Welcome to /qtg/, a place to talk about quests.

Previous thread
>>6337227

>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.

Questionably Useful links:
>QTG discord: https://discord.gg/dZavHuK
>Skirmish discord: https://discord.com/invite/DZCVvVU
>Evo Game discord: https://discord.gg/xGZAX9tAvx
>Old pastebin containing advice for QMs:
https://pastebin.com/Z78p8gXf
Badly in need of renovation.

>Archiving guide:
Go to http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/requestqstinterface.html
Fill out the request form to archive a thread.
Threads are also automatically archived by other websites, such as archived.moe.

>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 [ /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:
Do you worry much about board preferences and tastes when coming up with or running a quest? Do you make active efforts to tailor your output to what is "popular," or do you just do your own thing?

>Player Question:
What do you look for an appreciate most in a quest: quality of prose/artwork, an appealing setting or world, an interesting plothook, or is it all about the waifus characters for you?

>General Question:
Do you think /qst/ has enough activity, and has had enough good candidates, for anotehr king/queen tourney this year? Who would you nominate?

>Lurker Question:
Why not at least +1 or comment on the updates so the QM knows someone is appreciating their work?</span>

<span class="mu-s">Smoldering ruins</span> surrounded every inch of this crater. Endless stretches of silver expanse had been laid to waste, never to see the suns again. In dwellings far away, strangers were made absolutely aware of a change in the world. Most ignored it-- some reviled it. None particularly cared enough for its implications to seek out the cause.

Closer to the source of such a shift, some exceptions occurred. Curious organisms sniffed around the fresh boundaries of the forest, familiarizing themselves with this new division between the strange and the ordinary. Many-trunked mice, miniature horses, webbed birds, and all manner of inquiring things found themselves dancing on the edges of this giant pit; none seemed to value their lives highly enough to consider what might happen if they fall within it, nor did many fancy themselves clumsy enough to find out.

Deeper still, at the very core of the newborn crater, lay a glowing anomaly. Something not of this planet, yet belonging to no other. An entire galaxy of thought and emotion whirled within its inner world, feeling clashing with thought; clashing with instinct; clashing with reality, mocking roaring waves against shattering cliff-faces.

Then, in an instant, the turmoil was cut short by a voice-- a voice that the anomaly neither understood nor knew of. It repeated, again, louder-- yet the anomaly was left just as clueless as before.

The creatures surrounding its crater soon began to scatter, making a variety of noises that likely had no inherent meaning beyond alarm. The source of their vanishing wondered if there was any distinction between their vocalizations and the voice's, but quickly put that thought to rest. Somehow, it simply understood that they were not one in the same.

Soon after, silence fell upon the flattened forest. The anomaly was left alone. It heard no sound, nor saw any thing, nor did it find its other senses particularly disturbed.

Estranged from its reality and the world it now found itself in, the anomaly's first thoughts were of...

>Opportunity. It found itself in awe of its surroundings, ready and eager to build itself a new future.

>Acceptance. Despite a lingering sense of loss, the anomaly saw no use in dwelling on it. Whatever came its way, it would greet with open arms.

Welcome back! Don't worry, you didn't miss a thread, I just completely failed to label the prior one correctly. That aside, last time: Mark worked his assignment at Wayne Manor and set off a domino chain that eventually led to the raid of Scarecrow's most recent Fear Toxin Laboratory, funded by Kal Quincy Late.
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Previous Threads: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Gotham%20City%20Beat%20Cop%20Quest
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"I was just checking in." You say, trying to stay casual. "He was one of the first calls I ever took and I promised to look out for him."

"You promised?" Caesar asks, he pauses for a moment before following up. "Did you promise my dad?"

"I did." You reply quietly, like your words could physically break the stillness in the air. "But uh... there is something worth celebrating still. We nabbed Scarecrow today."

"Woah." Caesar marvels.

"Did Batman help?" Isabelle chirps as she gnaws on a plain tortilla.

"Nope, GCPD did it ourselves... with SOME help."

"Who helped?" Caesar asks, he and his sister locked in on your story.

"The Quick Response Team, they're like SWAT basically. But uh... you know how it is. Can't really tell you anymore until the case moves along but, I feel good about it."

"Maybe we'll be out of here in time for me to go back to school." Caesar muses.

"Oh?" His mother laughs gently. "NOW you want to go to school?"

"Yeah..." Caesar grumbles, his eyes fixed on his plate as he shifts food around. "I gotta be like... responsible."

"Oh, mi dulce hijo." She coos.

"Mamá, para." He groans as his face goes a bit red.

"It's good you wanna go back to school, man." You say with a smile. "You interested in college at all?"

"If we could afford it." He shrugs. "Maybe."

"Hijo, that's an issue for me to worry about. Not you."

"There's options for that too." You bring up. "Scholarships, grants, and stuff."

Caesar shrugs again.

"Though I guess it depends on what you wanna do when you're older."

"I saw Caesar looking up stuff about the police." Isabelle happily blabs much to Caesar's chagrin.

"Izzy..." He groans. "It ain't like that, I dunno what I want to do. I just wanna help you out with Izzy." Caesar looks up to his mom who blinks away some misty eyes.

"You're so sweet, hijo. But we'll be okay, you have to focus on yourself too. Maybe you can do something with art? You're always drawing, right?"

"I could also work with Julian at the docks. He said they're always looking for people to help move crates."

"Julian. The same Julian who gave you bags of stolen oranges to sell?" His mother asks with a pointed voice.

"Mom I-"

"I don't like that boy." She says simply.

It was eerily quiet and dark in the hallways of the facility, the usual noise of people wandering about and announcements being made no longer filling the halls. Jabal awoke in this eerie silence, feeling cold all over his body. He slowly opened his eyes, groaning as he pushed himself up from the metal floor he found himself on. The last thing he recalled, he was running away from Titania's chamber after finding that Titania was not there. He had hoped to get to his and Catherine's office, but something must have happened which caused a massive blast which knocked him unconscious. After getting to his knees, he felt quite some pain throughout his body, finding rubble and shards of glass having scattered around him, as he saw that he had plenty of cuts and minor injuries. He looked around, before noticing Catherine on the floor a short distance behind him.

"Catherine..." Jabal gasped in horror, before rushing over to her. He felt quite some sharp pain throughout his legs and chest, yet he ignored them to get to his wife. He started to breathe heavily as he carefully flipped Catherine around, noticing she was quite bloodied and injured as well. "No no no no... No, don't... don't let this happen... No..." He mumbled in terror, ripping apart her labcoat and soon looking over her body for injuries. Most of the cuts and scrapes were minor, but he was extremely concerned by the fact she wasn't waking up for god knows what reason. He'd look in his pockets for anything he had on him which could help, before looking around for any kind of supply closet or small medical room. Though, it seemed there was not much of anything around him right now. Fortunately, as he panicked, he heard a soft groan from Catherine. He started to smile as Catherine opened her eyes and looked right at him. "J... Jabal?" She said quietly, Jabal nodding and letting out some tears. "Y-Yes, my love... Are you hurt?" He still was quite concerned, clearly fearing her being seriously injured.

Catherine smiled reassuringly. "A little bit... But, I'm fine..." Jabal would carefully lift Catherine up before tightly hugging her. "Thank god... thank god..." Jabal mumbled softly, Catherine hugging him back softly. "Are... are you okay? You look pretty roughed up as well. What... what even happened?" Catherine mumbled, the two continuing to hug. "I'm fine. I just... stumbled a little bit." Jabal quietly responded, Catherine letting out an almost silent scoff. "Heh... So, what actually happened? I remember... running to our office, and then there was a loud bang and..." Catherine went silent, clearly not remembering much else. Jabal finally let go of their hug, looking around a bit and slowly getting up. "Hngh, I'm not sure what happened either." Looking around, Jabal would feel a gentle breeze coming from the direction leading to Titania's chamber, making him take a step back. "I think... that things have gone terribly, terribly wrong."

A void carved deep into dense rock. Water flowing through cracks in the ceiling, dripping down, building spikes of stone over millennia. Blind troglodytes squirm in pools, reacting to an unseen force. Something appears in the space. It reaches out and….
Then comes blinding light, a cacophony of sound, an eclectic mixture of tastes and smells, burning heat, freezing cold and the feeling that your body is being torn apart.
You reflexively try to flail about, but nothing happens, the overwhelming pain and sensations continue unabated, you can’t even tell where any of them are coming from, it’s as if your entire body is one giant phantom limb.
As you try to scream out, a dark patch spread out from the centre of your vision, within are a pair of glowing spheres. They draw in your focus, drowning out the pain and other sensations, a strange feeling of familiarity falls on your mind.
A long silence and deep calm follow. You feel as if all will be well.
Something begins to gnaw at your consciousness, a wooden creak. Quiet, at first, it grinds at the back of your mind. The sound builds, drawing more of your focus, it becomes an onslaught of groaning and rending wood, until…

On the outskirts of a town which its settlers call Chiffchaff, but which its occupiers call Al-Duarah, there lay scattered bodies on the dry, red ground. Some are beasts and some are men, or at least look like Man. Broken, bent, frozen and burnt. Some are drained of life, left ashen husks; others have had their life bleed out of them onto the settlement’s streets. Looming over them are slate-grey walls, their gates self-sealing, and atop those walls watch impassive black masks, with eyes that see on behalf of their master: Abdul Saniʿ al-Duruʿ, Abdul Murawwiḍ al-Wuḥūsh, <span class="mu-s">Abdul Alhazred the Reptilian Infiltrator.</span>

The scaly, slit-pupilled swarthy Southron son-of-a-skink who killed <span class="mu-r">your</span> best feathered friend-for-life and <span class="mu-g">your</span> shapeshifting hundun friend-with-benefits.

<span class="mu-r">You</span> are <span class="mu-r">Zith-Zi</span>, Boss Bitch of the Monstrous Regiment adventuring company, and an ex-goblin ‘nilbog’ made pretty by magic…

…while <span class="mu-g">You</span> have gone by a few variations on the name <span class="mu-g">CZ</span> but have most recently settled on reclaiming your ill-gotten family legacy as <span class="mu-g">Carazzi Yosef</span>: one-time demigoblin cambion, and now a transcended <span class="mu-b">Pure and Empty Vessel</span> at long last.

<span class="mu-r">You</span> came to the Southlands, across the Shieldwall mountain which separates it from the north-western lands of the Paladin Queen of Hawksong. You did so not to participate in their silly civilizational clash—what various shades of humans get up to with gnolls and secret subterranean lizard-men is none of your business. <span class="mu-r">You</span> came here to save your estranged boyfriend, fellow adventurer James Efron, from captivity in a Chiffchaff dungeon...

…but in the process of procuring him, <span class="mu-g">you</span> punched through the army of enslaved hyena-men to their demon-wielding human-reptilian centre: Alhazred, the devious demonist and dark wizard who bested <span class="mu-g">you</span> in combat, costing you the lives of others whom you cared for.

(To say nothing of Nicolette Testa, fashion-forward illusionist-enchanter who joined your quest and lost a body via bullet-blasted brain, only to be pieced back together with an emergency effort of esoteric expertise!)

(Or Denise Lilla, the cleric you liberated, who suffered a similar fate in circumstances which precluded such a happy ending for her.)

(…It’s been a long few days, alright?)

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>

The radiant summer sun shone down upon the verdant sylvan landscape; these fair meadows and groves had an ethereal quality that was, of course, a vestige of the faewild of old. The sight of its remnant had been among the most enchanting things you had ever seen.

And yet, you couldn't help escape the burden that was so heavily laden upon your head; the crown may be kept safely in the vaults under the Albrechtsburg, but its weight never quite left your head. It was among the elder days of the 13th century, the year 1275 to be exact. And the kingdom of Greifswald was at peace. Still, as far as realms were concerned, yours was still young, for it had been but thirteen years since the formal proclamation of the kingdom, though in truth, it has existed as a polity since 1241, though only as a dukedom. 34 years of an Adlershorst upon the throne, though the lineage stretched back further; by the standards of the continent, the royal bloodline was virtually new money.

Now, in the waning years of the 13th century, the king and court are engaged upon a tour of the northern fiefs, solidifying alliances and ensuring the loyalty of vassals. Yet things are not as they should be; monks travel and do not greet their king, and nobles leave their estates and disappear, only for them to resurface in strange and secretive gatherings. It wasn't rebellion, or at least, it hadn't been able to coalesce into one, but your suspicions were brewing.

War you knew; compared to the soldierly simplicity of that life, dealing with the two-faced members of the aristocracy was something you had grown into, but you still perceived the practice with distaste.

It is not that you don't enjoy the pleasure of conversation with some wine and roasted pork, but you would prefer it without the threat of walking yourself into a verbal trap, where you would need to extricate yourself with utmost courtesy.

All in all, the tour has had mixed results; the count of Hoenstein had provided you with some useful information regarding one Oskar von Schmallhausen and a Hedwig von Merckhayn, though what they were up to is a bit of a puzzle. On the other hand, your visit with the burgrave of Dornheim was nothing short of an unmitigated disaster. You said a few things were maybe a tad bit high-handed, he retorted in kind, and you left as soon as you had come, before he would tear up his contract of vassalage to you or do something worse.

The matter left a bitter, though perhaps sour, taste in your mouth, and you didn't really feel like continuing this tour, or at least wanted to speed it up for your sake. If anything, the nobles should come to you; if all of them were in Ritterbach, there would be no more of this. But what was started should be seen through...

General links of varying importance.
Pastebin: https://pastebin.com/u/Adlershorst
DeviantArt: https://www.deviantart.com/adlershorst
Archive: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Settler%20Lord%20Quest

Past Thread: >>6317720
Archive: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Missval
General Pastebin: https://pastebin.com/5hFQZtc3
NEW 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… your name is… you cannot really remember.

You're currently swimming in darkness. Not literally, not a dark lake or anything like that. More like swimming in the void. You cannot see yourself. You cannot feel yourself. Are you even there? Do you even exist? And if you do, are you even alive?

A sharp pain was felt somewhere near where your head should be. You could not open your eyes, because you could not find them. Maybe you could not see, but you could touch. You could definitely feel things.

You tried to lift your right hand. It did not move. It did not feel like it was there. Your left one, however, felt… different. As if it was not yours, like an uninvited guest that refused to leave. Not only that, but it felt as if something was pressing against it. Something… wet. Sticky.

Another peck, close to your neck this time. It was not painful. Just… annoying. Very annoying. But it brought something positive with it. You were no longer swimming in darkness. Not entirely, at least. You began to hear things.

The sound of waves around you felt calming. Relaxing. Screeches of animals, and low, guttural roars of large beasts feasting. And far, far away, you felt a certain coldness. It felt both faint and vast at the same time. You could not see it. You could not picture it. It was a new sensation. Like a cold, invisible flame calling for you. Well… calling was a strong word. Beckoning? Luring you? No. It was a curiosity. Strong curiosity. Yes, that felt right.

Three pecks in total. One of them actually hurt. The sudden pain was enough to pull you out of this primordial soup of emptiness.

You were on a beach. A putrid, foul-smelling beach. You moved your right arm, batting at whatever was attacking you, and the distorted cries of birds faded as they flew away. Your left arm was stuck, deep in what felt like a pit of wet sand. You pulled, and, strangely enough, your entire arm came free in a single movement. You had expected more resistance.

You looked around. It was indeed a beach. The sun was slowly rising in the distance. Black and red beasts with white masks lurked nearby, sleeping or scavenging for food.

The first thing that caught your attention was your left arm. It looked disturbingly similar to them. Black, with white protrusions jutting from it. Slimy against the skin, solid along what appeared to be jagged bones. The fingers were the same. Sharp, clawed, and… fully under your control. This contamination extended from your fingertips up to the side of your neck and partially across your bare chest. Bare… where were your clothes? A lady should not be seen like this.

The world is flawed.
It is not imperfect though, just purposefully made that way.

Life is full of suffering and conflict, a race where the living fight to find meaning and solace, either by giving themselves and each other meaning, or by taking it from those weaker.

An unwinnable race, a race against time, a race against “The World”.
A losing battle from the moment one is born, the pure soul is slowly drained of its myriad colors, then cast away once it has been consumed.

There exists a gate beyond “The World”, and past that gate is the infinite.
A cold and unfeeling infinity, impartial and silent, an infinity where despite the existence of suffering, you witnessed the radiance of all souls of all ages.

So you, <span class="mu-i">[????]</span>, decided to bring “This World” into the infinite.
Not for anyone in particular, you… don’t exactly have many people you care about to begin with, not out of resentment for the life you had to live, after all that’s just how life in this world is.
Simply because you felt like things should be as they are beyond the Gate.

Another five? joined you out of their own volition, together you worked for millenia to bring the world beyond The Gate, and failed.

The Gatekeeper sent two away, who knows where. Another had to merge with the world and keep it from breaking apart under the immense strain from The Gate… And you’re not sure if the other two even existed.

As for yourself, The Gatekeeper pushed the world away using you. Your cultivation burned away as it set the skies ablaze, your body shattered as it tore through the ocean and the world’s crust, and your soul was fragmented into infinite specks of spiritual energy, leaving nothing behind.

But that doesn’t matter, you reached the gate and went beyond it. You learned things that even The Gatekeeper itself is unaware of. Your existence is perpetual, it will simply resume some indeterminate amount of time in the future. Fate is simply <span class="mu-s">ABSOLUTE</span>, and your destiny is <span class="mu-i">ours</span>

"Next time... I will..."

....
....
....

Axle Era, Year 3266

Your consciousness begins to awaken once more in a mortal’s body, who had been gazing at the stars after a long day’s work in their master’s estate.

You’ll run a check on your “Body” and “Soul”.
>roll a 2d20 for body and soul in that order.

The body is that of
>A male
>A female

You can ask yourself a question to refresh your knowledge about something (optional)
>write in

//If any of the old players from last year end up here, stuff happened and I lost everything noteswise, I will be re-using a few things from that first run, but you can consider this a complete reset for the most part, I can only apologize for not properly backing things up.