Archived threads in /qst/ - Quests - 14. page
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>Hello, I'm new to this board. I can't draw, but I like to think I am a decent writer. In any case, prepare for a freewheeling time travel adventure. The plot and lore will unfold with your help and creative input. There will be light RPG elements such as inventory, although nothing too technical, as the main focus will be on narrative. Think of this as an enjoyable choose-your-own-adventure with an endless footnote of potential paths to follow. The initial exposition will be fairly long, but I assure you it will also be a good read. Fear not, there will be choices soon!
As each day shuffled along, tidied into weeks and packed into the months of the season, the arrow of time would don its perennial messenger's cap and deliver the world anew. To every mote of dust rolling in the vast oceans of the earth and to everything suspended in the endless black above, time pulled restlessly and imbued its forward motion without end. Perched outside the fabric of the universe, one could see time's disdain for constancy and pattern, but those woven within it could only see that which was in front of them.
Tim was no exception; today he could see nothing but rain. This was the case on most days since he had been relocated. He had begun to feel that gray skies and damp clothes were inevitable. If graced with a seat on the municipal board of tourism, he would have pitched his personal town motto: Bridgeton: The Other Place Where The Sun Don't Shine. Not that the city was a complete hole, but it was certainly off the beaten path and not somewhere you'd visit without serious thought and preparation. There weren't any nice restaurants or hangouts, no attractions, no "scenes" to speak of. Bridgeton was a mecca of dark-suited professionals, shipping men, and federal employees, all kneeling to venerate the arrival of next month's paycheck.
Downtown was the only lively part of the city with its rolling guild of colorful drifters and street performers, many fresh faces passing through on their way down the railroads which lined the eastern seaboard. They seemed to be the only people who'd chat with Tim about something beside the weather; locals were never in the mood to talk. Sometimes Tim dreamt of stowing away on a boxcar with these folk and being taken to sunnier shores, but the dreams always ended with a reprimanding punch to the gut, a dispatching of the hobos who likely knew too much, and an express flight back to Bridgeton courtesy of the FBA's endless pipeline of taxpayer money. He had no clear picture of what his place was in the greater schemes of the Bureau, but he suspected that abandoning the post would be detrimental to his health. His work was likely a minor write-off that some high-ranking official would use to fluff up the annual expenditures and bankroll a new experimental plane, and God help him if he interfered. The FBA was secretive, swift in delivering a comeuppance, and they just loved their fancy planes.
The FBA was monolithic now, but it came from humble beginnings. The Federal Bureau of Advancement, employer of Tim Sharp and nearly fifty thousand others, was incorporated as an arm of the U.S. government on October 5th, 1934. It was commissioned to research new agricultural methods, helping to relieve the hardship laden upon the people of the central states by towering windstorms of dust and debris. The Bureau was an immediate success. By curating the nation's finest strategists, scientists, and engineers, the organization managed to undo decades of poor farming practice...
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That's it for the intro. Time travel incoming. Post any suggestions for what's to come.
>Something of interest in the Bureau memo?
>A nearly-complete experiment in the basement? (apart from the time machine, naturally)
>A new character, like an FBA inspector or a lab assistant?
>Ideas for where the first successful journey through time will land Tim?
Tim currently has a shitty fountain pen, a wallet, and a...
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>>337566
>Ideas for where the first successful journey through time will land Tim?
1810.
The Draconians have managed to find it, the place they will call home.
Decades ago a dragon brought forth his draconian followers and told them of a place where they would make there home that would either become a thing of legend, or an utter failure.
Determined to prove that their mettle is stronger than anything the world can throw at them. They began a pilgrimage to where the place is, and as they finally arrive they find it to be something.....not quite as they expected
The place is a badlands: with jutting crystal spires piercing the storming sky...
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Red, we're hot-headed
>>328801
>White- Can use frost breath as a natural power, easier time learning ice magic, more resistant to the cold
Let's be white dragons, and kill all the black dragons.
If you are interested in happy endings, you would be better off playing some other quest.
In this quest, rarely do good things happen. In fact, they hardly ever happen. This is because life is not pleasant for the protagonists of our story, the three wayward Trump children- Ivanka, Donald Jr., and baby Eric. I hate to break it to you like this, but that is just the reality of the situation. So if you're looking for a quest where you can just type in "conjure me a sword" into the little posting box and expect to win the day, think again- for the world of "Trumpfortunate Events" is treacherous, traitorous, and surprising at every turn. You will find no casual win-em-all adventure here.
Their misfortune began one day in Palm Beach, Florida, not too far from the jewel of their father's real estate empire, the famous, grand Mar-A-Lago. That is to say, the former jewel, because on that day it was engulfed in flame and burned to the ground. The Trump children were playing on the beach at the time, and barely noticed the smoke and smoldering fire rising from the estate until screams rang out from the windows, large portions of the building started collapsing, and it was generally too late to react in any way except for complete and utter shock.
That was the day their comfortable lives were forever altered, for the worst casualties of the fire included their loving parents, Donald and Ivana. Later the children were told that they were burned alive peacefully in their sleep after a fit of mid-day sex, but this information did nothing to comfort them, and Eric, being a baby, did not understand it at all. The only fact that now rang clear through each of them was that they were alone in the world now, with only each other.
Ivanka was the oldest child. Her cunning and natural wit acquired from her father have always aided her in escaping from difficult situations, and her radiant charisma captivated any and all who approached her. One time her father grounded her in her room at the top of Trump Tower, so she disguised herself as one of the many employees of the Trump Organization and sallied her way down to see her friends. How did she manage it, you ask? It was a tremendous disguise. She was 13 at the time of the fire.
Young Donald Jr., 10 years old, was the ambitious one. Don was a boy who acted from his gut- with courage and a sense of invincibility. Of course this often leads to trouble, but it just as often leads to a result no one thinks possible. He was the type of kid to run everywhere he went, and carelessly launch baseballs into neighbor's windows, and halt robberies with a forceful tackle. The latter example only occurred once, but what a once it was.
(cont.)
>>336432
Baby Eric’s main interest in life was biting things. His two razor-sharp buck teeth assisted him in the careful severing of a myriad of objects, including (but not limited to) rope, cheese, tarps, certain thinly-stretched metals such as wire or forks, bone, wood, all matter of plant material, candles, gummy and wool. Eric, being only a baby, could not talk so much as shriek, and the only word he could utter was perhaps the most important word of all: his last name, “TRUMP”.
In the aftermath of the fire,...
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(Some rules:
My discretion for choosing who gets the action. Quick response, repeating digits, cleverness, non-chaos will influence my decision.
I will roll dice to determine the effectiveness of your actions.
Interstitial discussion is encouraged here.
Have fun!
And please clap.)
(Really? No one is interested in playing a Trump-themed quest version of A Series of Unfortunate Events?)
Twitter: @Artic_Kobold
I've decided to finally not do something Poke related but I am trying something out. I hope you all enjoy.
---
You wake up with a splitting headache and notice that you're sitting in the middle of an empty park in the middle of a city. Its dusk and the lights in the lamps are all on and the sky is a mix of orange, pink and dark blue- a rather beautiful sight. You would enjoy this sight if you knew [i[why[/i] you are here or who you are.
You check your personage to find no wallet on you...
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>Cute and sweet
