>>4270958
>The Eccentric, with passable knowledge in magic and a great deal more in the spear, an unusual one

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>>4270958
>The Farmer, with skills in tending to the featureless corn of yesteryear and the rectangular cattle of before

>>4270958
>The Architect, geometric measurers of the world through magic, needing naught but their mind to wheedle the secrets of the world from its ancient carcass
Seems very high concept, but interesting. So people were all One and all Same, but then the world got Tower of Babbled to what it is now. We're one of the few "pure" beings left, wearing a skin bag. Right?

>>4270958
>The Farmer, with skills in tending to the featureless corn of yesteryear and the rectangular cattle of before

Peasant run less go

Voting open until tomorrow at 3 PM Pacific Time.

See you then.

>>4270958
>The Farmer, with skills in tending to the featureless corn of yesteryear and the rectangular cattle of before

>>4270958
>>The Farmer, with skills in tending to the featureless corn of yesteryear and the rectangular cattle of before

>>4270958
>The Adjudicator, mace in hand and shard of knowledge in the other, prone to venturing and teaching the people of this world why they were mistakes of nature

>>4270958
>farmer

>>4271363
>>4271245
>>4271216
>>4271127
>>4271028
The Farmer, with skills in peasantry and scythe

>>4272149
Your Archetype is the Farmer, with skills in scythe and gardening, tending to the ancient stark white corn of yesteryear and the rectangular cattle of ages before then. You and Ekkum alone knew the secrets of bread and beer, but it was he who taught those secrets to these new peoples, forever degenerated from their former selves. They were granted death, unlike your kind who did not know of it. Wars were inconvenient, painful and exceedingly brutal, leading to dismemberment, but that was that. You could always reattach an arm or a head. But it was more complicated for these people, as they now had entrails and could no longer reattach limbs or their heads like their ancestors did.

You remember the reason why you took up the plow and the scythe, for you found hunger to be inconvenient and took action to make it not so. You grew the featureless grain of then, and now you tend to your field of maize and beans, for the featureless grain will not grow outside of the remnants of the Old World, located in the Spiraled Citadel. The first civilization, not that you knew it as that, as it was the only civilization that existed, or the only one that mattered at the time.

As it stood, you lived in a small hamlet in the region of...


>The Barmy Shore, with great crabs and flocks of seagulls which terrorized what crops could grow there. You are the only one who can wheedle maize and beans from that arid earth

>The Frigid Lands of Gel, filled with wolves and forests that swallow entire villages whole, filled to the brim with terrors. You are among the few who can nurture life in this unforgiving land

>The Eternal Plains, the first land that you had seen since your exit from the Spiraled City and the only land that you decided to reside in, fertile in all aspects, which makes you one farmer among many

>The Great Sunward Sea, a vast desert full of sandstorms and Evorkions and other unpleasant creatures. You are the only one who can even grow in this arid wasteland

>>4272175
>The Frigid Lands of Gel, filled with wolves and forests that swallow entire villages whole, filled to the brim with terrors. You are among the few who can nurture life in this unforgiving land
Aye whelps no use in living life without a little danger. Great to have you back I'm already really feeling this quest. This feels like the beginning of something that will rival SQR once it starts building momentum.

>>4272175
>The Frigid Lands of Gel, filled with wolves and forests that swallow entire villages whole, filled to the brim with terrors. You are among the few who can nurture life in this unforgiving land

>>4272175
>Barmy Shore
Love me some beaches.

>>4272175
>The Great Sunward Sea, a vast desert full of sandstorms and Evorkions and other unpleasant creatures. You are the only one who can even grow in this arid wasteland
I would imagine the desolation would be comfortingly reminiscent of the pre-anchored world

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>>4272175
>The Frigid Lands of Gel, filled with wolves and forests that swallow entire villages whole, filled to the brim with terrors. You are among the few who can nurture life in this unforgiving land

Word of your impending return was followed by great things Stando. The day after you announced you were coming back was spoiler day, here's a link to the chapter https://ww5.readmha.com/chapter/boku-no-hero-academia-chapter-272/ the only things I can say are the boogaloo begins now and this entire chapter seems to be one big joke about what happens when Stando comes back. It's like Hori is mimicking our autism by centering that chapter around ascended beings, slipping the shackles of mortality and bridal carrying Miruko. The day after that the best Jojo fan animation I have ever seen did a better job with Made in Heaven than David productions probably ever will. Look at this https://youtu.be/SAsM_nd1ULQ 15 seconds of pure kino. The subject matter and the timing of it are certainly interesting, two different franchises two different Apocalypses. Sorry to bring up the other quest just wanted the weird coincidences. Onto the quest at hand. Good stuff,this looks very promising.

>>4272175
>The Frigid Lands of Gel, filled with wolves and forests that swallow entire villages whole, filled to the brim with terrors. You are among the few who can nurture life in this unforgiving land

>>4272175
>>The Barmy Shore, with great crabs and flocks of seagulls which terrorized what crops could grow there. You are the only one who can wheedle maize and beans from that arid earth

STAAAAAANDOOOOOOO

Vote open until tomorrow at 12 PM Pacific Time.

Sorry if it's a long wait, or if i'm not updating as much as I usually do.

I want to start off a bit slow before going full 3 updates a day.

>>4272175
>The Eternal Plains, the first land that you had seen since your exit from the Spiraled City and the only land that you decided to reside in, fertile in all aspects, which makes you one farmer among many
I want to see the contrast between these modern farming and our elder ways, having more farmers around should lead to a learning process for them and us both.

>>4272750
>>4272587
>>4272341
The Frigid Lands of Gel

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>>4273834
You traveled far from the Great Plains and through many lands until you had decided to settle in the Frigid Lands, also known as Gel which is pronounced in a motley of ways depending on where a person is from. But that was not it. There was a reason why you had settled in those lands, as they were as far away from the Spiraled Citadel as one could get without leaving the continent. Before the seas swallowed up the White Plains, terrible in all of its green and blue, which was precisely why you had avoided the Barmy Coast, the place a reminder of the Anchoring as the event came to be called, the name no doubt spread by one of your former companions.

The Frigid Lands are a harsh and brutally unforgiving land, with winters that are so cold that they freeze the very forests and animals, who only survive through being buried in their parents and grandparents, gnawing on the meat ice that traps them in and subsisting through those means. The people here are hard like the land, mining the mountains of meat that form after every winter, only to stock up and endure the next winter in their mountain citadels before repeating the process again. The land is mostly ice and snow that has been compacted into ice, which would usually make farming in this land impossible.

It is not impossible for you, however, as you were one of the two who knew the secrets of Bread and Beer, and as such, you are privy to many tidbits of knowledge that the farmers have long lost since Ekkum had left the continent in search of the Otherlands.


What secret did you use to nurture life in this frozen landscape?

>The Secret of Cattle, converting the wild many furred creatures into the polygonal creatures that grazed off of white and uniform, immune to the cold and with meat that was now indistinguishable from others

>The Secret of Plowing, where the furrows you dug warmed the seeds and leeched the life from animals and other plants, providing them a proper and fertile bed to grow from

>The Secret of Geometries, sowing the featureless corn and grain in hard compact square plots of snow and ice, a terrible substitute for the featureless and uniform plain they best grew from but a substitute nonetheless

>(Write-In)

Note for the write in: So long as it's vaguely related to hearth and field, it will be fine

>>4273854
>The secret of Chickens,converting the many flying creatures into flocks of poultry for plentiful eggs and meat
The Jew fears the home chicken farmer. Let's use the most based and efficient livestock animal.

>>4273854
see >>4273953

>>4273854
>The Secret of Orchards, domesticating the chaos of trees in our surroundings to more familiar rectilinear forms and coax out geodesic fruits from them

>>4274049
+1

Voting open until tomorrow at 2 PM Pacific Time.

Final decision before the quest begins to pick up.

>>4273854
>The Secret of Plowing, where the furrows you dug warmed the seeds and leeched the life from animals and other plants, providing them a proper and fertile bed to grow from

>>4273854

> The Secret of Cumming in Her Mouth, glazing her innards white and sowing your seed deep down her greedy
throat, impossibly impregnating her somehow

>>4274049
Support

>>4273854
>>4273953
How else can we maximize protein intake? Fuck vegans

>>4274916
I know you are horny and expected lewd moths when stando came back but for the love of god save it for SQR.

>>4275178
The people here literally mine meat out of the mountains. It doesn't get much easier to obtain meat than that, outside of buying it anyway.

>>4274049
+1

>>4274049
>>4274192
>>4274943
>>4275278
The Secret of Trees

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>>4275611
You nurtured life through one of the many secrets that only you were beholden too, for Ekkum was far too busy teaching the world how to grow grain and brew beer to teach them any more secrets, and now he was gone from this land. With the Secret of Trees, you turned some of the surrounding woods behind your small abode into an orchard of the strange, geometric trees that often dotted the lands before the Anchoring. They were tall, square in every way, with great cubes instead of leaves, mimicking a pyramid in the way it was constructed. White and without texture, they bore fruit rather slowly, but that was to be expected.

The sowing ground, compacted into squares plots of uniform white served as a substitute for the white plains where they once thrived in, a poor substitute for one, but a substitute nonetheless. These trees bore the geodesic fruit without a name, for all things did not require names in the old days, for they were all the same no matter where they grew or what they were for that matter. These fruits were hard, but tasted sweet like Ambrosia, which was produced from these fruits through compressing a large pile into a flat disc, which was then cut like dough and shredded into the fine flakes of the white substance that all things craved.

You yourself lived in a small hamlet by the forest, a short ways away from Winterhome, notable for being one of the few citadels in this land that was not situated in a mountain. From what you'd heard from the adventurers who often stopped by the local inn before they entered the forest, Winterhome was a tightly packed village that was all centered around a great stone keep, with brass pipes that carried hot air throughout the entire city.

The Hamlet was small enough and desperate enough to not ask questions, which was why you had settled there in the first place. Dressed in your heavy furs that covered you down from head to toe, your work, mashing together the latest haul of geodesic fruit into Ambrosia was interrupted by a series of loud thumps that echoed throughout your shack.

It seems that you may have guests.

What will you do?

>Open the door to see what the racket is

>Ignore them and get back to making Ambrosia, from what you've heard, the market in Winterhome is currently blazing for the food item

>(Write-In)

>>4275676
>Open the door to see what the racket is
>Get something to arm yourself with incase its thieves or some wild animal

>>4275676
>Find a weapon
>Creak the door open slightly to see what the racket is but keep the door chains in place

>>4275245
Wait, this is an established thing? I thought this was something Stando came up with. Do you by chance know where I could read it?

>>4275766
I don't know if it is an established setting or not, I was just going off of the section that says that animals and people get frozen and people harvest it by "mining the mountains of meat that form after every winter".

>>4275734
>>4275766
Open the door and find a weapon

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>>4276030
You stopped the repetitive mashing of stone into the flesh of the geodesic fruits, setting the tool aside as you rose from your stool. You quickly moved over to a rack which held a multitude of tools, many made of iron with aged wooden handles but without rust on the metal parts. Your hand hovered over most of them, before you eventually settled on a hoe that's head was wrapped in cloth. This was your hoe, the handle replaced many times, but the head remained the same. It was made of the very same geometric materials that your people had carved from the ground beneath to serve as tools, or as the people now know them, Geosteel. A mythical metal that never rusts, nor deforms, nor can break, capable of holding edges sharp enough to part dragonhide like air, it was a highly prized material, as only a certain number of them existed in this world.

It would be a good deterrent, as even with the cloth wrapping, the hoe was sharp enough to easily cleave asunder the frozen wolves that occasionally harried the edges of your orchard. You walked towards the thick wooden door, the frame edged in adobe and hay to better insulate in spite of your lack of need for said insulation. You quickly opened the door, one hand on the handle of your hoe, raised and ready to sunder only for you to lower it as the figure in the snow became clear, his thick furs brown in the light of your cabin. Already, you can see the blue of ice beginning to edge into your cabin. You'd best get this over with quickly.

"Greetings Fruitsman." Jeremiah of Winterhome begins, one of the many callers of Winterhome whose presence only meant one thing.

"Winter is coming." You replied, your voice colder and duller than the winter winds, a statement of fact.

"Aye.. The whole Hamlet's been invited to Winterhome again for this winter." He replied, face still bundled in furs, more than your own, with goggles of pale glass that gleamed in the frost kissed moonlight.

"When?" You asked, ready to close the door.

"In a fortnight." You decided that was enough, and so you began to close the door.

"WAIT!"

What do you do?

>Continue closing the door, you have Ambrosia to make

>Hear him out

(No Write-Ins)

>>4276074
>Hear him out
We might as well before we make our judgment.

>>4276074
>Hear him out

Retiring for the night. Will return tomorrow to count the vote at 2 PM Pacific Time.

>>4275937
No, this isn't an already established setting. But here's a fun fact about the region you've decided to settle in:

Some winters are so cold that people often look like they're vomiting up white sludge, when in reality it's their breath freezing immediately in front of them.

>>4276074
>Hear him out

>>4277271
>>4276385
>>4276097
Hear him out

>>4277569
You stopped, the door halfway shut before you began to open it just the slightest bit further to let you hear his words.

"We know that you have somehow managed to survive the past several winters by your lonesome, but heed my words." Jeremiah began, catching his breath which had already begun to freeze over his fur wrappings.

"The Scholars say that this winter will be one of the worst of the century. Colder than any other winter. All that we ask is that you come this time. There's no shame in waiting out the winter in one of the citadels." He said, pausing before he finished.

"That is all. Farewell, may our paths cross again in Winterhome." He seemed to have stilled himself, his countenance and stature stone-like as he disappeared into the harsh snowstorm that had come just a couple of hours earlier. Of course Winterhome would know that you'd spent the past several winters in your home. They'd thought that you had insulated your home with magically treated hay, although in reality, your home would always freeze over, your tools hard enough to shatter from use and your clothes frozen so completely that they had all the properties of ice save for them being made of water.

You were unaffected by the storms, for all those who had lived before the concepts of heat and cold were not beholden to such laws of the world. But still, it would be good for you to keep up the appearance of you being human. You had also manufactured a satisfactory amount of Ambrosia to bring to sell at the market there, what you had planned to do before winter had settled in.

You have at best a week before winter, and at least three days to get situated into Winterhome, for it is a week and a half's journey to the place. These matters were for you to decide, and so you sat down onto your hard, almost frozen stool in your home, letting the frost creep in as you pondered over your choices.

In the end, you decided that you would...

>Depart tomorrow for Winterhome

>Depart in two days for Winterhome, for you will need to prepare

>Stay in your House, for you will never be affected by the cold

>(Write-In)

>>4277605
>Depart in two days for Winterhome, for you will need to prepare

>>4277605
>Depart in two days for Winterhome, for you will need to prepare
Time to stock up on product for trade

>>4277668
>>4277615
Depart in two days for Winterhome

>>4277980
In the end, you decided to depart for Winterhome in two days. You would prepare for the journey in those two days before you'd set out on the long trek to Winterhome which was considered to be the closest Citadel to the hamlet that you resided. You forgot the name of this hamlet, but it was relatively close to Winterhome in comparison to all the other hamlets which were situated around the mouths of those great Mountain Citadels.

On the first day, you finished harvesting the entire crop of the Geodesic fruits that had grown and mashed and shredded all of it into Ambrosia which you packed into tremendous wicker baskets, that were so large that you could fit your entire body inside and still have room for more. You could not carry the things by yourselves, and so on the second day, you brought over your beast of burden to help carry these items to Winterhome.

Your beast of burden was a special thing indeed, for it was...

>A Wemflow, a great oxen-like thing that was more fur than flesh, relatively slow but able to bear great burdens without much trouble

>A geometric beast, a flat and polygonal creature with four legs and no features, for it was as white as the snow around and could carry medium weights without stopping to eat

>An argopede, originally from the frost deserts of Gel, with their many legs and long, segmented bodies, capable of carrying truly herculean amounts of items, but incredibly slow as a result of their being

>(Write-In)

Each beast of burden will carry its own set of challenges on the path to Winterhome

>>4278030
>A geometric beast, a flat and polygonal creature with four legs and no features, for it was as white as the snow around and could carry medium weights without stopping to eat
Having a mount that doesn't need to rest would be great if something ever chased us down. Also autsim time.

Right now we have a few different lore threads that we have dangling right now. Firstly our MC isn't human rather some kind of thing that is pretending to be human. Ambrosia is pretty vague at this point, but I'm betting it is this setting's alchemy somewhat, centered more on the fermentation and basic processing of simple ingredients and plants than the more chemistry based approach that is shown in most fantasy.

It's possible that ambrosia production is for the most part the distilling and purification of a single ingredient to focus one of it's properties. For example if you fermented a shit ton of grasshoppers you could jump real high or you would turn into some sort of fucked up bug man. It is for this reason that I think that unlike fantasy settings the simplest ingredient is often the best since there are few unintended side effects. A good example would be a starfish or an urchin, granting the user an armored layer of poisonous spines or a slow gradual super regeneration that could theoretically allow you to make clones of yourself. Now that I think about it I made a mistake not going for the ocean biome Starfish juice and Urchin juice are OP. While the geometric beast is my personal choice if we distill a shit ton of our Wemflow's hair we could get cold immunity. We could get a hot drink equivalent if there was a monster with and extreme metabolism in the meat caves but that would mean we would have to eat a lot more, unless we distilled a bunch of potatoes or animal fat to keep our calories up.

>>4278030
>A geometric beast, a flat and polygonal creature with four legs and no features, for it was as white as the snow around and could carry medium weights without stopping to eat

>>4278030
>A Wemflow, a great oxen-like thing that was more fur than flesh, relatively slow but able to bear great burdens without much trouble

>>4278104
That makes sense. But hear me out, if you only include part of the animal than only the properties of that particular part are imparted on the drink, an example would be using the eyballs of predatory birds to get good eyesight. You could also mix in another simpler ambrosia to counteract part of the effect of a more complex ingredient. By mixing fat ambrosia into the super metabolism ambrosia you give it enough calories to negate loss while the super metabolism is in effect. There are so many possibilities.
Rocks + Centipede Chiton plates= rock armor
Lamp oil + butter = poison that makes you prone to combustion
Horse Dicks + Cat Dicks + Walrus penis bones = The great barbed spear of apocalyptic rectal obliteration
Milk + Udders = Female Breast Enhancement
But most importantly
Cum = Super Cum

By distilling our semen we will make ambrosia that will increase our load size. The larger our loads the more cum ambrosia we can make the more cum ambrosia we make the larger our loads. Eventually this will reach an event horizon. When we have enhanced our cum to ungodly levels we can shower the northlands with our warm sticky rain melting the ice under the sheer bioheat of our loads. The bacteria decomposing our spunk will give off massive amounts of heat, turning this from an arctic wasteland to a hot, humid cum swamp.

>>4278138
>>4278104
A geometric beast

>>4278170
Hello autism my old friend...

>>4278375
Your beast of burden was a geometric beast, one of the many that had once grazed on the square stalks of textureless plant that grew from the ground in the days before old. It was a massive creature, easily the size of a wagon in width, length, and height, its back massive enough to even carry you throughout this journey. You brought it out from its place in a small barn by the orchard, where you kept it by itself, away from the prying eyes of man. Creatures such as these no longer existed, at least until you had bought an old oxen from traveler and then worked your alchemy on it. The Secrets of Farming stemmed from the ancient practice of alchemy which you were first the master of. Unlike you, Ekkum had started through learning the Secrets of Civilization and thus he taught Man to sow and brew beer, such that he was.

But you had studied the Secrets of The World, better known as Alchemy in these days, which was a far better name for it than the one it had previously, for it shortened its name by tenfold. Nevertheless, you put a great leather harness onto your beast of burden and began to attach the baskets of Ambrosia to the sides, along with saddling it with your ancient wooden saddle.

Before you left, you had brought your traveling gear with you. What did it consist of?

>Your hoe, your clothes and nothing else, for every other thing is unnecessary

>Your hoe, your clothing and another cloak on top of it, along with your goggles to hide your lack of eyes and a long bill hook for use on the roads

>Your hoe, your clothing, and your alchemical supplies, for you had no doubts that this great winter would bring with it even greater secrets to unravel

>(Write-In)

Last post of the day.

Also on a side note, as amusing as your horny posting is, please keep it restrained.

We are after all on a blue board.


I really don't want to get fucked in the ass by the mods

>>4278412
>Your hoe, your clothing and another cloak on top of it, along with your goggles to hide your lack of eyes and a long bill hook for use on the roads

>>4278412
>Your hoe, your clothing and another cloak on top of it, along with your goggles to hide your lack of eyes and a long bill hook for use on the roads

>>4278412
>Your hoe, your clothing, and your alchemical supplies, for you had no doubts that this great winter would bring with it even greater secrets to unravel

>>4278412
>Your hoe, your clothing and another cloak on top of it, along with your goggles to hide your lack of eyes and a long bill hook for use on the roads

>>4278414
I've seen some QMs get away with actual interactive sex in thier quests. In addition QMs are never held responsible for the posts of thier players. If a player posts something worthy of a ban only the offending player will be affected, not the QM. I've seen crazier stuff posted on other blue boards, you are more likely to get banned for posting Soijacks and Twitter Screencaps than you are from describing the creation of cum swamps. That brought back memories of an old /tg/ meme about a piss forest.

>>4278511
>>4278520
>>4279080
Heavily bundled up

>>4279733
You decided to travel in the fashion that you had traveled in for as long as you had dwelt in these lands. You had your clothing, brought your hoe, its head bound in cloth and you had donned your thick fur cloak to keep up the appearance of being affected by the cold. Then you donned your goggles, thick and made from a singular piece of glass in the style of the Scholars of the Barmy Shore, who were masters in all of the practices of Alchemy. The goggles were dark enough to also conceal your eyes, or your lack of eyes and the ridge that would indicate you having eyes in general. You had placed your hoe on the side of the saddle, easily accessible and strapped it in tightly, before you returned to your home and took a long billhook with you, for it would be well suited for defense on the road.

Eventually your preparations had finished, and so you closed the door to your cabin, the wood and hay seeming to freeze over with the winter frosts as you mounted your geometric beast and spurred it onwards. Off in the distance, partially obscured by the snow but visible to your eyes was a train of hard cattle, with great coats of fur that could completely conceal their legs, making them resemble more caterpillars of fur than anything on four legs. That must have been the train towards Winterhome, the one that contained the villagers from the hamlet that you had settled in.

You would have to make a choice in your ways to get to Winterhome. You would either join the train, or would have to make your own way to the citadel, but you were well versed in these lands, knowing of paths through the forest and snow that could take you to nearly any citadel if you so wished to. But your hamlet was sworn to Winterhome, and appearing in any other citadel may arise suspicions on your person.

What do you do?

>Join the train to Winterhome

>Make your own way down the Lord's Road to Winterhome

>Take a path through the forests and through the snow fields to Winterhome

>(Write-In)

>>4279779
>Join the train to Winterhome

>>4279779
>Make your own way down the Lord's Road to Winterhome
The middle ground seems like the best one, we can't be drawing too much attention now.

Extending the vote for another hour.

>>4279080
I see.

>>4279779
>Join the train to Winterhome
We are doing this for appearances sake after all.

>>4279781
>>4280176
Join the train to winterhome

>>4280262
With but a thought, the geometric beast you were upon shifted from its current course, beginning to merge with the course of the train itself. As you grow closer to the train, a sudden revelation hits you. This train contained every person from the Hamlet which you had resided in, which made your choice all the better. They would have suspected something odd if a villager were to stay behind when their entire village moves on to find shelter in the Citadel. Thus having saved yourself from suspicion, you began to think about the upcoming winter and how it would treat your crops before a loud voice interrupted your thoughts.

Your geometric beast stopped as soon as it heard the voice, the creature well trained in every way and lacking a will to contest anything.

"Hail traveler! From what village do you hail from?" The voice called out, the voice of a man, deep and as rough as the lands it hailed from.

"I hail from the village of Goebrin." You called back in response, only to be met with silence. The man called back again.

"Goebrin? Are you that Fruitsman who lives by the Orchard?" He asked, voice returned to the same volume as it had before.

How do you respond?

>Aye

>Nay, I am the keeper of the Orchard

>Nay, for I am a Farmer, not a Fruitsman

>(Write-In)

>>4280299
>Aye

>>4280299
>Nay, I am the keeper of the Orchard

>>4280299
>Aye
>If I may ask what's your intention with that question? Curiosity? Business perhaps?

Vote will be open until tomorrow at 1 PM Pacific Time.

>>4280299
>Aye

Stando what did you run last? I know you from somewhere, just not sure what quest

>>4280829
You seriously forgot that Stand Quest Requiem even existed? I've been hypothesizing on the nature and possible overarching goals of the vampire/pillar man clan Toga was sired from for a month like a complete autist and you just forgot it existed entirely?

>>4280829
>>4280305
Aye

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>>4281495
"Aye. That I am." The man stops for but a second, before he nods in assent. He turned back towards the group, mounted on his Wemflow which was larger than any other that you had seen. That man must have been the Chieftain of the Hamlet, for he was the one person in the entirety of Goebrin and its surrounding wood to have a Wemflow of prodigious size.

With his permission, you joined the train towards Winterhome, encountering few troubles during the long ride to the Citadel. As the days ticked on by, you noticed that everything was beginning to get colder. The frost storms no longer spewed snow, for the snow had frozen into hail that would have easily killed many of the people on this train had they not been dressed for the occasion. Halfway to the Citadel, you saw a group of statues, life-like animals of differing species all frozen in the midst of a battle. You thought that those statues made suitable gravestones for those creatures that had been caught in this cold.
A day away from Winterhome, your train was forced to take shelter in a cavern, for the cold had so mercilessly blasted the the area that the hard snow had sharped into blades of ice that flayed every living thing in its vicinity. A few souls were lost to it, not that you cared much, for they were strangers to you, but you could see how the spirits of the train noticeably dipped after that incident.

The next day, your train passed by the cliff path down to the Lord's Road again, and saw the sprawling Citadel of Winterhome, a great city of packed homes all situated around the center, of which contained a great keep of stone. By sundown, your train had arrived at Winterhome. Already, you saw the villagers leading their cattle and oxen and wemflows into the Citadel, escorted by the guards armored in plate so thick that you'd doubt that any person could have moved in it. For a moment, you thought to join them, before your shoulder was tapped and then you were led out to one of the nearby Gatehouses by the Winter Gate.

You were greeted by the Chieftain inside who was speaking through an oddly shaped stone, his topmost layer removed, revealing the blue wemflow wool tunic he wore and his heavyset body, his hair crowned with hair blacker than charcoal. He turned to you, gesturing for you to take a seat, before he followed suit, collapsing into the chair behind the desk with a loud sigh of relief.

What do you do?|

>Ask him why he had brought you there

>Discretely leave from the place

>Remain silent until he speaks

>(Write-In)

>>4281524
>Ask him why he had brought you there

>>4281524
>Ask him why he had brought you there

>>4281647
>>4281732
Ask him why he had brought you there

>>4282103

"Why have you brought me here?" You said it like one would a statement, the Chieftain giving a low whistle before he responded to you.

"Incredible. You really are as straight forward as my Ma said." No words could come to your befuddled mind, for you were certain that this man was elected Chieftain of the village approximately a decade ago. Then you thought back and focused on the streams of ancient memory, going past blurry statues of the past before you had settled on a sight that looked similar to the Chieftain. A broad shouldered woman, with hair blacker than charcoal and even heavier than her son. She was the Chieftain of the hamlet some time ago, longer than a decade, and her son was the man who as elected after her death at the ripe old age of 50.

The man seemed hesitant to continue, as if you were an Elder on the council, but you waved for him to continue. With another sigh of relief, the man decided to continue, much to your expectations.

"Getting back on topic, the reason why I've called you in is... Well.. From what my Ma could remember, and her ma before, and her ma even then, you've never left the village to join our trains to Winterhome. Unlike our village, the Citadels need some uh.. Paperwork. They want to know every person who lives within their walls for the Winter, and so as your Chieftain, I just need you to fill out these papers." He quickly opened the desk with practiced ease, eternally familiar with the desk as he removed two thin sheets of parchment that seemed to be transparent under the Crystal light. He set it down in front of you, along with an ink well and a quill for that matter.

What do you do?

>Try to come up with a false identity for your stay in Winterhome

>Reflect on your life and come to realize that you really haven't been paying attention to the world outside of your Orchard

>Say your goodbyes to the Chieftain and leave from Winterhome

>Write down your name and some information for your stay in Winterhome

The vote will remain open until tomorrow at 1 PM.

>>4282119
>Reflect on your life and come to realize that you really haven't been paying attention to the world outside of your Orchard

>>4282119
>Reflect on your life and come to realize that you really haven't been paying attention to the world outside of your Orchard

Now here's the spoilers for the newest chapter of MHA so everyone can be up to date on lore for SQR's return The boogaloo has begun. Toga has gone completely postal and has slit the throats of several pro heroes. Deku and the students near the hospital are desperately trying to evacuate the remaining civilians. Deku is using Nana's quirk directly now, he seems like he's in full madman right now, he's pulling multiple buses with black whip. Shiggy has masterful control over his decay now, the floor around his position is untouched, even his phone was still charging. Giga has been given the kill everything order, he has awakened and I doubt Mt. Lady's virginity will survive the rampage. Endeavor flies to confront Shiggy, I am almost certain he will die fighting. Also, Ice is now a confirmed to be able to stop decay, yet another piece of autism from SQR's threads made canon. While Hori can't speak English, he is highly fluent in written English thanks to his love of American comics. There's a chance he might be lurking /qst/.

>>4282360
>>4282617
Reflect on your Life

>>4283032
Had you truly resided in that Hamlet for that long? Whenever you think of the Hamlet, you think of a mottled array of adobe and wood homes, all centered around a great bonfire that was often kept lit through magic, but now that you thought about it, you realized that the Hamlet had changed with every visit. On your second visit, the Hamlet was larger, but not so large as to make the trek between the Orchard and the rest of the Hamlet. Then on the third, everyone who you knew to be young were old and withered, on the Council of Elders. Some died when they saw you enter the Village Square, no doubt from shock. Then on the next proceeding visits, the Hamlet began to change. The homes were made of smooth stone, tightly packed together and double layered to keep in the heat. The Chieftain at the time was from another family, but it was still the days from when tightly interwoven furs were commonly worn.

Raising your head upwards, you looked at the Chieftain and his gear, scrutinizing it, dispelling the illusion that had been cast upon your eyes from your memories. Gone was the multilayered fur coat, replaced by a singular puffy coat, silvery and with hood that was lined in fur. His tunic was in reality what some people called a shirt, more modern than the old tunics of times past.

As a result of this introspection, you have discovered that your vision may be clouded by your own bias.

Gained: Sight of the Past-Present. Some of the places that you had visited long in the past may in reality be much more than they appear.

Gained: Introspective Mind. Some of your decisions may be clouded by haste and doubt, and so with a bit of careful thinking, you can discover which actions are the most unwise.

After the wave of revelation finally washes over you, having long left the shores of your mind, you turned to the Chieftain who looked at best befuddled and at worst, absolutely confused of the current goings on.

You had only one action to take...

>You asked him just how long have the Village known you for

>You asked him if they knew what you were (Unwise Decision)

>Look harder at the surroundings

>(Write-In)

>>4283059
>You asked him just how long have the Village known you for

>>4283059
>You asked him just how long have the Village known you for

>>4283059
>You asked him just how long have the Village known you for

>>4283063
>>4283135
>>4283150
You asked him just how long the Village has known you for

>>4283150
>>4283063
>>4283135

"Just how long has Geobrin known me for?" You cut through the silence, to which the Chieftain only nods once, before he further slinks into his chair, one hand rubbing his belly as he thought long and hard. For a while, the two of you were sat in that office, the walls of cobblestone slowly morphing into walls of chiseled stone brick. Then the Chieftain finally speaks.

"Don't know exactly, my Ma knew who you were, her Ma before her did, and so did the Ma before that Ma. Even the Elders know of you since the time they were children and the Council that was around their time knowing of you as children. But what's important is that you've always been a friend to Geobrin. In times of famine, when the Miners couldn't get enough meat or were dead from the action of doing so, you always came to the village with your great basket full of fruit that just satiated everyone. You even let the kids play in your Orchard and keep away the creatures that live in the Forest, and that means something. Wouldn't know what business a Faceless has in our small Hamlet, but we owe it to you." The Chieftain knew what you were, in fact, the entire village did. Yet, they did not inform Winterhome in all those years out of respect for your wish to remain quiet.

"I suspect that you've followed our train because of the news of this upcoming Winter and you didn't want to stand out." To this you nodded, the Chieftain giving a grunt, before he began to write on the parchment with your quill. Noticeably, a ring that you had not noticed before, dull and grey began to shine on his ring finger. As the glow subsided, he got up and said his piece as he put on his coat, leaving the office.

"Welcome to Winterhome Fruitsman. You've already managed to stay out of sight for this long, but Winterhome and the rest of the Citadels are not like our village. Farewell."

You were left in the Office until you were led out by an official in a coat of metal plates with a grid on it, fastened with a black cloth made of many thread that you did not know of.

With your goal in sight, you...

>Hid your Beast of Burden with a cloth you had kept specifically for this purpose and entered the city

>You left from the City and decided to leave the entire region

>You decided to take your chances with this Winter, even if it didn't affect you

>(Write-In)

>>4283472
>Hid your Beast of Burden with a cloth you had kept specifically for this purpose and entered the city

>>4283472
>Hid your Beast of Burden with a cloth you had kept specifically for this purpose and entered the city

>>4283472
>Hid your Beast of Burden with a cloth you had kept specifically for this purpose and entered the city

Vote open until tomorrow at 2 PM Pacific

>>4283703
>>4283624
>>4283476
Hid the beast of burden

>>4285094
You quickly walked to your beast of burden, undoing a strap which held a large bundle of cloth. With a simple heave, the cloth unfurled into a massive tabard large enough to cover the creature, which you quickly set into place with practiced motion. You slid the leather straps through the buckles located on the saddle, keeping the thing in place. It was only after this action that you finally mounted your steed, not that it was a horse or anything resembling an equine, and rode into the Citadel of Winterhome. Already, you could see just how much the city had changed since you had gone through a bit of introspection. The walls were no purely stone, but metal in many places around the outside of the building.

The tightly packed homes were still of timber, but some had been rebuilt entirely from stone and the Castle, no, Tower at the center of the Town was even grander than it looked from afar. It was a truly gigantic pillar of stone and metal, reaching high into the sky, bits of metal on the outer parapets thumping downwards in motion as if they were moving to power some sort of great engine at the center of it. Occasionally, a plume of billowing fire erupted from the very top of the Tower, followed by a gout of black smoke, sending a wave of smells down from the Tower and into Winterhome itself. Or at least, that was what you assumed, for you had no sense of smell.

You eventually found yourself at the town square of Winterholm, marked by a large stone stele that decorated the middle of a ring of brightly burnished gemstones. The floor gleamed in the dull light of the Sun, reflecting off of the floor and illuminating the various signs that indicated the various sectors of Winterhome.


You decided to go to...

>The Market Square, to sell your Ambrosia

>The Smith's Quarters, to see if they sold any new tools for your Orchards

>The Citadel, to witness the goings on at the base of such a monstrous structure

>(Write-In)

>>4285197
>The Market Square, to sell your Ambrosia

>>4285197
>The Market Square, to sell your Ambrosia

>>4285199
>>4285520
The Market Square, to sell your Ambrosia

>>4285802
You had originally planned to go to Winterhome to sell your crop, but your obligation to keep up appearances had hastened you to your goal. Now that you were in Winterhome with less than half of the Ambrosia that you were planning to make, you had to make do. With a slight kick of your leg, the Geometric Beast sharply lurched to the side, splitting the sea of people around it as you entered the Market Square. It was a tightly packed and crowded place, all of the stalls fully enclosed within stone and wood, with hints of brass piping snaking across the bare stone walls like veins. Eventually, you found the manager of the entire Sector, a man dressed in full heavy plate, his bascinet helm half open as he regarded you.

"You here to sell?" He asked, as blunt as the thick iron club that hung from his belt.

"Aye, that I am." You replied, after which he quickly looked through his codex, flipping to a page and then giving a grunt as he marked down something with a steel nib. He then pointed out your stall in particular, and so you brought your beast there and began to set up to sell your substance. Ambrosia, the fine flakey crust of geometric perfection could have only been refined from the geodesic fruits of yore. There were records of people selling them, and people still do, just of a lesser quality than yours. For as defined as the world may have seemed to be, you distinctly remembered that there was a barrier between the surrounding plains of the Citadel of Spirals and the Great Plains beyond.

People could coax life from those colorless flats, but not as well as you could and were thus given an inferior fruit for an inferior product. But a failure sold well, if the demand for Ambrosia is as high as you've heard it was. Before long, you saw a group of potential customers, and so you hailed them and gestured for them to come over. Judging by the widening of their eyes upon a whiff of the substance, they were well familiar with it.

The group that came consisted of...

>An old Noble, likely from a house of great renown within Gel, for all those who were not did not exist, with his entourage of plated men at arms

>An adventurer from the looks of it, absolutely hulking in their thick armor of plates, trailed by a figure in a cloak and with a sage man by their side

>A group of people dressed in white featureless cloaks with masks of white wood that had been lacquered to the point of no texture, the same in all matters save for their height.

>(Write-In)

>>4285846
>A group of people dressed in white featureless cloaks with masks of white wood that had been lacquered to the point of no texture, the same in all matters save for their height.

>>4285846
>A group of people dressed in white featureless cloaks with masks of white wood that had been lacquered to the point of no texture, the same in all matters save for their height.
mystery box

>>4285846
>A group of people dressed in white featureless cloaks with masks of white wood that had been lacquered to the point of no texture, the same in all matters save for their height.

I will return tomorrow at 1 PM Pacific time to update.

Sorry for my lack of postings as of recently. I've been trying to find a convenient schedule between posts but its difficult to say the least.

>>4285846
>A group of people dressed in white featureless cloaks with masks of white wood that had been lacquered to the point of no texture, the same in all matters save for their height.


>>4286066
What are you talking about? This a way better pace than you usually have. I cum to the idea of SQR going this fast and starting this early in the day. As for the quest so far I would like to say that this is your best work. With some of your other experiments away from SQR it felt like you were somewhat directionless.

This quest is different. This seems like the sum product of everything you've learned with questing and you've leaned further onto your strengths as a world builder more than ever before and it works. You've finally mastered re-creating one of the biggest draws of SQR consistently, a very lived-in world where you can feel where the weight of it's long and storied history can be felt even without an exposition dump with each tidbit of lore feeling like an exhilarating discovery that can be discussed and analyzed at length. That sense of mystery and discovery is in part one of the big reasons SQR succeeded and I'm really happy that style of investigative worldbuilding it is present in a wholly original setting. Having the players slowly uncover the story of the world is a type of storytelling that is only really possible in video games, TTRPGs and questing, with quests being the most literary of these mediums I think that it arguably is the most well adapted for doing so.

The fact that there have been SQR-style lore posters for a setting that didn't exist until a week ago is telling of how greatly this succeeded. I have no doubt is the quest that will surpass SQR one day, there's a lot of meat in this world that I'm excited to dig into and I'm looking forward to seeing what you've learned here be used in your other quests.

>>4286240
>>4285864
>>4285861
>>4285858
The Order of the Arcane Geometries

>>4286578
Many groups came and went past your stall, likely unfamiliar with the scent of the substance, or not willing to risk purchasing it again. For whilst the Ambrosia that was not of your make was impure, even an imperfection would have seemed to be perfection for those who had devolved from what they had once been. One group caught your attention in particular, standing out even after an old noble trailed by his guard had passed by. It was a band of adventurers, led by a tower of plates and cloth that made giants look small, followed by a figure in a cloak and a sage man, dressed in local attire, likely a guide for their trip. But it was not their appearance that caught your attention, for it was their conversation that slipped into your ears past the bustling of the crowded Marketplace.

"Want to buy some Ambrosia?" The Towering figure whispered to their cloaked companion, which you heard for the winds told your kind everything. "I would rather not bring such a illustrious substance to the halls of those who would benefit most greatly from it." The cloaked figure replied, tapping his straight steel staff onto the ground once.

"C'mon. What are they gonna do with it? We're going to the High Falls of Gelimbrvntr, wha-" The Towering figure's voice, heavy and masked by metal was cut through by the sage local's hush, followed by his harsh rebuke that left the Tower silent. "Silence! Do not speak of that name with such brevity. Death would be a mercy for them, a mercy that they are forever barred from. Folin's advice is sage. We should not buy any of the substance, 'till we can be sure that they are truly gone."

You remembered the High Falls, the great Tomb of the Five Coined Kings of old Gel, when it was called by a different name. It was long before you had ever set foot in it, but long after the Anchoring, before the winters that had frozen Gel. The land was once ruled by five kings, all mortal and degenerate from what they had once been. One of your Kind, the Artificer had gone mad with hatred for what the world had become, and sought to forcefully return the world to what it had once been through a powerful artifact of his own making. He granted the Five Coins, textureless and white to the Kings of Jelijbrysntr and corrupted them into servants of his will, and so a great war was fought over these lands.

You knew this, for you were still traveling the world, bereft of a purpose in that time.

(1/2)

>>4286626
You were cut off from your reminiscing by the sight of a group that had long since carried the attention of others. There were eight of them, of the Order of Arcane Geometries, one of the last keepers of the Old Faith of before. They came to your stall, white, their lacquered masks revealing no intention. The tallest of their number pointed at your baskets of Ambrosia, and then dropped a great bag of coin, half the size of your torso onto the desk. Another of their Order, a short stout figure held up a great white bag of smooth, nigh ghostly silk, into which you poured all of your Ambrosia.

Now that you had sold your entire stock for quite a hefty sum indeed, the coins inside of the highest ones in this land, you were free to do what you wished before the winter.

What did you do?

>You spent the rest of the time before the Great Winterstorm in Winterhome's many inns, eager to see what this coin could get you

>You sought the group which had spoken of the High Falls, perhaps to join on their adventure

>You explored the entirety of Winterhome and its vastness, for your next visit

(2/2)

>>4286629
>You explored the entirety of Winterhome and its vastness, for your next visit

Expanding the vote moratorium until tomorrow at 1 PM.

>>4286629
>You explored the entirety of Winterhome and its vastness, for your next visit

>>4286804
>>4287564
Explored the entirety of Winterhome

>>4288321
Ignoring the portentous sign of something not quite right, given that the Adventurers mentioned something occurring at the High Falls, your nerves, as dull as they may be were uncharacteristically frazzled. You spent a good amount of time simply exploring Winterhome, which was truly a gigantic citadel of which there was none to compare in this age. The Spiraled Citadel was grander and more beautiful than Winterhome, aye, but that was because it was once the only city in all of the world before the Anchoring had sundered it with ocean and texture. The Marketplace was full of people hawking goods at travelers, most of them useful in cold environments such as these. There was one who sold Volcanic Spider silk mittens, guaranteed to keep one's hands warm in this nigh frozen land, and another who sold Edgas, a type of bread made in mimicry of Ambrosia. It was satiating and lasted for an eternity, or at least long enough that it did not matter.

The Smith's Quarters was a great indoor building that took up an entire sector of the City, as if they had simply roofed over it and built walls around the outside. It was full of those who forged metal and those who hawked said metal items, each of fine steel that would have cost much more had they been forged in any other location. But Gel was rich in iron and coal and charcoal, which made steel manufacture easy in these lands. Not that the sets of plate armor on display were cheap, for they still cost enough to buy one a large farm or a house over. You could see several travelers and adventurers standing by and shopping with their eyes, some too poor to afford good armor, others rich enough through their exploration to buy some.

The Citadel was a truly tremendous creation that made everything seem as small as the individual bricks that paved the roads, loud and gigantic, full of heat to where people close to it often chose to eschew their heavy outer wear for working in their under linens. It was more a gigantic engine than anything, and it was likely responsible for generating most of the heat that warmed the homes and inns of the city.

On your third day of exploration, the winds blew even colder, the streets were barren, with even the Market Square closed off. There were only two days before the Winter Storm, and that was enough time for you to...

>Book a room at a inn for the Winter Storm

>Find a place in the Citadel for the Winter Storm

>(Write-In)

>>4288372
>Book a room at a inn for the Winter Storm.
It's better not to draw too much attention to ourselves.

>>4288372
>Book a room at a inn for the Winter Storm

>>4288424
>>4288517
Book a room at a inn

>>4288974
You booked a room at local Inn by the Citadel two days before the Winter Storm, and it was already near full. You could only manage to get a room down in the basement, one of at least thirty and on the lowest floor where the wind could not blow, but that was fine. You did not even need to breath, let alone smell how it was down there. It was as drier than a crypt, the beds were stone and heated by pipes. On the day before the Storm like many others, you returned to your room and locked the tight metal door, sealing the heat in with you.

The first day of the Storm was cold, that you could tell from the temperature gauges they kept within each and every room in this Inn. The Inn's name was something along the lines of The Winter's Kiss, not that you bothered to remember such a frivolous detail. Then the indicator on the gauge went to the bottom and just would not get up. It stayed there for a day, before the needle went back to hot, breaking. You squinted your non-existent eyes and brow, before you turned towards the door to your room.

What did you do?

>You decided to see the Winter Storm yourself

>You decided to just stay put and wait out the storm

>You decided to gather your tools and get naked in the storm, just like how you used to do it, you were certain that you would be camouflaged by the whirling blizzard

>(Write-In)

>>4289081
>You decided to gather your tools and get naked in the storm, just like how you used to do it, you were certain that you would be camouflaged by the whirling blizzard
Fuck it, let's do something dangerous.

Last post of the day. I will return tomorrow at 1 PM Pacific time.

Reminder: You are not bound to some laws of the world as it is now.

>>4289081
>You decided to gather your tools and get naked in the storm, just like how you used to do it, you were certain that you would be camouflaged by the whirling blizzard
yolo

>>4289113
>>4289200
venture in to the storm naked

>>4290062
This storm, whatever it was, was not natural. That you could tell, for even in the coldest storms that you remembered, the air had not become so frigid as to cool the air deep beneath the earth. You rose from your bed, stripping all of your heavy furs from your body, revealing the purity of its form to the mirror that immediately cracked upon reflecting it. It had fractured in a way so that it specifically could not reflect your appearance clearly, but you had seen enough to know that you were the same. Unaffected by the Anchoring, then and now. Such was your nature, and as far as you knew, your nature was absolute. You removed your hoe from its place by your bed, the only tool of yours that you could not afford to lose.

With several twists of the door, you exited into the Inn, only to discover it to be completely empty. You soon knew the reason why, for upon entering the third floor, you were buffeted by a flood of white. The entire third floor had frozen over. You walked up the stairs, casually, for you were not affected by the cold nor by the aspects inherent to ice and frost. It felt nice, you decided, nice to be completely unencumbered like you had been before the Anchoring. The second floor was even more frozen, if that was possible, and the first floor was naught but a room of ice and snow. You entered the Inn, only to discover that it and all of the patrons within, who had been drinking were frozen to the bone.

It was a statue garden of frozen flesh, with some patrons cups falling over, the liquid within spilling only for it to all freeze over. Cups were angled, liquid seemingly pouring to the ground like a waterfall, but all was frozen, including the Owner, whose face was frozen in an indescribable manner.

Now that the entrance to the Inn was in front of you, what did you do?

>Continue on your path to the Storm

>Look through the upper floors to see if you could find any survivors

>Start breaking up the corpses to see if you could perhaps plant anything within them

>(Write-In)

>>4290132
>Continue on your path to the Storm
If there were plants growing out of the corpses in this inn people would start asking questions. It's best not to look for survivors, after all we're naked.

>>4290132
>Continue on your path to the Storm

>>4290132
>Continue on your path to the Storm

>>4290346
>>4291046
>>4291089
Continue on your path to the Storm

>>4291102
This truly wasn't a natural storm, for as cold as the storms became in Gel, none were so fierce as to penetrate the deep multi layered walls of the buildings located within the walls of Winterhome. For as long as you remember, it had stood throughout all of the winters that had come from what you had seen from the yearly migrations to Winterhome, but that was before this storm, before this winter. You left the bodies intact, for as much as you wished to test their worth as a medium for nurturing life, the presence of seedlings sprouting from these dead bodies would do much to garner suspicion. It did not matter where said suspicion was direct towards, only that it did, which would possible unravel the age old veil that you had left around yourself, not that it meant much inside of Gobrein, for they had discovered your secret already, but kept it secret for some reason.

The closer you got to the door, the colder the area around it seemed to get, the carpet lining the inside of the inn completely frozen at the face of the door, shattered to reveal that even the wooden flooring beneath and the stone base beyond that had all frozen solid, some pieces gone, whether by breaking or melting.

Winterhome itself was another thing entirely, for all you could see was white outside of the doors. Once you had exited, the door immediately slammed shut behind you, fracturing into a multitude of large chunks that had slammed into your bare back, which did nothing, sliding off of your skin like a drop of mildew down a leaf. The citadel had been buried in snow that hardened until it shattered, then froze even beyond that. You could see rivulets of pale blue liquid that streamed down the cracks formed within ice and stone, with naught a bubble located within. There was no sound that you could hear other than the storm, for even your footsteps had been muffled by the intensity of it.

It was white, you came to realize. White and near textureless, the closest the world had ever gotten to the Citadel of Spirals. Winterhome was eerily like home, whatever home had been, tranquil save for the storm, but without color save for the pale blue liquid that seemed to originate from the very air itself.


What did you do?

>You called forth your Geodesic Beast and mounted it, abandoning Winterhome to its sorry fate

>You called forth your Geodesic Beast and set out towards the center of Winterhome, to the Citadel Tower

>You explored Winterhome whilst it was frozen in this state, with your beast on hand

>(Write-In)

>>4291147
>You explored Winterhome whilst it was frozen in this state, with your beast on hand

Vote will remain open until tomorrow at 1 PM Pacific Time.

>>4291147
>You explored Winterhome whilst it was frozen in this state, with your beast on hand
>examine the blue liquid more closely
I could imagine that this might illicit an uncanny valley reaction

>>4291147
>You explored Winterhome whilst it was frozen in this state, with your beast on hand
>examine the blue liquid more closely

>>4291548
>>4291562
Explore Winterhome
Examine the blue liquid

>>4291922
Your very first instinct as an Alchemist and as a bearer of secrets was to collect a sample of the strange blue fluid, which easily flowed into a straight glass tube that you had kept for such purposes. It was pale blue, the light reflecting off of it with an ethereal, almost dark pallor. Perhaps it was the distilled essence of air, something that you had never gotten right, for if you did, you would have been able to grow much more than the geodesic trees in your orchard. Perhaps the reason why you had never discovered its creation was because it needed to be distilled through cold instead of heat, but think that you'd discover another secret just through natural or unnatural phenomena was a thought that had never come to your mind, so busy were you tending to your garden.

Winterhome was a very different place when it was frozen, for it became hard to discern where you were. No longer could you tell the difference between the Main Square, the Merchant Quarter or anything else in this place than the hard snow and slush that covered the ground. The only way you had to orientate yourself was the presence of the Citadel Tower, whose top burned through the blizzard, a fiery red orange even in this cold temperature, and you could see it getting hotter. There was a light in this place, and you used that light to its fullest extent, exploring what you could and noting down what you could not.

Winterhome had completely frozen over, save for the Citadel Tower. It was white and near featureless, like the world had been prior the Anchoring, and th-

Your thoughts were interrupted by the distinct sound of something slamming hard against the frozen floor, a repetitive sound, much faster than your own Geodesic Beast, but it the sounds were made unmistakable. There were multiple Geodesic Beasts of a different type that were galloping throughout the streets of the Frozen City, and from where you heard, you estimated that they were riding towards the Citadel Tower.

What did you do?

>You got onto your beast and followed them

>You got onto your beast and broke for the Citadel Tower, to see it and to warn them of the outriders

>You got onto your beast and left the city, perhaps to find the High Falls, perhaps to exit from the lands of Gel entirely

>(Write-In)

>>4291990
>You got onto your beast and followed them
Hell yea, new livestock

Important choice, as such I will extend the vote to 1 PM Pacific Time tomorrow.

>>4291990
>You got onto your beast and broke for the Citadel Tower, to see it and to warn them of the outriders

>>4292292
Follow them on beast
>>4292985
Warn the Citadel Tower

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>4293704

>>4293723
Without a second to spare, you leapt onto your Beast of Burden, giving a silent command as it began to move at a hurried pace, the sound of the hooves clopping against the stone road growing louder and louder as you came closer. It then began to grow faint, and you could not let that happen. You were at first overjoyed at the thought that perhaps more of the Geodesic Beasts had remained themselves past the Anchoring. Then you remembered that such thoughts were ridiculous. All those who had not the will or power to resist its first encroachment were utterly consumed by the event, and then displaced from the Spiraled City into the world beyond.

It was then that you saw it, the Citadel Tower. Its flame had become blue, massive clouds of smoke, fire and steam erupting from its top and sides. It looked as if it were about to burst, such was its heat. As you grew closer, on the heels of the geodesic beasts that galloped through the streets, you could see the ocean of people beneath the Citadel Tower, praying in its warmth.

Then they had suddenly stopped. All noise ceased to be in but a moment.
What did you do?

>You continued onwards,undaunted by what had occured

>You fled from the Citadel, off to somewhere less complicated

>(Write-In)

>>4293749
>You continued onwards,undaunted by what had occured
I don't care that we aren't wearing pants let's go anyway.

>>4293749
>You continued onwards,undaunted by what had occured

I will return to count the vote tomorrow by 1 PM.

I am sorry for not updating more than once a day. I’ve grown terribly lethargic as of late.

>>4294757
Dude understandably, this one didn't really catch on. It's a shame this didn't get more attention. Don't feel bad about it or discouraged man.

>>4294058
>>4294176
You continued onwards, undaunted by what had occurred.

>>4295430
You continued onward, undaunted by the sudden and terrible silence. You had never truly empathized with the Anchored, for their lives were fleeting, and your memory of them even more so when you are busy. Your mount slowly paced towards the Citadel Tower, its heat palpable even from the distance you were at, for the ground was wet and had cracked from the heat. The surrounding buildings were alight with orange and red and yellow, dancing into the moonlit sky. You saw them, on five pale geodesic beasts. All were cloaked in the white textureless cloth of the Order of the Arcane Geometries, but this cloth was older and more valuable than what the Order could ever have.

They were there, ghosts in the milk light of the blizzard, the Citadel Tower erupting into flame as it burst, scattering enchanted gears and pumps to their sides, chunks of steel and stone slamming into the frozen statues beneath, shattering them into specks of red and blue.

All of them bore masks of pale material, relics of a time long before, without reflecting light nor rejecting it. Upon their heads were crowns, shapes more like, without intricacies but made of Geosteel nonetheless. One of their number began to move towards you, slowly, its pale sword out in the blizzard before it stopped. With a wordless shriek, they had vanished into the blizzard.

The Winter Storm stopped at that moment, revealing the extent of its power. Winterhome was gone, a blasted heath of snow and stone.

Now that you've witnessed something, what do you do?

>Shrug and go off to find some adventurers to take care of this problem

>Swear an oath of vengeance upon a nearby corpse

>Leave Winterhome and the Frigid Lands in general, for you are certain that nobody survived

>Search Winterhome for Survivors

>>4295460
>Shrug and go off to find some adventurers to take care of this problem
It would be good to get some people on this before we head out.

>>4295460
>Shrug and go off to find some adventurers to take care of this problem

>>4295460
>Set out to warn other cities in the Frigid lands about the fate of Winterhome.
More of out of courtesy rather than anything else.

>>4295460
>Set out to warn other cities in the Frigid lands about the fate of Winterhome
>oath of vengeance?

>>4295543
>>4295550
Shrug and go off to find some adventurers

>>4296977
This situation could be solved by a group of adventurers. In fact, you knew just the group to call on. While you weren't very certain about their ability at first, their return had returned your faith into that group. You saw them from a distance, the storm having cleared up, a large bubble of white that suddenly popped, revealing the group. The Tower of Plates made several exaggerated gestures, likely asking 'What in the name of the Five happened to Winterhome!?' whilst the Sage Local merely sighed, the hooded figure's head leaning into his staff.

That magic was old, a usage of one of the many secrets uncovered by Elphas in the age before the Anchoring, but it had inevitably proliferated among those who he bothered to teach. Who then proceeded to teach their students until their student's students eventually forgot about the spell entirely.

You could of course appear to them in your current form, or you could dash into the Inn and quickly grab your clothing to blend in.

What did you choose to do?

>You appeared to them in your true, undaunted form and asked them to quest for you

>You appeared to them in the form of a stranger in furs, asking them to accept a quest

>(Write-In)

>>4297002
>You appeared to them in the form of a stranger in furs, asking them to accept a quest
Getting a quest from a strange man in a cloak is standard fare for adventurers. A naked formless man-thing walking up to them certainly isn't.

>>4297002
>You appeared to them in your true, undaunted form and asked them to quest for you

>>4297103
Dressed in furs
>>4298173
True naked form

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>4298232

>>4298246
You took a short detour into the Inn, where you descended down the iced over staircase, frozen to the smallest bits of it, before you found your room. Your clothing hadn't frozen over, strangely enough, only having a tinge of light frost building upon its outermost layers. You quickly donned your furs and then slipped on your multi layered boots, before you began the slow trek up the many icy staircases. You learned through trial and error that although you may not have been beholden to the new laws that governed this world, your clothing certainly was.

Eventually you got back onto your geodesic beast with its tabard over it, and made your way towards the group which quickly settled down upon seeing you on the back of that great gedeosic thing.

How do you greet them?

>You went straight to the point, asking if they could help you with something

>You hailed them at first

>You waved at them

>(Write-In)

>>4298273
>You went straight to the point, asking if they could help you with something

>>4298273
>You went straight to the point, asking if they could help you with something

https://twitter.com/standoqm/status/1270114070578913280
Stando is busy and tired so I archived the thread http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/4270958/
Get some rest buddy, this thread was a good one. It's a damn shame it didn't catch on more. We await your return one day.