. A red crystal also covers her heart. The ground beneath her rises, as if trying to meet her hand. She’s surrounded by scores of genuflecting people, all wearing robes and simple clothing, unlike the ornate gown that the woman they’re bowing to is clad in. You examine the other sides of the coffin, to see an intricate mural of the same woman leading a chariot charge. Out of the corner of your eye, you can spot the crystals adorning the woman glowing with a dull light, and the sarcophagus opens ever so slightly.

[x] Open it, what’s the worse that could happen
[x] These Babylonians are a bunch of creeps and you don’t want any part of them anymore.
[x] Write in

>>417873
>[x] These Babylonians are a bunch of creeps and you don’t want any part of them anymore.

>>417873
Also, QM, might want to get a twitter so we can anticipate your schedule

>>417873
>[x] Open it, what’s the worse that could happen

America stereotypes HO

Rolled 1 (1d2)

Rolling for tie breaker:
1: >>417950
2: >>418002

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There’s no way you’re falling for that. Experience has taught you that sticking your hand in dark places is generally a bad idea. It’s probably even more inadvisable when the tomb of an ancient race of magicians is involved. You ignore the coffin, and poke around the room some more. There’s not a whole lot here, some brass jars filled with dust probably used to be offerings to whoever is in that coffin.

They must really like this girl, considering the surface area of the room that’s covered in murals depicting her in battle. She’s always outnumbered, but that doesn’t seem to deter her much. Maybe she was a goddess or a queen for these people. Hieroglyphics line the bottom of the art, they glow a slight blue color as you walk past them. You ignore it, fearing that you’ll trip some ancient alarm that summons another giant skeleton to flatten you. Or worse. You find yourself back at the room you started in. Erika’s still in the middle of examining the documents and scrolls you left her with. She looks up from them as you approach.

“It looks like they did find what they want. They were using whatever is in this coffin to reanimate their soldiers. But, this was the only place they could accomplish this. So they want the Afrika Korps to push into Egypt as soon as the Hexenkraft are done in Mesopotamia. Which could be any day now.”

That’s very far from good. You can only hope reinforcements arrive sooner than later. Erika examines the scrolls closely before sighing and tucking them under her arm.

It looks like the Major and Josie went on expeditions of their own. Diane returns with arms full of scrolls, and stone tablets. Josie on the other hand looks like she looted the place, she carries something heavy in a bag, you swear that it’s gold. A sparkling new necklace adorns Josie’s neck.

“I wonder how much this stuff’s worth? Could we retire on our profits?”

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea to be grave robbing.” Josie replies with a clap on the Major’s shoulder.

“No reason to let some perfectly good jewelry go to waste. I think it looks better on me than some dead girl anyways. Now let’s get back before we have to deal with any more angry undead.”

No argument there. Night falls on the desert, making it marginally less hot as you traverse the unending dunes. Finally you make it back to Cairo and the Allied/Soviet base. The Major tosses you one of the tablets he’s holding onto before retiring to his side of the base
“She looks a lot like you. Thought you might be interested.”

Huh. If you weren’t so pale, maybe you’d agree.

[x] Take the tablet to Professor Avdol, see if he can make heads or tails of it
[x] Check on Diane, see how she’s recovering
[x] Talk to Josie about her haul. Maybe the stuff’s cursed and she’s doomed everyone.
[x] Hit the town, see if there are any signs of Hexenkraft infiltrators, or Marionette’s thralls.
[x] Write in

>>418248
>[x] Take the tablet to Professor Avdol, see if he can make heads or tails of it

>pic
I didn't think we were literally megucas

QM, is it bad if I try to shill this quest in /qtg/?

>>418248
>[x] Take the tablet to Professor Avdol, see if he can make heads or tails of it

>>418248
> take the tablet to prof
> tease Josie about cursed loot, no maybe about it, some hieroglyphs got translated and they say she is totally boned

>>418288
I won't stop you
And my twitter is here: https://twitter.com/kojimaQM

The stone tablet’s quite heavy, necessitating both arms for you to carry it. It’s a chore to lug it all the way the back to the Allied section. You easily identify the Professor’s tent thanks to the sheer amount of guards surrounding it. You’re stopped by a burly pair of American soldiers who bar you at the entrance. They stare at you as they ask for your identification. They seem satisfied with your papers, but follow you insider, hands resting on the grip of their rifles. The professor seems to in the middle of a meal before he turns to you, eyes lighting up like fireworks when he sees the tablet in your arms. He shovels food into his mouth before taking the tablet from you and then shaking your hands in his.

“Good, good, good, I was afraid they’d never let me out of here to do fieldwork, but it looks like the field has come to me! Sorry things aren’t more hospitable, I’m not used to having guests especially not in these situations.”

He shoves his unfinished meal to the side, almost splattering the contents of the bowl all over the ground. He sets the tablet down and gets to work, staring at textbooks as much as he does the tablet.

The only sounds that fill the tent are the idle mumblings and rantings of the professor, and you almost fall asleep as he works. The sound of a book slamming closed jolts you back to the world of the living.

“This is most fascinating! A similar figure has been found in Greek ruins, except under the name of ‘Athena’. This woman doesn’t seem to have a name. Unless you count ‘Savior’. It appears that they believed that she was a goddess given form, that she was able to command the earth itself to vanquish tyrants, and that even her ten thousandth daughter would bear her skills!”

“Stories are great and all, doc. But can it help keep us from getting wiped from the map in a few days? And why does she look like me.”

He shakes his head, seemingly coming down from the high that this new information has put him on.

“Perhaps. She was buried in the center of Babylon, with her hammer and her “spirit” in her tomb. But, the word that they used for ‘dead’ can also be translated as ‘sleeping’. As for your resemblance to her, I can not say. Magic abilities are hereditary, and tend to favor females correct? That’s all I have to say on the matter.”

Huh. It’s too bad that Babylon is smack dab in Afrika Korps territory right now.

[1/2]

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You leave the tablet with the Professor to pour over. His guards escort you out of the tent. That’s when a sudden stroke of devious genius strikes you. You skip over to your team’s series of tents, and find Josie playing with her necklace idly, twirling it around on a finger. You poke your head through the flaps, a smug smile on your face. Josie stops to look at you as you barge into her tent.

“You might want to put that stuff back. Just spoke with Avdol and according to him, it’s cursed. All of it.”

She chuckles nervously

“You can’t be serious, that kinda stuff only happens in movies. Like in The Pharoa-

“It’s exactly like The Pharaoh. Any food you eat will turn to dust in your mouth. Unless you put it back.” Josie turns as white as a sheet when you tell her of her fate. She grumbles and kicks at the dirt, sending a little cloud of dust up.

“Stupid ghosts and their stupid curses, not letting me have fun. I’ll return it tomorrow.” You can’t quite tell if she’s being sincere or not, but you’re satisfied with her answer.

“Good. Hopefully Imhotep will spare you.”

You can’t resist giggling to yourself at your masterful ruse. It takes almost half a minute for you to finally calm down.

Now on to other business.

[x] Go to sleep, a day of crawling around ancient tombs and fighting undead has tuckered you out
[x] Visit the Soviets they’ve kept quite a few scrolls for themselves, and you’re afraid of what they’re keeping from you
[x] Visit Diane, let her know that you care.
[x] Write in

>>418451
>[x] Visit Diane, let her know that you care.

Can we do both? Could be interesting if the Soviets have some more info on what was at that place beyond just the sarcofigi. Also what this savour character was all about

>>418588
My Internet is having issues, will have to call it for today

>friend is finally done dragging me into games
>oh boy! it's time for internet!
>fifteen minutes later: >>418722
Well, see you soon.

>>418722
Alright. Thanks for running anyway QM

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The city of Cairo slows to a stop as the night drags onto early morning. The base on the other hand ablaze with activity. The news of the Hexenkraft operating under the Pyramids is spreading fast among both factions that occupy the base. The fact that they’ve managed to do their work practically unmolested is a source of great concern for everyone. Your mind is more occupied with what the Professor Avdol told you. What if the Hexenkraft manage to wake this ‘Savior’ person up. They already have their sights on one ancient superweapon, them getting their grubby hands on an ancient super soldier too would be disastrous, to say the least. That’s not counting the fact that a mind controlling magical girl could still be prowling around the city. Who knows how many people she’s taken into her service? All in all not a good situation, but you were never one to just give up. You make a mental note to visit the Soviets later. They kept quite a few scrolls from the Mausoleum for themselves. A small part of you wonders why they wouldn’t share it with you. Aren’t you supposed to be allied? You try your best to quash those thoughts. The Soviets are your allies, and the Major only kept his intel so Soviet analysts could take a look. They don’t have ulterior motives, you’re sure of it.

Your first order of business now is to check on Diane. Considering what you know about her, you can’t imagine that she’s taken her wound very well. Someone with an ego as big as hers gets it bruised easily. She’s been moved from a medic tent to the infirmary. That can’t be good news, maybe she suffered complications when they tried to remove the bullet. A spike of fear goes through your mind as you push the door to Diane’s room open. To your relief, she seems to be no worse for wear since you last saw her, gauze covers her wound instead of Josie’s hastily made bandage; her hair flows down her shoulders instead of being tied up in her usual braids. She sits up in her bed and stares out the window idly, moonlight making her silver hair shimmer slightly. Diane glares at you angrily as you close the door behind you. You attempt to defuse the tension with a quick smile, which accomplishes nothing. She crosses her arms and turns away from you.

“What do you want?”

This takes you aback.

[x] “Is that how you greet everyone who comes to check on you?”
[x] Ignore that, it’s just her bruised ego talking “You’re taking things well.”
[x] Write in

>>421543
>[x] Ignore that, it’s just her bruised ego talking “You’re taking things well.”

>>421543
>[x] Ignore that, it’s just her bruised ego talking “You’re taking things well.”

>>421543
>[x] Ignore that, it’s just her bruised ego talking “You’re taking things well.”

>>421543
>[x] Ignore that, it’s just her bruised ego talking “You’re taking things well.”

You have no idea why she’s upset with you, specifically. Maybe because you ordered her to fall back so that she wouldn’t bleed to death while trying to push herself to fight on? She doesn’t stop you as you sit next to her and her angry gaze softens very slightly. You can’t tell if she’s angry with you, or with herself anymore. There’s no reason to aggravate her more and decide to try to comfort her. She sighs, wincing in pain as her chest rises and then falls slowly.

“You’re taking things well, all things considered. You’ll be out of here in no time.”

She frowns at you and turns her eyes away from you, twisting a few locks of hair around her finger. “I shouldn’t even be here. I was careless, and we paid the price for it.” She grips a bundle of sheets in her fists, gritting her teeth in anger. “Imperfect.”

You tilt your head in confusion, there’s no reason for her to be upset with herself. There was no such thing as perfection in war. From what you’ve seen of her abilities, it’s not like she could have kept herself from getting shot.

“You made a mistake, so what? At least you aren’t dead.” She tugs on the sheets in her fists, the angry gaze of pure hatred returns to her eyes, and you steel yourself for whatever tirade she’s preparing for.

“So what? So. What? Do you know what happens when you make a mistake?

You open your mouth to answer, only for her to provide one for you

“You. Lose. And what happens when you lose?

“We-”

“Your country gets taken from you.” Tears pour liberally from her eyes, and her knuckles turn bone white as her grip tightens even more. You can’t formulate a response to her. America has been blessed, and the war hasn’t arrived on her shores. Yet.

“Your parents get taken from you. Your friends get taken from you. Because I wasn’t perfect. They’re gone because I made mistakes. What if you’re the next to be taken from me because I screw up.” Tears stain the sheets blow her a dark grey as they fall. You’re still shocked from her

[x] “I can take care of myself, y’know. And besides, worrying about others is supposed to be my job.”
[x] “We’re a team, if one of us messes up, there are three others to pick up the slack. We wouldn't need each other if we were all pefect, right?”
[x] Write in

>>421747
>[x] “We’re a team, if one of us messes up, there are three others to pick up the slack. We wouldn't need each other if we were all pefect, right?”

>>421747
>[x] “We’re a team, if one of us messes up, there are three others to pick up the slack. We wouldn't need each other if we were all pefect, right?”

You seem to have dropped a sentence fragment at the end there.

>>421747
>[x] “We’re a team, if one of us messes up, there are three others to pick up the slack. We wouldn't need each other if we were all pefect, right?”

>[x] Write in

And Diane. We're getting your country back. We're going to wreak vengeance for everyone who has been lost. And we're going to end this, probably imperfectly.

>>421747
>[x] “We’re a team, if one of us messes up, there are three others to pick up the slack. We wouldn't need each other if we were all perfect, right?”
>[x] Write in
HUG THE CRYING FRENCHIE.

>>421747
>[x] “We’re a team, if one of us messes up, there are three others to pick up the slack. We wouldn't need each other if we were all perfect, right?”
hug her then give a kiss on her cheek

Diane’s crying echos through the room. It’s rather jarring to see someone as composed and stable as Diane lose control of her emotions. There’s nothing words can do to express her emotions. There’s nothing you can say to soothe her pain. You haven’t had your entire life ripped away from you like she has. New York is still an American city, and your parents send you mail every weekend. She must have participated in both the failed defense, and failed attempted retaking of France. You wince as realization washes over you like a tidal wave. Words might not assuage her pain, but action might. You edge closer to her, and wrap your arms around her and pull the weeping Frenchwoman to your chest, holding her tightly, shirt growing damp as her tears soak it. Her sobbing slowly subsides and she rests her head against your shoulder. It’s only after she finally relaxes that you try talking to her.

“We’re a team, if one of us messes up, there are three others to pick up the slack. We wouldn't need each other if we were all perfect, right? We’ll protect each other from our mistakes.” You stroke her hair as you speak. She still doesn’t respond. You pull the suddenly fragile looking girl even closer to you, taking care not to irritate her wound.

“We're getting your country back. We're going to wreak vengeance for everyone who has been lost. And we're going to end this, probably imperfectly.” She finally reacts to you, and pulls you into her own hug. The warmth of Diane’s body and the bed slowly lull you to sleep. It reminds you of the first time you met her back at Camp Eisenhower, hopefully this won’t end with Diane smacking you around with a pillow.

“I’m glad that I have you and Josie with me.”

[x] Stay here, you’ll rest your eyes for a little bit
[x] No rest for the weary, you still have Soviets to talk to
[x] Write in

>>421884
>[x] Stay here, you’ll rest your eyes for a little bit

>>421884
>[x] Stay here, you’ll rest your eyes for a little bit

>>421884
>[x] Stay here, you’ll rest your eyes for a little bit

>>421884
>[x] Stay here, you’ll rest your eyes for a little bit

>>421884
>[x] No rest for the weary, you still have Soviets to talk to

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The allure of a good night’s sleep is far too strong. You still have to have a good talk with Blizzard and the Major about what they found in the Mausoleum. The rational part of your mind screams at you to go investigate the Soviets. That they’re no good backstabbing Red scum and have taken what belongs to the US. But fatigue overpowers the voice rather easily. Besides, it’s not like the Soviets are just going to up and vanish in the middle of the night. The Hexenkraft finding the Spear of Destiny poses as large a threat for them as it does for you. It seems that Diane’s fallen asleep resting against you, a look of peace on her face. You lay her down on her bed slowly, mindful to not jostle her awake, and find your place next to her. Diane’s soft, steady breathing are the last sounds you hear as sleep claims you.

You wake up surrounded by blackness. You reach out, trying to feel out where you are. You discover that you’re trapped in a box. A box made of stone. A coffin even, your breath hitches in your throat, and you slam against the lid to the coffin, shouting for someone to help you. Nobody hears you, or nobody cares. You aren’t too keen on being buried alive. You can hear people speaking outside, frantic shouting accompanied by a series of loud cracks and the gurgling screams of the dying and wounded. You don’t understand the words that are being spoken, you’ve never heard anyone speak them before. They soon die down as the stone covering your prison opens slightly, letting light and the hot desert air into. The sunlight blind your eyes. It hurts, fire incinerates your eyes. The light reveals a face carved into the stone close by your coffin, part of you remembers who this is. What they’ve done. Hatred wells inside your heart, hatred for a person you don’t know. The people outside mill around this carving, scribbling onto parchment of some kind.

You need to get out of here. Whatever’s going on out there can’t be good. You have to leave before they discover you. But, on that same token, you’re safe in here. The stone surrounding you is almost comforting and soft. Almost like a bed. Your mind reels as the two paths open up to you. The sound of steps grows ever closer to you, and the feeling of helplessness and sheer horror intensify tenfold. Desperation grips your mind, and you remember that you aren’t defenseless. A familiar warmth touches your right hand. The shaft of your weapon.

[x] Open the coffin. Kill them all.
[x] Open the coffin. Escape
[x] Stay inside. You’re scared.
[x] Write in

>>422071
>[x] Open the coffin. Escape

We need to get our bearings first before we start a-murdering

>>422071
[x] Open the coffin. Escape

Agreed. No killing till we are certain we aren't sleepwalking/hallucinating.

>>422071
>[x] Open the coffin. Escape

>>422071
>[x] Open the coffin. Escape

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>>422071
>[x] Open the coffin. Escape

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You push the coffin open, causing sand and dry heat to wash over you. The gem hanging from your necklace flares brightly as you move, as your mind regains purchase in reality. There are strange people outside, wearing strange clothing and covering their faces with strange masks. They yell in their indecipherable language as you ease the coffin open. The strange people point their strange tools at you, and you raise your hands, attempting to show that you’re no threat.

They don’t seem to understand, and yell more at you. Why are they so angry? Have you wronged them in some way? You can feel blue streaks approach you, and your flesh is rent by featherless metal arrows. You stumble back as they impact you, pain runs through your body, but no blood comes from the holes they make. The gem glows even brighter as you suffer the wounds. The strange men seem afraid of you, now that you’ve survived their attack. You hold off on retaliating, you would rather not antagonize the king these soldiers belonged to. They flee frantically, and others run towards you, to assist their comrades. You lift a hand, and a familiar surge of magic flows through it, the sand beneath the approaching men swallow their feet, trapping them in the desert. They don’t seem very happy to have been trapped by you. You venture further out of the tomb. The world has changed, or you have forgotten everything. The ground rumbles and a disgusting, acrid scent fills the air. You wrinkle your nose in response, it smells like nothing on this earth.

A metal beast challenges you, smoke pouring from holes in the monster. You want to run, to hide. But you haven’t been a person to refuse challenges. An explosion rips through your ears, and flame consumes the sand around you, spots where the fire bloomed turning to glass. Metal bits cut through your body, and you fold in pain as some of them graze the crystal adorning your necklace. You respond much like you did with the angry men, and the earth rises to swallow the creature, it sinks into the shifting sands and it’s snout is snared by sand. You walk past the thing as men run out of the entrapped creature. You walk past it, eventually finding yourself in the desert. You scan the area, hoping to find something familiar. Only to find nothing, none of the people you swore to protect, none of the works that they made in your honor. You must not have found them yet. They must have moved elsewhere. And so you walk.

And walk.

After what seems like an eternity you fall to your knees. There is nothing. Your face meets the steaming hot sands.

And you weep.

[1/2]

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[2/2]

Your eyes shoot open, and you find that you’re practically hyperventilating. Sweat drenches your clothing and the bed. You touch the sides of your face to find tears rolling down your face. Diane clutches you, arms wrapped around your side, head against your chest.

What an odd dream. It seemed so real.

[x] It’s nothing, go about your plans for the day
[x] Tell someone, anyone about your dream
[x] Write in

>>422219
>[x] It’s nothing, go about your plans for the day

>>422219
>[x] Tell someone, anyone about your dream
Assuming there's an expert on crazy mystical bullshit in the area.

>>422219
>[x] Search the desert near the temple.

These kinds of dreams only happen if and when something important happens. And seeing as the gem was VERY similar to the one that Josie found, it' safe to assume that whatever happened in our dream is related to the temple.

>>422250
>>[x] Search the desert near the temple.

>>422250
Seconding

>>422219
>[x] Tell someone, anyone about your dream

And
>>422250

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Your head pounds and throbs as you fully return to the world of the awake. Diane finally stirs as you sit up, her hair’s a mess and it looks like she hasn’t gotten a restful night of sleep either. You smile at her, and wonder if she had a similar dream. That’s crazy talk, but it seems like this place is just a magnet for bizarre occurrences. You wouldn’t count that as impossible just yet. Diane rubs her eyes groggily, and she quickly notices your state, and glances away from you

“Nightmare? I had one too.” So you were right. Kind of. You doubt that she had dreams about some weird girl escaping a temple in the middle of the desert. The silver haired girl finally lets go of you, you sense a bit of reluctance as she does.

“I guess. I can’t really explain mine, I’m not even sure if it was a nightmare.” She shrugs, still looking as frail and fragile as last night. A far cry from the Diane you’re used to seeing.

“I-I don’t know much about dreams, so I-I can’t help you there.” You never asked for it, and leave Diane with one last hug. After leaving the infirmary, you see a rather perturbed looking Josie. Her eyes light up once she spots you, she barely manages to hide her fear of something. Maybe you spooked her too much last night. She runs up to you and grabs your shoulders, staring into your eyes.

“Hey, listen, we gotta go back to that temple under the Pyramids. Right now.”

“Josie, I was kidding around, you’re not actually cursed.”

“I’m not kidding though, boss! I swear that my necklace talked to me last night! It told me to break it, to let someone out of there! We gotta go back, please please please.” She looks to be on the verge of tears.

“And did you?”

“No way! Who knows what creepy old ghost I’d be setting free” Well, at least she has enough common sense to do that.

You arrange for your team to be deployed into the temple as soon as possible. It appears that the Allies are looking into these ruins too. Your team is the first troop carrier out to the Mausoleum. Professor Avdol’s in the same carrier as you, and has more energy and giddiness than a kid in a candy store.

“Hey, Doc Avdol. What did the Babylonians think of dreams? I had a weird one last night.” You figure that Professor Avdol would be your best bet on such a strange topic as this. He turns to you with a smile bright enough to blot out the sun.

“Well, the Babylonians believed that dreams were looking glasses into other worlds. Or other lives. They often used magic to create dreams they believe were prophetic, but, some people manipulated what the dreamer saw, so the practice was abandoned.” Huh, it’s not much to go off of, but it’s still something.

[2/2]

You finally arrive at the Babylonian Mausoleum, the chill of the place becoming familiar to you. These people really like their straight aways, and you find the rooms you found during your last visit with ease. Allied troops fan out, ready for anything. It seems that the Hexenkraft haven’t re-established themselves here. At least not in the first few rooms of the Mausoleum. Erika’s taken a Browning Automatic Rifle with her, carefully watching the coffins. Her last encounter with the walking dead must have left a bad impression on her. You can hardly blame her. Josie quickly darts down the hallways, seeming to know exactly where she’s going. You leave Erika behind with the other Allied soldiers as you chase after Josie.

She stops at a room with yet another massive coffin, she’s left the gold behind on a table in front of the sarcophagus. This one’s has the image of a very muscular person carved onto it, it seems the ages haven’t been as kind to this coffin as the other ones. You can hardly tell what the carving is supposed to be depicting. You suppose it’s supposed to be another girl, but who knows. Josie stand stupefied in front of it, necklace dangling precariously from her hand, ready to drop it.

You can swear that you hear someone say “Open...”

[x] Don’t let Josie drop the necklace, no matter what
[x] What’s the worse that could happen
[x] Write in

>>422410
>[x] What’s the worse that could happen
right right guys

>>422410
>[x] Don’t let Josie drop the necklace, no matter what

>>422410
>[x] Don’t let Josie drop the necklace, no matter what

>>422410
>[x] Don’t let Josie drop the necklace, no matter what
You gave us taunting murphy as the other option. What did you expect?

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“What do you think you’re doing Josie?!” You shout at her, she doesn’t respond. You jab her in the arm, this does nothing but send the necklace closer to slipping off her finger. You try taking the necklace for her by force, but she just closes her fists into a near unbreakable grip. After much harder tugging, you manage to pull the gem off the necklace, and set it on the table with the rest of Josie’s pilfered goods. The gem glows an angry yellow, apparently the spirit doesn’t like having its plans foiled so easily. The boxer finally seems to regain her senses, shaking her head as she does. You can hear that voice curse you, growing quieter and quieter. Yeah, not today. Josie rubs her temple slowly, as her vision clears.

“I feel like I’ve taken a few hits to the head. The hell happened to me.” You giggle at her misfortune.

“That’ll teach you to take things that don’t belong to you. Especially if they belonged to dead people.” Josie pouts as she cross her arms at faces away from you. The sound of running footsteps fills the halls, and soon afterwards Erika and Diane are here to meet you. Erika’s glancing around nervously, aiming her BAR at whatever looks even marginally suspicious.

“I wouldn’t advise wandering off alone here. Who knows what surprises the Babylonians have in store for us.” You take Erika’s advice to heart, hoping that giant skeletons would be the worse you’d have to face.

Luckily for you, there’s nothing worse than dust and the odd creepy carving waiting for you as you explore. Eventually, you find your way to yet another room with a stone coffin in the center of it. Strange, masks like faces adorn the ceiling of this room, all staring down onto the coffin at the center. You recognize those masks, but at the same time, you don’t. They were the same, fanged masks that you saw in your dream. What is it with these people and coffins. Those questions are pushed aside as Diane shoves you down into the floor, the other magical girls go to ground as well. Two Hexenkraft soldiers, inhumanely muscular and coated in armor that contours to their builds. The faces are a deathly pale, and their eyes are glassy, and don’t seem to work. You doubt that. Are these prototypes? You don’t even want to know what the Hexenkraft did to those men. You’d rather not have nightmares.

The person the two former humans is relatively familiar to you. The officer from your first expedition into the Mausoleum. He stands ramrod straight as he appraises the sarcophagus. He motions for the two monsters to open it, and they do so by bringing their fists into it. Ancient rock yields to their hammer like fists, revealing a nearly perfectly preserved, brown skinned man inside it. The soldiers lift him out of his coffin, and carry him over their shoulders. The officer takes this time to speak into a radio. You don’t recognize much, but you do hear one word.
[1/2]

Dracula.

The trio leaves your sight, and soon after, gunfire erupts behind you. The sounds of battle echo down the halls to reach your ears. Was this a trap? Worry strikes your mind. The Professor. You’ve left him behind.

“Dracula?! What if she’s here? Let me at her, boss!”
You have to physically hold Josie down to keep her from charging the escaping trio.

This is not good.

[x] Get back, reinforce the Allied soldiers
[x] The soldiers will have to hold out for now, that officer’s your priority now
[x] Write in

That'll do it for me for tonight, hope you all had fun! Here's my twitter, so you can keep up with me: https://twitter.com/kojimaQM

>>422608
>[x] Get back, reinforce the Allied soldiers

>>422608
>[x] Get back, reinforce the Allied soldiers

>>422608
>[x] Get back, reinforce the Allied soldiers

>>422608
Thanks for running QM

File: RIP.jpg (33 KB, 400x473)

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Losing someone as versed in Babylonian studies as Avdol would be a massive blow to this whole operation. Him getting captured would be ten times worse, his capture might just spell the end of the war right here and now. Though you’re loathe to just let these goons just walk out of here unscathed, Avdol is your priority here. Those new soldiers look like they pack a punch too, and you have no idea what the Hexenkraft have cooked up for them. You wait for them to completely leave your vision, before you rise to your feet run back to the first room as quickly as your legs can carry you. The sounds of gunfire are starting to die down, and you hope to God that you aren’t too late. You’re greeted by a gruesome sight, dozens of Allied soldiers cover the ground, some of them look like they’ve turned their own weapons on themselves. The number of dead Hexengrenadiers is disproportionately few. Hatred fills Erika’s face as she comes to the same conclusion as you do, Marionette’s here. That worsens things. By a lot.

The sounds of weapons fire come through the entrance of the Mausoleum, you even hear the resonating boom of a Sherman’s main gun opening up. it seems that reinforcements have arrived. You aren’t sure if they’re going to be of any help. Your heart sinks as you hear a mad cackle from outside.

“A new toy? For me?! You shouldn’t have! You Americans aren’t as mean as Kommandant von Thule says.”

Damn it all. Your team bursts from the Mausoleum in their transformed forms, and both factions stop to stare at you. Avdol is nowhere to be seen. Even the commander of the Sherman pokes his head of of the cupola to stare at you.

“Magical girls! They’re done for! Give ‘em a hand boys!”

That soldier’s voice seems to cause time to resume, and the battle in the desert continues to rage. The Americans fall in behind you, unloading onto their superhuman adversaries. The Hexengrenadiers give their own magical girl a wide berth. She has a look of smug disinterest on her bespectacled face, her raven black hair sways in the wind. The anachronistic musket that’s resting on her shoulder doesn’t look loaded.

“New playmates too? My birthday has come early!”

[x] Deal with the Hexengrenadiers first, support your troops
[x] Handle Marionette first
[x] Write in

Give me a d20, I'll take the highest

Rolled 8 (1d20)

>>425220
>[x] Handle Marionette first
SHOOT HER ERIKA

Alright, writing now, sorry for the wait

>>425728
No problem QM, most of your audience not showing up is mighty depressing

>>425728
Sorry for the delay in showing up, mate, been busy. I'm going to catch up to try and help out.

File: rip-chan.jpg (125 KB, 774x1032)

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Marionette is the biggest threat on the field right now, the normal human soldiers might struggle against the Hexengrenadiers, but they stand no chance against a magical girl. You’d rather not see Marionette’s abilities in action. You summon your hammer, and barrel through the Hexenkraft lines. Their soldiers try to stop you, from getting to their commanding officer, but having to deal with 3 other magical girls, and a mechanized platoon of Allied troops is making this hard for them. One lucky Hexengrenadier manages to bar your way, a victorious smile crosses his face as he forces you to the ground under the sheer weight of fire from his MG42. He practically cheers over the roaring of his weapon as he suppresses you.

“Ich hab dich!”

The characteristic report of Erika’s 88 replies to him, and him and his squadmates are consumed in fire and shrapnel from a high explosive shell. He’s much quieter now. Marionette’s smug expression hasn’t changed at all, and she takes a small parasol from her bag, observing the battle with boredom. The desire to wipe that smile off her face increases tenfold. You glance over at Erika, and it seems that she has the same idea, and she levels the 88 at her. Another high explosive shell whistles towards her.

“Eat this, miststück!” Marionette doesn’t respond, only jumping out of the way seconds before the shell impacts with the side of her head. Shrapnel slices through her back, and she turns an angry gaze towards Erika. Her musket comes to life, and aims towards Erika’s head.

“Traitor! You’re the real bitch here! I’ll never forgive you!” Her musket explodes, and it’s shot tears through Erika’s cheek, blood flies through the air as Erika’s head whips backwards. You take the opportunity to close in with the magical girl, and slam your hammer into her shoulder. The pop and snap of bone and muscle is mighty satisfying. She drops her musket as she clutches the wounded arm with her other one. Her glare turns to you

“You’re the American who took our Erika from us. I’ll let you live if you give her back.” There’s only one possible answer here.

“No.”

She screams in rage as she finally transforms, her desert uniform being replaced with a frilly, almost gothic dress. Her musket floats back into her hands, it’s barrel glows a sickly blue. Blue strings whip from her hands, and speed towards you.

Oh no.

Give me a d20 to dodge.

Rolled 17 (1d20)

>>425865
Ninja dodge!

Rolled 3 (1d20)

>>425865
Here we go!

Rolled 14 (1d20)

>>425865

The prospect of being Marionette’s slave doesn’t really appeal to you, and you leap out of the way, using your excess momentum to roll away from her puppet strings. You can feel your thoughts growing sluggish as they fly past you, trying to keep up with your evasive maneuvers. One glowing tentacle manages to ensnare your leg, in response, you urge the ground beneath you to help, the sands respond, rising up to sever the cord. This elicits an unearthly scream from Marionette, and her anger for you magnifies. It’s your turn to give her a smug smile. Blood drips from the shrapnel wounds in her back. She must be getting desperate by now.

“Just let me take you, you’ll enjoy it I swear!” You shudder, and feel the need to take a cold shower right this instant. She levels her musket with your face, arms shaking thanks to exhausting and blood loss. You doubt that she’d be able to hit you, but from this range it’d hurt if she did.

“I’ll just have to kill you then! Your corpse will make a fine puppet!” You roll your eyes, there must be something in Hexenkraft’s water supply that makes them all invariably crazy. You answer her with another hammer strike, this one to the chest. It sends her flying through the air, smashing into a boulder. She slowly gets up, by now she knows that she’s beaten, and glances around her. Her troops are in tatters, and are falling back in an orderly fashion. The Allied platoon has been similarly mauled, but with Josie and Diane’s support, they’re actually managing to push the Hexengrenadiers back. The Sherman is pockmarked with bullet holes, and it’s left track has been torn off, and it’s crew is hesitant to get out and fix it, lest they get riddled with holes themselves.

“We’re done here! Fall back, schnell!”

[x] Push your advantage, don’t let Marionette get away.
[x] You’ve beaten Hexenkraft back three times, they have to be hurting by now. Regroup and plan your next move
[x] Write in

>>426020
>[x] Push your advantage, don’t let Marionette get away.

>>426020
>[x] Push your advantage, don’t let Marionette get away.

>>426020
>[x] You’ve beaten Hexenkraft back three times, they have to be hurting by now. Regroup and plan your next move

>>426020
>[x] Push your advantage, don’t let Marionette get away.

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Marionette has been a thorn in your side since your arrival to Egypt. With her ambushes and her minions trying to break into ancient tombs. You’ve had enough, and now you have the chance to finally yank this thorn out and go on the offensive. The ordinary troops have taken a beating, sure, but this fight was much less one sided now that they have two magical girls and a good old fashioned American tank supporting them. Plus, you have reinforcements to call on, they don’t. The crew of the Sherman’s busying replacing their damaged track with a spare, while the soldiers establish a perimeter and care for their wounded. The Hexenkraft have taken this opportunity to get to their transports and finally vanish. They couldn’t have gotten far. An idea springs to your mind when you hear the Sherman’s crew talk.

“Track’s back on, sir, we’re ready to move.” You put on your best, most charming smile possible and waltz up to the commander of the tank, who’s in the process of congratulating his crew for a job well done.

“Mind giving me a ride? I need to give those Nazis a stern talking to, but they’re so far away. And it’s just soooooooo hot. Can you help a girl out?” You finish off your attempt at charm with a wink. The commander gives you an unamused look, as if he’s had to deal with magical girls soliciting rides from him before

“Ma’am, the M4A3 isn’t designed for passengers, and it’s cramped as is.” You nod, and pat the side of the tank. He takes the hint very quickly

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

He sighs and mutters something under his breath, and you pretend not to hear it. You call the other members of your team. Diane and Erika give you the same look as the commander did, but Josie on the other hand is excited as ever.

“I’ve never taken a ride on a tank before!” You haven’t done this either, and you aren’t sure if this is going to work, but you can’t think of any faster alternatives. You hop on, and bang on the turret.

“Gun it, they’re not gonna wait for us!” The driver complies, and you’re almost sent flying off the Sherman,

The tank tears through the sands with ease, and eventually, half-tracks come into view. They don’t seem to be aware of your presence yet.

“What’s the next step in this plan of yours?”

[x] Have the Sherman engage the convoy, clean up after it
[x] Jump off once you’re close enough, maybe you can capture Marionette, or some other officer
[x] Have the Sherman cut them off.
[x] Write in

>>426148
>[x] Have the Sherman cut them off.

>>426148
>[x] Have the Sherman engage the convoy, clean up after it

>>426148

>>426148
>[x] Have the Sherman cut them off.

You wonder how the Krauts feel about having a thirty ton tank suddenly blocking their way. The commander emerges from his cupola to spot the convoy. He looks down at you. The Sherman continues its breakneck charge towards the convoy, relying on the engines of the half tracks to mask its approach

“You might wanna get off soon, who knows what kind of gear they’re packing in there, dunno how well you’d stand up to AT rifle fire.” You shrug and give him a reassuring smile, that doesn’t accomplish much.

“I got smacked around by a giant skeleton, and I’m still here, I doubt they can do much worse than. Cut them off, I don’t want them escaping.” He nods, and ducks back into the turret, slamming the hatch closed. The Sherman speeds along, barely managing to overtake the half tracks in speed. It swerves to the left, almost sending you into the sand, and the convoy screeches to a halt. You take that as your cue to jump off and get cracking. One of the half-tracks’ machine guns opens fire on where you were sitting, raking the tank’s armor and doing little more but scratching it’s paint. Hexengrenadiers dismount, only to get scythed down by the coaxial gun. One of the grenadiers emerges from the back of the half-track with a shoulder fired rocket. Diane’s the first to spot him, and she leaps forward, burying her rapier in his gut. It seems that not a whole lot of them are still fit to fight after your earlier encounter with them. Marionette stumbles out of one of the vehicles, a bandage wrapped around her chest, one that’s soaked with blood on her back. She collapses to her knees, and puts her hands behind her head. Many of the Hexengrenadiers drop their rifles and raise their arms into the air, knowing that they could hardly dent the armor of the Sherman. They might be fanatically loyal, but it seems that they aren’t stupid.

“Congratulations, Victory. You’ve beaten me. Now get on with it.” You tilt your head in confusion.

“Get on with what.”

Marionette laughs, head tilted towards the sky.

“Don’t try to play dumb with me, I know how you Americans treat your prisoners. I’d rather not suffer the humiliation.”

Erika’s steel hands ball into fists, looking ready to execute Marionette herself. She looks at you, and seems to relax slightly.


[x] “You don’t get a choice in the matter.” Take her into custody
[x] “Very well.” Kill her, and have the Sherman kill her troops
[x] Hand her off to Erika, let her do whatever she wants
[x] Write in

>>426255
>[x] “You don’t get a choice in the matter.” Take her into custody
Laws of war and all that, and also valuable intelligence

>>426255
>[x] “You don’t get a choice in the matter.” Take her into custody

>>426255
>[x] “You don’t get a choice in the matter.” Take her into custody

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You give the surrendering magical girl a laugh of your own. A humorless, dry laugh directly into her face. This takes the Hexenkraft officer aback, and you think you spot fear in her eyes. Good, maybe she’ll be more willing to cooperate now that she’s afraid. The others raise an eyebrow at you, probably wondering if you’ve finally lost your marbles.

“You don’t get to order me around, prisoner.” You enunciate every syllable of the word, making sure that she fully understands the gravity of her situation. Now that’s she’s properly cowed into obedience, there’s the problem of transporting her, and the dozen or so enhanced individuals that accompany her. You don’t have way to keep her from transforming and worming her way into the brains of you or your girls. She’d have a pretty easy time of that if you decide to shove her into or onto the Sherman with you. Both Erika and the commander of the Sherman are one step ahead of you. You doubt that Marionette’s breaking out of Erika’s grip any time soon. She giggles as the defector restrains her.
“I like your new accessories, Erika. They suit you.” This earns her a slap across the face from Erika, which only elicits more giggling from the crazed German.

“Hurt me more Panzer.” Gross. You hope that Hexenkraft’s running low on insane magical girls, but with a leader like Dracula, you really, really doubt they are. The Sherman’s commander radios for additional transports, and handcuffs. Erika stares intently at Marionette, as if trying to hold herself back from beating the girl to a pulp. Within half an hour, the transports arrive, and your captives are crowded onto them. You insist on being in Marionette’s. She hums what appears to be a marching tune as you return to base. Might as well get started on the interrogation.

What do you ask her?

>>426326
Where is Dracula? What are you trying to do? Where are you all going? How many more magical girls do you have?

I'm gonna call it here, since I'm too tired, I'll be here tomorrow at the same time, hopefully earlier. feel free to keep voting when I'm gone

Twitter's here: https://twitter.com/kojimaQM

>>426370
Thanks for running QM!

>>426370
Thanks for running mate!

You cross your legs as you observe your prisoner. She hardly seems fazed by her situation, and seems more interested in her nails than anything. The MPs accompanying you in the wheeled troop carrier give her a wide berth, and a few of them shoot her dirty looks. Their hands rest on the grips of their weapons, ready to ventilate her the moment she even thinks about trying anything. You wonder just how much information you’re going to be able to glean from her. Marionette seemed rather, unstable during the fight. And you wonder if she’s going to stop saying weird things when you’ve locked her up properly. The Hexenkraft magical girl plays with her hair, looking almost innocent in that moment. You almost have to remind yourself that she’s a ruthless, unscrupulous, manipulative, girl who’d be more than willing to enslave you if given the chance, and wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep doing it. You gaze hard into Marionette’s eyes, and she gives you a saccharine smile in return.

“Well, I’m at your mercy~.There’s no waaaay I could escape. Get on with the torture then.” She pulls on her cuffs, as if she’s trying to prove her point.

You frown and shift around in your seat uncomfortably. Maybe this is something they’ve trained her for, act like an idiot in order to throw her captors off. You scoff at the thought.

“Cut the crap, I’m not in the mood to play games with you right now.” Her smile doesn’t leave her face.

“But I like games, fraulein Victory, or should I say, Victoria Jones.” You roll your eyes, and you can see her smile drop ever so slightly

“Not my name. Where’s Dracula.” She shrugs as best she can in her restraints. So it seems that she doesn’t plan on being receptive to you. You’re not a keen on proving her point. Only Krauts torture their prisoners, after all.

“In the Middle East, probably poking her nose in Iran or Iraq, do I look like her babysitter to you?” She turns her nose up at you dismissively.
“You’ll do, for now. What are you doing here?” Marionette lets out another one of her hyena laughs, and the MPs scoot even further away from her.

“The same thing you are, my American friend. Looking for ways to win the war. Though you might have kept us from one way, we did get away with one. Dracula’s very happy with what we’ve taken from the Mausoleum, even if Hitler isn’t.”

Hm, interesting, you suspect that there might be some tension between the Hexenkraft and the Nazis. But there’s no way to tell for sure just yet. “Very happy? With what?” Marionette cracks her neck audibly and gives you an noncommittal shrug.

“Something about ascending, because of the Blooddrinker’s blood. I never cared much about this Babylonian mumbo-jumbo. Just that our lovely Dracula wanted something, and we should do all we can for her” You can practically see the hearts replacing the magical girl’s pupils. You’d have to send her to a psychiatrist at some some point. Blooddrinker, huh. That’s not a very subtle name, now is it. The transports finally screech to a halt, and the prisoners are herded away to the brig. At least a dozen guns and itchy trigger fingers are pointed at them, just daring them to try and escape. Marionette follows suit, and you hold her back, for one last question. Other troops, accompanied by walkers storm around the base, Freikorpsmen accompany Allied soldiers onto half-tracks.

“How many magical girls do you have?” She giggles

“A whole school full. We would have more, but your grey haired whore of a girlfriend there burned on the dorms down when she had her hissyfit. I know about at least two more.” You sock her in the jaw. She just gives you a toothy grin in reply.

[x] Check in with the Handler, see what the hubbub is about
[x] Get to know your prisoner, maybe you can get her to lower her guard
[x] You still haven’t had a chance to have a talk with the Soviets about their intelligence yet, you should do that.
[x] Write in

>>428674
>[x] You still haven’t had a chance to have a talk with the Soviets about their intelligence yet, you should do that.

alright, updating

>>429088
>[x] “I’d love to work with you again!”
we soul hunters now

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You finally a slight amount of downtime on the base. The Soviet side of the airbase is just as busy as your side is. The clanking of power armor against pavement resounds through the base, as Spetsnaz troops stomp their way around the main staging area of the base. A stern voice sounds over loudspeakers, stoically giving commands to his subordinates all in Russian. The Soviet troops hardly have time to pay attention to a girl like you, and some push right past you without a second thought. After pushing your way through this morass of men and steel, you find yourself back at Blizzard’s command tent. Cossack stands guard outside, idly twirling her lance in her hand. The small blonde gives you a broad smile as you approach
“Blizzard and Major Adamska are both waiting inside.” She claps you on the back. “Big things are happening, tovarich. I hope you’ll be with us through it.”

The Major and Blizzard are both pouring over series of maps, all marked with bright red Xes sporadically around the desert. Documents with Babylonian hieroglyphics accompany the map. They hardly acknowledge your presence until you slam your hands against the table. “What’re you two reading?” They simultaneously jump back and their eyes shoot up at you. They look remarkably similar, a fact that you haven’t noticed until now. Curly blonde hair, and ice blue eyes. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that they were mother and son. Blizzard is the one to break the silence.


“I believe we have the Hexenkraft, ‘on the ropes’ as you Amerikanski would say. After you pushed them out of the resurrection section of the Mausoleum, they’ve been poking around for other Babylonian treasures.” She examines one of the documents closely. “They’re looking for ways to give mundane people magical abilities. Not unlike the ones that you and I posses. Or, they want grant more of their troops ‘half gifts.’ Like Major Adamska.” He shifts uncomfortably in the seat as Blizzard uses the term.

“So is that what you’ve managed to learn from those scrolls you didn’t feel like sharing?”

Blizzard doesn’t seem fazed by this, and shrugs.

“Indeed, the information in those scrolls could have been detrimental to Soviet state security.” It could have been detrimental to US national security too. But that’s behind you now, at least they’ve put all their cards on the table, as far as you know, at least. Blizzard continues with her explanation.

File: ocelot.jpg (107 KB, 780x1382)

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“They intend to achieve this through the use of spiritstones. Gems that contain the souls of exceptionally powerful Babylonian magicians. These contained their souls, while the sarcophaguses contained their bodies. Legend has it that they would bestow their gifts, or would come to the aid of those with wills strong enough to. We are going to stop them. Can I rely on you and your unit’s assistance once more?”

[x] “I have other plans.”
[x] “I’d love to work with you again!”
[x] Write in

>>429110
>[x] "We'd be happy to work with you again...provided you be a bit more willing to share what you find, and find out. We are allies after all, aren't we?"
NEVER TRUST A COMMUNIST

>>429110
>[x] “I’d love to work with you again!”

>>429110
>[x] "We'd be happy to work with you again...provided you be a bit more willing to share what you find, and find out. We are allies after all, aren't we?"

>>429110
>[x] “I’d love to work with you again!”
Maybe not love. But at least tolerate.

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You lean back, taking one of the pencils from the desk, and twirling it between your fingers. You shoot Blizzard a sly smile. You aren’t too versed in diplomacy, but you suppose you could use this opportunity to practice. The unspoken nuances between you and Blizzard seem to go right over Major Adamska’s head, and he glances at her in confusion

“Ma’am, if I ma-” Blizzard shushes him with a finger.

“I think our American friend here has something she wants to say, no? Please, show some respect and let our guest speak first.”

“It’s no big deal, Blizzard. I was just wondering, we are allies in this war correct?” The magical girl gives you a slow nod. Now’s the time to deliver the killing blow on her, lean your arms against the table and prop your head on them.

“Correct.”

“Then, pray tell, when will you start acting like it?” Blizzard’s eyes widen, and she’s speechless for several seconds. The Major raises an eyebrow at you, you don’t give him any answers either. The pencil returns you your fingers and flips in between them.

“There’s no reason that we can’t be open with each other in what we find, and find out. This is the only condition I’ll impose on you. Success against the Axis trumps state security for now, at least. Wouldn’t you agree?” You relish watching Blizzard’s facade crack slowly. She gives you the falsest smile you’ve ever seen. You wonder why the ice queen herself folded so easily. Maybe she didn’t think success was possible without you?

“Agreed, Victory. I’ll prepare for our expedition. Please do the same.” Blizzard stiffly rises from her chair, and motions for Adamska to follow her. They leave the tent together. You can see Cossack’s silhouette from behind the entrance flaps of the tent. Was she trying to eavesdrop? She scrambles back to her post as Blizzard leaves.

You can feel a ton of rocks lift from your shoulder as you leave the tent yourself, only to be met with Cossack gluing herself to your side.

“You showed Blizzard, about time someone put her in her place!” You struggle to escape the girl’s iron grip. It’s only when you pat her head that she finally relinquishes you. You gather your team by the motor pool of the base, and give them a quick briefing on your mission.

Diane rolls her eyes, clearly not happy about having to work with Soviets again. When you ask her about it, she only gives you a nervous look.

“Communists and proles aren’t very happy with my family. To put things simply.” You decide that now’s not the time to push the topic. You pile onto a transport walker, obviously designed for heavier cargo than a few magical girls. Weapons line the racks of the six legged walker. It bellows to life once the driver starts in, choking smoke filling the air around you.

It’s much slower than a half track, but trades speed for a trio of machine guns. You figure that you have some time to keep talking. And Josie listens with rapt attention as you mention the spiritstones.

File: like this but prettier.jpg (84 KB, 574x388)

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“S-so I might have had some really old magical girl locked in my necklace.” It’s more than likely, though you don’t know what said girl’s intentions would be if you just let her out. Several minutes later, and you meet up with the Soviet’s transport. It leads you away from the Mausoleum entrance you usually employ. This one’s much closer to the Pyramids, allowing you to bask in their glory for at least a few minutes. You wonder if the ancient Egyptians had the same fascination with the Babylonians as modern people do. The transports stop behind a massive sand dune. The Major motions for you dismount, and climb up the dune. Granite columns reach out from the sand, surrounding another granite entrance. The sight of guards makes your heart sink. More of those strange Hexenkraft soldiers, three of them this time.

You can hear something, a voice sprouts from the back of your mind to the front. You shudder at the unfamiliar experience. The voice clearly belongs to a girl, but it mumbles and burbles strangely. It becomes clearer and clearer until you can make out two familiar words, and the voice tugs your mind in the direction of the entrance.

“Helphelphelpquickquickquick”

[x] Gather your bearings, deal with these soldiers first
[x]you have to help her
[x] Find some way to distract the guards, and then get in
[x] Write in

>>429343
>[x] Gather your bearings, deal with these soldiers first

>>429343
>[x] Gather your bearings, deal with these soldiers first

>>429343
>[x] Gather your bearings, deal with these soldiers first

>>429343
>[x]you have to help her

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You shake your head, in an attempt to clear your thoughts. Charging into the Mausoleum recklessly would spell your doom. You can’t let this ghost cloud your judgement. Especially with those giants standing guard. You suppose now’s a better time than any to figure out what these brutes can do. You’ve got six other soldiers with you now. That’s twice the number they have. You hide behind a the dune, and reemerge from it in your magical girl outfit. The soldiers level their weapons at you, the flare with power before unleashing it in blue lances of energy that streak towards you. You will the earth to rise to your aid. Rock shoots from the sand, and sizzles as their beams strike it. The others get the message, and being engaging these armored troops. Erika’s 88 roars to life, shrapnel cuts through the air around the soldiers, and smoke clouds the air.

They’re dead. They have to be.

“That’s not right. That’s not right.”

Your collective jaws hit the sand when they emerge from the cloud, relatively unscathed. Sickly orange blood drips from the handful of wounds that the blast did manage to cause. What did Hexenkraft pump into these people? You’re shocked beyond words. Erika is as well. The Major is still taking ineffective potshots at them with his Mosin. You do what’s the least rational in this situation, and you charge them, hammer held high.

“Stay back!” The soldiers answer your challenge with a bellowing roar, more appropriate for some wild animal rather than a human

Roll me a d20, I’ll take the highest

Rolled 7 (1d20)

>>429501
KNOCK THEIR HEADS OFF

Rolled 17 (1d20)

>>429501

It's still best out of three, right?

>>429508
Yes

Rolled 8 (1d20)

>>429501

>>429511
y didnt you roll?
>>429508
saved us all

>>429516
>y didnt you roll?
He's the QM

>>429518
.......... i didnt look

You don’t expect to survive this. What good is your hammer going to be if they took an eighty eight millimeter shell on the chin and kept on going. You yell incoherently and aim for what you think is a gap in their armor between their helmets and the rest of their torsos, a small one to let their necks move, it’ll have to do.

“Ha! You’re not so tough!” The hammer meets the leathery, tough flesh of the inhuman soldier, it cuts through it with some resistance, but not as deeply as you would have prefered. You can see the man’s gooey, sap like blood trickle from the wound and onto your maul. He stares at you blankly, before grabbing your weapon by the shaft and flinging you away. You’re back slams against a pillar, and you slump to the ground. You’d be concerned, if you didn’t see Cossack following you, lance straight and steady. The soldier manages to squeeze one, last desperate shot at you, and it singes the side of your face. Josie and Diane flank her, fists glowing, and rapier drawn respectively.

“Uraaaa!”

Cossack’s lance goes straight into one of the soldier’s chestplate, undeterred by the material.It stops suddenly as if there was something it couldn’t pierce in the soldier. Cossack flings his limp corpse away. She stands triumphantly in front of the his other two comrades, daring them to try to hit her.

They don’t get the chance, as Josie and Diane entangle themselves with the troopers. They fire wildly in an attempt to hit anything, but eventually give up on trying to shoot the melee combatants, and instead use their rifles like crude clubs, trying their best to keep up with the fencer and the boxer.

“Please, at least pretend to be trying.” You don’t think Diane’s taunt has any effect on them, but her rapier sure does. It’s a blur of silver as she swipes it across the Hexenkraft soldier’s armor, easily cutting through it’s weak points, and into his flesh. What seems to to be a thousand cuts later, and the brute lies motionless.

Josie’s having a bit more fun with her prey. She catches the rifle as the soldier clumsily tries to brain her with it. She smirks as she tosses it away, and replies with hard right jab to the faceplate, denting it. She’s merciless, and grabs onto the trooper’s neck, slamming her knee into the soldier’s cuirass until it cracks open, revealing brown, dry skin. She doesn’t relent, and keeps at it until the man’s bones crack and splinter.

Blizzard claps slowly as she descends from the dune, accompanied by the Major. Erika runs to follow them

“Well done, well done. I can see that I made the right choice in picking you to help.” Whatever. The team descends into the frigid depths of the Mausoleum. As the adrenaline subsides from your system, the voice begins to crop up again, this time tugging your thoughts to a room to the left.

“Pleasehelppleasehelppleasehelp.”

>>429572
[x] Look for any other Hexenkraft troops, whoever this is can wait.
[x] Go to the left.
[x] Write in

>>429572
>[x] Go to the left.

>>429572
>[x] Go to the left.

>>429572
>[x] Look for any other Hexenkraft troops, whoever this is can wait.

>>429574
>[x] Go to the left.
Why not?
I can think of numerous reasons.

to the left to the left

File: 1464236848563.png (222 KB, 500x500)

222 KB PNG

>>429574
>[x]To the left

We are totally going to regret this.

File: red stone of aja.jpg (39 KB, 400x600)

39 KB JPG

You feel yourself compelled to go follow this voice. They’re probably another magical girl. Or, a girl from a period of time where magic was more widespread. Either way, there’s no reason to be afraid of her. She’s like you. And she needs your help. What kind of American would you be if you refused someone looking for help? You head to the left without a word, your fellow magical girls scramble to follow you. Josie waves her hand in front of your face, it dissuade you from heading to your destination. The Soviets investigate other hallways. This portion of the Mausoleum seems unexplored and untouched by anyone, even the Hexenkraft. You wonder how long it’s been since this place has seen living beings.

“Hey, boss! You feelin’ alright? You’re not possessed by some spooky ghost, are you?” You aren’t too sure about that yourself. You guess you’ll find out when you get to the room. The sight that greets you is one you’re familiar with. A sarcophagus in the center of the room, one that’s extremely ornate, gilded and studded with gems of all kinds that sparkle even in the dim light of the carvings on the wall of the room. There’s one key difference here. This coffin’s open, and shards of it’s cover lie on the ground. The smell of gunpowder is heavy in the air, Hexenkraft probably blew it open the brutes.

It’s contents lie sprawled on the floor, the preserved corpse of a girl has been riddled with holes, as if someone unloaded onto her with a mounted machine gun. A gem covered necklace has been torn away from her in the gunfire, it lies several meters away from her. Cracks spiderweb through it. You see the girl again, lying next to the necklace. She turns her glassy, useless eyes towards you and reaches out towards you. Her ethereal hands try to grasp her necklace, only to phase through it. She doesn’t seem to mind, and goes through the motion of clasping it around her neck, before reaching out towards you again. She manages to utter a single word at you.

“Help”

It’s pretty easy to put two and two together here.

[x] Put it on
[x] Have someone else put it on, (who)
[x] Destroy the necklace
[x] Bring the necklace back to base with you
[x] Write in

>>429701
>[x] Put it on on the girl with the hoels in her?
if that dosnt work put it on yourslf

>>429701
>[x] Destroy the necklace

>>429701
>[x] Put it on
This is a terrible idea but I'm confident that everyone is standing by to punch us in the face should it all go horribly wrong.

>>429840
Thanks for running QM

File: Victory uniform.png (2.12 MB, 724x1023)

2.12 MB PNG

You bring the necklace to the broken body of the girl. The spirit of the girl disappears as you approach the necklace. A warmth emanates from the central ruby as your hold it in your hand. The others haven’t seemed to notice the girl, or the fact that you’ve taken the necklace, and they scan the area for either useful items, or for Hexenkraft soldiers. And they seem to find neither. You hook the necklace around the corpse of the girl, and her body twitches, as if it’s trying it’s damndest to come back to life. This results in a shriek of unadulterated fear from Erika, and you have to hold her back to keep her from filling the corpse with even more holes. The corpse slows it’s twitching, eventually going back to it’s previous motionless state. Diane glances over at you, and then down at the corpse. The ghostly visage of the girl writhes and violently seizes, Diane doesn’t seem to notice this. She vanishes once more. Or maybe she doesn’t see it.

“These people could really bring people back from the dead?” You shrug, some would say that being a zombie is worse than death. And you aren’t sure what to think about the whole idea of spiritstones.

“They tried to, at least. Who knows if they succeeded.” Diane seems to be lost in thought, fascinated by the idea of resurrection and immortality. You glance down at the necklace, and a frankly stupid idea crosses your mind. You wrap the possessed necklace around your neck. The blood red gem at its center blinds you with how brightly it glows.

Nothing happens

Your vision fades, going to black. You squeeze your eyes shut, it feels like they’re going to pop. You open them again, and you can hear Diane gasp in shock. You don’t want know what you look like right now. You can see everything. Diane’s birth, her first successful fencing tournament, her parents getting gunned down by Waffen-SS troopers. You see her as she is, and then finally you see her lying motionless on the ground, bleeding profusely from a pair of puncture wounds in her neck. Things speed forward, and you slam your eyes shut once more, trying to bring yourself back into reality. You collapse, gasping and chest heaving, struggling to regain your breath. Diane screams as she tries to tend to you. Your vision blackens once more, and you feel yourself slipping into unconsciousness.

I think that's a good place to stop for tnight, I'll be back around 7 PM EST on Monday. Twitter is https://twitter.com/kojimaQM like always

Please feel free to voice any comments, questions, concerns or feedback you have for me

>>429855
Maybe you can get Cosmic or Trick to give your quest a look-see? I feel they can provide better feedback than any four of us could

>>429855
mybe putting on really old things becouse a ghost wanted you too isnt a god ieda ahha
thanks man and yer im not too good with feedback just im liking it so fare

are we still a catgirl?

>>437196
No. That was way back in thread 1.