>What is this? "The Mystery Dungeons 2e" is a text-based role-playing game created to expand on the setting created by the spinoff series, Pokémon Mystery Dungeon. This has no story relation to the first quest, and is its own new story. Players still isekai themselves into the world and become Pokémon, going on adventures with their newfound guild mates! SFW ONLY
>I'd like to participate! Currently, we're at full capacity as far as threads on /qst/ are concerned. However, there's always the chance that space for another player may grow in the future, or that you simply wish to play outside of /qst/ and the quests hosted here. There are other ways to participate, about which you can learn and do here: https://matrix.to/#/#the-mystery-dungeons-2nd-edition:matrix.org
>Okay, now what? After you've read up and familiarized yourself with the rules and setting, be sure to hop into the Element: https://matrix.to/#/#the-mystery-dungeons-2nd-edition:matrix.org. Everything that doesn't involve Main Quests occurs here and is helpful for coordination.
You are...not Tai Lung however much you wish you were.
You are, on the other hand, bleeding, tired, and standing before a group of men who wish to kill you and everyone in the city. Especially the group of people trapped in rubble behind you. You flourish your katana for a moment before flicking it clean of blood and sheathing it. Every fiber of your being screamed to simply move forward and cut down those before you. You already took several lives today, what did it matter if you took more? It seemed like no matter how hard you tried you were always going to be a killer. Now was high time that you stop pretending to be something you're not. Still, you somehow could not bring yourself to do so. You just can't help but thinking about what Tai Lung would think of you. The mixture of frustration and confusion at your inner conflict causes you to smile at the irony at it all. It seems like in the end, you were simply a failure in all aspects. A killer who couldn't bring himself to kill. A broken, failure of an assassin that was burdened by feelings. You couldn't help but scoff and laugh at it all as more invaders arrive while you draw a line in the ground. If you were to die a failure then at the very least you hoped it'd look like you died a good man.
You crack your knuckles and push the pain lancing all throughout your body. A real hero would give a speech right now. Something that inspired hope in the weak and drove fear into those who wished to do wrong just like Tai Lung would. But you were not Tai Lung and you weren't a hero. You were just someone who was too tired to think up false platitudes for the people around him. You hold out your hands and ready yourself before shouting to the heavens, "You have one choice! Flee now or I'll line the streets with your broken bodies!"
You are Brian Wilson. Your band is on top of the world. David just quit the band. You are a God unto men. And Mike is looking really fucking punchable right now. What do you do?
Going to keep things simple for this one. Roll for things like attacks and extreme actions (eg: jumping out a window, or running over Steve Love). Enjoy.
You wake up in a bed with music softly playing on the other side of a wall. There's a mountain of blankets covering you, but despite that, you still feel cold. The room is surrounded by books, books, mountains of books. Not in any shelves, or organised to any capacity. They're just stacked up in precarious piles, with thin spaces for walking. The only other things of note are a nightstand, and several thin strips of a dark and glossy material tittering gently in the frame of an open window. >Inspect books >Inspect nightstand >Inspect strips >Inspect window >Inspect self >Other
//came on this board with this story a bit over a year ago, but it didn't get too far because i was busy with life. well i'm still busy but i love this world and its characters too much to give up on them. thank you kindly for participating.
Unmistakable. The wafting smell, of chocolate above the mossy tree bark of the woods has hastily grabbed your attention. Jerking you closer with an almost instinctual howl. The gnawing sensation in your gut has grown untenable. A floating bar of neon green chocolate hovers slightly above a table. It seems to slightly billow with shimmering emerald fog. Sitting at the table next to the chocolate is a purple haired, green-skinned witch. The smirking witch looks at you with a knowing expression. The old growth forest which had been loud with critters, crickets, birds and other chattering creatures has fallen entirely silent upon your finding of it. The witches enchanting amber eyes look over you. Without a single utterance, you can feel it, she beckons you, to take the chocolate. Your mind frenzied with ecstasy imagining it. To bite into its firm sweet texture and taste its rich no doubt creamy flavor. To soothe your ravenous hunger with its impressive size. Even if you only ate half, surely it would sustain you for some time. The chocolate itself, It reminds you so of the bakeries and sweet shops at home. Of which the aromas could always entice you even from a distance. But now here in these woods you've found this small bounty. It's yours, all yours... This sweet treasure of confection is ripe for the taking! You salivate slightly arms trembling, breath quickening as you almost involuntarily reach for it. Your heart beats faster. Quivering slightly as sweat beads down your forehead. -#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#
Option A) ITS MINE! I'LL TAKE IT! BEST TO TAKE IT BEFORE SOMEONE ELSE COMES ALONG, OR THIS WITCH CHANGES HER MIND! (EAT THE CHOCOLATE!)
Option B) Don't take the chocolate. Be cautious. Study the Witch. Your hunger may be intense, but its worth taking the time to critically examine this situation.
Option C) Write-In your own custom answer for consideration.
<span class="mu-i">"I refuse to believe that mankind has hope."</span> -Corrupted fragment recovered from extended data-meditation on newly restored relics
Having made a new... <span class="mu-i">buddy</span>, you enter the personal forge of another friend, who promises by ritual to help you uncover the secrets of the lost titan, Corvus Lictor.
You possess an amount of Strain equal to your Conditioning score. When attempting actions beyond your current capacity, you gain a point of Strain. Attempting to Strain while at maximum Strain will result in a Strain Check. During a Strain Check, roll 1d10 for every point of the relevant Parameter. Results that are 6 or above count as one success. Results of 10 count as two successes. Three successes must be rolled to avert a critical failure. Fail or pass, after a Strain Check, you cannot Strain again until you restore your Strain by seeking shelter.
<span class="mu-s">This quest allows you to designate a second-choice vote on decisions with three or more options before Write-Ins.</span> When votes are totaled, the option with the least votes for it will be removed, with votes for that option instead being changed to the second-choice of those voters. Second-choice votes are also used to break ties. This helps increase the accuracy of votes, but is not mandatory. Please specifically mark your second-choice as such if you do so.
Vote stay open for a minimum of six hours, but will usually take longer.
A note: My writing style is pretty dry, but don't mistake that for it being serious.
Welcome into the Bronze-Clay age of a far away unnamed star. After evolving in The Crack, the species known as Under Hunter reached Sapience and organized in tribes. 7 remains, struggling to cleanse the rot of a Nurgle-backed demonic invasion.
The WindPsykers, claymakers and locust of bad luck of GrassGreen The Isolationist, God-among-hunter-walking of Ghostclaw The StrongHunters, masters of the biggest spans of land, lords of BurningGrass The Tzeench-touch opportunists of Jupiter The Archers, Merchants, Slavers and Warptrailers of BadBack The Farmers, one-with-the-Drifters of Whitemane The scholars of Cerulean wise in the ways of gods and research
This should be the last thread of the Skirmish-tribe phasis thing.
>Be reborn as warhammer fantasy skaven >Get squeezed out of something I don't wanna think about >can't see shit because I was literally born two seconds ago. >One of my larger brothers eats me immediately and kills me >mfw
You shall assist the Fabricator-General. After all, this concerns the lives of innocents, your masters’ descendants whom had done no wrong other than suffer from the crime of ignorance.
Gane shall have his voidyards, not voidships, though those will be easily produced when you choose for them to be as the voidyards that you make will be of Federation standard. They will certainly stand to anyone whom witnesses them, of that there is no doubt. However, their automation and great production capacity means that the only possible bottlenecks of production would be nothing more than providing the sheer amounts of raw materials required.
Though you shall also go further than that, with a few commands the autoforge could be quickly ordered to begin producing robotic legions that shall easily cut through the greenskin hordes. As well anyone else that might pose a threat to you.
At the end of such a process, Gane will no longer be able to sequester you. That means that he either truly underestimates you, he has no other choice, or he has a trump card, most likely the small device in his possession.
You need answers, you needed those answers yesterday as no matter how much Belogyma may proclaim to worship a you she has in her mind, she undoubtedly filtered the information she thinks you would find apprehensive, she might still obey Gane as well. There are just too many unknows to be entirely sure all of the information that you required is as accurate as you would like.
<span class="mu-i">"You show some sense at last.”</span> You begin in response to him lifting your inhibition of more drones. <span class="mu-i">“The good news Volteus is that I can do something more besides being broken. The bad news is that: I could have done FAR more before. So how about we talk, Volteus ? If you can't do this, then working together becomes, I am afraid, impossible with your stubbornness.”</span>
