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>>35203846

META NOTE: Your actions are more likely to succeed the higher they are on the "Heavy Metal Album Cover" scale. You're fighting a fallen angel with rock inside of a pocket dimension of Hell-on-Earth. This is no time to bitch out.
Twitter (for runtimes, not my political opinions): https://twitter.com/HaikuDeluge

Archive (for reading when you feel nostalgic for the good old days when the accountant played in the middle of highways): http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Rock+Quest

STATS:

ROCK OFFS WON/CHALLENGED: 2/3
AFTERLIFE EXPERIENCES: 1/???
DEMON SCHLONGS SEEN: 54/???
ELEMENTS UNLOCKED: 2/2 [Fire & Lightning]
ALIGNMENT: TRUE ROCK - "Rock is worth doing."

>>35203917

Not sure how I dropped my trip there.

>[x]guitar clash
Why are we fighting an angel? Are we not on a mission from god? Or is it a fallen angel?

>>35203846
>GUITAR CLASH

>>35204182
Read the archives, bro. This guy's been playing music at the top of the tower the demons are building. I think we can assume he's fallen.

>>35203846
>[] GUITAR CLASH

>[] GUITAR CLASH

>>35203846
The angel is flying at you, eyes on fire, the light of your wings reflecting off every spike on his guitar, screaming a wordless battlecry. He's still hammering out an arpeggio on the chrome mace of an instrument he holds above his head.

Truth be told, you expected something like this. He didn't look like the type who'd bite the pillow and take it lying down.

You ready your own guitar, gripping it like a baseball bat, continuing your solo with hammer on after hammer on. Your wings streak back as you charge to meet the fallen angel, the roiling white flames speeding you on your way.

Two shooting stars on a collision course across the rounded sky, you and the angel fly toward each other, guitars resounding with sound and ready to strike.

You meet in an explosion of sound, directly over the tower. The noise of your clash echoes through the dome, blasting speakers and slabs of rock loose from the ziggurats, shaking the tower.

The red sun itself dims for a moment as your guitars slam against each other, sending a shock up your arm, but you hold firm against the force of the angel's assault.

You don't miss a note.

Anger distorts his beautiful face as he grinds down with his spiked guitar. "You!" he screams, in a voice made of a virgin's moans and a 56k modem's mating call "How dare a human interfere with the grand ritual? I will rock your bones dry, filth!"

>[] POWER CHORDS
>[] PUSH BACK ON HIS GUITAR
>[] ANOTHER ROUND OF SKY JOUSTING
>[] BADASS WRITE-IN

>>35204505
>56kb modem
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8K_QcctBftY

>>35204505
>[x] POWER CHORDS

>>35204505
>[] ANOTHER ROUND OF SKY JOUSTING

>>35204505
>[X] POWER CHORDS

Bring the Lightning on this Flying pansy!

>>35204505
>>[x] POWER CHORDS
Maintain your grip and glide your hand up and down the frets. Simple but effective.

>>35204505
>56k modem
Ah, those were the days, dialing to BBSes and listening to the dial tones. The age before the world wide web.

>>35204505
You twist away, wings churning the air, swooping away from the angel as you bring your guitar back into a playing position. Your hand sweeps down, and your guitar blasts out a power chord. Lightning sparks under your fingers, and you sweep the instrument toward the angel.

The electricity streaks out toward him, catching him as he circles around for another round of jousting. You see his robes burst into flames as he loses a little bit of altitude, then catches himself, and sets his fingers on his own guitar.


Now he's mad. You flap your wings and jet aside to dodge a scorching tongue of electricity flying at you from his violent assault on his instrument's fretboard. Then another, and you're firing back, spiraling through the sky as your fingers jack your guitar off, ejaculating bolt after bolt at the angel's speeding naked form.

Up, down, right, left - they're just words.

They've lost all meaning for you.

From the red dunes, it must look like the best light show ever, electricity arcing across the sky in time to the dueling guitars, but for you it's deadly serious, this careening rock battle against the fallen angel.

>[] TRY LONG RANGE BATTLE
>[] GET IN HIS FACE
>[] EVADE BEHIND THE TOWER
>[] BADASS WRITE-IN

>>35205004
>>[] GET IN HIS FACE
Go for a headbutt and break this loser's nose.

>>35205004
>[] EVADE BEHIND THE TOWER
Force him to smash his own tower to get to you.

>>35205082
Let's do this.

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>>35205004
Let's get some 1d100 rolls.

Rolled 45 (1d100)

>>35205132

Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>35205132
Bracing for impact.

>>35205082
dice+1d100

Headbutt time!

Rolled 22 (1d100)

>>35205132
Shoot him down from the sky!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZO6giM9UAv0

Rolled 73 (1d100)

>>35205132

>>35205198
Ew.. Anon, I think you didn't pray hard enough.

>>35205004
You dive behind the great tower, thinking that'll force him to get closer, shooting down from the sky in a white blaze of glorious flame. You pull out of the dive in a formation of lesser demons on the tower's ramp, your wings burning and consuming them, the shrieks of the dying surrounding you.

The angel comes, drawn by the noise, swooping around the side of the tower, his terrible eyes searching for you.

Just as planned.

You rocket up to meet him, playing wildly on your guitar, wings shooting out behind you in a vast burning plume. No messing around with a guitar stroke this time - you're going to get ahead of the game. Your jaw muscles clench as you prepare to headbutt an angel. The riff carries you higher, faster, straight through his shower of lightning bolts.

But you're not fast enough. He jerks back at the last second, wings backing air as he brakes desperately. You shoot up in front of him, and he snags your IV with his spiked guitar.

Pain.

Pain you feel yourself kind of care about, as the needle rips from the flesh of your arm and your riff breaks off.

>[] DO MORE COCAINE
>[] REMEMBER THE BASICS OF CQC
>[] CLUB HIM DOWN WITH YOUR GUITAR
>[] BADASS WRITE-IN

>>35205556
>[] BADASS WRITE-IN

Melt his face with the most metal scream of pain you can muster.

Which is probably a lot since you just got your Happy Juice ripped out of you.

>>35205556
>[X] REMEMBER THE BASICS OF CQC
HEAVENS DIVIDE

Rolled 63 (1d100)

>>35205556
>[] DO MORE COCAINE
I'm retiring from rolls after this one.

>>35205556
>>[] BADASS WRITE-IN
Following >>35205592
Bleed his ears out with your screams of pain and metal

>>35205556
>[] BADASS WRITE-IN
rock the pain away
STRAIGHT IN HIS FACE

>>35205592
The IV bag has been empty for a while. He just ripped the needle out of your vein, which hurts something horrible.

Your wings of white flame are currently being fueled by a self-administered injection of cocaine solution.

>>35205556

Supporting metal scream. >>35205592

Rolled 3 (1d100)

>>35205654
If it hurt enough to go through Cocaine Powers, then we can probably make a Metal Scream out of it.

>>35205596
This. If we don't start playing Snake Eater....

>>35205556
>>35205592

This. Just like the Who's scream from Won't Be Fooled Again

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>>35205556
You scream in pain.

A thousand cats in a thousand blenders are your vocal chords. You split your lungs with blood and thunder. A metal scream rips from your lips, a blasphemy of chrome and titanium, the scorned love child of a goat's defiant cry and the sirens of all the police that aren't in Detroit.

You see the angel grimace, his perfect face contorting in pain. The fire in his eyes dims as he covers his ears with his hands, cowering before your mighty scream.

You scream on and on, a deafening, rough noise, the cry of nails being pulled from pine, the shriek of steel being wrenched apart by tongs. Demons grovel on the terraced ramps of the tower, trying to block the horrible noise from the ears.

The scream has bought you a few precious seconds.

>WHAT DO YOU DO?

Combine the power of rock and roll with the power of the ancients upon whose shoulders we stand. Channel Beethoven, Mozart, Wagner, Vivaldi and those musical musical titans in a song to which will ring throughout the ages, forever exalted as the day that man rocked so hard he blasted the forces of evil back to their dens, wailing and clutching their ears from the sheer power of MUSIC.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=txwlKqt01TQ
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YzOF9w8kG-c

>>35206085
Smite evil with the power of ROCK!

>>35206085
>RIP HIS FUCKING WING OFF

>>35206085
try to decapitate him with your guitar

>>35206096
>>35206085
Sorry, forgot to quote

>>35206096
This.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VUjUIP2ugG4

Oh yes, Heaven or Hell, let's rock

>>35206085
You heft you guitar by its neck, hammering out a hook pieced together from what you remember of those high-class concerts your ex-wife dragged you to. The guitar swings full circle, behind your back, and forward, a motion you remember from golfing expeditions with your boss.

But then you were hitting golf balls, and now you're hitting angel testicles.

Your guitar connects solidly between the fallen angel's legs, and you blast off, soaring up the side of the tower with him straddling the vibrating body of your instrument, grinding it deeper and deeper into his pulverized testicles as you head for the sky. His spiked instrument falls on an unfortunate demon further down the tower, its screaming the slightest bit of background noise, crushed mercilessly by your classically-inspired solo.

Faster and faster you rocket up, your riffs intensifying and driving you to even higher speeds, wings of flame spread behind you.

Then you clear the top of the tower, and fling the angel into the air. He tumbles through the sky over the white stone pyramid, and you take the time to line up the perfect strike.

You charge forward and slice your guitar into the angel's neck. It breaks with a meaty crack, but your blunt instrument can't cleave through the solid flesh.

His body twists in midair from the force of your blow. You let go of your guitar, reach out, and grab a double handful of angel wing. Your foot shoots out, slamming the sole of your befouled shoe into his shoulder, and you pull.

You PULL, as the last chord of your solo dies away, and his wing tears off, coming away in your hands, a gore-smeared trophy of a battle like no other.

He falls onto the white stone pyramid, broken and defeated, bleeding from the huge gash in his back.

You stand on the half-finished stage, atop the demonic tower of speakers, pathed in the dim red sunlight of this domed world.

>[] FIND THE BAND
>[] DO MORE COCAINE
>[] BEAT HIM TO A PULP
>[] DO MORE COCAINE
>[] BADASS WRITE-IN

>>35206787
>[x] COUP DE GRACE
>[x] FIND THE BAND

>>35206787
>>[] DO MORE COCAINE
I think we've earned it.

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>>35206787
META NOTE: Don't worry, you'll get to choose whether to blow everything up in red, blue, or green explosions.

Also, the condition you find the band in may vary, depending on how much time you spend playing with the angel.

>>35206787
>>[] FIND THE BAND
>>[] BADASS WRITE-IN
FEED THE ANGEL TO THE FISH

>>35206787
>[] DO MORE COCAINE

We have transcended mortality.

>>35206914
I support this.

>>35206787
>>[] BADASS WRITE-IN

Stand on the top of the pyramid, lift the angel above our head, and rip him in half.

>>35206787
> POSE FABULOUSLY, THE RAYS OF THE HELLISH SUN SHINING BEHIND YOU, ALOFT IN WINGS OF WHITE FLAME AS YOU HOLD THE BLOODY WINGS OF A FALLEN ANGEL, YOUR GUITAR FLOATING BY YOUR SIDE, STILL SPARKING WITH THUNDER AND WISPS OF FLAME AND THE MORNING STAR FALLING, LITERALLY, TO HIS DEATH
>THE PERFECT COVER FOR YOUR ALBUM.

Then,
>FIND YOUR BAND

>>35206787
>STICK ON HIS WINGS

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QgACcUDttQ0

>>35206914
This, we need to find our band.

>>35206925
>>35206787
Switching vote to >>35206946

Awaken my masters

> write in: Eat the wings, make Ozzy proud.

>>35206787
>>35206946

Hard to get more Metal than this.

>>35206787
THIS >>35206914

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We Dethklok now.

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>>35207082
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ULhuewfzw04

>mfw

>>35207146
I was thinking something more along the lines of us, with the sun behind our head so it looks like an angel's halo, our features hidden by the shadows, except for our eyes, which glow with a golden light.
Our arms spread open as if we were Jesus nailed to the cross, holding an amputated wing in each hand, with our guitar floating by itself in front of us.
Meanwhile, in the bottom of the cover, you can see ol' Louie screaming as he plummets to his death.

All that drawn in the same style as the cover of Dio's Holy Diver.
Or maybe Manowar's Gods of War.

>>35207647
Even better. You talking about some Frank Frazetta shit, right?

>>35207667
Had to google his name but now that I've seen his art, yeah, its exactly the style I was thinking, down to the colors.

>>35206787
(1/3)

The brilliant white light of your wings easily eclipses the dim, angry sun as you pose atop the tower, guitar still wreathed in flame and sparking at intervals, face turned to the polished marble sky. You hold the torn-off wing aloft, letting the angel's bright red blood spatter down on you, red drops rolling down your naked chest, dripping from your sculpted muscles.

Last week you were doing paperwork.

You are an accountant, and your midlife crisis is over, having climaxed in a glorious blaze of drugs and rock 'n' roll. You can't help but feel that threre's something missing there, as you let the angel's wing fall and pick up the fallen being himself.

You sling him over your shoulder. He's bigger than the fish bits you used to get for the little things in your son's aquarium, but it's the same thought.

He's going to sleep with the fishes tonight.

Or, rather, in the fish.

>>35206787
(2/3)

You hear the noises of combat, no longer blocked out by your own frenetic playing, and walk to the edge of the stage. When you look over the edge, you see a great multitude gathered - demons and human slaves ringing the tower, some fighting, many still looking up, packed rank for a good mile or more from the tower. There's a group of hooded demons, drawn up in good order, rank upon rank, ignoring the chaos around them.

On the ramp below you, almost three-quarters of the way up the tower, you see your band doggedly fighting their way up. The DJ, her slight form orbited by flying, pulsating speakers, is smashing demons down with their bulk and their beats, the center of a whirlwind of destruction.

The priest's scissors fling demon blood with every slice, his sweat soaked mullet flipping as he bangs his head to the DJ's beat. The nurse is covering his back, muscles straining under his bare skin as he thrusts the blunt end of the broken keyboard into a demon's face, smashing it in. They're fighting between the DJ and the bassist, giving Hell to any demons climbing up the side or jumping down on them.

The bassist, a huge, scarred man, dressed in the tattered remains of an orchestra tux, is swinging his steel-bound octobasse against a demon half again as tall as he is, forcing it back toward the edge of the ramp, step by bloody step.

>>35206787
(3/3)

Then you see the fish. At least, you're pretty sure that thing used to be the fish.

It's a titanic sea serpent now, or is it a dragon? You son could have told you, but you were never really up on your fantasy terms. Anyway, the cyclopean dragon-serpent is tearing through the sea of demons gathering on the terraces below the band. It body slams one of the giant horned demons into the tower, and you can feel even the stage you're standing on vibrate.

Then it seizes the demon in its terrible maw, a monstrous thing reinforced with slabs of embossed steel, and shakes it like a dog shakes a rat, sweeping away a legion of lesser demons by using their commander as a broom.

It's one of the most brütal things you've ever seen.

"Dragon!" you yell at it, as its teeth finally saw the demon in half. It hears your ringing voice and turns its head toward you, "I brought you a present!" you shout, and throw the one-winged angel at its gaping jaws.

He never makes it.

At first,t he body tumbles through the air, limbs slack like a ragdoll's. Suddenly, it stops, the single remaining wing sticking straight up, shining white, anchoring it in midair.

Then a wing pushes its way out of the still-bleeding gash. The another, and another, pushing out and rotating into position around the body like an old clock being wound sickeningly fast. The wings are mangling the body holding them together, extending out in twisted mockery of a long-petaled flower.

Fuck.

You swear you can hear Latin chanting, and then spot the legion of hooded demons, hoods thrown back, a conductor standing on a pile of shattered speakers, leading them in a swelling, ominous song.

And your buzz is mostly gone.

Maybe you should go back to doing paperwork.

>[] Do more cocaine
>[] Call the band up to the stage
>[] Assault the regenerating angel by yourself
>[] Write-in

>>35208092
>>[x] Do more cocaine
>>[x] Call the band up to the stage
>>Rock the everliving fuck out of the choir.

>>35208092
>>[] Call the band up to the stage

It's time for an ALL OUT ATTACK!

>>35208092
>[] Call the band up to the stage

>>35208092
>[] Do more cocaine
now is really not the time for drawback
>[] Call the band up to the stage
time for a live show, let's show this angel how it's done

>>35208092
>>[] Call the band up to the stage

at least we tried to give the fish a snack

>>35208092
Of course, we're fighting Sephiroth.

>>35208092
No need to be high, no need for cocaine, just the Power of True Rock against the legions of Hell,

Our Band playing atop Babel's Tower, the Beats of the Drums, The sounds of the keyboard, the deep sound of the Bass, the Synth playing a thousand different notes, all backing the sound of a shredding Guitar Solo.

This is it. No need for anything fancy nor need to try too hard to be Metal.
Because this entire situation is the Definition of metal. Every moment could be on the cover of an album, every second puts the greatest and most expensive video clips to shame.

Now its us against Hell, and we'll show them the magnificence of a band who loves Rocking for Rock's sake.

Come on, guys. Lets do this right.

>[] Call the band up to the stage

>>35208092

"Lady and gentlemen of the band!" you yell out, your voice resonating against the domed marble sky, "please take your places on the stage!" Everyone looks up at you, then the dragon turns from its victims and starts scaling the tower.

The bassist kneecaps the giant demon in front of him, then kicks it off the tower. The band gathers together, waiting for the dragon to arrive.

Once it does, they clamber aboard its broad back, and the dragon starts climbing the tower with prodigious speed, metal jaw clamped in concentration. You turn away from the edge, and walk back toward the pyramid and the guitar hookup.

Then you see the angel's wing. While you didn't manage to feed the whole thing to the dragon, the wing would probably be a nice, healthy snack for it.

>[] Grab the wing, feed it to the dragon
>[] Cocaine

>Band up to the stage
The demon hordes are already giving us a backing vocal track.
Let's go.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8nItx9Rkyc8

>Dust wing in cocaine. Feed to fish.

>>35208464
>>[] Grab the wing, feed it to the dragon

>>35208464
>>[x] Grab the wing, feed it to the dragon
>>[x] Cocaine

>>35208464
>[] Grab the wing, feed it to the dragon
tastes like chicken

>>35208464
>[] Grab the wing, feed it to the dragon

>>35208464
>>[] Grab the wing, feed it to the dragon
>>[] Cocaine
All of the above, and while you're at it, inject some cocaine into the wing before feeding the fish, for good measure

>>35208464
>[X] Grab the wing, feed to dragon

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JFYVcz7h3o0

Suitable music, I think

>>35208464

>>35208533
>>35208497

Fuck it, all of the above.
While on fire.

>>35208464
>I'M AN ACCOUNTANT, AND I DO COCAINE, BABY

Also this: >>35208533

No more cocaine. The star that burns twice as bright burns half as long.

It's time for teamwork to save the day.

>>35208464

>>35208598
^this. the star that burns twice as bright burns twice as bright.

>>35208628
This is one of those situations I think that not burning as bright as we can, means we won't burn at all soon.

Also, its still teamwork, just cocaine fueled teamwork.

>>35208628
Maybe if we gave EVERYONE some cocaine...

>>35208628
>>35208742


My thoughts on the matter should be clear:
>>35208275

>>35208628
haha, time for 27 club

>>35208628
This. We shouldn't need coke to rock.

>>35208464
(1/?)

As you pick up the wing, you take a closer look at what you'd thought was a thin torch atop the pyramid, and realize that it's the flaming neck of a guitar, its body resting somewhere inside the pyramid itself. You look down at your guitar, scorched and soaked in blood, most of it your own, and you wonder if the flaming one would be any better.

Well, you can leave that decision for later, after you've whipped up some Cocaine Fried Chicken.

You get out the bottle and the needles, and you pump several needles full of the stuff into the angel's torn off wing. You have no idea what the effective dose it for a dragon, but you bet it's big. And that's not even factoring in what being a metaphysical beast means for its substance absorption.

By the time you're done, the dragon is pushing its head over the lip of the half-built stage, and the band members are climbing off.

The bassist heads straight for a mike stand, adjusts it, and stands his octobasse up behind it, pulling a long horsehair bow from somewhere. Then he starts tuning his titanic instrument.

"Glad to have you performing with us," you say to him, but all you get is a grunt, and a dark stare in the angel's direction.

>>35208464
(2/?)

The nurse looks dazed as he drop the ruined keyboard and wanders aimlessly across the stage. "You've been doing great," you tell him, slapping him on the shoulder - your side twinges at that, "keep up the good work." He flashes you a quick grin, then looks past you, and runs across the stage to grab... ...Angus Young's battered guitar.

Well, you certainly kept your promise there, you think as he tunes it, checking the dials and the hookup.

You turn back around to see the priest staring at the pyramid. "Know what this is?" he asks you.

"No," you say, with all the sarcasm you can muster, "I'm an accountant, not a scissor-swinging international secret agent inquisitorial badass monster hunter with a heart made of magic." You hope it stings a bit.

"And here I thought you were a rocker," he says, smiling widely at you, "it's a device to pierce the heavens, powered by rock and roll. It could turn this place into a permanent Hellgate, or stab straight up through the sky and create a hole connecting Hell, Earth, and Heaven in one shot."

Well damn.

"We'll figure out what to do with it once we rock his socks off," you say, swinging your guitar at the regenerating fallen angel, "I'm counting on you."

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>>35209198
Fuck yes

LETS GO
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X8K2arFe6-c

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZcpGIVbPYrI

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>>35209198
You look around for the DJ, and see her in the middle of a nest of cables and important looking boxes, plugging things together and adjusting dials. You wonder if it's just your imagination, or if she's actually grown during her time in this Hellscape - she's certainly taller compared to the speakers standing up by her sides. There's a shiny, expensive-looking electronic keyboard on an X-stand in front of her, but the device she was assembling earlier is sitting right next to it, atop a speaker.

"I've got a present for you," you say, holding up the angel wing, then letting it hang down again as your injured chest protests. She stares at you for a second, with those glowing red pinpoints in her pupils, pushing the sweat-matted hair out of her eyes, then realizes exactly what you've said.

"Thanks," she says, smiling, showing off those two rows of sharp teeth, and you hear the dragon's jaw clank in back of you, opening wide for the treat.

You turn and toss the angel's wing into the dragon's waiting maw. Ow... That hurt a lot more than you thought it would. The dragon happily gobbles it back and licks it lips.

"That's the best dinner anyone's ever taken me out to," you hear from behind you, and you turn to see the DJ unfastening a couple of buttons on her shirt, "and I'm looking forward to the after dinner entertainment."

"So am I," you say, and then you desperately hope she's talking about the concert, "this is the biggest concert we've ever played, so let's give it our all."

"Of course," she says, fanning herself with one hand as she twists a dial with the other one. You see a tongue of white fire lick up her brown hair, and then the tower shakes.

A rush of wind blows your hair over. Your head whips around, and you see the dragon's newly grown wings flap, as it trails whiffs of white fire from its nostrils.

>[] Ride the dragon
>[] Lead the band from the stage
>[] Write-in

>>35209639
>>[] Lead the band from the stage
Now that we're back together, we shouldn't stray too far, besides, riding the dragon as it goes in for the kill is more of a Finale than an opener.

>>35209639
>>[] Lead the band from the stage

We Scott Pilgrim now.

>>35209639
>[] Ride the dragon

>>35209639
>>[] Lead the band from the stage

>Lead band from stage, Save dragon riding for finale. Power diving onto dragon mid chorus should be ample adrenaline booster

>>35209639
>[] Lead the band from the stage

KINGS OF METAL

>>35209639
>[] Lead the band from the stage
yeah, save the dragon riding for the big finale

>>35209639
Your side hurts too badly to try dragon-riding right now, so you walk toward the lead guitarist's hookup, admiring your band as the dragon takes off and circles the tower.

You almost trip over him - the tour manager, half-lying, half propped against a speaker, with an electric bass across his lap.

"Thanks for the drugs," you tell him, and you almost squat to get down on his level, but catch yourself just before the twinge, "I didn't know you played bass."

"I'm the manager," he says, looking at you with weary eyes, "I'll manage. Can't sit around while that damn priest is doing something useful."

You thank him, walk over the the lead guitarist's spot, in front of the pyramid, facing the angel, and plug your guitar into every speaker in the dome.

You take a final look at the band, making sure everyone's ready.

>[] Start it off yourself
>[] Drums start, everyone builds off it, and then you come in
>[] Pick someone to start (Write-in)

And you consider a strategy for the coming battle.

>[] Massive empowered lightning bolts
>[] Fire
>[] Back the dragon up with rock
>[] Cocaine
>[] Write-in

>>35210051
>[] Start it off yourself
we're the party face after all

>[] Fire
let's cook this angel for our dragon bro

>>35210051
>[] Drums start, everyone builds off it, and then you come in
>[] Fire

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nM__lPTWThU

>>35210051
>[] Drums start, everyone builds off it, and then you come in
>[] Massive empowered lightning bolts

>>35210051
>[] Drums start, everyone builds off it, and then you come in
and
>[] Fire

Lets open this properly, and see if we can't burn that angel to ashes

>>35210051
>[] Drums start, everyone builds off it, and then you come in

>[] Write-in
>Bring the rage of winter

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>>35210051
>I didn't know you played bass

Let us tell the story of a certain band. A band which, more than any other band, was set aflame by its music and driven to despair by it.

Their lead singer was a beautiful white-haired woman. Their guitarist, a handsome young lady who played a blue-and-gold guitar and wore a black suit. Their drummer was an Asian woman, with eerily precise rhythm.

And a scruffy-looking man in a black coat played the bass, because he was in love with the singer.

This is their story.

>[x] Quiet strum and lyric. An intro.
> Synth link up to the drum line and true first verse
> Back up the dragon. Let its roar become a growl backing up our lyrics. Its fiery breath our pyrotechnic show.

This fight is ending with us force feeding flaming cocaine to the fallen angel and purifying him with our gods of nose snow and rock

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>>35210173
This is now as canon as that bit it the other thread:

>He was found by a wandering orchestra.

>When he was a baby, they made him play the violin. When he was a boy, they made him play the Cello. When he was a young man, they made him play the double bass.

>Now he roams the world, betrayed by his bandmates, the Black Bassist, hunted by demons, with an octobasse on his back.

Thank you, anonymous writefags.

>>35210243
I like the sound of this.

>>35210266
>It was too big, too long, with strings too thick to be called a bass

Whatever happens here tonight g/ents, it's been a pleasure rocking with you
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G90ngH2anxQ

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>>35210051
>[] Drums start, everyone builds off it, and then you come in

>[] Back the dragon up with rock

Whatever happens, it will fucking awesome.

>>35210051
(1/2)

"Kick it off, priest," you yell over the demons' Latin chanting.

He does, setting up a hard-driving beat on the drums. After a few measures, you hear the DJ's synth jump in, and the bassists hit it a couple of measures after that. Heh. All these crazy people you've collected can play off each other, despite all their differences. It gives you the warm fuzzies.

But it's a strange feeling, hearing the band play without you.

While it's a great foundation, it feels empty without you laying down the edifice of rocking chords atop it.

You launch in, the nurse following, improvising rhythm around your big, leading chords.

It's the song of a journey, travel across highways, along deserts, the pleasures and trials of the roads, the chance companions met and bypassed. The spreading, sustained chords span the polished, bowl-shaped heavens, screaming against their confinement.

Flames erupt from the grinning demon skull mounted in your guitar, and wrap themselves around the instrument. You raise it, point it at the angel, and let a bolt of pure flame fly at the fallen being, streaming across the sky, tainting the world a harsh red. Damn, but your side hurts.

You see it hit a white wing, and the feathers catch, falling in a burning rain toward the desert.

>>35210877
(2/2)

You bridge into the chorus, a chorus about the long view, about taking things as they come, about life not being that bad after all's said and done, and then something happens the your fucking bass section, they go gaddamn nuts, that's the fucking angriest bass you've ever heard.

You have to stop playing, letting them take over the lead and get it out of their system (you hope) in a blistering duet riding a violent, distorted beat, the sharp jabs of the bow across the octobasse feeding into the white-knuckled fury of the manager's frantic clawing at his instrument.

They finally crescendo, bringing their solo to a screaming close in a musical battle between the priest and the manager, each trying to outdo the other, and finally collapsing back into something like the original rhythm.

You take the lead again, on a different topic this time.

>What do you sing about?
>Do you use the cocaine?
>Do you take the flaming guitar from the pyramid?

>>35210896
>>What do you sing about?

They can't kill The Metal.

The Metal will live on.

>>35210896
>>What do you sing about?
Bring it back around to what started this, a tribute to the great rockers who taught you, and how you're going to bring back rock and prove its not dying, its better than ever!

Pick up the Flaming guitar as you sing about its owner, but return to your own

No cocaine needed

>>35210896
>What do you sing about?
sing abut conquering the world in the name of rock while riding giant beasts
>Do you use the cocaine?
no cocaine
>Do you take the flaming guitar from the pyramid?
nah

>>35210896
>Do you use the cocaine?

C-c-c-no way baby!

>We sing about Rock. Of the people of Rock who came before us and those who have yet to come and the power of rock that will persist through all time. Heaven or Hell? Let there be rock in both.
Rock isn't a thing we just shout up for a gag. Rock is an anthem that changes with the winds and times. Rock is a raging beast within us all like this serpent above and these demons below. Rock is the cries of millions for justice and the jab back at the system that does not grant it. ROCK is our sermon, hymn and god and we have come to PREACH.

> We do not do cocaine. It was fuel to find ourselves, and ourselves is more than enough fuel to get where we need to go

>>35210896
>>What do you sing about?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fKhTk0IynHM

>>35210896
>What do you sing about?
>>35211038
>Cocaine?
We ain't pussies. We're men, and we got a band. Let's rock 'em old school!
>Flaming Guitar?
Not yet. Save it for the grand finale.

> We do not need the guitar. Our guitar is plenty. Not because it is a good guitar or a bad guitar, but because it is OUR guitar forged not of our hands but of our efforts to get us this far.
This guitar is our weapon and soul, we don't need two souls

>>35210896
>What do you sing about?
Your journey and standing on the shoulders of the gods of rock

>Do you use the cocaine?
No

>>Do you take the flaming guitar from the pyramid?

Hold it up at the climax of our music, but only play on our guitar

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78 KB JPG

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hHRNSeuvzlM

Old rockers never die. Through their songs, they live on in eternal glory.

It's not exactly Metal, it's still Rock.
Fuck you I just wanted an excuse to post Queen

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uKLMYZlbIb8

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>>35210896
Simple chords this time, sparks flying from your fingers, building a charge in your guitar, the air abuzz with electricity.

It's the story of rock, the genre born from zapping the shamblers of old gospel and jazz with the current of the new electric instruments, the anthem of change. You sing of the greats, of those who gifted you your power, those who now only live on in their music, you salute those about to rock, and you swear to clip your jumper cables to the genre's nipples yourself.

Your voice, your riffs, the entire band's sound blasts out from thousands upon thousands of speakers, echoing off the hard, domed sky, making the very sand quake and tremble. You are atop a tower of sound, every speaker throbbing with your music, with your tribute to rock and roll.

Everything builds to a heady climax, your guitar buzzing with power, little sparks raising themselves like hairs from it, as you raise it over your head, trying to ignore the twinge in your side, and send a massive bolt of lightning streaking toward the rogue angel. The pain upsets your aim, and the shot flies wide.

It nicks a wingtip, scattering into a multitude of small sparks, each buzzing off by itself, sputtering out in the dusty air.

You shout about the undying nature of rock, your chest burning, and then the angel shouts back:

"ROCK WILL NEVER DIE, FOR I AM ROCK!"

You see its wings twisting and churning, feathers sliding over each other, revealing strings, pickups, fuck, every wing of the angel is an electric guitar, and you can see lightning running down their strings like rainwater. The angel folds its wings inward, until the feathers of each wing rest on the strings of the next wing's guitar.

Beautiful, horrifying, and utterly inhuman, you think.

EYESEYESEYESEYESEYESEYES

EYES ALL OVER THE WINGS, THE GUITARS, ITS FACE, ALL OPENING AT ONCE. EYESEYESEYESEYESEYESEYES

EYESEYESEYESEYESEYESEYES

[-10 SAN]

>[] Brace yourself for the angel's sextuple solo
>[] Cocaine
>[] Write-in

>>35211598
>>[] Write-in

Time to cheat! Interrupt that fucker! Dragon attack!

>>35211598
couldn't get last option in the field because character limit.

>[] Attempt to out-rock the angel (roll 1d100)

Rolled 34 (1d100)

>>35211649

Ignore my >>35211643. Do this instead.

Rolled 57 (1d100)

>>35211649
>[] Attempt to out-rock the angel (roll 1d100)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1oDXRo78rtY

Rolled 46 (1d100)

>>35211649
Can't resist rolling.

>>35211598

This: >>35211643

He might have taken his vote back, bu tit sounds good to me.

>>35211696
You should try resisting more often.

Rolled 69 (1d100)

>>35211649
>[] Attempt to out-rock the angel (roll 1d100)

He's alone, we got a band.

We came together once before to out-rock someone, we can do it again.

>>35211814
>he's alone
>he's playing six guitars at once, which are all him

>>35211598
You can't look at him, you shut your eyes. Everything except the octobasse and the drums falters, then picks back up, a shadow of its former self. You chest hurts horribly.

But you're the king of rock, you'll bring it back, you slam your hand over the strings, playing chord after chord, trying to collect yourself. You've got every speaker in this little world, after all.

Then you hear it, they plinking of a clean guitar. Then an electric bass.

Then you can't hear your own playing, you can't hear yourself think, you only know you're breathing because the wounds in your chest throb every time you take a breath.

The angel is playing solo, backups, rhythm, fuck it, everything all at once. Your head throbs and your side aches.

But you're going to bring rock back, and no matter what he says, this angel isn't rock.

You are.

So you play frantically, although you can't hear your band, can't hear your instrument, can't open your eyes to face the thing in front of you, can only try to pick through a melody by touch.

You flail at your guitar, trying everything, turning the dials to twelve, getting ever more desperate in the face of the omnipresent wall of sound. You feel a sharp pain in your chest - is it your stitches ripping out?

Then you start to wonder other things. Are the demons sneaking up on you while you're blind and deaf here on the stage? Is there, even now, one of them standing in front of you, about to eviscerate you with its long, sharp limb, thrusting it deep into your belly?

You let go. Your guitar falls from your hands, banging uselessly against your thighs. The angel's sound is crushing you. this is a True Form beyond true forms.

All you have to do is stare into its eyes, and it will all be over. You won't care any more. you'll be done. And it won't hurt at all.

>[] Open your eyes
>[] Cocaine
>[] Write-in

Rolled 40 (1d100)

>>35212090
>[] Write-in
Is the dragon freaking out too? If not, sneak attack him with a fucking dragon.

If the Dragon is out too, then

>[] Cocaine

We got one last shot. Make it fucking count.

Go and get the flaming guitar.

>>35212303
>cocaine

>>35212090
Cocaine it is then.

>>35212090
>>35210153
You fall to your knees, scrabbling in the pocket of the coat, the wounds in your chest a stabbing, sharp pain, undulled by anything. Your ears are useless, overwhelmed by the pounding waves of sound from the angel's six guitars, which are also part of it, which - no, that way lies madness. Even when 44 sang for you, what you saw was nothing like an angel's horrifying true form.

You find the bottle and the needles easily enough, and go through the motions, aiming at a vein by touch and guesswork as the angel's sound bends the world over its desk and goes to town.

You have no idea how much is left in the bottle, but you shoot two full needles before you stop - it seems that using it to fuel your powers consumes it, so you're not in danger of overdosing.

You can't keep track of time, but gradually everything seems a lot better, and either your chest has stopped hurting, or you've stopped caring.

You feel the warmth of white fire rippling from your hair again, and stand back up, eyes still firmly shut.

Then you rock.

>>35212705
>>35210153
You do it by feel, slashing your hand across the strings for one chord, then another, palying harder, playing (you hope) louder. Playing chords you've never played before.

And then the world seems cold, and the wind bites through the bandages on your chest. You can feel your sweat turning to ice on the guitar, and, best of all, you can hear your riff again.

The angel's sound dulls, slows, and distorts. He's missing notes, but you still don't dare open your eyes.

You're the blind harpist of Egyptian parties, rocking in front of a pyramid, the reminder that even hearty revelers will bite the dust someday. The rockers will rise and end their system. You sing of rock's inevitable triumph, of the drugs that always have and always will fuel it, of the beast within all, set free by music.

That's when the synth joins you, the icy single notes of a piano stabbing out into the blind darkness, harmonizing as you scream about a dragon sleeping inside a shy girl, of demons eaten by the thousands, of battles in the hot sands, of the music that shakes and wakes the inner fire.

Then you hear the octobasse, the drums, the bass, and finally the rhythm guitar wake from their daze.

You open your eyes and are instantly dazzled.

The stage is covered in sheet ice, reflecting and refracting the white fire erupting from your head, and snow is blowing everywhere, gusts of wind swirling it under the dome like a snowglobe. The red dunes are turning white, and, glory of glories, the angel, caught off-guard, is encased in ice.

The DJ's dragon soars over your head.

>[] RIDE DRAGON, SHATTER ANGEL
>[] FLY ON WINGS OF WHITE FIRE, DESTROY HIM YOURSELF
>[] SEIZE THE FLAMING GUITAR
>[] BADASS WRITE-IN

>>35212721
>RIDE DRAGON, SHATTER ANGEL
WE DON'T NEED NO FLAME GUITAR. ALSO MORE SHOUTING.

>>35212721
>ONE-LINERS FOR THE ANGEL TO TAKE TO HELL WITH HIM

>>35212721
>>[] RIDE DRAGON, SHATTER ANGEL
MORE CAPSLOCK

>>35212721
"DRAGON!" you yell, posing with your right hand pointing at the sky, legs spread, hammering out the riff with your left.

The great beast wheels back and circles around the stage, its back a few feet below the lip. You take a running jump, and land on the dragon's broad back, playing the whole time.

Lesser men might have layed on the dragon, or ridden it like a horse. You ride it like a skateboard, feet planted, fully erect.

The dragon does another circuit around the stage while you yell about the endless fimblevinter, the great day of ragnarok, when gods will be cast down, and overturning of frozen old orders.

The pyramid has twisted, elongated, becoming a gigantic drillbit, its shining tip formed by the still-flaming guitar's neck.

You see the manager, playing from his own personal snowdrift, the bassist, solid ice anchoring his octobasse, the priest, sweat droplets from his whipping mullet freezing before they hit the ground, the nurse, one foot on a speaker, posing for all he's worth as the snow beats against his bare chest, and the DJ, giving you the horns with one hand as she plays with the other.

It puts a smile on your face, a savage grin you turn on the frozen angel, no longer an object of terror.

"LET'S GO!" you scream, both hands on the guitar, shredding like you've never shredded before, tearing entirely new sounds from your guitar.

The dragon shoots across the sky, dead-on for the angel. You wind up for the stroke, sparks, flames, and shards of ice flying from your guitar as you hammer out the final measure of the song.

You leap from the dragon, sail through the air, and cleave through the angel's core, shattering it into frozen chunks.

You tumble through the air, flipping forward, then land on the dragon's back as the angel's frozen wings crash to the ground behind you, every speaker in the dome resonating with your victory.

>[] DESTROY THE TOWER
>[] OPEN A GATE BETWEEN HELL AND EARTH
>[] PIERCE THE HEAVENS
>[] BADASS WRITE-IN

>>35212932
DESTROY THE TOWER.
THEN FREE SOULS BY YOUR ROCK!!!

>>35212932
>PIERCE THE HEAVENS

Complete the path connecting Heaven, Hell, and Earth.

>>35212932
How did it end, this rock and roll?

Did anyone hear, does anyone know?

Did he pierce the heavens, turn the cold war hot?

Did he smash the tower, was it all for nought?

Did Heaven and Hell on Earth do battle?

Or was it all wrote off as drunkard's prattle?


Did the accountant ascend the tower, spin up the drill, and pierce a hole from Hell to Heaven, ushering in an age of magical and musical strife on earth, as the two celestial sides strove for supremacy? Was there a legendary nameless band, who roamed the wastelands of earth, spreading the gospel of rock and roll?

Or did he fly the dragon into the tower, annihilating it, preventing Hell's invasion of earth, but restoring the status quo? Did he choose the future where they carry on their cold war covertly, pawns in the great game between Hell and Heaven? Was the Nameless Band merely another band, but better, and battling demons in the shadows?

Who knows.

All I know is the story's done, the battle's over, the war is won.

Whatever future th' accountant chose,

It's nothing any of us knows.

And I must off the bed

Where I shall sleep, like the dead.

>>35213170

ROCK QUEST - CLEAR

FINAL STATS:

ROCK OFFS WON/CHALLENGED: 2/3
AFTERLIFE EXPERIENCES: 1/???
DEMON SCHLONGS SEEN: 54/???
ANGEL NUTS CRACKED: 2/???
ELEMENTS UNLOCKED: 3/2 [Fire, Lightning, and Ice]
ALIGNMENT: TRUE ROCK - "Rock is worth doing."


It's been great running for you all. I hope you've enjoyed it too.

I've learned a lot while running my first quest - thank you for bearing with me.

I'll eventually see (and hopefully answer) any questions or comments you leave here or post at my twitter: https://twitter.com/HaikuDeluge

I'll announce any other quest-related things I do there.

And here's the archive, if you're late to the party: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Rock+Quest

Is it over? Will be there a part 2?

>>35213207
Shit, can't believe I missed the end.
And what a glorious end it was, Brother.

I could /just/ hear the song our band played, right at the edges of my hearing.
If this was really your first time running a quest, then you're doing great. You just need keep focusing on the awesome and the fun parts of questing and all will be well.

Thanks for Everything, Haiku. It was a Wild, Amazing and above all else, a Fun ride.
Keep on Rocking, Brotha'

>>35213207
Just caught up. wtf did I just read.

>>35215521
The most Metal quest ever, obviously.
I couldn't stop grinning all the way to the end, shit was Crazy Awesome

>>35215598
It's been a good run.
I really wanted to see The Accountant's family react to his new profession

I'm back!

>>35213207

ROCK OFFS WON/CHALLENGED: 3/4

I was way too tired last night.


>>35213256
It's over, and there won't be a part two in the foreseeable future. I think I got most of what I could out of the concept, and prolonging this story would just retread ground that's already been covered.

>>35215510
Glad you enjoyed it!

It was my first time, but I've been reading quests and taking notes on what seems to work for a while now. Managed to watch a lot of other QMs' newbie mistakes and learn from them.

>>35215521
You just read Rock Quest.

>>35215598
Great!

>>35215727
Now that you mention it, I kind of want to see that too.

>>35215796
>Now that you mention it, I kind of want to see that too.
omakes/bonuses are always nice, you know

>>35215796
Thanks for running, OP.

>>35215818
I sure would like an afterstory for the DJ.

>>35215818
>>35215839

I like the open ending, so I probably won't be doing any after stories.

But there's nothing stopping you guys - pick an ending and go for it.

>>35215796
I wish I could write well.

I have this Idea in my head where the Demons came back for round 2 and opened the portal linking Hell, Heaven and Earth. This results in an apocalyptic future where the power of Rock has been perverted and used as a weapon by all sides of the resulting war.

The world is then warped by the Rockin' Energies until it looks like a mix of Bastard!! and Brütal Legend.

Meanwhile our Band kept fighting, but couldn't defeat both Hell (who were too numerous) and Heaven (who decided that if the Band couldn't do the job, then they would) by themselves.

They ended up becoming Saints to the few souls who still believe in True Rock, and after the Accountant (Now the Man of The Guitar) died, they broke up.

(1/2)

>>35216138
The Bassist and the Manager kept fighting by themselves, roaming the Post-Apocalypse land killing demons and dispensing justice until their death.

The Priest and the DJ just disappeared, but there are rumors of a flying city held aloft by the Beat of Drums and protected by a great Dragon, where humans, angels and demons can live together in peace (and those who cause trouble are fed to the fish).

And the Nurse became the apostle of Rock spreading the Word and the Song, eventually founding a small village where he teaches Rock to the new generation.

That's the setting.
What I really wanted to write (and hell, I might actually try. Might) is the Nurse, now old and weakened, telling a prophecy to the accountant's Grandson, of a prodigy of Rock who would inherit the powers of The Man of the Guitar, recover tbe Relics of the Band and close the Gates, bringing Peace and True Rock back to the World.

>>35216138
>>35216268
>>35215990

...And now you have the setting for Part 2: Rocking Tendency.

>>35216138
>>35216268
Sounds like a good setting for an RPG

>>35216331
Agreed. Anyone up for some Brainstorming on How taking some shots of an cocaine solution affects your character's Skill scores?

>>35216364
Bonuses to con, dex and perception
Penalties to insight and an increasing chance of permanent damage to wis and int after repeated use

>>35216331
I was actually designing my own Metal Fantasy setting. Anyone here interested in hearing about it?

>>35216482
Sure. I always love reading about settings and rulesets.

>>35216364
>>35216451
maybe also delaying damage while in use

>>35216500
The narration said using the cocaine to fuel the power of Rock burned it before it caused permanent damage.

Maybe the bonuses can incrase exponentialy the more units of the item you use, but the harder you have to rock and the greater the chances it causes lasting damage?

>>35216500
I would say it should also negate any pain-caused penalties you're currently taking. It doesn't really make things hurt less, it just make you not care that they hurt.

>>35216559
You'd have to take at least one level in 'White Fire', or be inside a heavily rock-affected area.

Your Overdose threshold is raised by your level in 'White Fire', and you can burn units of the drug for effects as you inject it, before you have to roll for OD, up to your level of 'White Fire'. (So it you had one level in White Fire, you could burn off a unit of cocaine for the flaming hair effect, and only have X-1 units in your system when you roll for OD, where X is the number of units you took originally)

At least, that's how I'd do it.

>>35216500
Well, the world of the setting was originally just a gigantic ocean known as the Midnight Sea. Then from the Sea's depths came the Old Gods, and they brought with them metal. Using metal, they made land come out of the sea. Their basslines shook the seabed, and summoned forth Earth from the depths. Their voices screamed, and so was born the Wind. The power and fury with which they played their guitars caused them to become Fire, which they placed within the hearts of all living things, and then animated those hearts with the drums of life, creating beasts and men upon the Earth. But then some of the gods wanted to exploit their creation. Rather than giving metal to all beings to enjoy, they would enslave the mortals and keep the power of metal to themselves.These gods were cast out beyond creation, where they were hideously warped by the Powers Beyond and became demons. All was well, for a time, as the Old Gods taught their children more of the secrets of metal, allowing them to develop tools and technology. But eventually the Demons returned and fought against the old gods and their children, in the Cataclysm War. Almost all of the Old Gods and their kin, the Giants, were killed. The rest were forced to retreat from the world, after separating the world's continent into different islands and destroying half of it to banish the demons, and even then being unable to prevent their taint from remaining. In their place, some of the Old Gods' children formed Soul Pacts, so after their deaths their divine essence would bind them together as gestalt consciousnesses. They took steps to ensure that humans would worship them throughout time, and became the New Gods. They were unaware, however, that every soul that worshipped them would join their consciousnesses and eventually drive them mad. (Cont.)

>>35216703
So now you have a world in which demons still walk around and rock is dying out. The New Gods' worshippers are deluded enough to think worshipping the Old Gods is heresy, the New Gods are maddened by an excess of souls, and the technology of the Old Gods - electric guitars, motorbikes, guns, amplifiers - is rarely found in most civilized cities. But there is still hope. Outside of the major cities, bastions of rock exist within the wilderness, where adventurers, mercenaries and heretics gather together to form mighty bands and rock the world. This is what the players have to do. Other world info:
>Gods
The Old Gods were numberless, and their names are unremembered. They were more of a precursor species than a pantheon. The New Gods, however, are far more individual entities.
>Yesu, AKA the Lamb, the Bleeding God, the White King, He of Many Eyes
That's right, we're making an obvious analogy for Christianity. Yesu was originally a great hero in the Cataclysm War, enduring all the tortures of the demons, and then becoming a god with the intent to stop others suffering as he had. Over time, this intent warped, as all he knew was the suffering he had known in life and the infinite voices of worshippers who had been promised paradise and had found madness inside his head. As such, he now commands his followers to take vengeance upon supposed sinners and demon worshippers for the torture he suffers, and for how he knows they'll suffer in death. In visions, he appears as a man, or sometimes a lamb, covered in eyes, with bleeding wounds on his hands and a crown of barbed wire and thorns and fire in his eyes. His followers are fond of flagellation, as well as torture. Oh, and fire. They like fire.
(Cont.)

>>35216864
>Corven, the Raven King, the Unworshipped, the Night God, the Atoner
Corven became a god as atonement for some sin he had committed in life. Few know what it was, and fewer still worshipped him across the years. Perhaps it's that fact that means he retains his sanity. That or the fact that he frequently detaches souls from his own form. Either way, he's the most lucid of the New Gods, and one of the only ones who remembers that he isn't really a god. His followers are encouraged to commit as many heresies as they like without harming innocents, and are supposed to proclaim the falsehood of the New Gods and support the Old Gods. They especially hate Yesu's followers - he was Corven's brother in life, though most worshippers don't know that.

>>35216951
(Those are all the New Gods I've thought of so far, but more will be added later. Probably.)
As far as class concepts go for if I make this an actual system, I'm thinking of having Musician Classes and Adventurer Classes as separate things. For example, at character generation you would first decide whether your character is a Singer, Bassist, Guitarist etc. You would then decide your main class. Classes in the game are as follows:
>Warrior - Fighter combined with Rogue for bonus Skill Monkey-ing
>Slayer - Ranger-Rogue-Barbarian-ish class focused on killing things fast as well as being sneaky, but also fragile and not good at social situations
>Heretic - Cleric/Party face, one of the more sane worshippers of the New Gods who recognises the Old Gods as being pretty good too
>Sorcerer - Caster, pretty damn smart and can select two spell schools they can cast from at chargen, but squishy
>Savage - Full-on barbarian, can do fun stuff like intimidating your allies into fighting harder and eating enemies to regain health
>Bandit - Rogue/Ranger, who also starts with a free motorbike and specializes in mounted combat
Meanwhile, I'm thinking that music would be mostly combat based - after all, you're hardly going to get out your drums and start playing them in the middle of a conversation. Perform checks can be made, of course, but actual musical spells are largely used in combat. As far as I'm concerned so far, Guitar is for versatile combatants, Voice is for AoE effects, Drums are for improving your stats and healing you, Bass is for close-range damage and Synth (if it becomes a thing) is for long-range damage.

>>35216951
>Corven
Maybe you could change the name to a reference to Memetic Ozzy Osbourne, He who can do enough drugs to OD an Elephant and feel only a light buzz?

Or maybe some other Rock Star?
I'd give mpre ideas, but I don't have that many levels in the Lore of Heavy Metal.

>Barninorn Everlasting
That's a good name for a band, Captcha.

>>35217212
I was intending to make Ozzy his High Priest. Who also rides around on a demonic flying steam train with a minigun that he magically bound to him.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pVThw0EE_Jo

>>35217210
Make an Expy of Kiss. He can be the god of masks and secrets.

Maybe make the Bass be the ranged one while the synth does debuffing?

>>35217250
>All this

10/10 would play the shit out of.

Make a thread for this right the fuck now.
We need to flesh this out and make those rules, because I didn't know how much I wanted to play this until you wrote this.

>>35217264
>Make an Expy of Kiss. He can be the god of masks and secrets.
Possibly. Also, Savages often have Kiss stage makeup made out of the ashes and powdered bones of their enemies. Gives a +5 to intimidate.
>Maybe make the Bass be the ranged one while the synth does debuffing?
That's also a possibility. Still, then we might have to rework the backstory to weave in Synth as a thing the Old Gods did.
>>35217250
Also, forgot to mention: Ozzy typically doesn't lead Corven's followers in battle himself. Mainly because he's busy riding his train through Hell, killing all the demons he sees. It's supposedly possible to summon him, though.
>>35217314
>>35217365