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There is a booming, thumping, cradling pain in the back of your head. You do not remember how you came to be slouched over on hard and unfriendly material, but you are so, anyway. Your oddly shaped head is trickling sweat and staining the papers that rest on your cheek.

In the grand scheme of things, you are a lumpy mass of coagulated meat that twitches and spasms when the neurons in your brain fire at the right frequencies. Said brain is currently very inactive, and a dull sensation runs through it. You do not remember why you are where you are, or how you ended up there. If that is the case, you may be far from where you ought to be, that being your post in zone 1. Dedan is very strict! He will not play nice with you when you return. Dreary and clammy hands run off the table, slumping into some vague form of awareness. You pat yourself down.

As consciousness begins to entangle itself to your senses, your first instinct is to:

>Feel in your back pockets.
>Gaze at the papers on the table.
>Slap yourself awake and stand up for Pete’s sake!

>>5806814
>Slap yourself awake and stand up for Pete’s sake!
Be wary of batters

>>5806814
>Slap yourself awake and stand up for Pete’s sake!
Oh shiiiiiit

>>5806814
>Slap yourself awake and stand up for Pete’s sake!

>>5806814
>Slap yourself awake and stand up for Pete’s sake!

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Good Heavens! You slap yourself silly in an attempt to escape the fugue state you have found yourself in. Spittle flies from your lips and a sharp spike of adrenaline rushes to your head. It works! You are spared another moment of restless blackness.

You must have binged pretty hard on the sugar last night, because you can’t remember a single thing about what led up to this point in time. When you try to think back to it, there's nothing but fuzzy colors and lurid sensations. Blegh. Perhaps in time you will sort out what it was you were doing in that span of time, but now is not the time to let your mind wander on such trivial pursuits.

In the bleeding awareness that follows, you look around. You are in a small, dingy little room. The small salty seawater threatens to loom into said room, but it’s only on the faintest hair of your senses. Sweat dribbles from your brow and threatens to drop onto your exquisitely white shirt unless you decide to stop standing around and spring to action. As you wipe a slack-jawed expression from your face, you decide to:

>Investigate that table! We did not give it a good enough look.
>Leave. The table will not tempt you with its vices.

>>5806856
>Leave. The table will not tempt you with its vices.

>>5806856
>>Investigate that table! We did not give it a good enough look.
Temptress...

>>5806856
>Leave. The table will not tempt you with its vices.
VILE SHE-DEVIL. BEGONE AND TROUBLE ME NO MORE!

>>5806856
>Leave. The table will not tempt you with its vices.

>>5806856
>Leave. The table will not tempt you with its vices.

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>Leave. The table will not tempt you with its vices.

You step out into a plasticine world.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3rHk_F9bRDg

File: mask1.png (105 KB, 744x776)

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“Ah? It’s been a hot minute. I’ve been waiting for so long, haven’t I?”

Dancing whales cast dark shadows across the landscape. A bright flickering light is blocked out by the large mammalia and stains the dancing water with shadow. The air is white, and the ground is yellow, and there is no other color. The smell is sterile.


Hot breath is running down a plastic mask, and expectantly waits for you to acknowledge it. You turn to your right and a slouched figure stares back at you from behind a colorless mask. He’s buried in a fuzzy sweater and a backpack is sandwiched between the wall and his cradled form. Your eyes ache and your back hurts. Your head is filled with fuzzy messages and barking orders. You are also very sweaty.

“Tell me, and not you, you ugly little thing. I’m speaking to all of you staring at these words, of course. It would be foolish to ask each one of you directly, but I would prefer to address you when necessary. It’s time to choose your name, Anonyme.”

>The New Judge
>The Jury
>The Bourreau

“It is much easier to refer to a collective by one name,” speaks the masked man. “Distinction is preferable to blurry responsibility.”

Please choose your collective name.

>>5806932
>The Jury

>>5806932
>The Jury

>>5806932
>The Jury
Judge, Jury, Executioner
Hmm. Ominous! But Jury, we are. This is our nature.

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“The Jury. Nice and simple. That is a name I can get down with, ah…”

The wind carries a sad sigh. The masked man hums behind his bird mask and it’s carried off into the sunset and into the fat blubber of the whales in the sky. You begin tapping your foot. What has this character got to do with you?

“It’s nice to meet you, Jury. This here is Boromir, if you couldn’t already tell. Ehehehe…”

He gestures to your shirt. You look down and see nothing out of place. The significance of his comment is lost on you.

“I see you’ve made it to the land of the living! That was one crazy trip you had. I didn’t think you’d wake up. My name is Zacharie. This is zone 0. Don’t worry about the details, if you really were a prickly prick to bury us all, you’d be struck down by now. No, you feasting caterpillar. Eheheh… I’ve set up a little tutorial for you. Every good little adventure needs an introductory segment.”

Zacharie makes a sweeping gesture at the landscape in front of you. You see nothing of significance besides a block off in the distance. It’s definitely strange.

If you’d like, I’m available to chat before you do. Or maybe you’re raring at the bits to go jump right into things? Teeth chattering from excitement? Or gnashing for some excitement….”

What a relatively bizarre situation. The man in the mask is completely foreign to you, speaking in a bizarre tone in whispery, hushed tones. You are free to strike up a conversation, or you can jump straight first into what he calls his introductory segment. What to do?

>Jump straight first into adventure. Get getting!
>Strike up conversation. This boggling character needs to be interrogated.

(sorry for wait, took a nap -_- hope everyone is enjoying so far! :) )

>>5807104
>>Strike up conversation. This boggling character needs to be interrogated.
I haven't played OFF in a while but this has been pretty good!

>>5807104
>Strike up conversation. This boggling character needs to be interrogated.

>>5807104
>Strike up conversation. This boggling character needs to be interrogated.

>>5807104
>Jump straight first into adventure. Get getting!

File: interrogate.png (165 KB, 649x522)

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>Strike up conversation. This boggling character needs to be interrogated.

You glare down the masked character. Zacharie waggles his arms a little. It’s almost quaint underneath the sound of drowning sirens and boggling, groaning, churning. The stench of conversation looms over you.

“Ah, is it not unwieldy? This, ehhe, format. Whatever. I cannot predict the future- Your questions. But I can see the present. I can’t prove anything I can say, but I certainly don’t spread rumors. Tell me, what is it you want to ask? Don’t be shy- you don’t get to choose more than one option in dialogue. That’s the kind of game we’re playing.”

That is the question. Zacharie is a forehead-warming chattering little mouse. Whether or not you can or should trust this fellow might as well be a coin toss. Yet- what other choice do you have? What a depressingly difficult conundrum! You feel as if you are a brain and eyes and ears and mouth, but not a head.

Zacharie waits for the Jury to answer.

>Ask about the sky whales.
>Ask about the local happenings.
>Ask what you should be doing.

>>5807206
>Ask what you should be doing.

>>5807206
>Ask what you should be doing.

>>5807206
>Ask about the local happenings.
Figure we oughta get the lay of the land as well

>>5807206
>Ask about the local happenings.
Never expected to see an OFF quest. Kino shit.

>>5807206
>Ask about the local happenings.

>>5807206
>>Ask about the sky whales.
these werent there before

>>5807206
>>Ask about the local happenings.
find out where the weird shit is going on so we can make boromir not useless in a fight

File: happenstance1.png (307 KB, 977x1749)

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>Ask about the local happenings.

“It’s a damn shame you won’t be able to check those other options. Ah! Ah! Hhhh…”

There’s a whispery, dulcet tone from behind his mask. The tendrils of which he calls hands clasp and waggle in excitement.

“Open your eyes, you ghoul! There’s whales in the sky and the water runs purple with mucus. You really must have lost a chunk of your memory if you think that’s normal. Ah… The smell of blood… from the Alma Fountain. Like a leaking pustule, something’s gone awry. It’s spilling out to zone 0, and drawing the whales from hibernation. Perhaps if you were at your post over there- doing your job- you could be doing something about that. But what do I know?”


Zacharie is animated, he gestures widely to the gray sky and the whales that dance around the air. You peer up at them, following the trail of his words. They make you feel miniscule.

“Fret not! Fret not! A pedalo ride washed up just past the bank of the shore. If I were you- which I’m not, what do I know, but in the circumstance I was- I would take and ride until I reached one of the quiet little farming shores of Pentel. It’s where the shores are quietest, and your safest bet of making it to land.”

The bile of another question raises to your throat, but before anything materializes, Zacharie is gone, disappearing into the blackness of your peripheral vision. Those merchants and their ability to appear only when needed. What a character!

File: STATUS1.png (529 KB, 2409x2216)

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STATUS: UPDATED.

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You dawdle no longer! Making your way forwards, you encounter a bloque of the most utmost significance. Somethin tells you that this is the preparation Zacharie had prepared for you. At the current moment, it appears to be both too wide to simply walk around and too important to leave un-interacted with. The corners of the foreign object betray the nature of the obstacle- it is both obtuse yet terminally defeatable. You must overcome this bloque if you are to make it back to your post! Your first challenge- one of many.


For the simplicity of the bloque, its opaque yet minimalist nature serves as a canvas for you to exercise your authority unto the object. How shall you triumph over this obstacle?

>Kick un bloque, vent some frustration.
>Reach into your INVENTORY for something that could help.

>>5807537
>>Reach into your INVENTORY for something that could help.

>>5807537
>>Reach into your INVENTORY for something that could help.

>>5807537
>Reach into your INVENTORY for something that could help.

>>5807537
>Kick un bloque, vent some frustration.
Total Bloque Death

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>Reach into your INVENTORY for something that could help.

You fish into your pockets. Surely if something where to come in handy, it would be easily available and in your back pocket. Indeed, having never bothered to check, you find a cold clammy contraption within reach. As you pull it out, it begins to take shape. First a handle, then a chamber, and finally it’s unimpressive barrel. If there were ever a way to remove an obstacle from your path, this would be it. The metal is nice and smooth in your palms.

ADD-ON ACQUIRED: REVOLVER

If you’ve been given a gun, there isn’t any reason not to use it, right?

Instinctively, you raise your hands steady and aim towards un bloque.

File: zone0battle1.png (831 KB, 986x2165)

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The block begins to shake.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t-9xbgTHpLA
Purification in progress…

File: tutorialcombat.png (70 KB, 992x531)

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Combat tutorial has been provided in image. It’s time for your first combative action, Jury. Do you:

(DEFENSIVE: GO FOR A LEG SWEEP)
(OFFENSIVE: SHOOT RIGHT AT THAT NASTY’S BRAIN!)

(hope everyone is enjoying this so far! Apologies if anything is a little unorthodox, not super used to QMing yet but trying my best!)

>>5807636
can I turn on auto battle?

>>5807636
>Shoot that motherfucker

Rolled 27 (1d100)

>>5807636
>OFFENSIVE
KILL BOROMIR
KILL!!!

Rolled 57 (1d100)

>>5807639
i forgot the dice

>>5807636
>(DEFENSIVE: GO FOR A LEG SWEEP
Defense best offense

Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>5807636
>SHOOT

Rolled 79 (1d100)

>>5807669

File: zone0battle1two.png (2.06 MB, 1166x3030)

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Quickly drawing your revolver, you fire off a round at the nasty’s head. Rippling plumes of smoke billow forwards and encase the skull of the lithe beastie. When the clouds part, you can see that half the creature’s skull has been reduced to a black powdery ash. spindly tendrils of the beast's muscle and tissue is all that is left of the upper portion of its skull, but its gaze is unflinching and it move’s with the swiftness of a jackal. The looming mass of muscle seems barely affected as it lurches forwards, grabbing at whatever it can get its hands on.

You pull a hard left, clench your fist against the cold handle of your gun, and in a short, quick breath, pull the trigger again. You almost miss, the jerky and spastic movement of the creature threatens to throw off your aim, but another dull thud follows the pull of your trigger as another piece of the gnashing giant disappears into mist. In a moment of hesitation, you wait, hoping for the sound of a meaty body dropping against cold, hard ground.

Instead, fingers like long tendrils poke out of the smoke one by one, aimed directly at your throat. You go to fire again, but you simply aren’t quick enough. Hard nails threaten to break the skin underneath your collar as you are hoisted into the air, legs kicking and spasming. Your sense of orientation threatens to give out as twitchy, sinewy movements thrash you about. The ashy jaw of the thing strangling you gurgles and spits a black tar. You are about to be thrown hard into the ground if you do not act quickly!

>(DEFENSIVE: BITE INTO THE CREATURE’S HANDS)
>(OFFENSIVE: TRY FIRING AGAIN)

Rolled 25 (1d100)

>>5807765
>>(DEFENSIVE: BITE INTO THE CREATURE’S HANDS)

Rolled 52 (1d100)

>>5807765
>(OFFENSIVE: TRY FIRING AGAIN)
KILL THEM ALL, BOROMIR!

Rolled 54 (1d100)

>>5807765
>(OFFENSIVE: TRY FIRING AGAIN)

>>5807765
>(DEFENSIVE: BITE INTO THE CREATURE’S HANDS)
Unironically pretty fucking cool.

File: zone0b1three.png (1.63 MB, 1260x1969)

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>>5807783 (WINRAR)
>(DEFENSIVE: BITE INTO THE CREATURE’S HANDS)

In a last ditch effort to save your skin, you bite into the creature's hands as it throttles your neck. Canines sink deep into flesh and draw a thick tar that threatens to stain your teeth. The substance dribbles down your chin and onto the floor beneath you as gurgling noise polyps from the throat of the foul thing. It erratically loses its grasp on your collar as you feel yourself begin to fall. Slamming into the ground is no worse pain than the chokehold, but this will pass.

The grim nasty is startled, retreating inwards, cradling its own form as it wobbles unsteadily. The thick stench of blood oozes out of the gaping maw of the creature, and it’s almost pitiable as it watches the substance dribble onto the ground in a liquidy mound. Now is the time for action. You focus all your energy into the tail-end of your revolver barrel, your whole body meeting at the tip of where your hands meet cold steel. You pull the trigger.

File: zone0b1four.png (1.88 MB, 1750x2348)

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As the beast lunges, small ripples trace across its skin as it slowly crashes full force into the blunt gunshot. The stringy, sinewy form of the creature is blown into chunks, then into ever-dissolving threads of blood and tissue. With a heavy, low thud, the meaty carcass crashes into the ground in front of you. The lumps of coagulated tar that spill out from the creature poor into puddles of inky blackness. You pull your feet closer to your body as you attempt to keep the substance from staining your shoes.

You take a deep breath as sweat falls in small droplets onto the front of your shirt, threatening to stain your tie. You can’t get the air into your lungs fast enough. Clutching the gun to your chest, your shaky hands rattle the weapon around, creating small clinking sensations. It is the only sound in the otherwise dead area. Zacharie is long gone. So is the lump of flesh in front of you (metaphorically speaking). You stand up, an aching in every pore, every fold and every lump of your being. You slowly step over the mound of quickly rotting dead, careful not to get your shoes dirty. It is time to carry forward. You don’t want to be later than you already are getting back to your post, do you?

(its 2 am for me haha, continuing tomorrow. hope everyone is having fun!)

>>5807831
damn these drawings look sick

>>5807831
I'm liking it so far and the art is cool.

>>5807831
This is nothing short of gnarly

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The air is chilly against your skin, which has despite your best efforts been stained with a sticky black tar that smears when you wipe it. Ugh. You try your best to avoid thinking how you’ll have to iron press this shirt again.

The zone has finally opened up into a more expansive little desolation, and as the water ebbs and flows against the hard edges of the terrain, you take a look at the area around you. To your front is a grandstanding building, once a monument to the heights of architecture, now nothing more than a elder pillar lost to time. The appearance of the material looks like that of cracked clay, or perhaps melting concrete, as its surface is scattered with wind-swept indentations and the appearance of rough gravel. Support beams jut out of the building like broken bones, slowly pricking the sky. A ladder that seems to stretch infinitely across the surface of the building runs along its exterior.

To your immediate right however, you can spot a few pedalo rides, stranded out of space and slowly grinding against the shore with the pulse of the waves. Said grinding most definitely has worn down their beautiful architecture, making them infeasible for travel. The avian silhouettes run and jut along the coast and into the horizon. Perhaps if you investigate the coast further, you could find a workable ride.

You are anchored in place as the waves fizzle around you. You decide to:

>Climb the ladder of the tall building
>Search the coast for a usable pedalo ride.

>>5807940
>Search the coast for a usable pedalo ride.

>>5807940
>Search the coast for a usable pedalo ride.
We needn't disturb the whales.

>>5807940
>>Search the coast for a usable pedalo ride.

>>5807940
>Climb the ladder of the tall building

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>Search the coast for a usable pedalo ride.

As interesting as the building appears to be, you’d much prefer getting out of here and getting back to your job. Dedan is probably already frothing mad, and you’d prefer to be late earlier than being late later. A blithe little dust perks up underneath your feet as you trudge down the coast, and you find a particularly numerous amount of pedalo rides to be particularly numerous. In a groggy, mucus-y haze you remember a shipment of pedalo rides being ordered by upper management. But what are they doing all the way out here? Official policy is to keep all pedalos under strict lock and key unless they’re being used.

As you rummage through the wreckage of multiple plasticine carriages, you finally find a pedalo that isn’t completely run-down. You set the ride upright, and as you do, a powdery, white mist covers your palms. You look down to inspect the mist, but as you do, you find your attention drawn to a husky giggling from behind you.

“Ah, that was a nice workout, was it not? I hope you weren’t too busted out of shape by that test of patience.”

It’s Zacharie. His gaunt walk is as jolly as ever as he thumbs the straps of his backpack. You eye the strange character up and down, carefully looking for anything out of the ordinary. Despite your watchful gaze, it appears the shop keep is completely ordinary (as ordinary as the man can be, atleast).

“I must duly apologize for having disappeared on you, earlier. I’m not much for spectating other people playing games. But you did it! For that, you have my confidence. You and the jury both must have worked yourself to the bone out there, however. You must be thirsty, right? Care for a drink?”

Zacharie reaches lazily behind himself, into some unseen pocket of his pack. He thumbs for a moment, then pulls out a small little canteen. He holds it out to you, expectantly, and gives it a little wriggle of his wrist.

>Accept the offer.
>Decline.

>>5808026
>Decline.
temptation

>>5808026
>Decline.

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>Decline.

As politely as you can, you turn down the offer of the canteen. Zacharie sloshes the object a bit in what can only be described as a very half-hearted shrugging motion. He caps the small black container back into his backpack, and begins walking towards you with a very nonchalant gait.

“No hard feelings, good chum. You can get quite dry in the throat after burning out like that, but maybe your mother taught you not to take candy from strangers. I can assure you, however, that I have your best interests at heart ninety percent of fifty percent of the time. Honest.”

Impulsively and awkwardly, you scratch the bottom of your chin. Zachaire chuckles a little- perhaps that was his idea of a joke. You turn back to the pedalo ride, and attempt to get the vehicle dislodged from the current rut it’s in. You push for a good ten seconds, forehead turning red with heat. Try as you might, however, you simply cannot get this thing unstuck. Zacharie, somewhat perplexed, cocks his head. This may be a two man effort. You look back to the masked salesman, face scrunched and looking half expectant and half hesitant. You may not take candy from strangers, but you sure could use a stranger’s help.

“At the very least, let me help you get sailing.”

Zacharie joins you, and together, the two of you begin to push the pedal into the congealing water at the coast. With his help, you finally unstick the avian from its spot and it bounces on the surface of the water, bobbing. You turn to Zacharie, and you can’t help but be the littlest bit appreciative. Unreadable under the mask, he carries himself lackadaisical-y, if not out of breath.

“You cannot say I don’t offer any favors. Ah! hehe…”

You hop aboard the small duck, and push yourself into the liquid. The carriage bobs as it enters the water, making a small wave that threatens to splash you. Then, it begins to drift. Slowly but surely ambling away from zone 0, you watch as the shore gets smaller and smaller, and as Zacharie turns into a blurry black dot in the distance.

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You sail, and you sail, and you sail.

You float in a vast fizzy expanse for what seems like forever, underneath the churning and groaning guts of hungry whales. After what feels like an eternity, you finally see a small outcrop of land- what must be Pentel. You let a warm breath escape from your throat.

Two deep, guttural gurgles fill the sky.

https://files.catbox.moe/fhk4wy.mp4

(END CHAPTER 1)

>>5808065
Holy kinoroni. That's amazing.

>>5808065
KINO

File: chapter1redone.png (1.33 MB, 1788x2101)

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redo of the chapter 1 splash screen. wasn't a sufficient level of quality. gonna take some time to prepare for chapter 2, will prolly be this same thread since we've only got 70 posts atm. ty for the positive feedback so far! it means a lot.

>>5808065
That was awesome. This quest deserves more traction.

>>5808078
You are welcome back anytime QM, awesome stuff

File: intermission.png (152 KB, 501x386)

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INTERMISSION
https://files.catbox.moe/ce6b6o.mp4

(click link for animation!)

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Whale blubber and red, mucus-y carcass fall from the sky. It creates grand fizzy waves that assault the pedalo, jostling you around and throwing you to the floor. The cold interior of the ride is musky and sticky, but you can’t get to your feet under the assault of whale organs crashing from above. All you can hear is the explosions of waves and detonations of plastic liquid. It trenches the pedalo, and it kicks and screams against the motion of the water. Pentel becomes a radio static blip, occasionally appearing from behind the chaos of the ocean. The waves threaten to overpower the miniscule boat and capsize the vestibule completely. You’ve got to do something.

>Attempt to steer the pedalo ride through the chaos.
>Attempt to swim the rest of the way to shore.

>>5808751
Yo that was sick. Literally and metaphorically. I think he was spitting out whales?
Also what's the name of the music? It sounds nice.

>>5808815
>Attempt to steer the pedalo ride through the chaos.

>>5808815
>Attempt to steer the pedalo ride through the chaos.
Even if we're sent off-course, it's still better than to risk drowning.

>>5808815
>>Attempt to swim the rest of the way to shore.

>>5808815
>Attempt to swim the rest of the way to shore.

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Holding on with knuckle-whitening intensity, you attempt to steer your way through the battlefield of the falling debris. You send the ship spiraling, bobbing and splashing against the cavalry of blood and organry. You can almost see the shore.

It’s then that like concrete, the crunched whale drops from the sky, creating a tsunami of explosive force. It sends your miniscule husk of the pedalo careening in the air, soaring on waves like a needle in a hailstorm. The deafening clap of the cadaver smashing its frail bones into the hard tension of the water’s surface rings your ears, and before you know it the floor turns itself into a ceiling, of which you smash your cranium into. In an instant, a fall into an encompassing blackness.

You can feel your body drifting, being tugged on by foreign hands. After some alien amount of time, your eyes begin to take in light…

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“Is he awake?”

“No he’s not awake. He’s dead.”

“No- he’s not dead, he’s awake.”

“Copy- he’s awake.”

You see your reflection in a cross-eyed miasma of dark glass. It almost bounces off the two suits of the men peering down at your lumpy would-be corpse.

“Inspection Crew, copy- one elsen unaccounted for.”

“Over, send in proper accounting form.”

File: chapter2.png (1.52 MB, 1788x2101)

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You have awoken in Pentel, the meat farm of zone 1.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NxuNPULiuH4

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One of the helmeted men marches over to you, boots marching in swampy rhythm. From an unseen flap in his coat, he pulls out a small sheet of paperwork for you to fill out. A pen- luckily, thank goodness these men have some manners- has been provided for you. At the top is a large, almost unprofessionally bolded and underlined space for you to fill in your name. These inspectors- if they even are such things- are quite strange. How do you fill out the paper?

>Be professional. Write Boromir.
>Screw these guys. Write the word “flatulence.”

>>5809037
>Be professional. Write Boromir.

>>5809037
>Be professional. Write... Wait. What are these papers for?

>>5809037
>>Be professional. Write Boromir.

>>5809037
>Be professional. Write Boromir.

>>5809037
>Be professional. Write... Wait. What are these papers for?

>>5809037
>Be professional. Write Boromir.

>>5809037
>Be professional. Write... Wait. What are these papers for?

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>Be professional. Write Boromir.

Instinctively- maybe it’s your professional nature- you write out Boromir on the paper. You can feel eyes stare at you from behind the glass panes of the bulbous space suit helmets. Like a pin pricking the back of your skull however, a little birdie cries out to read what you signed before handing it over to the Inspector. Though your vision is hazy, you can make out some of the first line.

“Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod…”

This is stupid. You stop reading.

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The masked men- inspectors, you ought to call them- help you to your feet. A muddy coagulating sweat sheens your forehead, but you steady yourself with the help of the two. Sloshy clanking follows each footstep of the two inspectors as they wander off, motioning for you to follow them. The white hot sweaty air smells of vinegar and burnt plastic. It seems they’re heading for the barn. You’d prefer the smell of barn animals to whatever smog fills the air right now.

The sweat staining the back of your shirt is finally running cold. This old ramshackle building was built, like all things, long before you can remember. You know it’s the job of your coworkers to keep the barn up to standard to keep the cows happy, but as of late it’s been an unofficial policy to let them wander around outside in little pens. Something about it being good for their morale. You’ve heard Dedan has a fondness for the bovine creatures (at least from other folk who work around Pentel), and as such has permitted this minor rule breaking. Usually, he’s strict as can be. That’s the cost of keeping this show running, you suppose.

Dreary little beams of light pour in from the cubical windows on the side of the barn. You see another elsen, weary and huddling, nursing a cup of water. Across the barn is a few overgrown bovine. The sound of clicking boots and thumping is a little ways off into the barn. Where do you wish to go?

>Walk up to the elsen.
>Investigate further into the barn.
>Check on the cows.

>>5809447
>>Walk up to the elsen.

>>5809447
>Walk up to the elsen.
WHY ARE THE COWS SO GROTESQUELY FILLED WITH MEAT AND/OR IRON

>>5809447
>>Walk up to the elsen.

>>5809447
>Check on the cows.

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>Walk up to the elsen.

The elsen, hunched over his bar as if he’s going to hurl, doesn’t notice you approach. The guy is practically nothing but shaky bones underneath that plain white shirt. The jittering of his teeth sound like rattling chains, black and charred. After a couple steps towards the limber elsen, he notices you, eyes dinner-plate wide and smacked with an expression of confusion. You aren’t sure exactly what to say first, but you are cut off by the other formal little chatterbox.

“Oh my god, there’s another p-person here. Lord.”

He knocks the small bar in front of him, unexpectedly, and it clearly hurts his hand hard. Reflexively, he reaches out his hand in greeting. It seems even the more diminutive elsen didn’t realize that’s what he’s doing. In some salvage attempt of this social disaster, you return the handshake.

“The inspection crew is here. I’ve never seen them before, only work stories… but- but there here. Something is seriously wrong around here. Dedan was supposed to be here to run regular inspections- did they take his place? I don’t know.”

Sweat is pooling at the bottom of his chin.

>Ask the elsen about who’s tending the cows.
>Ask the elsen about Dedan’s whereabouts.
>Ask the elsen where everyone else is.

>>5809705
>>Ask the elsen about Dedan’s whereabouts.

>>5809705
>Ask the elsen where everyone else is.

>>5809705
>Ask the elsen about Dedan’s whereabouts.

>>5809705
>Ask the elsen about who’s tending the cows.

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(not an update per se, just a quick thing for those not checking /qtg/. would love to have a little playable proof of concept once the quest ends, whenever that may be, but it all depends on how long this quest takes. if anyone has suggestions for any external file hosting websites for posting auxillary / bonus offquest art that im not able to fit into the quest, let me know! lots of concept art and such to show off for those interested)

>>5809859
I remember a few QMs using railway.app (though this one was buggy for me for some reason), worldanvil.com, and legendkeeper.com. Don't know if these are what you're going for, but worldanvil and legendkeeper have more professional feels to it and are easier to navigate for players, while railway.app has more technical/coding freedom (I think).

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>Ask the elsen about Dedan’s whereabouts.

“Dedan? He’s been gone…. Gone where? I have no clue… Hhhh… Alma’s all out of whack, nobody’s tending to the meat fountain… Wouldn’t you know about that?”

In truth, Dedan never seemed that mean- to you, at least. Harsh, yes, but he carried himself with a strictness necessary to keep the zone running. You had always interpreted him as a vivid pragmatist rather than anyone with a chip on his shoulder, but you’ve heard stories. Apparently he can be quite foul-mouthed sometimes, so maybe you’ve just been on his good side. You do find yourself worrying a bit for your superior. If he’s missing in action, things are going to get very bad very quickly.

There’s a sense of tingling hostility in the elsen’s voice. Perhaps there’s some misplaced jealousy there… Does he know your work post is in Alma? If Alma’s being left to dry, then it might be possible the rest of zone 1 is being neglected of its duties. This is only the first elsen you’ve met, usually the zones are bustling with activity. The chittering from the elsen resumes in its intensity as you formulate what to do next.

>See if you can get the elsen a drink and coax more information out of him.
>Investigate the rest of the barn.

>>5810902
>Investigate the rest of the barn.

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https://files.catbox.moe/vzu3eq.mp4

(waiting on one or two more votes, heres an animation and some promotional art to tide you over while we wait!)

>>5810902
>Investigate the rest of the barn.

>>5810902
>>See if you can get the elsen a drink and coax more information out of him.
Dedan's actually the only decent boss of the zones despite being an asshole, the other two are irredeemable pieces of shit.

>>5810902
Investigate the rest of the barn, we got to step up and make sure nothing's awry while Dedan missing

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>Investigate the rest of the barn.

You consider it would be improper to ply the other elsen with… whatever they’re offering. Most people around here are usually so thin-strung anyway- it’s the nature of the job. It gets to people. The foot-tapping little stick bug looks like he’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders anyway. Better to leave him be. Besides, you can investigate the rest of the barn for any insights on what's going on around here. As you leave, the diminutive elsen swigs from his drink again.

“I’m so gonna get fired…”

The barn, for the most part, is pretty orderly. Such spacious design allows for a variety of people to come and go from the place, making space for whatever need be at the moment. If you remember correctly, this place was used to store random crap that people had nowhere else to put, belongings and machinery and other random assortments. Now, however, it houses a variety of inspectors, all diligently dawdling away on their clipboards and devices. The hustle and bustle of the crowd gives the place an almost lively feeling, chirping, echoey chatter bouncing off the ever empty walls of the interior. You navigate your way to the back of the place, avoiding bumping into the worker ants as you do.

What catches your attention first is the radio static. Mountains of televisions, all haphazardly strung against the back wall of the farm- up to the ceiling- fuzz away in the background. Each display, as grainy as they are, makes clear the vision of an inspector. The views in each of the cameras are as frantic as they are diligent, toiling away routinely against the white static of the monitors.

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“Clear- I see you’ve noticed our surveillance system.”

Whirring wheels echo against the hardwood floor. It’s an inspector, arched lackadaisical over a small office chair. You turn to face him as he wheels over to you, taking a relaxed stance as he drapes himself over the back of his chair.

“It’s what we use to keep an open comm system between all inspectors during regular inspections- clear. It’s a pretty impressive piece of machinery- over. Only inspection crew is permitted to fandangle with it. Please refrain from touching the monitors- over.”

You glance incredulously at the screens. One of them, one in the middle, is totally black. You can’t help but stare into the inky reflection of yourself in the dimness of the screen. The inspector, following your gaze, and seems to take notice of your staring.

“Been out for a while. That camera is for inspection crew stationed in the mines. Only one- that’s been officer Delta’s job since we started doing inspections- over. We’ve sent a few personnel down there to touch base with him, but we’ve gotten no word back. Clear- I wouldn’t suggest going down there while we’re doing routine inspection- but…”
The inspector seems a little hushed in his tone, thinking of what to say next.

“Delta’s a good man- over. I would like for someone to check up on him. If you’re heading down there, it would be profoundly appreciated.”

Your post in Alma is past is pretty far away from Pentel- if you want to get there your best bet would be catching the tram in Damien. Indeed, the fastest route to Damien is through the mines. You suppose it would be an empty gesture, seeing as it’s unlikely to meet this particular inspector again, but you could take up his offer.

>Take up the inspector’s request
>Refuse.

>>5811656
>>Take up the inspector’s request
might as well. guy is named like an add-on

>>5811656
>Take up the inspector’s request

>>5811656
>Take up the inspector’s request
If we can't reach Delta, maybe we can get the camera working while we're there?

>>5811656
>Take up the inspector's request
SIDE QUEST

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>Take up the inspector’s request

You nod your head, acknowledging your intent to help out the inspector. Carrying himself with a relieved affect, he gets up and fetches something out of his pocket. He produces a small white keycard, ordained with a nice plastic sheen and a little loop for your elongated neck. He hands it to you in an appreciative manner.

“Here, authorization pass- over. Will get you permission to head through the mines. With this, you can get all the way to Alma without much regulatory hassle- clear.”

Very nice, indeed. You give a small wave in recognition to the inspection officer. He seems pretty harmless, all things considered, and with whatever the heck is going on with this inspection in zone 1, you could use someone who has you in their good graces. You mention to the clad inspector that you intend, in a roundabout way, to get back to your post in Alma. He clasps his hands together with a leathery thump.

“That’s good. My shift should be over soon- over. I can grab a quick flight to Alma and meet you there. Thanks for this- over. I’d do it myself, but we’re working on a tight schedule.”

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You give the officer a wave, and head off on your way. The barn is crowded, yes, but stepping out into the harsh sunlight, it’s just as busy outside. Like worker bees, the inspection crew mumble to themselves and to each other, each busy in some clandestine task. The sound of thumping footsteps and routine chatter fill the air, alongside the occasional moo from one of the cows. Some stop to stare at you as you make your way through the crowd, and you flash them your pass. That usually is enough to get them back to whatever they were doing.

This routine inspection sure is strange. Usually, Dedan is stationed at his post, coming down like a god from the heavens to make sure everything is running correctly. You know Dedan. Dedan is normal. The inspection team is not normal. Or at least… you think? Since you work in Alma, your connection to the rest of zone 1 is a little faulty. It’s hard to focus on the politics of the area when most of your time is spent making sure the meat fountain is working properly. A diminutive drop of sweat runs down the back of your neck thinking about it.

Making your way to the entrance of the mine, you stand in front of the rather unimpressive ladder leading down into expansive darkness. You scratch your chin. You’ve never been good with tight spaces, and these mines have always seemed unpleasant to you, anyway.

Interrupting your thoughts is a cough and a misty plume of smoke. To your left, you realize someone has been watching you.

“‘Sup. You Boromir?”

It’s a lean mutt, cradling a cancer stick in her paws. Her attire is definitely out of place, and she eyes you from behind a leather cap that covers her face in shadow. You stare at the odd sight, but realizing it’s a little rude, you steady yourself. The mutt is awaiting a response.

>Ignore her and continue down the ladder.
>Answer truthfully.
>Dodge the question.

>>5811871
>>Answer truthfully.
your big head gives you away

>>5811871
>Dodge the question.
No, we are nobody.

>>5811871
>Answer truthfully.
Yes, who's asking?

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>Answer truthfully.

“Yeah. course you are. I already knew. Haha. Name’s Dahlia. Friend of Zacharie’s.”

Dahlia flicks the remaining cigarette into the cold hard ground, and stomps it into the heel of her boot. It leaves a dark murky trail smeared underneath her foot. She looks you up and down, once over, twice over, and goes to grab something from behind the block she was leaning against.

“Yeah, run your pockets. I got some good shit to sell you.”

Through grunted huffs she pulls up a large duffle bag, filled to the brim with oddities and obscure treasures. She lugs it over her shoulder with a heave, and her forehead is strained with wrinkles as she carries it over to you. Her footsteps are heavy and slow, but eventually, she lugs the thing over to you and it slams to the ground. She dusts herself off, pounces on it, and gets to work ruffling through the oblong bag. Roughly, she spits out a speech she clearly prepared but didn’t memorize.

“See, Zacharie is a wise guy. Shopkeepers like him flake when the medium changes. And his advice? Don’t get me started about that. Guys trying to circle a square. Now girls like me, we adapt. You can shadowbox the whims of random strangers for as long as you like, but Zacharie’s sales are valued in hindsight. Me? I live in the now.”

You have some trouble following along. She looks up, and it’s apparently obvious on your face, because she looks at you like you're the dumbest thing alive.

“What, you think there’s only one shopkeep around here? Only one official one, but if you only stoop for the lowest hanging fruit, you're gonna get apples covered in dirt. I’m unofficial, I’m edge.”

She stands up, and presents you with your options.

“Don’t worry about credits. You’ve got a pre-paid plan, haha.”

File: dahlia.png (321 KB, 1193x1100)

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ITEM SHOP!

DAHLIA’S SHOP OF HORRORS:
CHOOSE ONE ITEM TO HELP YOU IN YOUR QUEST.

>Ticket: It’s shiny and golden. Its seams are worn and thread-like.

>Phone Call: Plastic-y. Looks like a toy phone.

>Goodie Bag: Ew.

>>5812103
>Goodie Bag: Ew.
shit

>>5812103
>>Phone Call: Plastic-y. Looks like a toy phone.
TURURURURURU moshi moshi, bossu?

>>5812103
>PHONE CALL

>>5812103
>Ticket: It’s shiny and golden. Its seams are worn and thread-like.

>>5812103
>Goodie Bag: Ew.

>>5812103
>Phone Call: Plastic-y. Looks like a toy phone
>>5812103
Phone call, maybe Dedan is on the other end

File: E_BatterNeutral.gif (595 KB, 800x800)

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I fucking Love OFF, glad I decided to check /qst/ for the first time in years.

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>>5812780 (Thank you friend! I hope you enjoy!)

Dahlia makes a pit of memorabilia in the bag, from which she pulls out a small, plastic-y phone. It shines with a gross sheen emblematic of a cheap silicone mold rather than any specific noteworthy luster. She hands the phone off to you, shaking it expectantly.

“You slow on the uptake?”

Clutching the plastic object, you inspect it. The plug goes directly into an outlet, from the look of it. That’s interesting. You suppose if you can find somewhere to plug it in, you can call up… somewhere. The oblong object is practically weightless in your hand. Are you sure this thing even works? You go to ask the shopkeeper, but she’s wordlessly left the scene, leaving you shaking the phone directionlessly at the air. The only thing that returns your interest is the smooth reverberation of plastic water. All these shopkeepers certainly know how to make an exit.

ITEM GET: TOY PHONE

You are alone with your thoughts. The entrance to the mines looms underneath you, dim and cramped. A chill breeze that stings the back of your throat waltzes out from the entrance. With nothing left to do, you wordlessly descend into the mines.

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The smoke mines are uncomfortably dim. Every niche sound and minor click of your shoes echoes off the walls and reverberates around the room. It is both too cramped to breathe comfortably but too spacious at the same time, as if anything could lunge out from the walls of these treacherous caverns. Twisting and turning architecture coils around you, and your sense of direction gets a little fuzzy.

Finally, you are presented with a fork in the mines’ layout. Two paths, each diverging in opposite directions. Left and right. A classic conundrum for many explorers. To the left is a winding pathway, from which emanates a stench most foul. It bounces off the walls of the caverns and pricks your eyes, forcing you to look away for a moment. To your right, there’s the indistinct clatter of mumbly, echoey reverberations. The sounds are too indistinct to make heads or tails of, but a thick, pulsating sound spills out from the noise every moment or two. Which should you investigate first?

>Investigate the left corridor.
>Investigate the right corridor.

>>5812924
>>Investigate the right corridor.

>>5812924
>Investigate the left corridor
I think I know where Delta is, or lays.

>>5812924
>Investigate the left corridor.
Other Anon says that Delta might be that way, I say go for it in that case.

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(HAPPY HALLOWEEN! in the spirit of the holiday, gonna be running a short mini-quest based around the FAITH trilogy! didn't want to leave you fellas completely left in the dark so just letting you know. regular updates will resume as soon as the mini-quest is finished, which won't be longer than a day at most. spend some time with loved ones and get in the halloween spirit today! : D)

>>5812924
>Investigate the left corridor.

>>5813263
>off
>faith
>ping pong the animation
How do you have such kino taste, QM?

>>5812924
>>Investigate the right corridor.

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>Investigate the left corridor.

You pick the left corridor to continue down, with some judgemental coin flip. The walls narrow and even out after a bit. After a sharp right turn, the room opens up into a walled-in expanse. The lights are dim and the walls are stained with sweat from the interior heat of the mines.. What you see makes you gag a little.

Gasses from the twitchy bodies climb up to the ceiling, filling the area with a staining stench of rotting innards. Someone has made a mess of the room. There is no sign of life in any of these heaps of flesh. Ghoulishly, they have been ravaged with the force of what can only be described as that of an angry child. Glass shards and signs of a struggle litter the place. Your skin tingles, coming in contact with pale death. Something watery is tickling its way from your stomach to the back of your throat, playing a little game with your senses. The sensation to puke arises, but you battle it back.

The bodies are still fresh.

You take a moment, gather your bearings, and decide to get your shit together. What to do?

>Inspect the bodies
>Turn around and leave this room. You are not good with dead bodies.

>>5814319
>Inspect the bodies

>>5814319
>>Inspect the bodies

>>5814319
>Inspect the bodies
Maybe one of them has a nametag with "Delta" on it. We did agree to the inspectors request after all.

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>Inspect the bodies

You turn your nose and decide to wade into the pool of dead. There’s a sticky substance underneath your feet as you step headfirst into the room, and a wall of stench assaults you. You resist the urge to turn back and attempt to inspect the bodies for further clues as to what happened here, or if one of these poor souls is that Delta guy you’re looking for. Eyeing the corpses once over, you can see from those with broken glass visors that, indeed, underneath all the suits and fabric these inspectors are elsen- like you.

Staring at the face of these once-people gets a little distressing, and your gaze can't help but drift away. Some of the bodies have clear bullet holes, from which gunky black ink runs out like a sewer drain, pooling on the floor. From the looks of it, the aim of this apparent gunman isn’t that sharp, as multiple extemporaneous bullet holes riddle each body, as if overcompensating for poor aim. Either that, or whoever did this wanted to make certain that these inspectors were very dead.

You scan the suits themselves, looking for some sign of rank or designation. As far as it seems, these suits are completely irrespective of nametag, and you can’t make heads or tails of how these inspectors differentiate each other. Perhaps some mechanism of their visors? You stare at the body in front of you, but there’s nothing inside the interior of the helmet.

Clutched in the hand of that inspector, however, is a small metal apparatus that shines underneath the dark blood of the scene. You carefully attempt to claw the small item from out of the cold grip of the body. As you watch its shine dance across the reflective surface of the item, you come to the conclusion that it’s a small keycard. You pocket it, slowly feeling it sink into your pocket.

As you do this, you feel the quiet clatter of boots stomping behind you.

File: zone1b1one.png (6.43 MB, 3763x6638)

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“Over, this is officer Delta of the inspection team forty-two, over. I am not myself. Help me.”

You hear the click-clacking of machinery as the inspector readies some sort of long rifle across his chest.

“Please run- clear.”

With an almost drunken stupor the inspector fires off a round, and you feel the air near your head heat up from the intensity. A single bullet whirs past you, creating a small piercing sound as it speeds by. With a wobbly but swift motion, the inspector ejects a small round from the chamber of the rifle. You don’t even have time to draw your revolver as officer Delta prepares to fire again.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t-9xbgTHpLA
Purification in progress…

>(DEFENSIVE: RUN FOR COVER DEEPER INTO THE MINES)
>(OFFENSIVE: ATTEMPT TO RUSH DOWN THE INSPECTOR)

>>5814532
>(OFFENSIVE: ATTEMPT TO RUSH DOWN THE INSPECTOR)
Looks like we found inspector Delta.

Rolled 57 (1d100)

>>5814532
>>(DEFENSIVE: RUN FOR COVER DEEPER INTO THE MINES)

>>5814532
>(DEFENSIVE: RUN FOR COVER DEEPER INTO THE MINES)
I'm not taking bare hands into a gunfight. Retreat and collect ourselves.

>>5814532
>(OFFENSIVE: ATTEMPT TO RUSH DOWN THE INSPECTOR)

Bet he won't get another shot off.

you are supposed to roll guys

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The spirit of a wise cat shines within you...

(Please remember to roll when choosing! Remember, aim higher than 50 for an offensive action, aim lower than 50 for a defensive action! Sorry for not clarifying at battle beginning, will try and do so for future battles.)

Rolled 62 (1d100)

>>5814573
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Rolled 81 (1d100)

>>5814580
I voted for an offensive action.

>>5814583
>higher
Nice.

>>5814598
>higher
Nice.

Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>5814567
Rolling

>>5814616
>lower
Nice.

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>>5814583 (WINRAR)
>(OFFENSIVE: ATTEMPT TO RUSH DOWN THE INSPECTOR)

Scrambling to your feet, you rush down the former inspector, thrashing yourself into a state of hyperawareness. You can barely make out his silhouette as your feet move with an almost possessed panic. Swifter than your manic maneuver, however, is the inspector. He flails his arms, swatting the back of his rifle down and grabbing hold of the other end, as if it were a spear.

The sudden pain feels like a detonation in your head. A red throbbing sensation tickles your eyes. You are slammed into the ground- hard. Your side aches as you come into contact with the ground, an epileptic numbness surging through every ounce of your body. Through muddy and dull senses, you reach for your revolver, attempting to take aim at the inspector.

“Please run. I can’t help myself. Over.”

A shot rings out. From your hand radiates a burning sensation, like human bone being ground down on a sharpening stone. Your revolver is gone from your grip before you can even sense it. Your eyes dart, wide and glassy, to the hole in your palm. A bullet has ripped through the skin, tearing away a small puncture in the tender flesh of your hand. The pain is searing. You bite down hard as your head pulses with a thumping heartbeat. The sensation is the color of beating organs.

“Please… don’t come near me, I don’t want you to die- clear.”

A clicking tin sound emits from the revolver as it spins away, sliding across the floor. The gun is farther away than you’d like it to be, but if you make a mad dash you could grab it (if not exposing yourself to another prone shot from the gunman). Alternatively, you could run for cover into a nearby hallway, from which you could plan out your next route of attack.

>(DEFENSIVE: ESCAPE INTO A NEARBY HALLWAY)
>(OFFENSIVE: MAKE A DASH FOR THE REVOLVER)

Rolled 80 (1d100)

>>5815428
>(DEFENSIVE: ESCAPE INTO A NEARBY HALLWAY)

Rolled 90 (1d100)

>>5815428
>>(DEFENSIVE: ESCAPE INTO A NEARBY HALLWAY)

Rolled 4 (1d100)

>>5815428
>(OFFENSIVE: MAKE A DASH FOR THE REVOLVER)

>>5815429
>>5815448
>higher
oh no

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(sorry for the late response, but i see you fellas failed the roll (at an especially critical point too), which means im gonna have this battle go a little differently than i was planning, expect an update tonight or tomorrow! mwehehe... )
(also, lmk when it would be a good time to archive the thread, i think we still got some time left in this baby but if we reach a good stopping point i can archive it.)

>>5815835
goddammit guys
the thread's got a lot of juice left, we are just in page 3

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(ROLL FAILED)
With eager trepidation you attempt to reach out for something, anything, but your body refuses to move. It’s as if the synapses that tell your meaty limbs to pulse and contract are dull. You try hard to wade through the motionlessness of being, but you’re trapped.

Something spills out of your mouth as you beg for help, but there is no help to be found. Like sea water, regret comes gushing out of you and coagulates at the bottom of your mouth, gumming up your ability to speak. Static fills your eyes.

Wordlessly, the inspector Delta raises one foot in the air, and when it comes crashing down, you feel—

—
(Purification failed…)

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In those days there was no king in Israel: every man did that which was right in his own eyes.

Somewhere in the grand expanse of nothingness, something turns OFF.

1/7

CROWN STATUS: ESCAPED

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There is blackness. Something in the gray mush of your brain likes the cold, comfy expanse of darkness.

>Wait a little longer. Look deeper into the darkness.
>Open your eyes.

>>5816470
>Open your eyes.
Damn, roll fails are brutal.

>>5816470
>Wait a little longer. Look deeper into the darkness.
Painful reality can wait a while longer, blissful nothingness sounds great right now

>>5816470
>OPEN UP

>>5816470
>Wait a little longer. Look deeper into the darkness.

>>5816470
>Open your eyes.
WAKE UP

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>Open your eyes.

The stench of death lingers in your nose, and you gag. Like a flood of water, your senses come rushing back. A deep thumping pounds your ears. You stare at your hands, waiting for your sense of normalcy to return to balance. The world is heavier for some reason.

Looking down, something is off. Your clothes have been switched! You carry the heavy uniform of the inspectors. That keycard and your revolver are nowhere on your person, which causes a deep worry to run across your brow, staining it with concern.

You take a moment to glance at the room you’ve woken up in.

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The room is damp with sweat, a heated little interior with walls that seem to close in on you when you’re not paying attention. The lamp in the room carries tall shadows across the walls, and serves to illuminate the dingy room. There is an air of isolation to the room, as if it were some sort of makeshift panic bunker or something.

To your right is a small chest, saddled against the wall. It is the only noticeable object of interest within the interior of the area. Pinpricks of light stream into the room from the wall adjacent to you. There seems to be some pallet of the wall ajar.

>Investigate the chest.
>Investigate the wall.

>>5816693
>Investigate the chest.

>>5816693
>Investigate the chest.
Do the good old Shamrock Shuffle, container contain things. Whatever that chest contains is something valuable to someone by definition!

>>5816693
>>Investigate the chest.

>>5816693
>Investigate the chest.

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You open the chest. Inside is a helmet. It is heavy and broken, but there’s some circuitry still on the inside. It appears to have a video-chip, or some sort of recording device, layered on the inside of the helmet. Do you wear it?

>Wear the helmet and initiate the playback recording.
>Discard the helmet. It carries a bad aura.

>>5816800
>>Wear the helmet and initiate the playback recording.

>>5816800
>Wear the helmet and initiate the playback recording.
Discover it's secrets

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>Wear the helmet and initiate the playback recording.

You adjust the helmet and slide it over your oblong head. Taking a moment, you are surrounded in complete darkness, as the helmet visor envelops your vision. It appears that there indeed are mechanisms inside these visors for displaying information and pertinent information for inspectors. As your eyes adjust to the darkness, something in the helmet whirs to life.

Video begins to play.

https://files.catbox.moe/s4v1mn.mp4

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Before the video continues any longer, you wrangle yourself free from the blasted helmet, and your eyes readjust to the sudden influx of light. Rubbing your sweaty forehead in your palm, you watch as the helmet tumbles to the floor, emitting a loud clanging sound. Its visor goes dark, and the faint glow emanating from the device seems to disappear as it bangs onto the ground.

Whatever video playback was playing in the helmet, you could not describe. Something must have interfered with it, or messed with its memory, or some disgusting prank of some sort. From its position on the floor, you can clearly see a small engraving on the rim of the helmet, obscured by fat thumbed ignorance, before.

“Delta Officer - 42”

Some sick joke, or something.

You make your way over to the opposite wall and push it hard, watching the little strings of light that flicker from behind it dance in your vision. As the wall gives, you step back out into the mines, never to put that helmet on again- or any conspicuous headwear, for that matter.

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(last post for the night, gonna get some shut eye. Your next choice will come in tomorrow’s post. Hope everyone is having a wonderful night, as always.)

>>5816895
Thank you Mortis. Hope you have a good night's sleep too.

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(Minor news while I work on the update: OFFQUEST ORIGINAL MUSIC! composed by a good friend of mine. A custom battle theme, how fun!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SGdTKC6NXUU )

(also my id changed.... i think its because my wifi went out... carry on folks!)

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Your eyes take in the light as misty haze dances in your peripheral vision. The mine is musty, yes, but far less so than the cramped interior you were stuck in just moments ago. The air is cooler, safer, whiter, and your affect is much lighter as you step out back into the halls of the mine. You appear to be much deeper in the mine system, putting you somewhere in jogging distance of Damien, and the tram you hope to catch.

In front of you, however, is a figure, who stands at a distance not too far to be unable to make out but not too near as to be immediately recognizable. As you blink your eyes- once, twice- and begin to adjust to the wearily lit interiors of the halls of the vast mine system, you recognize this person as none other than:

>Zacharie, cradling something in his hands.
>Dahlia, barking (ah! haha) orders into a walkie talkie.

>>5817725
I dig it! this quest is brimming with raw talent.
>>5817952
>SANS UNDER- No its Zacharie

>>5817725
Yo this is based. I agree with the other anon all of this quest is raw talent.

>>5817952
>SANS UNDER- No its Zacharie
Ness?

>>5817952
>SANS UNDER- No its Zacharie

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>Zacharie, cradling something in his hands.

In comes Zacharie, that most zany character. You feel apt using the Shakespearian phrase in this instance, seeing his proper form stands in front of you now. He ducks and cradles something close to his chest, of which you cannot get a decent view of. He regards you for a moment, then shuffles whatever he was holding behind his back.

“Ah! Hahah, good to see you, my ally of good sorts! It has been a few since we last spoke, and I fretted for your safety the whole time. Why, not even in my wildest dreams could I have imagined seeing you here.”

You shoot him an unamused glance.

“Kidding, kidding. Nice outfit, by the way, comrade. Looks like you’ve been stripped of your most treasured treasures. Your revolver… It was not a cheap price, that thing. I would have spent a pretty penny getting that thing- if, assuming, I had gotten it for you at all. But fret not!”

Zacharie, in his bemusement, pulls out something from behind his back…

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“Do not ask me where I got these, chum. Trade secret!”

He holds in his hands two weapons, of which you may choose one. In his right is old reliable, a revolver with a snubbed nose, perfect for dealing with any nasty inhabitants who you get on the bad side of.

In his left, however, is something for the braver of souls… What appears to be a much flatter, sturdier weapon of a more mechanical luster. Its nose is flat and unwieldy, but it carries an aura of phallic, fatherly huntsman marking the broad side of a barn with its ejections. Yes, this weapon is much heavier than that of your revolver, but it has an undeniable edge that keeps you considering your options.

“What’ll it be? This isn’t a bargaining table, but I’m only willing to part with one of these babies. Consider it your tutorial warranty.”

>Choose the broader fusil
>Choose the reliable revolver

>>5819499
>>Choose the broader fusil

>>5819499
>Choose the broader fusil

>>5819499
>Choose the reliable revolver
We're a humble meat fountain operator, not some huntsman.

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(waiting on votes, gonna spend tonight working on translating the thread so far into rpgmaker. hope everyones having a good night!)

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(gonna wait a teeeeensy bit longer. heres a sneak peek)

>>5822261
it looks very cool

>>5819499
>Choose the broader fusil
Okay fine I'll quit lurking for a sec, shotgun get

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>Choose the broader fusil

You go for the much larger gun. The heavy metal weighs like an iron vice in your hands. Its machinery is well oiled, a slick purifying device for the modern man. Comparatively, your revolver is a much lighter, more slender piece of metal, but the damage this thing can do… It seems like a worthy tradeoff.

-MINUS ACCURACY
+PLUS DAMAGE

THE WEAPON FEELS DIFFERENT IN YOUR HANDS.
YOUR ROLLING SYSTEM IS NOW DIFFERENT!

ON DEFENSIVE MANEUVERS, YOU MUST ROLL AN EVEN NUMBER.
ON OFFENSIVE MANEUVERS, YOU MUST ROLL AN ODD NUMBER.

“And all for the price of free! Isn’t that fun! Who says a salesman can’t be generous?”

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The masked salesman waves you off, further and deeper into the mineworks system.

Twisting turns and archaic architecture throttle your sense of direction as you ascend from the mineworks back to normal civilization. The sun beams on your forehead. It’s a rippling effect on the senses as your lungs intake the clearer air from outside of those cramped and dark tunnels. You have reached Damien. You used to work here, once.

That was before you were promoted, who knows how long ago… It reminds you of a time of thick smoggy wafts of smoke and cramped corridors. Someone, some higher up (or higher power, even), must have taken pity on you. A promotion seemed out of the blue, yes, but it wasn’t unheard of. It was nice. You wish you could go back to the day of that promotion, the sickly sheen of the twinkle in your eyes as you left this place for good.

It’s empty now.

>Hop aboard the tram.
>Investigate the surrounding area.
>Check your pockets.

>>5823602
>>Investigate the surrounding area.

>>5823602
>>Investigate the surrounding area.

>>5823602
>Investigate the surrounding area.

>>5823602
>Check your pockets

>>5823602
>Investigate the surrounding area

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>>5823602
>Investigate the surrounding area.
Damn you anon.... such a based quest and you just leave like a deadbeat father

Si tu lis encore ceci, merci pour la quête. The switch seems to now be on off.

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hey, offquest qm here. as much as i appreciate the enthusiasm you guys have shown, i just cant keep up the energy for a full quest of this scope. i really apologize for flaking like a bitch, but i figure i should just be upfront about it. running a qst has given me a lot of cool ideas, especially when it comes to player driven narratives, and i cannot thank you fellas enough for playin while it lasted. if you wanna call me a fag or whatever i totally get it, its dissapointing and it sucks. im gonna spend some time organizing all the shit ive made in the off (haha) period of running this quest and if you have any questions for the direction the quest would have taken or how things would have played out, shoot me a question. again, i sincerely apologize for letting you fellas down, but yeah, qst is pretty much over. im sorry.

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here's the concept art i originally made for officer delta, including a mockup animation i planned to retool for the fight

https://files.catbox.moe/eg00cy.mp4

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a grand bossmonster planned to be the final real encounter, in which the perspective would shift and you would be fighting boromir via the thread. never really conceptualized the idea outside of having failed rolls be what the thread was aiming for to avoid hurting boromire, but this is the general concept for the grand jury fight

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enemy designs for a possible game version of offquest. probably was never gonna be like a crazy big thing but i had fun designing em haha

https://files.catbox.moe/5xgnf6.mp4 heres some gameplay for what the rpg wouldve played like, about a days worth of messing in rpgmaker

that's about everything. again, i cannot thank you guys enough for showing interest in this project while it was ongoing. much love to everyone in the thread. but yeah, figure its better to be upfront than to flake any longer. if i ever run a quest in the future, i will certainly try to temper my scope a little better, but this has been an invaluable learning experience. peace and love, enjoy your thanksgiving, and bless all of you fellas

>>5840269
its understandable, quests are high maintenance with little reward, draw quests even more so. regardless, you got a lot of potential so keep refining your craft, people are gonna love it
so, was zacharie actually definitely totally trustworthy?
was boromir named after the well known LOTR character?
is dedan actually a softy on the inside?
what would happen if boromir dies seven times?

>>5840303
zacharie was legit on the player's side yeah haha
boromir's name came from wanting to use a random russian name for our main elsen. most everything about him was decided on the spot in that first post haha
dedan is an interesting case! i wanted each zone gaurdian to be either completely replaced or missing, dedan would've been found either dead or consumed by an expanding mound of flesh that was taking over the alma plant.
and finally thats actually an interesting interpretation! i had planned for the chakra graphic to be related to finding add-ons who had run amok and were casuing mayhem. officer delta, having being taken over by the crown add-on, would be the first encounter with these addons. i had planned for the crown add-on to reappear at alma as a flying halo with your worksuit kind of hanging off the bottom for a rematch encounter. loosely in the grand schame of things, i had planned for each addon to end up being turned into the main characters in off after the final encounter with the jury, with the final chakra representing the player. this would sort of link into the beginning of off with offquest being this faux prequel. there was a very loosely planned out series of things, i remember i had planned for the martian apes from the secret ending to be inhabiting a derelict zone three, helping eventually transport boromir to the void where the finale would take place. other than that most everything was up in the air lol. ty for your understanding, its much appreciated

>>5840269
Damn, well we appreciate your running this quest. It's been extremely fun and kino, I'd go as far as to say it was one of the best made quests in /qst/, especially with things like end chapter mp4s and custom music.

But I do have some meta questions about the story.
What happened to the original cast of OFF? Would we of met Judge or the Batter?
What's up with the whales?
Who was going to be the main villain, if any?
And finally, what would have been the main purpose of the quest? Like, what choices would probably be made for things if we were reaching the end?

>>5840269
Noticed this too late to participate but just wanted to say I'm really impressed with what you got done before burning out. It's a shame seeing a talented creator crumble under the weight of their own ambitions but it's still nice to see all the things they managed to put out before that you know. Anyway thanks for not leaving us in the dark and I hope you have fun doing whatever it is you decide to do next.

>>5840279
Big fan of those designs, they really capture that off energy.
You mentioned doing creative works outside of this, im curious about what else you are making. Could you link or mention a social or place where you post stuff. Unless you dont want your name here of course.