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File: QuestPicture.png (1.55 MB, 1200x1200)
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Your eyes opened, your body was chilled to the bone, and when your vision returned to you, you found yourself sitting in your dimly lit Saiyan Pod, your body was stiff, and your armor was covered in a layer of icy rime. Your bleary eyes slowly move to look at the console, and you are alarmed to find it completely dead. Damn it! Did the crash take out the internal systems? Where the hell did you land, anyway? Your Pod is meant to be sealed from the environment! Your memories are still kind of foggy right now. You can remember that you were sent to this planet... Onisthena II, to lead your squad on a raid mission, but the crash must've shaken your memories a bit.

You try to remember a little bit about yourself. You're Rettace, a prodigy among the Saiyans, and the most powerful warrior to ever come out of the training camps. Unlike every Saiyan who came before you, you had been given your own squad of recruits immediately. Your second in command Parzlee was something of your rival in this regard. The two of you had both left the training camps with the highest battle powers ever recorded for fledgling warriors, immediately classed as Super-Elites, your 7504 compared to her 7246. Her sister, Khive, was also in the squad, though her power was quite a bit lower than her sisters own, barely more powerful than a Saibaman at 1607. She only barely passed the 1500 threshold to become a Low-Class Saiyan warrior after begging for help from her sister.

The final member of your squad was your best friend, Scalli. He was a Mid-Class Warrior, with a power level of 3470. There had been an uproar about your squad's formation from the existing captains, outraged by the idea of a boy not even 20 interstellar years old, being given his own squad to lead. Though you weren't stupid, and though you couldn't refuse the order, you knew that you and Parzlee were given this ultra-dangerous mission in an attempt to rid the Saiyans of you both. King Vegeta himself only had a power level of 12000, and so he feared you and Parzlee growing too powerful and attempting to usurp control of the Saiyans for yourselves, as was the Saiyan way.
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>Mirror Wave
>Greater Ki Reserve

No point acquiring a whole bunch of techniques if they tucker us out immediately.

>Enhanced Healing

>Breaker Rush

>Orochalcum Snipe

>Shape-changing Demon

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Hey, Khive got something! Proud of her.

>Adept Ki Charge

>Weaponized Materialization
The healing is really REALLY tempting, but man this is just so fucking versitile

>Breaker Rush
Having cripling moves on the team certainly doesn't hurt. Also a lethal alternative.

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I'll change
>Greater Ki Reserve
>Adept Ki Charge

In the hopes that we can get some of that staying power.
I think Special ability, because we are special people, and Mirror wave. A really nice trick up our sleeve.

Enhanced healing. This is just stupid good.

Calamitous impact, 200% brutal

>Orochalcum shield
Team player

Horned demon

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>Mirror Wave

>Enhanced Healing

>Breaker Rush

>Orochalcum Shield

>Horned Demon
>Shape-changing Demon

Eclipsed Moon Quest Episode 161
Sheets and Info: pastebin.com/u/phantomcrossing
Twitter Account: https://twitter.com/Artemis_QM
Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Eclipsed+moon

Quest Intro

You are Mikage Chiba, a second year high school student, fifteen years old. You used to be the third woman to be the magical guardian of love & justice Sailor Moon, after your mother and older sister. A year and a half ago you had a traumatic experience fighting the corpse of your best friend’s dad, the struggle leaving you thinking you had killed the man you had set out to save and prompting you to abandon everything. More than that, the related emotional collapse lead you to abandoning yourself. Hiding the events as best you could then developing disguises and personas to inhabit and do the things you would not let yourself do, to live while you let yourself wither.

Now you know the truth and have been taking measures to put yourself back together, reconnect with family you shunned, old friends, and new ones. More than that, you've been doing your best to support your younger sister, Sailor New Moon.

Quest Start

You sleep perhaps a bit exhausted from a trying day and fall into your dreams. Though doing so with attempted lucidity you drift and turn to and fro. Last time you went to the dream of Elysium it was because Usa took you there and a way had been kept open by her practice and your shared intentions.

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I'm half-expecting her to already be corrupted.
Saori scrambles about the room and collects a number of disc cases both in clear plastic and collectors steel boxes and spreads them between the two of you, brow furrowed in concentration. With a nod between the two of you you begin debating the merits of each.

“No, that is the absolute deep end,” you consider about a direct to video release project Saori presents that you vaguely want to express an interest in later...though perhaps a different part of you.

“Fair, if that’s too far then what about the opposite end of the spectrum?” she questions sliding the disc away and presenting perhaps the tamest and most wholesome Otome style game to exist in the world, that is granted a few years old and has probably been in her collection since she was a kid.

“Oh, I remember playing that when I was little,” Akiyama observes and plucks it up out of Saori’s hands, “Wow, this is still in such good condition, and the booklet insert isn’t frayed or faded,”

“Yeah...too mainstream for our purposes,” you muse to yourself.

“Of course not...okay so you’ve played a game in the style,” she considers and pushes a few shows out of the way and to the side.

Saori Umeki is concentrated for a moment, seeking a balance between the two. Something that might hold Yukiko Akiyama’s attention and, as decided in a quiet telepathic back and forth between the two of you, would be slow burn toward more risque and extreme concepts on the back end.

“Okay, this one is about Demon Hunters and Huntresses during the Meiji Restoration amid international intrigue and a heavy handed narrative of both the benefit and the cost of the influx of foreign ideas and ideals into a society trying to be seen as a peer to the western powers,” Saori unfolds on of the steel collectors sets, “It’s got a hybrid otome rpg or the main route anime adaptation,”

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Amid the opening cinematic as Saori pulls the controller into her hands, Yukiko Akiyama begins brushing her hair.

Time rolls on. Decisions are made. Characters are emotionally invested in. A mid boss fight is flubbed twice in a row. And, as relationship scores hit certain apexes and the game begins its slow turn into something steamy. You wait for the shocked reaction very bemused.

Only, it doesn’t quite come whence the cusp of supertext explicit action turns.

“Hmmm...this is a tough decision, do we egg on their monstrous transformation and see what they do to us, appeal to their remaining sense of humanity, or just pounce them in the throws of this between state?” the fashion prodigy considers in an earnest if analytical way.

By this point the three of you have burned through most of the snacks, and it is a little past lunch time.

“That’s really the question. Be attacked. Be romantic. Or take initiative and agency,” Saori nods sagely, “This choice will change the entire tone of the route...though with outcomes based on previous choices...shit did we already give them a taste of our blood?!”

“Yes we did...you know classic romantic and horror literature has always made a big deal of marking vampires and their act of consumption as a metaphor for the taboos of sexuality in their time so I think if we panic and it eggs them into attacking us it might not be an end flag,” Akiyama finishes braiding some of Saori’s hair.

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“Oh, entirely. I’ll admit a fascination and curiosity about some of the other routes, the conflict between Dragons was particularly dashing,” she muses to herself, “Though if I’m to do a delve on my own it’ll need to be after my upcoming shows,”

What to do
>Be frustrated that you’re almost out of snacks
>needle Saori about what she meant by that laughter
>Back to this game full force, you’re invested and want to see where it goes
>Broach the topic of your fashion circle leader’s troubles to Akiyama
>j’accuse them both of being monsterfuckers and pack it in, you’ve much to do
>Steal a peak beneath Saori’s bed, turn about for when she took a look at your stash
>write in
>Broach the topic of your fashion circle leader’s troubles to Akiyama
Though avoid bringing her real name in without permission.
>Steal a peak beneath Saori’s bed, turn about for when she took a look at your stash
Ninja peek for future reference, don't have to derail conversation.

Put out feelers via text, see if we can pull more friends in to surprise Umeki's mother with being real, and to deliver more snacks.

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The ancients used to write “Here there be dragons” to represent the edge of the map, to signal the end of their known reality. And yet, what would happen if one were to reach said end of the map?

Take a map; any map will do. Proceed to plot a course to the edge of map…and then push further, until you find not just the edge of the map, but the edge of what the map represents.

Welcome to Galgareth, the City of the Wheel, last explored point on the map. Last safe harbor before the “here there be dragons”, like the ancients would say.

Except this time they would be right, for Galgareth is nowhere on the map, but instead lies on the Shore, the coastline of the Fading Sea, the outermost edge where established reality ends and the endless possibilities of the universe give birth to half-real, half-false ephemeral realities that fade away as soon as one leaves them behind.

Endless waves that break upon the strange shores on countless islands, and the only thing connecting a brave explorer to the mainland – a cable spun out of sea serpent twine, harder than cold steel, thicker than a man’s waist. To have it cut it’d mean to become “untethered”, to lose one’s very physical connection to the established reality of the Mainland, and to be doomed to become “faded”, like everything else that is not tethered to reality.

Many a brave explorer have been lost to the strange tides of the Fading Sea this way, for no matter the risks, there will always be brave fools willing to risk their lives in the name of riches and glory.

And riches are what the Fading Sea promises – the islands that dot its surface (and its underwater world) are each their own self-contained world, spawned by the endless churns of the half-formed realities that make up the Fading Sea. Each one could contain tens of thousands of years of history…that will fade away as if it had never existed the moment its link to reality (represented by the explorers and their ship) is cut due to their moving on in their journey.
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Dead quest again?
More than dead, I am simply having an extremely heavy week. It's not dead, so much as the QM is simply too exhausted to write after work. Thank the gods today I am working remotely.

So, writing.
Take your time mate.
No worries c.c
Also middle Management
*fuck middle Management, they gave me even more work with less budget x.x

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The grass is dewy and the morning breeze is cool as you break camp, just on the outskirts of your destination - the small frontier village of Lindow. Your band of vagabonds are busy preparing for the final day’s march into the small hamlet where the promise of soft beds and work awaits you (hopefully).

It’s been well over a fortnight since your band took on any significant work and, while morale isn’t necessarily low, the men are becoming restless and disillusioned with just how bountiful the frontier was meant to be. Your time here has been brief, to be sure, yet it hasn’t been as profitable as you’d hoped.

As the final day of travel consumes most of the daylight ahead of you, trudging your small band by farmsteads and fields of grain, it’s best you agree on a few things to begin with.

>> What is the name of your unit of mercenaries?

>> As commander of this unit, what is your name?

What weapons do your soldiers specialise in?

>> Swords and axes
>> Bows and crossbows
>> Spears and pikes
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>> “Very well, Ulseph. Tonight you offer us shelter and somewhere to sleep - tomorrow, we will begin an investigation. Whatever it is we conclude, you will honour the agreement - 50 golden krowns for our efforts.”
>> “Very well, Ulseph. Tonight you offer us shelter and somewhere to sleep - tomorrow, we will begin an investigation. Whatever it is we conclude, you will honour the agreement - 50 golden krowns for our efforts.”
>> “Very well, Ulseph. Tonight you offer us shelter and somewhere to sleep - tomorrow, we will begin an investigation. Whatever it is we conclude, you will honour the agreement - 50 golden krowns for our efforts.”
>>> “Very well, Ulseph. Tonight you offer us shelter and somewhere to sleep - tomorrow, we will begin an investigation. Whatever it is we conclude, you will honour the agreement - 50 golden krowns for our efforts.”
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(First time quest, feedback welcome. Let's have some fun.)

So, let's get started. You look a bit older than most people who call looking to go on a journey for the first time, but that's no problem.

Anyway, are you a boy or a girl?
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>Go in.
>Go in.
I doubt she has any ulterior motive.

Two days isn’t long enough to really get to know someone, but Fie doesn’t play games. She’s up-front about things. You’re only really hesitating for propriety’s sake.

You duck into her tent and find her laying on her front, minus her top. She’s got a small lamp hung from the roof providing light.

Her state of dress isn’t the most shocking part though:

It’s the tracery of wire-thin scars criss-crossing her back.

It looks like someone went to town with a cat-o-nine-tails.

Fie shifts and looks back at you.

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>>Just… surprised, is all.
>What happened?
What the hell is this?

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Last thread: >>4812644 , earlier : http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=vtm
Your name is Dyraxes - a childe of a vampire lord in the ancient ages of southeastern Europe. (The date would be ~340 BC)
You are of clan Tzimisce: One of the "high clans" of vampires, and unlike most of the other "high clans" your clan rule eastern Europe openly - Your inhuman nature is no secret. For what is a ruler that hides in sight?
You yourself are not that far up: You rule over a small village - enough to sustain you and a few ghouls, but it is no large space, and far from "prosperous"
However, the village has a strategic position. Just located north of a mountain pass, and it could prove important as a possible trade route from the south in the future.
The villagers live in respectable fear: they know you are their lord - and beyond human. However, they know you defend them from far worse things in the wild.
You have built a small outpost at the gap of the pass. You only recently sent two shepherds there to manage it, and it could be used as a great vantage point. You intend to teach one of them the art of commerce, so that he can at least ensure that proper trade comes to pass.

Your own "castle" is a small keep - the last year of reparations have brought it back to some semblance of glory.; you have a small study and an armory with spears to arm a handful of men. There is also a couple of cells for any prisoners. On top of the keep is a tower, enough to give you a crude vantage point, and a fair deal of range advantage for a few archers.

The primary feature of your domain apart from the forests you have loose control over, is a quarry you have managed to construct. The excavated stone is currently used to build roads in the village, but that project is only in it's infancy.

You have five ghouls in your service:
First and most important, the caretaker of the keep. He is the extension of your will during the day; talk with the villagers, keep the home in check and so on.
He is named Lovilav, Lovi for short. While he is not the sharpest, he knows the village well.

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damn nigga
Rolled 6, 8, 5, 3, 9, 5, 8 = 44 (7d10)

Holy shit. Really learned our lesson from last time.
on vacation with family untill tomorrow, so probably no updates
ah take care hope you have a good time

Far, far above a blissfully unaware planet, a misshapen ovoid of ferrous stone and hard packed ice drifts into an inescapable orbit. Picking up speed as it’s angle of approach becomes sharper and sharper, gravity greedily digging its claws in and dragging the astral debris from its eons long voyage between the stars. The atmospheric friction begins to heat and strip away the exterior of this cosmic traveler, a contrail of superheated gasses forming behind it as it screams down from on high. Faster and faster it travels, propelled by its own inertia and the merciless forces of gravity, the falling star leaves a trail of brilliant orange-white behind it as it streaks through the air with unmatched velocity, air resistance stripping it away but by bit. Moments later it slams into the earth with a explosive impact, leaving a smoldering crater several feet across.

All of the external layers had been peeled away with the fury of its descent and the nearly perfectly spherical remains of the meteor hiss and pop against the cool night air as the damp soil scorches from its touch. The rounded object is the yellowish white of old bone, smeared with scorch marks and the drifting dust that slowly drifts down. Pockmarked with small irregular divots, the object sits quietly in the freshly made crater, the night sky now free of any other interstellar visitors.

With a sudden loud *pop* a jagged crack splits the surface of the object, a viscous jellylike fluid seeping forth after several moments. The organism that, after several long minutes, oozes and sloshes its way from the hollow confines of its former home could not be confused with a denizen of the blue green orb it has landed upon. It’s body is a shapeless mass of highly viscous slime resembling nothing so much as a particularly large egg or amoeba. But you are a creature without parallel, an organism of unmatched evolutionary capabilities and most importantly…


>inspect your area, as best as you can with your limited senses

>Inspect yourself.

>return to the shelter of your pod
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Yep, mid term goal for me is human intelligence. We will have to get bigger, so we'll need camo to stay sneaky. Meat is good for brain development.;
Rolled 1 (1d2)

Sticky tentacles are the consensus, rolling for
1 - tougher skin
2 - stronger acids
While your thin outer membrane allows for easier absorption of prey from any direction, it is, ultimately, too weak to keep as is. You transform the biomass you've acquired into tissue, forming around yourself a thicker, tougher layer of skin, leaving a mouth hole leading into a proto-stomach. While it won't protect you from the teeth of some predators you've glimpsed during your travels, the bug bites, at least, will pose less danger to you now. You morph the remaining biomass into glands housed by your tentacles. These formations produce a sticky fluid, useful if you want to attach to something or eat the aforementioned bugs.

Speaking of bugs, after your evolutionary burst attacking the anthill poses no risk to you anymore. You roll right up to the little creatures' home and start fishing out the bugs from the holes. They begins frantically moving around, trying to sting you or push you away, but this only works to your advantage. They get stuck in your tentacle fluids and die en masse as you struggle to eat all this biomass.

After you've mostly cleared the anthill of its residents, you journey forth in an everlasting quest to sate your hunger. After wandering through the forest for a while, you happen upon a great stream of water. A mighty brown beast stands in the shallow parts of this river, sharply moving once in a while to catch a scaly creature, sometimes succeeding in its attempt and devouring the prey.
>Attempt to sneak up to the beast and crawl under its fur, perhaps it won't notice you
>Dive into the river and try to attach yourself to one of the scaly things
>Go after safer sources of food: climb the trees and plunder more bird nests
>Go after safer sources of food: find more anthills
The (space ?) bear is tempting, but it's a one-shot if we get spotted, and it could scrape us off if we latch on. Even with the spikes and skin, getting smashed against a tree is not pleasant.
No need to go downstream yet either. At least we know spearfishing will be available once we go up once or twice in size.

I say we keep roaming the forest, but try to spot both of the safe food sources.
I think we could just keep our ears peeled for birdlings, eyes for ant columns, but also scent. If we can smell a rotting carcass, we will also find bugs and ants to lead us back to their anthill, with any predator long gone.
>>Attempt to sneak up to the beast and crawl under its fur, perhaps it won't notice you

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>You Are Sláine In The Tomb of Terror (2000AD Progs 447-461)


Now that that's out of the way...

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>moving the thread after we'd already completed the story
/tg/, why do your mods suck so much?
I think it's becoming a problem that's all over 4chan. There's >>4903332 here, which seems more like concentrated autism then an actual quest, which has been up for nearly twelve days, and for some reason there's a thread on /d/ that's been up for two days that shows scat in the OP pic, despite it being against the rules.
Have you tried reporting these threads?
I've taken to using the feedback section of 4chan to basically "remind" the mods to do their damn job. It usually works, but until Moot 2.0 decides to get some mods/janitors who want to do their fucking job, then we're stuck with shit like this

I also like to remind people that mods don't give a damn unless they get 10+ reports. It's not announcing a report, just reminding people.

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You wake with a start on a bench in the middle of a well-kept walled garden. It's a beautiful sunny morning, and the light filters dutifully through the shade of the garden's trees.

"Where in God's good name am I," you think to yourself whilst shaking off your grogginess. "I went on a bender last night, sure, but why didn't the boys take me home?"

You sit up and look around, taking in the lush scenery until you see something that makes you do a double take. Sitting under a gently flowing waterfall is a creature in a suit. It looks almost like a person, save for the fact that it has the head of a fish.

"Hullo friend, and welcome to my garden!" said the fish-man in an almost bubbling accent, smiling as warmly as someone possibly could with fish lips.

"W-who are you," you stammer, sitting straight up on the bench and barely resisting the urge to bolt.

The waterfall wonder, saying nothing but grinning all the while, stands up and exits the pond beneath the waterfall. His clothes seem to dry as soon as they leave the water.

As he fishes (ba dum tssh) through his pockets looking for something, you notice the pisces-primate has a mullet. This sends you into a fit of laughter from the sheer absurdity of the situation.

The mullet-fish-man looks at you quizzically, shrugs with another smile, and keeps digging through his various pockets; Eventually, he takes out what appears to be a long tobacco pipe and a zip-lock baggie full of said tobacco, with a few matches inside to boot.

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Yeah, C.A.S.C. and associates will make sure everyone has the proper gear. Mole men are sticklers for workplace safety. The half-mole breached protocol touching colorless objects without proper PPE. His quoted reason for doing so according to the Molennium Post:

"My outer gloves had lost almost all their color, yeah, and I didn't want it to start seeping into me! So, I took them off and walked back to replace them. No big deal, yeah? But before I made it back to the supply station, I tripped and fell. I caught myself with my hands on the floor of the cavern, and it turns out I had a hole in one o' my inner gloves. I thought I was a goner when I felt that cold rock, but suddenly I was turning it into the brightest rainbow I've ever seen! I feel so lucky I'm still Colored that I'm gonna go buy a lottery ticket!"

Consider that a gift of side lore for me posting late on the 13th/14th.
Writing main story now!
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It takes only a moment for you to decide. What reasonable man would turn down a low-stakes opportunity to save the world?

"I'll take the job, Mr. Mullet," you say as you hand his manilla folder back to him.

Mr. Mullet beams widely, though the distinct lack of human teeth makes his massive grin appear like an attempt to swallow you whole.

"Welcome aboard Anon! Together with the rest of C.A.S.C., you'll do great work!" Mr. Mullet shakes your hand ecstatically, and you gladly return the favor.

Just like that, you're hired as an official member of the Color Aptitude Survey Corps. It's not the flashiest of names, but it has an almost expeditionary ring to it that makes you excited. Before you get too adventurous though, it's time for lunch. You haven't eaten since yesterday, and you're pretty sure you barfed up half of that into a toilet somewhere back in the States.

"Now that this surprise interview is over, I'd like to take you up on your offer for lunch. I've always wanted to visit a British pub!" you say happily.

"Gladly, Anon! Just let me put on my suit," said Mr. Mullet.

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>How does this "anti-color" spread? If it's by touch, couldn't we simply seal the place off and hope for it not to spread again?
Oh I can answer that one for you right now anon, Mr. Mullet explained it himself in >>4916279. The pallid "anti-color" infects the very bedrock itself and spreads through it from the origin tear in all directions. It's an expanding sphere of infected material. Reburying the tear doesn't do shit, encasing it in handwavium doesn't work. Good 'ol fashioned sweat-inducing color magic is the only thing they know that re-adds color, and that shit happened on accident.

Research into other avenues of control are of course still ongoing. How do you think they managed to get balls made of colorless material that don't infect everything around them to test human color aptitude with? I won't tell you, but you can guess or ask Mr. Mullet/associates.
>What other magic is available to the beastmen? Is it possible to learn it?

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>30 May 1431. Rouen’s Old Market.

It’s 12 PM. The flames are all-enveloping as an outline of the human form slowly vanishes. The heretic girl head is stubbornly held high until the smoke got to her as the first licks of the fire reached her leggings. The crowd and guards stare at the tall pillar with growing anxiety as it peaks, then proper terror sets in as the scantly impossible becomes exponentially more prominent among to backthoughts of those with eagle eyes amongst the soldiery surrounding the body who are able to see into the fire best. The body of the teenager is still there slumped over and tied to the pillar...visible only as a girl-shaped outline...but one unusually intact. That the outlines of hair being present being the thing to truly put apprehension in them all. There was common knowledge among all present of the ways these burning executions were expected to go, that the girl in the fire should have been well on the way to being scattered to ash. Rouen's gathered public sense the tension on the backs of the soldiers beyond their picket line and were turning more rabid by the second while the now receding fire made the Judge Jean sensing the onset of chaos overrules the normal proceedings of the trial's execution. Ordering for an additional five shafts of wood to be throw on the pyre between the witch's body and the viewing area to better ease the crowd until the corpse might crumbles to dust. The judge Jean d’Espivet, fearing a possible riot orders for the extension of the execution. Better to extend the fire then risk an uproar of tempers in the already mixed crowds.
"The corpse has entered a state of being turned rigid. That is why the body remains upright!" He cries out reassuring the agitated mob.

A soldier among the execution procedings Goeffroy Thérage is handed two long planks of wood with which to stack on the pyre. He gets up closer to the inferno, with one arm holding the work and the other arm's padded armour raised to block the wave of sweltering heat. The man's line of vision open for an instant and he is taken aback like he'd been struck. Dropping to his knees and crossing himself frantically he gazes into the virgin girl's face. It's smooth outline still in intact. She moves, the face in the fare was looking back at him.

"Shadrach!" He screams, "Water! God's bones she's *alive in there!" His hand dives into the fire violently knocking away many pieces to the side. burning debris falling over him. "Water!"
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Get indoors. Start messing about with your newfound fireproofness. Need to know if this is a consistent change or a brief (but welcome) miracle. Give thanks to God and his Angels either way.

>Who's Loiseleur
Nicholas Loiseleur, a guy who was at her Trial, who may have been the one to say she was committing Heresy by wearing men's clothing. Or defended said wearing of men's clothing by insisting that someone would try to rape her if she was put in a dress.
We will say we need some time for prayer with god alone. So we can be in private and test our body.

Use the polearm the guard has gifted us and see if we are battle ready or if we still feel old wounds. At the end give a prayer to god, and rally our companions for council.

and support this too
qm it might be a good idea if you have a name or a trip

We are the voice in her head not Joan herself. Are we going to whisper >"check if your invulnerable bro" to her? Wouldnt that just confuse her since we are supposed to be a Devine voice?

Tell her to flee the city and return to her men as soon as she is able. There is no reason for anyone high up to believe she actually survived an inferno unless they see it with their own eyes and the priests could just think she is a witch and used magic to save herself.

The entire point of these kind of trials was: prove you're a witch by using magic to escape or die a christans death
As it stands, the populace of Rouen is with us. I genuinely believe we could flip the town for France if we play it right.
Beyond that I agree with the others. Get to the halls and test out her new abilities before meeting with the leaders.

>Step 1: Complete.

>Step 2: In progress. Meet Loiseleur then the leaders at the halls. In the meantime, spend some time alone, in prayer and in discovering more precisely what has been gifted to you.

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You are the Courier, a human force of nature. It has been over six months when you seized the throne of New Vegas from the Bear and the Bull. Since then, you’ve brought peace to the region, created an entire agriculture industry and have the beginnings of a highly-trained military. What's more, you've fought off NCR President Kimball's efforts to puppet you, exacting a great diplomatic victory.

Though all is not well, there is an impossibly large horde of ghouls bearing down on the region and a powerful mystery faction with spies throughout your region. Your nation faces its greatest threat yet, will the Courier be able to guide the ship through the darkness?

Previous threads
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Say I've had an idea. How good are the guidance systems and range on those big-ass missiles we got hold of? If we end up at war with the Legion somehow, could we send one to blast Caesar out of bed?
We do have to keep some caps for other stuff. I mean assuming we want to replace the farms that's at least 35,000 (assuming we can salvage 50% of prior investment - might be a complete writeoff).

>We're havin' to tighten our belts and want to know what you're gonna be doing to bring people back in.
I mean my solution is to push our borders away from Vegas, construct defensive hard points, expand our military and create new entertainments. Improved security and enticing facilities should suffice.

In terms of "long term" if The Legion starts pushing the NCR that hard I imagine we'd start helping the NCR. Simple fact being that we aren't in a position to not both for economic and military reasons (NCR might kill us - Legion will kill us).

Also >>4931421; zeppelins / aircraft are a option as well but realistically if we can secure northern expansion that'll result in the creation of alternative border-crossing points with the NCR which'll reduce the importance of the existing ones since they'll be just one of many rather than one of a few.

>And where would we get the helium/gas
Hydrogen can be produced from water easily using application of electricity and is a good lift gas.

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Ethanol or power Cores

Survivalist said the missiles are primed and ready. We could probably hit them right now if we wanted to.
Can we scavange the vaults for Pip boys? Will pip boys have a statistical benifit to certain rolls?
If you all can't be convinced to helped good springs, then might I suggest changing the Industrial action into something more specific? Where are you going to find the tools materials, and personnel to make these weapons and ammunition? Shouldn't we account for all of those first? We would need weapons smiths to produce the goods, and know the locations of the specific mines to mine for copper, zinc, and lead to make bullets?
Perhaps the industrial action would be better put to use improving the Freeside administration building so we can further define everyone's files (birth, age, gender, blood type, previous occupations, current occupations, injuries, illnesses, etc). There are tens of thousands of people in Feeside, and there is bound to be some 'down on their luck' people who can fulfill some of the things we need them to do. Maybe there's a junkie that was an ex-engineer from NCR territory.

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Give suggestions on how the story should continue..

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The student council president really tears into og Bad Kitty and makes it clear why she was a bad rolemodel
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part 223
The aggression that led to detention resolves in sexual tension.
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part 224
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part 225

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**Game 5 of Nations Role Play GMed by Lux**

>The Feast of Big Totem
The colossus of Big Boss is seen even beyond the mountains, rising into the clouds. This horror is soon followed by another, a rain of bloody flesh. Every nation suffers the will of Big Totem in their own way. All over Syph the feral savages are converted, struck with a sapience from their devourment, a spark of divinity behind the eyes. It had come at cost as large as its herald, for perhaps only a fifth of this new breed of Goblin survives the Feast of Big Totem.

>Cathedral of the Old Sun
Pandemonium befalls the worship hall. Congregants both Syphian and Totemic fall to animalism. When the madness passes, lamentations fill the air, wails of grief and damnation.

The majority of Simfuni lands sees only a spattering of bloody rain, but the Great Canal, so infested with river Goblins, is hit hard. Even into New Venezia there is a brief, but explosive, chaos. Instruments of every nation are frenzied, even little calves are afflicted. They battle over the chunks about them, causing a terrible dissonance within the Great Melody.

Their lands free of the Goblin menace, the Yadi experiences the awful hail of fleshy gobbets without much effect upon them but a disgusting temptation to taste it.

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(Added fluff)
Benmi was angrily walking around punching whatever came close to him while Beni was just sprawled on the ground rubbing his poor broken nose. He didn't think Benmi would this angry; he always wanted to be King so what happened? Then again Benmi was a complete daddy's boy so he probably thought he abandoned him. Poor kid. Beni picks himself up off the ground while ignoring the sexy monsters trying to get his attention. His son needs him! Plus, he's scaring off his orgy partners.

(Added fluff to action 1.)
The researchers conducted many experiments to see what could guide the flow of electricity and how can they create it as well? Metal was obvious, but which type? They used many types though most were poor until they used copper. They noticed electricity follows the path made of copper more closely and ordering than other metals. To create electricity was the more difficult part of the experiments. Oni know you need energy to create static and that static needs to jump to something metal or living. They came to this conclusion since whenever they dry clothing in a tumbler, they get all charged up and get shocked when touching something metal or another person. Or when a lightning is about to strike, their hair stand up pointing to the sky. During the thunderstorms, they gather data detailing different levels of impurities and different types of acid could conduct electricity.
Fluff: The Paskians grow ever more industrious, and refuse all overtures of unity and cooperation. Re-arm the traps along the borders, keep the visible types along the outskirts but arm truly deadly and hidden ones for those who ignore the warning, choosing to press deeper in the darkness. For the foreseeable future, Paskians are no longer welcome in Dakan Grove, or in any other Do'laroshan land, and will be warned as such should they choose to trespass without cause.

Action 1 - Fortification techniques.
Truly, it was the Fraternians who came up with the majority of the ideas, but it was left to the more widespread Shadowfolk to enact the measures. Across the lands of the Entente, forts would be 'upgraded' with a slew of anti-siege techniques, specifically set to counter the prodigious capabilities of the Co-operative forces. Of note, the ground underneath and around the forts is dug up, a thick lining of sulfur placed along the bottom to deter the smell-oriented moles before being filled in again. To further discourage their early attacks, metallic plates with long spikes of either metal or wood are used as flagstones, their points reaching into the earth to harm any who may try to dig up from beneath.

Action 2 - Extract Do'laroshans from the Quarry.
With infiltration growing more and more difficult by the day, extraction of all the Do'laroshans must be accomplished. Of course, this venture must yield fruit, so before they sneak away in the night, they go looking for treasure.
Their first priority is information, the layout of the quarry, it's walls, patrols, and if possible, the inside of the forts. When no more scouting can be done, they will gather as much Blackstone as possible and scale the walls, heading for home.
Action 1: Implement ballistae as part of the defenses of Kalport.
The ballista is not a new concept for the Fraternian people, our arbalists armed with the finest crossbows that the crown can produce speak to that, but we have not built them as the Dryad have this will now change and the first of the Fraternian Ballista’s will be placed in defense of kalport and her dockyards.

Action 2: increase the Fortifications of Kalport
As the war expands the need for defenses on land and sea for our southern island become ever more clear, while we have taken some precautions on the island to protect our port and landholding, but even more is needed, we must be ready to throw the enemy back into the sea or back from our walls, we will never give in willingly, we will Defend our homes to the last!

War post, Dryad Intelligence needs work

while we pulled back to protect our trade lanes that by no means meant our holdings and trade lines in Kalport were left open, we simply stopped attacking them, when the try dryad began mobilizing from the port on their smaller island holding we saw it, when they started mobilizing on the north side of the island we saw it, and when they send fleets at us from the mega ports of there we were it, and were were ready, local naval forces based out of Kalport, fought delaying actions and holding attacks to force the enemy to earn every nautical mile of the sea from us until they were fully committed to the attack on kalports Harbor, then they would pull back and help hold in the port, to the last ship, and man, all stops were pulled out every trick in the Fraternian mages book used nothing is held back, this would not be the day a Fraternian city falls. The delaying and holding actions were not for nothing they were to buy time for the newly improved defenses of Kalport and her harbor to be given one final inspection and for the local reserves to be called up and defenses man, soon the Fraternians would find out how the dryad liked Fraternian Balista bolts and catapult rounds.

I should go without saying, but every magic spell in my arsenal is being used from restful sleep, to life force transfer to the bolt family of spells, also we are taking no prisoners that make it to the port proper, they are drained and killed for their life force. if need we will sacrifice one of the Farms on the island if it means keeping the magic flowing.

see the pic [I have no idea where Bandru'ii got the idea that the naval position looked like how he made them, but this is the real positions, I pulled back to protecting my trade lanes and ports, those include the south ones, I simply stopped attacking his, this can be seen in last turns war post. the second half of my war post to come soon]
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this is me
Battle at the landing grounds
while the local naval assets normally at Kalport fought in this desperate defense, the rest of the fraternian navy and northern and homeland reserves prepared to activate the fraternian counter stroke, while the Crown had always wanted to contain the war to the quarry, it would seem the dryad had other ideas. After the whales attempt at placing a fort on the Fraternland coast it was clear a contingency plan needed to be made, as such Operation Sideswipe was created, should the Dryad commit to a full-scale assault on The Island holding of the Crown then the local naval forces were to force them to fully commit their naval assets to the cause while the rest and the reserve military forces were to in act an invasion of the Dryad homeland with all Dryad naval assets engaged in the Battle of Kalport nothing would stop them from sailing to and land our forces on their land.

Once landed All military assets would be given the green light to Conquer the enemy taking Life force from those that resisted and refused to surrender, The Fraternian people would not go quietly into the night!

also we bolt and drain the hell out of any living plants that the dryad try to use against us.

Any ship flying an unknown flag, or none at all, will be inspected. This is standard procedure, but important to note. Naturally, should a ship be detected and clearly be manned by the Fanw Forsaken savages, it is to be dealt with via broadside and superior speed and maneuverability until the ship slips under the waves, after which the ship will leave any surviving crew to it's fate. However, if by chance the captured Dybet Flagship is sighted, it is to be reported and a large naval force sent in to capture the vessel. Ideally usage of cannon will be quite useful in clearing the decks via grapeshot, and the internal area's can be cleared by a mix of Coeden Fwyell and a few Meistri Rhyfel.

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You are Charlotte Fawkins, noted heiress, detective, adventuress, and heroine, cruelly trapped underwater (in the sticks!) after the completion of your quest to find your long-lost family heirloom. Tragically, nobody here l̶i̶k̶e̶s̶ ̶y̶o̶u appreciates your talents, even Richard— the snake who lives in your head. Right now, you've just been wished good luck in the tournament you've voluntarily(?) entered yourself into.

"Won't need it," you say reflexively. Your attention is trained on the piece of paper the receptionist handed you. "...Um, did the order just get shuffled? I thought the other bracket was a mirror of— Nettie? Did you—"

But you look and Nettie isn't there, and Ellery isn't either, and you look back and there's no paper in your hand. You glance up at the receptionist and are pleased to discover it still in place, though its desk is crumpling up, and its surroundings are— are there surroundings? Were there ever? It's just pure splitting white—cold white—snow (of course snow)—the whole arena, despite being enclosed, is lined with it. Your sword and armor gleam in the reflected light, which you hope is harming your opponent's vision: you need every advantage you can get, as this terrain is disastrous for you. Not only does it slow your (already sluggish) movement, but it's perfectly suited for your opponent, the recep— one of those white-furred creatures. You've already forgotten whatever name the announce called out. Something barbaric, you're sure. Regardless, its fur blends in with the snow, and for all its bulk it scampers easily across it. The rat bastard.

It's armed with something primitive—an axe, maybe, or a club. Possibly it had a net. It's out of sight at the moment: you and it are on opposite sides of the arena, and a heap of snow double your height divides you. You adjust one strap of your knapsack and grip the hilt of The Sword tightly.

"[FIGHT]!" the announcer screams.

>As a reminder, as I'm on a relatively tight schedule this thread, fights without narrative importance are being condensed to a roll or two!

>[1] Do you have any particular plan or strategy? (Write-in. Optional. This will provide modifiers to the roll. You are capable of weird stuff, though it may or may not require an additional roll to accomplish.)
>Please roll me 3 1d100s vs. DC ???. DC and modifiers will be revealed when vote is called.
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She tosses her head. How are you meant to interpret that? If there wasn't something conscious in there before, you're pretty sure there is now, but that's not actually any help. You clear your throat. "...I-If you need help, um... you know what, I'll just, uh..." If she did need help, there's no way she'd tell you. Tentatively, you reach out a hand toward her enormous head: she doesn't bite your fingers off, which you take as tacit agreement. Rather than touch her head, though (too... personal), you aim for the neck. Her scales are pearly smooth. "...Actually, I-I'm not sure, if this'll, uh— oh!"

Blue light streaks down your arm; blue light engulfs Charlotte.


You are Charlotte Fawkins, and Gil is about a foot from your face, one cold hand on your neck. You slap it away and stumble backwards. "What the hell!"

"I-I-I-I—" he says, and stumbles back in turn, still babbling incoherently. You're wiping the blood from your cheek and staring behind him, past all the weird stone spikes, past the... corpses: the king really is motionless on its throne. So he wasn't lying! He- he- he what, he talked it to death? What the hell kind of climax is that?! You were— you were supposed to— admittedly your mind's a little fuzzy at the moment, but you're sure you were in fact the Demon Queen, so— where's your epic battle?! Your clash of titans?! Is this stupid manse this poorly made?!

>[A1] Well, fine! March on over there and put The Sword through its heart. Will it be satisfying? No. Not at all. But you deserve it.
>[A2] ...Well, maybe you can claim this was supposed to happen. Drag it with you alive to the Horse-shod, and then execute it in front of that thing with a lot of pomp and grandeur. That'll make you feel better.
>[A3] Write-in.

>[B1] Chew out Gil for ruining this for you. Richard isn't here, and you think Ellery got shot (again), so there's only one person whose fault it could be.

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>[A2] ...Well, maybe you can claim this was supposed to happen. Drag it with you alive to the Horse-shod, and then execute it in front of that thing with a lot of pomp and grandeur. That'll make you feel better.
>[B3] ...Maybe possibly it was an okay thing that he took it out. Even if it was in a boring and lame way. Express a little gratitude (but not too much, lest it go to his head).


We are pretty torn up from that boss rush
is Nettie even salvagable
>[A2] ...Well, maybe you can claim this was supposed to happen. Drag it with you alive to the Horse-shod, and then execute it in front of that thing with a lot of pomp and grandeur. That'll make you feel better.
Even more climactic.
>[B3] ...Maybe possibly it was an okay thing that he took it out. Even if it was in a boring and lame way. Express a little gratitude (but not too much, lest it go to his head).
Gil is the closest thing to a manservant we have, we have to make him feel like he's getting /something/ out of the arrangement, even if it is Charlotte's gratitude.
>A2, B3

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"A-Alarm! Sound the alarm! Alert every guard! Intruders broke into the Holy-"

The first guy who speaks up gets the faceplate of his helmet punched into his face as you pounce on him. Your friends don't need much more encouragement than that and begin swinging as well signaling the start of the raid. Though it's little more than a street brawl right now it is sure to escalate into something much bigger. The thunderous sound of metal striking metal rings around the square as Murray swings his mighty anchor around and knocks over entire swaths of soldiers. Another contingent find themselves incapable of moving as the segmented pieces of their armor get joined together and locked in place by magically sprouting fish hook. They then get to watch as their friends get stuck to walls and hung upside down by sticky threads of spider silk. And finally the last batch of guards charge the one isolated pirate only for her body to break down into tiny shards of glass and reform into a complete whole behind them. Before they could even turn around their iron armor mysteriously splits open and blood gushes out from the wound.

"H-How dare you resist?! Put down your weapons immediately and submit to the judgement of the gods!"

You end up dropkicking the guy and making him topple the few still standing guards like bowling pins.
"No. Well it looks like that's a wrap guys!"
Just as you finish that sentence you start hearing loud sirens echoing throughout not just the city but seemingly the entire Red Line itself.
"Aw poop. Looks like they alerted the others!"

"Then we better get moving! We're in the heart of enemy territory. Getting surrounded here would be bad."

"Yeah you're right Angel! Now let's see-"

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This quest does not take place in the West Blue and it has no dogs; literally unplayable.
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Nah I was just miffed. Big monster and all. Got a bit excited

No in reality I reached my time limit. Been running for 6 hours at that point. And again, I'd rather cut something off before it begins rather than cutting the conversation itself in half
Who needs dogs when Silver is drowning in bitches?
This post was made by Reanu Keeves.
Well, now you've done the foreshadowing and so narratively speaking if it ambushed us on our away from Fishman Island it'd make perfect sense. You did warn us after all

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