Previous Threads: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=The%202nd%20Primarch%20Quest
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Deep down, far below even the furthest reaching roots of the ice capped mountains, distant from even the faintest beam of sunlight can reach, a Primarch and a collection of long dead souls hold audience, conversing across the gulf of bleakest reality enforced by the anti warp generators that had longed protected the Squat descendants of the original colonists of the world.

You were talking with one of the kindest most gentle souls, one who by every right should've been born and usurped the souls inhabiting the technology that had been its cradle but instead was content to exist only within the ambient, background collective thought and soul stuff that so many souls so tightly packed together in code and wire had spawned, like a whisper in the ear or a breeze brushing against one's bare nape.

They had agreed to permit you a chance to replace the ancient machinery that powered the gellar field that surrounded much of the planet and its interior, through creating an array and network of lesser replicas of the Archeotech "Dragon's Heart" That had so banished the warp that drawing too near to it could strip men of their souls. However, the process of separating the souls to grant them freedom if they wished, apart from the collective, to continue their duty or else be free from it, would inevitably condemn the gentle soul to death. No. Something far more dire than death. Non existence. Having never been. And even a creature like the unmade gestalt possessed a fear of death, and while the digitized ancestors of the Squat people debated and argued if they should trust your plan, they were unaware of the trembling, frightened soul that had been partially formed of all of their essences and thoughts.

They were afraid. Your philosophy guide, the Journey, advised one to not fear death or their own demise. For it was inevitable, all things must one day perish. Even infinity was finite. Eternity was simply a concept, rather than a truth. It was simply the nature of life and being, that it must one day be terminated and cease. Breathing out, centering your mind and calming your heart, you thought how best to comfort the gentle soul. Even though you would do all in your power to prevent their erasure.

"Death is natural, even for beings such as yourself" These words were met with an immediate reaction, a chilling torrent of mortal terror, the fear of death, rising panic, dying the white void that the Dragon's Heart enforced in the realm of souls. You endured the storm, facing it and weathering it as your conversation partner tried to rein in and control their panicked swell of emotions and compose themselves as the most natural fear of all was inflicted upon them like an arrow to the heart.

You held up an appeasing, soothing hand and took in a deep breath, frost coating your lips as your ever burning pyre of a soul flickered and danced
Cont

Thread 3: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6311572/

>You find the kidnapped lady by being kidnapped yourself
>With a little help, your egg daughter saves you
>The group rescues the kidnapped lady, but get shot
>Don't worry, you got better by the next day, and are sent out again to look for an anomaly
>You talk to an old homeless man and go shopping

Past Thread: >>6358928
Archive: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Missval
General Pastebin: https://pastebin.com/5hFQZtc3
Character Sheet: https://pastebin.com/76f3BmBx
Twitter/X account for important announcements, contact and stuff: https://x.com/MissvalQM (I’m also in the /qst/ discord)
—---------

Your name is Shelly Suzume. You are, were, a Huntress from Haven Academy. A lot of things have happened to you. Apparently, you were the recent victim of what could be considered an 'accident,' where you fell into a contaminated Grimm pool. You died, of course. Quite a few times, actually. Fortunately for you, an enigmatic girl with powers related to life and death was there, helping you out along the way.

After the fifth or sixth death you were finally stable enough to stay alive. However, your body is changed now as a result. You have a pair of malformed, small wings on your back, a tough, slimy Grimm left arm, and some quite unsightly veins that extend towards your left eye. Other than that? You look quite good! Mostly. (Being positive here is quite helpful.)

Saying you're now half-Grimm would be… difficult to justify. You can feel what they feel, in the sense that you can sense negative emotions just like they do, and, in a sense, you're drawn towards them. You feel what they feel. Fortunately, you still have a conscious mind protecting you from going fully feral.

Your Semblance works, somewhat. However, it appears that you can't use it without overloading your targets with a certain… energy that is quite painful and violent. You can't control it yet, but, well, at least you're alive, right?

You've been traveling, uncovering fragments of your past after a month-long bout of amnesia, with Cerise at your side (A now pseudo-undead 'minion' who is always loyal to you, courtesy of the same girl who revived you). You made friends in Atlas, faintly rekindled a friendship from the past, and now you're back at your starting point. The fabled city of Kuchinashi, where a certain cynical, lean, and ragged man attacked you.

—---------

<span class="mu-s">How are we doing this?</span>

Votes are tallied every hour on the dot.

You have three basic Approaches that function as a base for your character's strengths and weaknesses when facing problems, represented after the three Noxian principles.

<span class="mu-s">MIGHT</span> — Strength, vigor, health, constitution, resistance, resilience, brutality, violence, combat.
<span class="mu-s">GUILE</span> — Dexterity, agility, precision, charisma, stealth, persuasion, illusion, deception.
<span class="mu-s">VISION</span> — Will, perception, magic, occult, intellect, knowledge, wisdom, strategy.

To perform a <span class="mu-s">roll</span> you just have to <span class="mu-s">roll 2d6</span>, plus whatever points you have in the most appropriate <span class="mu-s">Approach</span> for what you're trying to do.

<span class="mu-s">2-5 - Failure </span> — Suffer all of the appropriate consequences.
<span class="mu-s">6-9 - Complication</span> — The action is partially successful. Something goes wrong in the process.
<span class="mu-s">10+ Success! </span> — The action succeeds without problem. The higher the better!

<span class="mu-s">This post will be a one-shot quest; we'll run the full story and then be done with it for now!</span>

They'd warned you that the weather in the Freljord was the coldest in all of Valoran but you hadn't expected it to be this bad. Snow falls all around you as you try fruitlessly to peer into the horizon from the deck of the warship that's bringing you and a hundred other bastards plus a handful of commanding officers into the frozen hell that is the Freljord. You can't see anything, though; all you get is a white screen of fog and snow in every direction, were it not for the lapping of the waves against the black hull of the ship and the gentle rocking they bring you would think you're not even moving at all!

It's... scary, truth be told. You know this is your one chance, the only opportunity you've got and you don't want to screw it up, and still the fear that grips your heart doesn't let go. You look away from the sea of white to notice General Darron is there, walking from conscript to conscript, all in similar situations to you. Forced into this mission without even knowing what you're doing. All young. All lacking equipment beyond the bare minimum Trifarian armor and blades. Darron, a tall man with dark skin and an even darker suit of heavy armor, is approaching you and you quickly straighten your back, hand to your chest in the proper salute though he's already waving his hands dismissively as he gets closer.

"Name and origin?" He inquires, pulling a small wooden board with papers on it, it's clear he's doing a census of sorts for all the conscripts.

<span class="mu-s">Who are you?</span>
> Name
> Gender
> Nation of Origin

Also choose a Background, check the pic to see the options.

With the Tournament of Power brought to a close, the Seventh Universe has emerged triumphant once more. Led by the Saiyan warriors, the Seventh's victory was secured. And with the wish on the Super Dragon Balls used to restore the other universes that were eliminated and erased, the final hidden trial was passed, and all eight of the universes up for elimination were allowed to remain. Yet, even with this victory, peace doesn't last in the Seventh Universe for long. As old hatreds rise and long-buried grudges resurface, will you have what it takes to keep everything you've worked the last 28 years of your life to build? Or will those who seek your end ultimately triumph? That all depends on you, and your choices.

You the players will (most often) control Karn. A Saiyan man who has grown from his lowly beginnings as a mid-tier 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 over a dozen powerful and unique children, a mentor and teacher to his fellow Saiyans, and the indisputable winner of the Tournament of Power. Wielder of the Berserker Soul, and the powerful Stand Divine Dragon Force, you're fully equipped to handle any threat that comes your way. But what will you do when the threats aren't always physical, when you can't simply punch all your problems away?

Character sheets and other info:
https://controlc.com/46ec566d
https://pastebin.com/u/GrandDragonQM
Archive:
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=Saiyan+Conqueror+Quest
Help fund quest art commissions and get exclusive side stories as well as artwork by joining the patreon for only $1/month at https://www.patreon.com/GrandDragonQM

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.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HUT0uwSLQ3I


<span class="mu-s">SINISTER SCHEMES</span>

Suuri stopped in front of the mirror of their office. They stared at it, noticing a few imperfections that were not here before, shades of purple, red and gray barely visible beyond the void they took great care to coat themselves with.

Mortals care a great deal about appearances, both for social and cultural reasons, and in a way, spirits were no different, even if many would argue against it. Spirits will carelessly copy fauna and flora features, not as a way to fit in but as a way to cement their existence. A bird would be in the sky, a worm in the earth, a fish in the sea, by taking these shapes, the universe is most likely to recognize their existence as 'correct'.

Suuri dispels the black mist around their face to reveal what's underneath. A head not too unlike a rabbit, stitched up eyes, long ears that form a toothless crocodile maw, bleeding what seems to be grey mucus. These shapes used to be more coherent, once, Suuri used to look like something. Something simple, something that wasn't a horrible amalgamation of the many spirits they killed to reach their goal.

...

Suuri failed, they were very much aware of that. Perhaps one day, they could try again, under other circumstances, but their enemy was prepared now, they were expecting it, and they knew no one would be willing to take their side. Could the war be an opportunity? Times are changing in more ways than one, but would that be enough to turn the tides?

Suuri missed the days where its purpose was already fulfilled. When entropy progressed as it should, but now...

Now all that could be felt was M's attempt to keep the world spinning forevermore.

---

You've managed to convince the human to join your side to arrest that crazy guy with the anti-magic birds, but you could use more on your side. The next best option is a bodyguard, specifically one that protected caravans. You read up on their profile a bit more and you realize the bodyguard profession might be more serious than you expected.

Their job expects a lot of Life spell usage to boost yourself, which as you’ve been warned, tends to have drawbacks, especially when overused. Now, as a student who tends to use weaker Life spells meant for beginners also under the supervision of your teachers, you haven’t suffered many side effects, but this bodyguard wasn’t as lucky. The spells they used were fine in the short term, but with repeated use, slowly started eroding their mind and body. Past a certain point, they were more danger to the one they protected than anything else, and had to retire. Their conditions worsened, and the only ‘cure’ that was found was to reset both their mind and body, so now they’re suffering amnesia with very little memories of their time as a bodyguard.

Evaluating your options thoroughly, you decide that the best course would be to repair the mythal to the best of your ability. While a full restoration would take years and demand a small fortune in reagents, research, labor... mending a few fraying strands of the Weave here and there would get the Demon's Ingle in working order long enough to exact some advantage from it. And if, by chance, you were to make a few augmentations to the design that placed a geas on those wearing the Ingle's products, compelling them to obey you...

A few contingencies here, a redundancy there... by the gods, you are a genius. Truly, it is a shame that you are surrounded by troglodytes that could never appreciate the magnitude of your splendor. You'll need to cast some preliminary divinations, of course. And a way of concealing your work just in case - a few quasi-real illusions should-

"Mistress Phaere!" A familiar voice calls to you, far too giddy and pitched such that it resembles the scraping of chalk along a cavern wall. "The negotiations have been opened! Your presence is required immediately!"

> While every world travels slowly towards its end, yours has just begun its journey.
> For this world, the cycle of Gods and Men spins anew, on freshly birthed lands awash with life.
> You are a being of creation, a God, among the first divinities born not long after a world’s genesis. You possess innate knowledge and immense power, with which you may seize dominance and carve out a place for yourself in these savage, untamed wilds.

Welcome to a spinoff installation of Beings of Creation, a long-running tactical civ-style hexcrawl based on your imagination. You are a non-omniscient divine being of great power. You find yourself spontaneously brought into existence in a prehistoric, primeval world, untouched by Gods.
The rules are relatively simple, and may be picked up as you go, but the document below goes into detail. Most players are familiar veterans of the game, so don't be shy and feel free to ask questions.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1ogBctptpH_0fBm1RCE_Xu76MuGmHvTVf5LvDolBh3sE/edit?usp=sharing
https://discord.gg/6RtqYCN8

<span class="mu-r">With several gods already out of the running, feel free to post a god sheet in the thread if you’re interested in joining in.</span>

>Epoch 37 begins!

The past few months had been rough. Your severance package turned out to be worthless in the wake of post war inflation, and even in one of the supposed seats of Pact Joint Command you couldn't find a stable job. Trying find work outside the Pact was nearly impossible with how destroyed your reputation was with the Raihan Empire.

One drink turned to three quickly, and soon you were telling anyone who would listen about the hardships. The undue, unjust, and entirely of no fault of your own, hardships.
---
Make a choice. You are currently a little buzzed, but a few more drinks shouldn't hurt.

>Complain about having to moonlight in the pharmaceutical industry, and getting no thanks. A bump couldn't hurt.

>Decry the squalid living conditions you've had to endure, despite your charitable work at the local clinics. Pound one.

>Rail against Solei, who is an unimaginative prick. Take a shot.

You got hit by a truck and were about to be reincarnated into a different world, but the goddess you met in the afterlife was actually a huge pervert!?

She was so depraved that she wanted to have a loving family with you!

Also you had a harem of slaves. But they're all consenting and into it so it wasn't bad. It was clear that Herta, your first wife and the Goddess of Creation, was projecting her fetishes when she made the world. So you had to deal with the planet being mostly comprised of women that were desperate to have babies in a loving family.

Masochism wasn't unheard of when it came to women, with a large (and vocal) minority making it obvious that pain was their pleasure. Again, you had Herta to blame for that.

Not the worst place to get isekai'd into, all things considered.

Your name is John Doe. You have tons of beautiful wives that would happily follow your whims. You could make cool crap thanks your Lunacy Savantae; a type of madness/hyper-focus that let you build things that defied the laws of physics. From mechs to robots to more mundane things like typewriters and radios (even though the latter two already existed, the fact that a Savant created them apparently made them pretty desireable), all of it was possible so long as Herta gave you divine inspiration.

Life was good.

===