>>325825
throwing knives and steel cable

>>325825
Glock and cable

>>325825
>>set of five throwing knives
>>five feet of tungsten steel cable, wound into a spool
Can't be a maid without some throwing knives. There's a law against it or something.

>>325825
>>one 9mm Glock 19 with built-in suppressor, three 17-round magazines
>>five feet of tungsten steel cable, wound into a spool

>>325825
>>one 9mm Glock 19 with built-in suppressor, three 17-round magazines

>>325825
the glock and the steel cable

Knives and cable

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The woman picked up her pistol, pulling back the slide to ensure it was clear. After checking the weapon she locked the first magazine into the pistol. Putting the other two into the holster, she slid the pistol into the holster. Setting the entire assembly onto the bed, she lifted her skirt up to her hip, exposing her white legs. She picked up the holster, undoing the straps and pulling them around her upper thigh. Locking the straps into the holster, she pulled both till the holster was pressed firmly against her thigh. She let her skirt drop into its normal place and spun twice, ensuring the weapon didn't show through the skirt. She picked up a spool of fine wire with two handles and tucked it into her apron. Finished putting away her weapons, she headed out the door, pausing in the hallway of the third floor. Across the hall was the locked study; she'd never been inside of it, because the old guardian kept the only key on his person. Walking down the hall, she passed the old man's room and the Archives. The door of the old guardian's room was open. The old man was doing his patrol of the mansion. She passed the Cook's and Gardener's rooms. The day had progressed enough that both were doing their jobs within the mansion. She headed down the staircase to the second floor, before slipping through the small door connecting the 3rd floor to the second. She double-checked the cleaning closet to ensure it was stocked and the supplies hadn't been messed with since the day prior. Seeing nothing had been tampered with, she exited the closet with renewed fervor. Pushing through the side door into the entertainment room, she decided what to deal with first.

>Wake the young master
>Ensure breakfast was being made
>Start cleaning the second floor

>>325939
Wake the young master

>>325939
>Ensure breakfast was being made

>>325939
>Wake the young master

If this quest is going for lewd, wake him up with a "Wake up, Maaaasteeerrrrr...". If not, go for a silver bell on a platter.

>>325939
Clean the floor

>>325939
>>Wake the young master

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>Wake the young master

The maid walked through the entertainment room, checking for dust along the way. Exiting the room through the far entrance, she stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the main entryway and the grand staircase. Crossing over the stairs, she noted the faint scent of eggs and bacon in the air. The Cook was keeping with the schedule. Ascending the short stairs to the other side, she approached the large door leading to the young Master's room. Knocking twice firmly, she spoke loudly.
“Young Master, are you awake?”
After receiving no response, she pushed open the door and entered the room. The lights were off inside, and the rising sun barely shone through the closed curtains. She could see the young master lying under his blankets in the center of his massive bed. She walked over to the edge of the bed, pushing her way up onto the blankets. Crawling softly across the sheets, she hovered over the young master, looking down at his young face and blonde locks. Smiling softly, the woman leaned down and pulled her ponytail behind her neck.
“It's time to wake up, Young Master.” She whispered softly into his ears. His eyes shot open and he panicked briefly, before realizing who it was hovering over him. A resentful blush covered his pale cheeks, as his blue eyes gazed up into hers.
“G-good morning, Elisabeth.” His trembling voice was like music to her ears. Was it due to embarrassment or rage? She couldn't tell. She slid off his bed, walking over to the curtains and pulling them open. The kid covered his eyes against the bright light as she continued moving.
“Mr. Reed has started cooking the breakfast meal. The tutor is coming by at 9A.M. on the dot for your lessons. We must have you ready to face your day properly, young master.” She stopped in front of his closet and opened the doors. His dirty laundry from the yesterday was in a pile on the ground. She pushed it to one side and pulled out a new set of clothes. She walked out as the young master was climbing from the bed. She walked across the room as he began undressing and set the clothes next to him on the nightstand. As he got dressed, she went to work fixing his bed. She finished the task and turned towards him as he finished buttoning his shirt.
“Elisabeth, I've told you to call me Alexander before.”
“Is that an order, young master? I'm sure the cook has finished the morning meal. Shall I take my leave?” The maid finished folding his discarded clothes and looked at the young boy, waiting for his response. He finally gave up and turned away, heading towards the door.
“Go ahead, Elisabeth. Finish your jobs.”

>Gather up the rest of the dirty laundry in the house
>start cleaning the second floor
>follow the young master to first floor

>>326197
>>Gather up the rest of the dirty laundry in the house

>>326197
>Gather up the rest of the dirty laundry in the house
Don't forget to steal Master Alexander's underwear... (Breathes deeply into a dirty shirt) ahhhh...

>>326197
Follow the young master

>>326197
>Gather up the rest of the dirty laundry in the house

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>Gather up the rest of the dirty laundry in the house

Elisabeth crossed back over the stairs with the dirty laundry in hand. She headed up to the 3rd floor and walked to end of the hallway. She tossed the young master's laundry into her empty hamper. She gathered up her laundry from yesterday, folding it and adding it to the hamper. Securing the laundry hamper, she headed to the old man's room. She knocked twice before speaking.
“Mr. Vermilion, may I enter?” She waited for a moment after speaking. When she received no response, she opened the door and entered the room.

Every time she went into the old man's room, it would shock her. The other members of the mansion had something to make their room personal. But the old guardian had nothing. His walls were bare, the closets were lined with rows of matching suits, and he had no pictures to speak of. His bed was immaculate. She noticed his clothes on the small table by the side of his bed. She walked over and secured it, before hurrying out of the strange room.

Next was the Cook's room. Mr. Reed was the messiest of the staff members when it came to his room. It was the location of the maid's only loss. She had tried to clean his room once, but it fell apart every time. Everything was piled around his rooms, from his clothes to his cookbooks. In the kitchen, he was an unparalleled professional who commanded the respect of everyone who entered his domain. Anywhere else he was a slob that wore a chef's outfit. His dirty laundry was crumpled and thrown into a corner next to some haphazardly stacked books. She secure the clothes before taking her leave of the nightmare room.

The Gardener's room was almost a greenhouse. All it lacked was a sunroof. There was more ground covered in pots and plants than not in the man's room. The Gardener rarely spoke to the other staff, instead tending to the plants within the mansion and the huge gardens outside. His laundry, dirty coveralls, was tucked into the branches of a potted brier next to the door. She pulled it free, making sure not to cut herself on any of the thorns.

The Cook wouldn't bring the laundry from the kitchen till the end of the day, so the maid took what laundry she had into the laundry room on the first floor. After sorting the clothes out by color, she started the clothes washing. She finished cleaning the small laundry room before checking the time. It was 9:30 A.M. The young master was well into his lessons. The old man locked himself in his study around this time. She walked into the entryway, broom in hand, to clean. She could hear the cook slaving away in the kitchen, pots hissing and the sound of running water. She prepared to stop, when a loud knock stopped her hand. The Gardener wouldn't come through the front door. This was something else.

>Roll 1d100, best of three

Rolled 4 (1d100)

>>326329

Rolled 33 (1d100)

>>326329

Rolled 6 (1d100)

>>326329

Rolled 7 (1d100)

>>326329

Rolled 88 (1d100)

>>326329
saving the day far too late

Ded Master

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>Rolled 33, missed initiative and failure to react

Elisabeth walked up to the door, setting the broom to one side. She opened the door slowly, smiling and speaking aloud.

“Greetings, sir, to the Vermilion Man-” Her words were cut off as she came face to face with the silencer. She reacted instantly, jerking her head to one side and wincing as a round nicked her cheek. Her hand flew out and smacked the gun to one side to disrupt his aim. She looked at the gunman, trying to figure out who or what he was. The gunman was an older man, of European descent. His wrinkled face shifted into a frown as his other hand came up, this one with a knife. She shifted her weight back, trying to keep her balance and maintain her grip on the pistol. The assassin's slash for her neck missed and went high. She tried to push forward and knock him off balance, but he was one step ahead of her. She felt his foot fall behind hers and slide forward, sending her falling back. He tried to shift his gun so he could shoot her, but she forced the gun all the way to the other side. The round penetrated the floor next to her chest. She freed one of her hands from the death grip on his pistol and stopped him from stabbing her with his knife. She was on her back, on the ground, with both of her hands full and the man on top of her. She tried to think of something, anything she could do to reverse this situation. Her weapons were unable to be reached and she was being forced down by the larger man.

>roll 1d100, best of three; hopefully this round is better

Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>326415

Rolled 38 (1d100)

>>326415
nat 1

Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>326415

>>326423
...

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>Rolled 95

Elisabeth struggled to hold the knife away from her body, as the man leaned forward and pushed his weight down onto her. A sudden, last-resort thought passed through her head. Breathing sharply through her nose, the maid coughed the mucus into her mouth. The assassin paused in his push, startled by this sudden motion. It was all she needed. The maid took that instant and hocked a loogie directly into the assassin's eye. His muscles relaxed as he reeled back in disgust and shock. She let go of the knife hand and punched him in the crotch with all of her strength. Before checking to see his reaction, she slid from under him, pushing herself up and sprinting over to a pillar. Diving behind it, she leaned back against it and tried to still her trembling muscles. She pulled her skirt up, pulling her Glock from it's holster. Charging the slide, she chambered the first round audibly. She could hear the assassin making his own move, opposite the hall. Doubtless he had already dived behind a pillar. She took a deep breath to calm her beating heart.

“I never expected such a well-dressed whore to use such a vulgar tactic. Color me impressed, bitch.” His harsh accent grated in the air. English was definitely his second language.

“Are you here to kill Alexander Vermilion?” She didn't bother with foul language. The utter hatred and disgust she felt for this assassin was carried in her tone alone. Her grip tightened around her pistol. She didn't know how many rounds the assassin had left, nor what his plan was. But his answer would decide her next course of action.

“Yes, you dumb cunt. I'm here to kill the fucking heir”

>>roll 1d100
>charge in
>use the pillar as cover and play the waiting game
>write-in

Rolled 97 (1d100)

>>326521

Rolled 14 (1d100)

>>326521
>>use the pillar as cover and play the waiting game

Rolled 61 (1d100)

>>326521
Toss one of our extra magazines at his face as a distraction, then shoot him in the head and be done with it.

Rolled 69 (1d100)

>>326521
no survivors

>>326530
Charge in

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When the words left the assassin's filthy lips, Elisabeth's heart froze. What she felt couldn't be called rage, sorrow, disgust. There was nothing there. She pushed away from the pillar and turned into the open, already lining up the iron sights on her weapon. A round slammed into the wall near her head, as the assassin began firing. She continued sprinting forward, hand dropping into her apron. His eyes dropped down, trying to see what she was reaching for. Her aim shifted to one side and she fired. A round struck the pillar next his head, sending splinters of rock into his face. The assassin staggered, clutching his face in shock. She had already covered over three-quarters of the distance. Before he could reopen his eyes, her pistol fired again and turned his knee into a bloody pulp. He collapsed on the floor, a pained sob spilling from his lips as his weapons slipped from his hands and went to his destroyed knee. Elisabeth stepped forward, firing her pistol and sending the knife spiraling across the floor from his side. She kicked the pistol away, as the assassin glared at her with blood pooling around his leg and running from the gashes in his face.

“Don't pity me, you fucking cunt.”

“Don't worry, you shit-speckled fuck. You'll have plenty of time to beg for my forgiveness this evening.” She slammed her pistol into his temple, sending him to the ground unconscious. She grabbed his arms and began dragging him towards the 'cleaning closet'.

>get answers immediately
>get rid of the evidence
>write-in

>>326605
rid the evidence

>>326605
Rid of evidence

>>326605
>>get rid of the evidence
We can get answers later.

>>326605
>get rid of the evidence

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Elisabeth pushed the bottle of pine detergent to one side, reaching further back into the cleaning closet. Pressing a hidden switch, a panel to the rear of the cleaning closet opened. She walked back there, pulling the assassin further in. Kneeling next to the panel, she pressed a certain combination of buttons. The entire panel shifted inwards, revealing a perfectly white room with only a few things within. In the center of the room was a chair with heavy belts attached to it. There was a surgery tool tray to one side, a massive toolbox pushed into one corner, and a drain in the center of the floor. She pulled the man into the room, leaving a red trail on the white marble. Reaching the chair, she pulled him up onto it and buckled the belts down firmly. Looking down at his bleeding leg made her realize he would bleed out before she finished cleaning up his mess. She walked over to the tool box, pulling out a long, black zip tie and two pairs of pliers. Walking over to his side, she smacked him in the face a couple of times to see if he was waking up. The maid only got a few groans in response. Sleeping? She lifted his leg, looping the black zip tie around his upper thigh. She threaded the smaller end through the lock and positioned the pliers for leverage. Yanking the zip tie with all of her strength, she felt his leg muscles shift twice and he groaned in pain. She checked to ensure the wound wasn't bleeding profusely. It had slowed to only a seeping wound; he would probably lose his leg in 6 hours, but that wasn't her problem. Leaving him groaning and slumped in the chair, she left the isolation room and reentered the cleaning closet. She locked the panel behind her, sealing him within. Time to clean.

She made two buckets of water. One had an ounce of cleaning detergent and was filled with cold water. The second had pine detergent and warm water, to help with the smell. She pulled a carrying bag from the shelf and filled it with wipes. She tucked a trash bag into her apron. Finally she reached onto the top shelf, pulling out plaster and paint. Time to rewind time. She started by mopping the cleaning room and rinsing her shoes. Then she moved into the hallway, first wiping the floor down with the cold water and rinsing the mop in the bucket of cold water. Then she wiped the wet floor with the cloths, to get the remainder of the blood off. She finished with a quick coating of the pine-detergent, to make the hall smell freshly cleaned. She entered the main hall, using the same process until she reached the pool of blood. Throwing water on the pool would just spread it and make it impossible to fully remove. She removed the bag from her apron and began using cloths to soak up the blood, immediately tossing them afterwards. She quickly reduced the pool to only a red surface sticking to the wooden floor. She then mopped it up.

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(Cont.) Now, to remove the holes. She started with the marble pillar, pulling out the plaster and filling the gash more than necessary. She started smoothing it down, making it level with the rest of the pillar. She let it start to dry as she attended to the other holes, filling them with plaster and leaving them to dry. When she had finished with the last hole on the far wall, she returned to the pillar. Pulling out the paints, she started her work. Meticulously, she painted the white plaster until it matched the same slate white of the marble pillar. She even matched the shine, using diluted gloss to make the perfect duplicate. She did the same with the floors. Once she'd finished this process, she retrieved both of the assassin's weapons and dropped them into the bloody water. She'd dispose of them eventually. As she looked around the room, one couldn't tell that a gunfight had occurred. In fact, the room was in better shape than it had been when she'd come to clean that morning. She took the buckets of water and disposed of them in the cleaning closet. She cleaned the mops and threw the trash in the incinerator in the garage. She secured the two weapons in the cleaning closet, hiding them inside a container of lye. Now, what to do next.

>get answers
>bandage cheek and check on the master
>write-in

>>326788

>bandage cheek and check on the master

Let him stew for a while.

>>326788
>bandage cheek and check on the master

>>326788
>>bandage cheek and check on the master
"Hmph. I'll show him to mess with my Master. I am the only one who can mess with Master."

(brings out old gym sock, inhales deeply)

>>326788
>>bandage cheek and check on the master

>>326788
>>bandage cheek and check on the master

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After properly ensuring the room was locked, the maid decided to check her cheek. She headed to the 3rd floor, passing the Archives. She walked into her room, shrugging off her bloodstained uniform. Elisabeth traced the bruises on her arms from her struggle. She checked her chest and stomach for any bruises. She found a bruise on her shoulders from where she'd slammed into the ground. Nothing major, but when the maid raised both her arms out to the side, she could feel the pain shooting through her muscles. So much for being unscathed. Ignoring the other tiny scrapes, she walked over to the mirror and began examining her cheek. She had been clipped by the bullet and the wound reflected that. It was a thin furrow through her skin. It had torn through her skin, leaving a solid gash. She frowned, realizing if she wanted to prevent this injury from leaving a scar, she would need to suture the gash. Pulling a bottle of rubbing alcohol from the cabinet, she poured some onto a hand towel and dabbed it against her wound. She hissed as the alcohol burned her wound. After dabbing more rubbing alcohol onto the gash, she walked over to her cabinet. She opened the top drawer and pulled out her small sewing case. She pulled out the smallest needle she had and took a deep breath, before pulling her stool close to the large mirror next to her closet. Leaning forward, she began the painful, drawn-out process of sewing the wound shut. After finishing the suture, she tied the string off and used the hand towel to wipe away the fresh blood. She walked over to her bathroom and finished applying a fresh bandage to the sewn wound. She left the bathroom, wearier than when she entered. Her door flew open, as the last person she wanted to see appeared.

“Elisabeth, the gardener said he noticed you on the second floor and you were bleeding! Are you okay!” Alexander shouted, looking across the room at Elisabeth. The maid just put her hands on her hips and smiled, as the young man turned bright red. He dashed from the room, as the maid walked over to her closet and pulled out a new uniform. “W-why aren't you dressed, Elisabeth?!”

“I accidentally spilled blood on my uniform, young master. Why aren't you in your classes?”

“The tutor finished early and released me. How did you get hurt?” The young boy's concern for the maid made Elisabeth smile. She thought back on what had happened earlier and decided what story she would go with.

“I was distracted cleaning the front porch, young master. I stumbled and cut my chin on the banister. I already cleaned the mess up, though I would advise fixing it before we have any clumsy guests over.”

“You're definitely right, Elisabeth! I'll go tell my grandfather!” The young master left, leaving Elisabeth alone to get dressed. The young woman smiled softly. The boy was innocent and free from the world's sorrows. She would do everything within her power to keep him that way.

>interrogate
>question gardener
>write-in

>>326983
>interrogate
thow im thinking the gardener knows moew then his letting on

>>326983
>>interrogate
The gardener didn't sell us out, so either he doesn't know, or can be trusted for the time being.

>>326983
>>interrogate

>>326983
>interrogate

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On her way back to the isolation room, Elisabeth passed by the kitchen. Mr. Reed laughed at her bandage and told her to learn how to walk again. She ignored his jabs and stole some of the sandwiches he'd made for the lunch meal. After eating her quick snack, she headed to the cleaning closet to find out some answers.

“Wake up, trash.” She spoke firmly in the white room, tossing the bucket of water she held into his face. He coughed and sputtered into consciousness, before groaning in agony as the pain of his leg caught up to him. “I need some answers about who hired you.”

“Go fuck yourself, you self-righteous whore! Take that screwdriver in your hand and shove it in your goddamn cunt!” He shouted at her. She sighed, shaking her head, as he continued screaming out vile obscenities.

“Choose: good maid or bad maid?”

“Go to hell with your fucking shitty kid, you goddamn pedophile!” He screamed in response to her question. She just shook her head in dismay.

“Bad maid it is.” Raising her hand with the screwdriver, she slammed the point into his hand and impaled it into the wooden chair underneath. He gasped in shock, as she twisted the screwdriver and tore his hand further. Leaving the screwdriver in his bleeding hand, she turned and began going through the tool box. Chisel, hammer, pliers, and other tools were removed then set out where they were visible. She looked over at the assassin, as he stared at his impaled hand in agony. She picked up the hammer and the smallest wedge. Placing it over his other hand, she raised the hammer.

“No, wait, I'll tal-AHHH!” He screamed in agony as she sent the wedge through flesh, muscles, and bones of his other hand and into the wooden arm. He tried futilely to break free of the binds holding him firmly in the chair. She watched him, screaming in agony and trying to move his impaled hands, and smiled softly.

“Shall we see how far we can go till you break, my pathetic assassin?”

>focus on answers
>go full sadist for injury
>write-in

>>327153
>>focus on answers
We're a professional.

>go full sadist for injury
we get moist for screaming men hehehehe

>>327153
>>focus on answers

>>327153
Focus on answers

>>327153
>focus on answers
Too much torture doesn't give reliable intel.

>>327202
fuck off john mccain

>>327222
Ya caught me.

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Elisabeth raised the hammer where the sobbing assassin could see and brought it down full-force between his legs. It slammed into the wood centimeters from his crotch, causing him to start sobbing again. She leaned forward and muttered softly to him.

“I'm literally an inch from crushing your balls. Tell me who hired you or else.” To add more fear to her statement, she pushed the hammer forward into his crotch. Not enough to do damage, but drive the point home.

The assassin, all his former professionalism tossed aside for self-preservation, began speaking as fast as he could.

“I don't know any names, but they said they would be willing to pay me a small fortune to kill a kid. I didn't anticipate anything like you, though. They said they were from the Vermilion Research Department; I don't know what they gain from killing their boss. I'm in it for the cash. Let me go, I won't do anything again, please!”

He started begging for his life, as Elisabeth focused on what he had said. She'd dealt with mercenaries sent by the other primary stockholders of Vermilion Industry and Technological Enterprise Incorporated. But this was the first time the Research Department had even tried anything. Starting with an assassin wasn't cheap, either. She decided to look further into the archives to see if any research had been shut down recently. But first to deal with the trash. She walked over to her tool box, pulling out a nail gun. She walked behind the assassin, as he started begging even faster for her to spare his life. She sighed with disgust and spoke over his shoulder.

“When you make a career of taking lives, you resolve to face your own death like a true man.” With that, she pulled the trigger and fired the size 2d nail into the back of his skull. His entire body has a spasm. Then he slumped forward with a trail of blood running from his mouth. Elisabeth sighed, before setting to work to clean up the mess.

Tossing the black trash bag into the incinerator, she clapped her hands together. It was later in the evening. She had changed the laundry over to the dryer and it would be done within the hour. The young master was discussing business with the old man in the meeting room. The cook was cleaning up what remained of the dinner meal. The gardener was still outside, dealing with the garden.

>relax
>go check on the young master
>write-in

>>327280
>>go check on (and do lewd things to) the young master

>>327280
Check in on the young master

>>327280
>go check on the young master
Just to make sure there wasn't a follow up plan or anything.

>>327289
seconding the lewd

Getting ready for a flight; will post the finale of episode 0 within the hour.

>>327280
>go check on the young master

>>327289
Thirding.

Should we go for sultry black lingerie, or white wedding lingerie?

>>327327
Go with the black, and forthing.

>>327327
sultry black.

We're not marriage material. Not yet.

>>327280
>>go check on the young master
how old is he?

>>327698
Considering that assassin called us a pedophile...

Somewhere around nine to ten?

>>327280
>>relax

>>327763
14

>>327839
(Elizabeth's internal monologue)

twomoreyearstwomoreyearstwomoreyearstwomoreyearstwomoreyearstwomoreyearstwomoreyearstwomoreyearstwomoreyearstwomoreyearstwomoreyearstwomoreyearstwomoreyearstwomoreyearstwomoreyearstwomoreyears

>>327839
In that case, black lingerie it is.

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Elisabeth walked up to the edge of the doorway, in time to hear the old master speak.

“See, Alexander, the most important thing in business is seizing opportunity by the balls and making it your bitch. On that note, I have lions to hunt in the safari. Wish me luck.” The maid watched in amazement as the old man walked past in full safari regalia, old hunting rifle in hand. She shook her head and turned towards the room. She found the young master seated at the head of the large table, scouring a handful of documents. She walked up behind him, admiring the serious look he had on his face. He was young now, but he would grow up to be a handsome man. She smiled and reached from behind the chair, hugging him from behind. He jumped initially then realized who it was.

“Long day, Elisabeth?” He asked, eyes returning to the reports in front of him. She smiled, leaning forward so she could feel his blonde locks on her cheek. She could smell the expensive soap she'd chosen for him in her hair and it made her happy. He finished reading the last paper and pushed them into a stack. “I never got the opportunity to thank you, Elisabeth, for taking the position here. I had so many maids retire for no reason up till this point. Seeing you in the rain alone made me think that you could be the one who'd persevere and stay. Listen to me talk; it's like I'm older than I am.”

“No, thank you, young master, for giving me a home to call my own.” She smiled softly as he turned back to face her. He blushed at her innocent smile, before she hugged him again. She pulled away, thoroughly refreshed. Before he could find his voice to respond, she turned and exited the room. She would've stayed there all evening, enjoying his innocent reactions, but she still had a job to do. After all, she is the young master's personal Hitmaid.

>Thanks for reading; hopefully you all enjoyed this quest. I'll resume it when I have more ideas for the future. Feel free to discuss so I can steal ideas. The black lingerie will have to wait till next time.[spoiler\]

Set up a kind of clumsy maid act with the master.

>>327889
This. We need to act like we're much less skilled then we actually are. Also we should investigate what those R&D goons want with the young master.

>>327893
Well still be competent we don't want to look too bad but be more 'hand-on'

Two more years.

>>327923
Shlick.

>>327923
Hey, if young master Alexander gets carried away and ravages our body, we can't do much now can we?

>>328760
true but we're not a busty maid though so i doubt that will happen.

>>328771
Maybe master Alexander is into small tits
You never know

>>328774
now i want a busty maid assassin that tries to seduce the young master away from us.

>>328790
It could happen
And we'd have to outseduce her

>>328799
have you guys ever watched Black lagoon there liek at lest 2 people beeing the person this chick is look it up there both maids with guns but there master just thinks there normal people
there names are Fabiola Iglesias and Roberta(shes the head maid)

I certainly hope this quest continues, it certainly has the potential to be pretty awesome.

>>328861
same here i would lik e this see how this ends up

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After the rest of the staff had gone to their rooms, Elisabeth went to the archives. She pulled out the business records for the quarter and began searching for the Research and Development Department. She found their budget requests and scoffed at the amount written there. The Dept had requested a hundred thousand dollars to reopen an old branch of research. All it was titled was 'Modification'. What type of modification they intended was beyond the woman. She was a maid first and assassin second, so matters involving science were beyond her. But, why the Research Department had sent an assassin was beyond her. Was this 'Modification' branch so vital to the scientists that killing their own CEO was worth the danger it risked? Shaking her head softly, the maid returned the papers to the folder. Securing them in the dresser, she turned and headed to her room. Locking the door behind her, she walked over to her large closet. Opening the wooden doors, she pushed the uniforms and pressed a latch in the upper corner. The back of the closet fell inwards, revealing a small armory of weapons. She only had ten hours before the young master needed woken up. She needed more answers.


>go to the R&D Department (3 hour trip)
>Go to the Head Scientist's house (2 hour trip)
>search the library further for answers about the 'Modification' branch (Undetermined amount of time)

>>333641
Go the the Library and go through the secret bookshelf

>>333660
>secret bookshelf
Roll 1d100

Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>333666

Rolled 7 (1d100)

>>333666

Rolled 31 (1d100)

>>333666
Pls Satan And A Half let me find the secret whatever

Rolled 87 (1d100)

>>333666

Rolled 94 (1d100)

>>333666

Rolled 76 (1d100)

>>333666

>>333798
We have a winner. You guys really want to know what those documents are.

>>333814
>Best of 6

Great system you got there Meido. I can't wait to faceroll every challenge.

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>>334059
I never established the number of rolls; came back to 6. So took the best among them.

>>327865
I personally just want to believe that Grand dad Vermilion isn't hunting lions or other animals on his Safari, but is actually hunting the most dangerous animal of all... the dreaded Hitmaid! (Or humans. Humans would be good)

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(1/?)
Elisabeth finished loading the assault rifle, only to pause while setting it down. She had no real plan, assaulting the R&D Department. In fact, worse case scenario, she'd be seen and it would sully the young master's reputation. The plan to interrogate the head scientist would probably end in failure as well. She knew nothing about his home or the security measures he had in place. It was probably doubled, following the assassin's 'disappearance'. That only left one course of action. Figuring out what the 'Modification Wing' had been for.

Removing the magazine and clearing the weapon, Elisabeth secured her weapon in the closet. She replaced the magazines and slid the back panel in place before rearranging it like before. She double-checked her room for anything that needed immediately addressed, such as stray weapons or ammo. Satisfied after seeing none, she exited the small room.

Elisabeth searched for the old pay registers for the company. It had started as Vermilion Medicines back in 1946. It had been founded by the old guardian, whose name was Adam Vermilion. It had been highly successful, with many breakthroughs in the medical field that revolutionized medicine worldwide. They soon expanded, becoming Vermilion Industry in order to take advantage of the war against Vietnam. Through the guidance of Mr. Vermilion, the business grew even further following the war, soon becoming Vermilion Industry and Technological Enterprise Incorporated. Yet, even as their profit grew and their net worth reached the billions, only one payment remained the same: a $10000 stipend to an (UNKNOWN). At this point, the money this one recipient received had remained the same. She flipped to the most recent pay register and noticed that the stipend has suddenly vanished. When? She began flipping back through the pay registers, trying to pinpoint the exact date the pay had stopped. When she found the page, she double-checked the date. It had been the 4th quarter of the 2002 pay year. Something had happened that winter. She felt like she should know the event, because it had been mentioned before. Sudden realization dawned upon her, sending icy chills through her heart.

>>334059
>>334099
Why not do a majority roll? Set a degree to which the roll must hit or exceed and if the majority gets it then it succeeds. If not it's failure.

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(2/2)
“There's no way. The events shouldn't coincide.” She muttered, moving to the opposite side of the room. Pulling out a clean and newer folder, she walked over to the lamp and set the folder down, On it was a single phrase, penned messily by a man in sorrow. It read simply as 'My Childrens' Deaths'. She flipped it open, scouring the events. Mr. and Mrs. Vermilion had been driving home late in the evening, there was a minor accident, and both died. That's all it read. She continued flipping through the various reports, from witness statements to weather reports. The old guardian had done all of his research, in an attempt to figure out what had taken his loved ones from him. She sighed, realizing this was a dead end. As she picked up the folder, she realized there was a slight indent on the front of the black folder. Only slight, barely detectable through the black plastic. She set the folder down and looked closely, realizing there was a slight indent on the plastic. Pulling out her knife, she tested the edges of the folder. She found the edge that parted and split it completely. A postcard fell from the parted plastic, landing on the table. She flipped it over and read the message. It was a simple message, but one that carried all the weight of a death sentence.

“Mr. Vermilion, you forgot about us, your greatest researchers. We found our own answers, solved the 'riddle' placed before us all those years ago. We merely asked for a negotiation to settle the price involved with the cure. And you met us with weapons, with poisons, with death. We delivered the same to your family this evening. You won't find us, but we will return. It will not be tomorrow or any day soon, but we will return for our price. If you should cheat us again, there will be another price taken from you.”

This message left Elisabeth in shock. Had that assassin been a declaration of war? Or just a mere prelude to the battles to come? She silently began returning all the papers, trying to decide what course of action to take next. Morning was only a few hours away. Sleep was important for healing wounds. She decided to sleep till sunrise before taking action.

>tend to the young master
>double-check the perimeter of the mansion
>try to recruit allies
>write-in

>>334125
>Tend to the young master.
If things should get worse, we take him and bolt the fuck out

>>334125
Try to recruit allies

>>334125
>>tend to the young master
Black lingerie time.

>>334125
>>tend to the young master
and ALL of his needs

>>334125
>>double-check the perimeter of the mansion

>>334146
>>334151
Oh my! But I seconded these actions. But only so long as we rush into his room and tenderly caress and hold him like only an older sister can

>>334125
>>tend to the young master
How flat are we?

>>334281
Pretty sure ops original picture was us.

>>334305
Does that include the bust?

>>334309
Pretty sure.

>>334314
But it was described as her having a slender build

>>334342
>>334314
>>334309
>>334305
>>334281
The maid, Elisabeth, is similar to the OP pic. More slender in build, more of a lean, physically fit woman rather than a busty, well-rounded woman. Her bust is slightly smaller than the OP picture. Just to clear that up.

>>334342
>>334356
And this explains every question for the next little while.... well except the one about if we'll ever get with goshuujin sama. Even if we have to wait until hes in his twenties I'm sure we can wait

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After waking up, Elisabeth changed form her clothes. She selected a pair of matching black lingerie from her dresser before pulling a fresh uniform from the dresser. She laid the uniform on her bed and pulled her jewelry box from her bedside cabinet. Pulling out the bottom, she pulled two arm bands from within. Both were lined with knives secured within pouches on the band. She strapped both to the insides of her arms, shaking her hands to ensure they were properly secured and not going to come out accidentally. Satisfied, she pulled her leg holster out and slid it into place, securely fastening it. She had reloaded the magazines the previous evening, so she was sitting at a total of 51 rounds. She sat down on the edge of her bed, picking up the black lingerie and sliding it on. She stood up and put on her uniform, ensuring everything was in the proper order. Twirling twice, she checked to make sure her weapons of choice didn't show through her uniform. After double-checking, she nodded. It was a good disguise. She gathered up her dirty laundry from the night before and dropped it in her laundry hamper on the way out.

She walked up to the young master's door and paused in front of it. She took a deep breath and knocked twice. Getting no response, she pushed open the door. The light inside was dim thanks to the curtains blocking the rising sun. She walked over to the edge of the young boy's bed and noticed he stacked his dirty clothes today. He was learning. She picked up the stack of laundry and carried it back to the door, setting it down next to the doorway. She walked over to his closet, pulling out a new uniform and clothes to match. Heading back to his side, Elisabeth set them down on the dresser. She looked down at the sleeping boy and smiled sadly. He was so ignorantly blissful. It was so horrifying that he was being used as a pawn in this power play between the old guardian and the hidden department. She decided once more that she would defend him with every ounce of her being. Leaning forward, she brushed her hair to one side and kissed him softly on the cheek. Then she walked over to the curtains, yanking them open with fervor.

“Rise and shine, young master! Time waits for no one, and you have breakfast waiting for you!” Elisabeth smiled as the young master sat up. Yawning, the young boy covered his eyes against the sun. He started rubbing the dirt from his eyes, as Elisabeth began walking towards the doorway to leave. He spoke suddenly, causing her to pause.

“Why the change in hair, Elisabeth? Something wrong? It looks great, of course.” His audible concern and embarrassment crossed the air, as the maid reached up. Only now did she realize that her hair wasn't done up in a ponytail, but left straightened. She had been grueling over the knowledge from the prior night and forgotten a step in getting ready. She licked her lips softly, trying to decide what do next.

>Bluff
>Take your leave
>Write-in

>>334426
Tell him we simply forgot and thank him for pointing it out. Then we can go back and fix our hair.

>>334426
>>334454
This.

Also ask if this hairstyle is bad.

>>334454
>>Write-in
Second

And secretly search for his hidden stash of porn mags. Hairstyle must be done in the style of the girls which cover the stickiest pages.

>>334461
This as well. But add on that if he likes it we'll keep it this way

>>334465
Oh my! You naughty boy! But I have to second this as well

>>334465
>>334461
Hasn't it already been said that he likes ponytails? Kids got good taste.

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Elisabeth turned and smiled at the young master sincerely. He blushed as he sat in his bed, robe barely covering his white skin.
“My apologies, young master. I was in a hurry this morning and it slipped my mind. Thank you for the compliment. It made my morning. If you like it this way, I'll keep it just for you.” Still smiling, she turned and headed out the door. Passing through the door, Elisabeth picked up the dirty laundry next to it. The young master remained on his bed, stunned and embarrassed by how cute Elisabeth was without her hair done up.

Elisabeth sighed inside. She'd been unprofessional and forgotten something simple. She could smell breakfast downstairs, and it reminded her of her need for companions. She didn't know if she could trust any of the staff, but the two men had been members of the Vermilion household for years before her. She debated between what to do next. The mansion perimeter was honestly a mystery to her. She maintained the house, keeping it's many rooms and hallways clean and pristine. The outside was a mystery. There was only one man who knew it in it's entirety was an enigma. The old guardian, the one who'd started this feud, was also a mystery. What had that rifle been for the previous day? Did the senile old coot honestly believe he was going to the safari? Or was it something more sinister. At this rate, the only member of the staff that was normal was the fierce cook. Only in the kitchen was he fierce, though. In his own room and anywhere else in the mansion, he was a man devoid of spirit. She walked down the hallway towards the laundry room, trying to decide her next move.

>find the Gardener
>talk to the Cook
>find the old man
>write-in

>>334520
>>find the old man

>>334520
>>find the old man

>>334520
>Find the gardener

He's got some splain' to do!

In all honesty, it would be awesome if he was actually another hitman hired to keep tabs on Elizabeth and Alexander

>>334520
>write-in

Patrol the grounds under the guise of enjoying a walk.

>>334520
>>find the Gardener

>>334520
Old man

>>334520
>>find the Gardener

3's for the gardener and Old Man. If it doesn't get determined, I'll roll it.

>>334559
Wait, let me samefag.

>find the Old man

>>334559
Please just roll it

>>334589
>roll it
Already went with the old man. Working on the final update of the night.

>>334608
hahahah, dude, i can't believe that worked.

LEL

>>334610
You son of a bitch!!! I DEMAND Justice!!! I challenge you and your maid to a battle to the death against mine!

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Elisabeth decided the best thing to do would be go straight for the root of the matter. She deposited the dirty laundry in the laundry room and headed for the dining room. Walking in, she noticed the Cook standing by with a plate with toast and eggs. The young master was eating the fried eggs and bacon on the plate in front of him. She glanced around the table and realized the old man wasn't here. Stepping over to the cook, she whispered to him.

“Where is the old guardian?”

“He headed up to the Archives. Mentioned something about planning his next safari outing. Took his food with him. There's extras in the kitchen if you need a bite of something.” The grizzled young man spoke softly and irritably, annoyed by the fact the old man hadn't eaten his food. Elisabeth nodded, exiting the dining room silently so the young master wouldn't notice.

She headed up the stairs quickly, trying to prepare mentally what she'd say to the old man. If he was truly senile, she wouldn't get much in info. Maybe bringing up events could spark some memories. She finally reached the Archives, only slightly out of breath. Pulling her hair back over her shoulders and taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door firmly.

“Mr. Vermilion, it is the maid. Permission to enter.”

“Eh? Is that you child? Come right in!” She sighed softly. His voice was shaky but firm, but the words made her confident of his senility. She pushed open the door, lowering her head in respect. She paused with her head down as she heard the locking of a hammer. She bit her lip, as the old man spoke again, this time his voice soft, firm, and full of strength. “Go ahead and close that door, Elizabeth Stark. Don't bother going for your weapons. I'll shoot you to death before you clear leather.”

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She cursed herself mentally as she pushed the door shut behind her. Glancing up, she saw the old man, blue eyes full of strength, and the large magnum he was wielding. A revolver which was American in model. It had more than enough strength to kill her. He was waiting for her to move. She was trapped. She tried to find something, anything, to use to escape, when the old man spoke.

“Go ahead and sit down, Elizabeth. I saw the documents you tampered with and know the cat's out of the bag. I'm also aware of what you are, what you did, and what you're doing currently. Can't say that I'm comfortable with you being close to my only family, but it's the only reason he is alive. And for that I thank you.” The old man sighed and released the hammer on the pistol before setting it down on the desk next to him. He waited for her to sit down before talking again. “I was involved in a lot of questionable things before starting Vermilion Medical. The methods I used stay above the rest were nothing short of barbaric. The business was different then. All I had to do was phone in a favor and the business two streets down didn't exist the next day. Now Vermilion Tech has grown to the point where it's own worst enemies are those from within. I know you have questions; what do you want to know?”


>why do you act senile?
>Who is the 'Modification Wing'?
>What did you owe them?
>Write-In

>>334648
>>Who is the 'Modification Wing'?

>>334648
>Who is the 'Modification Wing'?

>>334653
This.

Il admit, when I saw the part about him point a gun at us, I thought senpai had noticed me and was going to have the old man actually hunt people/hitmaids

>>334648
>Who is the 'Modification Wing'?
Asking the important questions first.

>>334648
>>Who is the 'Modification Wing'?

>>334648
>>Who is the 'Modification Wing'?

Got kicked out of the place with Internet; I'll update again tomorrow. Thanks for reading today!

>>334737
shit man good luck and look fawd to it

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(1/2)
Elizabeth finally relaxed when the old man finished talking. She thought about what to ask, before settling on the most pressing matter. The matter involving the future of her precious master, Alexander Vermilion. Pushing the hair back out of her eyes, she gathered her breath and spoke.
“Mr. Vermilion....who or what is the Modification Wing?” She asked, voice shaking in the stifling silence. The old man looked even wearier as he pushed papers off his desk. He pulled an old box off the back of his desk and opened it. Pulling out a thick cigar, he bit off the end and lit it with a lighter he pulled from his pocket. Stoking the cigar till it was burning well, he took a contemplative drag and savored the taste of the cigar. Blowing out the black smoke, he began talking.

“When we first started branching off into Technology, the Medical branch was still making steady breakthroughs in exploring the human body and finding cures for numerous diseases. We made hundreds of thousands in cash from the medicines we created. When the war in Vietnam was brewing, the government came to us with a different request. Following the devastation of the French in the jungles of Vietnam, the people in power realized that a conventional war would be all but impossible. They explored many avenues in their search for a definite solution to winning the war that would come. One almost science-fiction solution was human modification. The Pentagon wanted to create the perfect super soldier. A being that was faster, stronger, and more resilient than your average soldier. If anyone could create that fantasy, it would be Vermilion Medical. They signed a contract with my company at the time, promising us the patent on any miracle drug created, a million dollar grant, and the guarantee that our success would only be used to end the war. I founded a wing devoted entirely to researching the science behind the human body and ways to possibly enhance it's outputs. I elected one of my most brilliant scientists to lead the project. His name was Johannes...I forgot his last name. He was a scientist from overseas who had come seeking a job.”

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(2/3)
He paused to take another long puff of his cigar before continuing. “The project was slowed down by the fact that no one had tried to do what we were and been successful. It was a grave breach of the Geneva Convention, but one that would be justified as the horrors of the war in Vietnam began making the front pages. The Modification Wing pushed themselves to their limits, trying desperately to find the key to unlocking the human potential. They thought they had found it at the same time the War had reached it's peak. We requested a batch of draft dodgers that had been jailed. What happened next was what helped fuel the anti-war movement. From the initial batch of test subjects, only one lived more than a day. He managed to break free of the isolation chamber and was lost in the city. He was discovered, thought to be the result of 'government testing', which gave the hippies more fuel. With piles of meat that had been subjects, we were shut down instantly. Unfortunately for me, Johannes was a driven man. He demanded I let him continue his research, guaranteeing that he would return my money and seal the deal with the government. He wanted a chance to redeem himself in my eyes. The War ended, my business grew, and I almost forgot the Modification Ward and it's devoted lead. The deposits to his wing continued for years. It was such a menial amount in the grand scheme of things that no one batted an eye. It wasn't until the winter of 2002 that a young man entered the business meeting for the first quarter. He was a man I had never seen before, which set off mental alarms. My son was the man in charge at the time and questioned the sudden entrance. The man came out with a list of demands so ridiculous it boggled the mind. It was followed by an offer that made even me consider it. The gift of youth.”

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The old man took another puff and stared at the smoldering end of his cigar. What he saw in the embers that danced at the end of the black tobacco and paper Elizabeth could only imagine. “I was offered a second chance at life. Then more demands came. Johannes, that dumb son of a bitch, had been saving the money I had given him. He'd solved the mystery decades in the past and had been using the extra time to use his research to go further and deny what science defined as reality. The man showed us a picture of the scientist. What should have been a sixty-something bastard was a young man. He wanted something only a retard who thought he could become immortal would want: world domination. Why some German scientist wanted to be ruler of the world is beyond me. But, long story short, my son and I went and took out the trash. We wiped the Modification Wing from the face of the earth. Hell, I was the one who blew Johannes grinning face into a pile of gore and bone fragments. But, at the end of 2002, the thing my son had crushed reared up, killing both him and his beautiful wife. My grandson was left orphaned at 2. I did everything within my power to track them down and only now they choose to appear. Doubtless they've infiltrated Vermilion Tech with their agents and are planning another assault as we speak. The safest place for my son is here, where you can guard him. The only problem is tearing out the root of the issue. We need to eradicate the Modification Wing in its entirety.”

>”What's the grand scheme?”
>”I'm only here to protect the young master.”
>”Why do you act senile if you're competent?”
>Write-In

>>337530
>>”I'm only here to protect the young master.”

>>337530
>"What's the grand scheme?"

>>337530
>>”I'm only here to protect the young master.”

>>337530
>>”I'm only here to protect the young master.”

Rolled 73 (1d100)

>>337530
Rolling to kill everyone in a murderous rampage. And then /ss/.

Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>337637
Second

Rolled 62 (1d100)

>>337637
Thirdeded

Rolled 79 (1d100)

>>337637
I roll to oppose

Rolled 22 + 79 (1d100 + 79)

>>337644
I roll to oppose your opposition

Rolled 34 (1d100)

>>337644
Rolling to oppose this opposition

Quick word to the wise: in order to be able to win a fight with the weakest member of the mansion, the necessary roll will be 99. Next 3 tries are all I'll accept, then it will be overruled.

Rolled 52 (1d100)

Gotta try to win, amirite?

Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>337647
Rolling to oppose this opposition of that opposition

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Rolled 35, 69, 72, 80 = 256 (4d100)

Time to really advance this plot.

Rolled 66 (1d100)

>>337650
Rolling to oppose your infinite fucking chain of retardation

Rolled 74 (1d100)

here we go boys

Abandon everything

Rolled 7 (1d100)

Coming soon: >"You're gonna have things shoved inside you. Not-fleshy things. BAD things"

>>337649
>>337651
>>337653

Attempt to murder all staff and kidnap for /ss/ will end in complete failure. Want to continue down this road?

Rolled 10 (1d100)

>>337656
If I roll a 99 then yes, even if it's far too late

Rolled 30 (1d100)

>>337656
>256
>complete failure

Alright there buddy, thanks for the RAILROADING!

Yeah murder all staff and kidnap for /ss/

File: Spoiler Image (56 KB, 450x300)

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Rolled 72 (1d100)

>>337656
I roll to not go with this crazy plan, let's just entertain everyone with pic.

Rolled 75 (1d100)

>>337660
I roll to oppose you posting anymore

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Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>337656
You can't keep arguing with the incredible rolls we've been displaying so far.

>>337659
>35,69,72,80=256
None of those are the number 99, comrade. He should've gone 10d100. What I'm saying is that the maid isn't able to handle the staff in its entirety without a literal miracle. She will die and it will be game over.

>>337662
You don't want cartwheeling into an exhibitionist stripping session?

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>mfw a few idiots try to kill a fun quest

Meido, please just ignore them.

Rolled 40, 89, 39, 5, 15, 24, 77, 61, 25, 92 = 467 (10d100)

>>337665
He rolled over a 99 though. 256 is a much bigger number.

>>337665
Forgot my trip. On mobile

Rolled 44, 55, 81, 32, 84, 21, 8, 69, 89, 64 = 547 (10d100)

>>337668
>1 post by this ID

yeah, you're probably the troll. I'm a dedicated player.

>>337672
>dedicated player

You're just a shitposter. Just because my ID is different now doesn't mean I haven't been participating since the beginning. Some people's IP's change.

Rolled 49, 13, 64, 66, 90, 11, 18, 87, 61, 40 = 499 (10d100)

>>337682
No you're just a troll trying to ruin the good clean fun we're having!

>>337669
>>337672
>>337685
What are you rolling?

Rolled 10, 4, 50, 78, 14, 97, 97, 56, 38, 7 = 451 (10d100)

>>337687
I'm rolling 4 Victory

>Rolling ridiculous amount of die
>Not a single one of them is 99
Dice god is either trolling or is onboard with us trying to kill every staff and fail.

Rolled 14, 89, 41, 94, 64, 88, 53, 38, 53, 79 = 613 (10d100)

>>337709
Dice god hear my plea.

Make this roll get me a 93!

File: 1465051901738.png (732 KB, 691x724)

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>>337711
>Ask for 93
>Get 94

Rolled 482 (1d1001)

>>337656
Now for the real test of Luck. I can't lose Baby!

Rolled 419 (1d1000)

>>337713

What the hell, at least I was close

I want an 88 in my post!

Rolled 97, 90, 17, 96, 46, 45, 98, 72, 36, 6 = 603 (10d100)

>>337716
snap i fucked it up

File: 1465153555231.jpg (1.24 MB, 1080x1080)

1.24 MB JPG

>>337717
>Want 88
>Not a single 80's is found
You almost get a 99 at the very least.

Rolled 78, 88, 54, 49, 37, 20, 38, 91, 45, 38 = 538 (10d100)

>>337718
Y'know as beginnings are considered this wasn't that sunny

If I rolled a 99 now it would surely be funny

Rolled 11, 52, 16, 84, 19, 13, 33, 70, 36, 72 = 406 (10d100)

>>337719
Keeping this train going till we reach 99.
Choo Choo Fuckers!

Rolled 60, 86, 8, 86, 89, 76, 23, 7, 81, 48 = 564 (10d100)

>>337721
Gotta happen someday, right?

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>>337719
>Get 88
Dice god has a great sense of humor.

Rolled 22, 25, 61, 48, 32, 65, 58, 32, 83, 74 = 500 (10d100)

QM, did you kill yourself? Please come back.

If i get 100, Meido comes back!

>>337726
I think Meido is just sitting back and watching us with popcorn.

Rolled 50, 73, 29, 77, 13, 59, 4, 49, 30, 12 = 396 (10d100)

>>337727

He's just waiting for us to make him proud

This 99 is 4 u!

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>>337728
I like how the more you guys roll, the farther it gets from 99.

Rolled 10, 15, 7, 8, 59, 100, 46, 90, 39, 61, 16, 38, 28, 85, 10, 3, 50, 81, 36, 63 = 845 (20d100)

>>337728
Upping the stakes, gotta get it this time.

File: 1464317015412.jpg (177 KB, 1024x1479)

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>>337730
HOLY SHIT, I DID IT! Are you checking this OP, Nat 100. Boom bitch.

Rolled 9, 55, 60, 87, 44, 41, 86, 92, 65, 29, 28, 91, 13, 37, 46, 6, 18, 18, 97, 24, 18, 30, 60, 22, 7 = 1083 (25d100)

>>337730
WE MUST GO EVEN FURTHER!

>>337731
Not a 99, QM specifically asked for 99.

File: 1431313491971.jpg (37 KB, 248x250)

37 KB JPG

>>337730
You got a 100!

Rolled 81 (1d100)

>your all welcome

>>337668
Other players being stupid is my number one reason to drop a quest. Especially when they're the majority. I don't even know what's happening here, am I supposed to vote on the post too? Tossing a vite for the hell of it.

>>337530
>>”What's the grand scheme?”
Gotta make sure we can protect the kid I guess.

>all these anons trying to end the quest

God fucking damnit, I was actually enjoying this too.

>>337530
>”What's the grand scheme?”

>>338091
Calm down guys I'm sure something like this won't kill a quest.

>>337530
>”I'm only here to protect the young master.”

>>338098
The problem is that the QM may have (Though I really doubt it) enabled them by saying they need to roll a 99.

>>337530
>"I'm only here to protect the young master."

I'm sure it'll result in a reply along the lines of "Then eradicating the Modification Wing would be in your interests for the threat they pose to the young master."

Not that this particular route is really a problem.

New thread here
>>339039