You see his face. Sharp razor slit eyes etched onto a hulking creature’s giant head, which would give children across the galaxy vivid nightmares, stare into your soul. It produces no feeling of horror or fear, nor any other natural response, because you know him. Those eyes that are locked onto yours are dulled, empty, lifeless. The vacant glare causes your heart to wither in your chest. It was you, you did this, you killed your closest friend. A man who has saved your life, and you killed him. Now his face is slack, muscles relaxed, and his eyes are barren; all that vigour and life that he carried around with him is forever gone, never to return.
It was your choice to kill him. Sith Lord Yvalok presented the options to you. During your months on Lao training as a Sith Acolyte you, Vulfstahn a child of the extinct Sith people, have shown a wild potency with the Force which is unequalled by your supposed peers. This rare talent caught Yvalok’s eyes and has him captivated with your development, wanting nothing more than to see you flourish. The ancient human decided to gift you hate through a choice: slay Urr’tal in a duel or watch as Yira gets gangraped. You gave the withered husk of a Human your answer. With a slash of your sword, you betrayed Urr’tal, ending all the myriad great possibilities he could have achieved in his prodigious lifespan.
The Sith Lord that would be nothing but a frail old man if not for his mastery of the dark side of the Force stands above you as thick red ichor spews from the Whiphid’s severed neck. Forced onto the hard durasteel floor by a burst of lightning, you are enveloped by the growing pool of your friend’s blood. His decapitated head rests in front of you, not able to steal your eyes away from the lifeless face as his matted fur stains from his bleeding. Yvalok monologues and lectures, but you can’t hear him. The unblinking eyes have stolen your world.
You are <span class="mu-s">Lorinda de Lindan</span>, Princess, Inquisitor, and soon-to-be Tournament Champion! Well, not really, for you see the Inquisition is sending you into the <span class="mu-s">Grand Tournament of Bloodgrave’s Fall</span> as an agent to see if any otherworldly <span class="mu-s">Strangers</span> from the wicked and barbarous dimension of Earth sneak in to gain lands and glory right from under your father’s nose. Regretfully, the Inquisition has <span class="mu-s">banned</span> you from seeking victory as once your analysis of the competition is complete, it will be time to make a dramatic exit fitting of your desire to be the tournament’s <span class="mu-s">underdog hero</span>. Currently, there is a mere <span class="mu-s">14 days</span> before the preliminary rounds begin for the <span class="mu-s">duels</span> where you shall compete. Now if only you knew the best way to prepare…
This is a collab quest that didn't take off on /i/ so I'm moving it here. It started with submissions from other anons but I'm going to turn it into my own drawquest. I was going to make a Medabots one but the anime is too precious for me to ruin it. I also need to test the waters for some matters.
Wait until I finish dumping if you're participating, thanks.
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
You are the self-proclaimed KING of the WASTELAND.
Ever since the great BIG BOOM in the far off year of 2007, the world has gotten pretty nasty–ruins and mutants litter the desert wasteland all around you, roving bands of warlord kings and factions in all sorts of endless wars.
You never did much mind, though, as you kept to yourself in your reclusive “castle” (a pre-BIG BOOM convenience store) with your friend and roommate, DUKE NASU, watching one of your 24 copies of SUPERBAD (2007) and pumping iron–that is, at least, until a demolition company drove up to your front door.
You found out your castle was apparently on land that fell under the titleship of a “GUN KING”, who sought to evict you and bulldoze it into the ground. You took ownership of the demolitionist’s wrecking ball and drove out to the GUN KING’S castle to confront him on the matter.
You managed to infiltrate his castle whereupon you engaged in one-on-one combat with the king, PANZER GRAAD–however, defeating him only led to the appearance of another freak, the “MUTANT KING,” who kidnapped your dear friend DUKE NASU to bring him to its kingdom. You need to get him back.
<span class="mu-s">Monday</span> <span class="mu-s">Grid Sector 11873, Defensive Position "Razorback"</span>
The Bradley 1A5 kept firing with it's auto-cannon at the incoming target. One of it's tracks, the left one, was damaged. The rack of guided missiles had been emptied days ago and there hadn't been the chance to refill them.
Quartermaster "Godmother" was inside the basement of a ruined house, missing it's second floor and portions of the first. The structure of plywood would provide minimal protection or cover, which was why he was underground.
Beside him was Jack Price, the Engineer from MARS Incorporated, now a Lieutenant in what remained of the Armed Forces.
Finally, if he was still alive, was Capt. Harry Grand from the Air Force. - - In the basement was a Javelin guided missile, loaded, but with no available reloads. There was also MARS MPAR, a laser guided upgrade of the FGM-172A SRAW project. That system and a single reload were bundled together. Both would require firing from outside or the precarious top floor.
The other explosive options were the drum fed, six shot 40mm Milkor MGL.... OR three disposable AT-4ERs.
There was closed crates that may or may not have additional supplies, but the three of them didn't know how to operate that many weapons outside the rocket launchers and a basic M16A4.
There was the blowtorch and Quik Patch case, if Jack wanted to try repairing the Bradley.
The radiant summer sun shone down upon the verdant sylvan landscape; these fair meadows and groves had an ethereal quality that was, of course, a vestige of the faewild of old. The sight of its remnant had been among the most enchanting things you had ever seen.
And yet, you couldn't help escape the burden that was so heavily laden upon your head; the crown may be kept safely in the vaults under the Albrechtsburg, but its weight never quite left your head. It was among the elder days of the 13th century, the year 1275 to be exact. And the kingdom of Greifswald was at peace. Still, as far as realms were concerned, yours was still young, for it had been but thirteen years since the formal proclamation of the kingdom, though in truth, it has existed as a polity since 1241, though only as a dukedom. 34 years of an Adlershorst upon the throne, though the lineage stretched back further; by the standards of the continent, the royal bloodline was virtually new money.
Now, in the waning years of the 13th century, the king and court are engaged upon a tour of the northern fiefs, solidifying alliances and ensuring the loyalty of vassals. Yet things are not as they should be; monks travel and do not greet their king, and nobles leave their estates and disappear, only for them to resurface in strange and secretive gatherings. It wasn't rebellion, or at least, it hadn't been able to coalesce into one, but your suspicions were brewing.
War you knew; compared to the soldierly simplicity of that life, dealing with the two-faced members of the aristocracy was something you had grown into, but you still perceived the practice with distaste.
It is not that you don't enjoy the pleasure of conversation with some wine and roasted pork, but you would prefer it without the threat of walking yourself into a verbal trap, where you would need to extricate yourself with utmost courtesy.
All in all, the tour has had mixed results; the count of Hoenstein had provided you with some useful information regarding one Oskar von Schmallhausen and a Hedwig von Merckhayn, though what they were up to is a bit of a puzzle. On the other hand, your visit with the burgrave of Dornheim was nothing short of an unmitigated disaster. You said a few things were maybe a tad bit high-handed, he retorted in kind, and you left as soon as you had come, before he would tear up his contract of vassalage to you or do something worse.
The matter left a bitter, though perhaps sour, taste in your mouth, and you didn't really feel like continuing this tour, or at least wanted to speed it up for your sake. If anything, the nobles should come to you; if all of them were in Ritterbach, there would be no more of this. But what was started should be seen through...
<span class="mu-b">ANTON PEAS:</span> that’s your name, don’t wear it out! Originally a mild-mannered grilljockey, a botched demonic summoning brought you to <span class="mu-b">ZORAL:</span> a fantasy world shrouded in perpetual darkness!
You get used to it!
The memory loss and everyone trying to kill you? That’s the tricky part. See, your unexpected trip landed you in one Hell of a mess: not only did you lose a huge chunk of your memories, but you also forfeit your soul to <span class="mu-r">RED</span>--you don’t know the specifics, but essentially your summoning granted you some <span class="mu-r">DEMONIC POWERS</span>, so it’s not all bad!
What <span class="mu-i">IS</span> bad is what you’re up to now: your hellish helper can restore your memories, but he won’t do it for free! The price: delivering the heads of <span class="mu-r">THE FOUR LORDS OF ZORAL:</span> tyrants and titans that rule the darklands with iron fists, claws, and… you dunno, tentacles, maybe? There’s a reason they’ve ruled for so long, however, and despite your platoon of pals and plentiful powers you can’t help but feel a little apprehensive about the whole thing!
Exhibit A: <span class="mu-r">ARCHMAGE TRIER.</span> Arriving in <span class="mu-b">UMBERAL:</span> Zoral’s very own city of tomorrow, you were swiftly introduced to the <span class="mu-r">TEKSOULS:</span> menacing magitek that follow every whim Trier can think up… and you met the guy–he thinks a <span class="mu-i">LOT!</span>
Not to be outdone, you also ran into <span class="mu-r">THE SPICE CARTEL</span>--not only is Umberal their home turf, they’re also running some kind of deal with the Archmage… as for what it is, well, you shudder to think!
Your search for leverage over the Archmage took you to <span class="mu-b">TRIMBAULT ACADEMY:</span> Zoral’s most prestigious magical academy, and whole you managed to snag some goodies and teach a surprisingly-decent class (don’t ask), you didn’t manage to find notes other mages took on their Archmage adversary! Even worse, all signs point to The Cartel snatching them up for their own perfidious plots!
Luckily you had an in: <span class="mu-b">TZAH-TZIE</span>, skilled songstress and your current beau, has an axe to grind with her musical rival <span class="mu-b">LUTZA</span>. Having saved the starlet from a kidnapping on the Umberal Skyrail, you earned your way into holding a concert in Umberal, and some of the biggest names in The Cartel just happen to be huge fans!
You were just about to plot out the details at the glitzy <span class="mu-b">CRYSTALMELT HOT SPRINGS LODGE</span> when you ran smack-dab into The Cartel’s higher-ups… and the big cheese himself, <span class="mu-r">VHALE NESSURMOS</span>.
Did we mention he’s also your girlfriend’s husband? And that she freezes up like a clam on Pluto at the mere mention of his name?
Cornered by the Cartel, THIS is where your tale continues…
