>What is this? "The Mystery Dungeons 2e" is a text-based role-playing game created to expand on the setting created by the spinoff series, Pokémon Mystery Dungeon. This has no story relation to the first quest, and is its own new story. Players still isekai themselves into the world and become Pokémon, going on adventures with their newfound guild mates! SFW ONLY
>I'd like to participate! Currently, we're at full capacity as far as threads on /qst/ are concerned. However, there's always the chance that space for another player may grow in the future, or that you simply wish to play outside of /qst/ and the quests hosted here. There are other ways to participate, about which you can learn and do here: https://matrix.to/#/#the-mystery-dungeons-2nd-edition:matrix.org
>Okay, now what? After you've read up and familiarized yourself with the rules and setting, be sure to hop into the Element: https://matrix.to/#/#the-mystery-dungeons-2nd-edition:matrix.org. Everything that doesn't involve Main Quests occurs here and is helpful for coordination.
In the land of Orrosta, the old gods are stirring once more. The wrath cycle, a never ending war for control over the planet, starts anew. Drakkaru, (the god of dominion) thought to be dead by the other gods, is nearly free of the prison which has bound him for so long, and the Bellatists, (those who worship him), are gathering their strength. Cultists, full of hatred and malice, or perhaps simply stupidity, perform dark rituals of void, allowing for horrid creatures to escape their confinement. The horsemen of death and bloodshed ravage the land, leaving little but destruction. New elemental lords emerge, ready to consume the world. Yet, some good does stand. Mechaine (The god of machines, innovation and commerce), prepares the tin heads and men of iron, to strike out against the corruptive forces. Selene and the sons of Solantis work to uphold virtue and honor in the hearts of men. In this endless struggle, small forces can tip the balance. Can a ragtag group of adventurers discover the true nature of the world, and finally put an end to the wrath cycle? This is a very loosely structured sandbox adventure, set in a world of my making. The sky is the limit for what can be done. If you wish to join, just give me a brief overview of your character, and we can work to make it in line with the lore of the world. I intend to properly start in roughly 3 days, so ensure you submit a character before then if you want to join. I did attempt to do this once before, but 4chan was hacked, so here is attempt two. (Another note. If you wish to play a spellcaster, depending on the spellcaster, you will need to put in a lot of legwork into making spells, since some magic is very open ended. Also, when I say sandbox, I mean that nothing is going to happen unless you try to initiate it, so if you do not want a world where you have to instigate things, this is not the quest for you. There are plenty of storylines available, but you have to prod around a bit to find em.)
You are a cell. You are living your best cell life, just doing cell things, like replicating, growing and metabolizing, synthesizing proteins, and moving around. Then, suddenly, one day, one of your neighbor cell starts doing unusual things. Your neighbor cell is spreading out and pushing up into your space. Is this allowed?
What are you going to do about it?
>Mind your own cell business as usual >Try to interrogate the neighbor cell for more information >Give your neighbor cell your mitochondrias >Kill the offending neighbor cell
Once upon a time, the facility had been a sacred secret of the people of Yakh-Yubh, a primordial race of the ancient Earth. Marrying their peoples’ mastery of runic arts with the bio-alchemical and spiritual arts of the Gods Above, they had turned this inauspicious facility into the cradle of civilizations which would long outlast them: those which the world knows as Dwarf, Gnome, and Halfling, among others. In time, they forgot their ancestors, their origins. They forgot the price they paid.
They forgot those whom they left behind.
This world is full of such forgotten things. Some are kept secret by concerted conspiracy—old shames, terrible truths. Many more simply fall by the wayside, when they have outlived their usefulness to gods and kings.
A warrior race of mongrel folk—neither beastman nor demihuman, neither wholly Dark nor Light—created to wage a war long since settled.
The Unseelie outcasts of the chaotic good Wild Gods—immortal True Fey, cut off from their creators’ love for ancient crimes against their own kind, and for practicing their cherished freedom in untoward ways.
A bastard child of a bastard child, a demigod half-shaped and misbegotten, with mind and body in such external flux that it can never know true peace.
Those who the people of Patmo-Shoka knew as barbarians, though they were so very alike: the goblinoid lineages whose powerful kin denied them the gift of magic, of the soul, and of a life beyond this mortal coil and a fate beyond scraping for scraps on the outskirts of polite society.
But just because one is denied a destiny, it doesn’t mean one dies. Things which are cast aside sometimes have a bad habit—wicked, worrisome, and perhaps just a little admirable—of clinging on, and coming back…
For <span class="mu-r">better</span>. Or for <span class="mu-g">worse</span>.
You are Marnie, of no last name, and you want nothing more than to escape your artificial life. For the last several weeks, you’ve been training alongside your Digimon Partner, Phascomon, and have recently bonded enough to unlock the secret of Digivolution.
With the combined strength of you and your allies, you seek to ascend The Tower and defeat its mighty guardian, so you can leave City 87-O and live your life as a human should; out there in the real world.
But first, you have to survive the many threats coming your way, whether they take the form of hostile Digital Lifeforms, or the iron claw of the City’s enforcement units.
Where last your story left off, you entered a network subsystem in search of your missing friend— enigmatic Code Cracker Doc Cracker. With the help of a City-employed pair of Digimon that you threatened into cooperation, you managed to locate him, as well as the old enemy of yours that abducted him.
An uneasy feeling creeps over you as you spent long hours sitting at Barbeau’s bedside, slowly settling in until it becomes inescapable. It takes you a while to realise just what the feeling is. Looking at Barbeau’s face – haggard and worn, brought to the edge of destruction by what he experienced here – feels somehow like a premonition, a glimpse at your own future. Still, you endure the grim feeling for the sake of learning what Barbeau knows, what he’s able to tell you in his rare moments of lucidity.
Time passes, hours turning into days, but you pay little attention as it creeps by – until, that is, your patience finally hits its limit.
Walking on stiff, aching limbs, you skulk back to the company dormitory and all but slam the door behind you. A few eyes turn your way, disinterested employees glancing up at the sudden sound. Ignoring them, you march towards one of the bedrooms at the rear. As you walk, your foot clips against a footlocker carelessly left jutting out into the open. It doesn’t hurt at all, considering your heavy hiking boots, but it’s enough for your temper to flare. With a snarl, you kick the container across the room with a loud bang, scattering the meagre contents across the dorm.
“Isambard!” Alex scolds, looking up from his book. He sees something in your face, then, and the sharpness fades from his eyes. Quickly rising from his chair, he grabs your arm and pulls you away from the staring eyes. Ushering you into one of the bedrooms and firmly shutting the door behind him, he looks you up and down. “What’s wrong?” he asks, before sighing, “Isambard… when was the last time you ate anything? Or slept?”
“I’ve slept enough,” you lie, waving away his concerns.
“What is it, then?” Alex continues, concern darkening his face, “Did Adrian say something?”
“Adrian didn’t say a damn thing!” you spit, “He doesn’t know anything about the Stryx, about anything. This whole trip was a waste of time.”
“Oh come on, lad! Adrian and his wife are alive because of us,” he retorts with a frown, “Two lives saved. I’d hardly call that a waste of time.”
“Two lives saved, but how many people died because of us? Because of me?” you hiss, lowering your voice to a whisper. Ossian’s words surface in the dark waters of your mind as Alex falls silent. For all their sins, the real trouble only started when you arrived. “Madness and death follow wherever I go, Alex,” you continue, “Will I be swallowed up by it too, one day? Will any of you?”
A strangled gasp desperately claws at air, forcing oxygen into needy lungs that have not felt its embrace in long months. The ragged, animalistic inhale enunciates to the world that you still live. The cold air you greedily suck in burns your throat like swallowing shards of razor glass. Your world is pain, but pain is good, pain means there is still life in your body, and you have survived this forced resuscitation. As soon as you’ve flooded your body with much-needed oxygen, your chest spasms violently, wracking your frame as wet coughs replace the gasp.
Locked in a cycle that oscillates between deep, hungry inhales and violent coughing fits, your eyes open and see nothing. The darkness is complete and total. You spy no source of light in the void that wrestles against the inevitability of night. Your mind is dull and numb. It still lagging from your awakening, struggling to do anything more than its base functions. Cold enshrouds you, wrapping you within its horrid embrace. Goose pimples cover your naked flesh as the chilled air caresses you, sucking out all your natural warmth. Teeth chatter within your mouth, and you crawl up into an even tighter foetal position; your body is trying and failing to beat back the cold that has infected your soul.
As the icy numbness recedes, the pain returns, coating every inch of your body like a cruel reminder of your suffering. You spasm wildly as pain intermittently shoots through different parts of your body, mimicking lightning never hitting the same spot with the agony-inducing stab, at least never hitting the same place twice in a row. Each involuntary twitch is confined, restricted, and imprisoned; the movements are halted from completion by an unyielding force.
Still blind, you register the constraints that bind you, with the realisation you fight against them like a rabid Sullus-Tiger. Pushing upwards in an attempt to get to your feet, you shove your face into metal wire that does not give. Your hands blindly claw at the cage that keeps you pinned to the ground, fingers fruitlessly fight the durasteel. They fail to find a weakness or to scythe through the metal. Now you notice you are not even able to lie straight, your cage has you trapped in this foetal position with only a few inches of space on any side. Kicking at the prison, you are as successful as a child stomping in protest against their parent. The woven metal that holds you captive will not break under your hopeless, infantile assault.
Inside the underground city of Bauk, the air is sparse, the food small ration tablets that taste like nothing while the water tastes like iron, everything is dusty and cold and the only light is from precious filament lamps that flicker while moths fly to their deaths in it's warmth, a luxury you could never have. Humanity is buried, kilometers of tunnels and bunkers above your head, and the light of the sun is only a myth, told by the elders from a distant age before the surface was nuked and iradiated from endless centuries of war. As just a youngling, at the tender age of 13, you once dreamed of seeing the surface, the warm light of the sun, fresh air that fills your lungs and clear water that chills you to the core, the scenery of trees, mountains, lakes, but those have since faded away into the harsh reality of scrapping by what little rations you have to live to the next day. But there's still hope for luxury, for a life that's not dusty and dry and cold, of clean clothes and a good bed after a warm bath, of real food and good-tasting water. You want to be a [ red ]mercenary[ /red ].
Famine came not like a storm loud and sudden but like a slow curse, creeping through the soil, hollowing out the grain, and turning every promise to dust.
The land that once fed your ancestors golden fields and stone granaries withered under the weight of hunger. The lords of the old kingdom, bloated and blind, slammed the gates shut and barred the roads. They kept what was left for themselves.
You and your kin were cast out peasants deemed unworthy of the last harvest.
You wandered, days and nights, until you reached the edge of the known world where no banners fly, where the spirits whisper freely, and where the land is still untamed.
Here, you have found a place. Scarred. Wild. Full of danger and full of potential.
You must build a home, defend your people, and carve your tribe’s name into the world. The gods watch. The beasts stir. Other tribes already smell blood.
Your people have nothing and therefore, everything to gain.
Where have you settled?
>Ashen Wastes- Blackened volcanic badlands with fertile ash soil in valleys. Rich in obsidian and rare minerals.
>Sunforge Plateau- Windswept highlands rich in copper and iron, but with thin, rocky soil. Excellent for fortresses, poor for farming.
>Stormbreak Coast- Rocky seaside cliffs constantly battered by waves; excellent fishing and trade potential, but weather is brutal.
Amon G. Sus, an Unovan homeless teen is on an all expenses paid vacation to Alola. He is exploring, exploring the town, exploring the girls, and exploring his skills as a trainer. But what will happen next?
>Previously Amon and "Kiryu", the delinquent Alola League Champion in disguise are using the Battle Carnival to train Amon in tactics. They are in a heated double battle against a Kadabra and a Stunfisk against Amon's Croagunk and Kiryu's rental Comfey.
Foongus: Timid and cowardly, you met him at age 7 when foraging for food. You thought he was a Pokeball due to hunger and he ended up crying due to being afraid. You gave him a last morsel of food to calm him down and he followed you into the city. Now your bros for life. He's more brave during battles as long as its not TOO rough. Ability: Effect Spore Mega Drain Stun Spore Sweet Scent And Clear Smog
Castform: Was met a few months after Foongus. Some faggot with green hair saw you looking for shelter in the rain and offered you Castform to turn the days sunny after "hearing the voice of your Foongus...you meet weirdos amongst the homeless. It worked too! He gave you your original 6 Pokeballs too as means of apology for not being able to do more. You never saw him again. Castform is chipper and sunny! Which is odd given how much he feels like a bag full of water. He always tries to cheer you up! He is pretty bad at battles compared to the rest of your team. He lacks the "killer instincts" but he's loyal! Ability: Forecast Weather Ball Sunny Day Rain Dance
Croagunk: A spacey chill Pokemon you met him during training Castform and Foongus. You tried to battle him but he kind of just...laid on his back. You tried catching him and it worked. Then when a wild Purrlion tried to steal the berries you scrounged up he Low Kicked the fuck out of it and sent it running for the hills. He seems...odd. Very much at his own tempo and logic. You haven't exactly figured it out yet but he's still a loyal companion. Ability: Poison Touch Poison Sting Drain Punch Astonish Mud Slap
Sigilyph: Flew into town after a particularly bad storm hit through the desert region. Which happens from time to time. You rescued him from being stuck in a tree and he joined you in gratitude. He's the most protective and on guard of your Pokemon. His Whirlwind attack has kept wild pokemon at bay and Hypnosis has kept would be scroungers from taking your shit. Ability: Wonder Skin Hypnosis Whirlwind Air Cutter Confusion
