Welcome to /qtg/, a place to talk about quests.
Previous thread
>>5933504

>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] + [no. of sides in a dice]

Example: dice+1d100 = a 1d100 roll

Spoiler: spoiler or by pressing alt+s in-thread

>QM question:
It's Spring Cleaning time! What are some writing/questing habits you're having trouble shaking?

>Player question:
When clicking on a new quest, what kind of things make you keep reading? What kind of things turn you away?

>General question:
Do you have any plans for spring? Any big shake ups, or business as usual?

>Lurker question:
Would a firmer board culture make your more or less likely to vote?

https://twitter.com/ThunderheadQM

Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Halo:%20Wolfpack
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Your prize hangs in the void.

A massive, three kilometer long vessel. It’s bulbous, manta-ray like hull sitting silent and practically inert. Its weapons batteries are silent and its engines sit idle. If it wasn’t, then it would have been contemptuously easy for the vessel to turn your ship into a burning hulk in only a few minutes. And on your own, there wouldn't have been much you could have done to fight back. It’s massive, alien form a harbinger of doom, a fact reinforced by a rap sheet of burned worlds.

It is a covenant CCS class battlecruiser.

A part of you feels privileged already. Very few humans come this close to one of the covenant’s mainline warships, and live to tell the tale. Of course, a lot of that is simply down to the fact that the ship’s own computers had been turned against the crew. The first they’d known of that fact, had been when the air itself had been rendered poisonous, killing anyone that wasn’t wearing a personal air system. Which coincidentally meant that the command cadre had been wiped out, while only the lowest ranking members of the crew had been left alive.

The remaining members of the crew would need to be wiped out. Every room, on every deck, of every section of the 3 kilometer long ship. And already, the various other commanders and marine officers were debating the topic. How many men would be needed? How would they be deployed? And how would you command the ship once it’d been cleared? Those questions and more were being bounced around between various groups in your flotilla. But for now, you are content with simply admiring your recent handy work.

You are commander Norman Wells, and surprisingly enough, this isn’t the first time you’ve stolen something from the split lips.

>Catch up on the commander's conversation. What are your fellow officers concerned about?
>Listen in on the marine briefing. How are they planning on taking the ship?
>Ask your AI about the situation aboard the cruiser. After all, she’s the one with a strangle-hold on their computer systems.
>Other (write in)

As the war rages on, the 14e Escadre Mixte "Liberté" in it's fight against the Prußenmark has suffered a harsh loss due to the new Koerkamp D.IV “Havik”. Not due to the numbers of pilots lost but rather due to the quality of one who was killed in action. Despite having fought since the very beginning, or perhaps because of it, their time had run out. This would be bad enough if it wasn't for their connection with another, very important ace. Lieutenant-colonel Helene Valmont has decided to visit Escadron Vert personally with a plan to visit Violet after, and so far has found the worries of one pilot in the Escadron have at least some merit.

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

This is a continuation of the last Air Wing Commander Quest Thread. I plan on continuing this until real life kills me literally or metaphorically, you get yourself killed, or the war ends.

Past Threads
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=Air+wing

Doc with squadrons, pilots, information and the like.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1KT0JJxoLsbcNFC7RqtsWKke9iTnLQ8blSCf_8dZ4jWw/edit?usp=sharing

Pastebin with rules.
https://pastebin.pl/view/2ac1bf47

It is the year 404 AC and Westeros lies a broken land, ravaged by war, sickness and ambition for the
vacant Iron throne, from the ancient Wall in the north to the evergreen Rhoynar of Dorne, all lay claim to the Iron throne or those older kingships of the age of Kings. It is a time of chaos as the continent faces an
uncertain future as the only authority recognised by all is the sword, in such times a man can be anything he wishes, lowborn or high, rich and poor, he is only limited by the ebb and flow of fate and the reach and grasp of his ambitions.

But he makes what he does of it and only the gods know where he ends....
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Twitter:TBA When I get to it
Our Hero deeds & companions: https://pastebin.com/DxjYPx9X
Archive: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Westeros:Interregnum

You are perched on your sturdy Arabian stallion, scanning the horizon. The sun, a molten disc descending beyond the hills, casts a deep amber glow across the battlefield. Your fingers grip the curved hilt of your scimitar, its steel eager for blood. Ahead, the Crusaders falter, their formation breaking under the relentless onslaught of your fellow Muslim warriors.
“They are cowardly and weak, like sheep ready for slaughter,” you mutter to yourself, voice tinged with grim satisfaction. It’s a scene you’ve seen countless times—these invaders faltering in the face of determined resistance. You know the Holy Land better than they do; you were raised under its burning sun, tempered by its harsh deserts and rugged hills.
In a heartbeat, you kick your steed forward. The horse leaps, snorting eagerly, and in moments, you’re charging toward the fray, your blade arcing in deadly sweeps. The first Crusader falls before you can register his scream, his eyes wide with shock beneath his helm. The second drops with a gurgle, your scimitar severing his windpipe. A cry goes up, a desperate yell from the Crusader ranks, and they scatter like leaves before a desert wind.
“God is great!” You shout, rallying your men. The wind carries the chant across the battlefield, and you revel in the power it lends you, pushing you to strike down another infidel with swift finality.
The Crusaders came to these lands seeking glory and wealth, a misguided delusion that warps their sense of reality. They are like children, clutching at fantasies while ignoring the harsh truth of your scimitar. “This is our land,” you think, your breath heaving, muscles straining with each swing. “We will not yield.”
You glance to your left, where your commander leads the charge. His spear rises high, catching the sun’s dying light, and for a moment, you see it burn like a beacon, a rallying point for your people. You press forward, weaving through the battlefield, moving with the ease of one who knows these sands well.
Every swing of your blade is purposeful, every movement calculated. This battle will end with your victory because your cause is righteous, a cause that burns bright within you and your fellow warriors.

>>Who are you?
>Zayd ibn Khalid: A veteran warrior who grew up in Damascus, Zayd joined the Saracen forces to defend the Holy Land after witnessing his family's farmland burned down by Crusaders.
>Yusuf al-Fahd: Yusuf is the son of a respected emir and was trained from a young age in swordsmanship; he now leads a small cavalry unit in defense of Jerusalem.
>Salah ibn Omar: A former merchant who traded across the Levant, Salah was drawn into the conflict after the Crusaders occupied his trade routes, devastating his business.
>Kamil al-Rashid: A scout known for his keen eyesight, Kamil grew up as a nomad in the Syrian desert before joining the Saracen army to help fend off the Crusader invasions.
>(Other)

Not Spam! it’s a Streisand Check (#5)

This question keeps being removed on reddit and twitter, Like my accounts are permabanned without any votes or inquiring comments despite 1000s of views I just want some thoughts on the idea plz <3

NF is only human like us…

But

Do you think the Holy Spirit is using the NF song "That’s a Joke" to diss Lucifer Publicly lol

Like a Killshot Diss to Lucifer but in the spirit/chaos realm

You know since Jesus is being Mocked everywhere…

God does a Reverse Uno lol

God uses bad and turns it into Good all the time!

Will anyone atleast make fun of my siliness plz no one wants to talk to me =/

You are a weirdo, an absolute strange one. After a lightning strike against some magic clay, you were born. You have no name, no goals, and an entire world of poorly illustrated weirdos who each likely have their own schizophrenic wants and needs!

Our story begins on the road where you finally have your ego slip into your new form. No deity claims you, and you don’t know what to do with your hands. In the distance, you see a quaint village bustling with activity. Its inhabitants are just as bizarrely drawn as you, moving in peculiar, jerky motions as if they're part of a child's flip book animation.

Nearby, a crooked sign swings slightly in the wind. It reads 'Welcome to Twisty Hollow.' Just past the sign, a group of creatures, looking like a mix of turnip and human, argue loudly about the best way to grow magical carrots.

As you stand there, trying to make sense of this odd world, a small, scribbly cat with two heads, one smiling and one frowning, approaches you. The smiling head purrs and says cheerfully, 'Hello there! New to these parts? You look like you could use a purpose! The folks around here always need help with something. Maybe helping them will help you find your own path!' The frowning head adds grumpily, 'Or just create more confusion. They're a weird bunch, after all.'

Your hands still feel weird and awkward, but you decide it's time to interact with this strange world. The cat continues, 'If you're looking for something to do, I know a few troubled souls who could use a hand:

>Help the turnip-humans with their magical carrot cultivation problem.
>Assist the local baker, a floating loaf of bread, who seems to be missing some crucial baking ingredients.
>Investigate the mysterious singing coming from the old well on the edge of the village.
>Simply explore the village and see what other odd jobs you might stumble upon.
What will you do?

Anon, I'm giving you ten million dollars of my money.

You must invest all of it in the stock market at today's rate.

If you give me a positive return, I'll reward you handsomely.

But if you end up with less than what I gave you, I'll cut off your balls and feed it to my goats.

So, good luck.

>>Buy the shares
1. You must invest the entire amount
2. You can only buy stocks listed in the united states stock exchanges

Welcome into the stone-ice age of a far away unnamed star. After evolving in <span class="mu-s">The Crack</span>, the species known as Under Hunter reached Sapience and organized in tribes.
7 remains :
The fire-mastering Blanks of GrassGreen
The Assassin-tamers of Holey Moley Ghostclaw
The StrongHunters feodal lords of BurningGrass
The Tzeench-touch blanks of Jupiter
The Merchants of BadBack
The Lunar Dahu and Stove Grove farmers of Whitemane
The elusive trapmaker and History-recorders of Cerulean

The fourth matriarch have reach the end of their life expectancy.
For those of you which held a tribe's fate in your claw...
>How should your tribe develop? (don't forget to claim a name and a trip)

Interrested in joining? No spots yet for tribe. But you can still claim a name including "Lurker" and a trip if you want to interract with the game as events.

Pastebin : https://pastebin.com/LLBm1mjj
Last thread : https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2024/5917974/

The year is uncertain, perhaps the 24th century, but the future seems bright. A dozen spacefaring nations, seemingly hitting their technological stride at the same time, have walked forth into the dark cosmos and found it filled with other sentient life forms, strange new materials, and perhaps even a few ancient mysteries. Within a mere five cycles nations have become galactic empires, spread across as many as five stars. Machine life probes the nature of souls, ancient enemies are pursued, horrifying fuzzy enemies are plotted against. Unlikely alliances are struck as dark machines scream into the void. Only time can tell if which of these fledgling empires rise to greater might and which will crumble only to rusting ruins.

---

This is a Science Fiction themed Nation Roleplay where players take on the role of a fledgling spacefaring nation exploring the cosmos. <span class="mu-s">We’re currently full on players!</span> Turns are once a week with updates usually arriving on Sundays. The next update is expected to be <span class="mu-s">March 31. Please try to get your turn in a couple days early so I have time to write.</span> Each turn has two actions. Some actions take multiple turns to complete, typically research or cultural. You can check up on these things, along with your resources in:

THE SHEET: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1pga7xuLjf7-hUDuQH73ie0MZndbkjoLnQsbJM4-Czmk/edit?usp=sharing