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Last time: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2752391/

You are a robotic crab full of missiles and fury in a strange world. See the previous post for details, but it barely matters. This quest is fairly easy going.
---------------------
Race: Mecha-Crab
Class: Missilemancer
Description: A very large, heavily armed robotic(?) coconut crab.

Ranged attack:
Missiles- Guided moderate damage weapons for anything you can't claw slap.
-10 missiles. 5 per claw.
MiniGun- Minigun with a mind of it's own.
-5k Ammo. internally located.

Mid range Attacks:
Spark Breath- Spew out a shower of hot ferrous sparks like an angle grinder or cutting torch.
-Unlimited. Mouth.
Flamethrower- Black napalm, blue flames. Will probably melt steel beams.
-x10 fuel. 5 per claw.

Close in:
Claws. big fucking claws.

Specials-
CWIS x5000
>Devastating minigun defense seemingly with a mind all of it's own. +30 to active defensive rolls. see above.
Micro Missile Massacre x100
>Just like our minigun, but with guided tiny missiles. 50 per claw.
Grid Square Removal x1
>One very big, unguided, rocket. One very big explosion. 1 fixed forward back mounted module.
Hypersonic Missile x1
>non explosive, guided, hit to kill. 1 fixed forward back mounted module.
>>
Nicce crabby is back
>>
>>2816506
How to play:

I include instructions at the bottom of the post, and what I will do. I allow an unlimited amount of players to respond unless otherwise posted. A crit of the request dice is the highest number for success or the lowest for failure. A crit fail will be undone by a crit success.
---
You spend most of the late evening snacking on steel super structure and charred monkey corpses. The raw materials are processed internally, repairing your damage, and restocking a very depleted ammo supply. Idly, you shove a small girder into your mouth, the small cutters and torches make quick work of it.

In the distance there appears to be a cluster of shooting stars from over the horizon...coming right at you. Across your HUD multiple warnings pop off, commenting on velocities and angles that are so technical you fail to understand other than this is not good. One of the missiles has a yellow circle around it with a "NEUTRINO EMISSION" warning. whatever that is.
----
>Dig dig for all you are fucking worth
>Scuttle the hell away
>wait and try to shoot down the Missiles.

Pick 1. roll 1d100
>>
Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>2816565
>wait and try to shoot down the Missiles.

Sniper crab part III
-operation fall out
>>
>>2816565
How to play continued:
I never do a majority wins. Unless I state it on the roll. the highest roll wins.
-------------------------
Pick some music: Roll a 1d100 with your choice. does not stop you from rolling on >>2816565

70s/ 80s Rock covers and Metal
-For the 30 year old boomer

Synthwave/ electronic
-For autstic hackerman

Japanese videogame OST
-For the eternal NEET.

Houseblend
-I'll pick for you.

Fite me u cunt
-Write in with your suggestion.
>>
Rolled 13 (1d100)

>>2816565
>dig bitch
>>
Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>2816612
>some queen would be nice, or maybe anything from this guy

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sZpbCLdg-r8
>>
Rolled 6 (1d100)

>>2816565
>>wait and try to shoot down the Missiles.
>>
Rolled 46 (1d100)

>>2816565
>wait and try to shoot down the Missiles.
>>
Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>2816612
>Initial D soundtrack
>>
>>2816624
>>2816631
>>2816736
>>2816828
>>2816805
We are definitely not digging well.
>Death by suffocation, 2 updates in.
>>
>>2816845
not even sure that we need to breath
>>
>>2817005
We probably don't, in the conventional sense.
We are, however, a presumably liquid-air-cooled cybernetic organism, so we do need airflow to avoid overheating and committing sudoku.
>>
>>2816600
>50 is the current high roll. and its to stand against the missiles.

got a few real life things to do. update in 30-50min. last chances.
>>
Rolled 69 (1d100)

>>2816612
Oh irhgt, a roll.
Also, music for the thread...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=obCngPOLhbI
Weeb-ish but not as much
>>
>>2817122
>69: Highly sexual countermeasures.
The star streaks turn into small specks that rapidly grow in the distance. Now or never you think to yourself as your HUD begins offering shooting solutions. The primary weapon in the cluster is probably a small nuke, the yellow alert icon is now flashing an unhappy orange with a trefoil around it. There is something about 40 gigajoules.

A series of bloops followed by the angry whoosh of solid rockets firing to life indicates successful launch of your missiles. You trust the HUD with your life, and watch with apprehension as your missiles fly off to meet the incoming salvo. Six bright lights streak towards a tight formation of cruise missiles, 5 explosions, numerous puffs of silvery glitter and burning red embers "CHAFF/ FLARE! CHAFF FLARE! CWIS ONLINE." An alarm sounds out of nowhere along with a voice not your own as your minigun comes to life. "INCOMING INCOMING INCOMING BRRRRRRRRR". Your entire shell shakes with an extra long burst of of minigun fire, red tracers streak into the night like a living thing, the sweeping motion carves a snake of light into the sky. Shortly later the shells that missed their mark pop. The other cruise missiles are shredded, and fall harmlessly into the water. Your hud flicks over to nightvision and you are able to track the striken nuke as it spirals away off into the distance. Somewhere behind you is a flash of light that momentarily washes out your sensors with light and radiation. The HUD updates you with the latest. Well. Shit. That could have been bad. Cresting over the horizon, you pick up another launch. There are multiple low yield nukes inbound.

"Improved targeting parameters in progress: 45%
Munitions count
Missiles: 4/10
Minigun:4000/5000

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=heLuUd0VK2s

-Run
-Dig
-Sit and shoot. You have the ammo. Let them know they cant stop you.
>>
>>2817512
>shoot and scoot
>>
Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>2817618
>>
Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>2817618
yeah shoot 'em more
>>
>>2817618
I need dice for round two of shooting and scooting.

1d100
>>
Rolled 77 (1d100)

>>2817647
Don't worry, the light is broken but it still works
>>
Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>2817647
If you insist
>>
Rolled 92 (1d100)

>>2817647
>>
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>>2817676
>92
>>
>>2817737
>>2817676
>92: Euphoria (less than 85 was fucked.)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y8QAeJk3q94

You look at the horizon, the missiles swarming in towards you, with the steeliest of eyes. Hunching down with claws skyward, you fire off everything you have. For 10 glorious seconds you become a very small avatar of war. A hypersonic missile rockets off you, followed quickly by the remaining for conventional units. Close behind that is a swarm of 100 criss crossing, interweaving micro missiles and the big dumb rocket trailing a white cloud into the night. A series of booming explosions light up the night before your CWIS system lets loose another burst of 3000 rounds. A rain of shrapnel falls down around you, the remains of cruise missiles. "Fuck yeah." you burble to yourself. The HUD's radiation counter spikes high, very high. There is fissile material, military grade scrap, and you are hungry. You wait a few moments in restraint. Nothing else seems to be coming.

Minigun: 1000/5000
>Missiles depleted.
---
eat everything and snack on the cities remains,
just eat the fissile material and get out.
eat the scrap and get out.
(and/ or)
Move on (to beach, deeper inland, more jungle)
(or)
(upgrade)

dice+1d100, highest roll determines choices and outcome.
>>
>>2817927
>just eat the fissile material and get out.
Further into jungle
And are big enough to take down trees?
>>
Rolled 72 (1d100)

>>2817927
>just eat the fissile material and get out.
is this missile upgrades?
>>
Rolled 39 (1d100)

>>2817942
Dangernit I forgot to roll
>>
>>2817951
Supportan.
>>
Rolled 15 (1d100)

>>2817927
>just eat the fissile material and get out.
>>
>>2818045
Fuck. Forgot my dice.
>>
Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>2818052
WHAT THE FUCK?
...Whatever. We'll try again.
>>
>>2817951
>72
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zTL5C8lybng
You spot choice morsels of radioactive material dotted in the surrounding area, your hud indicating them for you as waypoints. You pick up chunks of destroyed missiles with shiny chunks of metal that are rapidly corroding in the humid atmosphere. The material is foreboding, you stare at it for a bit before finding your resolve. Executing a pretty good shrug for a crab you shove it in your maw. Down the hatch. So far no ill effects. Scampering from point to point you make quick work of the stuff before every appreciable trace that you can grab is gone. All that is left is a background radiation from particulate pollution. Not much will be growing here for a while. You quickly evacuate the area, and head deeper into the Jungle, wandering for hours as you put distance between yourself and the previous warzone. The trees steadily grow taller, and you spot beasts larger than yourself. Suddenly you are reminded that you are not a giant robotic crab, and avatar of war; you are just...man sized? pig sized? Actually...how big are you? You eventually stumble across the corpse of a man, recently dead. You freak out a little. Despite the tiny monkey genocide, this is different. This is a dude. You nudge his head with your claw, he doesn't stir. He is very white. Sensors say very cold. Its not great, but at least he provides frame of reference, and appears to be taller than you...probably only as tall as his waist. Hmm.
---
>Deep scan the body. (1d100) <investigative>
>Rifle through his belongings and examine the body. Ensure he is dead (1d100) <concerned not at all looter>
>Viking funeral, offer him a prayer and send him to whatever god will have him. (free action.)
>Are...are...you going to eat that dead guy? (1d100) <murder hobo>

highest roll wins.
>>
Rolled 46 (1d100)

>>2818170
>Rifle through his belongings and examine the body. Ensure he is dead
>>
Rolled 58 (1d100)

>>2818170
>Viking funeral, offer him a prayer and send him to whatever god will have him. (free action.)

We must send him off to his god in a shower of sparks! He would have preferred that instead of being eaten by animals piece by piece
>>
Rolled 84 (1d100)

>>2818170
>Deep scan his body
>>
>>2818275
oops kept my old name from sum other thread
Leme just fix that
>>
>>2818275
>>2818283
no worries man
>84
You hud highlights the curled up body, a 2d grid fills in the highlighted outline while a scanline moves across it, then up and down several times. A bunch of medical information flashes over your view that you really dont understand. Almost impatiently your onboard AI directs you. Multiple lacerations, punctures, burns, Hypothermia...wait..wait. corpses dont have hypothermia. He is alive! Barely! But maybe you can do something? While you are frantically looking around, you get a notification from another system. The material has been processed.

I need 1d100, highest roll wins, and determines success of second roll.
>Depleted uranium armor (a hard crab is good to find. Armor value improved.)
>Depleted uranium minigun ammo (full fledged brrrrt. AP value/ armor negation.)
>Improved Booster (Improved Rocket jump. 12 foot jump.)

And

>Start a fire and try to patch him up and keep him warm, then go from there.
>Shit man, you have no idea what you are doing. Throw him on your back, try to keep him warm, and find some humans ASAP.
>Viking funeral anyway.
>>
Rolled 65 (1d100)

>>2818345
>Depleted uranium minigun ammo

>Start a fire and try to patch him up and keep him warm, then go from there
>>
>>2818345
>Eat him.
>You monster.
>>
Rolled 80 (1d100)

>>2818345
>Depleted Uranium armor

>Start a fire and try to patch him up
>>
>>2818367
a small, brief and unsettling cannibalistic urge washes through your mind. "I mean...its not like I'm human." Before you shudder and ignore it.
>>2818371
You work busily, gathering flammable material, and try to spark it before simply dousing the pile in black napalm. The blue flame is incredibly hot, and soon the man is sweating before you drag him away. There is a dim awareness that changes are happening in and on your body, but you are quite busy. Cutting away his bloody clothing you see small spears, pockmarks, and even craters of flesh missing. The damn monkeys. With a degree of precision and finesse unexpected of your huge wrecker claws, you pull out the spears and use the fire to heat up the tip of the claw to a glowing red. "Sorry bro" you think to yourself, before the searing metal is applied to each wound. Saw that shit on Rambo and other flicks. should work. He doesn't even groan. Eventually you notice that you are moving a bit slower, heavier...weird. Your overall shape is a bit boxier here and there, with large slabs of tank like armor covering your form.

>Boosted jump reduced, armor significantly improved.

Somewhere in the distance you hear explosions. They are shelling your previous location. Several bright flashes of light, and a small creeping mushroom cloud in the morning's gloomy horizon tell you that getting out was the right decision. The injured man groans painfully. "Sir...*wheeze*..knight...'ave you any to drink or eat?" Not bad cabman. Just saved a dude and he is talking. You mentally pat yourself on the back. Shit. can you even talk? So far he is mistaking you for an armored knight. Probably still not in a right mind.
----
>Find some nourishment for the dude, stay close.
>Throw him on your back, you have ground to cover before they come looking for you.
>Let him rest till daylight proper.
1d100 please.
>>
Rolled 84 (1d100)

>>2818436
>Find some nourishment for the dude, stay close
This dude is dying
>>
Rolled 30 (1d100)

>>2818436
>Find some nourishment for the dude, stay close
>>2818447
I agree with anon above but after we get him something to drink we should pick a escape option
>>
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Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>2818436
He is wounded and a liability. Snibbity snap his jugular
>>
>>2818459
more dark thoughts. no. stay away dark thoughts.
>>2818447
>84
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rR_dbMvGWAY
Benevolence wins out. You can hold onto being a human. You were a nobody, but you always like to think you were a good guy. right? You exhale a long stream of mechanical smoke. fuck. Find the dude food. People eat. Above you are some trees with fruit that looks good. Your attempt to boost jump causes results in a pathetic hop that doesn't do much. With an irritated slap you wack the tree and numerous fruit falls down, some of it splitting open. Looks legit. probably good. It has a lot of juice in it too.

Overhead you spot something unsettling. A little monkey like the ones you've been fighting. A tiny pair of night vision goggles look back at you. It bolts, but before much else can happen your minigun snaps to life and fires wildly into the tree tops. Well, one thing or another was going to give you away. The tiny corpse comes down in two pieces. Meat. right? A short while later the man is propped up, drinking the fruit juice through half lidded eyes, and trying to eat the pulp. Soon the smell of charred flesh reaches him. "Bless you good Knight. I see you are great, but my eyes fail me yet. You do not speak." you click your claws together in frustration. No voice..yet. "..A vow of silence, out here? Are you *cough* Errant?" you just clang your claw once against your shell. "I..see.." he eats the flesh of the small monkey eagerly. "We, we must make haste from this place. The hated many will be upon us soon, with their foul weapons. Already they have established a foothold on our land from across the sea. I..I need to get back, to the order. Here! HERE!" he becomes frantic, fumbling at his pockets, or where they should be. "My clothes! my map! the tools!" you push the pile of rags to him. "My...clothes...hmm. I see." He fishes around in a crude flapped pocket, eventually proffering a crumpled map to you. It is poorly drawn, and stained with blood, but you understand the basics. Or at least your onboard AI does. Soon the HUD offers up a directional arrow for you to follow. His head hangs, holding a pile of crushed glass, wood and metal "My spectacles, my weapon...have been destroyed..." his attempt to get up is wobbly like a baby deer, and soon he falls over.
---
>Stay and wait for the fight.
>Throw the man on your shell, and make haste. Crab haste.
>Attempt to repair his equipment. quickly.
>>
Rolled 92 (1d100)

>>2818536
>Throw the man on your shell, and make haste, crab haste.
>>
Rolled 51 (1d100)

>>2818536
>Throw the man on your shell, and make haste. Crab haste.
>>
>>2818558
>92
You chatter your mouthparts and claws; there isin't enough time to fuck around. Hauling the man onto your back, you realize you have now had balls on your shell, but still felt no boob. He yelps in shock. This is not great. not great at all. "Knight..." your left claw keeps him secure while your right smashes aside vegetation and minor obstacles in your way. "...I suspect...you are not..oh WAHH" he nearly falls off before you catch him without breaking pace. "I suspect...you are not a normal man. With this...shape of yours." No shit. "Im a fucking crab" Is what you would say. Instead you just clank your mouth and carry on. Periodic bursts from your booster help propel your heavy mass forward, and within several hours of a breakneck crab scuttle, you have crossed out of the jungle and onto the open plains. In the distance you spot a large, LARGE settlement. Castle, Walls, little hamlets. all that good fantasy shit. There are even horses. No way. Super cool. You geek out a little bit before remembering there is a naked dude carrying an urgent message. Closer to you is a small village, daily activity just starting. A little bit further away is a guard outpost of some kind.
----
>To the village! They will likely have supplies the man needs.
>Guard shack! They will be able to pass on his message faster.
>To the Castle proper! The man must be taken to the highest authority!
>>
Rolled 9 (1d100)

>>2818629
>To the Castle proper! The man must be taken to the highest authority!
The king will surely reward us with gold
>>
>>2818629
ok idk what to chose soo ill leave it to other anons exept murderous anon
>>
>>2818629
>To the Castle proper! The man must be taken to the highest authority!
>>
>>2818629
(i gtg ill check the thread later, Cya fellow anons)
>>
>>2818690
I forgot how to roll
>>
Rolled 31 (1d100)

>>2818696
>>2818690
Nvm I'm good
>>
>>2818709
>>2818642
He's dead for sure now
>>
>>2818709
>>2818709
>31. Riches and accolades for sure.
News of you reaches the castle long before you do. Rumors of an insane naked man atop a metallic war beast. You are greeted by an understandably hostile force of guardsmen. A few of the archers who have bows pointed at you would have made you laugh if not for the fact that the arrows glow with green flames, and the archers are in fact fucking elves. Holy shit. Elves. This is cool. Your nerding out again. Your claws were clicking on their own.

"Investigator Horvalt?! Is that you?" An ornate figure's voice booms out deeply. "Bryern! I can't see. The damn creatures, the many, nearly killed me, if not for this brave knight I have with me." ..."Horvalt. That is no knight, and from the looks of it, may very well be an agent of the enemy..."

Thinking better of it, you carefully move the man off your shell and push him towards his people. "...can't detain him, he saved me." ..."Its a giant crab!" the two men go over the nuances of your detainment and fate as you slowly back away. Your hud reads 4/10 missiles, and 50/100 micro missiles. It would seem you slowly regenerate ammunition as long as you are fed.

>Crab escape.
>Wait to see how it turns out
>Scan the horizon for the enemy.

dice+1d100
>>
Rolled 86 (1d100)

>>2818727
>Wait to see how it turns out
What are they gonna do? Shoot me?
>>
Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>2818727
>Scan the horizon for the enemy.
>>
>>2818734
>86 Patience Prevails

"Alright. We take the thing with us, and the captain hears you out." The ornate and large man hops off his high horse, both literally and figuratively "Alright thing. Do you understand me?" You snap your claws twice. "That a yes then?" twice more. "Alright. Follow us, don't try to run, don't try to cause trouble. Do it and your metal skin will eat enchanted arrows. ELF MAGIC." You really dont understand the threat, and most of your knowledge of elves came from 4chan...and hentai. These elves do not look like they are for what do though. hmm. Elf archers, wat do? You cackle to yourself for a moment, mouthparts clanking away. The knight looks at you for a moment. "Behave eh?" It would seem Horvalt had been given some clothing and replacement spectacles while you were waiting. He approaches you with great curiosity, sketching your form on parchment, and making many notes.

"You...are...marvelous. Yes. Clearly there are design elements similar to the enemy, but you are foreign. There is script on you, like our runes, but not the same. Close though.Hmm." Your optics whirr as you focus at him, and then over his shoulder at elf tiddy. His face moves right in front of you before you try to get creative with multispectral filtering. Come the fuck on man. You angrily snap your claw, which comes across as a very loud clank, as if a boat anchor was dropped onto a slab of steel. "Oh. Sorry friend crab knight! I must respect your space." The elf is gone.
\;-_-;/ *sigh*. "At any rate, I know you to be a just and good character. You offer him another chunk of roasted monkey which pops out of storage from within your mouth. "I uhh..ate...this? I see. Thank..thank you." He seems a bit greener for it. "I need to run." curiously he takes the lower half of the primate with him. All around you the small force is mobilizing, preparing for the long journey back. Several attempts are made to load you onto various wooden carts which either break or cause the wheels to sink into the soft earth. It would seem you are walking. Dashing far off is a very fast horse and very small man, no doubt a messenger. The rest of the force is not far behind, which reveals your traveling party. Horvalt, Bryern, A very large, overly muscled Minotaur who might be able to fuck you up, elven archer of androgynous composition, and a very large woman who is a head shorter than the minotaur but built similarly. Aside from the horns. and face. and teeth. "Well. Lets get a move on. We've not all day eh, Magnavax?" The giant bull man responds "Cut the chat Investigator. You pay me to fight, not be a courtesan." and with that, you seem to be following them. down a long ass dirt road.
---
>walk. walk walk walk.
>Attempt to examine the party. who?
>vigilant: scan the skies.
>see if you can walk and access the upgrade menu.

1d100. please.
>>
Rolled 5 (1d100)

>>2818840
>see if you can walk and access the upgrade menu.
>>
Rolled 82 (1d100)

>>2818851
What he Said
>>
>>2818861
You focus long and hard. For a while nothing comes. Just the hydraulic hissing of your leg pistons. Eventually though you notice a grey grainy static washing over your field of view. The surroundings aren't entirely gone, but then the upgrade menu isn't entirely opaque.

>You have one CONTEXT SENSITIVE upgrade point
>Voice: Gain the ability to talk. that cant be understated. littleGM pun. fufufufufu.
>Improved sensors: Long range sensors, deep scanning sensors, perhaps...x ray sensors <please benevolent crab force>.
>Lore probes: shoot something, do no damage, learn valuable lore.

Well. Shit. this is interesting.
----
>Roll 1d100 to see how well these gifts work, and pick one.
>>
Rolled 56 (1d100)

>>2818943
I guess we can talking, for ease of life and for shits and giggles
>>
Rolled 33 (1d100)

>>2818943
>Voice: Gain the ability to talk. that cant be understated.
>>
Rolled 57 (1d100)

>>2818943
>Improved sensors

All for NonGent
And the crab force
>>
>>2818943
I think that you should probably wait for your next post OP

I think there's only two peeps postin
>>
Rolled 1 (1d100)

>>2818943
Voice: Gain the ability to talk. that cant be understated.
>>
>>2818986
Faak
>>
Rolled 62 (1d100)

>>2818943
>Voice: Gain the ability to talk. that cant be understated
BAWK BAWK BAWK!
>>
Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>2818943
voice......
>>
>>2818986
>You get a voice but it's that of an annoying anime schoolgirl.
>>
>>2819048
I honestly wonder if QM is trying to figure out how to use your nat 1 or is legitimately asleep.
>>
>>2818986
>We get a voice
>Evil. As. Fuck.
>>
Rolled 72 (1d100)

>>2818943
>>Lore probes: shoot something, do no damage, learn valuable lore.
Gotta probe them friendly elves tits
>>
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>>2818986
>>
>>2818986
Our voice seeps into their mind causing only madness and insanity
>>
Rolled 11 (1d100)

>>2818943
Improved Sensors
>>
Rolled 88 (1d100)

>>2818943
>>Improved sensors: Long range sensors, deep scanning sensors, perhaps...x ray sensors <please benevolent crab force>.

Who needs lore probes when you can see through clothing!?

The side effect of radiation poisoning from X-ray is a minor detail. A lil' cancer won't hurt elves right?
>>
>>2818986
>Nat 1: WHAT HAVE YOU DONE! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!!
>>2819054
nah man i was asleep.

Reaching into your deepest wishes, you are granted a voice. Components shift and relocate within your body, gradually forming directional speakers. As you walk you decide to speak, and calmly try to get the attention of the group "Fuck me. Those titties are enormous."you blurt out. Oh shit. Everyone stopped dead in their tracks, the giant crab has tinny metallic voice, and it spoke vulgarity. Raising your claws in a placating gesture you try again "What I wanted to say is that I would motorboat them until my skull shattered." Horvalt looks at you while the large red skinned woman and scowls and you elicit a laugh from the Minotaur "The crab speaks, and is the best of you all! HAHA I've not an idea of this motorboat, but it is best to shatter skulls! On udders no less! HA" why hadn't you taken the X-ray vision? The regret is real.
....
....
Your crab face glows slightly red from exess internal heat radiating out through to your metallic skin. A butterfly lands on you and busts into flames. Why cant there be a real shame cube. fuck. Horvalt comes to your aid, seeming to understand something is wrong. "How about we introduce ourselves?"
----
>Let the group go through the rounds as you walk.
>Take another vow of silence.
>Try to apologize.

dice+1d100
>>
Rolled 83 (1d100)

>>2819454
>Let the group go through the rounds as you walk.
>>
Rolled 19 (1d100)

>>2819454
> I am Crab MecCrabski and I am a Heavy Metal Knight.
>>
Rolled 63 (1d100)

>>2819454
>>Let the group go through the rounds as you walk.
>>
>>2819464
You scuttle along as quiet as possible, your hydraulics hissing. You catch the names

Horvalt- An investigator for the royal family. Slightly younger than Bryern, but not by much. He is some sort of secret police more than anything, but is surprisingly friendly and easy to talk to, or at least listen. You really have no idea what his skillsets are.

Bryern- A subcommander of the local knights, male. Older, but not as old as he gives off. The best you can tell he is in his late 30s. Highly ornate and enchanted armor. A little uptight, but he let a few jokes slip, and makes many oaths to several entities. Horvalt called him a paladin, but Bryern brushed aside the comment.

Magnavax- Minotaur. Huge as fuck. Does not like to make plesantries, the most you caught is that he feels most people are dishonest with their words and displays. Is a mercenary. While being huge as fuck, he has a fuckhuge axe.

Addicus- The elf. You still have no idea if this thing is a dude or a chick, even after it took off the hood, and you suspect the elf enjoys giving people that mystery. Akbar help us, this might be a trap. Does seem to enjoy playing music, and singing. which helps. you guess.

Gretta- Gretta is apparently an ogre. Rounded out nub like horns protrude from her forehead, and some pretty wicked tusks peek past her lips. Despite her big club and wild appearance, she is a healer. You already commented earlier to the appearance, which seems to be causing some residual flustering.

They finally get to you.

>Just tell the truth
>Bravado
>Evade evade.
>Just stay silent

dice+1d100
>>
Rolled 72 (1d100)

>>2819541
>Evade Evade.
Shift subject! Ask if addicus has balls or not!
>>
Rolled 86 (1d100)

>>2819541
>Just tell the truth
>Bravado
WE SHALL TELL THEM THE GLORIES OF HOW WE PUT TO THE FLAME THE MONKEY CIVILIZATIONS! And defeated a enemy crab with the power of seduction
>>
Rolled 85 (1d100)

>>2819541
>dice+1d100
Fuck if I know.
Woke up on the beach, started eating stuff then wandered into the little simian territory.
Fucking micromonkies, I'm glad I destroyed one of their cities. The little cunts
>>
Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>2819541
>>Bravado
Try to find boobs on Addicus.
>>
>>2819567
Hmm
Okay
>>
>>2819567
On one hand I'm sad that We'll never speak of the Crab Assassination Via Mating Event.
On the other hand, We'll now know if the Elf has boobs.
>>
Rolled 10 (1d100)

>>2819541
>>2819604
Not if i do a save throw
>Just stay silent
No lewd shit here
>>
>>2819609
A good attempt, but don't quit your day job.
>>
>>2819609
>>2819614
fug
>>
Rolled 54 (1d100)

>>2819567
OH MY GOD

EVERT EVERT

>Just tell the truth
>>
>>2819681
Welp, we're an involuntarily perverted robot crab now
>>
>>2819567
>95 how the fuck am i going to pull this off.
>Bravado
"So Crab. What of your exploits?" The Minotaur stops dead in its tracks and turns to you, a slightly cruel grin on it's face. You were trying to not talk. So hard. just trying to keep to yourself. He seems to know.

You look at the ground and snap your calws a few times before Addicus goads you. "Come now Ser Crab, lets not be coy, we all have shown our souls...I showed you mine. Now show us yours?" Bryern is your most unlikely defender "ELF. We talked, there was no meeting of spirits. For the sake of the elder gods, cease your insane word play." ... "Mhhhf. If you insist Ser Knight." Addicus crosses (her?) arms.

Finally Gretta squats down in front of you, meeting at eye level "Alright. Out with it, or i'll brain ya here and now." Your hud momentarily outlines her cleavage. niceeee. Alright. You might not be able to exactly say what you want, but lets give it a go.

"I'll tell you who I am motherfuckers! I'm BAD, IM BAD! IM THE BADDEST MOTHERFUCKER IN THE WOOOORLD. I'm a berserk packin crab and half. Was a dude once from ANOTHER PLANET and a meteor crushed my shit! Know what? I didn't even give a fuck. Got reborn as a crab! HACKED THE SYSTEM! Now im a robotcrab with enough ordinance to eradicate a tiny monkey city, and you know what? Thats exacta-fucking-ly what I did. Killed their crabs, killed them, burned it all. Shot down their nukes. CRAB. I'm FUCKING AMAZING." You do an impressive pose and let out a horrific "WRRRRYYY" and then spew flames several meters into the air from both your claws.

The entire party is staring at you in abject shock. You scuttle up to Addicus and poke it in the chest. There is something kinda soft? Maybe? you really have no idea. that didn't help, the quilted armor throws off a lot. Soon the Minutaur is bellowing in laughter, falling to the ground while the ogre whispers to the knight. "Ser Crab. I'd take you for a jester save for the fact that you find your own words true. Perhaps you are a madman."
>>
>>2819855
>Perhaps you are a mad man

is it true madness if the world is more insane than we are?
>>
>>2819855
Id say he is a fuckin madman
>>
>>2819855
"Crab and a half. Erm. As it were. You seem to have a very bombastic personality. It may be best when we meet the lord commander for you to play the part of mute" Bryern echos from his ornate helm. "I've..no idea to half of what you said, but you make prodigious claims of martial prowess, and are clearly a sorcerer or no small capability, or mundane background." Horvalt fills the silence "What Bryern was attempting to say is, you are now a royal conscript. You could refuse, but it would be...you would be slain on the spot. You are a bit dangerous to wander around, and I personally suspect you are under a curse of some form."
----
>accept conscription, for now.
>Hell no. Bluff away.
>fight your way away.

1d100.
>>
Rolled 16 (1d100)

>>2819873
......Are you fucking serious? we just claimed to murder a bunch of nuke throwing bitches and you seek the threaten us?

motherfucker time to go kaiju again, mini kaiju

Fight our way out
>>
Rolled 14 (1d100)

>>2819873
>Hell no. Bluff away.
WE'LL WORK FOR FULL PAY LIKE A PROPER ADVENTURER OR THERE WILL BE HELL TO PAY!
>>
>>2819893
What he said becouse swords and glowy arows still cant pen Fucking depleted uranium
>>
Rolled 48 (1d100)

>>2819898
leme just roll
>>
Rolled 6 (1d100)

>>2819873
Inform them kindly no, then if they continue to push, blast them.
>>
>>2819893
and as an ammendum, just kill the bloke who mentioned death and ask the others if they want to mention trying to kill us again or if we should continue on our way?
>>
Rolled 45 (1d100)

Rolling for the sake of rolling
IGNORE ME!
>>
>>2819893
I find it a bit funny that the first person we tried to save and be nice to is essentially attempting to forcibly recruit us against our will despite the fact that we save their fucking life.
>>
>>2819951
So sad
>>2819873
Too bad we can't upgrade our flame breath with nuclear fire.
>>
>>2819958
That's the Darwin Awards for ya.
>>
>>2819951
oh well, now we get to consume him and grow bigger and then claim what we gave up.......size and biomass.

though i do hope we get some more agility/speed for our troubles.
>>
>>2819967
Perhaps the ability to mimic other voices?
>>
>>2819967
What if we eat one of the glowing arrows?
>>
>>2819987
If we eat the minotaur, would we gain a better sense of direction in mazes or just a boost in strength?
>>
>>2819972
meh, this foray has taught us all we need to know about these sort of people. that if we act nicely to others, then it will simply not be repaid. We no longer need a voice except to scream of our betrayal.

>>2819987
fucked if i know. all i know of is it will be fun.
>>
>>2820000
Well to be fair, we did rescue a bootlicker of the king. So it's to be expected that he'd be a cocksucker of the shittiest quality.
>>
>>2820012
Real life popped up. I'll be back in a few. feel free to continue voting. The entertainment value is there.
>>
Rolled 29 (1d100)

>>2819873
>fight your way away.

ONE SMOL MISSILE TO EACH FOOL.
>>
>>2820044
to the eyes
>>
A real shame we gonna have to shoot up the ogre.
>>
>>2820091
There will be finer waifus with God Tier tiddies to gaze upon in other pastures.
>>
>>2820091
not nessererily.

While i am not opposed to murder, we only need to kill the knight and secret police agent. the others can be spoken with
>>
>>2820099
I agree
>>
>>2820114
Oh yes, killing people is gonna win over the healer.
>>
>>2820125
Killing people will win over the healer?
Slime quest? Healslut?
>>
>>2820125
Never said it would win them over, i said they could be talked to..........If they don't comply then we could just gimp em and let them live.
>>
>>2820146
Then we could just as well gimp the others as well.
>>
>>2820155
well we need to eat someone, and those guys started this mess
>>
>>2820164
Eating a fleshy being after speccing into robotics?
You just want us to rust.
>>
>>2820169
Interesting thought to bring up.
Since there was mention of the existence of Sorcerers and curses, that means that there are magic wielders. Which means we'll have more chances to get magic to use alongside our missiles.
>>
>>2820169
Or i want us to use bio-fuel. we ate monkey corpses didn't we.

And besides, we are eating everything of the dead.
>>
>>2820182
I thought the green glowing arrows were the first sign of magic, the second being the elves.
But yes, I do want to be able to cast magic missile along side the more mundane counterpart.
>>2820185
Good point
>>
>>2820195
Of course there is the presence of magic, but I'm talking full fledged magic wielders with countless years of experience.
We eat one of those suckers and we'll already start skipping the boring parts for the ones that we can use just by simple memory absorption like a space marine.
>>
FAKING PUSSIES WANTING MAGIC. BULLETS KILL WIZARDS ALL THE SAME AAAAA. NO MAGIC CAN RESIST MY NUCLEAR DICKKK
>>
>>2820219
But anon, us crab beings don't have a dick.
>>
>>2820219
>Implying I don't want both
>>
>>2819898
you are surrounded by powerful adventurers three of which are melee within striking or charging distance, and have rolled a 48 for your opener instead of escaping by playing along if need be. This is your will my players?
>>
>>2820226
Its probably their will.
>>
Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>2820249
How about
Agree till we meet lord commander, then kill and eat him and assume controll of the kingdom?
>>
>>2820249
unless we can re roll, yes.
>>
Rolled 65 (1d100)

>>2819873
>Hell no. Bluff away.WAAAAAAAIT
>>
All is good.
>>
>>2820224
And they usually don't have vocal cords, let alone ones complex enough to allow for actual spoken language. Never say never and don't let your dreams be dreams, even if they be a working human phallus shaped vibrating foot long penis with a powerful warhead.
>>
>>2820249
.....I'll just go along with conscription I guess
>>
>>2820249
Unless we're allowed to reroll we're pretty much at a impasse.
So the real question is are you willing to give us a reroll because of how shit the situation is in your own viewpoint.
>>
>>2820330
I think it's pretty obvious he's giving us the chance to back down, probably best not to play chicken with the QM here.
>>
>>2820330
welp, that guy bluffed us out>>2820288
>>
>>2820338
Kinda hard to "back down" when I was one of the people voting for something other than direct combat.

>>2820340
Thank goodness.
>>
Rolled 91 (1d100)

>>2819873
>Bluff
>>
>>2820390
Oh thank heavens, a good roll.
>>
>>2820400
Agreed.
>>
>>2820400
Yeah, glad I remembered we could keep rolling if you didn't roll yet.
>>
Rolled 40 (1d100)

>>2818943
>Voice
>>
Rolled 2 (1d5)

>>2820356
got you covered.
>>2820390
>91: well fuck. now to stack this with broken speech.

"Fuck no. Not a charity and spectacles owes me one already." You strike your claw across the cobblestone pathway, gouging stone and sending sparks flying. The other claw does a pretty good impression of a throat cutting motion. Horvalt looks at you with a degree of intensity for a moment "Addicus. Show him our points." A series of arrows expertly fly at you, and ricochet cleanly off, leaving metallic streaks on your armor. "Nope." you calmly reply. None of this shit is exactly what you want to say, its like there is a filter set to crazy. You attempt to be diplomatic and bluff your way out.

"I come in peace. I didn’t bring artillery. But I’m pleading with you, with tears in my eyes: If you fuck with me, I’ll kill you all. "...that will work too. Thanks James Mattis. To punctuate the point every single one of your missiles ever so slightly bulges from their launch cells. "Equal pay or I'm audi5000 bitches."

Bryern puts his hand in front of Horvalt, "I've this one old friend." he steps forward, gleaming, every part the knight. "Best one of us here and now." He pulls out a small wooden 5 sided dice and throws it in the air. "Twoud' seem you do combat with..."
>>
>>2821666
>2>Bryern
"...none other than myself!" Bryern charges at you, a soft blue aura enveloping him, while his sword busts into a light that would make a plasma cutter blush.

"Best put on your 3d glasses because I'm coming at you!" is your worthy reply. You really need to fix the voice module issue.
---
>Missiles
>Minigun and melee
>Hypersonic missile (strong AP value, high DC)
>Minigun, fight defensibly with CWIS. +30
>Dumbfire rocket (high DC high damage)

1d100 please
>>
Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>2821675
>>Minigun and melee
>>
Rolled 73 (1d100)

>>2821675
>>
Rolled 14 (1d100)

>>2821675
>Minigun and melee
>>
>>2821705
throw a choice in there and we are good to go.
>>
>>2821705
>>2821704
modified highest named roll with highest roll.
>73: Minigun and melee.

Less than a day ago, you were a powerful avatar of destruction, wrecking a city, and fighting off a small military. Now you are fighting a magical knight. Life is weird like that.

Your minigun angrily spews out hot lead, causing the strange blue aura around the knight to flare over and over, growing more and more dim as you slowly walk backwards. As he closes in you lash out with a massive claw that he attempts to cut off. *CLANG* You are armored in more than just a few millimeters of steel or iron. His sword does manage to gouge fairly deeply, but not enough to actually do any structural damage. Gazing with unmitigated fury, you backclaw Bryern with enough force that it sounds like you hit a dull bell. He staggers away, dropping his sword and casting some sort of regenerative magic on himself.
----
>eat sword.
>attack unarmed knight
>the fight is concluded.

dice+1d100, make a choice.
>>
Rolled 65 (1d100)

>>2821735
>>eat sword.
>>
Rolled 65 (1d100)

>>2821735
>eat sword
>>
Rolled 61 (1d100)

>>2821735
>>
>>2821735
>Nom the Suhword
>>
Rolled 58 (1d100)

>>2821755
>>
>>2821735
>eat sword
My bad
>>
Rolled 7 (1d100)

>>2821738
>>2821741
Cant really ignore those sequential digits.
>65

Ambulating over to the sword, you pick it up with a claw and look at it offhandedly. With a quick impression of a sword sallower, the 3 and a half foot long sword is gone. You feel energy coursing through your body, untapped potential, but it will have to wait. "CRAB! YOU DO ME A DISHONOR!" Shaking your claw at him you respond "Better than doing your mother!" The elf is snickering and the Minotaur is holding onto his axe for balance while he laughs. He lashes out with his fist, an impressive wave of force knocks you end over end, cracking optics and shaking your frame. The HUD jitters and flickers for a moment before giving you a solid target lock.

>Mini missile massacre
>Dumbfire rocket
>hypersonic
>Flamethrowers, long burst.

pick one and roll a 1d100, beat my dice.
>>
>>2821791
Tell him "Alright now I'm pissed" before setting the fucker on fire
>>
>>2821816
Whoops forgot to roll
>>
Rolled 69 (1d100)

>>2821791
Shower this MOFO with sparks. He doens't worth it.
>>
Rolled 19 (1d100)

>>2821791
>Flamethrowers, long burst
>>
>>2821826
support
>>
>>2821865
roll! roll 1d100 with your support. These are not votes! There are fight between men to get to choose the fate of the crab
>>
Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>2821865
>>
>>2821826
>69vs7
Bryern walks towards you with cold menace, his fists are glowing again. "Get ready fool. That sword had been in my family since my great, great uncle who fought in the first outer wars."

"Skeet skeet fucker!" You spew a shower of hot metallic filings into his helmets visor with surprising accuracy. "ARRGgh MY EYES!" he falls to the ground pawing at his helmet, trying to get it off, all the magic and menace flooding away from him as you flip yourself over. As he writes about you do an impressive grandstand. His party members surround him and manage to get his helm off, revealing a red and blistered face, with two bleeding and swollen shut eyes. "He blinded him" the Minotaur rumbled.The ogress scowled at you before enveloping the knight's face in an bath of green light, injuries vanishing. "My thanks good woman." Bryern cracked a small grin and winked with fresh eyes. She blushed at that. Crab observation noted.

"Twould seem...you are a powerful if degenerate combatant, unlike any i've met before. I was bested soundly by you, though make no mistake, my sword was of great value. A rare metal capable of channeling my order's magic and withstanding it's fury." He frowns at the thought. Pale blue eyes sit in a weathered face with close cropped wheat colored hair.

"Enough." the spymaster pushes his spectacles up on his nose "let us be on our way. We can rest for the day at the outer hamlet before we continue on.

There is much banter during the walk. The Minotaru has taken a solid shine to you, but you doubt he would hesitate to carry out a write of execution either. This place is unreal. The fantasy element is so strange in contrast to what you experienced earlier. You take a minute to observe the sunset over wheat fields. Your optics whiring as they focus for optimal appreciation.

Addicus stops next to you "Tis quaint but worth saving. Truth be told though..between you and I. I just like to kill. The small monkey creatures, men, giants. Matters not. Two legged prey is the most exciting. Though I may have to make exception someday for six." the elf grins from behind it's hood. "Slut Whore." you burt out. Addicus responds "Both, when the opportunity presents itself." You rattle your shell, repair systems still buffing out the damage from earlier, and trek on.

In the early evening you finally arrive. To call this place a hamlet is an understatement; it is more of a small town, nestled just outside the City proper's massive stone walls, and beyond that the towering peaks of a fantastic castle. The party breaks up, going their own ways.
---
>Follow the Minotaur, Magnavax and Elf, Addicus: Brothel and Tavern.
>Follow Horvalt and Bryern: Inn and Spell Sage
>Follow Gretta: Sneaking off.
>Go exploring on your own. Its a big town. There may be something to eat, or loot. or both.

1d100
>>
>>2821897
>>Go exploring on your own. Its a big town. There may be something to eat, or loot. or both.

I really want to find the elv's gender but... there may be more tits in this town, besides the ones we have marvelled already.
>>
File: Spoiler Image (571 KB, 635x896)
571 KB
571 KB PNG
Rolled 78 (1d100)

>>2821903
FINE. DICE. tit dice
>>
Rolled 3 (1d100)

>>2821897
>>Go exploring on your own. Its a big town. There may be something to eat, or loot. or both.
Also, try to levlup while we are walking around.
>>
Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>2821897
>Go exploring on your own. Its a big town. There may be something to eat, or loot. or both.
>>
>>2821905
You wander off on your own, crossing the packed dirt streets that are mostly empty. Those that pay attention to you give wide berth. Eventually you find a local map with words and icons. While you cannot read their text, you can decipher the general ideas.
---

>beer mug
>Woman outline
>bath house
>sword and hammer
>Jewlery and lightning
>Pick axe and rock
>glaring knight helmet
>Pile of gold bars

Where to?
>>
>>2821930
>>sword and hammer
Let's go and get a shitty sword to replace the one we ate...
>>
>>2821933
You Make quick work towards what is probably an armory or smithy or some other medieval bullshit. Eventually you resort to climbing up onto the rooftops hoping none of the cave in. Small puffs from your jump thrusters give away your position in the night sky. Eventually you make it to the location of the store and look in. There seems to be various bits of glowing armor, flickering in the dark. You could break in...
---
>break in through the front
>Go in through the roof.
>naw man. stealing is wrong.

1d100 and a choice.
>>
Rolled 66 (1d100)

>>2821942
>>Go in through the roof.
Be quiet we are very stelthy crab.
>>
Rolled 14 (1d100)

>>2821942
>naw man. stealing is wrong.
>>
>>2821942
>naw man. stealing is wrong.
besides swords are shit just go in and have a browse maybe we can talk to the weapon smith and teach him how to make a gun its useless if we are fighting against techno monkeys
>>
Rolled 79 (1d100)

>>2821948
oops
>>
>>2821948
its just better to ask for metal scrap and a sack if he has any
>>
>>2821949
You jump down from the rooftops, landing heavily onto the street below. A few ragged cloth curtains slide open revealing peeping eyes. mostly children.

The steps up to the shop creak heavily and with a degree of care, you rap at the door with your claw. It still splinters a bit. "Fuck off!" you knock a bit harder "AY fuck! Ave ya any idea the hour!?" A man shouts as he stomps to the door and swings it open. "MERCIFUL FUCK! What the hell are you?"

"Blow it out your ass. I'm a crab. I've got balls of steel." damnit. duke quotes. He just stares at you. "We require additional minerals!" starcraft. "Minerals? Listen here ya freak, the miner's guild is down the street, ts' where I get all my ingots...but hmm. yeah. Ya look plenty strong. I'll tell ya what. You want minerals eh? Come on in and see my set up crab-o."

You follow the man, past racks and racks of glowing and runic armors, fantastic swords, and more. "I've got this here metal, what fell from the sky. I cant make much use of it as it is, but maybe you with those big wife beaters of yours can flatten it?" Do that, and I'll have scrap, ore, and more work if ya want it.
---
>Do the smiths bidding, building a base of allies is good.
>Knock the smith out and eat everything, getting bigger is good too.

1d100 for action.
>>
Rolled 63 (1d100)

>>2821984
>>
>>2821990
>Do the smiths bidding, building a base of allies is good.
>>
Rolled 75 (1d100)

>>2821984
>Do the smiths bidding, building a base of allies is good.
>>
Rolled 23 (1d100)

>>2821984
>Do the smiths bidding, building a base of allies is good.
>>
File: 13844378826990.png (49 KB, 180x204)
49 KB
49 KB PNG
Rolled 41 (1d100)

>>2821984
>>Do the smiths bidding, building a base of allies is good.
>>
>>2821996
>75

You and the smith spend the next hour pounding away at the strange metal, his furnace struggling to reach a temperature high enough to even soften it. That is until you use your own flamethrower to add to the mix. Massive claws work just as well as hammers, and your hydraulically assisted pinch also aids in crushing the metal into something workable for him. Despite the best efforts, this is not a perfect process, and the end results are not exactly great. A longsword that is impossibly durable, but it's edge is better suited as a hammer, and the entire thing looks like it was pinched by a crab. because it was. A helmet in similar condition, and set of nice looking knives.

You take the sword as payment, and are escorted into a shed out back full of rusted, malformed, or otherwise undesirable equipment. To his shock the smith watches as you tear into the old gear and rotting leathers with gusto. Soon hundreds of pounds of equipment is processed down into robocrab food, and you feel the desperate need to slumber. On a whim, you consume the "long-sword" of strange metal as well. Several of your internal saws pop and break teeth on it, but eventually you choke the thing down.

Sleep overtakes you, and familiar screen is available
-----
+++Growth points
>Size up
Get a little bigger and all around better.
>Repair system and fabrication system
ability to rapidly self repair on command, as well as quickly fabricate known objects from a database.
>repair voice module
get ability to take sensibly.
>Improved robotics
not too sure, but it seems interesting.
>Improved minigun
Better minigun
+++Alloy Bonus
>Armor +
Armor continues to harden.
>booster+
Gain improve boost jumps.
>Spark breath+
Torrential blast of sparks, no longer incapacitating, but outright deadly. Thermite breath.

Choose 3. Roll 1d100. highest roll wins the pot.
>>
Rolled 75 (1d100)

>>2822026
>>Repair system and fabrication system
>>Improved minigun>>
>>Spark breath+
>>
Rolled 75 (1d100)

>>2822026
>That entire fight
You have outdone yourself again Crab QM. Accept this moment of happiness from me.

>>2822026
>Size up
>Improved robotics
>Improved minigun

Dakka dakka dakka!
>>
Rolled 99 (1d100)

>>2822026
>size up
>Repair and fabricate
>Booster
>>
>>2822068
And the dubble 9s have it.
>>
>>2822026
>Repair system and fabrication system
>Improved robotics
>Armor +
>>
>>2822075
let be the most tanky there ever was
>>
Rolled 3 (1d100)

>>2822026
>Repair system and fabrication system
>Improved robotics
>Armor +
>>
Rolled 86 (1d100)

>>2822075
>>
>>2822026
>Repair system and fabrication system
>>Improved robotics
>>Spark breath+
>>
Rolled 75 (1d100)

>>2822112
>>2822026
Forgot dice
>>
Rolled 76 (1d100)

>>2822026
hnnngg I want a super 1d100!

¿¡Where are the missile upgrades!?

>Improved robotics
>Armor +
>Repair system and fabrication system

100! dice 100 go!
>>
Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>2822026
>Repair system and fabrication system
>repair voice module
>Improved robotics
>>
Rolled 41 (1d100)

>>2822179
>>
>>2822068
>99 hurf. those are good repeating digits.
>size up
>Repair and fabricate
>Booster

It is dawn, and you have roused from your torpor. The shed seems smaller. More cramped. However you know that is BS. You have become HUGE. Ok, not really huge, but you gained some mass since last time. All the scrapes and damage of yesterday are gone, and your hud has a conspicuous bar at the bottom for booster. "overheat". You are also stuck.
---
>Eat your way out.
>Just boost out.
>try to go out without totally destroying the shed.

a choice and 1d100 please.
>>
Rolled 16 (1d100)

>>2822469
>try to go out without totally destroying the shed.
>>
Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>2822469
>try to go out without totally destroying the shed.

Trying to eat our way out will end with the smith being pissed and boosting our way out will probably catch the hut on fire and destroy it as well. I kinda want to ask if we can just wait here till the smith comes back and ask what he would like to do.
>>
Rolled 66 (1d100)

>>2822469
>>try to go out without totally destroying the shed.
WE SHALL HAVE THE GRACE OF A DANCER AND THE ZEN OF ALL THE MASTER KUNG FU ARTISTS IN THE WORLD!
>>
>>2822469
Try not to break the shed
>>
>>2822481
>66 More dubs. how powerful

You carefully, almost painstakingly destroy the doors of the shed. If you were to guess you are probably around the Ogre or Minotaur's height now. "AY yer fuckin awake then? How about puttin those mits to use makin some new equipment for what all ya ate?"
---
>No. find party.
>Party will find me. Yes.
-Make medieval weaponry.
-Make modern weaponry.
-Make mostly medieval weaponry, and a sword to replace the one you ate.

and anons. ill be back later to do an update.
>>
Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>2822469
no break

if we do break, we eat
>>
Rolled 20 (1d100)

>>2822501
>make mostly medival weaponry and a replacement sword......
>>
Rolled 19 (1d100)

>>2822501
>-Make mostly medieval weaponry, and a sword to replace the one you ate.
Make sure that the sword has on the flat of it's blade with the description "Your mother is a hamster and your father smells of elderberries" in Japanese for that extra dose of weeb.
>>
>>2822501
whose sword are we replacing? the smiths or the swordsmans? anyways
>replace word and invent guns, draw up the schematic for the fine smith gentleman
>>
Rolled 61 (1d100)

>>2822512
forgot mah dice
>>
Rolled 58 (1d100)

>>2822501
>Make mostly medieval weaponry, and a sword to replace the one you ate.
>Also ask the smith, how a sword to make a sword into magical sword.
>>
>>2822512
can i remind you, that these guys tried to kill us. and you want to give them guns to do a better job?
>>
>>2822522
u rite u rite

i want to repay the smith for all that metal he gave us though
>>
>>2822527
use your roll to make him TWO unbreakable swords. and he payed us to make him shit. so we don't owe him squat
>>
Rolled 1 (1d1)

>>2822538
i see what youre saying
>>
>>2822555
RIP blacksmith
>>
>>2822569
lmao look at that again
>>
Rolled 62 (1d100)

>>2822501
>Party will find me. Yes.
>-Make mostly medieval weaponry, and a sword to replace the one you ate.
>>
>>2822584
>>2822520
>>2822508
>>2822504
and, i will change mine to this, so its unanimus. We did it 4chan!
>>
>>2822592
>Auto
am i retarded? is that not how you spell unanimus?
unannimus.
unnanimus,
younanimus,
younnannimous
unannimous.
>>
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>>2822592
Is this truly the month of odd shit happening?
What next? Are we going to have psionic dating services in the near future?
>>
>>2822501
this was my fucking payment it was trash metal so why do i need to pay you back for that?
>>
>>2822628
fuck this guy we are leaving he think we are some stupid piece of shit animal
>>
>>2822595
Great now I have to go to sleep pondering about this
>>
>>2822628
well ok den
>>
>>2822584
>>>2822501
>62: Be a good dude.

You spend the morning, on into the afternoon relentlessly working over the existing arms and armor with your advanced repair and fabrication systems. Eventually you run out of things to fix or improve and start churning out duplicates of existing things, literally vomiting fourth new swords and gear. "well then, you certainly are the crab that lays the golden egg now aren't ya?" you choose to remain silent less you spew fourth another tirade. Eventually you create a few simple break action single shot firearms and a box of cartridges. It never crossed your mind to explain how they work or what they are. Crab shrug.

By midday the sun is beating down on your metallic shell, and the smithy looks like some sort of insane rube goldberg machine, with numerous devices cobbled together based off your own imagination on how an industrialized process would work. Its far from perfect, but it works, mostly. The smith is happy, and let you have another chunk of the space metal which you have since made into a serviceable if very plain looking longsword.

"CRAB! We've been looking for you since before dawn and...Have you grown?" The Ogress is visibly stunned by your larger presence. You simply use your legs to pivot in a nodding motion. The smith spends a few minutes defending your actions, less out of concern and more out of avarice, but its all as well. Eventually she spots the sword you are carrying as you follow her back to the party. "For the Paladin?" you make the mistake of talking "Shits fucking cash right?" why...why? "I suppose it is of value."

"HELP! THIEF!" A woman and her husband are being accosted in an alleyway by a nerdowell.
---
>Crabtime.
>Let the ogre handle it.
>Not your problem.

1d100
>>
>>2822818
>Let the ogre handle it.
>>
Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>2822830
we have no idea of whats happening i only know we should move from side to side and clack our claws
>>
Rolled 81 (1d100)

>>2822818
>CRAB AND OGRE! THEY FIGHT CRIME!
>>
Rolled 40 (1d100)

>>2822818
>Eat the theif whole

Stealing is wrong, hunger is not a crime though
>>
Rolled 41 (1d100)

>>2822852
Yes! WE'LL EAT THE CRIMINAL AS A TRUE HERO OF JUSTICE! And being able to pickpocket panties as a Crabgrade
I'LL SUPPORT YOU!
>>
CLICKLTY CLACKITY I AM THE MUNCIHES
>>
>>2822818
>Let the ogre handle it.
>>
Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>2822818
>>Let the ogre handle it.
>>
>>2822818
>shits fucking cash right
lmao
also, Crabtime
>>
Rolled 97 (1d100)

>>2822818
>>Crabtime.
NANANANANANANANANANANANA CRABMEN!!!
>>
>>2823358
But Ivan! We could've had Crime Fighting Duo shenanigans!
>>
>>2823366
She can be Robin to our Baтмan
>>
>>2823372
You read my mind Ivan. Exactly how I wanted it to play out.
>>
>>2822844
>81 scarcely contained destruction

You pull the ogre along with you "Have you gone even more mad?! UNHAND ME!" You respond on the fly "Bitch I'm a Craaaaaaahaaaaab. No hands." Soon she sees the cause of your concern and demands the cessation of the mugging in process. The thief declines the suggestion, and instead escalates the situation to one of a hostage crisis. You instead shoot him in the face with your minigun which violently splatters gore all over the wall behind him, and his would be victims. "You can't just go off doing that! You aren't the law!" Gretta shrieks at you as she clumsily wipes blood and brain off the people, attempting to calm them down. "LAW?! LAW? I AM THE..." you manage to choke back the quote. that was an aweful movie, but to yourself you whisper the last bit. "lawwwwwwww." Her pointed ears twitch "YOU ARE NOT THE LAW DAMNIT!" apparently she has more than one set of impressive assets.

Nearby is the miners guild...could be useful
----
>To the guild!
>Just follow Gretta!

dice+1d100
>>
Rolled 52 (1d100)

>>2823404
>>To the guild!
ZE LAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!
>>
Rolled 52 (1d100)

>>2823404
>To the guild!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bA9FiL7mz_0
>>
>>2823404
drag and bang your metal claws yo make music try make sounds with your body and scuttle sideways like crab
>>
Rolled 92 (1d100)

>>2823457
>>
>>2823423
bang on your shell to make sweet music dont forget to sing and make mouth metal part things sounds
>>
Rolled 15 (1d100)

>>2823404
>Eat body, go to guild for dinner
>>
>>2823478
Good idea Anon.
>>
>>2823487
should we do it like washboard music or something else?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WL-raBnVyJU
>>
>>2823517
found the perfect music https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=US7c9ASVfNc or we can play oil drums in the Caribbean
>>
>>2823534
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xk3BvNLeNgw
or this so many things
>>
>>2823534
"Bones will be shattered,
Necks will be wrung!
You'll be beaten and battered,
from racks you'll be hung!
You will die down here
and never be found,
down in the deep
of Goblin Town!"
i am a sucker for this song
or we can do something really out of place like fallout music
>>2823542
i aborted it and it still posted surprisingly
>>
>>2823607
>>2823542
>>2823534
>>2823517
No matter what happens Anon. The music will be Crabbed the Fuk Out.
Crabrock.
>>
>>2823411
>>2823423
damn, thats a cold-ass honkey
>>
>>2823411
>>2823423
>52x2 SEQUENTIAL DIGITS
>>2823467
>92 Maximum musical overcrab
Gretta looks at your impromptu street dance, which is actually quite fantastic and sighs in recognition. "We are going to the mines aren't we?" You nod without loosing step. You slap her on her ass with your claw and nimbly avoid getting smashed with her war club. You are rewarded with a series of angry swipes that result in jiggling which would leave most characters from Dead or Alive green with envy.

A short while later you and your irritated companion find yourselves at the miners guild, and looking right at the front clerk "Freak shows down the road friends." He seems supremely uninterested. "Im here to dig ore and kick ass, and i'm allllll outta ass." thanks duke. again. really. is this what life is about now? Vague allusions to ventrillo harassment? The Clerk looks you both over. "We do have a load of low grade ore that needs shoveling out back, you get that done and we can talk cash per ton moved. So, either get out or get to work." Gretta sighs "I really...really...hope you have a viable reason to this insanity."

You really don't.
----
>Good crab. move ore. collect cash
>Hungry crab. Burrow into ore, eat it and go to sleep.
>Extra hungry crab, eat all the ore.

1d100 and choice.
>>
Rolled 30 (1d100)

>>2823873
>Good crab. move ore. collect cash
Never fear, for it is not moralfagging, but simple investment for when we have to burn this motherfukkin town to the ground when we get inevitably betrayed.
>>
>>2823873
>Good crab. move ore. collect cash
I HAVE THE FLAMES HOT BURNING BLUE AND CLAWS THAT CRUCH AND HAMMER
>>
Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>2823873
>Good crab. move ore. go back to asshole, tell him we are hungry, cut out the middle man and eat ore.....If they agree that is, if not, fuck them and eat anyway.
>>
Rolled 53 (1d100)

>>2823873
>>Good crab. move ore. collect cash
Then proceed to eat cash.
I've heard gold is good conductor.
>>
Rolled 64 (1d100)

>>2823894
GIVE ME MONEY MONEY WHATS THE PAY HONEY? i do work work so better pay pay meeeeeeee the money honey money and i will be happy and yellow and not blue and red like i would BEAT and feel if i dont get the money money honey so give me the stuff that jingle and jangle and glimmer in the deep
>>
>>2823906
after beat put in you
>>
Rolled 54 (1d100)

>>2823873
Jew Crab. Collect Cash. Move Ore.
>>
>>2823929
>>2823905
>>2823894
>>2823903
>>2823890
ask for what the pay is
>>
alright, so what are we actually planning to do with this ore? if nobody has any suggestions or im just redated and missed it i say we cr0nch on it and manifest our companions blades with a REAL edge so they owe us favors we can cash in at some time
then of course we eat as much as we can before needing to sleep to upgrade
>>
>>2823906
>64 an honest days work. sort of.

You are basically a sapient anthropomorphic crab skidsteer when it comes to raw strength. The ore is moved quickly, as the Ogress pitches in her effort. You sing up a happy little diddy as you shovel, and Acapella it sure is unique. By the time you are done moving ore, the large woman is staring at you.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HLpog0plFxE

"Are you...commenting on the nature of war?" you were just going over an old song. but sure. "Hell yeah." ..."It reminds me of our own people's poetry, your singing is aweful, but the words are familiar. Struggle, strife, futility. Ogres often lead a life of service to any cause but their own, even unto death." well, that got deep fast. You've been unconsciously munching on nuggets of ore as she stares at you. "STOP THAT." a club slaps your claw and knocks a nugget away. Caked in dust and grim, you both make your way to the clerk. "Pay up sucka." he looks at you. "A full day's work, for a full day's wage." that steams you a bit. really boils your crab if you know what I mean. you do.
---
>Take the lesser pay
>Take the lesser pay and then sneak out and eat the ore. fuck this guy.
>Violence was the only answer.
>Intimidate. Take gold, and eat ore.

dice+1d100
>>
>>2824109
>if pay is not ore then sneak out and eat after taking.
>if it was ore, be satisfied.
>>
Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>2824132
dice please
>>
Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>2824109
>if pay is not ore then sneak out and eat after taking.
>if it was ore, be satisfied.
Either way We're getting our motherfukking ore!
>>
>>2824109
if he does not pay us we will eat our work as payment
"GIVE ME MONEY MONEY WHATS THE PAY i do work work so better pay pay me i will be happy and yellow if you pay if not then i will beat you blue and red like my mood so better pay up or else you will catch me in a foul mood" clank you claws and spark your breath and light your claws on fire
>>
>>2824109
"this shits whack, b. Imma break my robot foot up yo' ass if dis dough aint all here, you feel me?"
>demand full pay
>i no full pay violence is the only answer
>>
Rolled 39 (1d100)

>>2824109
THEN PAY WITH YOUR BLOOD.
>>
>>2824158
>95 diplomatic dickery

You give Gretta the entirety of your pay and manage to inform her to go take care of herself. She seems genuinely surprised. As for you, you return to the labor in a faux attempt to appease the taskmaster clerk. The truth is you embed yourself into their storehouse like a crustacean Sam Fisher and begin to feast. You not only consume your earlier work, but some higher grade material as well. Soon you feel the need to upgrade, you are already growing in size and the lack of ore in the storehouse as well as your increasing size may draw attention.
---
>Give into rest, upgrade.
>Fight that shit. keep eating. <1d100>
>>
Rolled 77 (1d100)

>>2824203
>>
Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>2824203
>Fight that shit. keep eating. <1d100>

NOM NOM NOM!
>>
>>2824210
>>Fight that shit. keep eating. <1d100
>>
Rolled 24 (1d100)

>>2824203
CONSUME.
LET THE ELDERLY BE CONSUMED BY THE YOUNG, ALL FOR THE GREATER GOOD.
>>
Rolled 41 (1d100)

>>2824203
>eating

this is tax for making us put in effort
>>
Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>2824203
>>Fight that shit. keep eating. <1d100>
Eat the building as well.
>>
>>2824210
>77 does not beat 80.
Sleepy crab is sleepy.
---
The upgrade screen greets you.
"Come on shit head. pick an upgrade."
>repair voice module
>Size+
>Consolidation program (mystery box)
>>
Rolled 73 (1d100)

>>2824274
>Consolidation program (mystery box)
Oh shit nigga another Mystery Bawx
>>
Rolled 40 (1d100)

>>2824274
>consolidation/

Mysery box, mystery box
>>
>>2824274
>Size+
>>
Rolled 83 (1d100)

>>2824274
>>Consolidation program (mystery box)
Even if I have a feeling it'll make us smaller.
>>
>>2824290
>1. the action or process of making something stronger or more solid.

>2. the action or process of combining a number of things into a single more effective or coherent whole.

idk It's probably going to combine two different upgrades we currently have for a more powerful one that we can switch between on the fly if the're both weapons.
>>
Rolled 92 (1d100)

>>2824274
>Consolidation program (mystery box)

Oh ut of course!
>>
>>2822595
It's unanimous. You almost had it, just needed one 'o'.
>>
>>2824332
>92 well. cant say no to that.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a2sOpyF1nF4
You lay under several hundred pounds of crude ore, body changing and shifting. Your claws undergo a dramatic shift, the weapons previously stored in them are relocated centrally within your body, the bulk being dedicated to armor and crushing force. Unconsciously your claws piston open and closed with explosive force, causing ore to slide away slightly, revealing a shiny metallic surface.

Somewhere you were thinking of godzilla as your twin flamers were intermingled with the spark breath system, boosters and relocated to your mouth. Smouldering whisps of smoke and embers rise out of the ore pile, drawing a lot of attention. Several miners flee in fear of a coal dust explosion.

Two large boxy launch cells dominate your back...

Gone are the minigun, general purpose missiles, and dumbfire rocket. Improved mini missiles can be disgorged like a rapid fire weapon, or all at once for dramatic effect. Filling in the difference of rage, the hypersonic missile has been improved for anything outside your reach.

---
Like rolling out of bed on a lazy weekend you gradually make your way out of the ore pile, much changed. The guild is conspicuously empty, so you climb over it's stockyard walls to avoid any extra problems like a smart crab. Time to find Gretta, or someone.
---
New ability list
-Rocket breath: Whats better than a flame thrower? Burning liquid propelled with the force of a rocket. allows for fine control like a cutting torch.
-Micro missile barrage: Fire a few, fire a lot. You have 8,000 of them.
--Short burst: Standard attack
--Volley fire: Equivelant of the old dumb fire rocket
--Long burst: Similiar to what the minigun could do, but more explosivly
-Claws: Fucking brutal close range capability.
-Hypersonic missiles: hit to kill, guided, long range, armor piercing.
-------------------
>Check the shopping district.
>Check the hotsprings and bathhouse
>Check the inn, bar, and brothel.
>Check the Adventurers guild.

1d100 and a choice, as always.
>>
Rolled 19 (1d100)

>>2824488
>Check the hotsprings and bathhouse
Did someone say nekkid peoples?
>>
Rolled 81 (1d100)

>>2824497
>>
Rolled 4 (1d100)

>>2824488
>>Check the inn, bar, and brothel.
>>
Rolled 13 (1d100)

>>2824515
>>
Rolled 92 (1d100)

>>2824488
>Check the hotsprings and bathhouse
>>
>>2824515
>>2824541
>>2824563
Well, looks like we're doing that.
>>
>>2824563
Clean crab with slight homosex awkwardness
>>
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>>2824563
>92: romcom ero adventure! AKA, how crabquest went down in flames.

Your new body is a little quieter than the old one, more agile. Feels...good. Yeah. Feels. Weird. You have a sense of touch, the air across your metallic skin, the ground's granular structure crushing and giving way beneath your claws. Antenna whip about taking in all sorts of sensory data.

You decide to check out the hotsprings and bathhouse first, because that is logically where Gretta and her enormous tiddies would be. Not for unreasonable reasons, but for reasonable, understandable ones. You practically dance across the rooftops, which is impressive for something that weighs in close to a small SUV. The town moves away from you quickly as you close in on the large log walls of the bathing area.

a small entry home with thatched roof seeps steam, while a series of curving log walls provide privacy for numerous hotsprings. This is a surprisingly nice feature for such a podunk village. Weird blend of western and eastern fantasy here. Your perch allows fairly decent viewing... Through stealth and luck, there Gretta is, walking into one of the springs. Being midday, the place is mostly empty aside from a few naked old people walking around with their wrinkles for all of the sky to see...eergh. Delete. delete. Why wont those images delete.
--
>You found her, lets be on our way.
>Continue scientific observations from here.
>Move in for a better view.

choice and +1d100
>>
Rolled 1 (1d100)

>>2824777
>Continue scientific observations from here.
We're a giant robot crab that hasn't seen boob in.....weeks? Days? I don't know, fuck it let the crab have this!
>>
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>>2824790
.........welp, I'm going to bed. Good luck gents
>>
>>2824790
You Hunker down on your rooftop and settle in for a show. The steam periodically billows up and obscures your vision of the springs; you might eventually have to move in closer. For now you content yourself with watching people go about their lives. For a bit Gretta disappears behind a wall only to return less clothed, wearing some sort of fur bikini thing. You hope against hope she will finish, but instead she looks around and then slips into the water. Fuck. Your snap unhappily with your claws, a flock of crows near you caws angrily and flys away. Shit. "Squad broken!" you whisper before ducking down. Hopefully she didn't see you. yes. everything will be all right.
----
>Look up carefully.
>Run away quietly.
>stay in place and be very, very, still.

make a choice. no dice needed.
>>
Rolled 2 (1d100)

>>2824790
Let's try this again...
>>
>>2824807
I... I...
>>2824806
>stay in place and be very, very, still.
>>
>>2824806
>Run away quietly
ABORT ABORT ABORT
>>
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>>2824807
>2: why did you roll. you fool.
---
You hunker down into the plaster and masonry roof, trying to think small, inconspicuous thoughts. Your hud's motion detector picks up nothing. Little beeps and chips on passive scan also pull nothing. People are walking in the streets, the skies are mostly blue with clouds overhead. You watch them for a bit, holding tight. The minutes pass, you feel better. She has probably finished her soak and is done. The pressure begins to let out of built up hydraulic systems, and you sag down relaxing a bit. Fuck but she had big tiddies. You'd seen tiddies before, on the internet, but never in the IRL. You snap your claws a few times, and internally frown as you notice the sky is getting a little darker. stupid clouds. it was nice out. really. it keeps getting darker. That is when you look up. Gretta.
"FUCKING PERVERT CRAAAAAAAAB" This is one of those moments where you take in all the details around you and its etched forever into your mind. You remember the sun behind her, a few birds scattering, and the dull glint of that massive iron club glowing with hateful energy. You try to move, but everything is happening in slow motion, and she seems to be moving in fast forward, her entire body bulging with strength and a desire to rip you apart.
*CLANG*
This is also one of those moments where you regret the newfound ability to feel. Because you feel crushing pain, and the sensation that grievous bodily harm was just done to you, despite your impressive technological body. It would seem magic...or raw hate, is quite powerful. Your eyes focus and sway around crookedly as you attempt to correct yourself, the hud glitches out several times before flickering back online. "Huge...Oni...milkers..." you crackle out through a distorted and synthetic voice that has the ghost of your own tone. "Worth...it.." you crackle again. She gets down on her knees in your face. Your aural receptors are still firing back up thanks to auto repair and you only catch part of what she says "eepy little fucker, you wanted to get an eye full? Apparently you weren't lying about being a man before this. Just like all men eh?" She pokes you with the end of her club, nudging your heavy body with relative ease. You are in pretty bad shape, but not as bad as she thinks. There they are...just bobbling in your face.
-----
>Snip snip.
>Go for the gold. honk.
>Play dead.
>COBRA! RETREAT!
>try to apologize
>Rocket barrage. shes a big girl.

dice+1d100
>>
Rolled 56 (1d100)

>>2824823
>Go for the gold. honk
isn't this what we came here for
>>
>>2824823
>>COBRA! RETREAT!
>>
File: giphy (2).gif (1.87 MB, 500x306)
1.87 MB
1.87 MB GIF
Rolled 52 (1d100)

>>2824823
>Go for the gold. honk.
If this is how we die, I just want to say it was an honor plàying with you all
>>
Rolled 5 (1d100)

>>2824823
>why did you roll. you fool.
I was fucking rolling on that 1. You ninja'd me.

>>2824826
Fuck it, why not.
>>
>>2824826
>>2824834
guys please, lets not die
>>
>>2824839
Maybe try rolling then man
>>
Rolled 35 (1d100)

>>2824823
>>COBRA! RETREAT!
>>
Rolled 87 (1d100)

>>2824854
Let us advance in the opposite direction! aka retreat!
>>
Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>2824823
Furst
>>Play dead
Then
>Go for the gold. honk.
>>
>>2824868
Away from the milkies
>>
>>2824868
>87: a place closer to heaven.

You roll backwards, clanking and sparking as she drops the next blow with a vicious grin. "So there's still some fight in you! Good! I'll show you what an Ogre can really do little crab!" Her body continues to grow more monstrous as you fight. A feminine face is twisted into absolute wrath and her nub horns have extended into something rather demonic. Bit by bit function returns to your legs, just in time for the mad woman to finish circling you like a wolf coming in for the kill. Soon you are backpedaling while a berserk monster seeks to crush you beneath a very nasty iron club. Chunks of roofs fly off with each swipe like a golfer clipping the green. shit. You are going to have to defend yourself or get really lucky at escaping. At least the view is nice. "STAND STILL YA LITTLE SHIT. ILL MAKE SURE YOU GET AN EYE FULL BEFORE I STOMP YA FLAT!" you narrowly avoid some sort of energy lance that punches through a larger building behind you. Fuck this. Fighting retreat. *BOOM* Shit! Maybe full retreat! Somewhere in the distance you hear a familiar raucous laugh.
---
>Rocket breath
>Missile spam
>Hand to claw. eat the club if you can.
>Full retreat!

1d100
>>
>>2824925
>Full retreat!

Maybe lead her through town. Get props from the villagers for allowing them to gaze upon her form. (and shift the focus from us to them because of it)
>>
Rolled 4 (1d100)

>>2824925
>Rocket breath
>>
Rolled (1d00)

>>2824942
>>Full retreat!
>>2824925
thats a good idea
>>
Rolled 52 (1d100)

>>2824942
why do i always freaking forget the dice?
>>
Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>2824925
>Hand to claw. eat the club if you can.
>>
Rolled 22 (1d100)

>>2824925
>>Hand to claw. eat the club if you can.
“REMEMBER THE BASICS OF CRAB QUARTERS COMBAT!”
>>
>>2824956
Is it honking oni tiddies?
>>
Rolled 41 (1d100)

>>2824925
>Full retreat!
GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE
>>
Rolled 84 (1d100)

>>2824925
>>Hand to claw. eat the club if you can.
>>
Rolled 78 (1d100)

>>2824984
>84: Disarmed, but not unarmed.

You spend the next few moments in a frantic game of Cat and mouse, with the roles of cat and mouse played by Ogre and robocrab. Property destruction mounts, and already people are fleeing. You briefly recall that time when you were considering fighting everyone in that party. Fuck. That would have been a poor idea.

"What'd the claw say to the face?!" You quickly shout. In her blood rage she ether doesn't care or didn't hear, but mashes the club downward violently. Pinning it with all your strength you finish the thought. "SLAP!" a backhand with the better path of a thousand pounds of metal alloys knocks her into a tumbling roll that she quickly recovers from, springing into fighting position. The thing is, there is no you to fight. You ran off with the club, munching away. The damn thing is harder than that weird space metal, and the going is slow on that front, but you have your legs and drop down into the street in a full scuttle. A full metal panic if you were. A Full metal crab....you really wasted your life on anime. now this is all you have.

People jump out of your way and carts full of food and fruit, china and other noisy objects are toppled over like some sort of over the top 1970s auto chase. Behind you the enraged Ogre fires off several more beams of annihilating energy which carve deep furrows into the dirt roads. After several twisting routes you are pretty lost, but have made some progress on dismantling the "iron" club. The handle is now gone, and all that is left is a vicious spiked head with several bites taken out of it. Downside is you find yourself in a dead end.
---
>Rocket breath into a tackle and claw attack, she has to burn out sometime right? (beat my dice by 10)
>Missile spam and run some more. (DC60)
>nah, just plow through that wall and get the hell out of here. (DC80)

also pick one of the two.

>Finish eating the club.(-10 to overall roll, but upgrade bonus later.)
>Toss whats left of the club and see if she goes after it/ distracts her. (no roll benefit, but it might work to your favor. or not.)

1d100 and pick a choice.
>>
Rolled 39 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>2825016
>missile spam and run

ALWAYS EAT
>>
Rolled 93 (1d100)

>>2825016
>Missile spam and run some more

Und

>Finish eating the club.(-10 to overall roll, but upgrade bonus later.)

The never ending hunger for growth
>>
Rolled 32 (1d100)

>>2825016
>Missile spam and run some more
>Finish eating the club
>>
>>2825018
How to do rolls like that?
I typed dice+1d100-10
>>
>>2825026
its 1d100+-10
>>
Rolled 48 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>2825027
Thanks. Testing.
>>
Rolled 24 (1d100)

>>2825023
>93: Such numbers compel me to ignore my biological duties of sleep and make one more post in this quest, that is indeed, a grand shitpost.

A massive red skinned claw with thick black nails reaches around the corner, gripping the wall and ripping a chunk from it before she comes into view. "NOW YOU DIE!" You finish chewing the club "Nope." your mouth parts clank shut as you begin a prodigious micro missile spam, expending a full quarter of your sub munitions. "ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA!!!! YOU ARE ALREADY DEAAAAAD!!!!" mixing jojo and northstar. shameful. But fun. The last little missile streaks into a smokey haze left behind by it's companions and explodes. Each one is about the size of a roll of quarters, but hits a hell of a lot harder. Shame about that. Between you and her, well, its gonna be you every time.

Striding forward into the hazy destruction, scraps of cloth and debris fall onto you, and a troublesome bit covers your sensors long enough for you to walk into a wall. *Clang* You grumpily swipe your claw at it, and instead slap something very large, very heavy, and very soft. Shaking the scrap away from your sensors you are face to face with real live boobs. This is your penultimate moment?
---
>Honk.
>Honk honk.
>Try not to honk, fall down, honk a lot.
>run for your sweet life.

1d100. beat my roll.
>>
Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>2825031
Honk then run for it
>>
Rolled 100 (1d100)

>>2825031
>Honk.
then >run for your sweet life.
>>
>>2825035
Oh may gahd
>>
Rolled 82 (1d100)

>>2825031
>Try not to honk, fall down, honk a lot.

Savor the moment
>>
>>2825035
is this the first nat 100?
>>
File: 7fpJP9o.gif (483 KB, 141x141)
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>>2825035
...
>>
File: 1515059971094.gif (2.01 MB, 598x830)
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>>2825035
Eyyyyyyyy
>>
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>>2825035
Deus vult
>>
>>2825035
>100: Uncontrollable crab motorboating
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lrRmgbchiGY

Lets be honest. Before you were a crab, you were a dude, and a kissless NEET. Your claws go at those tiddies like a boxer on a speedbag, while whatever passes for your brain erratically fires wild impulses that make you look like you are being boiled alive or having a seizure result in an impromptu frantic motorboating like a hungry man at a no hands pie eating contest. Ok. Maximum indignity. A crowd is staring at you, at the Ogress Gretta. Now you can die. Good quest end. She leans over to you "Im...going...to...murder...you...when...I...can." At the moment she picks you up into a brutal, shell cracking embrace as impromptu cover for whats left of her modesty. The pressure is immense, and impossibly painful, your hud flashes numerous warnings of structural failure. Grapple crab you are not, at least being smashed to death in this context is not so bad.

Each step crushes you a bit further "I'll pray to the underworld to see your soul transported to Ogre hell..." this and many other hateful whispers are told to you as your vision blacks out. The last thing you hear is the Minotaur...Magnavax. "Come Gretta. Enough flirtations with your little friend. We have an invasion to deal with." Oh thank fuck. maybe you will live. Maybe not. Life is suffering. But there is glory in that suffering. "This fucking pervert isin't worth the trouble. I'll make it into a new outfit." she hisses. "Pervert crab stood on its own against you for this long. Better than the humans." *Crunch* "He ate my damn club, I paid for that to be blessed! Two campaigns worth MAGNAVAX, I WANT THAT BACK!" another crunch sounds out. Yep. You can go ahead and fade to black now, that's about the limit to your crabby endurance.
---
Gained local title: The iron pervert
---
>Die
>Live
>Stop this stupid quest OP. please.

roll 1d100.
>>
Rolled 34 (1d100)

>>2825048
>>Live
>”Even in Death, I still perv.”
>>
Rolled 60 (1d100)

>>2825048
>Live
Live live !!! The perv crab shall live!!!
>>
Rolled 98 (1d100)

>>2825048
>Live
>BLAST HEAVY METAL TO VIBRATE EVERYTHING, JIGGLE FOR THE JIGGLE THRONE
>>
>>2825054
>98
Nice
>>
File: 820.jpg (25 KB, 550x336)
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>>2825056
>>
Rolled 30 (1d100)

>>2825048
>Live
We must live for our children's sake
>>
Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>2825048
LIVE

WE MUST BECOME A TRUE KAIJU
>>
>>2825054
>>2825054
A dull red screen with black text fills your awareness.
---
Upgrade screen: Involuntary activation protocol
cast in the name of god ye not guilty
>Audio kinetic device
Selection made and confirmed.
----
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SMNFOf-YgTY <Slayer - I'm gonna be your God w/ lyrics>

Pain and vigor wrack your body as the most over the top and obnoxious heavy metal that comes to mind blares out of your shattered body. Gretta's grip falters for a moment as you violently shake her flesh with your bombastic sub woofer and tweeters. The volume picks up and so do the vibrations. "UGH! VILE BLASPHEMER!" There are other proclamations to your questionable nature as made by her, but the are mostly drowned out by lyrics with no subtlety. Automated repair systems quickly take advantage of the breathing room garnered by her relaxed grip to begin recovering mangled components and popping out dents in your shell. The long walk to Gretta's temporary quarters is not a terrible one considering your travel companions. Arriving at the compound and crossing through the gates, she tosses you in abject disgust and heads into a small building near the adventuerer's guild. You sweep your claw at her and dip down a bit, tipping an invisible hat "My Lady." ..."Fuck off crab." you hear her muted voice from within. A moment later she returns with a duplicate of her normal outfit. "Lets go Magnavax...crab." The Minotaur is an odd one, but it's laughter is almost like that of a goats rather than a bull. "Crab. This is the first time in years she has lost that much control. For that alone you are an asset." The Ogress has no response. "I hope your dedication to the craft of was is as honed as your perversions." Soon the two humans and Elf join you. Elf...
---
>Follow them in silence
>Listen to their banter and plans.
>Focus on forming replacement weapons for the knight and ogre while you walk. You ate the last attempt like a greedy bastard.

make a selection, roll 1d100.
>>
Rolled 63 (1d100)

>>2825074
>Focus on forming replacement weapons for the knight and ogre while you walk. You ate the last attempt like a greedy bastard.
This will be interesting
>>
Rolled 7 (1d100)

>>2825074
>Focus on forming replacement weapons for the knight and ogre while you walk. You ate the last attempt like a greedy bastard.

But make them over the top fabulous. All pink and shiny n shiet
>>
>>2825074
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P5AbhDdwK-Q

I need to sleep for two hours so I can wake up. Happy rolling you deranged fuckers.
>>
Rolled 66 (1d100)

>>2825074
>Focus on forming replacement weapons for the knight and ogre while you walk. You ate the last attempt like a greedy bastard.
>>
>>2825074
>fix shir that we ate

We were hungry narrator, fuck off
>>
>>2825081
Know what? This is a better song.
https://youtu.be/uXHLQa-FuQc
>>
Rolled 96 (1d100)

>>2825074
Make a copy of Gretta's bust out of metal. So we can taunt her some more. Ask Elf for Gretta's exact measurments.
>>
>Go to sleep just before the Hot Springs post
>Wake up to comedy shenanigans and hot Crab on Ogre action
This is fantastic and I'm proud of every single one of you motherfuckers.
>>
>>2825091
Pffft for fucks sake Ivan
>>
Rolled 90 (1d100)

>>2825074
>Focus on forming replacement weapons for the knight and ogre while you walk. AND Make a copy of Gretta's bust out of metal.
>>
>>2825091
>>2825102
Well I tried. I just hope that it'll be a damn good bust.
>>
>>2825074
Make replacement weapons, save the bust for later
>>
Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>2825074
>Focus on forming replacement weapons for the knight and ogre while you walk. You ate the last attempt like a greedy bastard.
>>
Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>2825074
>>Focus on forming replacement weapons for the knight and ogre while you walk. You ate the last attempt like a greedy bastard.
Lets see how good of a crafter we are
>>
I wonder if they'll be a point where we'll become a more humanoid monster like a lot of reborn monster stories do , or just get way more bizarre appearance wise. Or just keep looking like a metal crab, that's cool too.
>>
>>2825298
next upgrade we should grow a dick so we can impregnate our wife
>>
>>2825317
yeah thats gonna be a no from me dawg
>>
>>2825362
yeah
>>
>>2825317
>Wife
No way man, we aren't getting tied down by some thot. We're a free range rebel that sleeps with who and what he wants!
Plus not only should we not trust ourselves with a penis, I don't think I would want to sleep with anyone desperate enough to fuck a giant robot crab....
>>
>>2825074
>focus on replacing weapons
>>
Rolled 7 (1d100)

>>2825074
>>Focus on forming replacement weapons for the knight and ogre while you walk. You ate the last attempt like a greedy bastard.
This, maybe some composite that may enable flow of magic better.
>>
Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>2825892
ehl oh ehl i forgot my roll! lawl! im so randum! xD ecks dee
>>
>>2826050
>inb4 we make extremely high value equipment whose quality is comparable to legendary weaponry
>>
>>2826112
On a 7? I think not.jpg
>>
Rolled 97 (1d100)

>>2826050
Support.
>>
>>2826210
well if youre gonna support something i guess thats the way to do it
>>
>>2826210
Nice job.
>>
Rolled 30 (1d100)

>Focus on forming replacement weapons for the knight and ogre while you walk. You ate the last attempt like a greedy bastard.
>>
>>2825091
>96: Make a bust
>>2825102
>90: Make a bust
>>2826210
>97: Make some weapons

The rest of the party would normally be dealing with politics, and fallout related to your chase and rampage earlier...but the village has been mostly evacuated since your savage ass beating. You find yourself in the village center with Horvalt and Bryern planning the defenses. Gretta and Magnavax are lurking at the edge of the crowd, unconcerned with strategy. Addicus the Elf is nowhere to be seen. You busy yourself attempting to craft new weapons for the Knight and Ogre, going to war with something inferior is a poor idea. Carefully you regurgitate wads of hot semi liquid metal, using breath like a blowtorch to keep them malleable, numerous mouth-parts work in concert with your claws as you work the metal over and over. You were never really an artist, but you did draw sometimes in your school books. The broadsword you craft looks like something off of a Conan novel or wall poster. Still glowing hot, you move on to creating a new cudgel for the Ogre. The work goes quick, but instead of club like a giant spiked turkey leg you create a long 8 sided, studded, rod that tapers out towards the end, looking like a demonic Gyros spit. While you are no smith, the materials used were incredibly rare and strong. Recycled bits of space metal, the hereditary sword of Bryern, and Gretta's blessed club were used in the creation of these things.
>>><Gained trait: Artisan Crafter>
That went pretty fast. They are still talking. Bored. Bored. You sift the dirt in front of you for a bit before playing with an iron street torch stand. Hmm. You want to make something interesting, and like lightning the muses take you. Inspiration of reccent events drives to create a trolly but impressive sculpture of Gretta's head, which is surprisingly lifelike. The contorted rage and snarling mouth really captures her desire to murder you. The more you look at it the more you remember the chase, destruction, and how that played out. Gretta really doesn't have any armor, probably uses a lot of magic. Still you could do something about that. Recalling her enormous..assets..you go about creating a hollow 1/1 replica of her bust out of quality metal. Excruciating work goes into capturing each detail as you spend the next several minutes on the metallic mammaries. When you are finally done the conversation is over, leaving you a bit shocked at how fast you work now. Whatever. "Guys. Made some shit!" you shamble forward carrying the pile of goods which you spill out onto the war planning table with little ceremony.

Horvalt stares at you and down to the weapons for a bit. "These are magical. How did you do this?" "Didn't do jack shit my dude. Just reused what I ate." he rubs his chin for a moment "Hmm. Impressive. I suspect they are for specific individuals, correct?" you clack in the affirmative. "Hell yeah."
>>
>>2826582
Bryern picks up the broadsword with a degree of contempt and hmmfs to himself. Gretta looks at the club aprehensivly and picks it up with a grunt. Its heavier than the old one. Soon they put their weapons through the paces, twirling and twisting, flaring them to life with magic. A mock duel takes place where glowing club meets blazing sword, keening metal humming and singing with each strike, like they are trying to destroy the implements. Bryern finishes by slashing the blade deeply into the foundation stones of a nearby building. The blade bites deeply but is easily retrived. As he holds it up to the sky it's mirror finish reflects the ground and people behind him as surely as any selfie cam would. "Crab. I will separate the craft form the craftsman. This is good work." Gretta's final approval of the club involves dumping enough magical energy into the thing that it looks like a small sun. As the blinding light fades, the weapon endures, blackened but whole. She looks over at you. "The only thing harder to hit around here than the stone would be your head."

Magnavax looks at the bust of gretta's head "It has the soul of an artist." He quickly flips over the breast plate. "Ah. this must be for me." Slipping on the duplicate of Gretta's bust. The grin reaches his eyes as people stare and laugh. "TAKE THAT OFF, MINOTAUR!" He parades around a bit, slashing the massive axe and making a point of being serious as he tests out the fit of the armor. "TAKE THAT OFF OR I'LL HAVE YOUR HEAD!" Be bleats and laughs "That is all you'll have of me?" Nearly tackling the larger warrior she grips at the plate and yanks it off. "So you accept the crab's offerings?" she grimaces before shoving it on under her apron like tabard, concealing the anatomical details of the armor. "It was made for me, I might as well use it." she manages to hiss out between clenched teeth.

You'd pay more attention but the HUD is indicating something coming from over the horizon. You point your claw towards the sky. "Shits coming in like a rape train with no brakes." Early warning sensors detected it first, but soon organic eyes can see dark shapes in the distance. Flying vessels, ground forces, forces without number. "Legion." one of the defenders mutters.
>>
>>2826135
And you doubted me>>2826210
>>
>>2826648

As the defenders of the hamlet organize into final formations, you notice a stream of villagers, farmers; the elderly, young, and infirm. All laiden with supplies, animals of burden, headed towards the great castle city's walls. Two men bicker between each other "My ancestors smile upon me, can you say the same?".."Ancestors be damned and dead, without proper equipment we are going to be nothing more than a hump in their journey!" They are not the only ones concerned. You detect numerous other men, fearful of their fate, not at death, but at being ineffective. Such honor. wow.

"It would be time to earn our keep." Magnavax says mostly to himself as he walks out of the hamlet's front gate, away from the staging area. The HUD indicates numerous impurities in the air, volcanic in nature. The Minotaur slowly warps, growing darker, larger, and more goat like with each flaming step. At a half a field of distance he stops, and slams his axe into the ground while bellowing out a challenge to the sky above. It sounds like a cross between a screaming goat and man, the two voices overlaid and twisted into something unnatural. As several of the defenders fall over and start to vomit,the land splits open; erupting with brimstone shards, molten sulfur, and what is very likely hellfire, a darkening sky pours what is conspicuously the color and viscosity of blood while hundreds of nightmarish creatures crawl out of the burning fissures. Huh. A devil. Go figure.

At first Bryern, Horvalt and Addicus are unaccounted for until you spot them with your telescoping sensors. A legion of magic users work in concert to create...something. At their center Horvalt stands with his arms raised, collecting a small sphere of azure energy. All around the castle, a faint nimbus of light flickers into life with a visible energy reading on the HUD. The AI indicates a shielding mechanism is in place.

Knight Bryern is already ahead, racing on mounted horseback with several dozen other similar figures. In their midst Gretta runs on foot, keeping up easily. Their combined magic wards off hostile beams of light and projectiles, soon they meet the mobile weapons of the foreign empire. Behind them the armies of the kingdom follow as the hammer to their spear. Explosions ripple out across both ranks, men die and machines explode. Periodic slivers of light streak across the sky, each one hitting its mark. Addicus no doubt. Try as you might, you cannot place the elf's location.

Shits real. Really real. These people will probably die, at least some of them. Its time to do something other than be a bystandard.
---
>Support Magnavax
>Support Gretta and Bryern
>Crab Rampage. Find the biggest fucker you can and down it.
>Heroically leave the battle and land. Not your problem, and no one is stopping you.

2d100 and your choice vs me
>>
Rolled 80, 56 = 136 (2d100)

>>2826769
>>Crab Rampage. Find the biggest fucker you can and down it.
CRABPAGE
>>
Rolled 89, 40 = 129 (2d100)

>>2826769
>Crab Rampage. Find the biggest fucker you can and down it.
IT'S CRABOPCALYPSE TIME!
>>
CRUSTACEAN CALAMITY
>>
Rolled 93, 19 = 112 (2d100)

>>2826769
>crab rampage
>>
Rolled 14, 1 = 15 (2d20)

>>2826769
>Crab Rampage. Find the biggest fucker you can and down it.
>>
Rolled 88 (1d100)

>>2826769
lol silly QM. dropped my dice.
>>
>>2826810
Ah shit dubs.
>>
Rolled 8, 11 = 19 (2d100)

>>2826804
>>2826806
>93, 1 vs 88: Time to slap your shit.

>93: Gee, a whole carrier?!
Admist warring demons, knights, magical archers and artillery stride machines. Walking robotics, dog sized tanks, and tank sized things that look like an OGRE battle fortress. For the small monkeys who pilot these things, it must be like battling giants. In the sky thousands of small aircraft strafe, bomb, or otherwise maim friendly forces. They return like a swarm of insects to flying carriers and then repeat the process. You unload a volley of hypersonic missiles into the city bus sized hovercraft. Weak shields flare but offer no protection against weapons so perfectly suitable.Once again the scale of battle warps for you, and the carrier goes down in flames, rolling wildly onto its sides. You see numerous small bipeds jumping, some with parachutes, others choosing to meet the ground instead of the flames. As it crashes into the ground, it almost pauses in thought before something internal explodes violently, sending shrapnel and debris high into the air.

>1vs 88: Rough non consensual, posterior orifice intercourse
Emerging from the wreck is a giant money, well man sized compared to its normal size, in a silver costume with a ridiculous helmet. It poses wildly a few times, before pointing at you for damatic effect. As if there was anyone else it was pissed off at. "Come at me bro!" you shout. Instead it punches its fists together in front of itself and yells out gibberish words "CHROME BUSTER!" A second later incredibly powerful lasers blast out of it's eyes and knock you off your feet. a neat hole the size of a softball is punched through your entire torso, nearly missing your head. That hurt. A soldier behind you can actually see through to the other side. Your HUD cant get a lock for hypersonic weaponry on the agile creature as it dances around.
---
>Missile barrage. Just spam it with a continuous stream of missiles
>Missile volley. Launch all micro cells at once.
>Breath weapon: no description needed.
>Rip and tear.

Lets play a game. You can pick up to 4 actions, but each action requires a dice. Each extra action taken past 1 subtracts a stacking -5,-10,-15 against all rolls. I'll handle the math, but basically, -30 against each 1d100 if you were to go full retard.

Otherwise...Let the games begin. Roll a d100 for each action you pick, between 1 and 4.
>>
Rolled 24 (1d100)

>>2826877
>Missile barrage. Just spam it with a continuous stream of missiles
Pound that sucker into the fucking dirt.
>>
Rolled 45, 62 = 107 (2d100)

>>2826877
>>Breath weapon: no description needed.
>>Rip and tear.
Get into melee with it, then unleash blast as we snibbity snab.
>>
Rolled 45 (1d100)

>>2826877
>Missile barrage
>>
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Rolled 46, 63 = 109 (2d100)

>>2826908
Support.
>>
Rolled 54, 54 = 108 (2d100)

>>2826908
>>2826877

support
>>
Rolled 77, 100 = 177 (2d100)

>>2827050
s'portan
>>
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>>2827088
Holy dubs and 100.
>>
>>2827088
ayy lmao
>>
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>>2827050
>>2826908
>54,62(-5=57) vs 8,11: Vicious monkey beating.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ttcboE1GrNg
<Bloc Party - Flux>

Your mouthparts flap open with a clang and suddenly a gout of steadily increasing flame erupts fourth. The Silver clad Simian cartwheels away for a bit, expecting to be able to avoid the blast. Instead the flame focuses into a concentrated beam of fire and hyper accelerated metallic particles that rakes across the battlefield. As you carve out a swath of destruction your HUD alerts to to dangerously rising heat levels eventually prompting a shut down. All the while you had steadily pivoted in place as the monkey ran tighter and tighter spiraling circles to meet you in the middle. It's assumption that this was your limit was quickly erased as you blasted it full in the chest with the beam sending it flying onto its back. Laying on the ground smoking, it struggles weekly to backpedal away on hands and feet. Instead you drop your massive claws down like hammers from on high. Vents across your body hiss and howl as pressurized steam spews out, aiding in rapid cooling.

Each blow lands almost comical sparks from your enemy, and soon you recall a childhood of godzilla, ultraman, and sentai. You were the Giant monster though, the bad guy, and you know what? You could live with that. The Ultra feebly raises it's arms into a cross guard as it lays on the ground. Suddenly the figure glows brightly and shrinks down to the diminutive size of a regular Pygmy Marmoset.

In the distance you spot an even larger carrier dropping humanoid shaped battle machines, as your long distance sensors examine them you realize they are mechanized avatars of Pygmy marmosets. Three in total.
---
>Finish him and engage the enemy
>eat. no mercy.
>Make like a smart crab and fire off your missiles like russian rocket artillery.
>Hostage.

dice+1d100 and a choice.
>>
>>2827088
<banked for the future.>
>>
Rolled 12 (1d100)

>>2827126
>>eat. no mercy.
Also
MISSILES
>>
>>2827126
>eat. no mercy.
>Make like a smart crab and fire off your missiles like russian rocket artillery

>>2827132
Withdraw bank balance
>>
Rolled 88, 21 = 109 (2d100)

>>2827173
Rolling if bank closed
>>
Rolled 55 (1d100)

>>2827126
>>Finish him and engage the enemy
>>eat. no mercy.
>>
>>2827178
>>2827173
>>2827137
>88
You pick up the diminutive warrior and unceremoniously shove him into your maw. There was a shriek for a moment, then the warm rush of blood, and something else...crunchy. energetic. It will have to be explored later. You feel good though. Great.

The Simian robots begin unleashing energy weapons, flame breath, and missiles into your allies. That will not do. you dig in and fire off a sustained deluge of missiles into the crowd. For a full minute the battle is drowned out in the local area by constant explosions turning into a continuous roar. When the smoke finally clears the mechs and their crews are incapacitated; soldiers surround and beat on the machines, yelling, kicking. Eventually one rips the chest panel off of a nearby unit and exposes the terrified mechanaught crew within. You watch from the distance as blade and feet are stomped into the compartment, turning enemy pilots into meat jelly. The entire battle is bizarre. Nothing makes sense. Somewhere in the distance you see Gretta ripping another mech in half while Bryern has taken to the skies on wings of light. You are a bit stunned, but at the same time, you were also just killed and reborn as a crab and now robocrab. Not a lot is really that shocking anymore as you quickly shake yourself out of it. A massive explosion engulfs the castle behind you, but as the fireball clears, the shield has held. Your HUD indicates a spike of radiation. The tingling within you persists, almost singing for your attention.

Further away, demons and robots battle for supremacy, but it would seem Magnavax is loosing ground.
---
>Go help Magnavax.
>Examine this new sensation now.
>Clear the skies for Bryern.
>Deploy long range sensors, its not glamorous but nukes tend to be a problem.
>>
Rolled 39 (1d100)

>>2827236
>>Go help Magnavax.
Only way to help Bryern is missiles, and since he's flying around it's likely that he's gonna get hit by friendly fire.
>>
Rolled 96 (1d100)

>>2826648
>The Magnavax part
That was some good shit right there. Well done, QM.

>>2827236
>Go help Magnavax
>>
Rolled 39 (1d100)

>>2827236
>Examine this new sensation now.
Upgrades!
>>
Rolled 31 (1d100)

>>2827236
>>Deploy long range sensors, its not glamorous but nukes tend to be a problem.
>>
>>2827254
> 96: Kick ass and be a hero.
Magnavax fought with ferocity untold, his man sized axe flashing left and right, leaving ruin in it's path. Hundreds of screeching demons followed their summoner into reckless combat. The amount of damage they did was horrific on a one to one ratio. Every kill was brutal overkill. The downside was they were not capable of fighting against a decentralized enemy who picked them off, hit them fused cluster munitions, or worked as a pack to take down the otherworldly monstrosities. Already the large force had been ringed around by small tanks and battle fortresses, you caught a squad of the enemy out in the open, unarmed and unarmored, directing artillery strikes. It almost reminded you of those toy tanks from the 4th of July that would roll forward and spew sparks. Those were fun. Your reminiscing was shaken by a horrible scream as Magnavax spun around, bleeding black ichor and missing an arm.

Behind you Multiple flashes of light accompany fallout warnings. The city's shield is getting pummeled by inter regional ballistic missiles and you watch as Bryern goes down, shot by AA filling the din and smoke of battle with brilliant blue tracer fire.

Charging forward you find yourself fighting alongside monsters that would normally haunt nightmares, or at least not be too out of place in Doom. The demonic Minotaur turns to you, already new flesh and bone are ripping out of it's wound. "Looks painful." he sports a rictus grin. "Quite painful. Though worse has been endured." unable to stop yourself you ask him in disbelief "No bull?" he snorts for a sec "Madness suits you Crab." as you banter back and fourth, the axe falls, reaping limb and life. Missiles chatter out, take on a purpose built life of their own, and fly to their targets quickly, exploding in fireballs. Fighting back to back, you provide the ranged attacks to his brutal melee. That axe is unnaturally sharp, things seem to part before it's edge even touches them.

"Crab. The demons will claim victory here, what of the grand strategy?"

>munitions at 50%

As this section of the battle stabilizes other fronts fall apart.
---
>Gretta and Bryern are fighting alone and look badly injured.
>Somehow Addicus was captured, time to fix that.
>A large machine is coming over the horizon, its ECM distorts your sensors.
>You need to stop those cruise missiles from hitting the city. The spell protecting it looks..broken.

<BONUS from saving Magnavax> and: Have magnavax
>Reinforce the cities magic.
>Continue to ward at the forefront (hold off the unknown force)
>Rescue Addicus
>Reinforce Grettya and Bryern (buy time)

roll 2d100
>>
Rolled 2, 17 = 19 (2d100)

>>2827339
Shit. We still doing the 'you can do multiple actions' bit?

This is a pretty big priority.
>You need to stop those cruise missiles from hitting the city. The spell protecting it looks..broken.

Magnavax and the other two can (hopefully) sweep into rescuing Addicus.
>Reinforce Grettya and Bryern (buy time)
>>
>>2827349
Well, there goes that plan.
>96! ...to 2. Fuck.
>>
Rolled 34, 4 = 38 (2d100)

>>2827349
Supporting
>>
Rolled 32, 93 = 125 (2d100)

>>2827339
>You need to stop those cruise missiles from hitting the city. The spell protecting it looks..broken.
>Rescue Addicus
>>
Rolled 29 (1d100)

>>2827349
i beg the rng gods to support
>>
Rolled 11, 37 = 48 (2d100)

>>2827339
>>
Rolled 82, 25 = 107 (2d100)

>>2827339
>You need to stop those cruise missiles from hitting the city. The spell protecting it looks..broken.
>Reinforce Grettya and Bryern (buy time)
>>
>>2827339
This would probably be a good moment to cash in that 100.
>>
>>2827339
>You need to stop those cruise missiles from hitting the city. The spell protecting it looks..broken

>Reinforce Grettya and Bryern (buy time)
>>
Rolled 2, 90 = 92 (2d100)

>>2827339
>>2827464
Forgot my roll
>>
Rolled 37, 97 = 134 (2d100)

>>2827339
>>Reinforce the cities magic.
>>Somehow Addicus was captured, time to fix that.
>>
Rolled 39, 32 = 71 (2d100)

>>2827349
Supporting
>>
Rolled 77, 87 = 164 (2d100)

>>2827349
This
>>
Rolled 69, 3 = 72 (2d100)

>>2827349
I agree, we must Tacticool the shit out of this.
Supporting.
>>
Looks like 82 for cruise missiles and 97 for Magnavax rescuing Addicus.
Hopefully it's not another 18 hours until the next update.
>>
>>2828483
>82/97 "82 for cruise missiles and 97 for Magnavax rescuing Addicus." could not have said it better myself.

Real life has been pretty real lately, so I've been running crab instead of xeno knowing there will be manic highs and lows when it comes to updates.
---
"Go get the Elf, by the way, is it..?" the Minotaur cuts you off with a swipe of it's axe through the air. A gesture of finality. "I've no certainty on that matter. None of us do." ... "Shit. Fortune favors the bold amiritegui?" for all it's fury and power, Magnavax stares at you in concern "Crab. There are some uncertainties not worth hazarding." With that said he takes off into a full run, leaving his minions behind to stall for as long as they will. You internally wish the best to Gretta and the Knight, they were contracted to save the city, so this is likely what they will want you to do.

Long range sensors give you solid locks for their stand off launchers; large carrier like structures at the extreme edge of the conflict. You rectifiy their endless barage with one of your own via long range hypersonic missiles. A triple sonic boom is heard as the missiles rip through the dense lower atmosphere, friction heating to a glowing white before they impact. Gaping rents are the visual cue that the ships are doomed, and soon numerous small parachutes and helicopters take flight from the stricken vessels.

A lot of things happen in the next few moments. You mostly spam missiles into the sky, sending hostile autonomous weapons raining down and doing a good job of it. Magnavax smashes into the group of machines and tiny marmoset soldiers who had captured Addicus, and then starts making a B-line for Gretta and Bryern; a worthy gesture but nearly futile, they are on the other end of the battle. You catch glimpses of them as enemy combatants go flying like dolls only to rush back in. Your sensors screech numerous warnings as you finally can make out the unknown machine striding onto the battlefield like an angry god. Easily 4 or 5 stories tall, it is an upscaled Marmoset of steel and death. A few of your missiles harmlessly impact on it's armor. Your hud zooms in on the impact points to further the point. Great. Readouts across the bottom of your view give a quick status update.

>Hypersonic missiles: empty
>3000 micro missiles left.
>Breath weapon cooled down.
>Unknown Device active.
---
>Join Magnavax in rescuing the rest of your party.
>Fight the giant.
>activate the unknown.
>>
>>2828600
>xeno
??? Is this a wild Xenomorph quest? I'd play the shit out of it, if that were the case.

Is the city being evacuated, or are we the last line of defense?
Ahh, it doesn't matter anyways.
>activate the unknown.
Micromissiles ain't doing shit without a critical, we're out of hypersonics, and the breath weapon? Don't make me laugh.
>>
Rolled 12 (1d100)

>>2828607
Fuck, forgot my dice. Watch me - I'm gonna roll another 2.
>>
Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>2828600
We still have the big "fuck you missiles", even if we are out of HS, right?
Still
>MYSTERY BOX
>>
>>2828644
Fuck you was lost in favor of an equivelant attack that gives you more fuck yous.

Volley launch instead of chain fire. Spend 1k mini missiles=equivalent amount of explosive, but better distributed.
>>
Rolled 23 (1d100)

>>2828600
Rush in, use micromissiles to attack their audio visual instruments to blind them,
Activate unknown item?
>>
Rolled 4 (1d100)

>>2828600
>Activate the unknown.
I can't help it. I must know what the unknown device does.
>>
Rolled 69 (1d100)

>>2828600
>activate the unknown.
>>
>>2828607
xeno archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2685885/
based off of and in cursedQMs Xeno story
>>2828644
>44: I've seen bigger.fufufufufu.
You take the gambit and activate the mystery item. A familiar sense of power floods into you, the same one from when you ate the little ultraman dude. Suddenly you find yourself rising up, higher and higher as your perspective changes, the battle growing small until you are at about waist high to the hostile war robot. It looks at you with hateful simian eyes, no dobut an experienced team of pilots orchestrates its movement.

The hostile robot immediately notices you and blasts you with some sort of large scale shotgun located in it's abdomen. Chunks of metal shell go flying.
---
>Rush to defend the rest of the party
>Attack
>>
Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>2828800
>Rush to defend the rest of the party
FUCKITGOTTABEAWIERDKINDOFSANWICH!
>>
Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>2828800
>based off of and in cursedQMs Xeno story
Hell yeah!
>Play as human
dissapoint.jpg
Well, fuck it, guess I'm running my own. At some point.

>Attack
We clearly can't play defensively or we'll get shredded. We need to take this thing out, now.

>>2828796
You're banking this one, I assume?
>>
Rolled 76 (1d100)

>>2828851
Human, we waz androids and sheit
>>2828800
>>Attack
Missile to it's face, and while it's momentairly blinded, snip it in the hip joint.
>>
>>2828800
>Rush to defend the rest of the party
Our armor is strong as hell, let's put it to the test
>>
Rolled 6 (1d100)

>>2828800
Forgot roll
>>
>>2828862
>androids
I'm still reading it. It was pretty obvious by the first screen of posts that anon wasn't playing as Aliens.
>76
Tanks for the save.
>>
Damn. I have to give you props, QM; despite >NO XENOS, xeno quest is looking right up my alley.
You've managed to fuse my love of Aliens with my love of SPACE TECH and ALL THE ITEM MECHANICS.
I'm only up to the android component installation sequence, but it's really making me want to play it.
Well done.
>>
>>2828897
Derp, forgot to ask. You have a twitter for runtimes, QM?
I'd highly advocate setting one up if you don't - you're a pretty fun QM.
>>
>the comparatively light anti material rifle
My fucking sides.
This is some good shit, QM. Looking forward to the next time you run it.
>>
Rolled 47 (1d100)

>>2828800
>Attack
>>
Rolled 96 (1d100)

>>2828800
>>Attack
Use the forse of our claws.
>>
>>2828963
Ivan what is with your rolls this thread?
And this is the second 96 You've rolled thus far.
>>
>>2828971
You think that I was Ivan, but it was me Moot.
>>
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>>2828796
>>2828851
>banked: <69, 77, 100>
to be used at the player's discretion.
>>2828963
>96: Get back from a long walk and find the best saved for last.

The larger robot is crude compared to you, but clanks forward powerfully. More destructive blasts from it's belly cannon fire out shredding the landscape, and eradicating any solider or machine caught in it's blast. Reckless! "Sniggy snab im a crab!" you manage to shout out before Clipping it's shins in half as you angrily work at the metal. Slowly the machine's super structure gives way with a groan and shriek of twisting metal. "Foolish bipeds! When will they learn to bow down to the hexapod master race?!" Surely that will not cause concern amongst your comrades. The mech falls down face flat and flails ineffectively as it fires a very high intensity laser from it's eyes into the ground.
---
>Massacre it
>Gretta and Bryern could really use some help.
>Grandstand about like an asshole as you tear apart the mech piece by piece.

1d100
>>
>>2828931
Im really glad you've enjoy the other quest. If you aren't already, drink the kool-aid and join Cursed's Discord channel. Its where I live as a parasite QM.
>>2828976
I knew Moot was never gone. He couldn't stay away from /tg/.
>>
Rolled 9 (1d100)

>>2828985
>Grandstand about like an asshole as you tear apart the mech piece by piece.
AND DON'T YOU FORGET IT!

inb4 nat 1
>>
Rolled 75 (1d100)

>>2828985
>Grandstand about like an asshole as you tear apart the mech piece by piece.
>>
Rolled 44, 64 = 108 (2d100)

>>2828987
>Discord
You got a link?

>Finish it off quickly.
>Gretta and Bryern could really use some help.
>>
Rolled 25 (1d100)

>>2828985
>Gretta and Bryern could really use some help
>>
>>2828991
https://discord.gg/bdUNh8
>>
Rolled 58 (1d100)

>>2828985
>>Massacre it
FINISH IT.
>>
>>2828989
You slam down one of your legs hard onto the upper back of the mech. The pointy tip rips through it, pinning it to the ground easily. Raising your claws up to the sky you snap them a few times before twisting and using them to grab ahold of it's left arm which you wrench upwards, slowly ripping it from the body as you meet with the resistance of an entire race's best engineered product. Surely the welds, connections, and components give way with a shower of flames and sparks. Whirling the arm above your head like a drunk Finn with a flag, you should obscenities and insane boasts no mortal could ever hope to fulfill. This draw the attention of both sides.

With all eyes on you, the proffered mech arm is slammed down onto it's former owner's head, crushing it like a coffee can. Not at all satisfied, you add to the indignity of it all, and scuttle down to the rear section of the mech. After clipping off its tail and proceeding to dry hump it with a grip on the waist, you flail your other claw about like a drunk whore on a mechanical bull while clutching the severed tail, hooting and hollering. Yes. Grandstanding at it's finest. Some stare in shock, others turn away with tears in their eyes, a few cheer.

The mech has been defeated, but your power has been depleted. Soon you find yourself shrinking back to your default size, standing on the shiny metal ass of a giant monkey robot. You are indeed, a huge asshole.
---
>Go find the rest of the party.
>Keep fighting
>Find a way inside this robot, make sure it stays down.

dice+1d100 and a choice.
>>
Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>2829047
>Go find the rest of the party.

I'm bombing out now, QM. Was fun.
See ya on the flipside.
>>
Rolled 96 (1d100)

>>2829047
>Go find the rest of the party.
"HEY GUYS! YOU SHOULD TRY THIS GIGANTISM POWERUP! IT'S REALLY GOOD SHIT!"
>>
Rolled 30 (1d100)

>>2829047
>>Keep fighting
>>
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Rolled 96 (1d100)

>>2829047
>Find a way inside this robot, make sure it stays down.

If we eat it, stay down it will
>>
Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>2829047
>>Find a way inside this robot, make sure it stays down.
>>
>>2829054
>>2829172
>96x2 POWER OVERWHELMING
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=efuS4i1BlKg <hellware deathgrips x doom soundtrack mashup>
You begin chanting the lyrical portion of Hellware, which is decidedly unhinged. There appeared to be some sort of force field over the mech that had previously posed a problem. No such issue now. Ripping your way into you once again appear out of scale, crashing through multiple levels of the machine, massacring the little people inside. Spewing fire and death you rampage for a few minutes before you stumble upon a highly ornate little monkey man. Picking him up you are accosted by a small shrill voice "UNHAND THE COMMANDER OF THE UNITED MARMOSET MILITARY YOU MECHANICAL DOLT!" Nah. "Dismiss this life! WORSHIP DEATH!" You shout as enormous claws crush it like a gnat, red goo and jelly almost irrelevant. Ripping around a bit more you find something that could only be described as it's power core. Wasting no time, you tear into shielding and watch as radiation levels spike dangerously high..for organics. Anyone inside this machine is now likely dead or soon to be. You merrily continue your rampage, yanking out sparking conduit and shattering steaming pipes before you uncover a very, very, radioactive treat.

To eat or not to eat? Of course you would eat this. The fissile material is shoveled with greediness into your mechanical maw; merrily munching munition grade plutonium you ponder if alliteration is a sin or not. Probably. Something rumbles in your gut, and it feels quite powerful. Blinding light begins to pour out of your mouth as you try to cover it with with both claws, to no avail, eventually the beam forces open the mouthparts and spews out, growing in intensity before you begin cutting through the various levels and external hull of the mech, beam lancing into the sky like the emperor's astronomicon itself. Man. you are also a 40k nerd?? Fuck. ok.

Crawling out of the scorched wreckage, the battle is decisively over. The enemy is in full retreat, Addicus and the magic users of the capital city seem to be generating some sort of searing beam that neatly frys those foolish enough to stay nearby. However you spot Magnavax and Bryern, looking a little worse for the wear. It takes a bit but you eventually make your way over to them via a casual, scuttling, stroll. You earned it. Shit, they all did. Hmm. Gretta seems to be laid out, pretty fucked up.

"Hollar!" you wave a claw at them. "Hail Crab. Victory, but at great costs." Bryern's gaze never leaves Gretta. All around you the dead and dying are too numerous to be tended to properly. Hmm. Grettas a good healer, time to give her a poke and get her ass in gear. You nudge her with your claw but she doesn't move.
>>
Rolled 88 (1d100)

>>2829193
>You nudge her with your claw but she doesn't move.
Well, if she died we can eat her and get her powers.
>>
>>2829193
>Scan her. its better than poking. but if dead, eat. if alive go off and eat the other mechs. let nothing go to waste
>>
Rolled 31 (1d100)

>>2829201
Dice
>>
>>2829193
>lost the first version of this, it was a lot longer but im tired as fuck and i didn't want to leave it hanging.
"Crab. She is gone." ok whatever. This world is full of crazy ass magic. "Yeah. Get a priest, healer, magician, some shit right? Resurrection and shes on her feet!" Magnavax shakes his head at you. "No. The essence of her being is gone, her soul. Spent on a desperate oath for a desperate cost." ...well. didn't expect that. Guess while you were fighting inside that mech they were fighting something else. You ponder existence for a bit and only catch snippets of the conversation. "Underworld changes one" "Only one way, not strong enough" The Minotaur frowns at the knight. "You would not make it."
---
banked: <69, 77, 100>

>go salvage and then collect pay. time to move on. lol @ feelings.
>go salvage, then go to hell like all those chicks told you.

Give me 2d100. You can spend a crit 100 on the salvage roll.
---
>Breath weapon upgrade: Particle beam
>>
Rolled 34, 100 = 134 (2d100)

>>2829207
I say we use that 69 and 77

>Salvage, collect pay
>>
Rolled 62, 42 = 104 (2d100)

>>2829207
>>go salvage and then collect pay. time to move on. lol @ feelings.
>>
Rolled 44, 6 = 50 (2d100)

>>2829207

>go salvage and then collect pay. time to move on. lol @ feelings.

Salvage means eating her right
>>
>>2829220
possibly, but the others may not like that.
>>
Rolled 42, 60 = 102 (2d100)

>>2829207
>go salvage and then collect pay. time to move on. lol @ feelings
>>
>>2829207
GM clarification

Going to hell involves literally going to Ogre Hell to recover gretta's soul.
>>
>>2829282
>>2829208
also because I did a shit job explaining that, im taking that second 100, and putting it in the bank for you guys.

You now have 2 100s, a 69 and a 77 in the horde.
>>
Rolled 35, 76 = 111 (2d100)

>>2829207
>go salvage, then go to hell like all those chicks told you.
Those breasts aren't dying on my watch!
>>
Rolled 37, 99 = 136 (2d100)

>>2829207
>go salvage, then go to hell like all those chicks told you.
>>
Rolled 68, 94 = 162 (2d100)

>>2829284
i stand by my vote of "no, go die so we can eat your corpse"
>>
Rolled 88, 35 = 123 (2d100)

>>2829299
Same here. We can always go to hell later. I'm more interested if we get paid for what we did here.
>>
>go salvage, then go to hell like all those chicks told you.
become the doom crab
>>
DOOMCRAB.
>>
Rolled 64, 20 = 84 (2d100)

>>2829207
>go salvage, then go to hell like all those chicks told you.
GUYS LOOK, WE CAN EAT THE DEMONS!
>>
Rolled 8, 53 = 61 (2d100)

>>2829207
>DOOMCRAB!
>>
>>2829312
WELP, YOU HAVE JUST CONVINCED ME TO CHANGE MY VOTE
>>
>>2829371
>>2829332
sorry to go slow guys. gotta take care of some real life matters. be back in a few. Seems we are going to hell. demonic milkers incoming.
>>
>>2829400
Awww yeah, gonna get dat demon tiddy AND ghost tiddy.
>>
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>go salvage, then go to hell like all those chicks told you.

Damm chicks.

Ogre hell must be filled with ogre tits amirite? Not hell like what the Agony game should have truly been amirite?

is this image not PG13?
>>
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>>2829430
Or we can get a different version of hell.
>>
Rolled 44, 72 = 116 (2d100)

>>2829207
>>go salvage, then go to hell like all those chicks told you.
>Breath weapon upgrade: Particle beam
>>
File: 20180823_135710.jpg (3.35 MB, 3771x2120)
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1
>>
File: 20180823_135739.jpg (4.78 MB, 3771x2120)
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2
>>
>>2829527
>>2829530
And in english?
>>
>>2829532
Or in chineese at least.
>>
File: 20180823_135816.jpg (4.14 MB, 3771x2120)
4.14 MB
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3
>>
Ho ho ho. It's about Venezuelan humanitarian crisis. They are running from Venezuela and one of their preferred countries is Brazil, since is closer. The column... of opinion? talks about the goverment's effort on the matter and that authorities say something along the lines of "Not having money is not an excuse to expend it on Venezuelan refugees"
>>
>>2829527
>>2829530
>>2829545
What
>>
>>2829634
"not having money is not an excuse to NOT expend it on help"
>>
>>2829637
Just some shitty propaganda.
>>
>>2829641
...Maybe try again /without/ the triple negative?
>>
>>2829655
The don't have money but still use money to help venezuelan refugees?
>>
>>2829657
Where are they getting the money?
More fiat currency?
>>
>>2829634
BR here, it's about how the immigrants' preferred destination are the southern states, and that is a newspaper trying to convince people to open their buttcheeks and accept the immigrants even if the country is already shit, and his state is bankrupt. That looks like Zero Hora, so he must be from RS, I'm from the neighboring state. My guess is he posted those pictures from his cellphone to save them on his computer
>>
>>2829725
>"My guess is that he posted them here"

you posted them here.
>>
>>2829725
M8, don't lie. It's as clear as day that you're the one that posted that stuff in this thread.
>>
>>2829725
>posted those pictures from his cellphone to save them on his computer
Google drive?
>>
>>2829801
i think this is their first day on 4chan, be nice to the young'un
>>
>>2829982
>be nice to the young'un
So call him a faggot and wish him a good day?
>>
Rolled 27, 45 = 72 (2d100)

>>2829207
>go salvage, then go to hell like all those chicks told you.
commin for that orc tits
>>
>>2830067
If you insist.

>>2829725
Fuck off and have a nice day fag
>>
>>2829527
>>2829530
>>2829545
But why here, of all places?

Inb4
>We go to hell
>It's Venezuela
>>
>>2830131
>We take over the country
>We become King of Cocaine
>We push it to the limit
How is this a bad thing again?
>>
>>2830074
>commin for that orc tits
you missed the chance to say cummin
>>
>>2829725
why are other BRs afraid of immigrants all of a sudden? it's to feel closer to americans and europeans with their immigrant crysis?

I don't get it because the majority of immigrants we get here a very nice people and actually work for a living while our biggest problems is our own uneducated masses that turn to crime.
>>
>>2830217
The favellas and your terminator cops are scary enough, they probably don't want to add 1 million starving people who don't speak the language to the mix and up the crime rate even more, if possible. Hell, you think the rainforest destruction for farming is bad now, there will be roving bands of Venezuelans stripping cows to the bone and ravaging the rain forest for toilet paper leaves.
>>
>>2829480
I dinna suppose you've got a sauce for >pic related?
>>
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>>2830492
There is no non-censored version. Also it's all in russian. But i'm gonna post what exist.
Come here dear I wanna play with you.
>>
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>>2830734
>>
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>>2830739
>>
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>>2830742

After this one >>2829480
>>
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>>2830745
Also image spoilering doesn't like me it seems.
>>
<no (you) for that>
Probably the most interesting attempt to derail a thread I've seen in a while.
---
Sorry about being gone so long. Real life gonna real life.
>>2829297
>>2829208
>100 and 99: Can I even do this? Yes! I am the DM/GM/QM. I can do anything. HAHAHAHAHA
---
"Gotta go eat. You do you, Magnavax." You gesture at Gretta's body. "The attempt will be made, but the physical form may not survive intact, Crab." "Alright." Not much to be said. You actually aren't as worried as you would normally be.

The battlefield is a rich treasure trove of exotic metals and scorched pieces of bite sized flesh. Nearly every downed air ship had some degree of fissile material and lightweight alloys. Munching peacefully, ignoring various indicators from your HUD you cannibalize the downed mech for choice components and eat reams of fiber optic cable like noodles. Soon you find yourself being directed by navigational arrows and highlights towards better technology that you would have normally missed. The additional guidance catches you off guard but also is welcomed. By the time you are done, you have visibly grown, are are still bloated with potential for upgrades. You make your way towards the warband's camp, sticking out in the night like a hundred pinpricks of light. After wandering for a bit you find the small camp site for your party. Gretta's body is on a raised platform, surrounded by herbs and candles, wrapped in oil anointed bandages and tended by the Minotaur, now looking like his normal self. The Elf, Knight, and Spymaster are nowhere to be found, before you can ask Magnavax fills the silence. "The others busy themselves with duty or recuperation of the spirits." A ways off you spot Addicus entertaining a group of men and women near a long, low tent. "The preparations are done anyway. All that is left is you to be ready."

You pause, and try to say something reassuring, something worthy. "Baby, I was born ready. Do you see this shell? Do you see these claws? My shit is on lock down. BAMFy as fuck. I'm so HAM I run a fucking deli." A bard nearby scratches down what may be your final words as you scuttle into a runed circle on the ground.
---
Upgraded:
>Size+ ( You now stare Magnavax in the eyes but massively outweigh him or anyone else. Don't fuck with crabbo.)
>HUD upgraded to Onboard AI (players can now query for suggestions on best courses of actions or potential outcomes to a situation)
Updated:
>bank: <69, 77, 100> 69, 77 considered expended for choice rolls given. 100 remains.
>All munitions refilled.
>>
>>2830799
Hot diggity dog.
>>
Rolled 9 (1d100)

>>2830799
>>Size+ ( You now stare Magnavax in the eyes but massively outweigh him or anyone else. Don't fuck with crabbo.)
>>
>>2830799
...Wait. Are we supposed to choose here? Am confoozled.
>>
>>2830799
<100 is a crit success for crossing into the underworld. 99 is for your upgrade choices and how many you get.>
https://youtu.be/SmLh1i7-DLg
The circle is almost too small for you, but by tucking your legs and claws in tightly, you barely fit. Drifting off to sleep brings you to the upgrade menu once more. This time it pitch black with cool blue text, you quickly make your way through the menus and come to the familiar upgrade tree. It would see all your hard work has left you with some very fascinating choices.
---
>Sympathetic AI: Reroll fails and crit fails once. Roll is executed by the QM.
>Missilemancer 2.0: Improve missiles, increasing size, speed, range, and strength of the base micro missile. Replaces stock launch cells with independent tracking missile spewing miniguns.
>Overclocked: All fissile material is used to improve the internal generator. Move faster, claw harder.
>Ultra Max: Increases the size of your Ultra form.
>Ultra Duration: Increases the number of turns you can maintain Ultra form without penalty.
---
You get to pick one. roll a 1d100 to see who's choice matters most.
>>
>>2830822
>>2830818
nope/ roll again.
>>
Rolled 70 (1d100)

>>2830824
>>Overclocked: All fissile material is used to improve the internal generator. Move faster, claw harder.
Okay then.
>>
Rolled 9 (1d100)

>>2830824
>>Overclocked: All fissile material is used to improve the internal generator. Move faster, claw harder.
SPEEDY SNIP
>>
Rolled 99 (1d100)

>>2830824
I almost want to go with >Sympathetic AI, but I'll go with
>Overclocked: All fissile material is used to improve the internal generator. Move faster, claw harder.
>>
Rolled 2 (1d100)

>>2830824
>Overclocked: All fissile material is used to improve the internal generator. Move faster, claw harder.
What's this? A RAGE BOOST? Why thank you!
>>
Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>2830824
>Sympathetic AI: Reroll fails and crit fails once. Roll is executed by the QM.

Guess I have to hope for a 100
>>
Rolled 12 (1d100)

>>2830824
>>Missilemancer 2.0: Improve missiles, increasing size, speed, range, and strength of the base micro missile. Replaces stock launch cells with independent tracking missile spewing miniguns.
>Missilemancer 2.0: Improve missiles, increasing size, speed, range, and strength of the base micro missile. Replaces stock launch cells with independent tracking missile spewing miniguns.
>Missilemancer 2.0: Improve missiles, increasing size, speed, range, and strength of the base micro missile. Replaces stock launch cells with independent tracking missile spewing miniguns.
>Missilemancer 2.0: Improve missiles, increasing size, speed, range, and strength of the base micro missile. Replaces stock launch cells with independent tracking missile spewing miniguns.
>>
>>2830824
What exactly is Ultra Form? Is that the ability that temporarily makes us bigger when we activate it?
>>
>>2831038
Yup, that's the ability we got when we chomped on that one monkey dude during the battle.
>>
>>2831038
>>2831041
totes correct.
>>2831028
Sorry jando. Today destiny was not with you.
>>2830842
>99: Overclocked. Jacked up and good to go.
---
The clam blue text of the menu jitters and glitches a few times. Black fades to CRT scanline red, and the text washes out into it before coming back as flickering white and yellow. You make your selection with some trepidation and before you even boot back into the world of the living, you feel a surge of unnatural energy filling you, the siren song of violence in the back of your mind and the anticipation of digging into metal like phantom limb syndrome at your finger tips...well claw tips.

Your view of the world flicks to life with a heavy grain of static, the onboard AI that powers your HUD feeds back numerous error messages regarding local data while heavily visual glitching and artifacting slowly fades away. The first thing you notice is the steady throbbing of light down all the seams in your mechanical body. Eye stalks fully extend and swivel about taking in the extent of it. Not just light, heat. Ruddy orange light pulses through you, escaping at any crack, while whisps of steam steadily hiss off you. The next thing you notice is that you are in a place looks like a mixture of a great lime and cobblestone city, pointless but dominating amounts of chain, and of course, fire, and the general molten motif. Already two large gentlemen come to welcome you. They have a height advantage of about a meter over your impressively large frame. You have the advantage in murderous rage.
---
>REEE CRAB MURDER SPREE
>Attempt to speak with them
>>
>>2831073
forgot my name. so yeah. roll that 1d100 and make a choice. or write in. lets see what happens.
>>
>>2831073
What do these gentlemen look like?
Should I ask scene questions like this on the Discord, or here in the thread?
>>
Rolled 100 (1d100)

>>2831073
>>Attempt to speak with them
Parlay
>>
>>2831084
HELL YEAH!
>>
>>2831084
It is clear that we know the song of their "people".
>>
>>2831077
Here is fine man.
>>2831084
>100: A crab of glib tongue.

The two large demonic figures walk up to you, their bodies burnt black and grotesquely muscled. You notice large horns and sharp teeth; suddenly the realization these are Ogres. Not just Demons. Demon Ogres. "Human soul in Ogre hell. Thats a bad fuck up." One of them cocks its head sideways at you and splits a grin as it talks. "Do I look human? I'm a FUKING CRAB! SUCK MY DICK! IM A CRAAAAAAB!" He just makes a small come hither motion and you feel a powerful tug. There is a sense of extreme disorientation as you look down at someone who is small, naked and pink. "Like I said. Human. And you fucked up. So now you get fucked." with an impressive degree of willpower, you slam your being back into the metal cage that you would call a body. Your voice comes out as a steady growl. "No U." Jamming your claw under his sternum, you lift the demonic ogre off his feet and then *snip snip* with small precision movements as he twists in agony, falling to the floor with sternum split neatly in half. The other demon seems particularly amused by this, and watches with crossed arms. "a human comes here, soul naked, in metal skin." it pauses for a moment before asking a simple question "Why?"
...
"Titties: Big. Fat. Ogre. Titties." It's eyes narrow as they glow red and smoulder before it stats laughing. "Alright. Follow us mighty "Crab"..." Us? the other demon looks at you smugly. "We will find you that which you seek. Entertainment is scarce here once pain looses meaning." You walk behind the two, as they banter back and fourth. The civility of it all is highly unsettling, but then Gretta herself was surprisingly eloquent, if fatalistic. "Instead of tides of monsters seeking to rip you to little pieces and add you to the mortar of this realm, we will play games." The other looks at you "Yes. Games." "Nah man. you mean some bullshit and asshole tricks." the look at each other before agreeing in unison. "Yes."

Eventually you manage to get through the conversation and determine that if you can complete their tasks, you get the soul back. If not, you are stuck here until you do.
----
>Keep it simple. Combat.
>Walk around the city and attempt to learn the rules of this place.
>Ask for the challenges now.

I'll post some more later. Im pretty worn out. 1d100 and the choice.
>>
Rolled 75 (1d100)

>>2831139
>>Walk around the city and attempt to learn the rules of this place.
Learn what they mean by naked soul.
>>
Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>2831150
Sure, why not. We're totally gonna die, aren't we.
Wait, we're in hell - that means we're technically /already dead/.
Hmm.
>>
>>2831150
Don't forget to chomp down on a demon before we leave.
>>
>>2831160
One of every type preferable.
>>
>>2831150
>NOTE:
>100: in effect for your duration in Ogre hell: The denizens of this place will not attack you on sight. This royally fucks up the plan for you to be a demonically powered crab kaiju in hell town fighting ultra-satan.
---
>>2831150
>75: yeah lets go for a stroll.

You leave the two demons, intent to learn a bit more lore before you try your hand with them. Wandering around the city for a bit reveals a multi layered twisting maze that individuals somehow still call home. Its...not exactly what you would expect. There are gruesome scenes of torture on street corners as people are carved up alive, then sold off like meat. The currency seems to be some sort of glowing coin. More talking. Barbed boxes cemented into walls with screaming people. Bridge over magma lake. Yep. Checks out.

You pass a lot of other fixtures, like a giant evil bank, and a large general store, as well as some residential areas. The one common theme you see is that its almost normal. Disfunctional, but almost normal. Except for the smaller souls like humans, elves and countless tiny monkeys that are hunted ruthlessly and torn to shreds in nightmarish ways before their essence scatters into motes of light that the denizens greedily collect. hmmm.
---
>Bank
>Residential
>Bridge
>>
Rolled 32 (1d100)

>>2831185
>Bridge
That's where Trolls and Ogres like to live right?
>>
>>2831185
>Bank

and i am irritated with the not murdering
>>
Rolled 90 (1d100)

>>2831139
>Walk around the city and attempt to learn the rules of this place.

ALSO blast some slayer through our speakers, or agoraphobic nosebleed.

Demons love blast beats
>>
I find it hilarious that we said we came here for big fat ogre titties, but shouldn’t we have specified we were looking for Gretta’s big fat ogre titties? You know, just to make sure we don’t rescue the wrong ogre soul.
>>
>>2831250
You bring up a good point Anon.
Hopefully they have Google in hell.
>>
Rolled 5 (1d100)

>>2831185
>Residential

Maybe some slight breaking and entering. If caught just claim we are searching for big was ogre titties and mean no harm
>>
Rolled 93 (1d100)

>>2831241
rolling to play Flaminroids instead of slayer
>>
>>2831241
>90: walkies
>93: why anon why? I am such a shitty QM.
You wander for quite a while, and observe a lot of really...really fucked up shit. Basically in this place the strong prey on the weak, and for the most part there is enough influx of weak to placate the ravenous murder boner of the denizens here. Their souls are shredded and used as currency, which buys food. Where the currency goes is mostly unknown, but the bank collects it.

The demons here know you, you infested the place with a legion of little screaming marmoset fuckers. On one had thats irritating, on the other hand its like grapes on the vine, free and easy. So you are a cool dude who murders a lot, and for whatever reason what you kill tends to go to this particular hell. One of the older guys commented on a binding, or a curse. The resident seer and demonologist lives under the bridge. Real mean fucker. Might...want to bring some offerings. On the other hand there are rumors of a new demon forming due to the amount of shattered souls flowing in, those pieces that escape are forming around a core.

Conerning a smaller demon, you blast him with:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oeJrfcuumYY

"NO! NO! WHY TAYKyOoooooN?! WHYYY?!!!!" The little demon shoves a pile of currency into your grasping claws and jumps into a flaming lake of magma. Though the geological naming convention would mandate that at surface level, would it not be lava? these thoughts are too heavy, so you ignore them, making your way elsewhere. You notice a little spot of tarnish on your shell. Dirty. ree. It wont readily buff out. Gonna fix that once you are topside.
-----
>Gained 50 soul chits
----
>Go after weak souls, join in the wild hunt. could be a good offering.
>Try and murder a few demons quietly and collect a large enough offering quickly.
>Ask around about Gretta
>Search out this "soul core" of the new demon

Dice+1d100 and a choice.
>>
Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>2831301
>Murder demons
>>
>>2831301
>>Ask around about Gretta
>>
Rolled 89 (1d100)

>>2831301
>Try and murder a few demons quietly and collect a large enough offering quickly.

Gotta go fast

https://youtu.be/n7Hld8y532E
>>
>>2831301
>Ask around about Gretta
>>
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Also, just finished reading that xeno quest.

Can't wait for a sequel!
>>
>>2831301
>why anon why?
my color demands it QM
>>
Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>2831301
>>Try and murder a few demons quietly and collect a large enough offering quickly.
>>
Demon titties > Ogre titties because demoness will have one for each crab arm
>>
Rolled 65 (1d100)

>ask about gretta
nat 1 here we go
>>
Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>2831314
Supportan
>>
Rolled 27 (1d100)

>>2831301
>>Try and murder a few demons quietly and collect a large enough offering quickly.
They're demons
Fuck em
>>
>>2832205
update later tonight. Gotta go do dad stuff.
>>
>>2832205
>Fuck em
Literally or figuratively?
>>
>>2832205
>>2832665
Literally obviously.
>>
>>2832665
Why not both?
>>
>>2832577
...How much later? It's later now.
>>
Comrades, know this: We may have had our fair share of disagreements but i swear upon my name, honor, the grass, and the sky that the words i will tell you are no lie.
Never order the meatball sub from Manny and Oglas...i was blasting out of both ends on my porcelain throne, wringing my hands at the gut wrenching pain as a torrent of chunky orange bile came spewing forth, not long after followed by shits no vile, they resembled a cow patty soaked in brine and yellowed for three days
>>
even now i sense the pain returning...an omen of times to come
>>
>>2833514
Well Anon, I have no fucking clue what Manny and Oglas, but if on my travels I come across said place. I will keep your wisdom in mind.
>>
>>2833522
it would only fare to brighten your journey
>>
>>2832990
It is.
>>2831314
>89: Murder demons
--
After a while of capturing the souls of tiny monkeys and throwing them into your slowly growing collection of soul chits. The little fuckers are small, and the city is huge. On top of that you aren't exactly small either, topping in at nearly 9 feet (2.7432 meters, 3 yards, or 1 tallyboy) worth of crab trying to chase down something the size of a large smart phone.

Scratching your shell in thought you conclude, this is a place where the strong survive.. and you are strong. A swaggering ogre walks by you, clutching a screaming human as it takes out bites like an apple. "Ah shaddup." he snaps the smaller soul's neck, and it ceases struggling but continues to blink and mouth noises of horror. Curiosity gets the better of you and you ask why he's eating. "Don't care for soul chits. Just bullshit to buy bullshit. The real treasure here is strength. We could just turn on each other, get it fast, yeah, but that ain't how it works. Shits gotta be orderly. functional." He rips out another huge mouthful of flesh. "Ain't strong? ain't a person s'far as we're concerned." you mention you are stronger. "Yeah but this obviously aint yer home now isit? You wanna get'cher murder on? Go to the pits outside the city. It'll cost ya yer immortal soul, and a share of every good kill, but its a quick way to make chits." He finishes off a leg and continues on "Chits, they're a scam. Costs some to even make it happen and ya never know, so ya loose right there, who gets it? Probably the banks. After that, ya can only trade em, can't even eat the things. Trust me, I tried. Just sit inside ya like a rock." hmm. He Finishes off the last of the human soul.

"Open wide and say ahh." you click your claws at the demon. He blinks at you in worried confusion then complies. You wrap your claws around his belly and head. snip snip. In front of you is a pile of eviscerated demon and a good amount of chits. You pick up each peice and and shove it into the chit bag you picked up along the way; it magically swells with volume. There was no one around to see that, so, no foul.

>>2831389
>65: Ask about Gretta
--
You spend the better part of the day running around, asking about "gretta" and an Ogre with tig ol bitties as you make wild claw gestures to indicate the size. Precious few people know of it, but eventually you meet a flesh trader who mentions he might have seen some "new arrivals" being taken to the pleasure dome by the pits. The only other rumor to emerge is of a demonic simian.
----
>Visit the Seer with some chits now that you have them.
>Experimentally eat a chit.
>Search out demon monkey.
>To the pits!
>To the Bank.
>>
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18 KB
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Rolled 87 (1d100)

>>2833822
>Visit the Seer with some chits now that you have them.

And
>Experimentally eat a chit.
>>
Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>2833822
>>Experimentally eat a chit.
>>To the pits!
>>
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152 KB
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>>2833856
You use your mouth parts to experimentally grab a chit. hmm. Small. Moving an eyestalk down to look over the glowing object, it has no appreciable detail, or seeming mass. Just volume, surface, and a consistent glowing whiteness to it. The shape is very much that of a coin. With nothing else to learn about it, you shove it into your mouth. The machines within you struggle to process the coin, and sparks involuntarily fly out of your maw as tooling wears itself down in combat against the foreign object. Eventually though, you do manage to eat the chit, and feel an almost unnoticeable pop of something...power?

Wandering towards the hell bridge over magma (lava?) lake, you pass through the twisting alleys and covered streets of the city. The path you took is gone, and several new ones, as well as dead ends are in it's place. No matter, coconut crabs are excellent climbers, and so are you. Scaling the city for a better view later might not be a bad idea. You will have to remember that. Eventually you scuttle onto the bridge, which is thankfully where it was last time. A small gang of Ogres walk up to you cockily. "Hey Mortal, you came to the wrong territory. This is Oni territory." ...is this shit real?
---
>Push them off the bridge. eradicate.
>Play along. placate.
>"Whats an Oni?" inquisitate.
>"Looks like corpse territory to me." intimidate.

dice+1d100
>>
Rolled 66 (1d100)

>>2833912
Don't know who the fuck that is, but i am looking for a friend, now fuck off before i show you how a bunch of the new arrivals got sent here...
>>
>>2833920
>66: just scary enough.
"Like I give a fuck. See me? I'm the king of fucking murder mountain. Ever see a crab skullfuck a dude? You can be the head and I'll be your FPV goggles baby."

The run off.
---
>Go under the bridge and see the Seer.
>Go check out the magma lake.
>Eat other Chit.
>>
>>2833924
Forgot my name.
>>
Rolled 23 (1d100)

>>2833924
>>Go check out the magma lake.
>>
Rolled 58 (1d100)

>>2833924
>check out the lake, and eat another chit
>>
>>2833945
Scuttling down to the lake's edge, you can really appreciate that the beach is made of scorched skeletons. The magma lazily clings to the bones nearest it's edge but stays liquid, flames ceaselessly hissing around the bone, kissing it. Its almost hypnotic. You kind of want to find out what it feels like. Probably just a feeler, or the tip of your claw.

As you reach out to fuck with it, you are yanked backwards by something much larger and stronger. Fighting wildly, you fire your particle beam which eager gouges into the bridge, scoring the bottom of it deeply. "WOAH! WOAH! Knock it the fuck off asshole! You are shitting up my home!" A hand clamps over your mouth parts, suffering no harm from the beam.

What the shit now? You struggle some more before another meaty hand slaps you good. HUD scattering for a moment, head ringing, you turn around. The troll. Yeah. Thats a troll. Nearly three times your size, skin like the unholy union between leather and granite if it could catch herpes, little beady eyes and large, large, sharp ,sharp teeth. "Yeah. Drink it all in. Beautiful isin't it?"
----
"Im a crab."
"You are one ugly motherfucker"
"You the seer?"
>>
>>2833952
>"Im a crab."
>>
Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>2833952
"You are one ugly motherfucking seer. But i don't care because crabdom"

why not all?
>>
>>2833959
>>2833960
>71: Do all the things.
"You are one ugly motherfucking seer. But i don't care because crabdom...fuckboy." you really wish you could control that sometimes. Nervously you shove a chit into your maw as the Troll looks you over. This fucker...this fucker is very much your superior. Going ultra or not, you doubt you could hurt it.

"Haha...Kid. Let me tell you, not too many people come here to banter. Not too many come here willingly, or as alive as you are. At least Naked...probably don't understand half of what I'm saying do you?" you shake your entire body in an approximation of shaking your head no. "Alright. Lets go through the steps. I'm old as fuck. Been here forever, maybe always. I see through you. So drop the crab act. You are some displaced human traveler. Soul is human as fuck, you've also been munching on chits ya greedy little shit. Those are mine. Well. They should be if the fucks at the bank would quit taking em. Place used to run a little different when I was in charge." He pokes you on your shell for effect. The gesture leaves a temporary dent your repair systems soon pop out with an audible noise like a metal bottle cap's freshness seal. "Hmm. Neat. You might be useful Crab-Boy."

"I'm an adult!" The Troll snickers, little embers fly out of his nostrils. "Yeah. a man child...at least that is what word your mind has stored for it. You come here Naked, no protection, and think...what? As far as I can tell you barely think. It's amazing. You really had nothing, so you ran with this when you got it...ohhh...look at that. Your first touches. Hahahaha....oh man. You have big brassy balls. Alright. Lets do the Q and A session."
---
>How do chits work?
>What was this place like before?
>What do you want from me?
>Whats up with the bank?
>Why are non-ogres here?
>What do you mean naked?
>...what am I? What happened to me?
>Where is Gretta.

dice+1d100, these questions might cost you, but each one is valuable.
>>
>>2833978
>Where is gretta
>What the fuck happened to me

We don't need to ask about chits, because they are for eating and trading
>>
Rolled 23 (1d100)

>>2833992
dice
>>
>>2833993
>23: Weak willed questions.

"Um. Where is she, man?" the Trolls thick black lips curled over his teeth. "SheMan? Didn't know you were into that. dude." You snap your claws angrily. "Gretta!" it lazily rakes long black claws across the stone of the bridge, like nails on a chalkboard. "So many grettas...so little time."

You ask what he means by "little time."..."Until I decide you aren't worth it, and have faux crab for dinner. So lets cut the bullshit kid. You clearly have weak will. Maybe you impressed tweedle dee and tweedle dumbass for the welcoming party here, by the way, you've left them hanging for a while...But it doesn't work on me. I see through it. Most travelers come protected, warded, shielded, they have layers and scribes pre write anything they are going to say, know all the rules. You...you are here...as vulnerable..and naked...as a little baby." hot breath washes over your shell, various sensors alerting you to a dangerous climb in temperature as the troll circles you like a predator.

"So what I need...is you...who are so very unbound, so very naked, so very free. To do..EXACTLY...what I ask, and when it's all done, we both get what we want. at least what we want right now. So Crabby boy..how does that sound. Do you like that?" He gets uncomfortably close to your head and whispers "Does...that work for you?" Somewhere in the distance there is thunder, but it sounds angry. "Great. More fuckheads thinking they can compete here." you have no idea what he is talking about.
---
>shit yourself.
>try not to shit yourself, fall down, and shit a lot.
>Yeah. <spaghetti contained>
>Ask one of the above questions to buy time and see if you can figure out anything.
>Ask "Fuckheads?" and eat another chit.
roll a 1d100
>>
Rolled 40 (1d100)

>>2834039
>>2834039
>Fuck heads?

Act cool and collected while we figure shit out, eating just shows we are comfortable
>>
>>2834039
So, shall I eat them?
>>
Rolled 16 (1d100)

>>2834065
>>
>>2834060
>>2834065
>there is a big fucking storm going on near me, lost power once and about 3000 characters worth of update. Fuck. That earlier version was so much better. so much.
--
>40:Weak again

"Fuc...fuckheads?" You ask nervously. The troll leers at you as he circles like an apex predator. "I can see right through you kid, read your thoughts like they are on your face." Fuck. "Fuck is right. You are fucked, shit outta luck. You bring me the chits or you will die. You like that? I can make references too, but I do it better and with more class." Damnit. He's right. He is so damn powerful, and evil, and cool. You havn't felt this powerless since middle-school, at least in high-school you were invisible. Shit. You nervously eat another chit. As you digest it thunder booms out around you, not so far this time. The magma lake surges towards you for a moment, almost eager to consume you before it recedes. Scary.

A vicious slap sends you tumbling over the charred bones like a stone across a lake, at least until you smash into the bridge. "The chits...ARE FUCKING MINE! I collect the dividend, I collect them in the end." The Troll's voice goes from calm and collected to feral madness instantly. He slaps you again, sending off numerous damage warnings. You are in bad shape from a few love taps. "You like that little rhyme? Children love rhymes." He slicks back his coarse black mane. No horns. Weird. "Wasn't always ogre hell kid."

"This place though, it is what it is. It was mine until the banks came. Fuckheads. Others who can compete. Knew the laws and moved quick. Little things like no stealing. Now I'm dealing with them, and the monkey king. New fucker, your fault actually. See, every soul here, its here because someone assigned it. Belief, Oath, or Dedication. Signed, sealed, delivered. On everyone of those screeching little shits is signed one T.fuckheadcrab. That's...you." you raise your claws in admonishment. "Like you didn't murder that other fuckhead a few hours ago?" Whoops. your bad.

"No..no..Thing is wasn't just you was it. One overly emotional cleric who made a deal she couldn't cash in on. Remember? Go to Ogre Hell? Yeah...yeah you do. So lets cut the bullshit and get to the point. You are going to give me all your chits, and I'll call that the agency fee. Or I can rip you apart, throw you in the lake over there and take all your chits. I want you. I need you. I'm going to have you. You don't follow all the laws here, and that is the important part."
---
>Hi ho, Hi ho, its off to demon work we go.
>Die and end the quest.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d100)

>>2834126
Now when you speak in such a convincing manner and we have no chance of escape, have our lovely chits and we shall be on our way....But really though where is that ogre? we kinda need her.
>>
>>2834126
.TIME TO CASH IN THAT 100
>>
>>2834131
>Nat 1: Your ass is mine.
>Cash in banked 100: FUCK. FUUUUCK. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK. Me when you get a nat 1, and then the subsequent 100 cash in: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vOBKxUT9Da4
---
"Bravado, that worked on tweedle dee and tweedle dumbass, the welcoming party. See right through you, weakling..."
The troll snarls as it gets close to you, "you little shit...you think that..FUCK. FUCK! ARGHH!!!" He rips his hands off you, blistering skin smoulders and smokes viciously. It recoils for a moment up against the foot of the bridge like a hurt animal before speaking. "Oh...clever little fucker. Too stupid to even know...I accept the bartered fate. Hahahahaha...quite the offering. Now hand over the chits, my little tool. We have work to do." You cautiously approach the Troll, and pay it's toll. There is something powerful and ancient in that transaction, the heavy sack of chit vanishes from your claws as he swipes it. "Acceptable. A little on the light side...better than nothing. Alright. Lets write that contract." and with that he rakes long black claws across your shell like nails on a chalk board before digging on right into your head. To describe the pain would be silly. Needless to say, you loose track of sanity, and time, as moments drag on into eternity, the Demonic Troll shoves a whole hand, and then impossibly an arm into your body, and grab something important. With a yank you wrench free of your mortal, metal, coil.

"Better to conduct business like this." you are shaking, scared, and naked. "Look man. I'm here to get Gretta." !!!normal voice. you can talk. "Oh look, he likes that. Not so attached to the crab persona, kiddo? For a reasonable fee..ya know...add a few addendums to the contract, little À la carte items. Hmm?" you think about it for a sec. Some sort of human body, it would be nice, you feel saner than you have in a long time. "Nah. nah. Fuck that. You know what I'm here for, just get to the point." not bad holding your own. good on ya. After a bit of going back and fourth, its agreed. The troll is your agent, for which you have paid in advance, and will be found harmless of any and all actions committed by you. In exchange, you will recover the soul of one "Gretta as I fucking know her, unchanged, no fuckery. Fuckery defined as unintended or intentional subterfuge, deciet, or manipulation." About as good as an inexperienced NEET will do. He talks at length about other items, you decline them all flat out. "Of course your resolve will win out against such temptations. Now go do my bidding, shitstick." You find yourself slammed back into your crabby form, the sensations of feet, hands, and skin quickly fading from your mind despite however hard you try to hold onto them. Its almost painful in it's own way, like the loss of something important, and while the memories fade, the knowledge that its gone sticks. In their place are burning runes marking you, and a noticeably increased amount of tarnish on your body.
>>
>>2834154
"You know what to do. Go do it." weird. You literally know what to do. Seems to be burned into your mind. "Don't eat anymore fucking chits. And stay away from eating souls raw, it infects you with what they are. Only degenerates do that shit...also...With you under contract, anything you take down here is mine."
---
>punish the welcoming party and collect taxes.
>Kill the monkey king.
>Shake up the pits.
>>
>>2834159
"does that mean that we can eat demons?"

>Monkey king
>>
>>2834164
"Want to know what it's like to be an Oni..an Ogre? The laws that they adhere to would become your own. Interested?" Nope. not at all. You scuttle off to murder an up and coming monkey demon...Yay.
---
Its not hard to find it's domain, a portion of the city steadily twists in it's own image, Cobblestone and mortar trees form a primeval forest where thousands of hateful little red eyes stare out at you from the dark. Chains twisted into iron vines clank and rustle on a smouldering wind. You know each and everyone of them.
---
Roll 1d100
>>
Rolled 41 (1d100)

>>2834171
Welp,here goes nothing. kaiju time

Anyone else want to help?
>>
Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>2834171
>>
>>2834180
>71: No time to waste fucking around.
---
You activate your ultra-form and start surging upwards, growing ever larger. The forest of stone gives way, shrieking souls running for their existence, many crushed by you...again. This time though, you follow the motes of light as they swarm through the forest and give chase. Every stride is one of ruin, more cobblestone trees fall, more twisted ruins crushed. More souls turned to chit, all flying towards their patron. The trail of light streams through the dark landscape towards your opponent. "CRAB! I asked you once to unhand me, unexpected as it is, VENGEANCE WILL BE MINE!" A figure of light steadily grows larger and larger, but instead of anything like the previous Ultra you had fought, this one is a duplicate of that little Mech commander you murdered earlier. And he is kinda pissed off.
---
Roll 1d100 and pick an action
>Rush into Melee
>Missile spam
>Particle beam

----
>I'll continue this later today, as its already 5:30 am. Got a little kid who just woke up and needs to be put back to sleep. Have a good day folks.
>>
>>2834207
are you insomniac or something?
>>
Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>2834207
>>2834207
>Missile spam while getting a run up to leap at the bastard
>>
Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>2834207
>>Rush into Melee
>>
Rolled 100 (1d100)

>>2834207
>Particle beam

Imma charging mah lasor
>>
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>>2834228
Eyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
>>
Rolled 14 (1d100)

>>2834229
i will never be as cool as that cat
>particle beem
>>
>>2834228
Seems that we're charging our Large Laser.
>>
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>>2834228
>>
>>2830749
>>2830745
>>2830742
>>2830739
>>2830734
I didn't know that Ellie from "Fuck me, My Daughter is a Magical Girl Quest" did porn in Demon-College. Haru is a lucky/unlucky man, that poor, fortunate bastard. I envy/mourn him ever since we voted to toss him in bed with our blacked out yet horrifyingly horny big sister. Clam-jammed Duchess of hell vs Kitsune dick. Well at least we will probably get some nephews and nieces who are good for headpats.
>>
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>>2834228
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jm_6U-MWmXk
https://youtu.be/RhuDtlmXg6I
>100: IMA FIRIN MAH LAZOR. Fuck your boss battle NonGent. Nah thats fine man, fuck that bossbattle, I...I..I didn't even want to do it anyway.

The monkey king in all his screeching fury rips through the twisting landscape; tree shaped buildings and chained spires crumble as stone debris go flying, trailing streaks of ancient dust. Pure brute force demolishes everything between you and him in a straight line that is rapidly growing. As your opponent draws closer you start to make out the gruesome features of something that looks like a skinned baboon.

You Hunker down in preparation as mouthparts fly open with a heavy clang. A pale glow emanates from deep within and you watch as the creature's face turns from a mask of rage to shock. A moment later a thin lance of blue energy rips out into the darkness, narrowly missing the Monkey King. Buildings and the inhabitants inside are sliced in half as the giant simian dashes wildly to avoid your beam. Zigzagging across the horizon you bring ruin to his twisted domain, fires and explosion bloom across this mutated section of the underworld city. Eventually his speed and agility fail him, as your onboard AI enacts CIWS protocols and takes control. You mechanically jerk around, the beam leading it's target before you see it intersect with the rampaging demon. You caught it in mid jump, and sliced off both it's hands and feet with a shower of gore. Landing in a heap, the creature screams and howls as you approach, claws snipping at the air hungrily.

You finally get a good look at it, and understand the warning. This thing is an amalgamation of itself, and everything it has been eating "raw". Despite being mutilated, it hops away on stumps in an attempt to escape you.
---
>More laser
>Missiles.
>Claws.

1d100 and a choice. lets see how it goes down.
>>
Rolled 54 (1d100)

>>2835611
>>Missiles.

Always! A barrage to erase him!
>>
Rolled 92 (1d100)

>>2835611
>>Missiles.
Then claws
>>
>>2835713
Missiles fly wildly as a stream turns into a volley fired deluge, contrails and exhaust vapor creates intricate patterns as explosions rip across this section of the city. In the conflagration you see a screeching fleshless skeleton of a monkey. Looks like you got him. Working your way across the wreckage, you manage to find the diminished Monkey King, and push the tips of your claws into it's eye sockets, and around it's head. *Crunch* The form of your fallen enemy rapidly dissolves, it's essence traveling to pay the Troll's fee.

You still have a few minutes on being huge before you shrink back down, where to?
---
>punish the welcoming party and collect taxes.
>Shake up the pits.
>Find a good vantage point and climb it to gather some intel.

dice+1d100 for how well this goes.
>>
Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>2835763
>>punish the welcoming party and collect taxes.
It's the TAX COLLECTOR
Alternatively, I"M THE DREAD PIRATE ROBERTS, AND I'M HERE FOR YOUR SOLLLLS
>>
Rolled 61 (1d100)

>>2835763
>>2835763
>the tax mancometh
>>
Rolled 5 (1d100)

>>2835763
>punish the welcoming party and collect taxes.

H*ck yea
>>
Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>2835763
>Punish the welcoming party and collect taxes.
Did someone say TAXES?
IRS-Crab is go.
>>
Rolled 54 (1d100)

>>2835763
>>Find a good vantage point and climb it to gather some intel.
Assassin Craab is a go.
>>
>>2835779
>71: Tremble mortals. Doom has come.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KuDcHxXbgto <Samael 05 Jupiterian Vibe Passage>
The Monkey king's realm shifts at a much greater rate than you expected. Stone and mortar falling down into grey paste that clings to your legs. The small denizens of this place get stuck in the twisted batter before it begins springing up as part of the city proper, their twisted and screaming faces becoming enlarged and bloated into embellishments on the buildings. By the time you get back to where you started; the bridge, the place looks like it is any other part of the hellscape.

Still embiggened..fufufu..you stomp into the residential section of town and grab individuals, screaming about taxes. People are shaken upside down, chits raining out, vanishing as they impact on the ground. It would seem that there is significant back tax due to the bridge troll since the bank usurped his realm. "Wha..what d-d-do you want?!" One of the gathered members of the crowd dares to ask. "To the Troll, PAY THE TOLL!" You incinerate him for good measure with your breath weapon. The onboard AI that powers your HUD and CIWS alerts you that ultra mode is almost over. You quickly scuttle into another area before it wears off and you look like a regular sized schmuck.

Already a stampede of terrified individuals run for the bridge. Its a start. Now to find the welcoming party.
---
>Go search for the welcoming party.
>Shake up the pits.
>Climb the tallest building in the city.

roll a 1d100.
>>
Rolled 2 (1d100)

>>2837030
>>Climb the tallest building in the city.
>>
Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>2837033
ANOTHER FUCKING TWO!

>Shake up the pits.
>>
Rolled 4 (1d100)

>>2837033
>>
>>2837036
You swagger into the periphery of the area known as "The pits" a debauched land of gambling, murder for fun, brothels, bars, and gladiator pits. If it can be bought and sold, it will be here. You would have soaked in more of the sights but instead someone hit you over the head with something quite heavy and you are instead sitting inside a cage waiting to be released into a fighting pit, to fight, and probably die, for the entertainment of the masses. The last thing you saw were the Ogres you were out searching for dragging you away by the legs. oh the indignity.

>Laser still on cooldown.
>Embiggen ultra form on cooldown.
--
>Try to break out stronk style.
>Try to break out sneaky style.
>Convince a guard to let you out.
>Fight for the glory of bridge troll!

dice+1d100 and a choice.
>>
Rolled 83 (1d100)

>>2837077
>>Try to break out stronk style.
>>
Rolled 94 (1d100)

>>2837077
>Try to break out sneaky style.
>>
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>>2837083
You deftly pick the lock to your cage with the tiny claws that surround your mouthparts. From there its a simple matter of climbing up a wall and digging through plaster and cindercrete into the seating of the arena. This goes about as well as one can expect from a large unsneeky crab. A few angrier spectators attempt to fight you, but are thrown down the pit you have recently created, soon to be a part of the show. What starts off as a small confrontation becomes an outright brawl in the theater seating of the fighting pits. People murder and strangle each other while the more well to do observe from their box office seating. You spot the duo you've been after in one the said seats.
---
>Take advantage of the riot. Climb up to their seating, hurt them.
>Cut down their box office's support posts.
>Set the arena on fire. Missiles. missiles everywhere. Fuck everyone.

dice+1d100 and a choice.
>>
Rolled 23 (1d100)

>>2837100
>Cut down their box office's support posts
>>
Rolled 5 (1d100)

>>2837100
>>Set the arena on fire. Missiles. missiles everywhere. Fuck everyone.
>>
>>2837111
>23: damn. damn.

You run up to the box office support pillars and begin to claw at them in vein. They are made of sturdier stuff than you, and you seem to have attracted the attention of security.
---
>Climb up.
>Fight.

beat my roll.
>>
Rolled 89 (1d100)

>>2837131
>>
Rolled 89 (1d100)

>>2837131
>Climb up.
Pls fix
>>