Civilization Quest Thread

>>704038
Minotaurs in the city underbelly, i.e. the Minotaur's labyrinth
alternatively: Humans in frozen wastes, i.e. primitive man's attempt to colonize Antarctica

>>704046
how about Minotaur in tundra?

>Race: Formian

>Biome: Canyon

>>704038
High Elves
City Ruins

>>704053
I'm cool with anything so long as it involves Minotaur and/or labyrinths
Although tundras could be an issue because Minotaur are afraid of wide spaces

>>704038
DERHII Mountains!
Flying Harambes!

If a conclusive vote isn't reached as of 15 minutes of this comment being posted I will change my vote from:

>>704054

To:

> Race: Minotaur

> Biome: City Underbelly

>>704064
>>704058
>>704053
>>704046
Fair enough. Now, we wait.

Fifteen minutes have passed...

...

I believe we have three votes for minotaur...

Race locked in?

>>704092
Indeed so.

I assume City Underbelly functions for everyone?

>>704098

I'm fine with City Underbelly as our starting Biome...

But I think we only have two votes for it at the moment...

>>704098
I'll vote for Minotaurs in the city underbelly.

OP we're set...

You still there?

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The mountain seems to shudder, ancient dust flowing from abandoned porticoes. An Old man walks through the buried ruins, his gait solid, but his face heavy with tears. Around him, a cloak of purple and gold, upon his head, a Silver Diadem. He walks a few more steps through the ruined sepulchre, finally pausing at an aging statue of dark granite. The Statue seems to stare into him, it's horns of brass seeming to threaten and to goad. The Old King, Priam, sets a bundle in front of the statue. The bundle is freshly cold, and the old man collapses to his knees before the statue.

His voice is commanding, but weighed down by old age, and by fearful grief.

"Please, I beg of you, Brazen one with eyes of Coal, take this child, as you have taken many. The life has drained from him to you already, and from his mother, and I ask only that you grant him life once more."

The eyes of the statue glow like hellfire, and the king rises on groaning joints. He takes only a moment to look with tenderness at the bundle. He hears it, once silent, begin to wail, and leaves. Once the old man is gone, the stone figures around him begin to awaken. He will take hours to fin d his way out, but these stone figures, half man-half bull, will never be able to follow him. They are the Orphans of the King, granted new life by the Bull. Their bodies heave with energy, their skin deep and bronze. Their eyes are wild, for the most part, as stone turns to flesh, but the eyes of coal command them to service.

Their roaring fills the air, but before long, the small bundle of fresh life is taken up in reverent hands, carried like an artefact down, down, into the crypt that never seems to end, past a thousand graves. The creatures of the crypt are silent, and the Orphaned Minotaurs are unmolested. After a time that may not be measured in the dark, their hooves clattered onto cold stone, far at the bottom of the Labyrinth. The bundle is set down in the center of the strange, stone room. It is a sanctum, it is home. Within it, cleaned bones lie in piles, and the minotaurs, great hulks of flesh and ivory, fall to their knees around the bundle of life.

Years pass, and you grow up. You remember nothing of that first night, only after you could walk did you know the world. Your eyes, set in the bull's head, are calm, used to the claoking dark. Your brothers, as you know them, are still wild, and their panicked eyes look only to you, a child, for help. You are a young man now, if you may call yourself a man, and you have never left your Sanctum. One moment in time, that none know as morning or as night, you begin to roar, only to find yourself understanding something.

You have spoken now, and your Brothers, Guardians, look to you once more. For the first time, you can give them the commands they desire.

>Stats/Detail incoming.

>>704168
That's some good shit. Really hoping you don't flake out.

File: 2bd0aa55f554d01dabf1f4a2cc2a8ed8.jpg (54KB, 1000x870px) Image search: [Google]

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You are a Prince. It comes naturally to you, and you know these others are your subjects, even if they cannot tell you. The Sanctum is surrounded by a thousand passageways, to every snaking tendril of the labyrinth. The great structure is packed with life, even if it seems barren. You hear things moving, even if you cannot see them, chitinous clicking, or howling grunts. You do not know the way out, only the Sanctum, the square, empty room in which you dwell, sleeping in a crack in the wall, eating and drinking what is brought to you.

You know you must eat, you know that your brothers will not always defend you, you know that far, far above you, your birthright waits to be claimed. It is like a roar in the back of your mind, the voice of the bull telling you to claim what is yours and to lay waste to a world you have never known.

Nine of your Brothers, great minotaurs, dwell in the barren sanctum, the deepest chamber of a labyrinth. They are not armed, and often return with food while they themselves bleed. They are not wise, nor smart, but you are. You know of tools, of speech, of command. You know most that you need to get out.

>Roll 1d20 for physical actions (Exploring, Creating things) 1d100 for ideas/technologies (Learning about yourself, the Labyrinth, things like that)

Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>704187
Conceive of some small unit for the guardians. They probably know the vicinity of the sanctum well enough to take advantage of it for ambush tactics while hunting. Show them.

>>704194
>small unit tactics*

Rolled 17 (1d20)

>>704187

>There are bones of various creatures discarded on the sanctum floor. Fashion them into bone clubs and spears...

Bumping...

More players needed...

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>>704200
>>704194
You are taken with inspiration by an incident. One of your brothers had been wandering around the sanctum, tracing his fingers along the walls, as he often did, and he had stepped harshly onto a thick bone, left strewn on the floor, snapping it in two and sending a sharpened shard into his calf. You had helped him pick it out and bind the wound with some sinew your brothers had brought back to you. While looking down on the shards, cloaked in the dark, you had an idea. You gathered a pile of long bones, and began to shatter them against the stone walls.

Hours of the resounding shattering of bone begin to fall into a rhythm, while you chip away at great femurs to carve them into sharpened stakes. After a while, you have produced a set of vicious spears, long, sharpened bones. Your brothers take some training to wield them, their great hands unused to tools. They seem curious, and begin to practice the use of their new weapons. You cannot yet view the results, but when the return from their hunts, their prey is far more intact than normal, allowing you some insight into the local wildlife.

The creature they have brought back has been pierced through it's strange, ursine skull, and it's alien gills are red with blood and brain. It's fur is matted and ragged, and you can quickly tell from it's stomach that it was not fed when it died. The beast was clearly formidable, as the ragged bite mark in one of your brother's thighs attests. You eat it raw, as your brothers do, and the best's meat is deep and bloody, seeming to drip with liquid at an odd rate.

>>704216
i am here but i have no great mind

Rolled 3 (1d20)

>>704217

> Explore...

...

>>704219

Even if you can't think of anything to do, you can help break ties by supporting other people's ideas...

Rolled 97 (1d100)

>>704217
Map and record the surrounding area.

>>704252
this

>>704252
+1

OP, you still running...

op pls come back

Rest in peace Mino-quest...

We hardly knew ye...

C'mon man, you can't start THAT good and drop out :(

>>704217
Don't do this. There was a Mino civ quest a while back and I need some now. :(

I don't understand why people even start these if they are gonna drop out 2 hours later