Archived threads in /qst/ - Quests - 164. page

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The spooky gooseman is bored, what could he do to escape boredom ?

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Previous threads:
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Cyberpunk%20Demonslayer

Last time, Krystal did lots of things with daemonettes. Mostly fightin' and fuckin'.

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>April Fools' Edition

The coastal town of Diamond Shoals, a popular tourist destination in the summer but otherwise relatively sleepy in the off-season. Occasionally though, there is some supernatural activity abound which is usually seen to by a few strange denizens of the town. For as unnatural as this activity might be though, it usually goes unnoticed by most everyone else. Usually.

You've seen your fair share though and are starting to think you picked the wrong town to move to.

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Horizon's Drop shown like a blue-green jewel bathed in the light of the red star. Space traffic made it's outline hazy from a distance but as the world rotated slender pillars reaching up from the planets surface were illuminated by the suns rays. Orbital platforms were dragged along by the rotational pull of the planet by the cables of the space elevators secured to the equators by anchors the size of small cities.

Four Fingers of the Wormstar claw at the planet, further securing it as your homeworld and capital of the New Necrotic Armada. Carriages slide up and down the cables of sinew and metal, full of metal and biomass cargo to transport to and from the orbital platforms that toil with industry far from the planets surface where their pollution couldn't taint the planet. No longer having to brave reentry and waste valuable fuel on Coffins and Carriers transporting resources and troops they merely have to dock at the city sized platforms. Bristling with anti-ship weaponry there was a smaller version of the anti-orbital Lances stationed in each platform that buzzed with ships.

Yet it was not only Horizon's Drop that reached out into the cold vacuum. Bastion, the home of the Lavafather and the Stonestar, danced around the supermassive gas giant while four more Wormstar Fingers thrust through the perpetual storms that shrouded the volcanic planetoid to reach out to the platforms orbiting it. Armadan and Obsidianborn ships flocked around the shared platforms, the elevators a great boon in traversing the still dangerous storms that threatened all but the largest of starships that passed through the atmosphere.

Even Rukor, the gleaming gem of the Bastion system sported a solitary Finger reaching up from the oceans depths into the void. The pillar of gleaming metal and bone was like a beacon to the ructu that could see it splitting the sky. Messages passed along their trade-routes let them know to use it as a landmark to guide them toward the latest addition to their world.

Rising up from the oceans was an island that had been reshaped and reconstructed into grand new city of the Armada. Great walls of gleaming pale bone rose up from the jungles and beaches, towers of dark metal and chitin rising up over the calm waters. Great piers stretched out like a web from the beaches, many already full to the brim with ructu ships that had traveled many leagues to gather there that day with many more circling the island or approaching with the strong winds. Under the crystal clear waters and the gentle waves the ructu could see glass domes and tunnels winding through the colorful reefs that surrounded the island. Drakes and Devils circled the island, flocks of gargoyles a persistent sight as they swooped down to inspect the new arrivals and perch on their ship masts, the crew members giving cheers at the sign of good luck.

Vyi'a'Rthun, the Isle of Salvation, has finally been completed. The people of Rukor gather, excitedly awaiting your arrival.

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"Black Hearts. Cold Steel. Dark Deeds."

These are the words of the Black Company, the infamous band of mercenaries that has been on one side or the other of every major conflict on the continent since its founding.
The Company has seldom cared who they fight for or the cause so long as they are paid, and paid well, when the killing work is done. Though they may be considered by some to be little more than glorified brigands, it cannot be said that the Black Company is not good at what they do.

Recently the Company has taken up a contract with a new employer, one more powerful than any that have come before. An employer with endless ambition, as well as the means and lack of moral scruples needed to pursue it. An employer that pays well...

----------------------------------------------

Twitter: https://twitter.com/BlackCompany666
/qst/ Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Black%20Company%20Quest
Previous Thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/1016204/
Kreigstrom Pastebin: https://pastebin.com/91JRN5zD
LT 'Prince' Pastebin: https://pastebin.com/xsXQsstH

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Previous thread:
>>1304846
(Started a new one because of organizational reasons)
Cards owned: https://pastebin.com/paeJYkxe
Twitter with updates: @QstingPlaymaker
Current Record: 3-2
....................................................................

You are Gerard Xavier , a newbie duelist that just arrived to Neo-Domino City a couple days ago. You entered a begginer-tier tournament, recieved a starter deck, and set out on your quest to advance to the next stage.

But now, you lost. 2 duels in a row to be exact. And as such, like every other sensible duelist, you fell into an existential crisis.

EPISODE 4

You hear thunder rumbling in the distance. The world before you is slowly darkening as more and more clouds cover the endless sky. Not that you care.

You've come back to the Duelist Shrine park, rightly guessing that at this time of day and with the worsening weather you'd be able to wallow in your card game angst all by yourself here.

You enter the park and look around. You find the biggest tree in the area, an age-old oak, and sit under it to hide from the coming rain. You take out your cards and look at them.

This is what you echieved so far. After winning 3 duels, you thought you were doing great. You thought that your inner talent was leading you on an easy route to the next stage. You thought that you'd soon be able to face the Kaibas and Judais of the world.

But now, you lost two matches in a row. Previous great duelists, like the legenday Yugi Muto were famous for never loosing, let alone consecutively. In the early turns, no less. What does that make you, then? Gone are delusions of grandeur born during your time in your local Duel Academy. You realize now that you were but a big fish in a small pond, not at all prepared to swim with the sharks.

After such a long time of victory-driven smugness, you realize one thing. You forgot why you started it all. You do not remember why instead of strivign to become a doctor or scientist you took up the duel disk and went to study children's card games.

Now however, you are not longer the Main Character chosen by the card spirits, destined to one day hold the title of Duel King. You're just another duelist in a city that's considered the World Capital for Duel Monsters ever since the legendary Duel City Tournemant. You will not survive without knowing what you really want to do.

WHY DO YOU DUEL, DUELIST?

>You want to prove yourelf
>You want to find your destiny
>You want fame and glory
>You want to show the world your skills
>You want to become stronger
>You want to make the living by doing what you like
>You want to meet/face your idol/idols
>You don't know what else you could do

>Write in (within reason)

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It's time for some VALKYRIAN MERCS QUEST!

Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Valkyrian%20Mercs%20Quest
Pastebin: http://pastebin.com/Jr8bbA3L

Don't know what Valkyria Chronicles is? Check it out here! http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Valkyria_Chronicles or http://valkyria.wikia.com/wiki/Valkyria_Wiki

You are JAGER STURMFUHRER, leader of the fledgling mercenary company DEMONS OF RANDGRIZ.

"Cap. Caaaaaaaaaap."

"Mrbglglglr." You snort as you're roused from your sleep by the stern but very familiar sound of your wife's voice. "Five more minutes."

"Five minutes and we're going to be at the station already!" Sam tuts, hands on her hips like a disappointed teacher. "I've already let you nap as long as possible!"

"Fine, fine." You groan as you slide out of your bed, now used to the clacking and bumping of the train as it rolled over freshly laid track. Honestly, it was the train part you were used to. You just weren't used to sleeping in an actual bed while riding a train.

Then again, when Karla's paying for the ticket, she'd never settle for anything less than first class.

"You know, did Karla ever tell you anything else other than she needed to see you right now?" Sam asks as you get yourself washed up and shaved. How the hell could they fit a whole private bathroom in a train car!?

"No, she just said we needed to come to Belka urgently, and discreetly." You shrug. "Besides, there's no reason for her to backstab us or anything, if that's what you're afraid of."

"No, I'm just nervous about what's going on that she feels the need to hire us out." Sam shakes her head and motions to the opulent luxury train suite you were both staying in. "And this hardly seems 'discreet' to me."

"Belka stills puts a lot of stock in royal bloodlines." You shrug as you get yourself dressed. "They see a high class train car like this and they don't ask questions."

"Uh huh, and they company we're bringing?" Sam raises an eyebrow at you.

"What, Ramirez, Tarin, and Alek are all perfectly capable. You should know that."

"I'm not talking about THEM." Sam narrows her eyes.

Oh. OH.

>Come on, Belkans love tanks!
>I'm sure Elsa can show some semblance of self control.
>Other

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The chill wind of an unnaturally cold night launches batters you through your rags and you desperately fight the instinct to jump, to move, to do anything to generate more heat. The armed guards driving the wagon would jump at the chance to beat you senseless to do the same. Best not to tempt them, especially with the release from your bonds so close. So you force yourself still, opting to tough it out in the back of their wooden cart, steeling yourself with the prospect of freedom. As soon as they let you go, you'll need to get by in this frozen hell with naught but an item of your choosing and a waterskin.

Your arm still screams in muted agony from the makeshift branding you'd received earlier denoting you a criminal. Turning your head awkwardly, you stare furiously at the runes imprinted on your burnt skin. That Official twat wielding the brand was drunk, and he'd decided to make you the butt of some nonsensical joke that his similarly alcohol-impaired lackeys went along with as they held you down.

What do they say?

>Mannfýla - Asshole. A skilled drinker and brawler, like your father and grandfather before you, you'd started bar-brawling as almost a tradition in the towns you visited. You may or may not have punched a few important figures in the head, you really can't remember much from that particular night. Thinking back on it, the Official who branded you WAS missing a few teeth...

>Óvinur - Enemy. Born with little, and destined to die with less, you spent much of your life fighting and killing to survive. As you got better at it, you became a duelist for a living, challenging rich individuals in Holmgang without count. While most hired or convinced skilled warriors to duel you, some had more balls than brains and you've split the heads of some influential people along the way. Turns out that said Official MAY have lost a few relatives to your antics...

>Gunga - Coward. Raised as the son of a militiaman, you took to the ways of war bright and early in your life. In your first battle, you saw three of your best friends brutally slain by an enemy berserker and lost your nerve, fleeing the battle with your tail between your legs. Unfortunately for you, your side won and you've been branded as a deserter and coward, disowned by everyone you've ever known. That Official does look awfully like the father of one of your slain comrades...

(1/2)

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The Imps enter the battlefield, disappointed that all their hard work trap making only killed a single man. Nevertheless they gather the corpses and their gear for transport, all the while fending off the hungry Basilisks. You reward them with the corpse of the Vampire's thrall, more to allow the Imps to do their work than anything. The Undead guard the battlefield dutifully, allowing a chance for the Vampiress and her Dullahan to rest and tend to their wounds. Even though the battle was a resounding success they were harried for days and have the injuries to prove it.Your Imps wrangle the surviving horses and hand them over to the Vampiress, reminding her that dawn will be in a few hours and that it would be wise to make their way to the temple quickly. As they leave you are given a chance to look over the battlefield. You've gathered enough corpses to replenish your losses and then some. Besides that their pockets were filled with gold coins, their payment from the Noble no doubt. On top of all that you finally gained your champion. It is a good day, but it is passing slowly. If you direct your undead towards the task the scavenging would go much more quickly…


Some time later your champion arrives at the Temple. Although you wish to talk to them now they are tired and deserve the rest. You lead them to the barracks with the intention of talking to them in the morning. Until then you rest, the constant scrying and domination has made you very tired. Although you can attempt to come up with a plan for convincing your champion.

(you may pick multiple)
>Be forthright, you lured her here because she has potential to be a great servant
>Be pragmatic, you're powerful and can protect her while she's here
>God that curse is so annoying, you can probably get rid of it (-20 mana)
>Ask her about her day
>[Write in]

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It is the year 25XX, hundreds of years ago a mysterious plague caused all food crops to mutate into monstrous predatory vegetables. 70% of the human population was wiped out by the vegetable monsters and the resulting famine. The survivors escaped into space and continue to live on moon bases and orbital habitats. Despite having access to weapons of mass destruction humanity cannot simply wipe out the vegetables. There was no time to secure untainted crop samples or livestock during the great evacuation; to feed itself humanity must kill the vegetables and consume their flesh.
The vegetables reproduce quickly on any land that can sustain plant life so no territory can truly be secured against them. Only the lifeless Great Interior Desert serves as a suitable staging platform for the endless war against the veggies. To counter their reproduction, humanity adopted a doctrine of drone warfare. From the desert vast command crawlers invade vegetable territory, their onboard fabricators churning out waves of disposable combat drones who gleefully blast apart the unrelenting tide of plant monsters, leaving the corpses for scavenger units to process into nutri-blocks and ship into orbit.

For some reason the drones are made to look like cute humanoids and imbued with an almost childlike devotion to their commanders. They will happily fight against impossible odds just to earn their commander’s praise.

>cont

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Rolled 76 (1d100)

Last time the monsters are afoot but there are rumors of some kind of joint military operation between the Colonial Militia and the Monster Hunters who came to hunt down their prey. While a independent trade fleet is soon to be inbound and later on your own personal ship will finally arrive. Though from the sounds of it the independent trade fleet will arrive first. Your ship should arrive however before the Religious Fleet of the Colony's faith comes over too.

You however decided to make a trip to some alien underwater for some looting and exploring. It was on the way out of the colony you realized you forgot a very important thing.

Snacks.

So you went back and somehow walked into the ONE store that was actually a monster front...and they knew you. Thus you ended up having to fight your way but not before grabbing some snacks. After that and admittedly quite ruffled up. You met back up with the militia squad that was coming with you to the ruins due to the favor you called in. Things went quite well.

You got to see that strange river of stars and darkness. Before going beneath the waves and into the ruins. There however you noticed some sea monsters were fighting and thought how amazing a selfie would look right now. With them in the background and you in those strange alien ruins...

As it turned out sea monsters REALLY hate selfies.

So you got chased through the ruins causing much destruction before you escaped onto land and finally was able to turn the battle around.

That is where you currently find yourself after looting the monsters and taking a much needed breather.

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Prior Thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/1171279/
Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Maverick%20Hunter%20Quest
The IRC: suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com, #MHQ
The Twitter: https://twitter.com/HunterCommand
The Recap (thanks to Scarab): http://pastebin.com/wMtuXJM2
Character sheet: https://docs.google.com/document/d/18-L31ukeOd_0XvfqErwY7GogqiwMU8zyIYfXxjTUb-c/

You are Captain Anode, and your commanding officer is pulling you away from party time.

That's never a good sign.

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Here's our discord where we handle direct communications/secrets.
https://discord.gg/fNwhBwd
Lore for the Quest can be found in these two pastebins:
http://pastebin.com/JeLgCpu6
Archive:
http://pastebin.com/sJUQB60g

Hop on the discord first

Year 773

>>Population:26,65m
>>Food production:8/10
>>Food stockpiles:8/10
>>Resources:7/10
>>Trade:8/10
>>Finances:5/10
>>Morale:7/10
>>Prestige:7/10


>>Buildings: House of Lords,Grand Temple, Gladiatorum, Academies, barracks, monuments, blast furnaces, domed temples,Great Lighthouses, sewers,schools,watermills,windmills,hospitals, baths;
>>Economy:three-crop rotation,standartised manoral agriculture,quasi-pastoralism, stable Mark, low debt
>>Culture:Code of Roggar,good festivals and folk culture, books,printing press, dragonslaying, good arts, calendar,noble manners, basic propaganda, Universities
>>Technology:heavy plough,horse collar,wind mill,sewers,stirrups,good metallurgy,medium medicine,medium natural science,good mechanics,medium crafts,good textiles,medium fishing,improving blackpowder
>>Government:Feudal Contract, good bureaucracy, City Guards,Legisature, trial of ordeal, elective monarchy, Council, Holy Pantheonic Empire
>>Magic: MAGA,medium golemancy,advancing alchemy, medium enchantments, medium spellweaving
>>Military:38 000 Proffesionals;Feudal troops and levies, faction troops;
>>Navy:41 carracks,15 cogs,1 caravel, 1 superboat, DRANK
>>Religion: old gods shamanism, Pantheon worship, Virism


>A.Food production & growth
>B.Culture & religion
>C.Construction
>D.Military
>E.Government & laws
>F.Exploration & colonization
>G.Research & development(Cooldown)
>H.Navy
>I.Diplomacy & war
>J.Magical matters
>K.Trade & Finance
>L.Other

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You are Captain Kusajishi Riku of the Shiba Clan, and today is proving to be a good day so far. In training several of the Soul Society's Lieutenant-class fighters you've learned that the Gotei 13 may be in better shape than you'd thought. Though many of your students have fairly basic problems with form and technique they seem willing to learn, even driven to do so. And out of all the students you've seen it's the drive to improve that most often catches your eye.

You had that characteristic yourself back in the day, more so than anyone you've met since: an absolutely undeniable force pushing you to ever-greater heights in all of the shinigami combat arts. In your old friends Kai and Kaoru you found similar drive, one of whom has since become a Captain and the other is your seniormost Commando... very nearly Captain material himself. The children you adopted out of the Rukongai have it as well, Gin having made Captain some fifty years ago and Rangiku remaining your Lieutenant despite being nearly Gin's equal in all respects. It's not for a lack of drive, of course. She's right where she wants to be.

Over the years a series of Commandos have gone through your Division and subsequently become Lieutenants in their own right, their ambition having led them out of Ninth and elsewhere. Tetsuzaemon is still serving well under Captain Komamura, and Shūhei is now Suí Fēng's Lieutenant in what you feel is actually a fairly good match. Sadly Ichinose is still missing, only to be presumed dead at this point.

You suppose his story should be considered more typical, in a sense. All stories end at some point, and if he truly is gone than he simply met his final chapter first out of all of you. A shame, really, but someone had to be the first.

Less depressing are your two newest additions: Mirai has grown strong since you singled her out in her academy days, and her old injury is less a hindrance now with the help of Urahara's inventions. Still the quietest member of your Division by far, but never what you'd consider depressing or gloomy. There's nothing wrong with keeping your thoughts to yourself so long as your actions still speak as loudly as hers do.

As for Kuchiki Rukia... she's still comparatively new at this, having only been a Commando for forty-three years. Unlike many of the others you've selected for such duty she was never considered exceptional, aside from her relation to Kuchiki Hisana and therefore the Clan head Byakuya. Had he his way Rukia would probably have had zero practical experience, her growth stunted by years spent deliberately sidelined for political reasons. But she has proven to be a bright student and a quick learner, and her skill at kidō has so far as you can tell been closer to Hinamori's than Renji's for years.
>1/2

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You are Gurie Niamc, and naturally as a 20 year woman you are in university... but with one problem.

You need a few credits from a social science and well that... is pretty much impossible! It has social in its name. Can you imagine yourself sitting in a desk, telling some psychology teacher about your problems, all so she can use you as a test subject on their freudian psychology experiment and you spend the rest of your day thinking you murdered someone?

You've read books about the whatever prison experiments. They all suck.

Fortunately for you Proffessor Nyarth, your school adviser, gave you a option. If you did volunteer hours in the school daycare, it'll count as social science credits! And sure kids are just tiny people but... that makes them like, half the person. So watching like nine kids only adds up to four and a half right?

You peek into the Santalune daycare the mass of kids swarming around you.

"Gurie! It's Gurie!" You hear Mimi yell, the other joining in the chorus. (Well besides Bedbug who just sortof nods.)

What do you do.

>Distract them with a picture book. Planchett really likes the three musketeers.
>Where is Mr. Taursteed he's supposed to be supervising them
>Mimi is the ringleader, placate her and the rest should disperse.