You are GEROME. You have been jailed pending trial on the charge of the RAPEMURDER of multiple infant babies. You are in the LONGHOUSE PENITENTIARY. You want to escape.
<span class="mu-i"> In times of old, there stood many a great kingdom or realm, their lines proud, their kings great, and their works were legendary. It was a time of greatness for all, from all classes and races, for it was a time when the yields were abundant, the cattle fat, and the weather favourable.
This changed, however. A creature with a heart pitch-black and eyes of darkness and despair that rise and shrink with hate. All despaired at his coming and the hordes and legions he brought with him. Crowns were broken, castles slighted, and the kings lay broken. Like a vile black hand, his reach seemed boundless; with his fiery red eyes, his gaze kept his subjects obedient, and from a dark tower, this lord of evil watched over his realm as the land fell into darkness and despair, with hope fading like a dying ember.
But embers can flare up, and like the phoenix, a new generation of heroes and their hosts of light broke the chains, shattered his armies to the winds and finally brought an end to his reign of terror. As the morrow broke once more, it was thus proclaimed that nevermore should his name be uttered, nevermore should his remains be seen, and nevermore should there be fear of his tyranny. And so, the people rejoiced in their newfound freedom, rebuilding their shattered world with hope and determination for a brighter future. His artefacts and symbols, buried deep beneath the sands and earth, were so well hidden that not even the most fanatical cultist would find anything.
And yet in that lies the danger; dead though he may be, there are still those who revere him as though he were a god-king upon this earth, and his ilk have a tendency not to stay dead… There are still whispers, mutterings and vague prophecies about his return, though none have come true as of my writing this tome…. His name was struck from the lists of both paper and mind, so one would never again say that name which struck deep grief into the hearts of all peoples…. I shall end this book with a warning: if he does return, do not try to fight him; run. Run to the nearest authorities and alert them; fighting him alone shall surely be your doom, even if he's weakened, but the worst thing you can do is to let him speak; his words shall gnaw in your mind, his arguments shall be so persuasive that you will drop your weapons, and he shall weave a web of deceit that will ensnare even the strongest of wills. Hearken unto him, no matter his guise and form, and before too long you shall find yourself in eternal servility. </span>
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.
It is the chirping of the birds which first jolts you from your stupor, proudly sitting upon their trees, singing jollies to and fro of the merry morning lights. You, who had found no rest, no shut eyes throughout the night, take it simply as an ringing pain on your head. For though you had momentarily found yourself lacking in cognition, it was not rest which you had felt, but a lapse in concentration, a departure of your thinking to some state of sickly torpor.
You had not slept for the entire night, and certainly, it hath given no benefit to your condition. But then again, how could you, with the challenges that you faced?
You are <span class="mu-s">Alessandro Galliota</span>, the Viscount of Portblanc. That much you can be sure of, even in your sorry state...you, who had been brought here to this land of Nera, this distant land from your own, by your great liege <span class="mu-s">Don Carles IV Brascarams</span>. You had come here to wage war in the name of the Spisa family, allied to your country, against the forces of the Fortelli, friendly to your foe. You had launched a campaign throughout their borderlands, partaken in a siege, and most of all, you had faced a force far mightier than yours, many times greater in both number and capability, aided by scores of Himmmerian Giants, those most fearful of enemies of the human race. For a whole day, you had succesfully fought them of, and, shattering the bridge which they sought to take in an pivotal moment, you had sunk to the depths of the river hundreds of their men.
You escaped death, too, by a hair's breadth, when the infamous <span class="mu-i">Famiglia</span>, those mighty knights of Nera, armed with beastly amazonian mounts, had been able to momentarily breach your formation. It was only by bidding your musketeers to fire upon them even as they fought your own men that you had survived, though at the cost of your entire retinue. All those things and much many others had happened yesterday, in this battle upon the Vessena. This battle, you are certain, has not ended yet, and it is this which brings you trouble. For today you must <span class="mu-s">seek out victory</span> and find a way to hold your foes at bay until the city of Montechia falls!
For now, however, breakfast will have to do. Shaking yourself out of this stasis, you raise yourself from the piece of wood that you had used as a seat for the night. <span class="mu-i">Because you had fled into the grove to make your camp</span>, you did not have the amenities of your lordly tent. Of course, compared to those amongst the soldiery who did not have any tent at all, you were not in a poor state. You order one of your servants to gather up whatever is available for you. What you receive, after some time, is...some bread, and some of the cheap rum that was served to the soldiery. Though it be enough to fill you, you cannot help but feel some manner of bitterness in the knowledge that you stand but a few minutes of travel away from your supply wagons.
It was late in the afternoon, as staff were starting to wrap up testing, check-ups and other activities in the deeper parts of the facility. However, whilst most subjects were being brought back to their containment, this was not the case for Kaenum. In fact, she was currently following Catherine to a place she hadn't visited before. "So, who are you bringing me to?" Kaenum asked calmly, looking around and noticing that there were a few guardsmen around, which made her both curious and concerned. "Her name is Edith Astor. Codename, PW-87. I designed her with Roraima. However, after she refused to do what Roraima demanded of her, he... punished her." Catherine said in a regretful tone, Kaenum giving an understanding nod. "I fortunately managed to take full control of her, ensuring Roraima doesn't hurt her further. Unfortunately, she has been rather scarred by the experience. Which is why I was hoping that you could help her out. Perhaps give her some therapy to help her cope with things."
Whilst Kaenum was saddened that a subject had to suffer so much under Roraima, she was optimistic that she could help out here. After all, she had trained quite a bit when it came to therapy, and knew that she could help anyone out with enough time. "Of course, Catherine. I'd gladly help out." Kaenum responded, Catherine smiling with relief, as the two headed towards the secluded and relatively well-guarded chamber. Until finally, the two would reach the large set of doors leading to the chamber. "Will you be joining me?" Kaenum asked to Catherine, who paused before reluctantly shaking her head. "I want this to be between you and her. I've talked with her a bit, but... I could not get her to talk much. She needs someone else. Another subject..." Kaenum nodded again, taking a deep breath before looking ahead. "Very well then." With that, Catherine would give a nod to the nearby guardsmen, before taking a step back.
Kaenum stepped through the door after it opened, entering the small space which separated the outside world from the containment chamber. Though once the second set of doors opened, Kaenum was met with a rather neat and homely looking room. Clearly, Catherine had tried o decorate the room in such a way that it helped Edith feel more at home. Though, given how things looked eerily untouched, it had not been too effective. Not to mention, the fact that Edith wasn't really doing anything in the room. Kaenum spotted her in the corner, sitting on the floor and facing the wall. "Go away..." Edith mumbled in a worn-down voice, Kaenum remaining calm and quietly entering the room. Kaenum looked over the subject, quickly noticing all the combat features Roraima had clearly given her. Those large and long wings, those clawed hands and her stature all were traits meant to appear intimidating. And yet, Edith appeared more sombre than scary. "Edith, it's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Kaenum. I am here to talk to you."
<span class="mu-s"><span class="mu-i">Frieden Moon, The Mind-Killer. Black-Band pilot of ZAFT.</span></span> Has found himself participating in a covert infiltration of the Atlantic Federation's G-Project using his background as a former EA pilot... Though unfortunately caught in the crossfire of ZAFT's operation to steal the Mobile Weapons in Heliopolis Colony. A deceived partner uncovers a secret of the Nation of ORB. <span class="mu-i">Which now lays on Frieden's own hands to pilot.</span>
You are Marnie, a girl living in the Ark known as the Digital World. For all your life, you've endured a dreary existence in City 87-O, haplessly railing against a skin-deep system that denies you all but the most meaningless human experiences. You've spent years beholding the shining tower in the center of the city, and watched its guardian Digimon circle it endlessly, protecting the portal that leads out of this sunless landscape. Throughout your youth, you never thought you'd actually be able to make your dream a reality. But things have begun to change over the past few months.
A chance meeting with a Digimon has plunged you into a hidden world of wonders, filled with wild Digimon, enigmatic Code Crackers, mysterious server partitions that reveal the City's inner workings to you, and underground organizations seeking to bring change to this world. Amidst this danger is the authenticity you've so dearly craved, and you've never been happier.
Right now, you're in the middle of a mission to take down your Digimon Nemesis. You and your partner, Phascomon, have broken into the lair of DarkTyrannomon, who has taken over an entire Job District. You've made it past his lieutenants and minions and are mere steps away from facing down your foe one last time and putting an end to his danger.
Once that's done, you plan to climb The Tower, defeat its guardian, and finally claim your freedom. The real world awaits.
You are Lieren of Nothing, philosopher of some renown, Hunter of some skill, Primarch of the 2nd legion of the emperor of mankind's space marines, grand architect and head of the Long-Jian ministry of development, friend of the oppressed, enemy of tyrants and husband of the living ship Kanzeon, among a great many other things, including dabbler of the secrets of the old ones and poet of some skill.
Presently, you are above an uncontacted world of a substrain of humanity, using a mixture of high technology and sheer telekinetic force to create a monument from the debris left behind by the skirmish with an ork fleet, combining together the metal hulls of the ships that were lost in the battle to form a monolith of burnt and sundered still, that Kanzeon is engraving with the names and histories of the crews of the ship. It is to honor their ultimate sacrifice for a cousin of mankind that had not even known they'd been threatened.
A cousin you shall soon meet personally, the envoys that were sent had all agreed that your presence and company would be most welcome as they traveled beneath the frozen surface of the unnamed world to meet with the representatives of the city states, that the aspirants of your legion had, while you and their senior and future astartes brothers waged war against the pirate fleet, had managed to get in contact with the abhuman race. They had taken your challenge to learn how to solve the communication barrier with a society that did not know the sky above their mines existed, yet alone of the worlds beyond their worlds with great gusto and had devised a novel means of breaking that barrier. Which they had done themselves, to prove it'd work. They'd started by sending dummy distress signals near to the surface, which allowed the abhuman miners to realize the source must be coming from beyond their world of rock and stone.
And then followed by sending transmission to the groups that had figured it out, and providing proof of a world beyond their mines. Somehow, this was not met with skepticism or derision by the rest of their societies, but rather a rush to be the first to make contact with the "Uplanders" as the underground dwellers called the aspirants and you supposed everyone else
There was some grumbling, when an Astartes that had been left on the planet to watch over and run the boys through drills had happened upon and discovered what the aspirants were getting up to, but the response from the rulers of the four blocs, which were formed by councils of elders that represented the interests and vendettas of various clans and families, had been one of intrigue and praise for such "Clever little beardlings". Cont
It's March 1945, you hear about a job in a kind of ‘secret city.’ You don't know what the hell these people are talking about, but it looks promising, even too good to be true. Still, you don't have much to lose after the Great War, so you take the opportunity.
After going through a lot of paperwork and a few other things, in less than a week you're put on a ship with no name and no clear destination. They just told you, ‘It's in the middle of the sea.’
Less than two weeks ago, you were a poor idiot living on the bare minimum, and now you're still a poor idiot, but now you're on a ship heading for ‘the city of the future’. You'd heard of its founder, Andrew Ryan, a rather unique man who was quite crazy about his ideals, which is nothing new in this world.
A couple of shitty days go by. You weren't used to such long boat trips, but you forced yourself to get used to it. The food on the boat is shit, but at least it's better than whatever you could scavenge from the rubbish.
One cold morning, you've lost track of time, sleeping in rooms the size of mouse holes, crammed in with a few other poor idiots like you, seeking a future in an uncertain city. A bell begins to ring, and the ship's crew start shouting announcements: "<span class="mu-s">We've arrived</span>!’ You look out the window and all you can see is sea as far as the eye can see. You run with the crowd to the upper deck.
The crew continue to shout ‘<span class="mu-s">we have arrived</span>’. This is when you see it: an enormous lighthouse, a huge tower, an effigy in the middle of the gigantic and infinite ocean, a shining golden tower rising above the waves.
A submarine appears out of nowhere from the darkness of the ocean, and the ship's officers make preparations to board the submarine.
