You are Joanna Farrell, a would be Knight from the Dominion of Royal Houses. You are among the few remaining survivors of House Meros, a minor House that fell during the turmoil and wars of the early 41st century. Now you and other aspirants have ventured out into the unexplored regions of the universe aboard the starship Bertrand to seek your fortune and gather resources to someday reclaim your lost House.
>The Crew The now landless 'Errant' Knight Dar'el Camdie has gathered your group of Knight aspirants in the hopes of forging you into a force to be reckoned with. Despite his age he's a capable fighter and tough by the standards of the Dro'all.
Chief Miriam Hannah is in charge of your ship the Bertrand and has been acting as its captain for years now.
Sergeant Mulyadi Reza commands the marines aboard ship and acts as your training officer.
Sergeant Ram is a veteran who helps lead the squad of marines under your command.
>The would be Knights Alar Ul'torel is a Dro'all Noble. A skilled Medic in addition to their training to one day become a Knight, they've gone out of their way to be friendly to everyone on the team.
Kalnit Bakor is a Kavarian. A drone specialist, you've made an agreement with him to trade a suit of Power Cell Armor between you depending on the requirements of the mission.
Ninnik Gehell is one of the diminutive Shallan. Though trained primarily as a pilot you've helped encourage them to keep up with the rest of the team in small arms combat.
Silvar Valnetios is one of the elf like Hune. Though sometimes distant he is a capable fighter, always ready to charge into the thick of the action.
Talaat Matevosian is another Human. A close combat specialist he has a fierce rivalry with Silvar, always striving to outdo him.
Vayall Trin'qua is a Dro'all Noble. Though still among the richest families of House Meros they've had trouble adjusting to the fall. A gifted sharpshooter.
As for you, you're nobody special. Not even from a noble family like most of the others. Your parents however were loyal to the House when it would have been all too easy to leave it behind. Because of that loyalty you were sent to the academy to be trained. You now have a chance to become an Errant Knight under Dar'el Camdie's tutelage. You'll still be without lands or a legitimate title, but it would be a first step to refounding or reclaiming House Meros and setting things right.
You are L2S Trollslayer Fiona Jarnafeldt, and you have taken a trip across the seedy underbelly of Helsinki.
What you saw down there couldn't be more different than the city up here. Humans and aberrations living together. The ruins of the old city, hidden by the construction of the stormdrains and the new city above, dinky and rustic but far more human than this sterile white alloy jungle. Children, running around. You don't see many children in Helsinki at all. So few people even have the right to have one, you haven't a clue where a school is in Helsinki, but the undercity has so many.
You weren't in your right mind for most of your adventure, having pulled an extreme measure of consuming an entire package of pervitin to avoid a highly dangerous target and seek a new exit. Of course, you lost focus and consciousness, losing control and wandering confused trying to stay undercover and getting into fights.
The drugs and the fighting took a physical and mental toll on you, but you're alive. You had to take a week long break to properly recover, consuming nothing but liquid food for the past few days. Now you have to get ready for the giant mutant man-eating birds that are taxonomically called the Swans of White Death that are migrating from the north.
But you're not thinking about the giant man eating swans or how your drugs made you think your sword was talking to you right now.
Your eyes are wide open staring at this eight foot tall nipponese lady that might just be an aberration.
The concept of this questline is simple: on the first phasis, (You) evolved the biology of a Xenos species of 40k, the Under Hunter. Under Hunter current sheet : https://pastebin.com/tKCdQ6Vt On the second phasis, a few players played their own Civ builder. https://pastebin.com/LLBm1mjj
Now, we are back in <span class="mu-s">The Crack</span>... And we'll play an influent individual!
This quest will be about one particlarly influent individual, and her fate that will shape Hunterkind forever : Easy difficulty - winners of the Tribe Age >A BurningGrass military leader and her unification of Hunterkind through military conquest >A Badback editor--in-chief of Peak's High and Crack's Low and the unification of Hunterkind through propaganda >A Cerulean Headmaster, unification of Hunterkind through common education and upbringings Medium difficulty >A Grassgreen's attempt to unify Hunterkinds by imposing the superior culture as the common ground of the species >A Whitemane's attempt to unify Hunterkind tribes in a great council of tribes Hard difficulty : >Ghostclaw's Avatar fighting against Globalism >A Jupiter's survivor and her fight in the name of Tzeentch
You will follow Jinx, an up and coming treasure hunter who's on her first expedition to an underground city to nab a golden idol that's sure to be worth a fortune!
Your name is Polka Gay, and as of late, you've been stuck writing LOSER stories for your HIT magazine, D.A. Voyeur. It wasn't always like this though....
In your heyday, you were a legend. Things like uncovering the Bog-Hogger of West-Creek and investigating the nefarious local STRING QUARTET put. you. on. the. map. Hell, you even dismantled a polycule or two. If there was ever a mystery within the 30 mile radius of this shitty college town you call home, then you've gotten to the bottom of it.
However, times change. Interesting cases dry up quick, and people move on & graduate. A good journalist knowns to never give up, but a great one knows you HAVE to keep things fresh.
That's why this- THIS is your big break.
>You look over to the ticket sitting on your desk.
- Springfield Museum is proud to present: The Anomie Manuscript -
This manuscript, famous in numerous occult circles, has never been made public. EVER! Myths abound regarding its mystical properties have been theorized for centuries. Super powers, resurrecting the dead, even low cost transitioning could be made possible using the knowledge found within this LEGENDARY artifact.
No one knows where it came from, but that doesn’t matter. It’s here, in your town, right now, and the opening is TODAY.
Of everything you’ve seen in your time as an investigative journalist, you know this story will take the cake. You can just FEEL it.
Opening your journal up to page one, you jot down:
~Uncover the secrets of the Anomie Manuscript~
(You used to not need to do this, but after the abduction you can't be too sure anymore).
-Pause- With your journal and pen filling one pocket, your ticket safely tucked inside as a bookmark, you have an entire pocket worth of room for one last tool.
What do you decide to bring with you on this harrowing new case?
You come into the world on a cold morning in a room that used to be a storehouse.
Your mother bleeds on a straw mattress while the midwife works between her legs and your father prays in the hall. He prays standing. Kneeling is hard for him now. His left leg was shattered below the knee two years ago by a mace blow at the siege of Chauvency, and the bone never quite set the right way. He does not limp so much as lurch. He was captured in that same battle, dragged from under his dead horse, and held for a ransom that cost him everything.
Everything. The silver plate. The grain stores. The warhorses, all three. The income from two villages, pledged to the abbey of St. Rémy for six years. And the castle -- your great-great-grandfather's castle, the seat of the family for five generations -- signed over to the man who captured him. Sire Gérard de Valenne, who lives there now with his wife and children and hounds, and who nods to your father at mass on Sundays with the faintly superior courtesy reserved for men one has ruined.
There is only the manor house now. Stone foundations, timber above, a leaking roof your father lacks the constitution or the silver to mend. A mere forty souls in the village depend on upon him. Yet he serves them well. He hears their complaints, settles their quarrels, forgives their debts even when he shouldn't. The old servants, the ones who knew him from his boyhood and followed him from the relinquished castle, say he is a different man since the siege. They mean it as praise. Certainly, your mother found a new depth of love for him in his weakness, his humiliation. You were, perhaps, the product of it.
The midwife holds you up, still bloody, and you scream.
She carries you to the hall, where your father turns from his prayers. He takes you in his arms -- carefully, because his grip is not what it once was -- and studies your face with grave attention, as though your destiny were writ in the lines above your eyes and he alone the augur who could decipher them. The midwife watches too. So does old Agnès, your mother's woman, who has opinions about everything and a liberty to air them that could only come from long, trusted service.
Naturally, it is Agnès who breaks the peace.
>She says you have your father's jaw, set firm, even now, as though daring the world to move you. A proud nature. >She says you have your mother's eyes, wide open, watching, beautiful, taking everything in and giving nothing back. A patient nature. >She says you have your grandfather's ears, big for a newborn, with fleshy lobes and disposition which seems to suggest their frequent use. A suspicious nature. >Write-in
>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
> 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/1eOyLUfkbgVFHjIPmNmcW9G2wQE7CZenv69m9yQF_aMY https://discord.gg/SaH8tBttx
<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>
hi fags give me a quest i cut a lot and what shape should i cut or what should i cut in my thigh need answer quickly bc i cut tomorrow oer at wednesday
The toast, accompanied by sound of glass striking against glass, has been echoed by a diverse array of voices.
You were not paying much mind to your own, but you've gotten quite appreciative of those of your crew:
The calm barytone of Tufferson Kris, your krogan friend and colleague.
The enthusiastic lilt veiled by synthetic buzz of envirosuit electronics belonging to Lea'Fari, a quarian pilgrim.
Deceptively natural voice that Eve, your synthetic comrade, had chosen as her default one.
And then there was a chorus of voices that you were only recently beginning to familiarize yourself with: those of the O'Riley family and their closest friends, with whom you were currently sharing a celebration in a homely little tavern at the edge of the freshly cleared green zone of the gradually reconstructed city of Klondike.
"...and to memory of those, whose souls may now rest free." One of those voices, an older, more subdued, continued, sobering the mood of the gathering somewhat as the cheer gave way to a moment of reverent silence.
You observed the moment of quiet as the family took this time to reminisce over the loss that had cast a blanket of bitterness over jubilant mood they had shared with rest of the sapient people of the galaxy following defeat of the Reapers. And while the gathered clan members contemplated on their personal memories, your own thoughts drifted towards your own recent hectic past.
