“I will decide upon those when I hear back from them.” You state to Neila’s question of rules of engagement for your patrol boats.

“Sir ? If you send a message, I doubt we will be able to pull anything off besides a simple punch.” She questions you, finger hovering over the tablet as she was about to send out your orders.

“Better risk it now than lose it later. Who knows, they might be friendly ?”

“If you say so, sir.” She eyes you with clear suspicion, but still defers to your judgement.

“Comm centre, how copy ?” You direct your attention to your own pad.

“Good copy, sir.” The woman manning the station responds in a swift and crisp manner.

“I want you to begin transmitting my words towards the general area of the arrivals, use the Argonaut’s systems to bounce my speech off it.”

“Copy that, sir, wait one.”

You wait few seconds, organizing your thoughts as your advisors all look upon you, waiting for whatever words you will speak. Here’s to hoping that your <span class="mu-r">boorish</span> nature won’t stick in.

“Sir.” Your tablet once is greeting by the voice of the comm servicewoman. “You are transmitting.”

“Attention you bas-“ You catch yourself and clear your throat. Soldiers tend to have almost entirely created their own language through insults and swear words, and you indulging them in such a way had endeared you with them, especially considering that even calling someone an idiot in front of an officer would usually result in some sort of censure.

“Unknown forces that had entered the system.” You try to recall how other COs usually talked. “Identify yourself immediately or be fired upon. We had settled this system and wish to coexist in peace, but we shall not shy away from protecting what’s ours. David Hardrada, out.” Alright, that should outline the general idea.

“Very persuasive, sir.” Serret dryly says.

“Proper identifications were given and the requests are reasonable.” Reinhart nods, actually genuine.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z0GFRcFm-aY

*11:58... 11:59... 12:00.*

You may not know it, but your world has just changed forever.

No longer is Earth inhabited solely by Man and Beast. Gone are the days of the Mundane and the Magical existing only within the human mind.

As of today, a third pillar of life has forced its way onto your lonely planet.

*Welcome to a new world. A world... of Pokémon.*

<><><><><>

Something startles you. You shoot straight up, eyes not yet used to the light now invading their lids, and rub your sockets in a vain attempt to surmount your groggy awakening. A vague thought floats to mind...

>...it's so hot. Too hot. That's what I get for sleepin' outdoors in the middle of July. I should get up before i'm accosted by some wannabe sheriff or mean cowboy.

>...another dream about printing papers in the city. Even the eclipse couldn't knock that dream out of me. I've got to get out of here before the Great War ends or I'll never make it big.

>...my alarm clock just went off. I've got to be up and downstairs by now. The customers are waiting for me, I can't waste any more time dreaming of that exploding spaceship. Where's my Walkman?

Welcome to /qtg/, a place to talk about quests.
Previous thread
>>6029851

>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/6s4Xazmv
>Skirmish discord: https://discord.com/invite/DZCVvVU
>Evo Game discord: https://discord.gg/v55Xaaja
>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: 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]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

>QM question:
Do you have any quest concepts that you really like the idea of, but for whatever reason aren't confident that you could run?

>Player question:
Are there any quests you're playing that you'd like to see revisited from a different angle, or with a twist?

>General question:
What multimedia franchises do you think would be best suited to /qst/, that haven't already generated a successful quest?

>Lurker question:
Why don't you at least chime in to let the QM know you're reading? And do you ever share what you're reading with other people?

>Miscellaneous question:
What other boards do you frequent, besides /qst/?

Because why not.

Archive: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Disappearing%20Hogwarts
Character Sheets: https://pastebin.com/bi5pZS6n
Twitter: https://twitter.com/head_qm

--

Spells fly around you, your friends try to crawl away from the battle, their hands still tied, their mouths still gagged. You dive behind the archway in space that is the way out, dragging Arty with you.

“Weasley!” You shout at Mr. Red, who is on the floor, his face on his hands. “You wanna know what happened to your niece? You wanna know what happened to <span class="mu-i">Lily</span>? He killed her! He tortured and killed her! I never lied! He’s Salazar Slytherin, and if he gets to that basin he’ll become more powerful than Voldemort ever was!”

You struggle against Arty’s bindings as you shout, but he doesn’t seem to hear you, holding his head with force, as if trying to claw his way into his own skull, as if under tremendous pain.

“It’s- It’s not real!” He shouts, shaking. “It- It never happened!”

“It happened! It happened and time changed! But here you can remember!”

“I- I can’t-”

Brighton slams a rock over his head and he crumples on the floor.

“Brighton!”

He picks up Mr. Red’s wand and runs to you, looking like he’s also in pain. He waves it at Arty’s bindings, but only the tiniest cut appears on them, wordless spellcasting with someone else’s wand being far too difficult in his condition. He pushes the wand into your hands and you manage to cast the spell well enough to release him.

“My head,” he says as he pulls the gag out of his mouth, voice strained. “Feels like it’s going to crack open.”

“Mine is not so good either,” Arty says. “But it’s bearable. I… I remember Lily. I remember her! And her memories are trying to push through the old ones.”

“I… I used to play with her,” Brighton says. “When we were kids. We weren’t best friends but-”

“The more memories you had with her the worse it is,” you say, suddenly understanding. You had been protected from the change by Ancient Magic when the shift happened, so your mind had time to fit both timelines together with some elegance, and even you had your moments of disorientation. Theirs was suddenly being forcefully flooded with their original memories. “No wonder her uncle was like that. Can you two fight?”

“Yep,” Longbottom nods, voice strained. “Just need a wand.”

You look around, searching for the man who had your wand, and also for Linda and Apollo. You find them taking cover behind one of the great glass-like stones, which from the amount of blasts they’ve taken are anything but glass, desperately trying to find a way of cutting the magical knot-less ropes that bind them.

[Cont.]

Welcome to /qtg/, a place to talk about quests.
Previous thread
>>6029851

>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/6s4Xazmv
>Skirmish discord: https://discord.com/invite/DZCVvVU
>Evo Game discord: https://discord.gg/v55Xaaja
>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-b">text</span> [ /blue ]
Green: [ green] <span class="mu-g">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

>QM question:
Do you live for the (You)s, or do you prefer a smaller playerbase that actually discusses the quest? Of course both would be preferable, but which would you choose?

>Player question:
Do you just copy the vote and post, or do you try to generate/engage in discussion, maybe with the QM? What would incline you to generate more discussion?

>General question:
Using a quest's characters, how would you pitch it to someone who isn't reading it yet?

>Lurker question:
Do threads with a lot of posts that aren't votes/from the QM scare you off or do you prefer having to scroll through discussion? Do you ever engage in that, even if you don't vote?

>Miscellaneous question:
If you could ban Souv, would it be permanently, or just temporarily?

It is an age beyond history. Men have regressed to struggle once more against Nature, red in tooth and claw.

You find yourself in the wilderness, naked except for the bit of pelt covering your loins, and the stone knife in your hand. It is midsummer. The weather is fine, not a cloud in sight, and the morning air is invigorating. You were separated from your people during an attack by the hideous scalemen. Most were slaughtered, the survivors taken captive to a far away place. You managed to escape in one piece, losing your pursuers in depths of a dense forest.

The scalemen have been the enemy of your kind as long as you can remember. They came riding on their blind, serpentine beasts, ambushing you when your people had set down for the night. Those they didn't kill, they bound with strong ropes to the backs of their mounts and carried them away to their lair. The scalemen don't feast on the flesh of your kind, preferring the likes of the insects and fish, but they will sell your people as slaves to the other clans, where they must toil until their deaths.

One day, you will avenge yourself on these scalemen.

In the meantime, you must survive.

Before all this you were a:
>Hunter (skilled* in Athletics, Marksmanship, knowledgeable** in Trapping)
>Craftsman (skilled in Crafting; knowledgeable in Building and Tailoring)
>Healer (skilled in Survival and Insight, knowledgeable in Herbalism)
>Trader (skilled in Scouting, Communication, and Crafting)
>Herder (skilled in Animals and Survival, knowledgeable in Tanning)

*Attempting something in which you have no relevant skill has a low likelihood of success
**Certain actions/crafts are impossible without the relevant knowledge

Those of you who participated in the previous incarnation of this quest: I'm very sorry for flaking like a faggot. It was my first attempt and the quest got more traction than I expected. I wasn't sufficiently prepared to run it and kind of panicked. This time around, I've developed the mechanics a lot more and have a lot more stuff prepared.

On a faraway world, humanity is thriving. Across the surface of this planet, thousands of tribes have been born and strive to become something greater – a true civilisation. They struggle with one another for this privilege, for the opportunity to leave their mark on the world for evermore.

We are following one of these tribes, who call themselves the <span class="mu-s">Protavic</span> – the <span class="mu-i">beast-bringers</span>, in their own tongue.

They belong to the <span class="mu-s">Scavic</span>, a race of people with soft faces, fair hair and blue-grey skin. Like the rest of their kind, they inhabit the <span class="mu-s">Grascan</span>, a vast oceanic forest filled with dangerous beasts and towering trees.
The Protavic people have settled by the <span class="mu-s">Croglatol</span>, a great freshwater lake. The forest thins out along its shore, which allows the native tribes to prosper without fear of predation.

Traditional beast-bringers are now in the minority. They are sedentary pastoralists, who rear swine and tend to hives of honey bees along the shore of the Croglatol. They worship <span class="mu-s">An</span>, the Allmother and the source of the divine energy that flows through all living things, <span class="mu-s">Drocrom</span>. They prize intelligence and cunning above all else and though they view their tribe as supreme, they prefer to subjugate other tribes through commerce rather than violence.

The <span class="mu-s">Anamilivic</span>, also known as the <span class="mu-i">children</span>, make up the majority of the tribe. They are the distant descendants of the <span class="mu-s">Vuvovic</span> who were integrated into the Protavic tribe. Though they enjoy an identical lifestyle to traditional beast-bringers, they also practice ritual scarification and the ceremonial drinking of blood. In addition to the Allmother, they worship <span class="mu-s">Il</span>, the Great Father, the son and lover of An. He is the strength to her wisdom.

There are also those Vuvovic who were allowed to serve the Protavic tribe as a warrior caste. These <span class="mu-i">blood-drinkers</span> lead lives free from labour but serve as the tribe's soldiers. They serve as the vanguard during times of war and during times of peace, they catch slaves, guard caravans and protect the tribe's borders. Though most of them are Anamilivic, a small group of blood-drinkers are still diehard Vuvovic traditionalists.

Some of the tribe's eccentricities deserve to be mentioned.
Though the majority of the Protavic's sustenance comes from the pigs that they have domesticated, bees and their honey have far more cultural significance. <span class="mu-s">Butol</span> is a sacred form of mead drunk during ceremonies and festivals, while beeswax is used to produce all sorts of artefacts of cultural and religious importance.
The beast-bringers' fixation with intelligence has led them to develop many methods of testing their wits, to ensure that only the wisest are allowed to lead their tribe. These include an abstract board game called <span class="mu-s">Blocrum</span> and a complicated written language known as <span class="mu-s">Protadrol</span>, which the Protavic's elite are expected to excel at.

You are Ben Parker, super-powered criminal and thief extraordinaire. After being bitten by a radioactive spider, you underwent a miraculous change, and adopted the identity of "The Huntsman"! But it's not all bad! Your clone brother, Abel Parker, works to protect the city, and potentially help clean up some of your messes. <span class="mu-i">He</span> goes by the name of "Spider-Man"!

Archive:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Max%20Spider%20Quest

Last time: After Ben caught up with his clone brother, Abe (A.K.A. Spider-Man), he recruited the Thief Girls to look into the production and distribution of an addictive drug targeted towards mutants called "Kick". Then, he requested that Ember's first act as a Desperado be to use her powers to remodel Central Park into the greatest Halloween attraction known to man.

And with all the help Ben's been giving the Morlocks, Callisto finally admits to being able to trust him completely. Although, the fact that Ben had just revealed his name and face to her somewhat helped with that declaration.

But what of Iara's revelation of Donny's return? Will the Morlocks be able to comfortably move out of Central Park? Will their plans to profit off of Ember's powers pan out, or will it blow up in their faces?

And will Storm ever recommend the Desperados' services to her colleagues.

Find out more in the latest issue of…<span class="mu-s"><span class="mu-r">MAXIMUM SPIDER QUEST!</span></span>

Rules:
Most dice rolls will be 1d100. Modifiers will be added depending on the situation or on the alien being used(Usually +10 or -10). Crit successes and crit fails apply. Crit fails can be overridden by crit successes, but crit failures cannot override crit successes.

How to Roll:
To roll dice, type “dice+1d100” in the options field without the quotations. To roll dice with positive modifiers, type “dice+1d100+modifier number” in the options field without quotations, and with an actual modifier number. To roll dice with negative modifiers, type “dice+1d100+-modifier number” in the options field without quotations, and with an actual modifier number.

Pastebins:

Character Sheet:
https://pastebin.com/1ZihFYSV

Equipment and Gear:
https://pastebin.com/WAhveFAd

Contacts:
https://pastebin.com/WdcFXD2s

10 Commandments of the Desperados:
https://pastebin.com/Qpr2jVPE

Costumes:
https://pastebin.com/5Jie54X2

The Huntsman’s Travel Guide:
https://pastebin.com/PU6LWsip

Upcoming Events in the Maximum Universe:
https://pastebin.com/DceSEjiR

Good luck and have fun!

Previous Threads: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=The%202nd%20Primarch%20Quest
_

Still dressed in her wedding gown, as you and her lay on the dewy grass, you meet your bride's gaze gently and look into the emerald sea of her eyes, seeing the somber golden glow of your own eyes catching the light of the setting sun reflected into them, golden fire and Emerald water mingled together like when the sun descends the horizon at the sea. The warmth of her touch radiates out and reaches deep into your chest as she lays practically on top of you, arms wrapped tightly around your midsection and her own body pressed against your own. The wind lifts the loosened flaps of your robe and plays through her hair as her request, her proposition settles into your mind and stirs a desire almost alien to your senses, an uncomfortable heat welling up from within your heart, fanned by emotion rather than instinct that were excised from you and your brothers at your creation. The whirlwind of passion, sweeping up the sparks of chaste love and stoking it to become a different beast entirely, altering its form and sensation but not its source.

And as the chilly touch of her fingers sends involuntary shivers down your sun warmed skin, your mind drifts, hazy already with the spirit known as love true and strong and further fogged by the peerless beauty and the tempting offer she has made, the coy smirk on her lips, the almost challenging look in her eyes. But it does not drift where the thoughts of other mens would be pulled and lured if they were in the same situation, rather, you day dream not of anything indecent or lewd, but rather towards a future that probably will never come to pass. Of a pack of merry minded children, with eyes of entwined emerald, gold and silver, taller than most, fast growing as you were, but unburdened by the grand responsibility and towering expectation of both of their parents. The man engineered to be a warlord, who'd prefer to spend his days wandering the fog dampened forests or tending flooded paddies of rice rather than shedding blood and committing war on a galactic scale, and the soul of a colony ship who had survived not only her passengers and crew but all of her civilization save a few of her family, but both who carried out their duties without complaint out of a shared love for humanity. A love rivaled only by the one they share, the love from which these imaginary children sprouted.

Oh how vividly you can see them, racing through the mists and clambering up the hills of the valleys and rocks that dot them, swimming through the stream, laughing as they play with grown tiger kin who have escaped the monstrosity and crimes of their own parents and Space Marines taken from the battlefield and allowed to pursue arts besides those of the martial and killing variety.

A perfect world. That can only be an illusion. For perfection cannot exist.
Cont