Archived threads in /qst/ - Quests - 321. page

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>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D6qCo5LA0wU
>Previously: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Solstar%20Security
>Previously for this map: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/797868/

bringing tactical display up
resetting targetting perimeters
testing validity ... operational
testing fuzzy logic ... operational
testing boundary controls ... operational
testing ballistics... o͓̼̫͙͇̕ͅp͎̱͕̬͟e͇͍͟ṟ̷̞͈ational

---

[R1 LooseWidget] Move out, team. Orders of Tactical - Improvise.

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ARCHIVE: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Dungeon%20Life%20Quest
PREVIOUS THREAD: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/819124/
CHARACTERS AND PLACES: https://docs.google.com/document/d/19gNVgtevar647l4ZumUaVH6GlJzvxLlDNKaH8DrQMWE/edit?usp=sharing

You are Brianna la Croix, necromancer, and you're realizing you don't have a plan beyond 'rescue the pixie'.

But that might actually be okay. You don't know the situation as well as you could or maybe should. You don't know what the people of the Sunless Sea might need.

Hell, you don't even know if you can actually restrain the ship.

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From the corner of the room, a man whispers to you.

>Do as we say....say as we do....keep moving forward...

You tun and exit through the door, moving down the hallway. You walk through another hallway, and another, and then, suddenly, you're outside. The sun blinds you momentarily, and you feel a flash of yourself. You see a crowd in front of you; they are cheering on someone on a stage. Music is blaring, loud and violent. You and the man begin to push your way through the crowd. People are jumping and screaming in your ear, and suddenly someone slams against the man. You remember a bit about yourself.

>Male or female
>Age
>Name

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And we're back!

Everyone wakes up after a great night of sleep; it's almost time to go to school. You could do a few things before the due time, or just not go at all!

For new players: say a name and a gender and hope you don't die.

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You are Kusajishi Riku, now one and whole instead of being divided between the body of a Captain and her two zanpakuto. The rogue scientist Inaba has been put to death at Yoruichi's hand after a desperate fight, and now your side finally has a brief chance to catch its collective breath as the remaining Captain-class reigai close ranks.

“This ain't good,” reigai-Gin muses, backing away from Starrk. “Tried to tell him pissin' people off like that was gonna get him killed but no Gin, you're just a copy I made, why should I listen to you... moron.”

“Yeah, kinda feels like he made a mistake giving us personalities,” reigai-Rangiku sighs in resignation. “I mean if what he really wanted was blind obedience he should've gotten a dog.”

“Or just made thirteen copies of Captain Komamura,” reigai-Gin jokes.

Suì Fēng's reigai looks like she's about to have an aneurysm. “If the two of you are quite done, we have something rather pressing to deal with here.”

“You're no fun,” Gin's copy grins. “Never were, ever since we were kids.”

“Ichimaru... you still are a kid. That's the problem.”

“So what's the plan?” Halibel asks, still looking haggard from the fight before you arrived. She must've taken one of her own Cascada in the face at close range before they realized how Inaba's ability worked... almost anyone else wouldn't have gotten up after that.

You simply shrug, and respond in the familiarly echoing voice you now possess. “Not my call, I have been largely uninvolved in judicial matters for decades. Yoruichi is the one who knows the applicable precedents.”

Yoruichi ponders the point for a moment before explaining exactly how many of the Seireitei's rather short list of laws have been broken. “Creating the reigai in the first place was Inaba's crime: they should never have existed, but here we all are. The Central 46 will likely seek to hold them to account for everything that happened afterwards.”

“Attacking a Captain and committing acts of terrorism are both potential capital offenses. The law regarding mod souls states clearly that we're supposed to destroy them. Then there's the old law about two shinigami sharing one zanpakuto, which may be applicable.”

“Surely it can't be that simple?” Starrk asks incredulously. “I mean damn, everything's punishable by death here? What about you two? What about us arrancar?”
>1/2

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"Are you looking for adventure? Money? Women? Power? Well then sign up to be a Waol Herder! Or a fish farmer! Provide your family with tons of blubber! Good for burning, twice as good for eatin'!"

Is what you hear as you pass by the market. Although it lacks for excitement it's better than starving. Also a nice slab of fat sounds good enough to eat... But is you entire goal in life to be a farmer?

>Yeah, let the rest of the guys leave the island, I'll just fuck the their wives while their gone. Then when we're done we can eat some blubber.

>No, I don't want to work, I just want enough money to not know what to do with

>No, I want real power. The old-fashion way. War.

>No, I want to leave this place forever

>Write in

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[Please note that Titanfall Lore is pretty sketch outside the Frontier and the game, so I'm going to filling in the blanks as plausibly as possible.]

>Pastebin for stats
>http://pastebin.com/QdBZMmWz

Before Typhon, before Demeter. Even before the Titan Wars had first begun, there was Earth. A tiny blue speck that dreamed of no longer seeing the stars, but to touch them.

That dream had came true.

Where were you born?
>Within the Core Worlds [+1 Charisma and Lore]
>In the Outer Worlds [+1 Athletics and Guts]
>Out there, in the Void between Stars [+1 Subterfuge and Wits]

And how did you live?
>In the rich upper class, away from the dregs of society. [+2 Charisma]
>Somewhere in the middle class, where everyday was a struggle to meet the needs of the many. [+1 Athletics, +1 Wits]
>In the seedy underbelly. Forgotten, and forgettable. [+1 Subterfuge and Guts]

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>Early 2016
>Armor Corps HQ, New Zealand, 9:30 in the fucking morning

The VR Training Room was always cold.

The many ACs spread evenly across the room's bare metal ceiling and the numerous computers running the complex virtual reality setup made a low wall of noise that never really got loud enough to be annoying, but was never low enough to just fade into the background of people's minds when they inhabited this room.

Falcon was already used to it, given his horrible luck usually meant he drew the short straw when Command needed one of the veteran Pilots to train a fresh batch of newbies. Drumming his fingers on the console as his Suit's AI interacted with the Sim Room's 'dumb' AI to set up the usual training program, he wondered WHY Command always sent the newbies to train here. At this point, it was probably more a tradition than anything else.

<Boss, we're done.> the AI chimed in, Hardlight body materializing beside the console.

"Thanks Robin. Now we just gotta wait for them to show up." he nodded, looking at the console's clock. Still a few minutes early.

He did, however, like this job. Seeing what new Suits could pull off was always fun. The newbies' gear was already pre-loaded into the system, courtesy of the Engineers sending their files in ahead of time. It was just a question of setting up a proper obstacle course for them, and seeing what mayhem would ensue. Robin pulled up holoscreens with the newbies' specs, passing them over to Falcon's tablet as well, and they waited.

>WE'RE BACK BOYOS
>This is the first in what hopefully will be a new string of Missions for Power Armor CYOA: Teamwork Edition
>If you're curious about what the fuck is PACYOA, head over to the wiki http://the-power-armor-cyoa.wikia.com/wiki/PACYOA_Teamwork_Edition
>Or, the Rizon IRC room #ACHQ, where our players gather to plan for missions and talk shit
>Registered Players, post away. We'll be hooking you up to the Matrix shortly.

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Last time on EDQ, we heard about a Slaaneshi cult led by furry vore bondage perverts, and we're actually trying to find them.
This is great. Oh, and we tumbled the shit out of Elizabeth, and promised her we'd get her children that don't just grow up in two weeks. And we're also remodeling our palace!

Character Sheet: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1jI0aGxA_2h3SAcPYri-1fdgskbK3IbtfEzSLJ7VY9gU/edit?usp=drive_web (Anons can edit this if they feel like helping!)

Twitter: QuestingQM

I'm also running Werewolf Reich in the background anons, so expect slow updates!

After Quoth's (Your new Tzeentchian pet daemon bird!) rather stunning explanation on how the Warp works in this dimension, you and Chrysoula get out. Amaya and Adelmann say they'll watch from the car to see if any suspicious figures enter, and you hold hands with Chrysoula and enter... That's when you see a cart outside, run by a rather disgusted young man who seems to be selling comic books. You take a look with Chrysoula... And see they're from Japan. You of course buy some of them after making sure all your headmates are arguing with each other, and quietly stow it away... You'll read them later. There was always a reason why the Japanese are honorary Aryans... Also because you like their books and art style.

After making the embarrassing purchase, you head inside with Chrysoula, holding hands tightly... As you look at relatively normal people enter, and obivous furfags wearing fursuits entering. You are very tempted to punch one in their fucking face. Very.
You enter with Chrysoula, trying your best not to give yourself away, and she just seems confused by what everyone's doing... Selling plushie toys, fursuits, that sort of thing.

"...Ren? I don't like being here."

"Neither do I, sweethorns."

"Sweethorns?" She seems entertained by that.

"Shush Horny, we're trying to find cultists..."

Roll me a 1d20 to see if you can find suspicious people. Additional +3 if you can think on what a Slaaneshi vore bondage furfag would look like.
And if you feel degenerate, an additional +2 if you can think on what fursuit such a faggot would wear.

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You are the professional, talented, yet perhaps a bit in over your head Lieutenant Richter Von Tracht of the Strossvald Army.

Most officers would be able to say what platoon they commanded, what company they were in, of what battalion, perhaps regiment, but not you. You were in command of a smattering of strays and rogues, a band of fighters united by chance and organized into an ad hoc group with the task of resolving the mystery of a bizarre supernatural creature.

You couldn’t say that this was something you expected when you signed up.

You had planned out the manner you’d dispose of said creature with the closest thing you had to a subject matter expert, one Maddalyn Von Blum.

Dispensing with subtlety, you threw your support behind the plot which provided you with the most arms with which to combat the beast; containment being the backup procedure.

Maddalyn had simply nodded and sent you away. “I’ll need to prepare some things, and it’ll take the rest of the day. You should rest.”

You saluted. “By your will,” then turned and left. The door creaked behind you, making what sounded to you like a disappointed sigh.

Von Metzeler and Krause met with you when you were outside.

“They do not seem concerned with the recent happenings,” Metzeler, your temperamental ally said through gritted teeth. Said recent happening was the ambush of an armored train by seperatist militias, and the possible capture of a battalion’s worth of armor and equipment. “Such lax initiative is vexing.”

“They said they took care of it,” Krause tried to reassure Metzeler, “Maybe it wasn’t as bad as it seemed.”

Von Metzeler’s eyes flicked to the sky before falling down to you. “Von Tracht, do you know what our assignment now is?”

You tell your two tank commanders the task you have been trusted with, as well as your current organization. “We’ll probably be reorganized as normal after this is done.”

“So you are in command of this mission?” Von Metzeler said, not at all rattled or otherwise perturbed by the nature of what he was being asked to help do. “Very well. I request that we be given additional personnel, though. We are presently operating far under strength, and will be vulnerable to enemy ambush unless we are properly formidable. At the very least Krause should be given a tank to command, a tank officer is hardly serving his full potential as a gunner.”

“We shouldn’t draw forces away from here in such times,” Krause countered carefully, “I think we should just get resupplied with fuel and ammunition and be on our way. The enemy was to the east, anyways. To the north, where we are headed, are the garrisons of the Imperial Gate. They shouldn’t dare to tread there, unless…in any case, they wouldn’t if they were properly cautious.”

>Requisition an additional tank and enough crew to man your vehicles
>Just get a resupply and rest
>Go above and beyond and try to grab another two tanks as well as crew to have a near full platoon
>Other

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“Of all the thoughtless, bone-headed, inconceivable chicanery I’ve witnessed over the past several weeks! Tell me, what precisely were any of you boys thinking!?”

Silence hangs thick in the air, his only response for a long while as Cici’s armor clad uncle continues to pace back and forth before the would-be werewolves that had just moments ago been chasing the girls through the cornfields. Masks now gone, faces decidedly pale, the many pocked and freckled lads had taken a decided interest in their toes, apparently unwilling to meet the gaze of the man who had just moments ago been completely aflame or the manticore that loomed on the other side of him.

“Well? Come now,” he demands, cape billowing behind him as he continues to stalk the grounds. “The cat can’t have run off with all of your tongues. So, explain to me why three nearly adult boys would be attempting to frighten as many children half to death in the middle of the night! Huh?”

Uncle Lee’s tone is severe as he swaps glances between the three bowed heads before him, occasionally turning toward his niece where she quietly cradles her rabbit off to the side. Her heart pounding, Din-Din’s breathing coming rough as he meekly nuzzles against her stomach, it’s hard to gather the thoughts to do or say much past the pain in her scraped knees and the throbbing pressure mounting against the inside of her skull, the latter likely from attempting magic far beyond her years.

“I-It w-were just a j-joke, s-sir…” One of the boys speaks up shakily. “We w-weren’t lookin’ to h-hurt ‘em or nothin’…”

“It’s what ya do on Hallow’s Eve,” another insists.

“Hallow’s Eve or no, there is a point where a joke has simply gone too far,” the man admonishes them. “First of all, the essence of comedy is in punching up, not down, and no self-respecting comedian (or really any other individual) would waste ammunition on directly bullying someone a third his age and a third his size for kicks.”

“B-but she t-tried to hex us!” the last boy accuses, pointing a finger toward Cici. “S-She’s a monster!”

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This is a game called "you are bob". In this game everyone plays one character, Bob. Bob has a backpack that he can grab almost anything out of.

Here's how it's played: The GM (me) puts bob in a situation, and ad a group you have to decide on what he does in repsonse. You would say your suggestion and roll 1D20, the person with the highest roll controll what bob does. The number also affects the success of his actions. It is also picture based (really bad pictures tho)

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Archive : http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Above+and+Below+Quest

Twitter:
https://twitter.com/FalloutQM

Character sheet
http://pastebin.com/TPK3n7TX

Glossary
http://pastebin.com/WVhWk0nv

Discord Discussion:
https://discord.gg/jHgNuKw

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Alright new civil thread let's see where this takes us. I'll do my best not to be a fag and abandon.

Pick a civ and place to live. First to 3 wins.

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You are, as always, Gurie Niamc the cool, mature, and beautiful Queen of Friendland, where everyone is your friend and no one is mean to you!

"Suzie, please give my complements to the chef." You smile, Suzie dabbing a bit of frosting off your face as you finish eating your third cupcake. They are strawberry vanilla flavored. Your favorite. As Suzie, your dutiful Maid Knight knows. Suzie knows everything about you, that's what friends are for after all.

"Those where my cupcakes." Suzie grins as she withdraws her handkerchief to dab a tear from one button eye, "It means so much to hear that you like them."

You pat your loyal knight-maid on the head, the maid blushing through her stitch--work. "You have pleased your queen today Suzie, come have some with me." You push the tray over, the pile of cupcakes glistening with freshly made icing as your lady in waiting melts into a pile of tears and blushes.

"To.. to eat the same food as you Gurie? I was happy enough just breathing the same air." You chuckle as you undo the wrapper and feed it to your doll friend. The woman kneeling before you with buttons glistening with such anticipation.

Honestly what would she do without you.

~~~~~~~

"My lady, if I may ask a question." Your noble retainer begins as she wipes the frosting off her mouth, the cupcakes having since been enjoyed.

"Why must you insist on going on this little quest of yours. It's dangerous! Why not come back to the castle with me?"

>Now Suzie, how can it be dangerous if I have you?
> Suzie I need to learn the plight of the common folk if I expect to lead them. It's important that I do this.
> Well my subjects need my help, I can't turn my back on them in their time of peril.
>Write in.


Mimikyu walks around the floor of the hotel room, as a ghost sleeping wasn't really high in their worries as it watches Gurie snore happily, the floating ball of malice circling over Gurie, bobbing happily.

You have to admit, you are a little curious about it.

> Poke it with your stick.
> Whisper to it.
>Actually... its kinda scary. Maybe you should ask Ralts about it?