding you were arranged a little too perfect. It hadn't taken long before you realized. Something had changed. Something big.

Mutant powers had always SOUNDED cool, but you hadn't expected anything happening to YOU. But... here you were. And you were really glad you weren't too sociable all of a sudden, because...

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Have to roll for it.

I trust the die.

Wait, you mean 1d100 or 1d2?
Rolled 73 (1d100)


Oookay here goes.

Were you to travel the stars, across this vast universe, no doubt tales of a mighty warrior race would reach your ears. Many speak of the Saiyans with awe and wonder, marveling at their power and aspiring to become like them. Others speak in hushed tones, of the fear and despair in facing the warrior race in battle. But one thing all agree on, is that standing against the might of the Saiyan race would spells certain doom. Many have tried, several going as far as to invade the Saiyan’s homeworld of New Salda. Yet every invasion has failed, defeated by the Saiyans and their most powerful warriors: the golden-haired Super Saiyans, and the green-haired legend who leads them. But once more they march, leaving their home behind and advancing into the heart of their enemy’s territory. Which side will triumph, and who will perish?

Welcome to Saiyan Conqueror Quest, the story of an alternate timeline in the greater Dragonball world. Currently it is Age 749 and you the players control Karn: once an ordinary Saiyan warrior with a meager powerlevel of 2,830. Throughout your many adventures, the “Dragon of New Salda” has grown into the radiant symbol of Saiyan might. Now as a PTO general with a powerlevel of over 34 million, and close friend and confidant of Lord Freeza himself, Karn has become one of the strongest beings in the entire universe.

Character sheets and other info:

Quest rules are as follows:
>30 minute voting windows from post time
>Pick ONE option when voting (unless otherwise noted)
>Dice rolls are all best of first three, only correctly rolled dice pools will count
>Crits are 100 on a d100(a 99 or paired rolls may net you an extra bonus)
>Crit fails -only- occur if no roll passes the DC, or if two different 1s are rolled which will OVERRIDE even a critical success, resulting in a catastrophic crit failure

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Yo GD, shot in the dark time. Is the dimension itself the stand's body?
And to mister forever, bet you cant read this out loud: reverof lavinrac
No. And that won’t affect it.
>Without them around, who’s empire is large enough to even threaten the PTO?
I was thinking about it. I'm not sure about what empire would it be. Maybe after this defeat Covenant will be engaged in infighting, because of such failure many within it may voice their displeasure with current leadership. Like perhaps Sangheili will be like "If we were in charge of this whole war, we would have won, we should be leading the Covenant". Those internal conflicts may take some time.
Maybe after a while Covenant changed from the one we know now may start rising again. Or perhaps the future will looks entirely different.
>who’s empire is large enough to even threaten the PTO?
I'm not sure, but I know one person who could try to simply steal all PTO for himself. Pic related.
>I think he just meant Carnival Forever is having a bunch of covenant prisoners and such given to it to be its victims.
That would be better for us, as Stand that can live after it's user's death would be bigger problem than it already it. It seems to be very rare but Stand "Notorious B.I.G" was dangerous even after it's user's demise.
>You know, reading it again I think in fact I can still do exactly what I planned on doing, to a greater effect even.
That's very good. Only few hours remain before we resume the battle with Carnival Forever. SOON intensifies
>Like perhaps Sangheili will be like "If we were in charge of this whole war, we would have won, we should be leading the Covenant".
Maybe if their homeworld, and most of their kind weren’t already conquered/slaughtered, they could.
>pic related
Will be a whole lot of fun. For me.
Now that was a fun one
It’s time! >>4608811


It's a brisk morning -- just a little bit too cold and dry for snow, although there must have been some overnight. Snow covers a lot of ugliness, you reflect as you look at the docks. Even so, dock work never stops; not in a modern port; if you pay attention, you can already see black streaks left by stevedores carrying coal, naphta, and all the myriad goods that those two igneous servants of humanity enable the transport of.

But this is no display of industrial health; your country is dying. The entire world is dying.

By the turn of the 20th century, it was surmised, humanity could tackle the biblical apocalypse, and win; you remember, in the foolishness of early adolescence, reading a pulp novel featuring pith-helmeted Maxim gun crews taking on demonic hordes. But even if that had been anything more than a tenpenny fantasy, what one apocalypse could not do, three would have done. Have done.

First, was the Great War. Across Europe and Africa, for four long years nation fought against nation, with thousands of young men dying to conquer a stone's throw worth of land back and forth every day. Infantry charged into machine guns, biplanes and zeppelins fought in the sky and laid waste to the ground, mighty battleships dueled at sea. Having conquered land and beast, man turned on itself in the war to end all wars. After two long years, the war petered down and largely ended, with no clear winner, simply out of the exhaustion of a continent.

The armistice, brought with it the Great Plague; American troops from Kansas crossed the ocean with it, and it spread in the trenches, able to cross the pockmarked land that no man could. Some called it divine punishment, some the inevitable result of the industrialization of society brought about by total war. Man, having proclaimed his invincibility, was brought low by an animal so tiny as to be invisible.

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The next morning, you announce your plans.

"We're going further inland to Site 103. Our task is to find a suitable place to build a town, and I believe that once the thaw finally comes, we will have mineral resources sufficient to sustain a number of industries for a long time."

What you don't say is that you aren't sure there will be a thaw any time soon, and that having the mountains at your back and only a narrow branch of the fjord as the main way into the small valley that the site is in makes it considerably easier to defend, if it ever comes to that.

"We're going to build the longhouse into a proper harbor here, and use the crawlers to pull each barge upriver as far as it'll go, before unloading manually."

You have two "donkey engines" that can be used as cranes to speed up unloading and construction; they can also be used to speed up timber operations as you go further out afield. You decide to invest

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A few people voice their preference for site 113, simply because it'll be easier to fish there; two or three ask if they'll get paid for the whole job even if it's finished earlier.

Mr. Miller says that you're technically a little behind schedule, being as he figured you'd want to set up the long range radio first thing, but it's only been a few days. He does seem a little antsy about flapping around loose, and you figure he'd prefer to be flapping around at the end of a very long string.

Forlanini has sketched a plan for a small geothermal pylon that could be used to support an outpost of a dozen people, which you could build with local resources -- especially if metal can be smelted locally.

> Please focus, Mr. Forlanini; let's get the big spike where it has to go and worry about that later.
> We don't have a lot of spare paper, but sure, sketch away.

Later on in the day, Yelena asks you how much defense featured in your site selection.
> Tell her what you think (or what you think she wants to hear)

She's been discussing pitfalls and benefits of setting up what amounts to a sauna with Dr. Ainsworth; it would have to either be heated by coal or use up a significant percentage of the geothermal spike's output, but it would also be a lot more effective in maintaining hygiene than any sort of ordering people around. Ainsworth is worried about people catching a cold upon leaving, and is skeptical about Yelena's explanation about saunas in Nordic cultures. Nevertheless, the older woman is smart enough to recognize that experience has value.
> speed; both barges will be moved over the next three days. (30 coal per trip, total 60)
>second (if you go slow, you'll be able to start building while the 2nd barge moves)
> act as a long-range patrol and look for other human presence
also go hunting if the opportunity presents, send the Miller hunter guy
>Why not
America, fuck yeah.
> Please focus, Mr. Forlanini; let's get the big spike where it has to go and worry about that later.
> Tell her what you think
Attacking us is going to be fairly difficult due to the cold, we're close to a mountain so we could set up a watchtower up there if needed, and ore will provide us manufacturing capabilities we wouldn't otherwise have, possibly on site production of guns.
Supporting this
> speed; both barges will be moved over the next three days. (30 coal per trip, total 60)
>first (if you go slow, you'll be able to start deploying the spike while the 2nd barge moves)
> act as a long-range patrol and look for other human presence
> Why not.
> We don't have a lot of spare paper, but sure, sketch away.
> Tell her what you think (or what you think she wants to hear)

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South Lawndale, Little Village. I had a task at hand, and I wasn't going to waste time.

I landed on the entry sign some time after dusk, 'Beinvidos A Little Village'. Street lights bathed shop signs written in Spanish, places like 'La Villita' and 'Carniceria', 'Les Comales', named for places like 'Laredo' or 'El Paso', interrupted by the occasional 'Western Union'. It was a busy afternoon despite the cold, with groups clustered around food trucks, calling out across the street to passing friends. I could only understand every fifth or sixth word, a snatch of English thrown in with the rapid-fire Spanish. I really should learn Spanish.

Other than that it wasn't too different from any other Chicago neighborhood, not too different from mine at least. Traffic, cars and people, packed the street in both directions. Halloween was coming up, Day of the Dead out here, and sugar skulls were starting to creep into decorations. A brick wall was taken up mural had been painted of a skeleton in saintly robes praying beneath names in black, smoke rising up around the figure. Boquets of flowers and stuffed children's toys had been left in front of it, alongside home made crosses with the same names repeated again.

A public memorial to dead children.

I stayed up high on the rooftops, keeping to the shadows hoping no one looked up. I'd have stood out either way among the brown faces. White Mexicans are a thing, and I don't mean like the fat pervert Louis CK, but down in Little Village they weren't looking all that common.

It made it easier to spot who did stand out, and in a hunt for the elusive Navaja it only helped.

You'd think in a city of several million I wouldn't keep running into the same faces, but I guess the world of organized crime was a touch smaller. He leaned on his white motorbike outside a club, helmet pulled off to show his shaggy blond pug face. Billy Lonegran, a chump shitkicker for the Stunt Crew MC. He sat outside with two other white bikes, alone with a bottle of tequila, looking wary at the passing crowds.

Rough types came in and out of the club, live music thrashing out through the half open black doors with a hot, chaotic energy. The guys were tattooed up, gang marks scrawled across faces and hands. The girls were the usual kind who got caught up with those types. A couple stopped to talk to Billy but there wasn't any trouble. A Reaper, one of his jacket sleeves loose showing he only had one arm, limped by into the club.

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I have to deal with something that could take a couple of hours. I will be back though
I don't get it, what's the harm in checking out what info he's collected on the explosion?
Takes up useful time we need to use to learn chemistry
>change the subject to the Chicago Explosion
I don't think discounting their research because they're "kids" makes much sense when Eric is 15 himself. And I haven't seen any viable alternative ways to look into the explosion.

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Based on the game of the same name, the Anons shall follow a man who was picked up by the recruiters of Nanotrasen. In exchange for paying off all his debt, he shall serve Nanotrasen for 5 years as an indentured worker. With him you shall face Traitors, Changelings, Wizards, Cults, and the incompetence of your fellow crew members. In the end, Death is not the end of your service.

Previous Quest was Otome Gone Wrong Quest, which has finished!


Standard Skills
Social Skills
>Authority: Ordering those who are below you
>Fellowship: Interacting with those who are equal to you
>Conspiracy: Talking to those who are not on the best of fellows

Intellectual Skills
>Technology: Messing with items that are held in the hand, such as computers and weapons.
>Machines: Messing with things that cannot be held in the hand, such as APCs, Freezers, Autolaves, and Telecommunication Systems.

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Thanks for running, man.
See you soon, OP
Not a bad way to wrap up the thread. I'm surprised that we already evacuated a station.
Next Thread

Also, if someone can archive this that would be great!!
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Badmin%20QM time to shill the thread boys

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