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

<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…

https://youtu.be/1lR8VLt1Xlk

>CONTD.

<span class="mu-s">Our bittersweet farewell to youth.</span>

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.)

"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."

Humanity has spread out into a massive sprawling empire throughout the galaxy. The edges of the sprawl remain poorly guarded and sparsely settled after all humanity throughout a thousand stars has always been alone save for their own creations which once waged war against them. This is no longer true now an unknown force has begun to attack sector 63 and other sectors and it is up to poorly supplied and desperate sailors to hold them back.


You are the Admiral of the naval fleet of sector 63 one of nearly a 100 rimward sectors on the edge of settled human space. The war has finally turned in humanity's favor the once unending horde of bird ships, who you now know are called the Argono have finally ebbed away. Your industry soars and the first of the friendly fleets have begun to probe from Mid Rim sector 63 in your own sector to hopefully soon relieve you.

You're currently on patrol facing off against a small fleet of enemy ships made up of 4 battleships, 2 battlescruisers and 12 Heavy cruisers facing off against your veteran picket line of corvettes, destroyers, and several light cruisers along with your freshly converted semi guided missile cruiser. The enemies' lasers dance around the picket line as the push forward even as your missile cruiser comes to a stop and turns to give the enemy their broadside. There's several large flashes as all 12 of its missiles fire and burn fast toward the enemy capital ships. There is some swearing over comms as the missiles zip past the picket line and your strike craft but the pilots and captains are too busy dodging incoming fire as they loose their own torpedo strikes to give too much complaint.

Could I get a 1d100 best of three please

Past Threads:https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=BrinkQM

>be you
>be at the edge of the world
>your people are finished
>the last great city is a sinking husk behind you
>the Old King is dead, choked on his own prophecies
>the crown is in your pack, heavy with failure
>ahead lies only the Black Sands, a sea of ash under a dying sun
>the scrolls say nothing lives there
>the scrolls were wrong
>something is moving in the ash, and it has seen you
>the survivors at your back are silent, waiting
>choose

<span class="mu-r">This is the end of the world.</span> It's also the birth of a new one, or an old one, depending on who you ask. Maybe it's more like an overdue arranged marriage.

You might not have been fully aware, but the world used to cast a Shadow: a separate realm of spirits, kept away by a barrier that only a certain few were ever meant to cross. Spirits are capricious, rarely logical, and often dangerous beings composed of the essence and energy of all things real; scuttling reflections with their own arcane hierarchies and motivations.

But every wall has its rats, and the barrier between your world and the spirit world was no exception. The Beshilu are a nasty manner of demon - derived from and connected to the spirit world, but fettered to the world of flesh, and gifted with many terrible abilities. They massacre and they multiply, and their only desire has ever been to tear down that wall between worlds... to gnaw at its foundations in greater and greater numbers, until the wolves could no longer keep them at bay.

They succeeded.

Too many tears. Too many crumbling wounds between worlds. The gauntlet was sundered, and when that wall crumbled away, the world of mortals and the world of spirits were merged into one. In those first terrible moments, everyone on Earth could hear a trillion shrill voices screeching out in triumph, and swarms of rats swelled across streets and forests in writhing tides.

The fabric of reality is now like a sieve, the threads wavering apart and stretching in new directions; space and time operate differently. The sun no longer rises, or sets, and light instead seems to meander from one place to the next according to whim. Places seem to stir and shift, reacting to their occupants in sometimes unpredictable fashion. The rules have changed, and will likely change more, but things will never go back to the way they were.

That was three days ago, and it would be a stretch to say the dust has settled, but you are adjusting to the chaos. You're a survivor, and while you may not fully grasp what's going on, you're not unfamiliar with the supernatural. You are determined to knuckle down and make your way in this fucked up new world....

>Cont'd

"JESUS FUCK." A bit of spit leaves the girl's mouth with the utterance of the expletive. The thin blonde man shoots an annoyed look at his coworker as he leans on his broom, watching her wipe the spit from her chin.

"Hey, management said we couldn't curse. Get that side for me." The brunette gives him an indifferent glance, grabs a dustpan, and starts sweeping in various things: rose petals, scrapped, <span class="mu-s">badly framed photos</span>, a dust of cocaine that had slipped from some celebrity's torn pocket. She scoffs at the discovery of a used condom leaking all over the concrete.

"Just saying. You'd think that at a big event like this, people would be a bit more dignified." She turns to look at the big black block letters that burned boldly on the arena sign.

<span class="mu-s">MILLER V HAWKE</span>
<span class="mu-s">FATHER V SON</span>
<span class="mu-s">TONIGHT</span>

(1/5)

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.