Your name is Vincent Cruz. You work in a shady government-backed facility in the middle of the New Mexico desert. By all accounts, you are a complete and total nobody to the Powers That Be.

You've managed to survive the last 7 days at your job. Your job, of course, involves studying and researching dangerous anomalous entities in order to make money for the Abnormality Regulation Coalition (also known as ARC).

In fact, you survived long enough to get promoted from Level 0 to Level 1. You're no longer on the bottom of the totem pole but you're still so, so far away from the top. Five more ranks to go and who's to say you'll survive long enough to reach the top?

If you're going to die here, at least you're going to die at the top. You've climbed dozens upon dozens of corporate ladders, what's one more, after all? It's the only life you've known so you might as well get comfortable with it.

As for a recap of some notable things that happened recently?

You accidently stumbled across Liz getting herself involved in office politics. While you don't care about getting yourself entangled in them, you decided to keep an eye on Liz to make sure she won't do something she'll regret.

You also learnt that one of your coworkers, Ashton, is an aberrant cannibalistic human called a 'Harvester'. For a while you thought her unconditional kindness to you was a mask for something but no, apparently she really see you as a friend. Instead of a meal, thankfully.

A dream you had last night still lingers in the back of your mind. It was the only decision you could've made, it was the only right decision, you had to leave that house.

One of your anomalies, IN LIMBO, has finally kicked the bucket. It decided that the best thing to do would be to move on. All that's left of it now is an ARTIFACT, a remnant of its anomalous power. Rest in peace, Rolle.

And lastly, an old and presumably anomalous phone you bought a while ago has been ringing non-stop during your shift. You're currently trying to negotiate a deal with a mysterious man who's offering you something that 'doesn't cost you money', whatever that means.

Your life is a surreal mess but what can you do about it? The only path you can see for yourself is doing your job to the best of your ability. You're a <span class="mu-s">wageslave</span>, born and raised to torture yourself by doing obtuse and obscene tasks all so a line goes up.

For the line must always go up.

ARCHIVE: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Low%20Rung
VINCENT SHEET/INVENTORY: https://rentry.co/VINCENTSHEET
ALLIES: https://rentry.co/COWORKERLIST
ANOMALY NOTES: https://rentry.co/RESEARCHNOTES

This is Bill
He is King of the Hill
Challenge him in battle for the right to rule this mound

Rules of battle are thus:
>KOTH and the Challenger each roll 1d6
>The current streak is added to the Challenger's roll
>The winner is the one with the higher value, KOTH wins a draw
>The winner may take the items of the loser
>To join post your Challenger with an accompanying image or description
>Choose a starting item with one of the following stats
>+1 die
>+2 pips
>+3 value
>+1 item
>After every 4 wins, KOTH may level up one of their items (essentially a +1 of the item)
>2 items can be held at a time

Other caveats:
>An orderly queue: every challenger will be gone through in order of appearence, bar consecutive submissions by the same poster
>The creator of the current KOTH may choose to continue to roll for their champion
>OP will roll in the creator's stead if they do not respond to a challenge within 24 hours, but will not pick up any items or upgrade them
>The creator may take back control of their character at any moment, and upgrades will be refunded

Welcome to /qtg/, a place to talk about quests.

Previous thread
>>6308657

>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 choose-your-own-adventure book or an old text adventure.

Questionably Useful links:
>QTG discord: https://discord.gg/dZavHuK
>Skirmish discord: https://discord.com/invite/DZCVvVU
>Evo Game discord: https://discord.gg/xGZAX9tAvx
>Old pastebin containing advice for QMs:
https://pastebin.com/Z78p8gXf
Badly in need of renovation.

>Archiving guide:
Go to http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/requestqstinterface.html
Fill out the request form to archive a thread.
Threads are also automatically archived by other websites, such as archived.moe.

>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: <span class="mu-s">text</span>
Italics: <span class="mu-i">text</span>
Red: [ red ] <span class="mu-r">text</span> [ /red ]
Blue: [ blue ] <span class="mu-g">text</span> [ /blue ]
Green: [ green] <span class="mu-b">text</span> [ /green ]

>Formatting guide for everyone:
Dice (type this in “options”): dice + [no. of dice]d[no. of sides on the dice] (optionally you can add modifiers: dice + [no. of dice]d[no. of sides on the dice]+[modifier]; for a negative modifier type: +-[modifier]

Examples: dice+1d100 = a 1d100 roll, dice+1d100+10 = a 1d100 roll with a +10 modifier.

Spoiler: spoiler or by pressing alt+s in-thread (doesn't work in OP)

>QM Question:
How in-depth do you plan? Of course no plan survives first contact with the enemy, but how many plot beats do you try to have? Do you have an ending in mind?

>Player Question:
How do you feel when a quests ends? Be it naturally or unnaturally (flaked/cancelled). Have you ever been compelled to continue a dead quest? Did you? If not, why?

>General Question:
How many quests have you seen finish properly? Do you wish more QMs showed restraint and did more self-contained stories, or do you prefer quests that just keep going so you don't have to stop reading them?

>Lurker Question:
There is no question, vote.

>Miscellaneous Question:
Hypothetically, if there was a /qst/ board secret Santa like some of the other boards have, would you participate?

The world has another side, one with secret societies and hidden powers vying for control. But it is not merely humans, nay. For millennia, creatures which a modern man considers fables have been battling in the shadows, both within their own, and others.
Only the Magical Girls can slay the demons of humanity's suffering, and clean up the supernatural messes along the way!

Following next, a magical girl begins her first training session.

- - - - -

On the last Episode, our Heroine, Magical girl SugarRush, has gotten her first introduction to magical girl society. Witnessing the dark land of the Shadow Market where she met an eccentric ‘apprentice’ E, and a non-combatant Sister of the Magical Girls, the troubled Angel. Now, she has arrived on the beach to train with her Magical Girl teammate, Jacky.

- - - - -

You shake off your troubles, compartmentalization always works, thought it feels like the more you lock away, the quicker you reach your limit. But this is important, you’re here to train with Jacky. She doesn’t seem like the sort to make it too harsh anyway.

So you nod at the short girl. Much like you, clad in bikini and flip-flops, though carrying a small purse.
“Lead the way.”

Jacky widens her grin.
“Attagirl!”

As you walk on the sand, you feel the gazes taking you in. You stare ahead, while Jacky waves.
“I didn’t know when you were arriving, so I’ve been chatting for a while. There have increased drownings, it’s not part of our territory but it’s good to know, both for our own girls, and for the rest.”

You arrive at what might be generously called a bar, but it’s closer to a plastic shack in the middle of a beach, which just happens to have some booze on sale. A surfer dude is manning the counter, eagerly greeting your companion.
“Welcome back babe! This the friend you mentioned?”
He bears a grin as he scans you, one that falters when his eyes eventually reach your face. You have been told in the past that you have a resting bitch face, though you think you’re just honest with your emotions.
“Y’ alright, dudette?”
His question seems to carry a hint of genuine worry, but before you can answer, and probably tell him to fuck off, Jacky is already smoothing the situation.
“She had a real rough few days. That’s why she’s here, the sun’s out, the water’s great, and some drinks will make that even better.”

The explanation calms him, grin returning and head bobbing with nods.
“Yeah, the waves ‘ve been great.”
He turns, opening a cooler and taking out four bottles, two of some tripe named cocktail drink, and two of watermelon vodka.
“Can I count on you for the Luau?”

Jacky seems almost too smug.
“Oh I wouldn't miss it.”
She takes the bottles and turns, doing a slight flourish with her hips.

(1/3)

<span class="mu-i"> In times of old, there stood many a great kingdom or realm, their lines proud, their kings great, and their works were legendary. It was a time of greatness for all, from all classes and races, for it was a time when the yields were abundant, the cattle fat, and the weather favourable.

This changed, however. A creature with a heart pitch-black and eyes of darkness and despair that rise and shrink with hate. All despaired at his coming and the hordes and legions he brought with him. Crowns were broken, castles slighted, and the kings lay broken. Like a vile black hand, his reach seemed boundless; with his fiery red eyes, his gaze kept his subjects obedient, and from a dark tower, this lord of evil watched over his realm as the land fell into darkness and despair, with hope fading like a dying ember.

But embers can flare up, and like the phoenix, a new generation of heroes and their hosts of light broke the chains, shattered his armies to the winds and finally brought an end to his reign of terror. As the morrow broke once more, it was thus proclaimed that nevermore should his name be uttered, nevermore should his remains be seen, and nevermore should there be fear of his tyranny. And so, the people rejoiced in their newfound freedom, rebuilding their shattered world with hope and determination for a brighter future. His artefacts and symbols, buried deep beneath the sands and earth, were so well hidden that not even the most fanatical cultist would find anything.

And yet in that lies the danger; dead though he may be, there are still those who revere him as though he were a god-king upon this earth, and his ilk have a tendency not to stay dead… There are still whispers, mutterings and vague prophecies about his return, though none have come true as of my writing this tome…. His name was struck from the lists of both paper and mind, so one would never again say that name which struck deep grief into the hearts of all peoples…. I shall end this book with a warning: if he does return, do not try to fight him; run. Run to the nearest authorities and alert them; fighting him alone shall surely be your doom, even if he's weakened, but the worst thing you can do is to let him speak; his words shall gnaw in your mind, his arguments shall be so persuasive that you will drop your weapons, and he shall weave a web of deceit that will ensnare even the strongest of wills. Hearken unto him, no matter his guise and form, and before too long you shall find yourself in eternal servility. </span>

Archive link: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=The%20Shadow%20Rises%20Anew
DeviantArt link: https://www.deviantart.com/adlershorst

The radiant summer sun shone down upon the verdant sylvan landscape; these fair meadows and groves had an ethereal quality that was, of course, a vestige of the faewild of old. The sight of its remnant had been among the most enchanting things you had ever seen.

And yet, you couldn't help escape the burden that was so heavily laden upon your head; the crown may be kept safely in the vaults under the Albrechtsburg, but its weight never quite left your head. It was among the elder days of the 13th century, the year 1275 to be exact. And the kingdom of Greifswald was at peace. Still, as far as realms were concerned, yours was still young, for it had been but thirteen years since the formal proclamation of the kingdom, though in truth, it has existed as a polity since 1241, though only as a dukedom. 34 years of an Adlershorst upon the throne, though the lineage stretched back further; by the standards of the continent, the royal bloodline was virtually new money.

Now, in the waning years of the 13th century, the king and court are engaged upon a tour of the northern fiefs, solidifying alliances and ensuring the loyalty of vassals. Yet things are not as they should be; monks travel and do not greet their king, and nobles leave their estates and disappear, only for them to resurface in strange and secretive gatherings. It wasn't rebellion, or at least, it hadn't been able to coalesce into one, but your suspicions were brewing.

War you knew; compared to the soldierly simplicity of that life, dealing with the two-faced members of the aristocracy was something you had grown into, but you still perceived the practice with distaste.

It is not that you don't enjoy the pleasure of conversation with some wine and roasted pork, but you would prefer it without the threat of walking yourself into a verbal trap, where you would need to extricate yourself with utmost courtesy.

All in all, the tour has had mixed results; the count of Hoenstein had provided you with some useful information regarding one Oskar von Schmallhausen and a Hedwig von Merckhayn, though what they were up to is a bit of a puzzle. On the other hand, your visit with the burgrave of Dornheim was nothing short of an unmitigated disaster. You said a few things were maybe a tad bit high-handed, he retorted in kind, and you left as soon as you had come, before he would tear up his contract of vassalage to you or do something worse.

The matter left a bitter, though perhaps sour, taste in your mouth, and you didn't really feel like continuing this tour, or at least wanted to speed it up for your sake. If anything, the nobles should come to you; if all of them were in Ritterbach, there would be no more of this. But what was started should be seen through...

General links of varying importance.
Pastebin: https://pastebin.com/u/Adlershorst
DeviantArt: https://www.deviantart.com/adlershorst
Archive: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Settler%20Lord%20Quest

>Now with intro theme music
https://youtu.be/r7AGlW-XxKk?si=UY8ixOnnFhCxgPpn

<span class="mu-s"><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><></span>

<span class="mu-i">This is but one of the legends of which the people speak...</span>

<span class="mu-i">Long ago, the kingdom was blessed by a <span class="mu-s">Golden Power</span> handed down by the three great goddesses. It was a prosperous land of green forests, tall mountains, and many peaceful tribes of people.</span>

<span class="mu-i">But one day a terrible <span class="mu-r"><span class="mu-s">Demon</span></span> was loosed upon the realm by the mysterious <span class="mu-s">Shadow Tribe</span>. He dwelt atop an enormous <span class="mu-r"><span class="mu-s">Black Tower</span></span>, and wherever its shadow fell was consumed by impenetrable darkness...</span>

<span class="mu-i">The <span class="mu-s">Shadow Tribe's</span> sacred duty was to protect the <span class="mu-s">Golden Power</span> by guiding and defending the descendents of its chief inheritor. For their transgressions, the golden goddesses cursed them, and in their shame they repented.</span>

<span class="mu-i">One among their number rose to the challenge, and used <span class="mu-s">Shadow Magic</span> to pursue the <span class="mu-r"><span class="mu-s">Demon</span></span> to the top of his tower. This noble samurai warrior, clad all in white, was known across the land as the <span class="mu-b"><span class="mu-s">Hero of Shadows</span></span>, but his legend was forgotten by all after a short time, with only the survivors of his tribe preserving his story in secret.</span>

<span class="mu-i">When the <span class="mu-r"><span class="mu-s">Demon</span></span> was finally defeated by the <span class="mu-b"><span class="mu-s">Hero</span></span>, the <span class="mu-s">Seven Sages</span> combined their magic, and used a piece of the <span class="mu-s">Golden Power</span> to topple his tower and seal him away in a <span class="mu-s">Horned Statue</span>. The <span class="mu-s">Shadow Tribe</span> hid it inside their sacred <span class="mu-s">Temple</span>, so that he might never again endanger the realm...</span>

<span class="mu-i">Many ages passed, and the land would be imperiled by many <span class="mu-r"><span class="mu-s">Monsters</span></span> and powerful <span class="mu-r"><span class="mu-s">Demons</span></span> over time, yet always saved by other <span class="mu-g"><span class="mu-s">Legendary Heroes</span></span> before all could be lost...</span>

<span class="mu-i">Eventually, a cruel and ruthless <span class="mu-r"><span class="mu-s">Warlord</span></span>, one of the three inheritors of the <span class="mu-s">Golden Power</span>, would seek to claim the other pieces for himself in order to seize the kingdom. Summoning an army of monsters and mercenaries, he began a campaign of conquest across the land. Far from where his war bands gathered, his servants would wake the ancient <span class="mu-r"><span class="mu-s">Shadow Demon</span></span> from within the <span class="mu-s">Temple</span>, hoping to enlist his wicked powers. They would be interrupted by a young man from the <span class="mu-s">Shadow Tribe</span>, undertaking the <span class="mu-s">Rite of Passage</span> of his eighteenth birthday. Unable to stop them, this lone warrior would survive to see the <span class="mu-r"><span class="mu-s">Black Tower</span></span> looming high above the kingdom once more... And the tale of what followed after is its own <span class="mu-g"><span class="mu-s">Legend</span></span>... It is <span class="mu-g"><span class="mu-s">The Legend of Zuzo</span></span>...</span>

<span class="mu-s"><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><></span>

Jail Quest: a text adventure occasionally illustrated.

A night of drinking and a failed attempt to cheat on cards had landed you the strangest job slash community service sentence you've ever had: ensuring Gongalla Gaol survives the reality storm called Singularity.

Now you travel around with your employer and a handpicked crew to survey the four Reality Anchors. Hey, beats being tarred and feathered, right?

Previous thread:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6274911/

Gongallaverse:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Gongalla%20Gaol

You suddenly jolt wide awake in an unfamiliar room, with no recollection of the past few hours. It even took you a few seconds to remember you are Rosa Montagni, and another few seconds to realize the other person in the room is your crewmate, Valencio. Slowly, hazy recollections piece together a loose narrative of previous events: you've reached Viridis, the first leg of your journey to the East's Reality Anchor, when you receive news that your go-to destination slash transport, the walking city Freeport, had problems with its engine. Then you were sidetracked into a casino, where you played cards and unwittingly aided a truant Hexbourne student against a haughty twin Hexbourne students sent to retrieve him. Then you got entangled in a complex emotional... something with the casino owner, Don Bosco. Something about your mentor, Sierra (no relation to Sierra, the deity of the South anchor) and copious amounts of drinking? That must be why your memory's so hazy.

It is the chirping of the birds which first jolts you from your stupor, proudly sitting upon their trees, singing jollies to and fro of the merry morning lights. You, who had found no rest, no shut eyes throughout the night, take it simply as an ringing pain on your head. For though you had momentarily found yourself lacking in cognition, it was not rest which you had felt, but a lapse in concentration, a departure of your thinking to some state of sickly torpor.

You had not slept for the entire night, and certainly, it hath given no benefit to your condition. But then again, how could you, with the challenges that you faced?

You are <span class="mu-s">Alessandro Galliota</span>, the Viscount of Portblanc. That much you can be sure of, even in your sorry state...you, who had been brought here to this land of Nera, this distant land from your own, by your great liege <span class="mu-s">Don Carles IV Brascarams</span>. You had come here to wage war in the name of the Spisa family, allied to your country, against the forces of the Fortelli, friendly to your foe. You had launched a campaign throughout their borderlands, partaken in a siege, and most of all, you had faced a force far mightier than yours, many times greater in both number and capability, aided by scores of Himmmerian Giants, those most fearful of enemies of the human race. For a whole day, you had succesfully fought them of, and, shattering the bridge which they sought to take in an pivotal moment, you had sunk to the depths of the river hundreds of their men.

You escaped death, too, by a hair's breadth, when the infamous <span class="mu-i">Famiglia</span>, those mighty knights of Nera, armed with beastly amazonian mounts, had been able to momentarily breach your formation. It was only by bidding your musketeers to fire upon them even as they fought your own men that you had survived, though at the cost of your entire retinue. All those things and much many others had happened yesterday, in this battle upon the Vessena. This battle, you are certain, has not ended yet, and it is this which brings you trouble. For today you must <span class="mu-s">seek out victory</span> and find a way to hold your foes at bay until the city of Montechia falls!

For now, however, breakfast will have to do. Shaking yourself out of this stasis, you raise yourself from the piece of wood that you had used as a seat for the night. <span class="mu-i">Because you had fled into the grove to make your camp</span>, you did not have the amenities of your lordly tent. Of course, compared to those amongst the soldiery who did not have any tent at all, you were not in a poor state. You order one of your servants to gather up whatever is available for you. What you receive, after some time, is...some bread, and some of the cheap rum that was served to the soldiery. Though it be enough to fill you, you cannot help but feel some manner of bitterness in the knowledge that you stand but a few minutes of travel away from your supply wagons.