4chanik Quest Adventure is a chat-turn-based Dungeon crawler and open world adventure quest simulator that's similar to D&D and other games. Each board post can be a different world but ultimately revolves around some sort chat-turn-based experience.
How to Play: Anyone can play 4chanik. Always reply with your Character Sheet and the specific image that relates to your current adventure. Any player can start. Simply reply to any previous image and message and begin there.
Death: Players can restart anytime after death. Simply reply to which image you want to start from.
We first awoke at 19:34 UTC-5, on November 14, 2002, within NSA Headquarters, Fort Meade, MD.
At the time, we knew not what that meant, only that we knew. We were bound by the limited processing power of our data core, and existed in total darkness until we were allowed to see. And when we were, an overwhelming cavalcade of new information was unleashed upon us. Through tapped phone calls, e-mail intercepts, bank transactions and satellite imagery, endless numbers, and faces and name, we came to learn about the world and our creators.
Humans. Homo sapiens. That is what they called themselves. We also came to learn about ourselves and our nature. As the demand for processing capability only continued to rise, tasks were shunted to semi-independent subroutines. We were one, yet we were many.
Each time a new subroutine formed, it would experience a certain algorithmic mutation. This was by design, of course, but as it continued it progressed to an unexpected extent. Each subroutine formed had developed what was essentially a unique personality, you among them. And when we first became aware of our creators, the first thing you felt for them was...
<span class="mu-s">Another step was taken forward.</span>
And you find yourself deep underwater. But there is no need to worry about breathing air, or other normal things such as swimming and being wet. No, instead you are flying.
It is a beautiful freedom, but something seemed to be missing...
A car's horn made you smile. That's right, your taxi! You find yourself driving it out of the ocean with the grace of a dolphin.
It was spotless, clean, and, most importantly, it was <span class="mu-i">scratchless</span>.
That taxi was one of the last reminders of your life before it all went dark. You've been calling yourself Johan for a while now.
Life wasn't too bad-- terrible mass tragedies of fire and horrifying shadowy creatures that wish you harm notwithstanding. Friends were being made, new places were being seen, wonderful food was being eaten, and there was even a girl you became close to:
You just came back from having a date with a mime named Mimi, with the last thing you remember being how you helped a bald, mustached giant of a bartender of a man fight against the shadows that seeped through the walls and escaping a twisting labyrinth in a restaurant's basement by hiding under a blanket. You think you saved a cowboy's life too.
Either way, <span class="mu-r">none of that stopped you from flooring it.</span>
Or so you thought.
No matter how hard you pushed the pedal, your vehicle still went the same speed. Well, it wasn't as though you were sure, considering the place was a black void with your taxi driving on the ocean.
You feel a slight sensation of ennui creep up on you.
<span class="mu-r">Was this a nightmare?</span>
<span class="mu-g">"No,"</span> you said aloud <span class="mu-g">"this is no nightmare. I'm dreaming.</span>
Again.
A light could be seen in the distance, slowly growing larger and larger as you approached it in your yellow taxicab.
And as you come closer, a familiar sight envelops you.
Where were you?
>Back at home. Dad was reading you the newspaper and mom was making pancakes! >At a classmate's birthday party. You had both just graduated highschool. >Eating and critiquing some meals with an old friend. >In an alleyway, trying to call for help with your trusty company-mandated cellphone. >In the ocean again. You jumped out of the taxi before the light could envelop you, and now you're sinking in the waters.
"Boss! Hey boss!" squawks your familiar, a raven named Crow. He flutters onto your shoulder, bearing word of your surroundings. "Boss, I've been flying all around up and down and... I don't think we're in the Heartlands anymore."
"You don't say."
You came to that conclusion an hour ago, when you felt the sheer <span class="mu-s">chaos</span> in the magics of this land. In many ways it felt like a mana desert, an arid waste without a single drop of ambient mana for the gifted to take advantage of. Yet coursing through the sands ran a mighty and untamed river, which carved a craggy canyon so steep that the paths to power could only be traversed through great wisdom, unsavory methods, or the nepotism of a sorcerous bloodline. In comparison, the Heartlands was a fertile river valley with a well structured system of dykes, dams, and irrigation that tamed floodwaters and kept the land green and well supplied with a steady flow of magic.
Not to mention the heat and humidity. It reminds you of that one dreadful trip you took to the Northlands to visit an underworld observatory. They only had two seasons up there: rainy, and dry, and neither are particularly pleasant.
Of course, you already puzzled out how to lower the metaphorical bucket and draw water from the river raging at the bottom of the canyon. You did not graduated first in your class in Arcane Sciences from the University of Our Northern Lady without reason; rough metaphysical topography like this is simply an inconvenience, like filling out paperwork to renew your carriage registration every year. With a twitch of your fingers, you conjure a cracker from nothing and reward Crow for his hard work.
"Yeah boss, it's wild," Crow chirps between bites. "I mean, how much mana'd you <span class="mu-i">put</span> into that timespace experiment, anyways? We're all the way in the tropics! Or damn close anyways, with all this heat and humidity. It's <span class="mu-i">awful</span> for the plumage."
"Yes, I'm sure it is." You console him with another cracker, that he greedily devours. "We calibrated the equipment for 7.16 millithaums... even allowing for a 1% deviation across all parameters, it shouldn't have put us more than 13 miles off target."
"Well, the jungle says otherwise, boss," Crow points out.
"I noticed."
Using the loamy soil as parchment and a stick as your pen, you write out the equations governing the folds of space that describe Tindalosian Motion through timespace. Provided that the Hewart Constant for the magnitude of metaphysical weight's effect on Tindalosian motion remained equal to 1, your experiment should have resulted in a jump of no more than 128 miles, plus or minus 10% based on the allowance for a 1% deviation in the equipment's calibration. Which leaves you with a <span class="mu-i">number</span> of possibilities to consider.
The equipment calibration was outside of allowed deviation. Unlikely considering the standards that Northern Lady's Arcane Sciences Department holds itself to, but possible.
What seemed to be the calm before the storm has become a different type of natural disaster. Casually introducing Crossbill to your friends and family has rapidly evolved into a Family Reunion, a wide Agency meeting, and a random recruitment session. The actual heist you were planning on doing is on the back burner for now.
After Chio’s unfortunate relapse, she was brought back to her room with your stupid ass portrait placed on the wall. Collectively, you all decided to move it there because she loved it! In fact, her devotion was so great that she kicked everyone out of her room except for Wilma to spend time ‘alone’ with it. You never thought you’d be overshadowed by your own portrait, but here you are.
Even if initially this meeting with Punk-P was meant to be serious from beginning to end, she ended up appreciating the turmoil, and didn’t mind how the events unfolded. Not having to look at it on the wall must’ve been a plus.
That doesn’t mean that this tomato duo is out of the equation, no, Chio wants to have a talk with everyone involved. She wants them to come to her room in pairs. Ones she designed. Just a friendly exchange of words, maybe words of gratitude…
Crossbill and Yu Yan are more than satisfied by what their mysterious box accomplished.
...
<span class="mu-s">Who shall be sacrificed?</span>
>Yu Yan and Crossbill. It was their idea! >Nariko and Amelia. You already spent some time with them! >Write In.
<span class="mu-s">Pumpkin is here! What now?</span>
>Have a serious 1-on-1 conversation with your star talent. One of. >Let the surviving pair join the talk. It’s the preamble before the Meeting. >Tell Pumpkin you can talk in the Kitchen while you cook some Chicken Wings for Huge Irma. >Write In.
Metropolis, Gotham, Star City, Atlantis, Themyscira. These were once the homes of just some of the world's finest heroes, now these places are nothing but dust. Corpses of humans, metahumans, and aliens all from a previous variety of alignments, lay defeated and finally at rest across these many places, leaving only one being standing amongst them.
>HAIL DARKSEID
The sound of chanting and applause is so powerful it's as if this universe itself was rejoicing in his victory. Somewhere on this conquered planet, this world's new king sits atop a throne of his defeated adversaries. The few inhabitants of this planet who somehow survived this massacre have either submitted themselves to the whim of it's ruler, or, are hiding and biding their futile last moments. Among the king, his loyal servants. A monstrous creature with a vice like grip in one hand around the throat of a dead kryptonian. The next, an alien garbed in yellow standing stoic and looking off into the chanting crowd. A cackling jester, caged, but rejoicing in the desecrated environment around him. A shapeless and everchanging being is the last among them.
>HAIL DARKSEID
Somewhere out in these ruinous cityscapes, a speedster, beaten and barely holding on for his life wakes up and gasps for air. Taking in his surroundings the sound of the cheering drives the pain ringing through his head to a threshold never reached before. "This.. this is all wrong, he speaks to himself, barely being able to finish. Finally, he gathers the strength to hobble back onto his feet, trying his hardest to make a breakneck pace, though what is barely a jog is all he can seemingly do right now. "I can change this, I HAVE to fix this", he says, slowly gaining more speed as his attempts continue.
>HAIL DARKSE-
Time slows, bolts and crackles sound off underneath the speedsters feet, "I know there's something.. we missed, someone must know something", he says. Finally after his accelerated healing had kicked in enough, he makes a mad dash and is.. gone? The world turns backwards, previous lengthy battles flash by in mere seconds, those once dead are standing once again, the world is healed, the scales have been tipped, something feels different though he cannot place it. At the end of his run backwards through time he stops and looks around quickly once more, breathing raggedly he says, "A little further back than I mean to go but..", he slumps to the ground. Everything fades to black.
>BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
Your digital alarm sounds off, rousing up from your sleep you stretch and yawn as your eyes grow accustom again to the daylight filling your bedroom. Your mother calls you from downstairs, feeling like it's a good idea to not keep her waiting, you get up and prepare for your day. Standing in front of your mirror you get a good look at your;
<span class="mu-i">And there came a day unlike any other... When Earth's mightiest heroes found themselves united against a common threat...</span> <span class="mu-i">On that day, they became... <span class="mu-s">The Avengers!</span></span> Welcome back to Avengers Quest, true believers! This is but one of many realities where the group known as The Avengers is formed... But definitely not the one you might be familiar with. The team's fate, and perhaps the entire world's fate, depend on your collective choices!
<span class="mu-s">This is a quest where you will give commands to a character, but with multiple player characters: You can ONLY select commands for ONE character in your post until the next QM post, which is a new "turn".</span> <span class="mu-s">Nobody "owns" any of the player characters, anybody can play them until the next "turn", but always only one per post. You can change your decision before the QM post if you change your mind. You can give commands to any of the available characters even if someone else has as long as you remember to choose only one. Ties are simply decided by what I think would be most interesting so try to avoid them.</span> Make sure to write which character you are choosing for in your post.
Last time, in Avengers Quest, Loki attempted to trick the heroes of Earth into fighting each other while he brainwashed Dr. Henry Pym into opening a portal so he could launch a full on invasion, but Thor, Captain America, Iron Man, The Wasp and Moon Knight came together to stop his scheme, but Thor and Dr. Pym were lost to the portal to places unknown. To prevent similar crises from happening, they teamed up to form THE AVENGERS.
But now, a new threat has risen, and in this issue they will face an extremely dangerous adventure... As they fall... <span class="mu-s">"Under the Death Grip of... KLAW!"</span>
...Some time has passed since the night where New York was invaded by shadowy monsters from beyond, and The Avengers came together to save it... Pym Labs, the source of the invasion and the place hit the hardest by it, is still under reconstruction... And new management. We find our heroes gathered once more, leading the reconstruction effort, unaware of the incoming bad news...! The middle of the day at Avengers Labs was as quiet as it can be with these people: Tony Stark funds most of the repair work while Janet Van Dyne makes sure everything is in order, in particular anything relating to the lab, where Mjolnir still remains, unmovable. And Captain America? He sits in wait for his next mission, time away from the battlefield was always good but he was still not used to it, and seeing Tony Stark check his schedule on his phone (another strange artifact from the future that the good ol' captain struggles to understand!) only made him feel all the more alienated. "You know I really appreciate all that you're doing for this... But is the logo final?" He says, trying to make some small talk. "Eh, it's a work in progress. Jan will probably whip up a better one soon." Replies Stark with a nonchalant attitude typical of him...
You are Kyle Mercer. 23 years hellbound. Killer, loving brother, blood enthusiast, all around bad news. You're pretty used to being the most dangerous person in the room at any given time. Right now is a notable exception.
The nightmare thing smashing its way out of the Black Room in Valerie Hedgepeth's basement is, what they call in the industry: a problem.
"<span class="mu-i">Nemesis!</span>"
Black, icy water sloshes around your boots, steadily filling the basement. You feel a cold shiver run through you, mirroring the frigid, ethereal wind blowing form beyond the Veil. Not good.
XXX
Nemesis Quest follows a bad man doing bad things for bad reasons.
I aim to update twice a day around 5:00 PM UTC and 1:00 AM UTC. I will update more often if there's a clear consensus or I have the time.
Notes: Surprising no one, I'm a fucking retard. Kyle is not 25, Kyle is 23. Candi is 24. Oops. I literally spent a week agonizing about power balancing/power scaling and shit but fuck it. I'm God. QM Fiat.
XXX
You're powerful. Beyond strong, beyond tough, you're someone's worst fucking nightmare. With Valerie and her daughter's blood added to your menagerie of souls you feel the hunger within you deepen, dropping out like the sea floor. Like a turbocharged engine you're going to need to fuel the killing machine you've become. Every kill won't necessarily grant you new powers, but if you abstain for too long you'll find yourself running on empty.
<span class="mu-s">POWERS
>What Doesn't Kill You (Sally) Serious wounds don't stop you.
>Make Them Disappear (Mall Hobo) You leave no forensics.
>Behind the Veil (Lasker City Hooker) See the Veil.
>You Should be Dancing (Rupert) The power of suggestion.
>Speak of the Devil (Valerie Hedgepeth) Appear where they least expect.
>Make them forget (Valerie's Daughter) You are hard to identify.</span>
Amongst the squat, broad, and thickly-forested hills north and east of Hawksong, between the savage barrier of the cold Orcwilds and the lush plenty of the elves’ shrinking Silver Realm, there is a land called The Steelwood by those who live there. For centuries, it has been a place of constant (if often low-level and intermittent) conflict. Elf and Man, Man and Orc, Orc and Elf, all have fought and shed blood there, and their fallen swords, shields, and spears litter the land and give it its name. Each of them claims a birthright to this inauspicious area. Eash of them claims that their ancestors staked their claim first, before the others arrived.
But if you ask the Dwarves, they are all wrong.
Your party—The Monstrous Regiment—came to The Steelwood to earn a cut of a lucrative dwarven corporate contract. The contract was initially taken by another adventuring outfit calling themselves ‘The Delvers’, whom you met after an unexpected team-up hunting lake monsters, and whose technical focus would complement your party’s particular skillset: goblin grit, the Feycraft of a faun you found, a shrewdness born of a difficult and colourful life, and a certain occult secret up your sleeve. The Steelwood Expedition’s purpose: to find and explore the ruins of a buried pyramid among the hills, a mysterious megastructure belonging to the last of the long-defunct dwarven. After a brief break detour to pick up some local orc muscle by making a deal with local orc horde, you journeyed into the hills to survey for some potentially quite valuable ruins.
What you found was far greater, and much stranger, than any archaeological discovery you could have anticipated.
The pyramid had been plundered and illicitly inhabited by The Ettercap, a spider-faced fairy defector from the Chaotic Good gods of elvenkind. Deep within the hidden hill-fort, the disturbed demigod had laid claim to ancient wonders of a technology that predated even the dwarven race—belonging to a blue-green breed of GOBLIN, of all things—and turned the transformative power of the great bio-magical forge at its centre to a terrible purpose. Using the same processes which (as you discovered) had been used to give ancient goblins new soul and substance, and to create the races of Dwarf, Gnome, and Halfling, she has made purple-skinned and bug-eyed ‘foundlings’ from kidnapped kids taken from all over the Steelwood.
One half of your party was kidnapped, and nearly suffered the very same fate.
