What have we done to deserve heaven? If it is our place, why are we here? We are unjust and terrible creatures, and our hell is to ever look at heaven and demand that we be allowed entry. Utopia is heaven- Socialism is heaven’s gates, yet Heaven is no place for humans, is it? We are allowed our glimpse of paradise, yes, but we shall never claim our dreams. We would suffocate as a fish does out of the cold seas. <span class="mu-i">-Charlot Doumer, “We Are of the Night”</span>
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It was afternoon on Monte Nocca- a lovely place for most who came here in the beginning of summer, but the one held in highest regard upon it was thinking of being elsewhere.
Vittoria Bonaventura had returned to the mountain once again- that lonely clutch where one half of her bloodline hailed from- and if mother and grandfather were to be believed, they had been there since before even memory of mankind, but to her that was just the Vitelian disease and Mosshead arrogance intermingling, in a way she refused to let fester in her head. The Judge had been merciful in making it blonde like father’s. Yet that did not deter grandfather from calling Vittoria by her new alias, and more comfortably than he spoke her name. Remiel. The same name was what she was summoned by now, further up the stony trail.
“Don’t drag your feet, Remiel,” her tutor in mystic lore and art said from ahead, his voice seeming more like the wind that blew over the mountain trees than particularly human, through that mask of his. He loomed as high as a peak too, in a way. “If this is to be your last lesson for a while, then you should pay close attention. Get a good score, heh heh. Prepare you for where you’re headed.”
“Whatever you’re having me do,” Vittoria said, “I don’t think any of it’ll have anything to do with the Azure Halls. The Dawn and the coming days in its light.”
“If that’s so,” Zeitgeist said as he walked slowly, his steps cloistered by his coat as though a curtain rose and fell on each foot forward. “You’re off, soon, to have your head filled with the dreams of others. To, heh heh, be <span class="mu-i">told</span> how to be wise, Remiel.”
“As though you’re against the concept of education,” Vittoria grumbled back, amusing herself with her teacher’s pace by weaving back and forth amongst the stones on each side of the mountain trail, “Utopia is the future, the inevitability. I might as well be an expert in it, especially if I want to help father. I can’t be of any use if I don’t know all there is to know. You said yourself that this tradition and mysticism is trapped in the past.”
Updates will be attempted daily! At worst, expect an update every 2 days instead of one. Absences will be announced in advance and given definitive end dates if I can manage it.
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<span class="mu-i">In the year 1884, within a world much like our own, the country has fallen under threat from all manner of otherworldly creatures!</span>
Demons have begun laying waste to our great United States! They wield powers matched only by nature's own, combatting her natural fauna with their own unnatural forces! Control over fire, lightning, even one's own perception of reality... such creatures are not to be trifled with, and best avoided!
Yet, despite this common-sense advice, there exist people eager to ignore it! Walter Roy Buchanan, an aspiring naturalist from New York state, is one such person. He believes not in these demons' immense danger to human life, but in their utility to humanity! He sees them as more than mere threats-- instead, he considers these "neofauna" to be the key to humanity's future.
Walter carries with him four such creatures: a wounded sheep with the power to rend Heaven's lightning unto earth, dubbed "Mary"; a gentle silkworm five times the size of his earthly ilk, dubbed "Taylor"; an anxious young elemental with the power to paralyze his foes, dubbed "Florian"; a fiery young stallion with a mane made of flame, dubbed "Aster". He is joined, too, by two human companions: a wealthy state-and-businessman known as Thomas J. Steele (with his own demon, dubbed Indiana), and Thomas' hired bodyguard: a man by the name of "Andrew," whose own interest in demons almost seems to match Walter's enthusiasm!
These three gentlemen belong to a group of rebels named the Staters, brought together by State Governor C. P. Huntington's atrocities and kept together by their intimidating leader: Aaron Muyr. They have recently suffered multiple consecutive losses: their headquarters were compromised, several of their members were killed in a raid on their base of operations, and the entire city's military presence has been strengthened in response to their activities... all within merely a few days! The Staters exist now as a motley band of young men and other disgruntled citizens, working to dethrone Huntington and save California state from his murderous hatred of neofauna, never meeting in the same place for longer than an evening so as to avoid further disaster. Walter has become an invaluable asset to the group, working to boost their morale and teach members about how best to befriend and utilize neofauna to their advantage while personally tutoring Muyr in the matter for payment.
One day, you suddenly find yourself groggily waking up in a WAYFISH world of WIZERDS that live under the eyes of the WUNDERWURM. Seems like a cozy room... Maybe a bit too cozy. You're not here by complete accident. You've done your research on the WIZERDS. You've done your homework for the WUNDERWURM. And you're definitely starting to feel WAYFISH... In some way or the other. However, all of that is behind you.
You're currently in ???. You think have to meet with a WIZERD. You believe the WUNDERWURM smiles upon you. You're feeling... WAYFISH.
You are Charlotte Fawkins, Herald and heroine. With the power of your positive spirit, you have overcome deceit, defeat, and divine possession, and now you are going to save the world. First, though, you need to defeat your nemesis Jean Ramsey in single combat.
Your fall through Ramsey's cloak is short, and your landing is soft (though you're displeased to discover the tail interferes with any cool forward roll). You are in blackness. You're not certain what you anticipated.
When you stand, you spy the Crown first, then the mask, then the snake, then, and only then, do you make out the rest of Ramsey: she's 20 feet away, her cloak camouflaging her near-perfectly. You suppose this is her head, or pocket dimension, or... wherever. Ramsey's axe, taller than her body, glossy black, is camouflaged too, only visible by its glint: the Crown is shedding faint white light.
You draw The Sword— its flames do nothing to illuminate the space, but it seems like the appropriate thing to do. Ramsey cocks her head. "Boy, you sure are a pain in the ass, aren't you?"
The snake, glossy beige, loops down around her shoulders. =Like father, like daughter. Isn't that right, Wingnut.=
God-damnit! How much have you been spied on? You clench The Sword, refusing to rise to the bait, but it wasn't set out for you— Richard shimmers into existence by your side. His hand is on your shoulder. "She is my <span class="mu-i">client.</span> Do not drag her—"
"Hey, who the fuck is that?" Ramsey says.
=Wow. What the hell is that. I'd be laughing if I wasn't in-chassis, so use your imagination. Or don't. Here: ha ha ha ha ha.= =This is what you have been reduced to. Human. And an inferior physical specimen at that. I don't know what I expected. Ha ha ha ha.= =This is how your -daughter- thinks of you. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.=
"I dunno, Snickers. They don't really look anything alike?" You get the impression that Ramsey is squinting. "Is that actually your <span class="mu-i">snake?</span> Shit! I didn't know they turned into people!"
=The competent ones don't. Isn't that right, Wingnut.=
"I am perfectly satisfied with my current state of affairs, <span class="mu-i">Snickers.</span> It has posed no obstacle to my success with my client."
=You mean it's posed no obstacle to -my- success with -my- client. Thanks for the Crown, by the way. Couldn't have ushered in the Dawn without—=
"Oh, yeah! The Crown! Wow! Talk on your own time, Snickers, thanks bunches." Ramsey pushes the snout of her snake upwards. "Charlotte Fawkins."
You've been trying to think of cool things to say. "Yes, evildoer?"
"Ohoho! Evildoer! Nice one. You stole Wayne's crystal, didn't you?"
You did, and thank God for it. It's under the armor, against your chest, hidden by your Magyckal Aura. "No."
Grand Zen-Oh, the omni king and ruler of the omniverse has declared there will be a massive tournament to be held in his honor. A grand affair between several universes, each battling it out for the very right to exist. And at the forefront of this grand spectacle will be the Saiyans of Universe 7, who Grand Zen-Oh has grown fond of watching battle. Twenty eight years ago, the Saiyan race were annexed into the PTO as just another race, one of many sent to conquer other worlds. Now, the Saiyans are widely regarded as the strongest warrior race in the entire Seventh Universe, defenders of the PTO led by their strongest, the “Dragon of New Salda” General Karn and his family.
You the players will (most often) control Karn. A man who has grown from his lowly beginnings as a 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 well over a dozen powerful and unique children, a mentor and teacher to his fellow Saiyans, and the best hope for his universe's continued survival. No one warrior can hope to battle eight other universes' strongest fighters alone and hope to prevail, one man's power and skill won't be enough to overcome the looming threat of extermination. But this coming battle will be the ultimate test of how you've lived your life until now, the choices you made not only for yourself, but for the fate of your entire universe.
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.
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.
The competition for Princess Yulia’s hand has finally begun! Its first stage saw you and your rivals forced to fight through a horde of violent prisoners in order to reach the fabled Tower of Illusion. Teaming up with two of your foreign counterparts, you cleared the goal and were able to advance to the second stage, where a written exam on kingly matters awaited you. You were forced to put your axe aside and rely on your intellect and knowledge to tackle this trial.
With the second stage completed, you now await your grading, and the impending third stage, which promises to be your most rigorous challenge yet.
>Skill: Resolve (When HP falls to less than 35%, Strength, Speed and Defense increase by 7) >Dragon-kin Wyvern (SPD based chance for Fionn to launch an ice attack, dealing ½ MAG Damage.)
>Weapons: Silver Axe (+16 ATK), Bolt Axe (+14 ATK, Ranged, Targets RES) Hammer (+8 ATK, 3x DMG vs Armor Knights), Devil Axe (+21 ATK, -20 HP when Used) Iron Bow (+6 ATK),
>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 damage 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) Combat Art: Throw: (Toss your weapon at an enemy and return it to your hand. Ranged attack.) (1 Crest of Indech Charge) Combat Art: Hit and Run: (Perform an attack that allows you to dodge the next harmful attack. Increases SPD by +7 for 1 turn. Costs 2 Crest of Indech Charges)
Welcome to /qtg/, a place to talk about quests. Previous thread >>6243967
>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: text Italics: text Red: [ red ] text [ /red ] Blue: [ blue ] text [ /blue ] Green: [ green] text [ /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 are common traps for Qms? >Player question What vote or decision surprised you? >Lurker question What's your spirit animal? >Miscellaneous question Any run ins with the paranormal?
WELCOME BACK, I plan poorly and don't ever note where the quest is on the board. I'll be using the last post of the prior thread as the first post of this thread so people can continue voting if they haven't already. I already have the votes from the prior thread saved and tallied but if you want to re-vote, please feel free as long as you let me know you voted once already.
====
"That smell..." You begin. "You didn't bring... please tell me my apartment is demon free."
"Don't be a drama queen, course it is." He laughs as he sits up. "Honestly, a loyal friend brings you an apology gift and you can't even untwist your knickers long enough to say thank you."
"Thank you for what? The smell?" You grumble to yourself as you head for the window. "Question would at least keep it scent-free... God, I actually miss the normal break-ins."
"Come off it." John throws out.
"What'd you expect me to say? 'Oh. Hey. I was hoping to hear how the rest of your night went at Arkham.' something like that?"
"I'm chuffed you asked!" He barks, tossing the gift box to you. "It was actually a real pain in the bollocks, thanks for asking."
"A pain? You had Batman and you're supposed to be this big shot magician right?"
"Unfortunately for me, being hijacked and used as a Tulpa's johnny takes it out of a guy. I had to lug him out of there before it had a chance to affix itself to him again."
"And you didn't use a spell to just... float him or something?" You reply, picking at the tight knot of the ribbon. "You really don't have something like that?"
"First off, don't talk about my magic until you've looked in that box. Secondly, shutting down not one but TWO Tulpa's leaves a bloke a bit drained. So forgive me for not living up to your Magi stereotypes."
"Whatever." You reply. "After you forced me into a corner and got me to agree to a coma, I don't really think much of 'mages' anyway."
You pull the last loop and the knot falls apart, the ribbon hanging loosely around the box, you hear a metallic scrape and glance up to see John holding his zippo, loose cigarette dangling from his mouth. You narrow your eyes and he sneers.
"You opened the window, mate. I assumed..." He trails off as he watches you frown. "Well if you opened gifts faster than my granny maybe I wouldn't need a smoke. Not to mention all the hostility you have for a bloke who saved your life."
Your name is <span class="mu-s">Vincent Cruz.</span> You work at a small accounting firm somewhere in the middle of nowhere, Texas. By accounts, you are a complete and total nobody.
You've spent the last five years of your life doing the same monotonous routine day in and day out.
Wake up. Catch a bus. Suffer the indignity of underfunded public transportation for an hour. Arrive at work. Get a cup of coffee. Go to your cubical. Work on financial and tax paperwork for eight hours. Go home. Watch TV. Get a restless six hours of sleep.
30 GOTO 10.
That's the way it's been up to this point. The job pays well enough and the other options weren't much better.
Today begins as much as any other day. You step off the rolling hunk of steel which you could call a bus and into the looming shadow of your workplace, a grey steel and glass monolith that holds nothing but human misery inside. Just how you like it. Ha.
Your body and mind prepare to go on autopilot to get through your routine. Your legs carry you forward automatically and your face is set into the daily mask of impassivity.
You're stopped by the receptionist before you can even step foot into your office.
"Mr. Cruz." The chipper receptionist offers her usual plastic smile. "Mr. Cantwell would like to speak to you." Oh. <span class="mu-i">Great.</span> Your manager wants to talk to you? You can already imagine the dragged out conversation he's going to put you through.
You slump your shoulders. "Okay. Thank you." Your body swerves down the hallway opposite of where your office is. It doesn't take long to find yourself in front of his office door. Lucky bastard actually gets an office all to himself. You knock on the door. No answer. You check the doorknob and it's...<span class="mu-b">unlocked?</span> Huh. You open the door to reveal a room completely shrouded in darkness. You can't see a damn thing in here.
You have half the mind to leave right now... but you might as well see this little jape all the way through. Why not? You step inside and the last thing you remember is <span class="mu-r">two metal prongs being jabbed into your back</span> and the <span class="mu-r">accompanying surge of electricity flooding through your entire body.</span>
You wake up after God knows how long. You can't see anything and, as you try to get up, you realize your arms and legs are tied to something. There's a few whispers and footsteps then the bag gets removed from your head. It's still too dark to make out much of your surroundings, but you can make out what's immediately in front of you.
There's a man sitting on the other side of the stainless steel table that you're forcefully sat at. He's an older gentleman wearing a simple white labcoat with a turtleneck sweater underneath, late 50s if you had to guess. He adjusts the desk lamp (the only source of light in this room) to get a better look at you.
"I apologize for the, erm, troublesome circumstances that surround our little introduction." He lets out a forced chuckle. "<span class="mu-b">To keep it brief, you've been promoted!</span>"
