You find a an ancient map from the old continent your people came from a long time ago, fleeing from an ancient undead plague. The plague seems to have stopped, and so the continent should be rife for conquest!

You assemble a team and traverse the waves!


You have up to 1000 points to prepare your voyage (you can spend less if you want, but not more).

Ships (you need enough ships to carry all your people and stuff, otherwise some of it will be left behind):

Caravel (capacity for 30 people - it is a sailship, can't move without winds) - 50 points
Rowship (capactiy for 50 people - it is fast but has no weapons, can only ram) - 100 points
Galley (capacity for 200 people - big and slow, but carry several ballista, can sail and row) - 500 points

Population:

Skilled Laborers (5 points)
Masters (20 points)
Legendary (50 points)

Apothecaries
Craftswomen
Diplomats
Engineers
Farmers
Fishermen
Gatherers
Hunters
Jewelers
Managers
Medics
Metalsmiths
Miners
Sages
Schoolteachers
Soldiers
Stoneworkers
Strategists
Tamers
Woodworkers

Other (specify)

(1 point each)

Unskilled Laborers - these people have no particularly useful skills, but they can still haul goods just fine

Leader

Charismatic - little more than a peasant leader, but the people love you and follow you (100 points)
Courtesan - leading through your female wiles, your ease in making allies is unparalled (100 points)
General - you're recognized amongst the best military strategists in the world (100 points)

Optional:

Noble - a member from one of the ancient houses, adds legitimacy to your claim (+100 points)
Monarch - a direct descendant of royalty, who are fabled to descend from the gods themselves (+300 points)
Magician - someone with proven supernatural powers, possibly a half-demon (+500 points)

Resources (each 100 units takes 100 population worth of space; the number listed below is cost in points per unit):

Cattle – 6
Cloth – 12
Cotton – 8
Dyes – 15
Furs – 10
Grain – 4
Hemp – 5
Herbs – 7
Horses – 14
Lumber – 3
Mana Crystals – 20
Ore – 7
Rum – 13
Silver – 16
Sugar – 6
Tobacco – 11
Tools – 9
Trade Goods – 10
Whale Oil – 17
Wine – 12

You may also choose your landing spot on the map.

You are Tristain d’Rusalka, a noble from the United Kingdom of Fodlan born with unique abilities bestowed upon you by the Goddess. You have journeyed across the sea to the desert kingdom of Morfis after receiving an invitation to join a mysterious competition. Though you know little of the trials that lie ahead, the winner of this contest has been promised the hand of Morfis’ Princess, Yulia Xan Phanes, in marriage. Seeking adventures, thrills, and battles that would be worthy of your might, you embarked on this strange voyage with nothing but your trusted axe.

You vanquished a group of pirates that attacked your ship, making several new allies: Alvin, a merchant captain and ‘Adjunct’ of the Royal College of Sorcery, May, a stowaway and thief of remarkable skill, and Adeline, a knight from a disgraced noble family.

You then arrived in Solis, a port city, where circumstances brought you into confrontations with both the locals as well as other contenders for Yulia’s hand. Your strength saw you through these trials, and you acquired additional allies: Cassius, a Morfisian Sorcerer with an admiration for Fodlan, Elric, a young Fodlan noble with little ability, and Cuthbert, a war veteran and Elric’s bodyguard.

After stocking up on supplies and choosing one of two travel routes, you and your party were ready to depart for Morfis, the City of Illusions. In 30 days, the competition would begin in earnest. But for now, you must travel through the desert, facing any perils that may come your way.

>Tristain d’Rusalka
>Level 24/50 Lord (EXP: 0/100)
HP: 51 (120%)
Strength: 26 (65%)
Magic: 18 (40%)
Speed: 14 (30%)
Defense: 20 (60%)
Resistance: 14 (40%
Luck: 12 (55%)

>Personal Skill: Resolve (When HP falls to less than 35%, Strength, Speed and Defense increase by 7)

>Weapons: Steel Axe (+12 Attack), Hammer (+8 Attack, 3x attack vs Armor Knights)

>Spells:
Fire (+3 DMG, 5 Uses)

>Abilities:
Crest of Indech: You are able to make a follow-up attack on one foe, regardless of Speed. (4 Charges)
Crest of Macuil: Double the attack power of a magic spell. (3 Charges)
Combat Art: Earthsplitter: Cleave all enemies standing two rows in front of you. (Cost: 1 Crest of Indech Charge)

>Items: Concoction x3 (+20 HP)

>Gold: 0g

>Tristain’s Party: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1mrlj-c7Oe51qIoat3LJfDSv0Bw2nmExQT2EqlKlWPGw/edit?usp=sharing

>Combat Rules:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1m_UvIqCmBRzmrlu0mvttVkGRRI8bIkT6iTTrDR_J5zo/edit?usp=sharing

>Archive: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Sorcerer%20Kingdom

ITQ you will buy and sell goods, find a place to live, basic Jobs, and things to do to live through a zombie apocalypse. Zombies are slow. Plenty of things can maim or kill you. Zombie bites can be treated, but there are side effects, or you may screw it up and die. So let's avoid that, OK?

You stand in line among several other people, anonymous faces, you didn't count them. You've not seen them before. Some in shoes, some barefoot, one with a blood stained spear, and all of you dirty and unwashed in the cool of October. You're on the outskirts Northwest of Houston in the shell of what was an old big box store, in the Greens Point area (Guns Point as the locals say). The proprietor has a fan blowing across the line of you, and he has been good enough to put up a pop-up tent outside the entrance to shield everyone from the sunlight, but it's stuffy with all of you crowded together and waiting. On either side of the Line, are cages full of dead eyed ghouls, locked in for now, but watching you.

The Merchant calls out Next and you step up with your goods. You walk up to a bullet proof Plexiglass window with a pass through container, and big sign over the glass stating:
>The outbreak was started on borrowed money, No Credit.
You are yourself, just yourself. Your actions are your own choice, but the outcome is determined by post ID roll.
Roll for your saleable goods layout by final digit.
Subsequent rerolls to determine simple value, 2nd to last digit = quantity, final digit of simple pass fail 1-5 poor, 6-0 good
1-backpack of junk, can be sorted for valuables
2-live wild animal, must be examined to determine value
3-Clothing, must be checked for damage
4-Food, may be packaged or raw
5-Contraban: cigarettes, alcohol, pornography, drugs
6-Weapons: may be functional, broken parts
7-Ammunition: may be boxed or loose, good or bad
8-Medicine: may be prescription or over the counter
9-Chemicals: wet or dry, labeled packaged or not
0-information: he may or may not care
Doubles= special item
poor items are worth 1/2 head, good items are worth 1 head
Your ID characters, in order, determine the quality of your starting gear
>Head
>Backpack
>Chest
>Arms
>Pants
>Belt
>Shoes
>Weapon
Letter=Nothing
Number=common variety, used condition
Symbol=Superior variety and New Condition

>IMPORTANT
>[Returning Players, please use your old name from the previous game, if you want to keep your progress, and so I'll know it's you. New players, go as big as you like with your character, I write fairly in depth scenes to keep the game interesting. You can die, but I'm not out to get you. I play as the Merchant, and narrate the game. If you want to talk IRL, ask a question, or suggest something, use these square brackets [ ], so I'll know. Welcome]

See previous chapters
>>6046391
>>6087641

Quest fell off because I took a quick nap. I am sorry for it not being archived correctly. Will see if I can get it back from like moe or something. Annoying.

Here is the prompt from before.

>What did you pick up with the extra cash you had? Something small is good. It will be shared by you and your sister. Something like an expanding pouch or a sneak-o-scope is fine. A premium broom is too much. Or do you want to just say you spent it on some outfits? Your mom and dad are more than rich enough that your robes have warming and cooling enchantments. A set of gloves with a protego on them? Some weird potion neither of you could normally make? A gift for Macy or David?

>Write in

We have one vote for having picked up some fancy under things.

I do apologize for not archiving before, did not get that it was so far off the board. Will post a little more after a bit as an apology.

Previous thread: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2024/6085624/

Rules: Add one alteration per evolution, save in .png, don't evolve a creature if you were the one to evolve it last, link/reply to the creature you are evolving from.

A massive extinction event has occurred, a series of meteor impacts devastates the surface and raises the global temperature sharply, leaving plenty of space to be inherited by new life.

You are a former knight. Your name? Well, that’s something you set out to make for yourself. You’ve been chasing rumors of an ancient artifact of unimaginable power, and now, at the end of your lead, you find yourself standing before a dark, dank cave.

Will you finally be able to crush all your enemies? Will the princess finally notice you? Will your dad finally start talking to you again, since you did that thing at his birthday that one time? or will this be your last quest?!

The light of the full moon shines upon you and your peers as you stand in the open courtyard of the academy. The sky is clear, with not a single cloud to obscure the gaze of the stars.

A name is called---but not yours---and a child steps forward onto a stone platform.

"Place both hands on the orb," says the archmagus.

The child complies. As his palms make contact with the glass-like surface of the orb, a faint white glow lights up from within its hitherto pitch black interior.

The light gradually grows brighter until its luminosity stabilises, whence it begins taking on a pale blue sheen, like that of hydrangeas. Throughout the entire process, the child remains motionless, as if in a trance.

"A very fine result." The archmagus strokes his long grey beard. "Welcome to the academy."

With a gleeful smile, the child skips back to the crowd and more people are called. Not all elicit a reaction from the orb, but among those that do, the light emitted varies wildly in brightness, colour, and intensity.

Finally, it is your turn. The orb up close is far larger than you expected, almost twice the diameter of your thirteen-year-old cranium. You glance at the archmagus. His figure towers over you; and from where you stand, his visage appears obscured by the wide trim of his pointed hat.

"Go on," he prods, gesturing with his staff for you to proceed.

As your hands get closer to the orb, a sense of unease begins building in the pit of your stomach. It reaches its zenith as you make contact, culminating in what you can only describe as a jolt of pure energy bursting from every inch of skin on your body that leaves you disoriented.

When you come to your senses, you find yourself in a space of infinite blackness, stretching on and on in all directions. However, you still feel your feet planted on firm ground.

Before you can react, a blinding light violently forks towards you, accompanied by a great roar. It fills you with a vision of...

>A fractured sky with obsidian clouds thrashed about by howling winds.

>A colossal wave marching through the void, bringing along with it effulgent sparks on its crest.

>Folds in the void opening up like eyelids, revealing a massive eye staring right back at you.

You are falling from the sky. The terrible howling of the void fills your head - you stare fixedly at the blue-white wanderer, Kar Moraeg, the planet below, and ignore the voices from between. Your distant home, the green pearl, falls away into the dark between worlds as you drop like a thunderbolt. Solar sails fan between your limbs, and you have a moment to turn before the sky-fire burns up the sails.

>Turn north, aim for the snows.
>Aim for the warm swamps of the inner belt
>Let the Moraeg guide you as it will

It is the year 2907 A.D., humanity, initially flourishing out in the cosmos, has begun to turn on itself, civil wars, secession, profiteers of the industrial war complex, the galaxy was growing more dim as colonies stopped being made, and danger was around every corner.

You are Erik Bridger, high schooler, senior and an all around ace student. Anti-social but proficient in your work, you were soon, and expectantly were 'offered' an position amongst the Mobile Response Force. Said organization being your systems version of the military, an cog in machine serving the Independent Communion of Stars, ICS. An fanatical organization that uses faith to inspire and control the masses to the leadership own ends.

Though he cared for none of this as he looked at the holo tablet he was reading, listing several positions available for Erik to join thanks to his exemplary grades, he was allowed to pick his poison...

[A] Infantry(Join the rank and file on the Frontline in service of the Communion!)

Mech Pilot (Learn the ropes of mech warfare and outmaneuver and overpower your enemies!)

[C] Other (Write-In)

(First time so advice and criticism appreciated)

"The honour of knighthood came first among the civilised people among the Latins of the Middle Kingdom. The art of sword and lance was birthed in the iron years when the kingship was abroad with the barbarians. The Frankomen of the great kingdom have forgotten them, since - though we remember." - The Chronicle of San-Koryu Abbey, The Writings of St. Go-Apsimar the Bladesman

You drink from a laquerwood cup and hold your chest tight to keep from coughing. The conversation around you has dulled - your fellow gentlemen knelt at the low table have emptied their cups and plates both, and look around muttering as if not one has any further tale to tell - at last a young northerner, fellow with the Emishi look about him, looks to you, and asks if you've any tale for the company - from whence do you come?

>You are of noble blood, for certain, but from where did your family come?
>The northern marches of Kyumar, the great-isle, an aristocrat settled among the knights there when the shoguns first marched north.
>The Isle of Pearls, in the distant south - you are of foreign stock, merchants of tea and lacquer with the burghers of Baek and Sildon
>The Curia itself! You are descended from a distant offshoot of the consecrated line of Christ's daughter, from whence the Saint-emperors spring. Certainly you are poorer now.