The story takes place paralell to the story of Kengan Omega, the martial arts anime/manga.
The Kengan matches are an underground fighting promotion headed by the Kengan Association. Centuries ago, the wealthiest merchants of the Edo era sent their strongest gladiators to battle out financial disputes. Today the most powerful corporations of Japan carry out this tradition. The underworld and the world of the living are about to intersect!
Martial artists who transcend the public sphere's knowledge exist in the Kengan matches. Those who eclipse the bounds of reason.
You are Billy Yang, a young Kung Fu practitioner searching for a way into the Kengan matches. After making contact with Yamashita Kazuo, a recruiter, you've begun training with veteran fighter Mokichi Robinson. Your best friend Sammy gave you a lead on the murder of your mother as well. While investigating you managed to find and defeat one of five assassins responsible.
Your exam to become a Kengan Fighter is currently underway. You're battling an ex-champion boxer with a berserk fighting style.
You wake up, groggy, as you regain your senses. Your eyes feel as if they've been pushed to the back of your head, like you're looking through your eye sockets like peepholes. Your body feels heavy, you feel relaxed, and yet your heart feels like a jackhammer. You feel the rope around your torso.
The door opens. In walks a man. A fat ugly shit of a man. He wears only a stained wifebeater and a pair of soiled shorts. He speaks. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't keep you baby".
This game can only have one player, the first to reply gets to play. Write your questions down as a comment
Hello ladies and gents, I’m Chuck Woolery and this is The Dating Game.
Tonight’s bachelor is this handsome gentleman right here, his name is Jacob Rommel, he’s 26 years old, lives in New York City, and works in high rise construction. This man puts his life on the line for our luxury, so let’s give a shout-out to this young.
And tonight’s bachelorettes are:
>Bachelorette #1: She’s from Beijing, China, she works in a Nike factory for 5$ an hour, and she likes fried rice, boba tea, and buying things she made the same day. Meet the lovely Mei Ling! >Bachelorette #2: She’s from Huntsville, Alabama, she’s unemployed and living on welfare, and her favorite hobbies include eating fast food, drinking excessively, sharting her pants in Walmart, and considering Finns and Russians nonwhites. Ladies and gents, welcome Janet Smith! >Bachelorette #3: She’s from Helsinki, Finland, she works at a bakery, and she enjoys saunas, snowy days, bloody sausages, and making Swedish liberals seethe. Bring it up for Kaarina Heikkinen!
<span class="mu-g">Ask bachelorette #1 a question <span class="mu-r">Ask bachelorette #2 a question <span class="mu-b">Ask bachelorette #3 a question</span></span></span>
You are the grand wizard of Chan'el, Dorfrendor. Trained by the greatest sages from birth for an ancient destiny, you reached the zenith of magic, and took up your duty in the tower of the boundary. Outside of time, in the gap between chaos and reality, sits the tower. Built on the supreme leyline, the tower separates the realm of what is from the domain of what cannot be.
You function as an immortal mana battery, powering the tower and guarding the mortal realm from the chaos of the abyss. It's extremely boring.
The tower has three floors, from top to bottom: The living quarters, where you sleep. The study featuring a small library of arcane texts and a desk, made of rich mahogany. The workshop / laboratory, stocked with magical components and reagents.
The tower siphons the majority of your arcane energies to reinforce the boundary, but in return provides life support functions. You will never starve, never age, never grow sick; never die, until you are relieved of your duties. It has been 129,373 years, 193 days.
What would you like to do today? >just go back to sleep >tinker with magical constructs in the workshop >go to the study to reread something >step outside the tower and stare into the void >write in
Previous Threads: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=The%202nd%20Primarch%20Quest _ You are a man known by many names, bequeathed many titles and accolades, and holding many offices of great renown and importance. By birth you are the second born primarch, a son of the emperor of mankind, by lifestyle and choice you are a philosopher who meditates upon the mists and winds, a hunter of the wild with few peers, an opponent of all that is tyrannically and evil in the universe, friend of mankind in all of its forms and a fair few alien lifeforms as well, and lover of a woman formed of a thousand souls who brought the breath of life to your homeworld of Shangrala. But whatever titles one ruses efers to you, what poetic sobriquets are gifted to you, and whichever art-names you earn through your travels and heroic deeds, the most fitting and truest name given and description given to you is the one you've gave yourself the day you named yourself.
Having at last returned to the world you descended to in an egg of stone like a falling star, and declared to be your home and under your protection, from the world where your brother Angron fell and was enslaved to the sadistic pleasures and bloodthirsts of the tyrannical high riders, and having given him a tour of your fair home and traveled to the furthest reaches of its mists where no Long-Jian man has walked before to help bring the peoples who lived their, once unknown to your people, to the standards of living and technological progress of the rest of the civilized nations of Shangrala, meeting two new breeds of humanity, the Oracle breed and semi aquatic Lomb as you traveled as a teacher and taught these less advance nations how to use the gifts of knowledge and tools you brought to them.
But while you busied yourself in uplifting and mentoring these distant races so they could join with the rest of a unified Shangrala, your mind began to be troubled as your studious nature uncovered an unsettling pattern concerning the creation and revolt of artificial intelligences. Your friend and student, Carys, formerly of a farseer of Ulthwe before she devoted her life to practicing the lessons of the Journey, advised you to seek answers with her elder and senior in both age and the path of the seer, Eldrad Ulthran, whom had, after a debate, assisted you in finding your way to and even, according to your dear friend Long-Jia Jinhai, lead the volunteer armies of Shangrala to Nuceria. Assistance of which you are grateful he lent, and the trust he still grants you by allowing you access to the labyrinth dimension. Trust that was the tumbling stone that lead to the avalanche that was the freeing of Angron and the liberation of Nuceria. You owe him greatly, but owing a debt is no reason not to seek the wisdom of a sagacious mind like Ulthran's. cont
In the waning of the Elder Days, when the fields and spires of Beleriand yet rose proud above the waves and the mighty Noldorin kings dwelled in their secret cities, the Dark Lord looked upon his black armies of orcs and found them wanting. Though great in number and savagery, their weaknesses were many and easily exploited. Short, weak, often dim-witted and with an aversion to brightness, especially the sort which was blessed, Melkor knew he could not hope to defeat the mighty hosts of the Noldor with such pitiful creatures. A greater servant, one that could withstand the silvered swords and darts and lances of his enemies and strike fear into their hearts, that could drive them back with terror and searing flame, was needed.
In the fell pits of Angband where nameless, formless abominations grew and changed as their master willed, Melkor took living stock and set to work. By his ministrations his victims were reformed beyond recognition, body and mind warped so completely that they no longer shared even the vaguest kinship with their unaltered brethren beyond Angband’s reach. Instead their bodies submitted to Melkor’s needs, growing great horns and wicked spurs, barbed hides and claws that could rend the very stone. As they bred and inbred, their offspring grew closer and closer to Melkor’s vision of perfection until at last his efforts bore fruit, and his dark heart was made glad at the sight of it.
And so, in the closing days of the First Age, Melkor created the first dragons.
Even now their devastation is legendary. For centuries Melkor’s finest soldiers wreaked all manner of havoc upon Middle-Earth at his command. The burning of Nargothrond and Gondolin at the claws of the crawling drakes still weigh like a black cloud upon the hearts of elves the world over. Tales of the deceit of Glaurung and the sheer enormity of Ancalagon the Black make grown men shudder in their skins. From Angband to the havens they writ their legacy in fire and the blood of men, elves and dwarves alike.
But their like is not in the world today. Glaurung and Ancalagon were slain. The Valar and their host cut short the flight of the first winged dragons even as they laid low the very continent beneath them. As the greatest <span class="mu-i">urulóki</span> plummeted from the sky and the chorus of leathery wingbeats was supplanted by the cries of eagles, a scant few of the least of their kind escaped to far-off lands in the north. The dragons of the modern day, descended from these ancient survivors, are a mere echo of a memory of those that came before.
Yet the old histories are still passed by word of mouth from parent to hatchling, and the vestiges of past greatness still kindle the old fire in the breasts of young dragons.
This’ll be my first go as a QM and I believe it’ll be a first for ranger’s apprentice here as well. As it is my first I’ll be relying on some good feedback to make sure I’m doing a sufficient job so please don’t hold back.
>The Setting You’re living in the recently instituted Mandragor Fief in the Kingdom of Araluen 30 years after the death of Will Treaty. The fief is located on the Uthal plains north of the mountains of rain and night. The town is buzzing with optimism day in and day out, with everyone working their hardest to develop the new fief and prove their worth to the kingdom. Due to the mix of people from all over that came to populate the fief (generally people of high standing) the people enjoy a higher than normal standard of living. The current king is Duncan ll and all previous treaties/alliances are annulled, however there’s no current conflict. Book knowledge won’t be too necessary to follow along as I’ve taken some creative liberties and also won’t be using anything from the royal ranger onwards.
>Your Character Your name is Gideon Page, a half Araluen half Toscani boy. Your family moved here from Redmont fief to experience a new frontier with the prospective annexation of the mountains, rumored to be home to hidden treasures stowed away from past conflicts.
One day not long after finally getting your meager belongings set in the humble home your parents were able to secure. Your father was asked here by Baron Cormac for his skill, he was well known in some circles for his forging. Your mother found work in the Baron’s castle, helping direct the kitchen staff and handle guests. The only person who was struggling to adapt to the environment was your older brother Beren, you rarely saw him in the first week as he spent most of his free time away from your parent’s and the home, preferring instead to explore the surrounding woods. Before long he was returning home with small game for your mother to cook. Over time you all settled and about a year later when at the age of nine your parents approached you offering to bring you along with them to their jobs so you may begin finding your own way in the world. Who did you choose to shadow?
>Go with your father to assist with his work as a blacksmith >Go with your mother to serve nobles in the castle >Go hunting with your brother >Wander town and mingle
You awaken standing, triumphantly, short sword in hand, along a grass field... in the middle of nowhere. Suddenly a cold wind passes by and you are embarrassed by your epic stance, for some reason.
Who are you, and where the hell is this place?
<span class="mu-s"><span class="mu-i">Welcome to</span>A Crude Quest. <span class="mu-i">In this quest, any poster can continue the story, the only requirements being they were the first one to respond to the last post, and that they include a hand drawn image related to their response. Have fun! </span></span>