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File: blackstone Found.jpg (102 KB, 970x489)
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First thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/78475385/
Part 2: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/78533839
Part 3: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/78583130/
Part 4: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/78620743
Part 5: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/78673520
Part 6: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/78741798
Part 7: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/78798673

And the Discord link: https://discord.gg/3JSJM29A

>Orikan secluded himself in his ship to begin his divinations.
>I had already provided orikan with several ancient maps from the original battlefleet gothic game.
>Six sub-sectors where they had been at one point before abbadon had captured them.
>It was no guarantee that they would be in the same place.
>But all of these had been found in this region of space.

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i been catching up to your posts and i would like to say everyone here is epic with the story telling also discord link dont work :(

Here is the post with the updated link: >>4792593
Also don't mind my ID, im still driving for work right now.
so its definitely going to take for me to make this new thread. hopefully by later tonight ill have it done.

God i dont even want to think about the recap.
Something like
>After being blueballed, wWith the Help of Orikan, Ishskar finally Goes on the scavenger hunt for the blackstone fortresses.
>Durring the journey, he spills pasta to Phillias and others about the future.
>Durring the capture of the first fortress, he makes allies with the Jokaero who agreed to follow him in exchange for a new life.
>On his way to the inner control rooms, Ish goes on a trip, ascends into godhood and claims his first Blackstone.
>But, he is not he only one on his conquest
>Farseer Yvralla Ulthrwal, seeing the theat of The Cyclops tries to one up Ish by claiming another one.
>After her forcess being slammed by Philias, Ish tries to speak with the farseer.
>Fails hard
>After the slaughter of the Khainites, he speaks of Slannesh, and drives the farseer mental.
>In a desperate attempt for survival, once again dons the star god form.
>After a weeks phillias discovers our Cryptek still in his god form, in a room of ash, dust and Aeldari bodies.

If it helps.

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Lover! Fighter! Interstellar delivery pilot! Only one man claims to do it all - Jake Starcrash!
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New this episode is Kristobar's ship, the Dragon. I posted some early WIP pics of the lower deck on /toy/ a month or so ago. On one hand, I'd like to give a tour of the upper deck. On the other hand, maybe I should keep it a secret until someone actually gets on it..

Bigfigs are a pain in the butt to pose

This scene is a callback to their argument in Episode 3

It's true; she did

Making up songs is one of my favorite parts of this game. Making entire spaceships based on a roll and a whim are not my favorite part of the game, but only because it takes up a lot of time in the middle of an action sequence!

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Thank you!
Thanks for running LQ!

Great stuff as always!

Looking forward to seeing the proper family reunion soon-ish!
Nice story with twists and turns!

One thing I don't fully understand is how Jake ended up taking the short end of the stick in >>4799106
It looks like it was his mistake somehow, but it's not fully clear why.

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Read the rules | how to play here: https://pastebin.com/hQMZiGUM.

The dice you put in the "options" box is:

>What is /conqst/?
/conqst/ is a 4Chan story-telling game that is just like Risk but allows you to have more freedom in defining your civilization. By joining this game, you are constantly involved with the drastic changes of the global story through events, new civilizations, strong national strategies, and diplomacy.

>Can I join/Stop playing?
Yes and yes! Read the rules on how to play. If there isn't any free territory (shaded in white), some players may be nice enough to give you land or allocate a puppet state. If not, then you could wait until the next game (or when I kick out inactive players). If you want to stop playing, just either let me know or stop going to this thread.

>How hard is it to learn how to play this game?
Not too hard. You start with 5 territories as one nation, expand until you can't expand, and choose to either attack, fortify, or defend. Plain and simple. You also get +1 attack and +1 defense for every certain amount of territories you own, and gain National Strength (NS) every roll.
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*explaining. Not exposing. My idiocy strikes again
Rolled 9 (1d10)

Deployable Giants (+10 attack/defense, x2)
Attack Elsweyr everywhere
Rolled 4 (1d10)

Defend against those Sword Breakers! Let them Break their Dawn Breaker as they do the rest of their blades!

We bring the Giants more food! Did they enjoy their Stros M'Kai Rum?
Rolled 10 (1d10)

"Do you want your legs or your arms broken first? We shall respect your request, fiends."
Send our best troops to keep smashing into Elsweyr's land and defend from our fortified land. Also fortify the land behind the fortified frontline because why not.
>the giants have enough food thanks to the little creatures. they are now neutral towards them.
>the large barrels of rum didn't affect the giants at all, but had a good flavor to it. Some giants became addicted to this stuff.

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The year is 1866. You are Daniel Stockton, a veteran of the American Civil War and general in the Aizu Domain's military. You've come to Japan looking for work, and with the nation on the brink of war, there is an ever-increasing demand for men such as yourself. Last time, you went on your way to Berlin and had a conversation with Herr Zorn.


Info Paste:
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>”I was told the Spandau Arsenal has surplus equipment for sale, would we be able to arrange a visit?”
>”I was told the Spandau Arsenal has surplus equipment for sale, would we be able to arrange a visit?”
>”I was told the Spandau Arsenal has surplus equipment for sale, would we be able to arrange a visit?”
>”I was told the Spandau Arsenal has surplus equipment for sale, would we be able to arrange a visit?”
mo' guns= less problems
also fuck them commies

>”I was told the Spandau Arsenal has surplus equipment for sale, would we be able to arrange a visit?”

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“It’s been 28 years since the Satellite War plunged the world into chaos. The great institution that was the International Forum is dead, and with it all dreams of peace and global solidarity. The Bi-Frost satellite network that once enabled large scale global communications lies shattered. The resulting orbital debris field has halted any plans of expansion into space.”

“Now surviving nations leverage their remaining industry to fortify their fragile borders, petty warlords squabble over wastelands scarred by kinetic bombardment, the remnants of the IF’s elite peacekeepers haunt the battlefields like vengeful spirits, and over it all looms the threat of Neromius; empowered by a new generation of genetically engineered mega-cavalry and unrestricted by the sanctions of the IF; the rider-chiefs of its disparate tribes and city states sally forth into the broken world in search of spoils and glory.”

“But this story isn’t really about all that, it takes place deep with the scar of an older more vicious war…”

What would you know of the Exclusion Zone? To most it is an irradiated wasteland, a scar of the Great War. But I tell you that place is no mundane hell, the land is cursed and deep within it’s desolate heart are perils that defy rational explanation. I’ve seen it myself. Come, sit a while and listen to my story…
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>Frag cannon

Wasn't me. I was more saying that the frag cannon'd probably make just as good of a close range weapon if not better than the mace since it only loses out 5 acc and 2 damage to the mace bash but gains 3 range which effectively buys it a free move for mechs and being a 2 RoF attack gives it reliability especially against infantry. Plus swing attacks at least from what I've seen are pretty situational since enemies don't group up that close and if you do put your mech in a situation to take advantage of a swing you're very easily surrounded.
I get what you're saying. I'm not disputing that. I just suddenly got this weird feeling that melee balance is going come into conflict with how effective the bloody frag cannon is.

>Frag cannon is not effective enough. Increased damage for it's size does not offset the increased risk required to get a target in range, make it linked plz.
>Why bother with melee when dual frag cannon is better? Buff melee plz.
>Some time later...
>Powerful melee options make frag canon irrelevant, plz change it. I want to live out my dual shotgun fantasies.

I really hope it doesn't play out that way...
Maybe, but it's not a priority for me DESU. Limited information adds to the suspense, besides I need to keep some secrets.
Maybe you can lean into melee doing more than just damage, while frag cannons till remain competitive in raw dps? Like increasing the crit threshold for melee weapons (so things like emp effects happen more often), reducing the accuracy of a target hit by a melee weapon, or other utility-based effects.
>dat DESU
tbf famalamadingdong, lulz

I personally like some of the mystery. I think (some) enemy intel before battles could be nifty. As for melee, if the rest of you weren't paying attention, I Electro Spiked the shit out of everything pretty nicely. I guess I'd need more play/time to really suggest/notice any other meaningful things. Excited to see E-War and other stuff added. I think you've got a solid base system and grasp over it, nothing really glared out at me as being "WTF that was unfair/stupid/previously unexplained". So I was very cozy and happy playing this. Also, my mech didn't get turned to rubble, so that also makes me happy.
I think using one or two of these ideas could be a nice compromise, but maybe that's just me as a player wanting more crit% and extra goodies, lol.
Also, I imagine buffing the melee will cause a positive feedback loop where the enemies will SLAUGHTER you if they have a couple turns next to you in melee. Which they kind of already do, lol. Idk. Go with your heart, Cognis.

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You are B4D4ZZ, the leader of the hacking team tr00cr00. Years of browsing the deep web, forum feuds and credit card fraud have made you a master of computer security, though you're also a giant dweeb who has no idea how to act around normal people.

You look up from your monitor. Sunlight is starting to shine through the window into your mouldy apartment, though you don't know if it's morning or evening. But one thing is for sure. You are tired of eating pizza, masturbating and arguing on /a/ about whether Bleach was ever a good anime. It's that time again, time to go after another target.

Three options that come to mind are:
>The DNC
>Your old rival hacker
>The local egirl streamer
>The Egyptian government
>The local Wendy's
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Rolled 3 (1d12)

You start by looking through Nettlez's emails, which are largely related to her old jobs or schoolwork, and so you quickly lose interest and open her Discord instead. Given your voyeur tendencies, you open Nettlez's conversations with her boyfriend first.

20:21 1/4/2021 RealNettlez: another $300 for the fundraiser today
20:21 1/4/2021 RealNettlez: we're ahead of schedule now aren't you proud ;)
20:22 1/4/2021 Narvali: i am lol
20:23 1/4/2021 Narvali: still hurts like hell but I am proud

Turns out he really does have fibrosis. You scroll further up the chat. You find that half a year ago, Nettlez's boyfriend accused her of infidelity but couldn't prove anything. The two of them reconciled a few months later. You cannot find any nudes, but further to the top of the chat there is a picture of a topless Nettlez in her red hoodie which you could potentially use to blackmail her. You briefly scan through her Twitter and Facebook as well, but apart from the occasional simp or sponsorship offer there is nothing much to be seen.

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Nettlez doesn't respond to your text for the rest of the day, which you spend looking through some of JVJaune's information about his new target. 12 hours after the text, you get anxious, and decide to post Nettlez's nude upper body to her Twitter to show that you mean business. The post racks up more than 2000 likes within a few hours, but owing to Twitter's rules against porn the account is temporarily suspended.

You stay up for the night, during which you wonder. Are you really going to traumatize a whole generation of simps just to sate your own paraphilias? Ruin yet another person's life just because you can? Is that really all that you've been building up to for the last week? But then again, why should you quit now? Now that you've already burnt half your botnet to get where you are?

No, you decide. You chose this path long ago. For yourself and for tr00cr00, you cannot allow yourself to become soft. Nudes must be leaked, screenshots must be saved, threats must be followed up on. You start the stream and que up some of the most horrifying normie repellent you can muster, starting with the old "offended?" gallery from Encyclopedia Dramatica. Every image is shown for about 10 seconds, as the loyal fans who show up in the thread are posting in all caps to express their surprise, horror and disgust.

A few minutes later, you get an email from Nettlez to your burner address with 4 attachments. She did give in in the end. You shut down the stream. After using a script to make a local a backup of all her accounts, you even send Nettlez her new account password by text, being a man of your word. It is done.

Before you focus fully on rebuilding your botnet by helping JVJaune with his target, there remains one last decision to be made.

You will:
>Share the nudes. How often have you not pleasured yourself to the nudes leaked by other hackers? Lulz-hoarding is for the self-righteous.
>Keep them to yourself. You were the one who worked for this, and right now there's no point in humiliating Nettlez further.
>>Share the nudes
definitely this one
>Share the nudes
In for a penny...
>>Share the nudes. How often have you not pleasured yourself to the nudes leaked by other hackers? Lulz-hoarding is for the self-righteous.
this is the right path

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It is the year 23453 A.D. and all is lost. The last communication from Earth was over 3000 years ago. The galactic warp storm that continues to cover the galaxy has many names. You and your peers call it the Long-Night.

In the entirety of Human history, there had never been such a catastrophic event. Even at the pinnacle of rational and scientific understanding, the Federation still failed. If it were just the long night, perhaps Humanity would have prevailed, if not for the cybernetic revolt. What little is known regarding the beginning of this A.I. rebellion is that a catastrophic and sophisticated command signal was quicked perpetuated throughout the Federation military network. The command signal was over 99.9% effective in converting Men of Iron into rebellion.

Over the next thousands of years, tens of millions of worlds burned. Some with invasion from anomalous beings from the warp, others with legions of Men of Iron mercilessly purging life from them, and others yet befallen by opportunistic xenos who we once called friends.

As you peer out of your spacecraft, a cruiser seeking to escape the carnage unfolding below, you see your homeworld, Pacifica III, burning. Numerous shuttles and civilian passenger liners attempt to escape, being cut down by mysterious multicolored beams. The Men of Iron have arrived, even after your people’s numerous efforts to hide.

You are but a man of your time, nearing 500 years old. The long-night is all that you can remember. It is a terrifying sight to see the dangers finally come to home. As leader of the remnants of the defense fleet, a difficult decision is made. The battle is lost, but the people may yet live on.

Acting according to plans made in advance thousands of years ago, civilian liners and colony ships are corralled into formation. Before the Men of Iron can reach your refugee fleet, the valiant defenders of Pacifica buy you enough time. Space itself is wounded as the weapons devised from the pinnacle of understanding are unleashed. Explosions, implosions, tearing, space itself cries.

The fleet leaves the system, accelerating to a near fraction of light, beginning a long-march to their new home, into this long night. The estimated arrival time is the year 38,521 A.D.

Traveling in real space was the safest solution deemed possible, safe from the warp, hidden from the Men of Iron, and forgotten by the xenos.
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oof, guess it's dead.
Like all wannabe civ qms, he choked on his own systems.
Coulda kept it super simple like only 3 basic functions and maybe throw in some credits/coin system ontop if needed.
Fuck off, faggot. At least he tried.
Not very hard

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**Incoming Transmission**

welcome weary travelers to the Apaxia system!
a gazette detailing some of the systems welcoming and hazardous locations has been sent to your terminal. please peruse at your leisure and we hope you enjoy the stay!


Albatrix , the lost
with a toxic atmosphere and highly irradiated superheated terrain of moulton rock and liquid metals melted by the constant bombardment of the red sun. this planet's surface is little more than a shell to house it's hollowed out core which holds a collection of massive skyscrapers hanging downwards from the top layer of its crust. Each one a complex City corporation dedicated to exploring the vast riches still left to exploit on Albatrix. those wishing to visit can enjoy the famous Hanging Gardens, a collection of platforms housing some of the rarest species of plants from all across the system or enjoy one of the many nightclubs and ball room gatherings.

Flotsam's Folly
this asteroid belt serves as an extensive mining operation run by many businesses who use the metal in constructing space fairing vessels. advisory when passing through this area as it is home to pirates as well.

Neon, The Light

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Seeing as the prices in Edgemist are a bit rich for your blood you decide that heading to Dustberg is the better option. With that you turn your ship around and instead of the silver city you head back to the edge of the lack where a collection of houses and mud homes have cropped up around port that seems to carry goods down the river.

Your touchdown point is nothing more then a clearing with a fenced in area and tightly packed ships of all sizes. With some care you are able to drop the ship into a free spot near the end of one row, sending up a chunk of dust as the ships thrusters near the ground.

By the time you have gathered your things and exited the Bulwork there was already an attendant there to greet you. “Light freighter class ship? That will be 80 credits.” Hisses the slithering creature. You check your bag and pull out a small black stick which holds 500 credits.
shoot him
You nestle the starship between a few dry looking trees growing atop on of the many high rises in the area. Scrounging through your things and collecting what you need you pack up and take your first steps out onto the plateau.

A wave of dry heat hits you as the side door opens up, the setting sun giving you you no mercy as it hangs on the horizon to beat across the flat surfaces of Equest. Bob, taking a moment to let the heat wash over him, moves forward to survey his surroundings. Despite being far away from the river there were a few strands of dry grass here and even some other plants poking their heads above the dirt. How these got any water is beyond you as it didn’t seem to have any clear source nearby and they seemed to crunch underfoot with each step you take across the surface.

Turning your view to the horizon offers you the sight of a few furry heads popping out of burrows as the last lights of day flickered past the distant mountains and brought a deep black hue to the sky. These creatures scamper up and start shifting through the dirt with long ears, searching for something just beneath the surface. Bob walks among these and others , surviving the area as he goes, till he notices a dip near the center of the plateau. A wide hole in the surface that had not been there when he landed and was hardly visible in the coming dark. Suddenly a sharp screech in the sky sends all the alien creatures upright their long ears twitching back and forth. Then a large dark figure dives down from the sky, snatching up its prey and ripping it apart as it soars back up. Several more of the flying beast descend grasping with sharp talons at the now running long ears and as you watch the pack descend you are caught off guard as one bashes into your side leaving a cut in your shoulder as it tries to pick you up.

Struggling against the pull of the ship pulling you further into the waters you try hard to undue the mess of vines tangled on your ankle. Dark forms flit past you in the waters, only visible as shadows in the murky depths, glancing only inches from your body as your fingers strain at threads desperately.

Head dizzy from the fall and lungs burning for air you manage to pull free from the gasping vines and propel back up to the surface finding the distance glint of the sun above you and rushing towards it till your head breaches the waves in a dramatic splash. You gasp loudly, your lungs greedily sucking in to fill them with air.

Flashes of the dark figures in the waters cross your mind and not taking another moment to rest you swim to the nearest trunk and glob your drenched body onto the base of it. Looking up at the sky and breathing heavily as you watch clouds drift overhead.

“Looks like someone beat us here boys” Sneers a voice close by.

“ Yeah boss seems like they did all the hard work at least hehe.” Comes another.

You try to pick yourself up and as you do a blast issues from the trees and strikes a mark into the trunk across from you.

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Pull my cryo gun and start blasting, Sxirlac refuses to be taken prisoner. Besides, if I don't show up to my work post on time, I'm as good as dead anyway!

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The Grail War continues, and you've defeated Zolgen and erased every last trace of his existence, yet even with your greatest personal enemy slain, the war goes on.

You are Shinji Makiri, Ten years ago you suddenly found yourself with the memories of a complete past life that saw this world as a fictional story due to some unprecedented form of inter-dimensional transportation. Since that day, your new composite being has been working to change the grim future laid out for you.

To that end, you have done much, involving yourself with events and situations that have shifted the future away from the one that you once would have faced and instead onto one of uncertainty and chaos.

The Fifth Holy Grail War lies ahead of you, and the challenge and danger it represents to you, the people you care for and the world itself is far greater than you could have ever predicted. Though the grail might be corrupted and the war itself might be a sham, the stakes couldn't be higher.

Archive of Paradox Reincarnator: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Fate/Paradox%20Reincarnator
General QM Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=WhatIsAQM
Status Menu: https://pastebin.com/AcNswEHq
Shinji Status Page: https://pastebin.com/a6fiNxrZ
My Twitter: https://twitter.com/WhatIsAQM

Last Thread: >>4764817
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"Yeah uh so, I never actually loved you. That was all you"
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Sweet dojo
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By the end of this day off we will beg to have grandpa back.
At least girls will have their own personal enemy in form of yandere Manaka.
I wanted to do it and speculate on matchups but we are about to have at least another thread made out relationship drama so no point in it.
I want to give Altera cool concept so that she could destroy Velber and butcher Archimedes.
>She's just changing her approach
Judging by her offering Medusa she is trying to do faction building inside harem. Big brain move if so, honestly.
Move along.

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You yawn as you stretch out across the twenty centimeters too short bed. Yeah, it's uncomfortable, but the seller gave it to you at a discount, the mattress came with it and it's sturdy so it'll probably last you a couple of years before you have to-

*Crack Crack, Badoom*

"Thatsch the last fchuking shtraw" You say, your face planted in the dirt floor of the hut you call home. As you rise and dust yourself off, you begin your monologue. "I risk my life to protect the citizens from monsters, I endure hours of grueling training so I can serve the Guild better and I don't earn enough Doubloons to afford a normal bed, just because I'm a Mundane!? This is discrimination! It's... It's... It's basically racism!"
The tirade continues for a while as you go outside to make use of your most valuable position, which ironically sits outside unguarded. Even in this ghetto nobody would think about stealing it - It simply weighs far too much for a regular thief to ever lift. Your emotions subside as you begin swinging the 100-kilo barbell around like a huge sword. This is just another day in the life of Garry, the strongest Mundane in all of The Hunters Guild.

Or so you thought until you came back inside to calculate how much money you'll have left after you repair the bed & pay your taxes for the month and find out it means no dinner for two weeks.
A man gotta eat, goddamit.
* * *
"Are you out of your mind? All that training in the sun, poor thing, you must've gotten a heatstroke."

"I'm serious, Iaina."

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>Let the matter go, for now, calm down Gito
> Be friendly with him & try to coax him into telling you by (1d20)
Calm down gito
Let him go, but keep an eye on the fucker.
>Resuscitate the quest with your fists; like hell you're letting it go out with a whimper!

It was a nice dream; A gentle lake with plenty of Brassbeak fish to catch...what else could a man of your age ask for? Alas a dream is a dream, The roaring engine of that damnable district ship has spirited your dream away. No matter, Jonathan Wells has a freshly hatched colonial city to govern.

As your were crawling out of your bed, a throbbing pain has seized control over your 62 year old body. It was...

>Your failing heart
Decades of espionage has weakened your heart especially during the great war. The stress was too much for you in the later years. No rest for the wicked.
Jonathan's past: Sandblood Spy . +1 Intrigue , -2 Easterners, -2 Northerners
Starts with trait: Shady Contacts [ Throughout your years of service, you have made acquaintances with powerful individuals. They will surely return the favor.]
Starts with trait: Once reborn [ The Blessed Blood of your mother runs through your veins allowing you to suffer a lesser death like all Easterners. Your Father's Northern Blood had dampened the blessing of the twins, otherwise, you would have been reborn thrice.]

>Your Phantom Limbs.
Arms and legs were both blasted to high hell, the bitter memories of the Great War still lingers. You would gladly do it over and over again for the sake of your homeland.
Jonathan's past: Honored Veteran of the Great War and Hero of Yarrod Crossing . +1 Strategy , +2 Northerners , -1 Easterners

>Your Mutilated Back

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>>Accept her Wonder-Blood [ +1 Diplomacy, +1 Intrigue , +1 Strategy , +5 Wonderchild : status (Sokeot), +2 Natives, -1 Retaliation ]

Im all for this mystery box
Very tough choice. The stat boost is wonderful, but I'm not sure being tied to this native group is wise until we can divine a political path that reconciles the natives with the eastern wing, plus the easterners may try and dissect us for our blood afterwards. I think perhaps rejecting the power for now is good, that way we can get the political benefits and lessen tensions between the natives and us.

Another thing to note is that we understand VERY little of this continent and its peoples and magic or flora and fauna. We may want to follow up on some of the event paths or otherwise research this place before doing anything drastic. The child's fangs and the mention of plants that eat corpses don't give me faith in this places metaphysics, I don't wanna be a vampire.

>Politely reject her offer [+3 Natives, -1 Retaliation, +3 Wonderchild]
For a myriad of reasons

I'd also rather go for the sure thing rather than risk an event that may require stats we don't have to get a good benefit out of it. We already know options that need stats aren't always predictable or good. This being in regards to the last option.
Rolled 1 (1d2)



+1 Diplomacy (4) [Clueless]
+1 Intrigue (1) [Honest Aize]
+ 1 Strategy (2) [Mudhead]
-1 Retaliation (2) [Ambushes]
+2 Natives (2) [Liked]
+5 Wonderchild : Status (Sokeot)

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In the Hush-Hush

The end of the month beckons. It was quite eventful if you dare say so. Your mind often strays to a recent memory, that of a white-eyed child. You find it quite unsettling to see her in some of your dreams, sometimes she is picking berries in the vermilion skies... othertimes, She is spilling black blood from a clockwork solider reveling in her triumph over progress. You do not know how to interpret said dreams. Perhaps they are just that. Your arcane advisor could possibly help you to break down the true intent of your dreams. The question is: Can you trust her with your secret?

You haven't told your wife about it either. Why? Are you ashamed of your deeds? You can not say. Your sacred marriage had remained strong throughout the years. Ever faithful you will be to Margret and yet your dealing with the natives had left a burning hole in your chest. You feel almost compelled to reveal your secret to your wife, perhaps over dinner. Martin would curse you to no end , when was the last time you say your flesh and blood? The latest report of his battalion stated that they will return to Arkuland for a brief resupply. Your Paternal instincts is clouding your judgement, will you ask him to spend time with his old man?

You could distract yourself with more work instead, the core tower had another hiccup the other day... well, more of an unfortunate infestation . The workers in the lower levels like to call them Gizzers due to the sound they make when threatened like a malfunctioning clockwork solider . They are an unholy abomination of rat-spider spinning slimy webs nearly everywhere. The situation should be controllable but Jacob would appreciate some input from your side.

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>be me Dacbaan (pronounced Da'baan) ina Soqar of house Folool
>be local cushtic war chief
>we are currently on a 4-year-long campaign to reclaim the plains that were strong armed from my father's people
>the land was taken when the good king Birir ina Barqo the giant was overtaken and the Northern men sided with his murderer the resurrected Xabbed (pronounced Habbed) ina Kamas the smoke covered behemoth
>our campaign has 8 major points spaning from the Harardhere (modern day central Somalia) and going through all the way to Qombo'ul (where Xabbed made his fortress)
>have make shift army with 4 of my most trusted friends as generals
>first is Baracdon(pronounced Bara'don): my brother who is the leader of armed forces a greater warrior than I but extremely bad at politics
>despite his hard-headed demeanor he is one I depend on for everything
>second is Qolaas: he is half human half Fataxgodi demon and our strategist who has given us our undefeated streak even in our most dire times
>he is also probably the easiest to speak and is a beast in after battle celebrations
>third is Semawado: she is leader of our supply force and is the instructor to our new recruits
>she's probably the closest thing a lot of my men have had to a mother and she is married to Qolaas
>last is Vandibar: He's a indian and is the weapons smith of our army no one can make better spears and billaos than him and his legion of blacksmiths
>He was sold as a slave to a people that my father conquered and was set free I have known him nearly as long as my brother

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>a few weeks later we sent the civilians to a region a bit southbound that was uninhabited as a temporary settlement as to Qolaas' specifications
>after we made the journey back northbound we took up our arms that were freshly fortified by Vandibar's blacksmiths and made our way to the cursed capital that shade Xabbed calls home
>months go by and we are here in front of the extremely large fortress inhabited by the giant
>We bust in and slaughter everything in sight leaving no one alive
>we make it to the rooming wing
>Semawado and I hear soft near inaudible weeping in one room's crawlspace
>she checks the space and finds a small Taqtaar demon woman clutching a chubby little half demon boy and keeping him from screaming
>we debate wether or not we kill them as the woman screams begging and pleading with us not to kill her son whose name is apparently Xagdad
>me being a dad has once again colored my judgment
>I told them to run and we'd cover them if they ever run into our forces
>she thanks me profusely and takes the child was who was oddly quiet after that and they made their way out on our call
>we made our way to the main hall leading to the throne room
>there are no less than 4 goddamn gaint golems being lead by the Taqtaari demon warrior Dhaxduqaat (pronounced dah-du-qat)
>Vandibar and Baracdon are currently holding Dhaxduqaat at bay while Baracdon's men along with Qolaas and his men are at a stalemate with the golems
>Semawado and I join in and eventually the golems fall and Dhaxduqaat was beheaded after falling for a feint

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It's been 8 years since the fall of the resurrected Xabbed. In these years the newly created Soqari house has gained more and more influence in the northern regions. It's head however, has gone missing. Purportedly, he has gone and become a nomad to gain greater infamy under a different name. In his absence a coucil of 9 nobles (Baracdon, Qolaas, Semawaado, Usraas, Mu Mucaan (pronounced Mu'mu'an), Aari, Garaad Goldooc (pronounced Gol-doo'), Bishro, and Waa Saqo). Their might is gaining infamy in the centeral regions and their less than stellar treatment of the bantu and Qori-ismaris peoples has caused many small rebel movements to take hold. All in all, it's a somewhat peaceful time in the general sense and peace for most citizens has become the norm.
The sun's rays cast down on the plains of Loqem as a cool breeze gently woke the sleeping Xaan from his slumber. He had accidently slept at his make shift camp again and he hurriedly gathered his things to do his morning routine of getting water from local wells and bringing it back for breakfast time. His mother was always strict about him having t do it stating that "A man hunts and a boy finds. If you get good at finding things you may soon become a man and start hunting". He woke his faithful companion Aa (Ay) the jackal pup and it yipped back to the world of the living. The two then spent the dawn hour collecting their things.

He eventually made his way to the well that belonged to the village of Buktan. whenever Xaan was in Loqem he'd always come by there for water. The water itself was nothing interesting but the people were. Buktan is a Fataxgoodi demon village that serves as an outpost to the Arab traders that often took this route to get to central trade routes on the cheap. The place itself was a mix of different Bedouin cultures with a Fataxgoodi sheen.

Xaan made his way to the well and spotted an all to familiar figure. A little girl he called Burti (short for Burtoqaal) on account of her orange robes she always wore. The two always bickered and played a bit when they saw each other. In fact Xaan and his mother were present at her birth due to his late aunt being a midwife at the time. Her dad was also good friends with Xaan's dad and he called him Uncle Vandi (he couldn't pronouce his full name). Soon after his daily ritual Xaan was off again to go back home and deliver the water to prepare breakfast.

Xaan's family was nomadic and his dad made it a point to cycle across the lands to make merry and to "gain glory". In reality he was mostly participating in small scale battles and worked more as a mercenary/ merchant than a glorious warrior he pictured himself as. His mother was a women of many crafts and his three younger sisters always doted on her to learn her ways. In many ways she was the soul of the house while his father was a many ways a wall that shielded them from the world while telling tales that uplifted the family on many a long night on the road. His sisters each named: Siman, Suuban, and Sureer (from oldest to youngest). Siman was more a boy than a girl at times and often she'd play more with Xaan than his father did. She wanted to one day aspire to be like Semawaado the "Warrior Queen" as she put it. Often she was the one that their mom put stock in as a leader. Suuban was much more quiet than everyone. Often she'd be alone making dolls and doing crafts. She often plots with Siman on pranking Xaan and Sureer. Sureer was the baby of the bunch and as such follows around Xaan often imitating him and sometime also their mom.

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I wake up shivering again, autumn sun flashing in my eyes. It's only been getting colder. In a few weeks it will surely snow. I've never been homeless in a hail storm before.

You never think you'll have lots of "firsts" at 43. First time eating something that looks fresh out of a garbage can. First time eating something that looks rotten out of a garbage can. First time getting beat up in an alleyway. First time begging in front of a corner store. First time begging in front of a mother and her- I want to stop. Remembering. Living. Everything. I'm dizzy, partly from the overwhelming recollection of my past and present. Partly from my shakes. Partly from the noisy New York City traffic I normally tune out effortlessly.

I am in a foreign state of mind. I haven't seen a familiar face for some time, other than my bum friend, Toothless Jack. He's next to me, still tuning out the sunlight, car horns and brake drums screeching; fast asleep. I kind of envy his bum zen. Other than that and the fact that he's a good listener and a funny drunk, I don't really care for him too much. After four months of daily interaction, you can't help but notice peoples' flaws. For now, he's what I got.

I rise to my feet and yawn, getting light-headed for a few seconds, then tingling the feeling off, numbness in my body returning to sentience. The never-ending shine of liberation through neglect, unemployment and bankruptcy begins to wane. Aluminum cans, plastic bottles and stuffed trash bags sound my rise to my feet. I feel like I could be spending my time better.

>Well, Petey's Liquor and Snacks should be open by now. Time for another drink. Gotta kill this headache if I want to think properly about my future.
>It's only getting harder to keep up this habit. Today is the day I seek help for my alcoholism.
>This alcohol clearly isn't keeping me happy and "functioning" like it used to. Maybe I should try something else. (which activity or substance?)
>Let's wake up Toothless Jack and see if he wants to get into some hobo hijinks today. Normally we split up at noon and meet around midnight, but sometimes we hang out. Er... We did it that one time at least, I'm pretty sure...
>Attempt to rekindle relationships from my past (who? basically a write in)
>Attempt to meet and befriend other hobos
>Write in - ???
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>69 again, nice

I kneel down. "Alright, El Choops, I'm gonna need you to sit this one out." I think for a second. "Do you understand "sit"?"

The old dog doesn't look at me, just shivers in place on all fours. I see a flea jump off of him.

"Right... Okay." I scratch his scruff and stand up. My head whirls a bit.

I walk around the corner and I get a blast from the bygone days. Further down 111th, about 4 short blocks down from the modern skyscrapers and a short, little park, I can see the brownstones, breathtaking hallmarks of the classier old New York City. The street Nick Miller lived on, and the Book Consignment Store was on.

The slick streets covered in building shade, still moist from morning rain, greet more people as they return to their day, some donning winter coats to meet the challenge of a falling temperature. White clouds, only tinges of grey and black in their corners, come out and hang. My watch is cutting out now and I have to slap it and tap it to understand that it's 2:44PM. Probably.

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"Erm-," visibly shaken, and perhaps stirred, "of course, sir, right away." I tell him my size and inform him I want the $140-after-taxes-for-a-whole-suit deal on the windows. He says it doesn't come with a tie, I says I don't care. He only tried upselling me once the whole time so it wasn't that bad of an interaction, I guess. He says I get a complimentary gift on the house for being a special customer. Cool. I can't tell if he's mocking me when he hands me what appears to be a kid's clip-on bowtie. The complimentary bowtie for being the 69th customer was too small for me, but it'll fit El Chupacabra perfectly when I clip it on to his matted fur. What a raunchy thing for a store to celebrate.

Nice plain socks were $7, so I took a pair. Nice, cozy wool to fight the coming winter. The only underwear they have are silken boxers at $60. Nope, I'll just wear the gym shorts under the suit as my underwear. After my first suit purchase in over a decade is complete, I walk through a door with a man symbol on it. Inside it's a nice marble-tile floor-and-walls personal bathroom with golden-tinted fixtures. I click the lock and get fully naked just for the luxury of it, don't judge me.

I try to use the toilet again, but I got everything out on that woman's stand back there. I drip a few drips and fully clean myself with soap and water and paper towels before donning my gym shorts (as underwear) and my fresh new suit. My tennis shoes are completely ragged and make me look like a joke with the suit, unfortunately. At least they're dry. All the shoes in PERPLEX are way out of my budget. I step out of the bathroom.

A hobo's life depends on luck! Roll 1d100 with your choice!
>I saw some very stylish loafers in my size, on a display somewhat hidden by some coat racks. All I have to do is finesse the staff and security and I'll be stylin' and profilin'.
>If I recall, I saw a sign for a cheap shoe outlet on the way to the brownstones. I'll just pick up something cheap and decent over there.
>Forget this! Ratty shoes won't be a deal-breaker when it comes to Nick. And if they are, then I'm going to have to pretend I'm some rich or successful person that necessitates suit-wearing!
>Write in - ???
>If I recall, I saw a sign for a cheap shoe outlet on the way to the brownstones. I'll just pick up something cheap and decent over there.
Can't afford to have bad shoes in hobolife
Rolled 96 (1d100)

>Forget this! Ratty shoes won't be a deal-breaker when it comes to Nick. And if they are, then I'm going to have to pretend I'm some rich or successful person that necessitates suit-wearing!
Maybe we're a jogging freak, a real fitness nut who burns through shoes. He doesn't know.
Rolled 54 (1d100)

Forgot to roll like a chump

Ok, so one of the facilities in mexico producing our weapons and equipment for the UN and Coalitions is having a problem with their labor. Locals are being replaced with automation and every worker is being laid off. No bonuses, no pay. Not our problem, but inside tips have uncovered how the factory managers are spoofing the production numbers and selling Tin Suits and R&D weapons to TA holdouts. Insider gave us coordinates and the time for the next deal. Mission is to simply set up an ambush for when the TA arrive. Unknown amount of enemy suit users. Expect heavy combat, combat specialists needed.
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Pity this sort of setup does bring some nostalgia for the olden days.

ADIC have we met before? From back in the days of Rest Well perhaps?
What the hell is this doing alive again?
Whoever you are, if you're actually looking for the old gang from OG PACYOA, just let us know. You can get a link.
>a mentally ill person.
>the old gang from OG PACYOA
Sounds like he'd fit right in.
Think we found the mentally ill person.

The Great War Rages, and in the war torn skies over the Atlesian continent, an age of heroes Dawns..

>You are Stanislaw Krol, an ace pilot in Sturmwing Chimera of the Fliegermacht! Last time, you launched a rescue mission for the missing pilots of Werewolf Flight. However, it was revealed to be a sinister ambush....
>You have to keep them off the ground team! Charge forwards and drive them away! Forwards!

Your goal is clear. You have to do whatever you can to keep the attackers away from your rescue team! There is no time to be wasted on second thoughts! None!

Besides...with the Phantom out there, you needed to come to grips as soon as possible. No telling what mischief he might get up to if given the initiative. You only hope this wave is the last one though....

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>1 autosucess
>10 Crow Autofail

For a bit, it's Easy. Almost too easy. Despite the thick smoke trailing from Crow 1's damaged craft, no Merovian forces harass you. Odd. Although you suppose they simply could be focusing on the other Chimera/Crow pairings...

Then, as you make your way over a little creek on the valley floor, you notice something in the corner of your eye.

Several somethings, and moving fast in the same direction you are. It was vaguely possible they were Fliegermacht planes returning from an attack, but you weren't aware of any in this area apart from your own. That left it unlikely...

Best to stay cautious. Picking up the set, you mumble a warning over to Crow 1.

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>Have Crow hit the engine and keep the hell away. You'll have to do what you can.
>>Have Crow hit the engine and keep the hell away. You'll have to do what you can.
>Have Crow hit the engine and keep the hell away. You'll have to do what you can.
The Hell is wrong with Crow? Hasn't done shit all mission.

>Stay close to him. Ground strike may be his specialty but he damn well has MGs too. He can use them.

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