[a / b / c / d / e / f / g / gif / h / hr / k / m / o / p / r / s / t / u / v / vg / w / wg] [i / ic] [r9k] [cm / hm / y] [3 / adv / an / cgl / ck / co / diy / fa / fit / hc / int / jp / lit / mlp / mu / n / po / pol / sci / soc / sp / tg / toy / trv / tv / vp / x] [rs] [status / ? / @] [Settings] [Home]
Settings   Home
/qst/ - Quests

File: IMG_1126.png (1.04 MB, 1200x750)
1.04 MB
1.04 MB PNG
Previous Threads:

Last time, the Imperator of the Order of Alagos, Krystal Tassoni, built up the Order a fair bit. After a month of Imperator-related business, Alagos dropped by to declare a crusade and talk about Sasha's recently-discovered pregnancy. You will be preparing to retake Diluvium, the previous storm god's patron city. At the moment, however, you're trying to figure out what you're going to do with your accidental clone...
>we can just glob together and turn the excess into a little slime.

"That's... surprisingly logical." your clone says. You should give her a nickname... like Crystal. That won't get confusing at all.
You get up, take a quick shower together, and quickly realize you don't have enough clothes for the both of you.

>[]Get rid of the clone now.
>[]One of you takes the jeans and bra, the other takes the panties and shirt. Easy.
>[]Stay up here, I'll get someone to bring you food.
File: IMG_1065.jpg (281 KB, 828x547)
281 KB
281 KB JPG

"Across the sea, on the western continent, is a race of odd pinkish-purple creatures, referred to as 'daemonettes'. Reports confirm shapeshifting abilities, but to what extent, we aren't entirely sure yet. There don't seem to be any males in the few settlements we've made contact with, perhaps they rely on males of other species, or reproduce asexually, or through spores. Truth be told, information on daemonettes is scarce, and we've found few willing to travel to Solus Mortem, even for half-naked tribal women. This fact should emphasize how hostile the continent is."

>[]One of you takes the jeans and bra, the other takes the panties and shirt. Easy.

Not becoming the best lovers dul rulers ever
Not even lovers just very good masterbation
"Here, you take these."
You toss Crystal the jeans and bra.
"I'll get you a robe or something later. We left clothes at Alagos's place, right?"
"Right... so I'm the real Krystal, let's just get that established, okay?"
"Nope. You're the one with the different hairstyle. We clearly defined that as the 'clone' earlier. Also, I'm the one being controlled by /qst/."
"Shit. I hoped you'd forget about that."
You go downstairs, unsurprisingly turning a few heads.
"Hey, look. There's Faervel." your clone cackled.
She turns from the adept she was talking to.
"Hi, Krystal. Wha--"
She freezes and looks back and forth between you and your clone.

>[]Hi. This is my twin sister, Crystal.
>[]I sort of accidentally cloned myself.
>[]...Faervel? You ok? What's wrong? You look like you're seeing double.
File: IMG_1139.jpg (44 KB, 900x360)
44 KB
(My opinion on these bumps is kinda contrasting, now. It allows me to write more lore I couldn't fit in anywhere else, but it also means the thread's running slowly)

"Diluvium was a major trade port of the Sylph Empire, built within caverns in the West Sea cliffs. It owes it's security (even as little more than ruins) to the walls built along the mouth of the cave entrances, which have kept pirates at bay for centuries. It's second most famous feature would be the central gardens, situated under a natural skylight (Bôr kept the weather nasty most of the time, but it was still a welcome sight to see the clouds). Many a couple, both humble and rich, has walked amongst the white paths and lush greenery. What state it is in now is unknown, but the plants certainly haven't withered from lack of water."
>>[]Hi. This is my twin sister, Crystal.
Faervel seems somewhat less panicked then before.
"Oh. Krystal never told me she had a twin... you came with her from that other world as well? What's your name?"
"I'm Krystal with a K. She's Crystal with a C."
Faervel looks a lot more distressed then she did earlier.
"Oh... your parents must've been interesting people..."
"They certainly were." Crystal replies.
That was true. Your mom was Irish, and your dad came from a Slavic family.
"By the way, you mind getting me a robe? I don't mind showing off my tits, but it's kind of chilly, and my clo--er, sister, would like her pants back."
"I... yes, we should have one. I'll retrieve it."
Faervel comes back and hands Crystal a standard-issue Order robe.
Your 'sister' gives her thanks and takes her pants off underneath the robe, much to Faervel's embarrassment, before tossing them to you. You put them on thankfully. It's kind of cold in the mornings.

>[]Hey, I should show you around the city. I've never actually gone myself...
>[]So, are we splitting Imperator duties, or..?

>[]Hey, I should show you around the city. I've never actually gone myself...
File: IMG_1140.jpg (134 KB, 1000x1200)
134 KB
134 KB JPG
"You haven't seen the city? Well, I guess you've been busy here." Faervel said.
"Sis, you haven't even taken a look around? Gods, what a loser."
You kick Crystal in the shin.
"Oh, shut up and follow me."
You put on your armor and Imperator cape and step outside. A five minute walk takes you to the outskirts of Nomine.
It's a decently-sized city. While you haven't explored, you did go to a blacksmith to get some rifles made. The streets are organized much like back home, with sidewalks and a main thoroughfare, which sees a lot of traffic from what appear to be cars and motorcycles, except the wheels don't seem to be attached to the axles, and everything's gold and shaped weird.
Besides generic guards in basic armor, there are also knights patrolling the streets, though you suspect they're constructs of some kind, especially after one stops you.
"You are Imperator Tassoni?" it asks Crystal in a hollow, ringing voice.
"Uh, no..." she replies, pointing at you.
"Identical twins. This has been taken into account. Duke Aron requests your presence. It is recommended that you do not attempt to resist."
"Oh, shit. I can't think of anything we did... last week? When we got really drunk?"
"While the incident was unfortunate, that is not what Duke Aron wishes to see your sister for. Besides, the Duchess has accepted your apology, and the tortoises were all retrieved."

>[]I'll go.
>[]What the fuck did I do..?
>[]You'll never take me alive! (Roll 1d20)
>I'll go.
Rolled 1 (1d20)


>[]You'll never take me alive! (Roll 1d20)
File: IMG_1142.jpg (50 KB, 440x248)
50 KB

"Ha! The Jakes think they can detain me, eh?"
You draw your sword, Crystal slowly sidles away from you.
"Remember this as the day you almost caught--"
The construct knocks your sword from your hand.
"IT WAS A JOKE I'LL COME QUIETLY!" you shout, rubbing your knuckles.
Crystal's laughing her ass off as the construct grabs your sword and escorts you to the Duke's residence.
It's a pretty nice place. Big, professional landscaping. You pass a gated off pond that has three locks on the door for whatever reason. A tortoise pokes it's head above the water as you pass. Cute.
The construct hands you off to some guards, giving you your sword back.
"I trust you won't do anything foolish." it says before leaving.
"Yeah, yeah..."
You're led a while more through the mansion before turning a corner and running right into someone.
"Ow! Agh, you okay?"
The unfortunate woman you ran into rubs her nose. You get a good look at her as she does. Older woman, her hair hasn't quite turned gray yet. Her body isn't exactly suffering either, as you can tell from her pretty revealing clothing. Must be the duchess, noblewomen tend to wear negligee in public for some reason. Not that you mind, it just takes some getting used to.
"Be more careful where you--"
She freezes and blushes slightly.
"Ah. Go about your business."
She leaves, and you continue around the corner to the Duke's office.

How do you make your entrance?
>like we own the place, which we do, okay not quiet jet but soon enough.

With trumpits and lighting and thunder tag team pose
File: IMG_1143.gif (629 KB, 500x294)
629 KB
629 KB GIF
You don't have trumpets... but you have your phone! You've wondered when it would come in handy.
Let's see... aha! This'll set the mood.
You prime your phone to begin playing, hiding it in a pocket where you'll be able to pause and play without anyone seeing.
You take a deep breath, turn up the volume, and push the doors open. The first twenty-four seconds of O Fortuna play as you stride over to the Duke's desk.
You quietly pause the music and look at the Duke.
He's justifiably confused, and seems to have nearly ruined one of his signatures. He looks like you thought he would. Balding, glasses, potbelly. You thank the gods that the noblemen don't wear negligee as well.
"Hi. You wanted to see me?"
Duke Aron snaps out of his stupor and stands.
"Oh... Mrs. Tassoni. Or is it Miss..?"

>[]Nothing official yet.
>[]It's a very open relationship. I'm not making any offers, just so we're clear.
>[]Nope. Absolutely no one.
>[]It doesn't matter. What did you call me here for? My sister's probably in an alley with half the guard by now.
>It doesn't matter. What did you call me here for? My sister's probably in an alley with half the guard by now.
File: IMG_1145.jpg (49 KB, 500x332)
49 KB
(Dammit, I just missed a lightning strike really close to my house. Alagos isn't giving me lightning powers anytime soon, it seems)
"Ah. That's... quite descriptive. I suppose we shouldn't wast time, then."
He stands up.
"First of all, the Order of Alagos is now officially recognized by the Sylph Empire as a religious order, and is now under such rules, regulations, et cetera. You've probably done your research, anyway."
Well, you haven't, but at least you got to skip the lecture.
"The real reason I've called you here..."
The Duke sighs and readjusts his glasses.
"Those weapons you've created, those 'guns'... I wish to requisition some for the city's militia. Your Order's blacksmith is rather tight-lipped about the affair, so I'd like to ask if you could lend me his services, or at least a schematic. Hiring your members out to help with training wouldn't be amiss, either. You are mercenaries of a sort, are you not?"

>[]Sure. Whatever.
>[]Hell no!
>[]Sounds good... but there's the matter of the patent. (Roll 1d20 for extra ₩isps)
>[]Alright, but I want this to be completely exclusive. If any of them got into the wrong hands...
>[]Sounds good... but there's the matter of the patent.
Oops. Thought I forgot to add that one.
File: IMG_1149.png (448 KB, 480x360)
448 KB
448 KB PNG
Lore bump.

"The power structure of the Sylph Empire is rather straightforward. The high king rules over the entire Empire, the lower kings each rule a section thereof, the Dukes are placed in charge of the cities, and so on. The second in command of the military would be the Chief General, then the other generals, then the lieutenants, etc. The religious Orders have their own hierarchy, with the High Priestess of Aeneth as the head and everyone else jockeying for position. The Order of Alagos is ranked #56 of 1083, coming ahead of various gods of cheeses and accounting, and bolstered by their invention of guns. Only the top 50 are permitted to attend the Ordos Council, a meeting of the most powerful heads of the Orders. If half the rumors I've heard about Tassoni are true, we simply must get someone in the first meeting she partakes in. I've been running short on humorous occurrences lately."
Rolled 7 (1d20)

>[]Alright, but I want this to be completely exclusive. If any of them got into the wrong hands...
It can and will alter the face of warfare forever, and will most likely render any non enchanted armor obsolete in sentient warfare.

(Rolling for extra wisps)
The Duke interrupts you.
"Pardon me, what exactly is this... 'patent?'"
You explain that it's a way to ensure that credit for the invention isn't falsely misplaced, and all others who might want to manufacture guns will need to pay royalties in order to do so.
The Duke scoffs.
"I've never heard of such a practice. There's no basis for it in the law anywhere! The credit will most certainly not be misplaced, anyway."
He reaches below his desk and places a small bag of Wisps on the table.
Unlike those you've seen, which glow bronze (1), silver(10), gold (100) etc, these glow a bright blue (1,000).
"Five hundred thousand Wisps. And not a bronze more."
Holy shit, that kind of money could probably buy guns for everyone from here to the capital. Well, probably not. It's still a little too much for just some militia.

>[]Come on, Aron! You can be the first to pioneer a new practice in law! (Roll 1d100, if you fail below 5, he'll halve his offer)
>[]Pleasure doing business. By the way, your wife seemed wary of me earlier... did I do something?
Rolled 92 (1d100)

>Come on, Aron! You can be the first to pioneer a new practice in law! (Roll 1d100, if you fail below 5, he'll halve his offer)
File: IMG_1163.png (623 KB, 1021x1500)
623 KB
623 KB PNG
(I meant a d20 but this will do)
"Aron, you shortsighted fool!"
"Please don't call me Aron."
"This is a golden opportunity to pioneer the future of technology and law! You'll be remembered as the first Sylph official to issue a patent."
"First... Sylph?"
"Yes, Cinderfell's already issuing these--"
"WHAT!? How do I issue one of these!?"
You explain patents as best as you can, handing the Duke a schematic of your gun, minus the rifling. Can't let everyone have too much fun at once, plus it'll make your forces look like they have great aim.
The Duke hands you the bag of Wisps and shakes your hand.
"It was a pleasure doing business with you, Krystal."
"Likewise. I'll be sure to contact you again when I figure out how to make grenades."
You exit the mansion. Crystal was waiting for you by the door, looking a little tipsy and carrying some books.
"Hey, how'd it go?"
"Suckered him into giving me a patent. I think we're set for life."
Crystal snickers as you walk back to the stronghold.
"What're those?"
"Magic books. Figured you have melee down, so I'll work on violating the laws of physics instead."
You're pretty hungry when you get back to the stronghold, all you had to eat this morning was some mush and two shots of whiskey (seriously, these primitive screwbags don't have much diversity in alcohol).
You open the door to the mess hall while arguing with your clone about who should be Punished Krystal for the backup plan when Alagos jumps in front of you, wearing Order armor.
"Surprise!" he shouts, letting a colorful explosion off in your face. You can hear several people cheering further into the mess hall.

>[]Do you honestly think you're fucking funny?
>[]Panic shot.
>[]Gack--goddammit, what the hell are you doing, Alagos? You can't be in public!
>Gack--goddammit, what the hell are you doing, Alagos? You can't be in public!
He cuts you off in the middle of your sentence.
"Yes, it's me! Albert! Y'know. Your childhood friend who wanted to be an adventurer--wait, who's that?"
He stops and looks at Crystal uncomprehendingly.
"I'm Krystal's twin sister, Crystal. Y'know, the one that jumped you in the barn and sensually took your--"
You look around the mess hall. Cake, alcohol, lots of food...
"Uh... what's going on?"
Alagos throws his arm around your shoulders.
"Oh, silly Krystal. It's your birthday, of course!"
Your eyes widen. It all makes sense now.
A few days ago, Alagos asked when your birthday was in the middle of a battle. You thought he was just being an asshole, but...
You count out the days since you came here... yep. It's March 13th by that metric.
Jaylen and Faervel come up to you.
"I lied earlier when I said we had a trap for a thief... truth is, we didn't want you seeing your cake being made."
"Happy 30th birthday, Krystal! And, uh, Crystal."
"IT'S 29, YOU ASS!" you both shout at the same time. A magic candle is quickly removed from your cake. Funny how similar the traditions are.

>[]Well, let's eat! You're starving.
>[]Tear up and start talking about how you love everyone.
>[]Tell everyone about your deal with the Duke.
>Tear up and start talking about how you love everyone.
You look around the room, at the faces of your recruits. Kunzom the Blacksmith-Paladin, Rolland, your assistant, Twitch, the paranoid guy hiding in the corner.
You feel something, deep down. Last time you felt this was when you told Alagos you loved him...
Unconsciously, a tear trickles down your face. Crystal looks at you in surprise.
"Dammit, not here. Keep it together--"
You sniff. Crystal starts getting teary-eyed, too. You both frantically wipe your faces.
"You guys are just... the greatest religious zealots I could ask for. I love you all."
The paladins don't know what to think of this at first. Eventually, Faervel gives you a hug.
"We love you too, Krystal. Except during PT."
This earns a few chuckles from the room. Alagos, Crystal, Jaylen, and even Gareth (you didn't see him. Damn Imps are too short) give you a group hug. All the other paladins come forward, too. It gets very uncomfortable.
Everyone pulls themselves together, and you wipe your snot off on Crystal's robe, to both your disgust.
"Krystal, you sound like a surly drunk when you're crying."
You kick Alagos in the crotch.
"I just openly told people I love them, and you had to ruin the whole fucking thing, you asshole!"

>[]Let's just eat already.
>[]Oh, yeah. Crusade soon.
>[]The Duke gave me a present! ₩500,000!

(Happy birthday, Krystal! She'll be just turning ten, assuming she exists in our timeline. I'll be getting some sleep, should be back in about 8 hours)
File: IMG_1162.jpg (621 KB, 2000x2000)
621 KB
621 KB JPG
Lore bump.

"Revenants are the bodies of those murdered in cold blood, animated by some spirit of vengeance. They retain some semblance of memory, enough to put up a decent fight. This, along with their untiring nature, make them not to be underestimated. Intelligence or power in life affects them in undeath, allowing some revenants to cast spells and even write or gesture. No documented revenant has ever spoken. They will usually remain fixated on their killer, unless they are hindered in some way. Then, they will proceed to attack until their path is clear. Should they kill their murderer, or should the murderer die of other causes, revenants will crumble into ash. Revenants have been found to arise from seemingly natural deaths, suggesting the phenomenon can be misapplied, foul play was involved, or the revenants are simply trying to lash out at the gods themselves."
File: IMG_1170.jpg (103 KB, 614x409)
103 KB
103 KB JPG
(Another lore bump. I should probably just skip to the beginning of the crusade...)

"Gods are sustained by belief. Those who go unworshipped eventually shrivel up and fade away. The opposite seems to be true, as well.
Long ago, a man lived with his wife, and they were quite happy. Unfortunately, the wife fell ill, and died. Stricken with grief, the husband fell to his knees and looked up at the moon, his wife's favorite sight in the night sky. If she was anywhere, it would be there. And the only way to reach the moon is through prayer.
His peers avoided him, sure that praying to the spirit of a dead mortal would earn him the gods' wrath. They were quite surprised when he emerged from his house, holding what was indisputably a holy symbol, depicting a crescent moon.
Perhaps his belief was strong enough to create a moon goddess, or his love was enough to soften the hearts of the gods, and allow him some connection with her.
He died some years later, and many say the moon had never shone so bright before or since."
(...yeah, I'll just skip all the birthday crap. It was gonna be pretty linear anyway)

You eat a decently-sized meal of seasoned bread, something that tastes like chicken, and some pinkish bulbs with leafy shoots. Pretty good.
The cake is great, too. Tastes less sugary then you would like it to be (sugar processing hasn't been invented yet, though, so it's a pass).
Idle conversation reveals that Faervel is thirty-four, and Jaylen is actually fifty-three. You do your best to hide your surprise, seems lifespans are longer here.
Then comes the alcohol. You have what must've been like a pint of 'pure wineweed extract', which turned out to be the equivalent of 100% alcohol. You can vaguely recall dragging Crystal and Alagos back to your room, and vomiting out the window. The next day, you wake up feverish and delirious, and remain that way for about a week. How fortunate for you, that was just long enough for the crusade preparations to finish!
Crystal, of course, spent her days studying magic and her nights screwing trainees just to give you migraines. You never knew how much of a bitch you could be sometimes...
File: IMG_1146.jpg (32 KB, 425x335)
32 KB
New thread.

Delete Post: [File Only] Style:
[Disable Mobile View / Use Desktop Site]

[Enable Mobile View / Use Mobile Site]

All trademarks and copyrights on this page are owned by their respective parties. Images uploaded are the responsibility of the Poster. Comments are owned by the Poster.