Totemists, one of the first lines of defense against the malicious and monstrous, famed slayers of Behemoths which are perhaps the most dangerous examples of such, and bridge to the domains of spirits and magic unseen. The role is not an easy one of course, but it must be done and has been since time before almost all written history.

You are Capran, young man of the Four Peaks mountains, pupil of Oranya Skystrike.

There has been a lot of unrest on the mountain slopes lately, the issue growing further with each day it seems, but with your teacher still guiding you, there will always be a way to deal with it the trouble.

Such as this post mimic, which stands on thin wood-splinter-like legs and angrily spears them into the ground beneath it at the failure of its ambush. You stand nearby your teacher and her friend Heyra, ready and willing to destroy this mimic.

Awful thing. You're rather happy you three are the one who found it rather than some poor patrol guard or villager.

>Cont

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.

Politely saying everything had gone to shit. King Varian in his melancholy and delusion had arrested Prince Alric for what he saw in Alric's part in Lady Katrana Prestor's attempt to wrestle the control of the Kingdom of Stormwind to herself. In reality Alric had been the voice of reason and tried to negotiate a peaceful solution to all this.

What had followed was a swift counter-coup and Malevus found herself being chased by a bunch of thugs wearing the King's tabards. Danger, intrigue and diplomacy filled her days as she was steadfast in her mission to rescue Alric.

And now she is on her way to the Stormwind Keep, into the Lion's Den to rescue the man she loves so much.


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 Sixth Thread of Fatale Albion!

<span class="mu-s">The Fatale Albion Thread Archive:</span>
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Fatale%20Albion

Unfortunately thread #5 wasn’t archived so I have to use archived.moe: https://archived.moe/qst/thread/6264085

<span class="mu-s">Other Threads by Lumina Canima:</span>
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=meguca+royale

<span class="mu-s">INTRO</span> (Please do not skip this)

◕ Fatale Albion is a Spin-Off of Lumina Canima’s “Meguca Royale”, taking place in the U.K. Three players are currently taking part in this game. They each will answer to their own prompts with their own characters. This Quest will have major spoilers for PMMM, so if you haven’t watched it yet and don’t want me to ruin it for you, watch it right now or else. If you still want to read and participate in this quest then I’ll have something to show you.


◕ In the previous thread: Abigail and Stephanie successfully stop a stabbing in school caused by a Familiar by using bravery, connections, and a rifle from the Victorian Era. They commiserate over the escalation that the Witch is causing, more violent and targeted actions will make the building inhospitable. Megan and Oliver decide to escalate in response by bringing guns to school.
In a different part of York, a girl named Emily is Contracted, smuggles a body, and enters her paradise with the help of a strange but helpful girl named Marisa.
Abigail is now asleep in class, Stephanie is going to cause a localised blackout, and Emily will explain her way of life.

<span class="mu-s">OTHER STUFF</span>

>Can I also join in the suffering?

I’ve decided that I’m accepting new players for now. Just fill in this Contract Form and you’ll be all set.

Name: (The name of your character. Shameless Self-Insert or not)
Appearance: (The garish looks of your character. Clothing descriptions are also welcome.)
Quirks: (Personality traits, how they behave. Examples of how they act in specific situations are good. This space is vague intentionally, but remember: Simplicity is power and Brevity is the Soul of Wit.)
Wish: (The Wish that you made with your Incubator. Your magical ability and theme is influenced heavily by your Wish. Make sure to be careful, some wishes have unforeseen consequences.)

Threads 1, 2, 3, 4, 5: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Halo:%20Spartan%202%20War%20Reports
Active Spartan Roster: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/12PTTzwcNVbQbIC101lrcrQQZKWhK3myTLWEQ0A1ybj8/edit?gid=0#gid=0
_
Sven-033's Qualities: [Special] Giant, [Special] Spartan-II, Maverick, Officer [Lieutenant], Wunderkind, Inspiring.
Sven-033's Advancement Paths: Brawler: Open Hand: 5/10 Bulwark: Unbreakable: 5/10 Grenadier: Plasma Wiz: 5/10 Shotgunner: 1| Diplomat 1/6 Infiltrator 2/6 Scrounger 2/6 Tactician 2 /6| Jotun 1/4
Sub objective Progress: Artificial Artisan 3/?| Blade Breaker 1/?
_
UNSC Skidbladnir (Razor Class Prowler)
UNSC Skidbladnir Crew Qualities: Eclectic
UNSC Skidbladnir Officers: Sensor Operator: Ensign Sonar Kobal, COM Officer: Ensign Kon Kiyomi. Navigator: Lieutenant Junior Grade Marisa Deluna, Weapons Controller: Lieutenant Junior Grade Valerie Faure. Pilots: Warrant Officer Bari Cook & Cadet Bernetta Coste
Spartans Aboard: Sven-033, James-005, Jorges-052. Nesta-097, Shika-108, Daisy-023. Naomi-010, Solomon-069, Malcom-059, Anton-044, Illya-077, Cal-141, and Soren-066 (Inactive/ Washout)
_
<span class="mu-s"> Current Mission: Mission 5: Operation: HVITSERK....Pending Completion/Result Calculation </span>
<span class="mu-s"> Primary Objective 1: Destroy the Einherjar Fleet and prevent any ships/ systems from falling into Covenant Hands...Success </span>
<span class="mu-s"> Primary Objective 2: Confirm the termination of or Capture and Secure the Einherjar General Codenamed "Whiteshirt"....Success </span>
<span class="mu-s"> Secondary Objective 1: Retrieve UNSC property from Einherjar Hands, if the opportunity presents itself....Success </span>
<span class="mu-s"> Optional Sub Objective 1: Win the battle with minimal friendly casualties (Less than 25% of the Squadron/ 5 ships). 3/5 (UNSC Shinigami, UNSC Dogfish, UNSC Uppercut)....Success </span>
<span class="mu-s"> Secret Objective 1: [File Decrypted] . Capture Whiteshirt's Halcyon & Experimental Exo-Skeleton Power armor </span>
<span class="mu-s"> Secret Objective 2: [File Decrypted] . Reach the Bottom of the [???] Ruins and bring back a souvenir, or several </span>
<span class="mu-s"> War Effort & Personal Rewards + advancements to Preferred Candidate Sven-033's Diplomat, Infiltrator and Tactician Advancement paths pending Mission After Action Report </span>
__

The smell of dried blood lingered on your upper lip as you laid flat and prone against the medical table, eyes tracking the numerous programs flashing above your eyes as the AI Rita ran what amounted to a diagnostic scan of your head, checking your brain activity and neural patterns for any abnormalities or damage. Checking yourself and Shika in to the medbay was the first thing you did once you'd been shuttled over from the Lawrence of Arabia to your own ship.
Cont

"We should keep moving and catch up to the NPC. My transformation only lasts a minute and we should make the most of it." You say motioning to the next cave entrance. Ryuji nods and tears his glaive free from the zombie just as Irene finishes her trance. The three of you regroup and begin to run through the cave system once more, all pretense of stealth lost. Not helping was the fact that Ryuji was constantly gushing and asking questions about your abilities.

"What else can you do? How long is the cooldown? What buffs do you get? Did the coat come with the costume?" He asks, eagerness overtaking any sense of restraint on his curiosity. "I don't know anyone who's ever gotten this far!" He concludes. You suppress a small sigh building up. You had expected him to explode with excitement given his love of the game but you hadn't really expected to see him get this excited. Still, you couldn't help but share a bit of his enthusiasm. How long had it been since you had eagerly spoken about the game with someone just as passionate instead of trying to avoid the conversation with non-answers? You pull back your helm, allowing it to fold back behind your head and somehow vanish causing Ryuji to let out a noise that sounded like a mix between a squeal and roar of excitement.

"It folds back..." He manages to eek out.

"It's on a 5 minute cooldown. So it's really more of a boss fight kind of ability though right now I don't think we have the luxury to hold back big CDs. While I'm in this form, these are considered two handed weapons." You say raising your fists. Ryuji's jaw drops.

"Waitwaitwait. You're dealing two hander damage with your fists alone? I've seen how fast you can swing those things and you're telling me they can hit as hard as a warhammer?" He asks.

"Yup. Only while transformed though. Untransformed I have the Brawler's [Powerful Fist] skill but it seems to scale better because I can't really wield anything else." You continue. "Also, I'm considered to be wearing light armored outside of my transformation and medium while transformed. Stacks with the bit of damage reduction my class gives. Class seems to give me a handful of abilities from other classes to pick from on level up but it seems to lean towards fighter and brawler skills." You pause for a moment. "But I get this feeling that there's more to it. Almost like the game is keeping note of what I do and adjusting for it. I got a weird quest regarding another player on the tutorial island and now I'm expected to grow under strife, whatever that means. For the moment it seems my class progression is locked until I meet some kind of requirement. Nothing about this class is straight forward and the power seems to compensate for it." You say, drawing your helmet back on. "If I'm honest...that's the fun part."

Spring, 200X. Evening.
_______

There is a ringing behind your ears. Your senses are dulled, and are wrestling with an internal static preventing you from regaining your grip on reality. For a moment you are stunned into forgetting the where and the why of the drama: that is what happens when you get caught in an explosion. Before numbness invaded your system a mysterious force smashed into the walls of your school. A villain appeared. You could never have predicted a villain showing up in your town of Hauteville.

You and your class had little time to react. The entity collided with the building at lightning speed; demolishing one side of the school a flashy figure appeared. <span class="mu-s">A rogue magical girl.</span>

The floor offers stability for your hands and knees to rely on, currently the most reliable object for support. The fuzz in your head vanishes at a snail's pace as teenagers scream in the chaos.

"This is revenge! I'm sick of being looked down upon! You only have yourselves to blame!" the magical girl reasons. She looks familiar. There must be some sort of supernatural barrier from being recognized; but her looks and tone invoke a visceral response to your psyche. "Where is she!?"

Clarity of mind returns little by little while the magical girl sows destruction. You also feel a mysterious energy inside you as well. Is it the sensation of your life in peril? Or something more?

One of the first shards of clarity returns: your name is Gana. In this world, there are good magical girls and bad magical girls with monsters in between.

Your reputation in school is known for:

>A girl from a pretty rich family. Richer than the normal standard in Hauteville. Materialistic, arrogant, antagonistic against classmates who have less. You have bullied others for having cheap clothes or bad makeup.
>A girl leading a clique in your part of school. You have been political with your classmates; others that stand against you often find life hell afterwards. Intriguing, manipulative, antagonistic to rebellion.
>A girl frequently envious of others. You are a popular talk for boys; you exude a need for attention and hate it when someone prettier comes along. Contenders frequently run into bad rumors about themselves, in class and over the net. Vain, shallow, antagonistic to modesty.
>write-in
______

<span class="mu-s">Magical girl Encountered: Montesinos, the Indignant Magical Girl</span>

Your sprained ankle barely carrying you. The dull throbbing pain in your head at least numbs the pain in your shoulder and forearms. Though it does little to quell the pain in your side from your broken ribs. You glance over to the group of people behind you. Dressed in black school uniforms, roughly a dozen of them.

They are all standing roughly ten-fifteen feet behind you. Looking at you with hate, and some fear in their eyes. They are clumped up together like posing for a group photo, and do not advance on you. Even though they've been kicking the hell out of you a minute ago. Then a long shadow descended from the direction the sun was setting, and covered you all. Forcing them to back off as if something physically pushed them away.

"Go on! Get out of here!" their leader yells, but does not cross the long shadow.
Whatever curses leave your mouth, they are barely a whisper, you cough as you continue. Away from them, away from your home. Following the distant figure that casts that long shadow.

You look down upon yourself, and verify that your strongest asset is still there, surviving the battering.

>Your fist, you always had the meanest right punch
>Your leg, it started with kicking ball and soon it became kicking people
>Your abs, rock hard and keeping your organs mostly protected, helping stamina
>Write-in

“HAHAHA, FOOLISH HEROES, KNEEL BEFORE MY GRAND MAGIC!”

Your skeletal body, adorned in robes that have lived longer than any human has breathed, lords over the fallen party of heroes. Your ultimate <span class="mu-s">Origin Magic</span>, though incomplete, has proven more than sufficient to take on the pathetic mortals sent to their knees before its might. Miasma-smoke fills the room, spewed by the necromantic fire left in the wake of your destructive magnum opus. However, to your incredible satisfaction, the Holy Sword itself, the only weapon capable of striking you down, lies corroded beneath the hero’s tattered frame, little more than a sparkly pile of smoldering slag.

Yes, your ultimate victory has been achie–

Pain unlike any you’d ever imagined stabs through your very being, a thin, needle-like blade jutting out from the cluster of mana animating your undead body, destabilizing it, causing your very being to quiver and weaken. Something is wrong— something is very, very wrong. . You collapse to the floor, your head snapping 180 degrees back to see just who had landed the killing blow. If your eyes could widen, they would: the Hero Michael, who you had thought collapsed in front of you, stands proudly behind you with an unknown blade in your back.

“H-how?”

“Lich King Atrebor,” the hero declares, his obnoxious condescension shamelessly leaking into his words as he drives the blade even further through your ribs, “you may have been wary of me, the possessor of the Holy Sword, but you paid far too little attention to my real strength: my friends.”

You turn your eyes back to the party: an illusion, a paltry trick, dissolves from the worthless entourage of the chosen one, revealing a golem in place of his second in command and that same eternal loser, Reinlock, in his place.

“Impossible!” you roar, “I was certain! He– he had the holy sword! He acted just as you would!”

“I’ve been chasing that bastard’s back my whole life, you undead bastard.” Reinlock snickers, blood trickling from his broken lips, “I know him better than the back of my own hand.”

This is infuriating but… it matters not. Your phylactery, the real vessel of your existence, is safe, in an unknown locale far from here. Or at least, <span class="mu-r">that’s how it should be</span>. Golden cracks start to form on you— first on your body’s mana core, then on your bones, then, horror of horrors, on your <span class="mu-i">mana itself</span>. “What trickery is this!” You scream, your rage powerful enough to shake the foundations of your castle.

War War Never Changes.
They finally fucking did it. The bombs fell not long ago. The world is over. No more people. Just shambling radioactive corpses. No more nations, just glowing craters, dust, and shadows of people that once were. No more seasons, just nuclear winter. Shopping? No such thing. Have fun struggling to find a drop of water or a crumb of food that won't kill you. The RADS oh god the fucking RADS, inescapable and everpresent. Truly the end of the world. Rapture maybe happened and whatever is left...well, most people are quickly giving up on God. Kinda hard to keep believing when the world ended, and you were left behind. Except for the zealots, anyway, but those guys are crazy as the cannibalistic raiders.

That isn't even getting into all the weird shit that keeps happening and becoming. Makes you wish it was 'just' a nuclear winter. Walking corpses. Mutants. Inexplicable anomalies. Unnatural terrain. Strange whispers that you aren't the only one hearing. Honestly, it just keeps getting worse...especially with everything you have to do just to 'survive'. Living...living is just a luxury that only the pre war world got to enjoy. You meanwhile, are just another poor sucker caught up in this clusterfuck, trying to survive.

(This quest will be ripping heavily from games like Fallout, Metro, Stalker, and Bioshock basically anything that fits within the setting theme to keep things interesting)

>Character Creation
You may choose any trait from any game OR include a custom option that may be vetoed by me IF it's too unbalanced. Custom traits MUST include both positive and negative effects otherwise, it's an automatic veto.

The first character will be a young male because this is about a dynasty over the generations. So long as you have a living family member the game will not end however, your characters can and WILL die over time.

Anyway the last character DIED without offspring, resulting in game over, so now it's a restart with some adjustments. So here we go again. I wasn't joking about the difficulty...