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/qst/ - Quests

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13 strangers awoke after an accident in a cave with strange objects, sinister shapes outside, and no memories of anything.

One man, Flattop, recovered a memory that his agency had him abduct the others as Subjects from other worlds in order to test their abilities, value, and threat to his own.
He also remembered burying their belongings, and then the short haired woman using a wand to wound one man, which led to the incident that caused everyone to lose their memories.

Flattop has only shared his memory of burying the belongings.
They dug them up, finding a high tech medical satchel to save the wounded man, and the other objects appeared to be individual, strangely mundane items.
The 11 others examined them as the Wounded guy, named Victor R. Mundis, began a bizarre vision quest while unconscious.

After having absorbed the strength of a demon named Brian Trahm, you encountered a king that proffered a test of selecting objects, you subverted the test with amazing results, transforming you.
Eventually, you realize that you are now outside and standing over the fallen king.
The castle is gone, but not gone.
It is within you, part of you.
And you know what it was.

The smallest units that had made up the stone were not subatomic particles, but concepts.
The castle was a representation of that which protects the one in power.
Much like your offices, the castle was a simple edifice that both protects the ruler from dangers outside and also facilitates control within.
Like the castle, your offices are a construct, one that allows you to rule over others and protects you from external threats.
You have no need of such constructs any more.
You have taken that power into yourself.

You built your company, expanded it, and led it to dominate 60% of the globe.
Your company touches many facets of life for countless people the world over.
And all of this by your hand.
No matter what happens to you, your legacy, your power, and your immortality are assured by your company that you have constructed.
You have now taken the power of such a construct into yourself.
Your security is assured from within.

Looking down, you see the helpless and fragile king and his scattered objects.

>Demand answers from the king diplomatically. Roll under 76%.
>Destroy the king violently. Roll under 85%.
>Take object[]
>Leave king to go test new abilitycreatively. Roll under 30%.
>Switch role []
>write in
Previously threads:

I will be monitoring closely for the next five hours.
After that, responses will be somewhat delayed until tomorrow night at 1am.
Rolled 65 (1d100)

>>Demand answers from the king diplomatically.
Rolled 15, 95 = 110 (2d100)

>Demand answers from the king diplomatically.
>Destroy the king violently.
Update in coming.
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Using your new and powerful form, you reach down and pick up the king in your hand.
Gripping him tightly, you demand to know what is going on and what his little game with the objects was meant to do.
Terrified, the fragile king blurts out as fast as he can, “I’m sorry! None of this was supposed to happen this way! I am merely a messenger, no real king!
“I was to guide you gently back to where you were. That demon you tamed and devoured was threatening your life and our very existence. The objects were each aspects of who you were, intended to lead you back to your previous state.
“You were right that none of the objects on the tray were truly yours, even my crown was just an aspect of who you were.
“The suit, the one I wear now, is the only true possession of yours. But I can’t see you fitting into your old suit, or your role, now.
“It could have led you back to your former self, but by choosing to incorporate the construct that was formed to protect you, instead of an aspect of your former self, you have become something new.”
Gripping him tighter, you demand, “What has happened to me? What am I now?”
Looking sad, the King replies, “I truly do not know. This could mean anything. You won’t know until you leave this realm. You must either fight the ogre to escape, or you might just be strong enough now to make your own exit. I cannot tell you more.”
“Then you are of no more use to me, false king.” You attempt to crush him in your hand, but merely crumple the cloth of the suit as he fades entirely away.
“You will not see me again, for there is nothing left to see.”
Frustrated, you are left with an empty suit and a few false objects.
You consider your next move.

>Find and battle this “ogre”. Roll 3d100.
>Try to make your own exit. Roll under 63%.
>Take objects and absorb previous memories.
>Switch role []
>write in
Rolled 98, 99, 16 = 213 (3d100)

>>Find and battle this “ogre”.
Sure, why not.
Sorry, I slipped and fell into a well.
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Looking around the now barren, darkened landscape, you search for any sign of this “ogre”. You are expected to fight.
Half expecting to see a green cartoon, you find nothing.
Then you hear a low growl echo behind you.
You turn quickly and find yourself inside a large, empty stone tunnel.
Unlike the blue-gray stone of the castle, this stone is a warm brown and gives off the smell of life.
Up ahead, out of sight, you hear the growl again.
Fearlessly, you stride forward until you encounter the beastly source of the sound.

As the man you were before, you stood a head taller than most men and yet you would have been dwarfed by the leg of this creature.
Even as you are now, it looms over you.
Barely pausing in your stride, you surprise your enemy with a powerful right hook!

And the ogre easily blocks the blow with his large mitt, you feel the solid mass of the creature absorb your strike, but your fist feels no pain from the impact.
He wastes no time in taking the opportunity to strike your side with a thunderous fist.
Bracing for the impact, you are surprised to barely feel the punch, despite the loud crack the blow made.
Your impervious sense of security returns to the forefront of your mind.
You calm your thoughts, steel your reserve, and will your next blow to move, unyieldingly through the beast’s skull.
You blow strike and the ogre erupts into a foul mist of gore.
Shaking the blood from your fist, the depths of your new power begins to dawn on you.
The darkness of the tunnel, and the rock walls themselves, begin to fade.

>Remain in the vision quest to explore your powers
>Switch role[]
>write in
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>Switch role[]
Be the little girl!
>>Switch role[]
>Be the little girl!
Can do.
I'll try to write up a decent update before tonight, but until then, I'm limited to random phoneposting.
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You are the Little Girl.

You are scared.
The Medicine Woman that the others call "Nurse" has been very kind.
Helping her tend the Wounded Man distracted you, made you feel useful, and let you pretend for the moment that only thing protecting us from the Wolves outside will hold.
You can't remember your name, your family, or your life.
But you remember the sky, you remember the field, and you remember the Wolves.
The others were scared that they could not remember things.
But they shouldn't be.

You had hoped that digging up the supplies would give you something to hold onto, to cling to some sort of courage.
But none of the strange items gave any comfort.
Nurse seemed to understand the sack of talismans and how to wave them over the Wounded Man to help him.
Now Nurse was no longer scared.
But she should be.

The Wolves are coming and that stange, rune-less magic arch might not keep them out until morning.
And some Wolves hunt in the day, as well as the night.
Some Wolves wear the form of men and bite and claw with steel.
Some Wolves are magical and don't die right.
Some Wolves can hardly be seen, like those outside the cave, flashing their evil eyes, gleaming claws, and wet teeth in the dark.
The others aren't scared of the Wolves.
But they should be.

But you can't help feeling there was something you could do, if you could only remember.
You don't remember having ever fought one of the Wolves before.
You don't remember if you've ever seen one before tonight.
But you remember looking for them.
You always should be.

After Nurse no longer needed help, the man with the Mustache came over and gave you the strange, red cap with the rim in the front, which could block the sun well.
It nearly fit and he made an odd joke you tried to laugh at without understanding it.
You appreciated the smiling man's gift, but you are still afraid.
And you should be.

>Talk to one of the others []
>Face the cave opening and the Wolves
>Reexamine the objects, perhaps there is something that you missed
>write in
Thinking about your new cap, is it too flashy? It contrast too much with... everything else here.
The man with the Mustache, he is trying to use you as a bait, he marked you, the wolves are going to attack you first.
The Old Man is going to let the wolves in, lure the old man closer the entrance, give him the mark and kik him out, that could distrac the wolves. You are not going to die first, the man with the Mustache is not going to trick you, no one is going to.
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>Thinking about your new cap, is it too flashy?
It *is* flashy.
Isn't it always better to wear colors that help you blend with the field?

>The man with the Mustache, he is trying to use you as a bait, he marked you, the wolves are going to attack you first.
The thought panics you, and you glance over at the smiling man.
He stands, jovial and joking with the others.
He doesn't seem sinister, just odd.
But the cap does mark you.

>The Old Man is going to let the wolves in
The Old Man.
He fiddled with the orb.
He could let them all in.

>lure the old man closer the entrance, give him the mark and kick him out, that could distract the wolves.
That could work, the Wolves would go for him.
The others might escape.
But can you really do this?
You are supposed to look out for everyone.
But then, sometimes it's necessary to let the Wolves pick off the oldest and weakest before they slow down the entire flock.

>You are not going to die first
You don't want to die first!
You don't want to die at all!
Slowly, you step towards the Old Man.
Are you really going to do this?

>Trick the Old Man. Roll 3d100 for deceit, strength, and dexterity.
>Break down and confess your fears to the Old Man.
>Switch role
>write in
Rolled 36, 86, 95 = 217 (3d100)

>>Trick the Old Man.
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You approach the Old Man not sure what to say at first.
You pull off your cap nervously.
Seeing you approach, he looks up from the orb he's been tinkering with and remarks, "Oh, hello Little Girl! What can I do for you?"
Suddenly, you're not certain what to say to get him over to cave entrance with the flashy red cap.
You start to stammer, “I… uh, er, well…”
Fortunately, he doesn’t seem that wary, at all. "What's that?", he asked, "One of those odd items that we dug up?" he asks, pointing a wrinkled hand at the bright red cap in your hands.
Thinking quickly, you hand him the cap and lie, "Yes sir, it is. And it does something very strange."
"Does it now?" The Old Man examines the simple cloth cap carefully.
"Yes! Um... but it only does it near the cave entrance. Come see." You lead the elder towards the cave.
Positioning him between you and the opening, you add "No, you have to stand closer." as he nears the threshold.

"Ah, I see what you mean!" he exclaims as you reach out to push him over the threshold.
As you idly wonder what he could possibly be seeing, you reach forward and shove him as hard as you can.
Your blind panic fuels your shove and he twists and topples over!
The force of your shove spins him around and you see, impossibly, lightning crackle and pour out of the cap like water, forming in a flash into a large pool on the floor that the spinning Old Man steps into.
As his foot lands in the pool he drops though as if the floor was made of air.
His limbs flail outward and you dodge them, stumbling forward.
Pulling back from the bizarre pool of crackling energy, you deftly jump back and avoid falling in yourself.
Before the Old Man has time to utter a single word, he is gone, fallen inside the puddle of lightning.
A few moments later, the puddle vanished in a crackle and flash, leaving the floor exactly as it was.
He is gone.
So is the cap.
The Wolves remain outside, waiting.
And everyone is staring at you.

Roll 1d12 to determine how many of the others saw your attempt to throw the Old Man to the Wolves.

>Lie to everyone, claiming that he attacked you!
>Explain that he was going to open the seal and kill you all!
>Wait for the others to react.
>Run to Nurse for protection
>Switch role [ ]
>write in
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Rolled 2 (1d12)

>>Switch role [Nurse]
That roll.
These results.
Okay update pending... eventually and by 1am.
Actually, your progress has been more than significant enough for the character of your choice to Remember Something.

Victor R. Mundis has nearly recovered all his memories, so you can pick the Nurse, or any other of the others to recover a memory of whatever you choose and I'll either post it as a text update or include it in the next full update.
Flattop remember something about the creatures outside.
Also, I quite like this quest, but I am terribly sorry to tell you that may as well be considered a dead quest. (something rather strange for a drawquest, even taking into account your style). Only 5 ips, that is 4 players, on the whole thread. Feel free to wait for some other anon to make an input if you want. As for why this happened, I think the switch role option was a bad idea, it eliminates too much investment that the players may have in the characters. And going to Mr Mundis dream world efectibely eliminated concecuences(or at lest that is a very likely interpretation by the players) and breaked the flow.
The quest can continue like this, I think, but it current state is something that you may want take into account.
Thanks for the input! I'm glad you like it. As far as the "It's dead, Jim." status, I've been trying to diagnose the issue.
Part of it is the time I can run it, part of it might be the obscure title, but I'm not sure.
You're probably right about the "Switch role" option.
I had my reasons for it, but your point against it is valid.
As far as the vision quest goes, that was never intended, strongly supported, and I had no solid reason to deny it.
I will run this quest to it's end, which is swiftly approaching.
I might try a more structured approach next time.

Btw, I adopted this draw style as I tend to take an absurdly long amount of time when I try harder. I found a nice cheat for the last few vision quest posts though.
Update incoming momentarily.
Have a slight interruption.
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>Flattop remember something about the creatures outside.

Flattop was turning the strange device over in his hands.
It was shaped vaguely like a gun, but it’s design was more utilitarian than a weapon.
Like a paint gun, the glass jar attached seemed to be intended to hold something and the first trigger produced suction but nothing happened when the other trigger was pressed.
A loud crackle of electricity and Little Girl’s cry made Flattop look up from his study.
He saw the Old Man slip away into nothingness and the hysterical girl crying something about wolves before rushing for comfort to Nurse.
What could she have meant about wolves?
Oh, of course. She meant the Night Creatures.
Oh shit.
Oh, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, shit, shit!
Motherfuckin' tittysuckin' two-balled bitch!
Cold sweat drew an icy path down Flattop’s spine.

“Night Creatures.”
“Of course, we don’t know what they’re rightly called, that was just what the local industrious townfolk called the bogeymen that stalk the darkness around the settlement on this one world we went to.
“Only these bogeymen are real, let me tell you. They’re humanoid, possibly even sentient, not that you’d ever get one to stop and chat with you. They range from one to two and half meters tall. The big ones are hella strong, but it’s the little quick ones that’ll chill your blood.
“They all like to hide in the darkness, they’ve got this jet black hide and razor sharp claws like Boone knives. They have big ass fanged teeth too, but they don’t fight with them, they use their lanky ass limbs to slash and claw through flesh, blood, and steel like it was nothing.
“And they are fast. I saw the cartridge of a handful of them taking out a commando squad. They crossed the camp in three fucking frames. A full squad of heavily armed men and they gutted everyone, ate most of them too.

“Well, command had made some sort of deal to bag these bastards, and, I don’t know how, they managed to do it. But command being command, do they just kill the damn things? Nah. They get clever with them.
“They’re real nocturnal, hate the light, fire-bad, that kind of shit. So what does command do? They drop them off on this world here, where it’s night for 37 hours out of every 44. And they let the fuckers breed. They call it “contingent containment” for the staging site.
“Upshot is, anyone tries to run off past the gate stones, they ain’t gonna last long enough to be a headache to anyone down the road. But you got to, and pay attention to this part, you have to gate the hell off this world before the gate stones lose power.
“Gate stone energy fucks with them as bad as intense light, but once they run out the only thing keeping them at bay is a damn caveman fire.
“And for fuck’s sake, if things go sideways and one of the Subjects breaks the damn control orb, always remember to bring the emergency orb.”
“Now you will know why you fear the night.”
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>>>Switch role [Nurse]
You are a Nurse.

That much you remember. You also remember your satchel, the tools in it, and how to use them.
You were almost happy to have a patient as bad off as Wounded Man.
It let you concentrate on something other than the growing fear inside you.
This was crazy. Like really, really crazy. This was as strange as the alien invasion.
Wait. What was that? Yeah, you remember now.
Aliens invaded. Like real, honest, “flying saucer” aliens.
Was that who had taken you? Was that what was moving around outside the cave?
No. We had beaten them, right? Yeah.
So this wasn’t aliens. Probably.
Damn this was crazy.
So was this patient.
Most of the broken bones were mending under treatment and he was growing new blood fast enough, although she was doubtful about saving that eye.
But the Portable MRI said he had severe brain trauma, then the evidence of trauma vanished and faded to faint scarring, then all kinds of strange activity.
“Damn, these things are useless past giving a general looksee inside someone’s skull.”
We need to get him to a real machine.

The little girl’s screams snaps your head in time to see the pool of electricity swallow up the Old Man.
Oh, what now?
The Little Girl was crying, saying something about wolves outside the cave.
She ran into your arms, sobbing incomprehensibly.
You look around at the others, trying to see if anyone knows what’s going on.
Flattop looks shaken, the Kid is still staring at where the Old Man disappeared, but everyone else was confused and- Did Ginger Guy just wink at me?
“What is going on? Did anyone see what killed the Old Man?”
The Ginger Guy piped up with a grin, “Not me luv, I didn’t see a thing.” Was that another wink?

“He’s not dead.” The Kid was still staring at that same spot.
“What, how do you know?”
“He’s not dead.”, the kid repeated. “He wasn’t killed. That was a portal. I’ve seen them before. He’s somewhere… else now.”
“What? How…?”
“I don’t think these are normal objects we dug up. Well, maybe not all of them. We should figure out what they are.”

“We don’t have much time.” Flattop interjected. “The stones around the entrance to the cave are darkening. When they all go out, I think the N- those creatures out there will come in and we’ll have to fight them off.”
Blondie, who had remained mostly quiet so far, exclaimed, “We need to get out of here!”
Still holding the crying Little Girl, you take a moment to think about what you should do.

>Try to thoughtfully figure out the objects. Roll 12d100.
>Try to experimentally figure out the orb. Roll under 60%.
>Prepare to fight the creatures.
>Switch role
>write in
I sincerely apologize that the main update tonight was delayed. It certainly had nothing to do with my last minute discovery that the season premiere of a certain television program featuring the animated dead was on tonight. Yeah, that's the ticket.
Rolled 71, 38, 73, 2, 6, 9, 86, 95, 42, 32, 82, 23 = 559 (12d100)

Well, time may be short, but we're a nurse, right?
We're not a fighter or a scientist.
Let the others work on trying that.

>>Try to thoughtfully figure out the objects.
Rolled 47, 30, 91, 36, 35, 54, 30, 14, 64, 16, 32, 95 = 544 (12d100)

*pokes dead quest with stick*

>Try to thoughtfully figure out the objects. Roll 12d100.
So what happens with multiple rolls? Do you take the best of each?
>So what happens with multiple rolls? Do you take the best of each?
Wasn't sure.
Always skewing better or worse didn't feel right, the average or mean just makes for boring results, so I weighted the results so that the further from the check point that the roll result was, the more it mattered.
So, the 2 and 95s push the success or failure more than the 54 or 64.
It works for now.
Quest Subjects continues here.

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