Nine years ago King Aiden Perenolde betrayed the Alliance and sided with the Horde of Orgrim Doomhammer. Nine years ago Prince Alric Perenolde, the second heir of Alterac was sent into exile for his own protection. This exile turned permanent and Captain Normand Garside, your guardian for the past nine years made sure that you were safe and learned the useful skills that would help you in the future.
Now you are ready to carry the responsibility and unite the scattered Alteraci people and reclaim the lands that were once the Kingdom of Alterac.
There was a lot of work to be done in Dawnholme as you waited for the spring to arrive and take away all the snow that kept Lordaeron and Alterac as its prisoners. When the snow would melt, it would free your hand and the campaigning season would start again.
But before winter would release its grip, there really was a lot to do. You had already dealt with many small things, but there were still things you wished to complete as soon as possible. You still needed to talk with Captain Reginald and deliver the news of them being evicted and Lady Jandice Barov was supposed to visit you as well at some point.
Now though you were going to continue your magic lessons and then talk with Lady Nalice about the events that had happened in Southshore.
Who was Lady Nalice? There was something strange about her that you can’t put together.
You are an Onyun and you have a big problem. You are a Z-rank monster and you are sapient! With the exception of Roundmen, Z-rank monsters aren't supposed to be sapient!
Normally, one would think that achieving sapience is a good thing, but not for Z-rank monsters! After all, sapience means you can experience fear.
However, worry not, for you have the natural abilities of an Onyun!
Your first skill, Photosynthesize allows you to recover HP and Sulfur.
Your second skill, Sulfurous Breath, consumes Sulfur and lets it out in a stinky belch, causing your target to flinch!
What do you, an Onyun do first? > Explore the French Toast fields > Go pick on other Onyuns > Explore the creepy caves
I'm on my yearly vacation so it's time for my yearly one-shot quest.
The Peasant has become a Knight! Lucian the Durand, Heir of Ruin, had not only proven himself worthy of nobility during the Kidnapping of Sir Osmond but was a participant of killing the Black Orc Warboss who fought against the Allied forces in Bastonne’s valleys.
Now trained in both war and civility, the Knight Errant embarks upon his journey.
++The Rules++ >Vote with Greentext, otherwise they probably won’t be accepted. >Write-ins can be accepted, and might even be used in the final without majority rule. >If you are going to change your vote, make it so your post only links to the numbers of the previous vote. It's cleaner that way. >If you mix votes together without modifying them in any way, I reserve the right to employ your top most pick as your vote. Claiming it as a write-in won’t work either unless you modify it to convince me otherwise. >The aim for rolls is low.
For the update schedule expect to be semi-daily with the chance I disappear for a week. If something comes up for myself I am placing that before this quest, so that should be kept in mind.
Dramatis Personae
>Morr’s Company Lucian the Durand Knight Errant Adok Fireskin Runesmith
>Duchy of Bordeleaux Duke Moriset; Knight of the Realm Duke of Bordeleaux and Regent of Aquitaine Ducal Prince Gillot; Knight Errant Heir to Bordeleaux Luquin; Knight of the Realm Court Herald Robinet; Knight of the Realm Warden Emelina of Carlton Niece to Duke Moriset
>Duchy of Aquitaine Albera the Golden; Damsel of the Lady; Priestess of the First Chapel Sir Galandril Grail Knight Warden of the First Chapel and Twin Slayer
You are Huanliuxue (欢流血, Happy Bloodshed/ Happy to Shed Blood) , first amongst all housecats and demonic beasts, near peerless beauty, once in ten generations genius, head of the heretical sect of beasts and outcasts the Palace of natural laws (宫殿的野生彝宪, Gōngdiàndīyěshēngyíxiàn) and founder of the Ruler of the Great Wheel's Law(统治者的这重大轮回法律, Tǒngzhìzhědīzhèzhòngdàlúnhuífǎlǜ), and perhaps the most noteworthy and good natured heretic to grace the stagnant world of cultivation in history.
Having taken a chunk out of the Winter blossoming wisdom sect's territory simply by being kinder to the locals than they were and generously and benevolently lending them aid while their so called protectors who summoned an endless blizzard ontop of their heads, by sending your disciples to give them food, firewood and other necessities. And by personally smashing the massive spell formation that created the enchanted storm, after you easily survived an attempt on your life and converted the survivors of that "Hunting party" away from the "righteous" path of the orthodoxy. Now having greatly expanded your sect's holding and influences, even taking the flourishing city of Suiqi as your own and turning it into a place that mixed the ancient and wild pass with the civilized and tamed presence through hijacking the last piece of the winter blossoming wisdom sect's grand array, you needed to prepare in several ways. As not only had you reached out to the other sects of the Chuan region, besides the two who were practically drooling at the mouth to tear you limb from limb, but your killing of the remarkable drunkard Xue Ming had outraged his grandfather.
Who was not only the head of one of the two sects that could not exist beneath the same skies as you, but also the bastard who killed your older, foxy sister Xuebai and crippled your mother's cultivation decades before, the contemptible Xue Laohue. Who you really weren't certain how that old piece of shit was still alive, as he has been supposedly dying since before you were reborn as a magical beast and began cultivating. Talk about being stubborn. But even if you were the first and only holder of a tier 0 golden core, the ancient frosty fossil had many, many years of experience over you. And much of that experience was in killing beasts.
So you needed to prepare for his arrival, as the storm he brought could be seen on the horizon. Literally. He stood in the center of a second, magical blizzard! And you must also prepare for the arrival of your first prospective allies, the five colors and five purities sect.
Your name is <span class="mu-s">Mona mac Muirgen</span> and you've a problem on your hands.
Six problems, specifically, of the goblin variety. You don't make a habit of dealing with the knobbly, nasty creatures that adventurers get paid to exterminate like rats. The <span class="mu-s">Water Magic</span> that you specialize in suits the battlefield just fine, but you've <span class="mu-i">read</span> all of the bodice rippers and have <span class="mu-i">zero</span> intention of turning out like one of those girls. As a mage with confidence in her own abilities, and the celebrated town beauty of your (rather small) hometown, you're halfway there to suffering a terrible fate at their hands.
If had larger reserves of mana - and the generous figure that women gain from such power - you'd be one careless declaration away from a humiliating defeat. The only thing worse than a powerful mage saying something like "I won't lose to mere goblins!" would be a fully armored lady knight with a high, blonde ponytail calming asking the rest of her party to go on ahead, for she will handle these louses. They <span class="mu-i">never</span> handle the louses, and <span class="mu-i">always</span> lose to the goblins, that's a rule set in stone.
As fun as it is to read about that sort of thing in your spare time and comfort yourself to a daydream about being such an unfortunate heroine, you don't really care to live the experience. Though honestly, goblins are more likely to eat you than do anything <span class="mu-i">untoward</span>. They're barely sentient and don't even have the right equipment for it.
"Why am I even thinking about this...?" you grumble to yourself.
The goblins are honestly as shocked to see you as you are to see them, staring at you slack jawed with their wooden clubs held loose in their hands. If it wasn't that superstition born of reading too many trashy novels, you honestly could drive them off just by waving your staff around hard enough. But on the <span class="mu-i">off chance</span> that one of the local dungeon cores gained intelligence and created designer goblins that were the enemy of women, you'd rather not risk it. Same with orcs, though those things are actually dangerous if you're not careful.
Fortunately, you have just the thing to avoid fighting goblins. Well, to avoid fighting most carnivorous monsters, at any rate. Grade D, saved in bulk from a time when you and that <span class="mu-i">damn womanizer</span> hunted down a Terriboar last year, barely worthy of human consumption but still good enough for cheap emergency food. You pull out a large flank of meat from the [Abyssal Water Jug] you crafted to keep odds and ends within easy reach.
The goblins stiffen, their eyes locking on the prize. You puff out your meager chest with pride, knowing that you've won without doing anything that checks any of the cursed bodice ripper boxes. "You want it, boys~? You want it~?"
The goblins salivate, but they're still a bit afraid to approach you - just as you're a bit afraid to fight them. With a bright smile on your face, you spin about with a heaving motion and throw it far down hill. "Go get it~!"
>What is a quest? An interactive story in which a Quest Master (QM) writes and provides the readers with options on how to proceed — similar to a gamebook.
Skirmishes are quests where each player creates and controls a single character rather than controlling on a central protagonist — similar to a D&D party.
>Formatting guide: Only the thread's OP can format. Note that should the OP change ID, they will lose this ability as well. Remove the spaces between the [] brackets and the letters: Bold: text Italics: text Red: [ red ] text [ /red ] Blue: [ blue ] text [ /blue ] Green: [ green] text [ /green ]
>Formatting guide for everyone: Dice (type this in “options”): dice + [no. of dice] + [no. of sides in a dice]
Example: dice+1d100 = a 1d100 roll
Spoiler: spoiler or by pressing alt+s in-thread
>QM question: Are you doing a Halloween special?
>Player question: What's your favorite spooky quest?
The year is 1374 DR. Sixteen years have passed since the Time of Troubles, when the gods were made humble, and forced to wander the Realms as mortals. With the ascension of the mad god Cyric, Prince of Lies, and the recent return of the tyrant god Bane, Lord of Darkness, the future of Faerûn seems increasingly uncertain. It falls to bold individuals who possess an abundance of cunning, might, and determination to shape the future... should they be up to the challenge.
A pregnant pause overtakes the lounge as your awesome presence bears down upon the cornered trio of Tenpenny and his two hired killers. The half-man's trembling hands desperately search his person, fishing a paper box of cigars produced in a foreign land from the pocket of his gaudy silken suit. Grasping a single cylinder of rolled tobacco with a hammy fist, he returns the box from whence it came and brings the cigar to his lips, gasping for air as he chomps down on its end.
The Master of Guilds cannot muster the courage or sense to light it.
Your arrival, so it would seem, has caught your prey off-guard. Moreover, Tenpenny's underlings seem reluctant to act without his instruction. The orc-blooded oaf grins and rolls his shoulders, eager to match his skills against yours, but professional enough to restrain himself. By contrast, the mage woman is patient and composed, her placid expression conveying that she feels reasonably confident in her chance of absconding with her life.
Alas for them, the High Captain's paladins are behind you, and his soldiers have encircled the manor. With teleportation barred by the High Sorcerer's magics, their capture is all but assured, even if they somehow managed to escape you. Still, you feel that you have earned the right to accept the credit of seeing this petulant blob of a man undone yourself.
For the moment, you have the initiative, and with it comes the power to dictate the direction of this encounter. >[Will] If they get on their knees and beg for their pathetic surfacer lives, I will turn them over to the High Captain with all of their limbs attached to their bodies. >First I am going to kill Tenpenny's drudges. Then I will beat him within an inch of his life. Then I might consider seeing him put in a cell. >I went through the trouble of exposing this ludicrous scheme of his. I believe that I am entitled to answers for numerous questions before he is inevitably jailed.
Hemya was digging a hole moments ago. She feels like she just fell of a tree, hitting every branch on the way down. Except that it was a mess of thick cables that slowed her fall, instead of the limbs of a tree. It was quite the drop, she is lucky that she got away with just some bumps and bruises instead of a broken leg.
Sitting on the pile of dirt that that came along on her journey down she looked around. A mostly metallic room, except for the ceiling, which appears to be covered in some kind of construction foam. The Hemya-shaped hole in the foam ceiling lets in enough light for her to see some rickety scaffolding along with some broken machinery, vents and one dark doorway.
There is nothing here that could help Hemya get back out, the ceiling is just too high. She will have to explore this strange, buried structure with just the two things that she carried on her person.
<span class="mu-i">Ten days ago, the world went dark. Five days ago, They came.</span>
You thought you’d be safe, when the sun when out. Why wouldn’t you? You were the only person in town with a diesel generator, a gift from your crazy uncle. So, everybody left, evacuated; everyone except you. It was fun, at first, walking around town, alone in the never ending dark. You felt like the hero of some dystopian movie. At least, it was fun, until you started seeing the claw marks on the walls. The broken windows and the doors you know weren’t open yesterday. When you heard about the attacks on the radio, you stopped going outside altogether. Now, the generator’s fuel supply, the one thing that you couldn’t find in your neighbours’ houses, is running dangerously low; two days ago you had to siphon the gas from your car just to keep it running. You think you could make it to a nearby campsite, the group there had been telling everyone that they had supplies (and light) aplenty. It’s just, you’d need to cross through town, hike over a steep hill, and follow a dirt road into the dark woods surrounding the campground. The neighbours wouldn’t mind if you borrowed their car, right? In any case, it’s time to go.
<span class="mu-s">IN A WORLD</span> ruled by ruthless corporations and full of decay and loneliness, where people turn to violence for entertainment, <span class="mu-s">ONE MAN</span> rose above the system to become the <span class="mu-s">NUMBER ONE ASSASSIN of the legendary the United Assassins Association</span> but then... He vanished. He's been a legend on his own since then, but his story has since faded into the underground...
...Now that the Hollywood pitch is out of the way, let's get to the meat of it. The place is the seaside city of <span class="mu-b">Santa Destroy</span>, life isn't much different than you'd expect... And so you exit your shitty motel room and hop into a taxi. Not the best way to travel, but it should give you some time to rest before you jump head first into that assignment you've been given... You are not sure why, but somehow, you foolishly choose to believe that you may stand a chance here... After all, you've seen this kind of shit in movies and anime, so that means you have some knowledge of what to expect! Of course, that feeling doesn't override the intrusive voices in your head reminding you that you will be putting your life on the line here... Your name is <span class="mu-s">Lynn Lionhunt</span>, a 30-ish year old unemployed womanchild, and you've made a <span class="mu-i">terrible</span> mistake. For reasons that you have no time to think about right now, you have unexpectedly become the 10th Ranked Assassin of the UAA, and your battle is on today. You cannot forfeit. You cannot run away. You must kill your target or be killed by them. And so, here you are...
Well, better get to it. As the elevator stops and the door opens on the 51th floor with a friendly *ding!*, you notice that there are at least 20 guys in suits waiting for you... Each with a katana in hand. Simply asking them to let you through is... Simply not the way this game works. Thankfully, and almost as if it was the work of fate, you purchased one of those fancy <span class="mu-s">Beam Weapons</span> with the last of your life savings during one of your characteristic serious lapses of judgement and common sense. But now, against your best judgement once again. You must use it.
But... <span class="mu-s">Which weapon did you buy? Choose wisely, as you cannot change your type of weapon later.</span> UAA bullshit. Regardless of your choice, you get the feeling that you'll have to recharge them in an oddly sexually suggestive manner for some reason...
>"Beam Claws: Kitty Paw Slicer", a pair of gauntlets with 3 sharp claws capable of cutting through even metal. A more brawler type option, fast and direct but with a very short range. >"Beam Lance: Justice Piercer", a big metal stick with an energy blade at the end. Will let you use those untapped athletic skills and attack from afar, but you might get tired easily. >"Beam Blade: Lettuce Chopper", a more traditional beam weapon, sorta like the beam katana but more... European. Balanced, but a bit heavy. The safest option.
Once the weapon is decided, you will be ready to go. This is your quest to become <span class="mu-s">Number 1.</span>
