Archived threads in /qst/ - Quests - 298. page

>>928323
>A young wizard studies under the Sultan's most trusted advisor and magician, the Vizier.

>>928323
>>A young wizard studies under the Sultan's most trusted advisor and magician, the Vizier.

>A young wizard studies under the Sultan's most trusted advisor and magician, the Vizier.

>>928233
Dark Red
North Maine
>Diplomacy:4
>Martial:3
>Trade:1
>Intelligence:4
>Subterfuge:4
>Organization:5
Due to being a small Island, Britain rapidly pulled itself together under a collection of university based city states, sponsoring societies attempting to accomplish something. The Royal tag is given to something that all city states agree and fund. Harold Harthington seeks to bring a measure of order back to the USA after the apocalypse.
>Harold Harthington
Strength:4
Dexterity:4
Intelligence:5
Charisma:7

>>928284
Nice, once more people show up, i'll create the map and then start allowing choices to be made.

Cyan
Orlando Florida
>Diplomacy:4
>Martial:1
>Trade:1
>Intelligence:4
>Subterfuge:1
>Organization:10

After the apocalypse, the cyrogenic freezing systems in Walt Disney's underground mansion stopped working, waking him up for this new world. With infinite wisdom, Disney strives to unite the USA

>Walt Disney's Unfrozen Head
Strength:1
Dexterity:1
Intelligence:8
Charisma:7

>>928113
>touch it

>>911985
>Touch it

>>928113
>>[ ] Touch it.

>>926296
>Keep at the controls

>>926343
You decide to stay at the controls and land your ship onto the planet, still picking up the signal.

You look up on your screen any information about UCOS and their management history. It is said that UCOS was forced into the Orion system by their ex-parent company Star fliers for illegal use of basically slave labour, long hours, no pay and security that was paid to rough up the workers as much as possible. Being forced into the Orion system made it so they can perform these activities to their desire, without involvement from the UGF.

You ask the computer why you are even in the outer ring system in the first place. It gives you a non-answer, dodging it by saying "I picked up the signal".

As you land on the planet, you notice all of the surface structures are rusted and worn down.

There are 2 entrances, the main office and mining baracks.

>Barracks
>Office

>>926518
>Office

>>925969
No, it’s only a dragon in form right now. She is your friend, Hanako Minami. Twisted by the whim of infectious Chaos feeding off the worst in her and a future that isn’t her own. Though...the shadow of that fate now hangs upon her.

As she is now, it’s likely she’ll target the person she’s obsessed with. The person whose love she wants more than anything, because of barely understood memories from a life that is not her own that she remembers in flashes because of who she could have been in a completely different life.

An experience you are perhaps intimately familiar with.

The two of you come to a halt with the building before and beneath you. An apartment complex in Tokyo Midtown, probably quite expensive. Traffic is fare lighter here, and you can see a crowd expanding out of the base of the building, and hear the distant sound of fire engines on approach.

As klaxon and danger roam closer, you weigh what to do next.

>Head into Byakuya Hoseki’s apartment
>Wait for the others to arrive
>See if you can spot Hisako Ito in the crowd
>Get on the roof of that building
>Head down into the crowd
>Write in

(30 minute voting window from first vote, subsequent votes will only have a 15 minute voting window. Sorry it took so long to get us up and running today)

>>925975
I don't suppose there's a wide open park that isn't occupied nearby? As epic as a rooftop battle on the high-rises of Tokyo would be, I recall we had some trouble with falling last time.

If there is, maybe we could ask Hisako to bring Byakuya there, or arrange a different decoy to lure the dragon.. Disguise Pen?

Not quite a vote yet, just fact finding.

>>924831
>Executioner

>>924831
>Assassin

>>924831
>Assassin

>>923558

>shit not shot

Ahhh posting after a long day and staying up late at night.

Isn't it wonderful anons?

>>923563

>trigger not tigger

This is....this is going to be a good thread...

>>923558
You should link the previous thread if it is still available >>901272
Also you forgot to mention in OP that we SIGNED UP WITH COIL

> continue on to the meetup but make a couple of brief detours in the way to look for tails.
And tell them about what happened. Metagamung wide tattletale is working with coil already so she might cover for us if it is an issue

>>921994
Meditate on the bleak emptiness of all existence until you achieve enlightenment.

>>921994
Scratch your ass, you got an itch.

>>921994
Wallow in misery

>>921766
Here we go!
Hiya Announcer, how ya doing today?

>>921808
Pretty good! I wish this thread was up an hour ago, though.

>>921766
>Try and gently test magic that won't bring too much attention.

File: Triton.jpg (1MB, 3000x1715px) Image search: [Google]

1MB, 3000x1715px

The rest of the trip to Triton was relatively uneventful. You decided to take up the preacher, Claude, on his offer to listen to your war stories. Though you aren’t sure if it helped, it was kind of nice to talk about it with someone who isn’t an immediate friend. Other than that, not much happened though. You learned from Cynthia that the gold you took from the wreck of the Wales doesn’t have any tracking devices, which certainly makes things easier.

Triton is pretty much exactly as Claude described it: no atmosphere to speak of, with all human settlements being in massive, metal pods on stilts. You peer out through the bridge windows as the Bad Habit pulls up to the oldest and largest of the pods, Station McArthur. A remnant of the pre-Federation colonization of the solar system, it still has the massive red white and blue flag of the US painted on the side.

The Bad Habit pulls into a docking slot that opens on the skin of Station McArthur, and you feel the barely-noticeable shudder of the landing gear deploying. During the trip over, Cynthia tweaked the speed settings on them so that they would open more smoothly.

The ship touches down in a space that looks more like a massive hangar than a dockyard. You see that most of the vessels parked in here are either the Bad Habit’s size or smaller. It makes sense, Triton is kind of out of the way compared to the moons of the more important outer planets.

“Cargo door’s opening, sir.” Tom swivels around to face you. “I’ll head down and see about meeting with the port authority.”

“Sounds good,” you nod. You get up from your chair and head downstairs with him, stopping in the Wardroom to get some coffee. Tom heads down without you as you turn the television on and switch it over to the news.

There is more coverage of the explosion at the Imperial Navy yard that occurred a couple of days ago. Still nothing substantial, but the Imperial military appears to be trying to shut down any speculation until they complete their own investigation.

You turn the TV off and head downstairs, helping Tom unload the cargo, which the dockworkers quickly take off your hands. The refined palladium and ammunition took up quite a bit of space in your hold. Tom stretches as the last of the forklifts leave. “Well Captain, I’m going to head back upstairs and get everything else squared away. I’ll collect the fare from our passenger too.”

You wave him off and lean up against one of the hydraulic supports, rubbing your eyes. That nightmare from a couple of days ago rattled you more than it should have. You figure that it has something to do with the Wales, but you don’t normally lose your nerve so easily.

“Good afternoon,” an Imperial accent catches your attention. “I presume you are the captain of this vessel?” You look over to see a man in an Imperial Navy uniform, probably a junior officer, if you had to take a guess.

>”Yeah.”
>”Depends on who’s asking.”
>”Buzz off.”
>”Something wrong?”
>Write-in.

>>920943
> yeah
Shit, Corrigan has already reported in, that was fast.

Not that you didn’t have time for a quick bit of fun. Maddalyn had seemed somewhat dissatisfied with your decision to shut the demiphantom inside the secret facility, instead of leaving her in to most likely either be eaten by the demon or killing her with the blast from the hellfire’s core exploding, destroying the evil spirit once and for all.

“What, not even a peck on the cheek?” you say with mock derision to her, “I sort of saved your life, after all.”

Maddalyn flushed nearly as bright red as her hair, and looked away, flustered. “W-w-wait, n-not here…”

“I promise not to watch too much,” Hans, one of your crew, sneered from below. Stein simply closed his eyes and sighed. Maddalyn was fidgeting disconcertedly as Hans whistled at her. “Hey, princess, you’re in my spot. Unless you want to start lugging shells around.”

Maddalyn looked back at you one more time before obliging and climbing back down into the radio operator’s position. Your red haired (and faced) fiancée was replaced with your crass radio operator turned loader, making up for his inability to relieve his stress on the radio with even more banter than usual.

“Your flunky wanted to plan what we were going to do, by the way,” Hans informed you, referring to Von Metzeler in a way that would never pass were he in the same space as you two. “Said that we should move back into the city to get a few things, but if you have different plans, I can, well, the ginger midget can tell him.”

“Richter!” Maddalyn whined, “Your crewman is calling me rude names!”

You struggle to not roll your eyes. Maddalyn couldn’t notice if you did it, but Hans did not share her condition, and he would surely inform the girl of your gesture.

>Go back into the city to plan a larger operation against the Dawnseekers
>Hunt down the last group you encountered; best to not leave them to lie
>The Imperial Gate’s garrison is near here, in their mountainous camps; go and check on them, and perhaps ask them what they’ve seen; you will have to abandon your armor temporarily to climb to them, however.
>Other

>Previous threads link pastebin: http://pastebin.com/UagT0hnh
>twitter is @scheissfunker for updates and scheduling

>>920797
Go back into the city to plan a larger operation against the Dawnseekers

“No, that’s fine,” you say, “There isn’t much we can do with what we have right now anyways. We’ll convene in a safer place where we can get everything established before we do it.”

Your trek back is not interfered with, despite your expectations. Either the militia you encountered were hiding from the devil you spun a tale about just before sealing it away, or they were hiding from you. You would prefer the latter; you did quite well for a first battle, you think. You kept a keen eye out nevertheless.

You passed back through the tiny town of Schoffes once again, seeing no sign of the dignitary you had dropped off there. A good thing, as a few men who couldn’t help but look suspicious had appeared since your last visit. They nervously regarded your armored vehicles.

“You’d think they’d just go over the mountains if they wanted to cause some trouble,” Stein said disdainfully, looking out a turret door view port. “Plenty of imperials over in Czeiss.”
“They’ve got forts over in the Reich too, Stein,” Hans said, “Suicide might not be their cup of tea.”

In actuality, the Grossreich’s side of its border with Strossvald was only lightly fortified. The Imperial Gate’s constructions were winding tunnels carved in the mountains, with uncountable firing ports and artillery batteries recessed behind the reliefs of the rock. Companies of Ducal Engineers were poised to obliterate the roads and bridges in the passes with pre-positioned explosives, forcing any invaders to travel off the paths and through lands dotted with all manner of mines. Deep in the fortresses also lay stores of chemical shells and tankards to be used in chemical projectors in the valleys; technically banned by most nations, but kept there as a deterrent regardless. Bertholite and Phosgene inhabited those armories, but also a foul compound called Composition F2, more colloquially known as Flayer Gas.

Feared by all who had seen its work, Composition F2 caused the skin to blacken and peel upon contact with its vapors; victims’ skin would slough off with a touch. It was actually quite poor at killing if its targets were wearing masks, but it caused suffering so hideous that only months after it saw use in combat it had been banned by all nations.

In contrast with the invincible natural and manmade walls protecting Strossvald from its Imperial neighbor, the Reich’s defenses against her eastern neighbor consisted of but some concrete bunkers and earthworks, with defenses that were only ever lightly manned. You had heard frustrated accounts from garrison officers fresh from their time on the Imperial Gate that their foes did not fear them, or even act like they existed.

“You didn’t have to go that deep into it,” Hans grumbled at your lecture, “You could have just said they don’t have shit on the other side.”

>>920523
>Ignore the woman, check out the cells.
NOPE

>>920523
>Approach the woman slowly, keep your rifle at the ready.

>>920523
>Approach the woman slowly, keep your rifle at the ready.

>>920499
>>C) Don't worry about me I'm fine
Big brother feels nothing but his little sister's pain.

>>920499
C)

>>920499
>C

Your name is Bob. You're a fledgling wizard, possessing godlike power which you've yet to fully master. You're sitting on the broken doorway to your tower, a hollow tube of stone filled with little but broken crates and rubble. In front of you is a smooth clearing, flattened with earth magic. There is nothing on it, but 20 feet below is the man you just murdered.

In your defense, you only did it to preserve your life. Said man tried to kill you with no explanation and wrecked half your tower in the process. Technically, you wrecked the tower while attacking... no, defending yourself. You had no choice. He was uncooperative, and you couldn't read his thoughts, and what little you did make out was hateful. Vile, even. Sure, he was helpless after he knocked himself out, but-

You had no choice! You are a wizard, feared and reviled by so many, and you have to do what's necessary to protect yourself. What if he was part of a group? What if you're being hunted? It's not implausible.

Gods, you hope your parents are alright.

You wonder what they would think of you. Would they have you arrested? Would they try to support you? You look down at your hands as they tremble for some reason. Why would you even be shaken? This person tried to murder you even though you never wronged anyone in your life. You didn't know him, except that he was hateful and prejudiced; a zealot even. And yet, you feel emotionally exhausted.

It doesn't help that you can still feel his body down there, just at the periphery of your earthsense. A man-shaped outline, surrounded by unnaturally even stone. This is the state it usually settles in after you have it act like mud. Like when you sank him down there a few minutes ago, to suffocate him while he was still unconscious. Although, it does feel like you've been sitting here a lot longer than that.

You had no choice.

You don't have time to be sulking around like this. The world around you is full of danger, and you must build up your defenses if you are to survive much longer. With that resolve, you quickly stand up to get some work done. As you do so, the pain on your shoulder flares up something fierce and blurry spots swims around in your vision.

Right, first things first. You have to make sure you aren't dead from infection or magical sickness before anything else. You take off the very poorly-made bandage you've tied around yourself, clenching your teeth as the cloth is peeled away from the exposed flesh. You throw away the blood-soaked and shredded remains of your tunic; it isn't of use to anybody now. You take off your pants as well, leaving you in your undergarments. They too are torn and tattered, though surprisingly cleaner than your shirt. With a knife you retrieve from your backpack, you cut off a long strip, unmaking a leg with a perpendicular cut that swirls from foot to groin, and tear away the filthiest bits. After you repeat the process with the other leg, you think you have enough to cover the entire wound.

File: 1476902741095.jpg (335KB, 905x1626px) Image search: [Google]

335KB, 905x1626px

Before you do that, you open the larger canteen of water you have with you, which miraculously survived unscathed from all your battles so far. A channel of ether flows forth as you adjust your stance, and a stream of water flows out of the container and envelops your wound. It's actually harder to hold water in place like this than have it flow; metaphysically speaking, water seems to demand movement. You oblige by stirring up an internal current which sweeps over your open wound to clean it as best as you can manage. You hold it there, as it soothes the pain, but slowly, the water becomes too bloodied for you to properly control, so instead of wasting your energy, you allow the bubble to splash on the ground.

Next, you awkwardly tie and wrap the strips of cloth around your right shoulder, hopefully covering the wound entirely. It's hard to treat oneself this way, even with a magical grip to reach those unreachable spots- you can't see your own back. Finally, you don the robe you removed from your would-be killer before you... Well, you ended up leaving him as naked as you were before. He won't need them anymore.

The torn brown robe is surprisingly comfortable and warm, a welcome change after being naked. You don't put on the amulet you've found on him, not before you've determined what it does. There is a faint magical aura coming from the square-cut stone, though there don't seem to be any obvious runes on it. Strange.

The sash seems to be similarly magical in nature. This one is quite easy to identify, the runes crudely drawn on the inside fairly familiar to you. It appears to stop ether from being drawn out of the wearer's body without his consent. For someone with meager reserves, this would also serve as a stopper of sorts, overloading one's body even after it reaches full magical capacity. Is that what happened to this man?

Something tells you that this won't be a problem for you, not with how much you generate. The runes will simply fail to stem the intense flow of magic emanating from your person when you're at full capacity. So you put it on, and though you feel it become active, there is no immediate effect. You still have space to spare in your body, so you suspect you won't see your theory confirmed until you're at full magical capacity. You probably won't see it do anything unless something tried to interfere with your reserves from the outside, somehow.

And finally, there is a letter on his person. The ink itself is clearly not mundane, and the contents aren't either- there seems to be a tiny spell circle drawn on it. The pattern and symbols are not runic, so you can't readily identify what it would do if you activated it, but it would definitely do something low-powered. You put this away as well.

Four of your golems are clearing the rubble behind you, retrieving the supply crates you'd stored in your tower. You inspect these next, and though the crates themselves have been damaged or smashed to varying degrees, their contents are thankfully intact. You confirm that Skittles has also avoided harm, your cellar completely untouched by the conflict. He's quite antsy, though.

Around you, your tower is in shambles. Outside, the smelter you'd been working on is completely destroyed. You're almost out of both food and water, and your injury is still mostly untreated. Also, you're sick as hell. On top of all that stuff, you still have a nature spirit to question and a deal with a giant spider to fulfill or renegotiate.

Best get started.

>You may be sick, but you still need to go and gather food and water.
>Travel to the town to find a healer or Fatrat.
>Rest for the remainder of the day. You feel like shit.
>This is no way for a wizard to be living in. Repair your tower.
>You're gonna rebuild that fucking smelter right fucking now.
>Do something else. (Write-in)

>>919515
Welcome to Shadowrun Occultist Quest!

>What is Shadowrun?

Shadowrun is an RPG series set in the world of 2072, 60 years after "The Awakening", the return of magic, spirits, and fantasy races into the world. Metahumanity now lives in a world of advanced technology and magic, where megacorporations are above the laws of nations and one-third of all humanity have no legal rights. Crime and corruption run amok, and mercenary operatives known as "shadowrunners" ply their services to both the criminal underworld, and to the very corporations that officially fight against them.

>How are success and failure determined?

A number of d6's are rolled equal to the relevant attribute+the relevant skill. 5's and 6's are successes, and the dice are rolled against a target threshold (1 for something trivial; 6 for a highly difficult /intricate task. 10 for something next-to-impossible). Each 6 rolled results in one additional die being rolled in the pool. Results are as follows:

Target number of successes is met: the action is a success.

Target number of successes is not met: the action is a failure.

Target number of successes is met, but more 1's are rolled than any other number in the pool: a "glitch" occurs: a minor outside complication arises that prevents success.

Target number of successes is not met and more 1's are rolled than any other number: critical glitch. Your actions fail in a way that is potentially disastrous for your long-term goals or your health.

You will have 2 points of Edge each "session" that you can spend to tip the scales in your favor. When requesting an action, you may specify that you want to spend a point of Edge to add "luck" or "effort" to a roll. "Luck" will add five dice to the roll's pool (great for situations where Redd is forced to work out of his depth). "Effort" will re-roll all failed dice on a roll if it does not meet the threshold, glitches, or critically glitches (the point will be refunded if none of these happen). This is good when you are playing to Redd's strengths, but want to make sure you don't botch something.

Good luck, and remember the fundamentals of shadowrunning:

>Shoot straight!

>Conserve ammo!

>Never make a deal with a dragon!

>>919515
>Buy gear
I'm thinking hair nets and plastic gloves from a cleaning/food services outlet.
Maybe some bleach and spray bottles from Stuffer Shack?

We need something to get us through the key card reader, and we'll need to somehow crack the magical ward.

>>919520
Dramitas Personae:

>Rhun "Hela'R Dryw" map Gaelwynn
A short, toned, and angry Welshwoman who serves as your crew's close-combat expert and recon gal. Has enough chrome and bioware in her body that she could probably tank a fall from the 10th floor of a skyraker into an acid vat. Against all odds, holds a Master's degree in Welsh History. Likes: Parkour, sex, narcotics, alcohol, swordfighting, Welsh autonomy from the UK, Lofwyr (The CEO of Saeder-Krupp), Saeder-Krupp. Dislikes: The English, the Irish, the Scottish, Tir Elves, "wankers", people who don't like Lofwyr or Saeder-Krupp. Struggling Bliss addict.

>Rex Stirling
A Chicago native and former cleaner for Saeder-Krupp, now demoted to shadowrunning due to a series of unwise decisions that started with a decision to do a hit-and-run on the leader of a major street gang. A veteran of the Sinai Shadow Operations of 2065. Consummate professional (apart from the hit-and-run) and a hard, hard man. Likes: clean runs, gray suits, the Chicago Shatterers Urban Brawl team, and "Pacey Rae", his Gauss rifle. Dislikes: Messy runs, being double-crossed, "wizard bullshit", you. Has some unresolved trauma from the Sinai.
>Sudo Morphus/"N0b0dy"
The crew's decker. Used to just be an IT nerd, until S-K got leverage on him for redirecting spam-mail from one of their subsidiaries back to said subsidiary's servers. You have the closest relationship to him our of anyone on the team. Suffers from Sudden Unexplained Resurgent Genetic Expression (SURGE), which gives him oily, bright-green scales instead of skin, along with a tail. Likes: MMO gaming, decking, "me time", you (in a platonic way). Dislikes: violence, being overworked, Rhun, himself. Mildly depressed.

>Tizona Cortez

An ex-pirate technically-nun, Tizona Cortez is your group's mage. She channels the power of God to smite your enemies and bring down the heretic government of Aztlan (formerly Mexico). Lives apart from the rest of the crew, in a convent in Charlotte. Likes: Jesus, helping the unfortunate, low-riders, sangria, Marlboros, fire, killing Aztlanti. Dislikes: heresy, blasphemy, apostasy, hangovers, Aztechnology, The Aztlanti, being ordered to spare the Aztlanti.

>"Barbie"/Lenore Lancester
Not a part of your crew, but a close associate. A total ditz when it comes to anything but fashion, smoothies, and calculating the thousands of variables needed to make the perfect sniper shot. Over 40 confirmed kills. Color-coordinates her duffel bags with her outfit. Suprisingly nice for a professional sniper. Does her work to help out her large family. Likes: fashion magazines, shopping, smoothies, small animals, her BFF Rhun, killing "bad guys". Dislikes: white after labor day, socks and sandals, unnecessary violence, reading.