The gates of Felcross are behind you now. The city where you were raised, the city of your first failures and rare achievements, the last great city on the way east. You look back, as if to say goodbye. There is nothing of worth left for you there, only your bickering family and your more successful peers.
You are a wanderer now. On your belt is a sword, on your back - a bag with tools, travelling gear, some money - whatever was left after your purchases - and rations. They won't last long, but you'll think of solving this later. Two javelins fit nicely in the quiver, slung over your shoulder close to the travelling bag.
Barely a man, not a youth, you start down one of the roads. You don't know much of the world, but you've had dreams. Dreams of power, people bowing to your might, of... freedom, to do what you want, however indulgent your desires may be. Of immortality, like in the tales of the Flower Harbringer and the Collector of Names.
They are far away, but one who doesn't begin his journey will most certainly never see its end.
You possess basic ability in the way of the sword and the javelin, having been given basic training for the militia, like any able man of the kingdom. You also know your way around the streets, courtesy of your upbringing. You can repair and take care of your weapon, and know the basics of crafting, having helped around the smithy for a time. You think you can survive on the road and subsist if need came. That's about all you are capable of.
You heard the road east leads to the frontier, the outlands. Not completely devoid of settlement, it is, nevertheless, a dangerous place - some of the monsters manage to sneak into the heartlands of the kingdom of Hien, not to speak of these wild lands, where they may have greater reign. Their distance from the heartlands means all kind of folk flock there, sometimes good in heart, but often dark. It also means greater freedom, whatever the cost. At least, that's what the caravans and travellers from that land told you when they passed through Felcross.
"Only madmen go east," your grandpa once said spitefully. "Those that don't know the worth of a family at your back or a proper home you can return to." Didn't stop one of your elder brothers from going there. Didn't stop you.
The road is calm for a few days as you pass by caravans going west. You didn't have enough money to buy your place in one, so you're going alone.
After the sun sets on the 4th day of travel, you consider making camp, like the previous days, but see a light further down the road. Approaching closer, you see a person sit by the campfire, a man, if you read their build correctly. He doesn't seem to have noticed you, tinkering with something in his hands. A tent is pitched nearby, and a spear rests by the fire. The faint scent of herbs and medicine drifts in the air. The smoke, too, of course. (1/2)
It all happened very suddenly. One day, the outpost gets news of at least three different coups in the Galactic Federation, then the next day there is only hyperlink silence. Comms were cut off with the Feds and people scrambled in a panic.
Helian Beta, your home, was the only populated planet in this star system, under the authority of Sector Xin’an. It’s a liveable planet, though far warmer and arid than most other liveable planets, many of the people living here would barely consider that the moniker “liveable” is at all deserved.
Still, humans can breathe here, so they can also work here. Mining outposts were established all around the planet’s largest continent, Continent Alpha, which was itself surrounded by various subcontinents and islands, the whole set of land was then surrounded by the Helian Beta Ocean, which covered the rest of the planet.
Life was good enough in your little outpost, Gaspost V, the dreariest part was living in the planet itself. Mining work was mostly done through advanced machines, but the workers had to supervise them, so miners still felt like miners, they got just as dirty as the equipment did after all. The outpost was in charge of digging into a source of gas that could be used as fuel, heating and electric appliances after refinement.
You are the Syndical Leader of Redstone V, in charge of ensuring the rights of the miners. Your name is Alexander Redstone.
It’s only been a few days since the comms cut. Everyone expected them to return after a bit, but they didn’t. Much as you prod the hyperlink station and checked frequencies, you still got nothing. You puff from your cigarette and let out the smoke with an irritated puff.
It’s really that bad, isn’t it? You’d been syndical leader for five years, you just got the hang of the job a few months ago. Everything was going well, you’d get comfy, finally take the time to find a partner, get some kids going, enjoy life as best you can.
Now this. You take a big puff and finish off that cig, then smash it into the ash tray by the hyperlink station.
“Alex, it’s about time we did something.” You hear the voice of your assistant, miss Ivy Fielder, as she enters the room with her usual pristine uniform. A young lady with a diligent mindset and an ambitious streak. She’s your second-in-command, but she’d probably climb much higher in the ladder than you. Still, it seems her ambitions were dashed now.
“It is.” You reply, then let out a long sigh. You look out the window from your Gaspost V Administrative Building office. The outpost is quiet, most of the townsfolk have gone off to work the mines one more day, their kids in school. The buildings rise out of windswept drylands, as does the outpost’s outer wall, built to keep wild critters out and wild children in.
You watch as whirlwinds of sand and dust rise from the pavement below. Could it really happen this fast? To lose contact with the entire federation in just a few days? Is there even a federation anymore?
Hello! I found a thread on /lit/ dedicated to some "Code 7" and people there are writing weird comments about some "The Archivist" and prayers. Here's a link to it. Does anyone know where this originated from or what it means? Anyone interested can take a look: >>>/lit/24865816
Grand Zen-Oh, the omni king and ruler of the omniverse has declared there will be a massive tournament to be held in his honor. A grand affair between several universes, each battling it out for the very right to exist. And at the forefront of this grand spectacle will be the Saiyans of Universe 7, who Grand Zen-Oh has grown fond of watching battle. Twenty eight years ago, the Saiyan race were annexed into the PTO as just another race, one of many sent to conquer other worlds. Now, the Saiyans are widely regarded as the strongest warrior race in the entire Seventh Universe, defenders of the PTO led by their strongest, the “Dragon of New Salda” General Karn and his family.
You the players will (most often) control Karn. A man who has grown from his lowly beginnings as a Saiyan Brawler with a sub-3000 powerlevel in Age 733 to become not only the strongest Saiyan of his time at AGE 759, but also personal friend to the former emperor Lord Freeza, father to well over a dozen powerful and unique children, a mentor and teacher to his fellow Saiyans, and the best hope for his universe's continued survival. No one warrior can hope to battle eight other universes' strongest fighters alone and hope to prevail, one man's power and skill won't be enough to overcome the looming threat of extermination. But this coming battle will be the ultimate test of how you've lived your life until now, the choices you made not only for yourself, but for the fate of your entire universe.
Quest rules are as follows(unless otherwise noted): >30 minute vote times >Pick ONLY ONE option when voting >Dice rolls are all best of three correctly-rolled dice >At ten minutes past your previous roll, and there are not yet enough rolls, you may roll an additional roll >Crits are 100 on a d100 >99s or paired rolls may net you extra bonuses >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 also find me on twitter @GrandDragonQM, which I keep as up to date with any scheduling changes.
I don't know where to ask about these things, but for a while I've been having sleep paralysis, and these episodes have been intense. One of them involved dreaming that a long-haired girl was dragging me through water. Another one was that they were treating me like a puppet and throwing me from one side to another in a room. The most recent one I had was that a small skull with some hair was trying to get into my mouth, but I used all my strength to keep my mouth closed.
PRELUDE In the third decade of the 21st century, the nations of Mankind contested Cislunar Space, the vast darkness that begins 35,000 kilometres above Earth in geosynchronous orbit, approaching beyond 380,000 km to reach the surface of the Moon.
Dis iz a tale not like any 'eard befor! S'got Epik WAAAAGHS, 'Uge Choppas, da Dakkiest Shootahs, shiniez a'plenty, proper skrapz , brutal krumpin, Ladz boaf weird an ded ard! S'even got a Gork an Mork innit !
All'n'All, itz Rite Legendery!
An' da best part iz, dat t'all appened! 'onest!
It beginz a long time 'go, on a wee planet umiez kalled "Hi-raethe". But dats stoopid. Da Orks 'ad a bettah name for it. But dats me gettin' heada myself. Dey say it wuz green, but not even orky. Da Umiez there herded squigs a'plenty. but deez humiez wuz week! Datz wut da Pink Spikey boyz fort! They kame in an krumped most a da week umiez, an took da tuff wunz. Den, dey grinded up da squigs to a powdah, an snorted it. But da blue an yellow beakiez 'ated dat. dey came over and gave da pink spiky boys a gud thrashin. but befor dey wuz all squashed, da Pink spiky boys sent out a call to WAAAAAGH, and da ovva Spiky boyz listened gud. Dey kame ovah, and beet da tar out da beakies. One ting led to anovva, and da hole of da planet was stomped flat. All dose ships krashed down on da now brown an dusty planet dat de Orks kall "Skrapheep"! Now datz a gud name!
'Ang on it getz bettah!
Wun day, a sertain tribe wuz undah attak by freebootahs, but da tribe... dey 'ad a trikk up dere sleeve, in de vent of a mergency such as diz.
A cave full to da brim with fresh yoofs, ready to spring up an throttle dem freebootahs. An wun a deez Yoofs wuz...
'Old on, I've... lost it. Zog.
Wate! Dont go, I hav it now. Da tribe and yoof wuz...
You are a powerful magician who was once an adventurer. After amassing a large fortune, you recently finished building a tower near a small village. Now is the time for you to begin your research, whatever you're interested in researching.
Select race of your villagers.
Select name, gender and type of magic of your magician (can be any element or combination of elements)
Select one unique perk for your magician (could be special backstory, an unusual ally, membership in a strange society, a powerful artifact, etc)
