Archived threads in /qst/ - Quests - 600. page

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The sun does not rise or fall here in the desert. It seethes, it blazes, but it does not rest. Sometimes, perhaps the heat will wrench away to bring freezing winds, but it is still there, waiting beneath the sands to strike once more. Sandstorms rage daily, and water is rare, valuable, and fought over.

City states are dotted across the desert, and between them are tiny oasis villages, inhabited by all manner of humanoids, with a preference towards smaller, reptilian , burrowing races.


You know this because there is a vaguely poetic rune recording it in the inside of your mind. You are a Golem, built of a huge slab of sandstone. You communicate through gesture and musical grunting, similar to an organ. You contain a tank, for water, which is now almost empty. You are driven by a mana core. It requires the energy of life to run.

You are alone in the sand, with what water you have only saved from the heat by a thick layer of sand.


You have no tools, and possess nothing. You are surrounded by desert, and to the far west you can see smoke. Your core is running low. You feel.. frightened.

>What do you do?

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Create your kingdoms, conquer strange and unusual people, RPG if you must. Rules are pretty straightforward.

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Your name: Gregor Iseyich

Your equipment: Slightly worn winter-gear, an old set of snow-shoes, 2 old dogs (you ate the ones who died this winter) and a small sled (ideal team is 6 dogs but two can pull it if it isn't overloaded). One hunting knife, one frayed fishing line with hooks, one rusty short-sword, a hunting bow with 10 fowling/blunt arrows(small game) and 10 broadheads capable of taking down reindeer or minor predators (wolves an shit)

Your base: A small semi-dug-in cabin (only the roof and a third of the structure is elevated above ground) built in the side of a low hill. It is in good repair, with a solid door. The kennels have space for up to 8 dogs and are connected to the house via a one-man tunnel, as is the wood shed with your supply of fuel.

A month before sunrise you realise that even if you cut your rations down to basic survival, there is not enough left to carry you and your animals til it is safe to emerge from your cabin. Vermin and mould had spoiled enough of your winter stockpile to ensure this before you got them under control. You decide to wait until you have 3 days of food left before you chance coming out to supplement your stores. Over the years of your family living in this cabin, the major predators and other creatures of ill-will have learnt to avoid the area for the most part unless they are starving.

And so you take to the surface with your hunting gear, harness the last of your dogs and head out into the evernight to see what else has been driven out of hiding this early in the year. You hope to replace them with younger, stronger animals if you can, but that's down to luck, your good fortune, or someone elses' bad. It is two weeks til the sun rises, and you must survive for fourteen days with 3days of rations. The snow still lays thick on the ground and there may yet be a blizzard or two left in the season.

Which way?

>North, where there is ice-fishing on a river and small game that might have surfaced to forage. Occasionally wolves and very rarely the ice-bears will interrupt your hunting here.

>South, where the woods grow taller, and reindeer gnaw lichen from the bark. There are more wolves this way, and sometimes snowcats.

>West, to the lake. Ice-fishing here might get you bigger fish, but your line is old and frayed and may break. This way is also inhabited by the occasional person like you, and you might be able to trade something if you find them. You could also be robbed of what you own.

>East, deeper into the snow-desert. You are unsure what lays this way, but you've been curious to find out for a while. There may or may not be food, and the dangers are unknown.

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Welcome to Sci-fi Cultural Evo, the game of MULTIFACETED GROWTH. In Sci-fi Cultural Evo, you will control both a small but growing village, interact with other villages, and watch as your village's culture grows and changes with the years as events force them to grapple with new introductions to their worldview.

You could have part of your village split off due to a religious or cultural schism, you could create a harmonious society based on brainwashing, or a harmonious society based on fear, or somehow get to Zeta Persei.

We will begin by assigning the first three civilizations. Three people can control a civilization at a time - we will begin when at least four players have assigned themselves to a civilization. In the next post, I will be giving examples of how Cultural Evolution works. Tribes are assigned first-come, first-serve.

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You had always liked space, the feeling of floating free of the embrace of gravity. Perhaps it was because you were born in space; not in one of the rotating habitats that many people called home but onboard an honest to god transfer shuttle. It was cramped and messy but your parents told you it was the best day of their lives. The rest of your life was like that too: Cramped and messy. Growing up onboard a star ship like the MV Close Talker meant that you were raised communally with the other children on board by all of the adults on the ship; occasionally when the ship would stop in system at a station a teacher would come on to help tutor you all, or you’d all go aboard station when you were in your preteen and teen years to get experience interacting with other people. You figure that you’ve been just about everywhere
Onboard a ship, everyone needed to learn a trade to help out, and maybe it was providence that led to you becoming one of the pilots for the ship’s humanoid worker ‘bots. Which ultimately led to you getting good at it and winning a few competitions when you were 16 and 17. And those led to you, well, being where you are now.
Your Hellcat, the roughly humanoid Armored Dragoon you call your own, jinked to the side with a burst of heated propellant, avoiding the burst of three solid iron slugs sent your way with nothing more than a light touch and thought from you. You’d been daydreaming in battle, reminiscing about the past when you had more important things to worry about. Yes, you, Captain Halcyon Asher, are in the middle of a battle. In front of you, their orbital velocities matching yours and accelerating inwards, were four enemy machines: three space versions of the ubiquitous ZW-06 Jurens, their lances replaced with nasty looking railguns and large propellant tanks on the legs; and a single Da Juren, this a special version of that machine meant for Aces and Commanders, with the combination lance-rifle held in its hand. Large, ominous looking monoeyes focused on your Hellcat- the smaller and almost skeletal looking machine seeming small compared to those three- and the freighter behind you. The freighter you were charged to protect. The Freighter that, apparently, contained some kind of secret project vital to the planet you were orbiting, Lincoln.
The time to run from them had long since disappeared, and the time to fight was now! With a cool breath of refreshed oxygen, you prepared yourself. They may outnumber you, but you’re fairly sure you’re a better pilot

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This quest is to see how good I've gotten with Storytelling.
It might be more than one thread, depending if I want to continue it.

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You wake up leaned against a smooth surface.
You appear to be sit down and sleeping against a desk.

However you have yet to open your eyes.

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IN THE TERRIFYING BLACKNESS OF THE VOID, YOU ARE THE LIGHT. Mankind expands to the stars, and with it encounters an entire galaxy's worth of problems. Far from finding other older races, humanity has become the uplifter-race, the only known sentient species to have left its own home under its own power. Hypercorporations engage in economic conflict through mercenary armies and private security firms over valuable resources. Hackers and cyberterrorists wage electronic war over interstellar distances as governments rise and fall within heartbeats. Artificial Intelligences manage our communities and toy with the idea of committing genocide. It is an age of unparalleled advancement. It is the era of the Faster-Than-Light Drive, the deep-space explorer, the free-thinking machine, and the friendly neighborhood alien. It is the era of space warfare as it has never been known before, with ships of truly astounding scale being built and crewed by millions of volunteers to defend against all foes, both real and imagined. It is this era into which you are to be born, citizen. The era of TICONDEROGA STAR.

Welcome to Ticonderoga Star Quest, an adventure set in a persistent and constantly-expanding universe in the far future. Players will be helping contribute to a nascent universe by guiding a specific character through the many perils that exist in the vastness of space.

Let's begin with what you are, before the who. You are...

>A Human. The most prolific and advanced of the races in civilized space, Humanity was the first to leave its own solar system and uplift the aliens it found during its journeys.
>A Chimerae. The Chimerae are the result of human-alien gene splicing by a rogue corporation. Legally found to be sentient and deserving of rights, the Chimerae now rule their own world and run the very corporation that created and tormented them. Chimerae are always female due to the nature of their creation.
>A Consortia. The Machine Consortium holds all heavily-cyberized humans, posthumans, androids, sentient AI, and thinking machines as its members. Having earned their right to legal autonomy through civil rights movements and not a few armed uprisings, the Consortia are still loyal to humanity, but there are seeds of unrest.
>Ch'tauk. A race of massive avians, the Ch'tauk were the first alien race uplifted by humans. Highly intelligent and some of the best navigators around, the Ch'tauk are a noble people held in high regard by humanity as a successful example of uplifting.

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The forest was calm today. Just like it was most of the time, but today there was a stillness to it that Davy could feel as soon as he woke up this morning. Today was the day, he was going to commune with nature again. All druids did this at least once a year. At least that's what Ragscarf told him.
Davy could remember his face; cold and sullen. The man looked like he was carved from stone.
>"All druids commune with Nature Davy. They pick their own day and every druid does it differently. You must find your way. I'll break you down and rebuild you Davy. I'll make a druid of you yet.

And break you Ragscarf did. He wasn't a peaceful man. He found nature by becoming lost in it, he became enfolded into the forces of life by nearly losing his. His training reflected this.
Davy shuddered, he didn't want to think about the trials of his youth. Today was supposed to be a special day.
Davy was 24 years old, a child by druidic standards. Many of the druids eventually became ageless as the forest they tended too became stronger. Many lived to be hundreds of years old. The Arch druid himself was over 500 years old and was so in touch with his forest wherever he stepped flowers would bloom. Davy was nowhere near this powerful but he had his own strengths.
Davy rose from his bed and sighed. He grabbed the satchel of herbs he had prepared the night before and left his small cabin.
Davy felt the sun on his face and smiled.
>Nothing going on today. Good day to do this.
Davy proceeded to the local lake. His favorite spot in the woods.

A short walk later he arrived. Davy takes a deep breath and removed all his clothing with the exception of his bear skin cloak, which he can never remove for more reasons Davy doesn't like to think about. He sat on the shore of the lake and consumed his herbs and waited. Waited for nature to speak to him. Birds chirped in the distance. It was the first sound he had heard from any wildlife that day. It was a good sign.
His perception began to melt. He felt himself falling away. Then she came.

-Continued-

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You are a 16 year old junior in high school. Tired of going unnoticed by the thirsty teenagers in your class, you decide to fix your life by becoming so unbearably sexy that everyone will want you.
As you examine yourself in the mirror, you rate your body internally. Your face, you think, is at least an 8. Your hair is cute and suits your face nicely. You aren't a landwhale or Holocaust mode, you weigh a fitting 120 pounds. You're height is a little less than average, and your butt has earned itself many a compliment from the guys in your class. Your personality has allowed to make many friends, and you're pretty much the most popular girl in class.
However, there is one glaring flaw in your figure.
You happen to wear a size 25A bra. If you flashed a guy, he might think you're a cross dresser. That's how bad your situation is. But not for long!

But before you can do anything, you need to remember your name...

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>Welcome to PokeCiv. You will be playing as Asher, the leader of the prehistoric Longarm tribe in a world filled with Pokemon.

>You will vote on decisions to perform actions for the betterment of your tribe.

>Remember to have fun!

Current Pokemon:

>Asher:
Marowak
Growlithe
Skiddo
Whirlipede
Sableye

>Dart
Spearow
Shinx

>Bron
Geodude
Venipede
Tyrogue

>Other tribesmen
Rattata x2
Venipede x2
Rhyhorn

>At camp
Skiddo x4
Magikarp
Geodude x2

>Discoveries/Developments
HardStone tools
Oran Berry orchard
Bows and arrows
High quality wood
Gemstones
Skiddo riding and milking
Nets
Wooden palisades

>Known areas
West: Forest, Nectar tree
South: Beach, Ocean, Marsh, Wading tribe village
East: Plains, Swiftfoot tribe village, Lake, Desert
North: Canyon, Caves, Sheer cliff
You return from your trek North with an armful of various gemstones, found with the help of Sableye. You don't know exactly what you're going to use them for, but they look very nice. You could probably use them as leverage in trade if nothing else.

Bron gets the two new Geodude settled in, and tries to get them to warm up to other tribesmen.

You look around your little village. You've got a tribesman fishing for Magikarp in the river, one tending the Oran Berry orchard, one milking the Skiddo, and your hunters have just returned with another kill. Everyone is more than well fed. This kind of prosperity would be impossible back in the canyon, where you were all snatching eggs from nests to survive. Moving out to the plains was truly the right choice.

After showing off the gems to the other tribesmen, who are in awe of their beauty, you think on your next move.

>A.Explore an area (Specify)

>B.Go meet the Swiftfoot/Wading for trade

>C.Search for more monsters to catch (Roll 1d20)

>D.Create/Develop/Research (Specify)

>E.Other

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>OOC: Previously, on Shipgirl Commander >>16387

You hesitate for a bit... on one hand, you really didn't want to be late with your appointment, and Tenryuu DID say it was ASAP. On the other, you didn't know your way around town that well... even with the directions, it was still a liability; and with the old man talking about things as they were, what with the bad state of the buildings, one never knew if or when they would collapse. You look from the crowd of people to the road. The town did look like it wasn't safe to be wandering around right now.

You sigh... and lean against one of the blocks of concrete on the side, right next to the crowd. It was better not to rush around like this.

You listen in to the small group of citizens as they carry on their conversation. A lot of them are arguing, but you can tell that it's not the kind people would get into fistfights over - a lot of them were just throwing words in jest. It was a testament to how close they were, even after all that happened. The old man that had convinced you to not wander alone was making most of the points and as the time passed you found yourself drawn into the discussion.

They talked about everything. How they'd manage their livelihoods now; how things were going to change after the assault; how it was hard to cope now that most of the citizens had up sticks further inland and effectively abandoned their previous lives; how some of them were looking for someone to blame but found that they just couldn't.

You found out some finer details, too. Yokosuka had a minor fishing community before the Admiralty had turned it into a front. It had a culture rich in hunting, too - there had been a museum destroyed in an accident decades before in tribute to this - and that prior to the initial invasion and a shift in the Admiralty's specifications, was also a large industrial hub.

Then the conversation topic shifts to you.

You're nervous, though, giving away your background - mostly because they're strangers to you and you're one to them. You talk about your life prior to what brought you here, how your upbringing made you love food, how opportunity and a desire to chance it for once made you come here...

They don't ask you about your arm, not once.

You wonder how long time had passed as you finish, when the sound of a revving engine reaches your ears.

The MPs had just arrived.

You wave off the citizens, and raise a hand to the MP that had just arrived...

'Why, son of a gun! Kid, you're alive?!'

'Mr Bus Driver?!'

He leaps out of the buggy and gives you a quick hug, laughing. You return it, glad to see a familiar face.

'They managed to fix you up?! Damn! That's a fine darn job they did! Thought you were a goner for sure!' He slaps your prosthetic in good nature, still laughing loudly.

You find yourself speechless, not quite knowing where to begin.

>'How'd you survive?'
>'What are you doing in that get-up?'
>'I need to get to Teitan High A-S-A-P.'

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lets tell a story about how OP is a fag. This must be a literary work of epic proportions to rival the Illiad. Together and as one we shall write the greatest story ever told that generations will read about for eons to come.

I'll start with the opening line: "OP is a fag"

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Twitter: @BeleagueredQM
Pastebin: http://pastebin.com/FEc6v8FP

Threads 1-10: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Beleaguered%20Prince%20Quest

Threads 11+: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Beleaguered%20Prince%20Quest

===============

You are Prince Meirion auk Gwyrren, the only sane man in a royal family with dubious concepts of strategy, justice, taxation, and governance in general. You have made it your goal in life to keep your family on the throne and your head firmly attached to your body.

You have recently learned that your uncle is sending mercenaries and other armed forces to the neighbouring kingdom of Rosea. You're not sure what he's planning, but it seems likely that he's going to support one of his allies or connections in some sort of internal conflict. Although what happens in Rosea isn't any concern of yours, you can't allow their internal affairs to benefit your uncle, so now you're getting ready to deal with yet another problem of rather significant proportion.

"The first order of business is to decide how many soldiers we should bring," Myrddin says. "We'll need some kind of military force if we want to be effective."

"If we pose as a small mercenary company, we'll need at least a hundred men," Olwen says. "Anything less, and we won't be able to accomplish anything. Honestly, a thousand men would be best."

"The problem is time," Myrddin says. "Getting supplies for a hundred soldiers isn't too difficult, but arming a thousand would be challenging."

"But we can do it if we have to," you say.

"Oh, it is possible," Olwen says. "But if the slightest thing goes wrong, it would be very bad for us later on."

>"We'll settle for a hundred men."
>"Five hundred men will be enough."
>"We need a proper army. We'll get those thousand soldiers somehow."

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Catgirl quest
Totally legit and work safe.

Let's join our new friend here on a typical catgirl day.

1s, 6s or 9s to win.