Lytek was, like most work days, sitting behind his desk. The God of Exalted stroked his white beard after penning a recommendation for a Lunar Exaltation, reviewing his work. Satisfied, the grandfatherly god smiled, and put the letter in his filing cabinet, where a copy would be instantly made and transmitted to Luna.

A knock came on his door, and Lytek looked up. “Come in,” he called, raising his hand to both open the door and ready the chair, all without standing. He moved his piles of papers to the sides of his desk, ready to meet this visitor.

But it was not a visitor, but his assistant and daughter, Lysidore. “Father!” She said, rushing into the room. “We have an emergency! A whole circle of Sidereals were killed!”

Lytek's eyes bulged. He stopped himself from asking details - he could learn them after his work was done. On cue, he heard five thumps in his locked cabinet. The Exaltations had arrived. “Here,” he said to Lysidore, reaching under his desk and offering his cleaning implements to her. “Help me prepare them.”

The graveness of the situation pulled down her excitement. Father had never asked her to help him in his duties. Not like this. She grabbed the tools and pulled a few files from the top of his short stack, labeled “Sidereal Exaltation Candidates.” Lytek unlocked his cabinet and five small will-o'-the-wisps floated above his hand. Amber, cerulean, crimson, emerald, ans violet - one for each of the Castes. Pure Essence, empowered by the Five Maidens of Destiny.

“Quickly,” he said, “there should be some Dragon-Blooded ready to be lifted to the stars.”

In a frenzy, Lysidore spread out and looked down at the files she pulled. All were dynasts of the Scarlet Empire. “The Bronze Faction will have something to say-”

“Not when it's this many at once,” Lytek grinned, his white beard moving with his cheeks. Grudges from the Solar Purge still persisted among the gods, especially he who was held back from his duties. The blades of Sidereals held Lytek in check as the Solars extracted and imprisoned his charges. It was a gamble for Lytek, but potentially denying one Dragon-Blooded for the Bronze Faction to steer was worth it. Even better if this Sidereal-to-be did not join the Bronze. Besides, four more Sidereals would join. It will be noted one was a dynast, but it will not be an outrage.

Lysidore strained to recall the last Sidereal pulled from the Dynasty. It was quite a few centuries ago now… She shook her head. Time to review. She took one of the Exaltations in her hands and began to inspect it, scrubbing away abnormalities that came from beyond Creation. She read the candidate profiles…

You're a monster.

Harsh but true. You, Kyle Mercer age 23, are a monster.

Take it from me. Real recognizes real. Sure, it's not entirely your fault. You didn't <span class="mu-i">used</span> to be this way, but let's be honest with ourselves here: the difference between you now and the Old You is that the New You just doesn't care anymore. Peel away the skin, strip away the gossamer thin wrappings of civilization and society, and what do we have underneath?

A creature of instinct. Hunger and hate. You. A monster.

Today was supposed to be a day like any other, with boring lessons from teachers that seem to despise their students.

That is, until you saw <span class="mu-i">her</span>.

She was one of the seniors, and was just going about her day, smiling and chatting with her friends. Thing is, she was completely nude.

The even more confusing part? No one seemed to notice it. Everyone was completely oblivious to it.

What do you do?

>Confront her
>Ask other students or teachers if they notice it
>Tail her for a bit, see what you can find
>Other (fill in yourself)

In a dark place, a <span class="mu-b">made-man</span> struggles against his bonds. Before him, several tools glimmer and sway gently along the wall, the strange bald druggist who knocked him out playing with them. The room is barely illuminated from the streetlights, passing cars, and electric billboards of Level 4. True darkness and silence is not common here.

“...It's always women, prostitutes. Transient kids. People who won't be missed. That's no fun. I think doing it to men is much more fun; but not because you're a boy. More because it's not somebody you'd expect. It could be <span class="mu-i">anybody</span>.”

<span class="mu-b">”You want money? I got money. Pacelli connections.”</span>

“You will be next great creation. Worth far more then any amount of dirty criminal money.”

<span class="mu-b">“Who da fuck... wait, you're from Level 2?”</span>

The man doesn't say anything, instead the stranger brandishes a razor, testing its sharpness against a finger, turning to the mobster. He looks over his captive, eyes looking for the juciest piece to cut first. The mafioso tries to pull out from the rope, the chair squeaking. He sweats. Bribes will certainly not work.

<span class="mu-b">“You'd be smart to let me go, psycho. I'm a dangerous man, and I know dangerous people!”</span>

He grins at the mafioso with a golden tooth.

“Exactly. That's the fun part.”

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.

Politely saying everything had gone to shit. King Varian in his melancholy and delusion had arrested Prince Alric for what he saw in Alric's part in Lady Katrana Prestor's attempt to wrestle the control of the Kingdom of Stormwind to herself. In reality Alric had been the voice of reason and tried to negotiate a peaceful solution to all this.

What had followed was a swift counter-coup and Malevus found herself being chased by a bunch of thugs wearing the King's tabards. Danger, intrigue and diplomacy filled her days as she was steadfast in her mission to rescue Alric.

And now she is on her way to the Stormwind Keep, into the Lion's Den to rescue the man she loves so much.


Welcome to Alterac Resurgent Quest!

…

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Side Character Stats: https://pastebin.com/aRfyksUG

It has been 100 years since ancient beings, known as the Old Ones, walked the Earth with their two strong feet. Now they are gone and we animals now rule the remains that they left behind. With our new knowledge of sword and sorcery, we were able to survive in peace for a while, but then came the three factions.
The Apes: Strong giants, claiming to be as just as the old ones and believe they should be the ones to rule over the new world.
The Pigs: An intellectual but slothful group who wish to rule the world with an iron hoof and remain kings while the others remained as dumb animals.
Then there the Lizards: A fast and large group that want to set the world a blaze. Trying to forget the harsh past that the old ones left.
All three sides wishing to go war and destroy one another to bring in what they believe to be true peace.
But, unbeknownst to everyone, there was another group. One that was trying their best to find a way to heal everyone. To bring back order.
You found it.... and now you are taking care of it.

A D&D Homebrew Adventure.

Previous Quests:https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Rise%20of%20the%20Awakened

<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

<span class="mu-i">“The Krieger Corp is the life for me,
A gun, bed and funeral for free.
That’s my lot in the Black Company.”</span>

It took the Earth 10 long years to die. Like every planet afflicted by the pervasive sentient plague that swept the galaxy at the turn of the 23rd century, aptly named <span class="mu-s">The Rot</span>, Earth’s demise was slow and agonising at first then violent and sudden by the end. The seas boiled and the air turned to ash in the wake of the continent-shattering orbital bombardments that cleansed her and a hundred other worlds.

20 years later, the dust of the Purification Wars has settled and the surviving xenos empires have finished carving up the remaining colonies of those less fortunate races between them, including those few left from Earth’s initial phase of expansion. Just rewards for the victorious alien’s part in saving the galaxy. The surviving human population, once many billions, now numbers in the mere millions. An entire race of refugees, vagrants and backwater outcasts begging, stealing and labouring as second-class citizens, servants or slaves under uncaring alien masters.

A lifetime of backbreaking work for stale recycled oxygen units and a handful of credits is the best fate most humans can hope for. Little wonder then that the violent but lucrative life of a mercenary holds such appeal. As the novelty of peace wears off and the rival alien nations rattle their sabres once more, human mercenaries are in high demand for their crude effectiveness and affordable prices.

And of all the human mercenary firms, there are none so infamous and so highly sought after as the services of the Black Company…

=============================================

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2230AD Annal Entries: https://pastebin.com/zBic3fPQ [Updated!]
Recorded Xenos Species: https://pastebin.com/vdG01RzG
The Last Human Colonies: https://pastebin.com/VA3nHbTm
Advanced Firefight Rules: https://pastebin.com/NATmyFSw

>It is January 24th of the Year 71 of the Cosmic Era

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<span class="mu-s"><span class="mu-i">Frieden Moon, The Mind-Killer. Black-Band pilot of ZAFT.</span></span> Has found himself participating in a covert infiltration of the Atlantic Federation's G-Project using his background as a former EA pilot... Though unfortunately caught in the crossfire of ZAFT's operation to steal the Mobile Weapons in Heliopolis Colony. A deceived partner uncovers a secret of the Nation of ORB. <span class="mu-i">Which now lays on Frieden's own hands to pilot.</span>

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