Nine years ago King Aiden Perenolde betrayed the Alliance and sided with the Horde of Orgrim Doomhammer. Nine years ago Prince Alric Perenolde, the second heir of Alterac was sent into exile for his own protection. This exile turned permanent and Captain Normand Garside, your guardian for the past nine years made sure that you were safe and learned the useful skills that would help you in the future.

Now you are ready to carry the responsibility and unite the scattered Alteraci people and reclaim the lands that were once the Kingdom of Alterac.

Strahnbrad was a quiet city, as quiet as a city full of soldiers could be, no one said anything that didn't need to be said. The civilians minded their own minds and stayed out and away from the Syndicate business. And this all suited Eligius well. For the past two weeks he had been working as a scribe to Malgren, the leader of the Syndicate forces in Strahnbrad with his “wife” Pai the Assassin helping him with the work. This had gotten Eligius close, but not close enough, at least not yet.

Durnholde had turned silent as well. The ancient forests once full of gnolls and their bickering had ceased with the campaign having reached its goals. The gnolls were dead, their warbands and camps destroyed, leaders killed. What had gathered the different armies of Hillsbrad and Durnholde together had vanished under their combined might. But with the victories came questions and obstacles. How long is the reach of the Syndicate? Are they connected with the pool of Fel found in the forest and how many swords and blades did they really provide the gnolls with? For Prince Alric a lot was ahead of him, but he wasn’t the only one who was on a mission.

Welcome to Alterac Resurgent Quest!

…

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MedivhQM
/qst/ Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Alterac%20Resurgent%20Quest
Prince Alric Stats: https://pastebin.com/rysxdRsv
Quest Mechanisms: https://pastebin.com/CyD88qqf
Character List: https://pastebin.com/FkYd6wkJ
Side Character Stats: https://pastebin.com/aRfyksUG

The Demon King has won. The reach of his dominion extends far, and where it doesn’t, all that’s left for the unconquered is to despair and live out their bleak lives in obscurity. Demons and monsters live alongside humans, elves, dwarves and other races now, taking their tithe of blood to sustain the King’s and nobles’ immortality and oppressing the regular people of the world for their entertainment.

You remember when things weren’t like this. When noble adventurers and avaricious sellswords alike assembled into parties that destroyed armies of the Dark, leading their brethren in an existential struggle the likes of which this world has never seen.

Your army was one they defeated as well. A pivotal moment in your life that led to you getting relegated to the court instead of the battlefield. From a general to a minor noble pushing papers, all day every day.

It makes you sick.

So sick, in fact, that you’d rather bring back human rule than suffer like this any longer. Maybe they’ll send you back to Hell. Maybe they’ll kill you. Maybe they’ll let you live in exchange for help.

Either way, it’ll be more FUN than whatever you’re doing right now.

But where do you start on this project? You need to remain covert in your endeavours lest you get exposed and executed.

You could consult the Hero Register under a forged order. It lists all the exceptional individuals that surface around the Kingdom. Not comprehensive, and many of them are in hiding, but it is a clue.

You could also establish friendly contact with a governor of some province. Granting a blood tax cut through some inconspicuous paperwork for their own lifespan’s benefit could get someone on your side. You’d still have to come up with a reason for whatever you do later, though - the demons probably wouldn’t look kindly on trying to overthrow their rule.

Preparing a backup plan in advance is an option as well. Buying property somewhere far under someone else’s name to retreat and hide in case shit goes south would be a good idea.

Of course, there are other options to lay the foundation of your revolution…

You think about all the possibilities while absentmindedly signing yet another document:
>Write-in name (*you're male)

Actions
>Consult the Hero Register.
>Establish friendly relations with a governor. Default approach: Blood tax cut. Optional: Write-in another approach.
>Set up Plan B. Default approach: Buying property under someone else’s name to repurpose into a hideout. Optional: Write-in another approach.
>Write-in.

You can also ask me questions. I’ll be honest, I’m mostly improvising, but I’ll answer to the best of my ability. Puts some meat on the world lore as well.

See Our OCs' OCs Edition

>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

A deeper explanation of rules, related pages, and whatnot can be found here:
https://rentry.org/tmd2many_rules

>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.

Character sheets and the guide to making them can be found here: https://rentry.org/tmd2many_characters

If you feel you might need help, feel free to ask!

Previous threads and summaries can be found here:
https://rentry.org/tmd2many_days

Our LIVE main adventures start on Tuesdays/Saturdays around 6:30PM CST in this thread!

Namefag as your character, with your item and level!
e.g. Sparks, Lv. 56 Pikachu
e.g. Sparks L.56 (Sneak Scarf/Team Shock)

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

Patmo-Shoka.

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.

Now, it's time to fight back.


==

Last Thread
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6216903/

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?”

[1/3]

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 ].