Misfortune has struck, and you've been dragged down to Hell.
You have no idea as to how long you have been trapped in this place. All you can tell is that the screaming is quieter this far out. And somehow, inexplicably, you feel... safe? Yes, safe. For the first time in a very long time.
But you soon find out that you are not alone.
The bowl in front of you is filled to the rim with <span class="mu-r">blood,</span> bright red and lukewarm. A long wooden spoon soaks in the spilled vitality.
On the other side of the table, something smiles down at you, beaming with great expectation. You can hear nothing but the deep, ragged breathing of the thing. And then, with a rasping voice like rusting metal:
"Well? Aren't you going to tell me how it tastes?"
Please recommend an action. >WAIT. >ATTACK. >DRINK. >WHAT ARE YOU? >WHAT IS THIS PLACE? >
Different values open up new choices. Different choices lead to different results. Do keep in mind that stories where <span class="mu-r">blood</span> is shed mostly end in death. <3
A foot comes down on your head and grinds your nose into the ground.
You understand some guys are prone to liking this sort of thing, especially when it comes from a beautiful woman of gentle birth with a rack twice the size of her head. Unfortunately you happen to be a woman yourself, with a strong preference for men, and an even <span class="mu-i">stronger</span> distaste for bitches like the one who's decided to stomp on your head. The front row view to the silk beneath that peaks out from beneath her skirt makes you more judgmental of her taste in underwear than it excites you.
"Pigs?" you ask between a mouthful of dirt. "<span class="mu-i">Seriously?</span>"
"A washboard <span class="mu-i">and</span> a pervert!" The black-skinned beauty hollers with laughter. She gives you a shove with her foot and a kick to your ribs. "Perhaps I should report you to the <span class="mu-i">Collegia Administratum</span> for harassment. They'd be doing a useless flatty like you a favor if they kicked you out!"
Her posse giggles. You haven't bothered learning any of their names, not the bitch and not her friends, it's just not worth the effort. Just like everyone else, they insisted you lacked the <span class="mu-i">assets</span> for sorcery. That if you wanted to join a Adventuring Guild, you'd be better off learning sword arts like a man, become the rare female warrior who dodges an unfortunate end. At least they had the tact to simply say "you lack the swell of magic".
"Not... useless..." you grumble through the dirt.
"Hoh...?" the bitch casts a spell to pull you roughly from the ground, dragging your sore and beaten body to eye level. "The flatty thinks she's not useless? You've had more than twenty years to swell with magic, and what have you to show for it, huh? No, no, let me show you the difference between our stature."
The bitch pressed her chest to yours, a common way for sorceresses to assert dominance by comparing the magic that stirs in their bosom. Despite your twenty one years and your otherwise impressive stature that exceeds six feet... this rich girl near a foot shorter than you easily smothers what little magic swells above your heart. Your face twists in disgust, as you've always hated such rituals...
Though a small voice wonders if you'd hate it less if <span class="mu-i">you</span> had something more impressive to show.
"Do you feel it?" the woman purrs. "This is the gap between a flatty like you and the magical might of the well endowed. You should meditate on your deficiencies and consider where your strengths lie. After all, the <span class="mu-i">Collegia Espada</span> could always use more orc-bait~!"
As she lets you drop to the ground, your eyes narrow. Telling you to go become a swordswoman is one thing. Disrespecting the fate suffered by so many female warriors is another thing entirely.
<span class="mu-s">What do you do?</span> >Leave before you do something stupid. >Use a [Cantrip] to light her hair on fire. >Use a [Cantrip] to cut her blouse open. >Use a [Cantrip] to flip her skirt. >Use a [Cantrip] to dunk her with water. >Something else?
(Let's see How this goes, been awhile since I've ran a quest here.)
You are standing in the middle of Central Cities mall, Central Mall, and thus far the day hasn't been the worst. You woke up today and managed to get cleaned up and ready just in time before you were thrown into the mass transport of your little organization. The initial entrance went smoothly, you managed to look adequately intimidating while your boss did their big speech despite your costume. Your squad even got to be placed on acquisition rather than perimeter duty, meaning all you had to do was load the loot and not deal with the chance a superhero might show up.
When Speedfreak showed up, well it got a bit bad. Speedsters sucked to fight, but there was only one of him and we knew staying in groups provided us some minimal safety.
Really it was thanks to your boss that kept things from going any worse.
Who is your boss?
>The Silver Don: He's a guy who styles himself in classic gangster chic, pinstripe suits, hats, gloves, the classic professional criminal get up. It's just that his is made of some weird shiny metal making him bullet proof and weigh a ton and has hidden tommy guns in his sleeves. You of course are dressed similarly, except yours is just a normal gangster suit that comes with a face mask to hide your identity and properly dehumanize you, standard henchman style. You do get weapons themed of mobster stuff though, with made men possibly getting better suits, so that's neat.
>Empress Feliine: A Metahuman with cat powers, she is running around in a sort of speudo aztec/jungle aesthetic. Furs and boiled leather, but keeping it light so she can stay agile. You get to wear plenty more leather padding, fur, and of course a stone like cat mask with prominent ears. Low tech weapons, but sometimes Empress lets her minions use magic stuff, the ones that impress her at least.
>New Wave: An Anarcho-Technocrat, which I think they explained isn't contradictory like i thought it was, straped in a cyberpunk like aesthetic. To describe it is difficult, but imagine a named gang boss in a cyberpunk game mixed with a mad scientist, and you got it. Neon lights and pulsing wires covering them and their lab/trench coat as they move around using gadgets. You also get this lovely chaotic style, with your choice of either face mask, oversized goggles, or whatever as long as your face is hidden enough to meet henchman standards. You get access to more high tech weapons made by the boss, and loyal minions getting cybernetics (if you're into that stuff)
Welcome to /qtg/, a place to talk about quests. Previous thread >>6150243
>What is a quest? An interactive story in which a Quest Master (QM) writes and provides the readers with options on how to proceed — similar to a choose-your-own-adventure book or an old text adventure
>Formatting guide: Only the thread's OP can format. Note that should the OP change ID, they will lose this ability as well. Remove the spaces between the [] brackets and the letters: Bold: <span class="mu-s">text</span> Italics: <span class="mu-i">text</span> Red: [ red ] <span class="mu-r">text</span> [ /red ] Blue: [ blue ] <span class="mu-b">text</span> [ /blue ] Green: [ green] <span class="mu-g">text</span> [ /green ]
>Formatting guide for everyone: Dice (type this in “options”): dice + [no. of dice]d[no. of sides on the dice] (optionally you can add modifiers: dice + [no. of dice]d[no. of sides on the dice]+[modifier]; for a negative modifier type: +-[modifier]
Examples: dice+1d100 = a 1d100 roll, dice+1d100+10 = a 1d100 roll with a +10 modifier.
Spoiler: spoiler or by pressing alt+s in-thread (doesn't work in OP)
>QM question: What quest (or quests) inspired you to run? Why?
>Player question: What were your favorite quests of 2024? Why?
>General question: What would you like to see out of the board, and questing in general in 2025? Is there a specific quest you hope to run, or a pitch you have if you're unable to run but want to gauge interest?
>Lurker question: Suck it up and brave the timer, nothing makes a QM happier than lots of votes!
>Miscellaneous question: Did you make a New Year's Resolution? How's it going? Better yet, what's your quest new year's resolution?
You are Anon, an albino man, probably an incarnated angel, and something of a self-made warrior-magus who can remember only faint vestiges of his past, is unaware of his real name, and is a Master in the Akeldama Great Holy Grail War, which is taking place in a city in an artificial world called Akeldama. Your Servant is Avenger of Red, a winged girl wielding considerably powerful magic who has declined to tell you her true name so far. Most recently you relocated from your old base after a bloody skirmish, tested out your angelic transformation, kissed Truvietianne Edelfelt, figured out how to purify magical energy, and accepted a friendly challenge to a mace-duel from the Servant Rider of Red.
The howling of villagers had pierced through the shambling woods.
With how upset they were, and their chasing, they might just as well have scared the noonday sun into dusk.
Crud! Those villagers did not have to punch your party an early ticket to Heaven.
Or Hell. You paid good money for your party. And getting chummy was not a part of their stipend.
You could only guess where their souls were laid after this mess.
At least they could have spared one maid... Another pair of fleeing hands and feet could have taken care of luggage duty… What you were able to grab with you before dashing.
Which was not a lot, really. There were the items on your person too, which still wasn’t a lot. Still. Still.
The clothes on your back, yellow crosses, a bell, your manual. But still—
Scratch that. Forget the manual.
Not when she had taken full custody of the thing. Good grief! It was just one problem after another.
After you had cut your pursuers loose and got your silken robe torn at the hem, she popped out of nowhere.
She pretended to hide her giggling, spying at the tattered inquisitor's gown flashing your hosiery-wrapped ankles. But boy, she was bad at it.
It has been three months since you and your wife finally escaped that astral prison. In the material world centuries have passed and the world is in quite a state, but you've been admittedly slow to realize this, as you've both been extremely busy having sex. Nothing unusual about that - just making up for lost time.
And when not making love to your wife, you were engaging in violence. Sometimes to earn the money to pay for the fine food and drinks you were also enjoting, and to replace the fine beds you were ruining, and sometimes to punish men who dared covet your wife because of her radiant beauty. But also because societal norms have taken a massive backslide since that demon war you keep seeing monuments to. Apparently these days people will look at two elven women traveling together and consider them "easy prey".
Nevertheless, excess repetition can make even the most exciting of acts grow tired and dull. With your mutual passions on the wane, you rolled out of bed one morning, slapped your wife's glorious ass, and let her know that it's time to start making your mark on the world again. And she turned toward you with a lazy smile and let you know that she was able to sense the presence of something you assumed lost to time's passage - your wedding gift to her.
And so, following the thread of her magic, you journeyed north, to a corrupted, barren land that hosted the last and most powerful of the demon cults that have sprung up during and after the war. A cult that was finally facing its demise as a coalition of five kingdoms, three religious orders, and at least one dragon was marching upon its great fortress city hidden deep in a barren mountain range.
But armies are slow, cumbersome things and so you caught up quickly. You watched it march. Remarked upon the myriad strands of Fate circling above it - a telltale sign of a divine game reaching its conclusion. Promising valor and tragedy in equal measure. And the birth of a new Hero - or so your wife claims after studying the strands for a time. Which you don't doubt, as she is far more knowledgeable in those things than you.
But the contempt you feel toward the divinities that make mortals their playthings aside, it is of no concern, for even before your imprisonment, you've both reached Second Enlightenment and both chose to sever yourselves from Fate. So the plan is simple: you will retrieve your wife's property from the fortress and leave. So all that's left is to decide on how you will enter:
>You would join the army right before the assault, disguised as one of the many mercenaries that tagged along. The disguises you devised are impeccable! >With the demon worshippers distracted by the assault, you'd slip in through the secret passage over on the other side of the mountain. Because what cultist fortress wouldn't have one? >Why overcomplicate things? You'd show up at the fortress a week before the army arrived, walk up and kick in the gate. They'd never expect that.
You are Kuroda Haruka and <span class="mu-r">King Lot of Lothian, Orkney and Camelot.</span>
Previously went off to recruit some mortals. It was a smashing success convincing them to come to Camelot. Unfortunately, most of them have problematic personality issues or are just plain crazy. That's what you get for recruiting kids from a school known to deal with troubled kids.
You also sent teams of vassals to raid the hateful World for resources; most of these teams were successful and came back home in a timely manner.
All except for Team Feline who had the most simple and easiest task. They've somehow gotten into difficulties. Your doughty Baphomet vassals aren't helpless; they're capable of extracting themselves out of trouble unless it is something that they can't deal with.
You set forth to the rescue with your trusty Guide, valiant Bodyguard and anxiety-ridden Dowser in tow.
That's when you discovered a fake Cath Palug has captured your vassals and cat. There are demands for a ransom, and you're willing to try negotiating, but the fake is too busy dealing with a problem. You also discovered that the more fresh victims verbally declare that the real Cath Palug is dead or call out the fake, the weaker the monster gets.
Not that it helps you out too much at the moment.
Two Knights of the Round Table have invaded its domain and are trying to kill the fake. They're so distracted the enemies don't realize that you're even in. Your Namesake helpfully identifies the two Knights as Merlin and King Arthur...
Last time, you began the day with the idea of introducing your Bestie to your family and friends, then this all shaped into a different monster, and now you’re at Nariko’s former luxurious apartment trying to enjoy lunch together. One that you cooked.
You took the chance to reconnect with Chio — who pretended to be amnesic about the events of the Bubble — but due to a misunderstanding by Nariko, you’re in her room taking care of this sickly mother with her daughter. Yes, Chio’s excessive blushing made your OG hobo believe that she was feverish from overworking. It appears to happen often, but this is the first time Nariko has decided to put her foot down and force her mom to take a break.
“F-For the last time, I’m not sick, Nariko! Stop disobeying me!” Chio grumbles as she’s inside the bed.
“I’m sorry, Mother. The thermometer clearly stated your fever!” Nariko won’t relent. Going full-tomato gets you feverish? The more you know... “I’m no passive bystander any longer, you must rest!”
“Okay, here we go…” You arrive with the food on a tray, you had to go back to the kitchen to find one. “Still warm, I feel.” More like you’re praying… You didn’t do all of this for it to be cold!
“Thank you, Johnny!” Nariko appreciates you dearly. “My mother is overwhelmingly stubborn, I know with your presence she has no option but to behave.”
“I’m NOT stubborn.” Chio grits her teeth.
“Then prove it! Rest!” Nariko challenges. Chio is clearly not prepared to handle her daughter talking back.
“Or eat. Your food’s ready.” You wiggle your eyebrows like the one-note character you become after cooking.
“T-This is so upsetting...” Chio misses the happiness she felt a few minutes ago.
“Well, it doesn’t have to be. The others want to cheer you up.” You announce what Yu Yan, Crossbill, and Amelia want to do. “A happy patient is a healthy patient.”
“That doesn’t make a lick of sense.” Chio doesn’t want anyone here. Her is mouth watering a little...
“I have to concur...” Nariko clearly doesn’t like going against your idea, but she has to.
“It’s Yu Yan’s idea though. She watched a movie about a clown doctor curing people with laughter and/or witchcraft, then there’s a murder mystery at the end or something.” You quote Yu Yan word by word even though you didn’t pay much attention.
“If that’s something they believe will help, there’s no reason to decline.” Nariko thinks this through and comes out with the best conclusion.
“There are plenty of reasons.” Chio frowns.
“And we will use none of them…” You shrug.
The Objective is to cheer up Chio to cure her!
<span class="mu-s">What do you do?</span>
>Bring Amelia first. >Bring Crossbill first. >Bring Yu Yan first. >Just ask Chio to eat her food again. That’ll “cure” her. >Write In.
