It was a dark and stormy night, not that you knew or cared about the weather. You were too busy having been reborn from your past life as a
[ ] teenage McDonalds worker [ ] mid-twenties office peon [ ] middle-aged Hollywood star [ ] retired garbage collector [ ] write in
And now, here you were - a wrinkly newborn, born into what you would come to know as a peasant family straight out of a fantasy world. Expect, if you were living a fantasy, you wouldn't be placing yourself in it as a peasant.
Oh, well.
Where does your family live, anyway?
[ ] On a farm in the middle of nowhere. [ ] In a village not all that distant from a city. [ ] In the city slums. [ ] write in
Youre Neil Gaiman a rich and famous jew author. Like all jews nothing makes you happier than raping and degrading white women. Youve been raping them making them drink your piss eat your shit for years (theyre poor and need your money to survive so they cant say no lmao) while roleplaying a white knight male feminist online lmao. You thought youd get away this forever but shit you suddenly got metood! The white women you raped (some of them in front of your five year old son) are now accusing you of rape! Fucking bitches! Wtf do you do?
> Emigrate to Israel like your fellow jew Bryan Singer (X-Men director) who raped hundreds of little boys and got away with it kek
> Put on your little yarmulke and cry antisemitism
> Its anudda shoah. Cry and remind them of your six gorillion tribesmen
That’s what some say, at least. There are many and myriad reasons to say so, some more compelling than others. The shining silver and unyielding iron of the Paladin Pece has lost is lustre, they say:
There are monsters in the lakes and rivers, creeping through the hills and dales from the Bloodrise Mountains.
Shapeshifting lizardmen spy from the shadows. Demon cults perform dreadful rites in forsaken farmlands left barren by dragonfire.
Goblins beset caravans to the east, emboldened orcs expand to their north, and the Southmen have cut off trade and stage military drills along the lowest border of Civilization.
A weak-hearted woman sits upon the throne of Hawksong, greatest jewel of the North, with an absent husband and a mongrel heir.
The Archmage is dying.
Everyone has heard at least some of these rumors, seen some evidence that they are more than the tall tales of pessimistic drunkards…
But for some, chaos is opportunity. An age of instability is many things, but to an adventurer, it means two things above all else: glory, and gold!
His wail was liable to wake the dead. His brother and two others held him back with a tender expectation that any moment he might test their grip. He did. It seemed he might even make it to her, but his brother caught a wrist and wrestled him back. The muddy thoroughfare was laden with people, silent but for an occasional sob rising into the cold morning air. All eyes were on the palanquin.
It was flat, open-topped, solidly built, unadorned. On it lay seven bodies, eight now as the Sonziz lifted her into the last of the open space. Fourteen, maybe fifteen years old. The cheeks gave it away, though they’d already started to wither despite the effort put on her by whichever amateur took the task. Skin brushed and clean, powder and pale cream, lips daubed bright. The other half of her face was sallow though, lips receding, skin starting to fall down into the canyons of her skull. There was a harsh line at the nose where the amateur had stopped, shaken no doubt by the sound of the bell. Nobody expected a second tithe.
The man wailed again. Higher pitched than one would think him capable considering his bulk. He spilled small, fragile pieces of her name into his hands as the fight left him, drop by drop.
“Mi-mir-m-e.”
His breath began to race, the fact that she was being taken becoming real. It did to everyone eventually. Some small, small spark of hope blossomed in him. It did for everyone, eventually. His eyes turned towards you. Everyone’s did, eventually.
“M-marcel! You can’t let them! She was free…they can’t take her, we already paid. P-please. GIVE HER BACK TO ME!”
He lunged for the palanquin with every mote of wrath left to him. He slipped his brother, the butcher, and the chandler, red-eyed with wet cheeks. He reached for her before you could speak…but it wasn’t fast enough, it never was. One of the Sonziz moved like a sunlit snake and the man’s arm was cracked in half at the elbow, flapping back toward his shoulder as the momentum spun him into the mud at your feet. The splatter sprayed out over your boots, his stoppered breaths made bubbles. He started crying again as you lowered yourself to sit on your heels.
“It’s over, <span class="mu-i">paire</span>. It’s over. There was nothing you could do. Remember that.”
Your name? Tiara Boobowski, Tiara the Manx, Princess Tiara, whatever, you were supposed to be Sonic's girlfriend but... Honestly you're not sure what happened with that, some dumb thing about "Your zone no longer existing" from some multi colored Sonic Wannabe. It was kind of annoying. You've mainly been slumming it here with your dad for as long as you can remember. It's nice enough, a lot of other people live here, there's some jerk Nack and his sister Nicolette always running around. A lot of folks who look like Sonic or act like Sonic but you know they aren't <span class="mu-i">your</span> Sonic. When you woke up today you didn't expect anything to be much different than normal.
"Good Morning Tiara." your father Gazebo remarks
"Hm." you nod in response, blankly staring out at the bustling city-space overlooking your home. You peer down.
There's a Vector walking hand in hand with a Vanilla, a version of Cream with them, you see an older Tails fly past a younger looking Sonic and... Wait a minute... who is that?
On the street below you see a hooded figure, not too uncommon a sight, any wanderer from any zone could be wearing a hood but something about the energy in this one was... off? If you didn't know any better... You'd think that there was a red glow around them.
"Tiara?" your father asks "Is something the matter?"
> Go down there and investigate guns blazing > Go down there and investigate, being stealthy > Leave it be, not your problem.
In the parched, rocky desert, where dry winds blow dust from one hill to another, there was a gnoll.
You, the gnoll, were a slave. You scarcely remembered the time when you weren't. A trial of power lost and your fate sealed by the leader of the pack was everything you could gather from your early years. You were weak then.
Years of labour in the copper mines and oasis farms made you strong. Those that couldn't become strong didn't survive here.
In your time at this and several other work camps, you learned some things from fellow gnolls that could be useful in later life... (pick up to 2 skills or none at all) >You were not allowed a weapon, but you learned from a disgraced martial artist the traditional gnoll ways of combat. (You learned barehanded close quarters combat used against both armed and unarmed enemies) >You learned from a priest, branded and enslaved for malicious magic, the heresy of Razzalbewz - the worship of demons and the basic seals that grant its warriors their strength. It has been spreading in the past decades among the gnolls, but the old faith remains strong. (You learned seals - signs associated with demonic lords that, when worn with a cloth, cut or otherwise born on the body, grant supernatural powers. It is, however, a dangerous craft, working with powers many civilizations consider evil...) >You learned the craft of storytelling and bargaining from a traveller that visited even human lands, enslaved upon returning to his homeland for betrayal of the pack. You enhanced this ability by trading stories with other gnolls. (You will be a decent talker, capable of negotiating even with men that would otherwise kill you.) >Write-in?
Through luck and perseverance, you lived to escape enslavement. The rebellion was quick and brutal. Seizure of ill-protected blades from guards, deep in the night. Murder of the slavers. Looting of the camp. Then, freedom. The gnoll slaves scattering, like desert winds.
What did you loot, if anything, from the guards? (as previously, pick up to 2) >A weapon. Gnoll weapons are a crude craft, but they do their job. (specify what kind of weapon. Perhaps the simple, effective spear? Or the powerful sword? Or something ranged?) >A book. A rare find among the mostly illiterate gnolls. The shaman of the camp, keeping the magic users inside in check, died from a simple strike to the head. You couldn't read, but perhaps there was knowledge there that would open up paths in the future. >A steed. Desert gnolls ride giant lizards and camels to battle. This animal, however, is meant not for riding, but for hauling large shipments of goods. It may not be as fast as a war camel, but it's better than travelling on foot. (specify animal: giant lizard or camel) >A bunch of supplies: some food, a waterskin, a rope and an oil lamp - all in a rugged bag. >Write-in (1/2)
With the majority of the Seventh Universe united under the banner of the PTO, Emperor Cooler at its head, the universe has known a time of unrivaled peace. But in the shadows threats have been growing, nursing grudges against the PTO and the Saiyan race in particular. And now those threats are rising, stepping out of the shadows to openly challenge the established order. Seeking nothing short of the destruction of New Salda and the extinction of the entire Saiyan race, can you prevent this outcome? Or will the Saiyan race be reduced to nothing more than memories, their heroes nothing more than ink in the pages of the history books?
You the players will (most often) control Karn; wielder of the mighty Berserker Soul and hope of the entire PTO, not only the Saiyan race. From his lowly beginnings as a Saiyan Brawler with a sub-3000 powerlevel in Age 733, only a few years into his time as a member of the PTO, he has grown in power and skill, overcoming the world-ending threats that have come for the Saiyans to become the strongest Saiyan of his time at AGE 759. From the massive Covenant empire to demonic incursions, mad cultists to vengeful gods, none have been strong or clever enough to put down Karn for good. But will one man's power be enough to protect everyone from the rising threats? Or will death come from those who you least expect it from? Your choices may mean the difference between survival and extinction, so choose carefully.
Quest rules are as follows(unless otherwise noted): >30 minute vote times >Pick ONLY ONE option when voting >Dice rolls are all best of first three correctly-rolled dice >One dice roll per person per post unless three players have not yet rolled, and ten minutes has passed since your previous roll >Crits are 100 on a d100(a 99 or paired rolls may net you an extra bonus) >Crit fails are a 1/100 with no passing rolls, or if two 1s are rolled regardless of the third >Write-ins are both allowed and encouraged, but OOC options will be ignored >If your goal is simply to troll, at least put in enough effort to make it funny >Have fun
SCQ will usually start on Saturdays at noon Eastern Standard Time, and run throughout the weekend. Also, for updates or schedule changes you can find me on twitter @GrandDragonQM, which I keep as up to date with any scheduling changes as soon as possible.
You are Kuroda Haruka and <span class="mu-r">King Lot of Lothian, Orkney and Camelot.</span>
It's been an interesting week, you've sparred against Dread Agreste, learned a bit more about the personalities populating Camelot like the Candy Maker and Spy, tried to figure out more about the Romans and their empire and got gifted a very useful Relic by Emperor Lucius Hiberius.
Of course, getting something nice and useful doesn't mean that Lucius Hiberius is genuinely interested in befriending you. It seems more like the opening of trying win an oath of fealty to make her Kingdom more powerful. Also, she placed a bounty on capturing 'Queen Guinevere' alive because she fancies the boy... No matter how you think on that, it's not a comfortable discovery.
Oh, and you discovered that Avalon is the grave of many Lost Children gone widdershin'. You've learned the existence of such Blessed as King Urien of Gorre, Augustus and King Pellinore.
Depressing.
Better to focus on the potential to Gate to the island of Romulus through the escaped slave Arminox. The enslaved dollman escaped from the Roman ship, Zama, and is in your custody. If you get gather enough Mana, the Anarchists will attempt to make the journey.
With that goal in mind and the return of the Guides from the Quarries and their resupply of Stones, you are ready to start raiding the World in the morning!
But first, you need to discover who died and cause the stars to fall. Yatagarasu the Guide has suggested going to the Temple...
With the absurdly long list of people you rescued from prison, you were bound to have some heartfelt reunions. Families were torn apart, romances were put on hold, and friendships were about to be lost to time. But not now, the bittersweetness of mending these bonds taste delicious! Yet, some are built better than others. The reunion of the Strangeloves has been long overdue before you even touched your first flame, and it was as touching as you wished it to be — you can’t imagine how Constance feels. And, well, Oliver and Jaylene, they are… well, not the most anticipated one… But that doesn’t mean it’s undeserving of a nice conclusion.
It isn’t as easy as it sounds. Long ago — <span class="mu-i">after</span> you touched your first flame — the despicable Jaylene invaded this very place (technically not this one, the old clinic) and tried to kidnap the sweet Constance. You had to give your word that Jaylene is Raccoon Tier threat level and friendly at that. One thing led to another, and now you’re learning about Odetta’s medical records through Kata, and in this very tale, a hidden truth has been revealed! The one Judge of enormous ears is related to the rest of the Larsens! Indeed, Esperanza is Jaylene’s aunt! You have no idea how she relates to Agent Spooky, but it might hold some significance!
It’s so obvious looking at her now… Jaylene’s ears are as huge as Esperanza’s! Even the nose is similar!
“We didn’t know Odetta’s name back then, but once we figured it out. My other cousin Heidi made the connection. I took care of Ms. Odetta Larsen here… And my uncle did the same with a poor girl named <span class="mu-s">Esperanza Larsen</span>… She’s your aunt, isn’t she?” Nurse Calamity retells with gusto.
“I-I had another aunt…?” Jaylene can barely keep her mouth shut from this revelation.
“Yeah, another one that you didn’t get to meet because of some freak accident. Great.” Odetta assumes something terrible happened to Esperanza. Which is kind of right!
“<span class="mu-i">Tstststs…</span> Johnny, did your mind get blown away from something else aside from our beauty?” Misty teases you. Seems like she’s spending a lot of time looking at you. “You appear to be a little… distracted.”
Maybe you should bring this up, maybe you should wait for later. Either way, you must say something…
<span class="mu-s">What do you do?</span>
>“I think this is the same Esperanza as the judge…” Reveal to the group. Everyone needs to be on the same page. >“Sorry, I got distracted. I’ll bring it up later.” Apologize and continue listening to what Kata is saying. There are some spooky mysteries in there waiting to be revealed. >“Hold on, I need to make sure of something…” Stylize Jaylene’s hair to match Esperanza’s pigtails to make sure 100% that they are related. Passing time with Ms. Cooldown taught you a thing or two. >Write In.
