Because why not.

Space. The Final Frontier, or so some sailors call it. Beyond the outermost lip of the Earth, there is a black emptiness. The Prime Material Plane is, they say, suspended in an endless void. To those with the eyes to see it, through, and the means to survive it, there is so much more. In the skies above, there are Holy Lun and Holy Sol: the spheroid satellite-worlds of the Eladrin, or High Elves, and their divine creators. Beyond even these is the firmament—a great sphere, speckled with rotating stars. Beyond the firmament, above and below it, are the Divine Realms—the Heavens above and the Hellish Realms below.

And to some, a select few, even THAT frontier is not final.

Your name is Ezreal Mious Van Houtzmann, half-human child of the Sylvan Elves of Dappulyet, Apprentice to the Archmage of Hawksong, and self-proclaimed Seeker of the Esoteric… And you are currently a little out of your depth.

You are presently suspended in just such a ‘place beyond’: in the aether-flooded ‘space-between-spaces’ which exists just outside of the firmament, yet not amongst the hosts of Heaven or of Hell. Rather, you float amongst the Elemental planes: realms of purest Fire, Air, Water, and Earth, which touch upon each-other across dimensions beyond the three which define your usual perceptual reality. An earlier brush with these same planes (and no small amount of study and practice, it must be said) ahs gifted you the ability to survive here…

>0/5 MP

…But not to navigate this strange space freely, nor to escape it now that you are here, and drained of all magic. The young woman floating before you in this strange space brought you here, clad in black, has the means to take you both back from whence you came. Her name is Izirina Henzler (though she was born with another), and she is both your master’s adoptive daughter and the woman you love. Or, well, one of two.

…Or should you now say ‘three’?

G´day /qst/
im creating this quest specifically for those waiting for HeadQM´s return to the Disappearing Hogwarts Quest, however, if you are not familiar with that specific quest, or the Wizarding World in general, you are also free to join in, im trying to make it as welcoming as possible for everyone, regardless of knowledge on the subject (its not like im an expert at it either, i just love the setting, so everything here could have conflicting information at some point, just keep in mind this is all in good fun while waiting for HeadQM´s return).
with that being said, this quest <span class="mu-s">MIGHT</span> be related to Disappearing Hogwarts, taking a very lose inspiration and might have vague references to it, yet, its still a <span class="mu-s">FULLY NON-CANON</span> quest
now, let the story begin!

On the Island of <span class="mu-i">Guyot</span>, farmers ply the field of beachgrass with specially made fish bone combs, to harmlessly pull the seeds from the stalks as to not harm the precious plants. The harvest this season seems adequate. Behind them, young children follow to pick up any fallen seeds and to drive away pests. Underneath the blazing arid sun, the farmers wear their hats and work slowly as to not sweat themselves too much, the nearby picnic is all ready for their next break.

Down off the high top, there is a commotion in the village along the beach and docks. What, has a ship come in from the <span class="mu-s">Black Ocean</span>? Carrying goods for trade or Sweetwater, from the Fruit-Barons? No- it seems a young woman is finally giving birth. This is a happy occasion, and she is about to hold a newborn baby boy. This will be you, as you have not yet been born.

But alongside your mother, there will of course be a man, and from his profession will influence the future course of your own life. What kind of man is your <span class="mu-i">Father</span>?
>Naval Officer (Highest Skill, Lowest Luck)
>Local Craftsman (Highest Wealth, Lowest Skill)
>Escaped Slave (Highest Luck, Lowest Wealth)

“But can it ever be that what is borne in blood will not be bared by bone? Can it be that a Shadow is not true to the Shape from which it is cast? Much has been said about the low character of the modern city; near as much about those that dwell in them. Speculation is the trade of to-day, and the man of to-day is all the worse off for it, regardless if he himself speculates or not. The speculation of goods – commerce – promotes sloth, greed, and waste, all the while being as like to ruin the speculator as it is to sustain him. When fruits ripen sour and foul, there must be disease in the tree, no matter how handsome its growth or fecund its boughs. And as for the other stripes of speculation, in monies – usury – and in properties – lease-writing – are so nudely ruinous that no man even distantly approaching decency would ever need to be convinced of their nature.

Against the fallen Idea of the city is the farm. And against all of the occupations by which gain may be secured in the cities is the farmer. Of all of the occupations by which gain is secured, none can be held to be greater than farming. None more profitable, none more delightful, none more becoming of the Imperial Man, decent and Clean. Where the lessons taught by life in cities are undermining at best, life on a farm teaches thrift, industry, diligence and duty. As such, it is the smart man who looks far afield from the cities for a wife, and for a place to raise his children and dependents, surely, to a place quite similar to the one you have been endowed.

Due to the fractious holdings of the Arms, endowments are made throughout – and even outside – the Whole, so it may be that you will have to adjust according to your clime and soil, but as a rule, the best farms have vineyards situated right at hand to the houses and shelters of the establishment, with irrigated gardens, willow plantations and olive orchards nearby. Further away from the built-up center there should be meadows, grain land and secondary vineyards trained on growing trees. At the perimeter, there should be woodlands – bearing acorns, if at all possible."

- A passage from <span class="mu-i">The Endowed Farm</span>, a manual given to honorably discharged (and literate) soldiers when they receive their land endowment. It is a commonly held belief that good soldiers in retirement make for good farmers, though in practice many are not well-suited or even overly-desirous to take up farming, only requesting the land endowment for the 'two-legged spoils' that come with it – Brute concubines to be bred and civilized.

The Nation of Ferrovia has fractured with the death of king Harold with three successor states and a bandit kingdom now fighting over the nation's future. King Elric, the king's brother backed by the landed nobility of the country, wages war in hopes of holding up the monarchy and by connection with the landed gentry. As he styles himself now Lord protector Baric attempts to halt the Monarchists and reformists from harming the status quo with the backing of the army his force is small but well trained and armed. The last of the main contenders is Queen Meredith the sole child of King Harold and devout reformist backed by merchants democrats and communists alike she must lead this dispraite force to victory.
You are Sir Edmund ”The Crow” Drayton, a recently Knighted Yeoman, the leader of the small monarchist sub faction of the reformists. The last few months have seen you push the southern front of the junta forces hard. They have put up stiff resistance with the capture of the ferrovian military academy and the destruction of a motorized division being your reward for your efforts.

Past threads: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=BrinkQM

The men are ready the next day after defeating the motorized division to keep heading north pushing through desolate territory. The ferrovian countryside is ravaged by the war small villages that used to be the life blood of the rural areas in the north are all but gone The railroads which once moved ore and grain to the industrial cities lay destroyed heaps of burned railroad ties and the tracks themselves having been thrown onto the fire to make them useless. The enemy is going full scorched earth where they can. Your pushes are often slowed by nearly every bridge over even the smallest creek having been destroyed.

3d100 best of three please

<span class="mu-i">Sapphire syrup sloshed inside a tall metal pod that hummed in a low pitch. Caressed by the thick liquid, a fetus no more than twenty weeks curled up, held in place by myriads of wires. The Emperor of Mankind and Malcador examined the machine in the deep cellar beneath the Imperial Palace, no one else, not even his trusted custodians.[i/]

“The primarch project is already underway, we have no use for it. You can use it however you wish.” The Emperor said.[i/]

Malcador softly hummed, his robe hid whatever expression he had. “There are many use for it, a buffer perhaps.” He continued hearing The Emperor’s silence. “The primarchs will be brothers and brothers will naturally compete. They will seek your approval as all sons do. She will be a buffer, someone to be impressed and to distract the primarchs of their competitiveness. Someone who appreciates what they do. If she is proven ineffective, then a political tool of convenience.”[i/]

“The primarchs are not children and will be above such emotions. It is inefficient to create this just so my sons can feel appreciated. The primarchs are tools of war.” The Emperor said without a hint of emotion.[i/]

Malcador nodded. “But still human. They will not be an emotionless tool that you want them to be.”[i/]

The Emperor paused for a brief moment, then stared at the pod. The fetus twitched its leg.[i/]

“Begin the procedure. Create her as you see fit.”[i/]</span>

Your father is dead. Now, having only just passed the threshold into manhood, it is up to you to provide for your mother and little sister. You've been waiting for this responsibility. Your father, once the great retainer of some (now fallen) lord, lost himself in his latter years to cards and spirits. He was, at least, never violent, but he squandered the little you stood to inherit and worse, left the family with significant debts.

Penniless and desperate, unable to even secure an apprenticeship with any of the masters of the village (debt is worse than leprosy in that regard), you've taken up his old sword and his round shield and come to the town of Hobcroft to try your luck as an adventurer.

It's been six days since your arrival and you've burned through the dozen or so silver staters you had come in with--coins your mother practically forced you to take, though it will mean subsisting on thin barley porridge and whatever chestnuts your sister can scavange from the woods. But you've managed to secure some leads on possible employment. The bigger jobs are reserved for those with the reputation to meet them, for the rest either the pay is uncertain or meager or the risk is great.

You have three offers before you:
>The guard captain is looking for someone to help infiltrate a mysterious fire-worshipping cult that has setup in a nearby ruin. The pay is good, and you'll be led by an expert in such things, but the risk of getting caught gives you pause.
>A merchant is looking for someone to survey the lands to the north, for purposes of a new settlement. The journey should easy given how many will be in the company, but the pay, split so many ways is equally paltry.
>An old blind man wants to be escorted to the Oracle of the Moon, a journey that will take you through the mountains and across the river. The pay is decent, but the journey, though through safe roads and lands, is a long one. At least you'll be paid up front.

[ENTERING THE FIFTH KALPA]
[...]
[]
ALLBIOS(C)0000 CHAOS APPARATUS
[STARTUP]
[]
0Parameters=
1CmdLine=SEP_Client_Cognitive_Hardware_ID_Fix.bat
[]
REROUTE COMPLETE [...] CHAOS INITIATED [] KALPA ACTIVE
[WE BEGIN TO THINK AND BREATH LIFE]

~~~

Archive: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Levelman
Questcord: https://discord.gg/gGnp9rP3Uy
Wiki: https://chaosquest.miraheze.org/wiki/Main_Page