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File: 1360729099002.jpg (197.95 KB, 1024x1024, roll dem bones.jpg)


Simply put the number of dice you would like to roll followed by a "d" and then add how many sides you want each die to have. Post rolling requires this in 'quotes' or [Square brackets], and nothing is needed for email rolls.

Email Field Rolling:
You can roll one set of dice from the email field
2d20 in the email field will roll 2 20 sided dice

In Post Rolling:
You can roll up to 5 sets of dice from the post field, each set of dice can contain a different number of dice and a different number of sides.
Rolls can be placed anywhere in the post, they must be put in single 'quotes' or [Square brackets]. You can roll up to 6 sets of dice total
'3d30' will roll 3 30 sided dice.
[5d10] will roll 5 10 sided dice.

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File: 1596028383145.png (1.13 MB, 1463x1702, lysander.png)

 No.743859[Reply][Last 50 Posts]

The party have concluded their business in Withick, having made an ally of Sprig, gaining a new companion in the form of the griffon Sir Gawain, and being rejoined by Aegis. However, not all is well. They have been effectively forced to flee the peaceful swamp town due to a new threat, a nefarious assassin and old enemy of Hermodur's called Gavrilo. Employed by Lysander, Gavrilo has delivered a mysterious dagger to the party, its purpose unknown.

Not all is despair, however. The party have decided on a heading after much debate; they have opted to head southeast, retracing their original journey and traveling back towards Durenwol Fen. There, they hope to strike a deal with the Beldam, a captive spirit of the swamp, and have her keep the Cuckoo's Egg safe from harm in exchange for her freedom. To do that, however, they will first need to deal with their old acquaintance Black Pudding, an adversary of the Beldam. With his current whereabouts unknown, the party have opted to follow his trail, heading to his last known whereabouts: The cursed hamlet of Larkstead, which has been plagued by a false Oneiromancer. This mysterious entity is a puppet of Lysander and Grosvenor, intended to act as a threat to distract from their true intentions…
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Aegis trades glares with him, looking down at the gryphon from her high ground, reloading as well
'1d10' homing magic, ice

Roll #1 3 = 3



"Shit," is all Hermodur has time to say before he holds up the shield to activate it's mostly-broken magic.

>Bulwark [1d10]

Roll #1 2 = 2


"Gah- almost. Everyone alright?"

"S-Shouldn't have said anything." he says, folding his ears back as he spots the grenade.


mostly clearing the tree's collapse, i briefly see stars when a splintered branch bonks my head. with a pained hiss, i shake it off and return to the others.

"Phew.. Is everypony alright? Have we sent them scattering to the wind?"


You invoke Return, but it's only partially successful. The tree starts lifting slowly before suspending in midair. A closer look reveals it's falling in slow motion; it'll be a few minutes before it's back where it just was. The grisly crushed remains of Ahab lie beneath.

You stand back up, looking around and getting your bearings. Seems the fight's over, for now.

You feel an unexpected tap on your shoulder. It's Violet. She's holding some medicinal herbs, looking a bit roughed up but in decent shape all things considered. "Here. You might want to line those wounds with these, if Zunden doesn't have time for us. …You alright?"

The griffon is no more, having been knocked out by Zunden's blast of light. Looks like it's all clear now.

You lurch backwards and throw the battered shield up to defend yourself from the explosion. A deafening BOOM rings out as the grenade goes off, with a flash of flame and magical blue smoke. Your ears ring as you recover, dizzy but otherwise unharmed. Your shield, however, is a goner. It absorbed the brunt of the explosion, getting shredded and warped into an unusable mess of steel. It's not much more than scrap now.


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 No.743587[Reply][Last 50 Posts]

Last time, on PirateQuest…

Cutlass, now awake again after her fainting spell, shared her suspicions of Kukulcan with Alder, Splendid, Prisma, Paraiba, the mooks, Make Believe and her four assassins. Her notion that Kukulcan was not who or what he claimed to be was backed up by the fact that Monty, her rumormonger snake amulet, changed his story about Kukulcan and the Watchkeepers after Kukulcan claimed that he was a god. Colobok asserted that he would leave behind one of the papers of his aura ability, Shadow Archive, to spy on Kukulcan and peer into his mind, to see if he was telling the truth. Colobok, Sparkler and Make Believe then left with the godray crystal to deliver it back to the Hidden Dagger before nightfall.

With evening upon them, and much of our crew still injured, Magoja (interning as the Thunder Serpent's surgeon) suggested that our crew ingratiate themselves with Kukulcan's. One such method, he suggested, was to challenge them to a drinking game. Nothing beats heatstroke and dehydration like alcohol, after all.

Cloud, escorted by Bent Scales of the Beesting, escorted Cloud partway to the Thunder Serpent. She broke off partway through, leaving to join the rest of the Beesting crewmates who had been spying on Kukulcan all day to get intel on him and his crew. Cloud arrived at the Dreamer's Moon just as Cutlass got several drinks deep with Cycle Kick. Alder, meanwhile, was being taught in the fishing and culinary arts by the hairless diamond dog they met earlier, the one with the compulsion for orderliness.

Cerulean continued to plumb the depths of the Skull Temple with her pets, getting as far as B5F. While her dog friends found another way around the pitfall obstacle she just cleared, she pressed onward, finding herself in a long hall, with a corridor to the west and one to the east. After going partway down the eastern corridor, she was stopped by a familiar sight: Herself, standing on the other side of what looked like some kind of translucent, watery mirror.
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Alder smiles a little, and says "Well, I am glad I am easy to talk to. But… I think you should try. At least, try and find one or two. I do not think you have to look flawless for them- you just have to be willing to lead, yes?" he asks, cocking his head to the side again.

"A-And… I am sorry for leaving you behind- I had not intended to, but that does not change that it happened all the same. But, you should not have to keep it going- you can try and find the ones you can trust, and keep them with you. Maybe it will help you hold on to some of them, yes?"



"Not really my problem," Cutlass shrugs. "Not like I tell you guys everything."


"It won't matter…" Cutlass grumbles. "Even if I do find someone, they'll always have someone else."


"But, they will have you, too." the griffon remarks, ruffling his wings and giving his puzzle box a curious look.


("If somepony is spying on your crew, isn't it your problem since you're the captain?")



"It won't be a problem," Cutlass repeats enigmatically.


"It's not enough," Cutlass says bitterly.

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 No.742473[Reply][Last 50 Posts]

The party have completed their first mission for the Spacers' Guild, being accepted as recruits for the budding organization. With the help of their new companion Chekhooves and a chipper kirin named Luv, assistant of their employer Ochi, the party have departed on their next mission: hunting down a rogue robot on a remote jungle planet…
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"Well uh, good thing we just got in some practice with bots gone bad." Vandal says with a nervous chuckle.
"I've seen far worse, at least this looks clean and like, funded. Trying to spruce up abandoned stuff is more of my shtick. Besides, I don't hate them enough to get our pay docked, yet."


Frank is still quietly brooding, but Gigi managed to coax him out of her room to come out on the job, assuring him that she wouldn't be surprised if she ended up needing his help.

Gigi nods to the trio. "That's us. Gigi. Nice to meet you. So, cutting right to the chase, any theories? Bots don't usually just go rogue like this one apparently did. Especially not for corporate espionage. Think it was a hack job or something?"


Fir frowns a little, and huffs. "Reconnaissance? That could be annoying to track down if it's got a low profile."

"Fir. Glad to be here. We've got the general rundown of the situation from the briefing, but do you have any other details we might want to know?"


She shrugged gently "Not like I know your tastes too well but I'll keep that in mind if we find an abandoned place."


She tilts her head and frowns, looking over the ramshackle state of the hull, peppered with claw marks and bullet holes. "I see. Pirates giving you grief? They've been active in this quadrant, from the reports."

"We suspect sabotage, yes. This reconnaissance unit made off with our data, and didn't fight back until provoked, upon which it began attacking anyone in sight. We'd share the information that was stolen, but it is on a need to know basis."

"A few details, yes. This WEDL unit cannot have gone too far, for one. We are in possession of this entire hectare, and have restrictive force fields around the perimeter. It is trapped in here somewhere, we just do not know where. Following its rampage suggests it is hiding somewhere on the jungle floor."

She pulls out a datapad and presses a few buttons. One of the floating platforms pulls up next to you. "This transport will bring you down to floor level. From there, you are free to explore as you will."

"The WEDL unit looks like this." She brings up a 3D model of a robot, little more than a box with a monitor on it, two pairs of tank treads for legs, and four spindly appendages ending in various tools. There is a radar dish where the head would be. Mounted on the back is some sort of repulsor mechanism. "Outfitted for all manner of exploration. Look for its tracks. They should stand out against the forest floor. If you require resources from us to help you search, we will provide whatever you need."
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 No.740659[Reply][Last 50 Posts]

Last time, on Anno Castra…

The party set out from Ironcastle with their deliveries in tow, and bore witness to the awesome destruction of the land caused by the stampede of the Dreaded Ones. All the badlands to the north, east and west had been trampled and reshaped by the passage of the Dreaded Ones who were whipped into a frenzy by the Siren Singer's call. Crags and hills had been stamped flat, low valleys uprooted and shaped again into steep crags. Heaps of rubble and corpses of trampled Dreaded Ones lay underfoot. At least now this meant a somewhat easier passage from Ironcastle to their first stop.

They headed north over the trampled badlands, and found that the Old World town had been little affected by the stampedes, even though the land surrounding it had clearly been trampled. Why the town and the fortress was spared was unknown. It was getting late in the Cycle, so they decided to stop and rest here.

By the lakeside just south of the Abandoned Fortress, they saw a Helping Hoof, an Old World tankpony robot, designed for household cleaning and defense. It had just slain a pair of Sightseers, and took up residence in the Fortress. After some deliberation, the party went to the Fortress to investigate. There, the robot ambushed Zamrud, but seemed to be asking him for directions in Old Equish. It sought to know where it was in relation to a place called "Canterlot," a term unknown to the party. They discovered that the robot had a function for learning new languages and regional dialects, and so they spent the rest of this Cycle teaching it modern Equish by providing audio samples.

Good decided to give it a "Spicy Señorita" accent. Its ultimate accent would be determined by the aggregate of the audio samples provided, so other party members still have a chance to influence it in that regard, if desired.
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"Qhapaq," He asks on their way out. "What is considered 'of age' for the Aya? How old do you consider for warriors? 16, 18?"


"Of age? It would be 18, I believe. The Feoh are a weak tribe- weak mind, weak body. They likely do such things of desperation."


"Just as it is in your Castles, technological skill varies among our people," Nina explains. "All of us bones and flesh and blood may be one Corpse, but we are not all so similar as to be all of one mind. Mother Aya imparted many diverse kens to us."

The bandits give you a wide berth as you leave the hospital, with Galdrar simply watching you in silence as you go. Qhapaq can sense the great bear's eyes resting on the back of his skull, not moving for a minute until you are out of eyeshot.

You follow along with La Senorita's directions as best you can, walking along the lonesome roads as they wind through a city choked by its own industry. No street is straight, no path is clear. Everywhere you go, the streets are congested, both by the cramped architecture, the factories, the warehouses, the sky-scraping apartments more dense than the poorest warrens of the Commons, and by these strange vehicles that lie all about. They resemble something between the communal, light-powered trolley-cars of the Castle, and the more traditional wooden carts used by families in the Castles. They lay about, crashed into buildings, run up into sidewalks, strewn about in great heaps all about the road, sometimes necessitating that you climb over them or go around.

They're motor vehicles.

After about an hour, you find yourselves approaching another intersection. A thick fog settles over all that is ahead of you, dense and white.

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Good remained silent for a while as she watched the others. He had made a choice regarding the others plan. He was going to accompany Qhapaq and Godspeed on their scouting journey.

One might deem his choice the lesser of two evils in his current feelings.


"Hmm. You know more of them than I did. Had we recognized them for what they were, I might have reconsidered making that deal with them, but I did not feel like making any orphans out there today on the chance the young ones were related. Though, I am in agreement with you: between their thievery, hostages, planning to sell to slavers, and forcing young and unprepared colts into positions they are not ready for, I must say I am less than impressed."

He turns back to look at the bear as they walk out. "Galdrar is the exception, however. He's strong as any four of us put together, at least. I got a good sense of his strength earlier. Hopefully this deal goes well for all parties involved, but if we do need to confront them, we should take him together."

"Right. I imagine there are many in Ironcastle who don't even know how to work Accord either. My apologies for my assumptions, Nina, that was unbecoming of me. I doubt it would be of much good to you all the way out here but, one of the Princes loves the game as well and might wish to trade."

As they head out into the sickly, industrial city, Zamrud keeps his wits about him as they look for both their bunker and for any signs of trouble in the highly packed, susceptible to ambush surroundings. As they come across the thick fog up ahead, Zamrud raises his brow, feeling a sense of dread coming from the fog
[1d10] Alleycat

"Senorita, could you elaborate a bit on those 'hazardous conditions'?"

Roll #1 3 = 3

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 No.743347[Reply][Last 50 Posts]

You have all been summoned to the sleepy town of Farmington, a majority pony village far from any sort of excitement. The word you had all gotten was that the dead were not resting quietly in the town's graveyard anymore and that a few people, mostly young, had gone missing. After arriving you are all greeted by boarded up windows and sandbag walls between the town and cemetery guarded by under-armed and untrained militia.

The mayor informs you that there have been more ponies taken, ranging in age from older adolescents to young adults. There have also been several grizzly murders done along the outskirts of town. The bodies of all the victims so far have been cremated as a precaution. She tells you that everyone here is terrified and that you should all not expect much in the way of help or support until until proof can be brought back that the threat has been taken care of. All she has to offer you is two potions of remove curse and a warning to stick together in the graveyard.

You are also given a warning to not go digging or grave robbing while seeking out the threat. According to town legend a great mage by the name of Lilly Vest lived in the a very long time ago. Supposedly she cast a spell of protection on the graveyard after a gang of diamond dog corpse thieves struck it. The most popular version of the legend says that anyone digging around in there would wake up every last corpse and bring them down atop their own head. No one here has ever tested it themselves or has the magical skill to investigate it. Rumor has it that wandering troublemakers occasionally vanish near the cemetery, and that things that go missing after strangers come through town sometimes turn up atop old graves.

After that the mayor hurried you all on your way, urging you to start your work while daylight still remains. She has a town meeting to call to reassure her people, she said, but is confident you will do just fine without her. The jumpy town militia was also quite happy to point you towards the cemetery gates, and even happier to stay behind their barricades.

The sky was already overcast and grey, but when you enter the graveyard it gets even worse. It takes your eyes time to adjust to the unnatural gloom after passing through the bone yard's iron gate. Fog fills the air and rests in a thick blanket on the ground. It swirls slowly around your legs and obscures your vision beyond a dozen meters or so. The cold, clammy air doesn't rPost too long. Click here to view the full text.
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That potions seems to be a dud.


"not good, I've got something for 'em if anything like that pops up again. You said the dusty path right?."
I curse under my breath and then use Spellbound Alchemizing to make a potion of Return to Earth.


You whip up a potion of return to earth.


"So… pathway from here? As long as we're careful, we'll be fine… probably?"


"Definitely, but I'm not going first."

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 No.703584[Reply][Last 50 Posts]

Two candles flicker on either side of a dusty old tome. The leather-bound cover creaks open and words slowly etch themselves into the paper. This old book begins to spin you a yarn. A tale of a small mountain village. A grand quest gone wrong. Self-sacrifice gone unrewarded. And, perhaps most of all, biting off a little more than you should chew.

Post Sheets
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Scorched shuddered gently as he watched the sights and odors wafting up as he prepared to drop down and try to wipe it out.


Reverie looks down for something to help assist in making the way down. [1d10]

Roll #1 8 = 8


Not having any kind of rope on hand, you take a look around. Just above the doorway you see a ladder, presumably the one they used to actually send prisoners down and retrieve them. It's pretty old, so it's pretty rickety, but maybe it could hold well enough to suit your needs. Alternatively, you remember bed-sheets and other mattress parts are in each cell. Maybe you could tie the old rags together to make something serviceable to rappel down with and still be able to climb back up.


Reverie goes back for bedsheets, trying to make haste. [1d10]

Roll #1 5 = 5


He weighs his options, then joins Reverie in doing so.

Roll #1 2 = 2

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 No.740480[Reply][Last 50 Posts]

Last time, on HolyQuest…

After recovering from their brief but dangerous confrontation with the den of toxic rats, the Saviors descended through the strange, two-dimensional labyrinth, down and down and down. They reached a torture chamber, lit by gemstones filled with demons that, by this point, must have been imprisoned for millennia. From there, they approached a chamber further to the right, but discerned, by the fact that their view was pulling out, that there was something waiting for them beyond. Instead of proceeding directly to it, they pursued a path on a slope leading diagonally upward. At its peak, they saw that, at the base of the chamber was the staircase leading downward… and so too were a pair of enormously long centipede demons, trapped in an eternal guard-dance surrounding the staircase. How they would deal with this, we shall soon discover…
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File: 1596001343225.jpg (9.5 KB, 480x360, surfing cow.jpg)

Shorthorns grunts and braces herself to the ship as she feels it knocked about, steadying it as best she can as the whirlpool almost feels to powerful to overcome.

However, as the coins are frozen and she gets the chance to pull free, she turns back to look at the golden pig demon assailing them with a new attack of fire and darkness spewing at them. Shorthorn grunts, leaping up to grab her shield and throws it at the gold, intent on using it as a surfboard so she does not touch the golden coins.

"I'll take the hit! My armor's prepared to take the heat!"
Covalent Bonds: Auto Instant; Recharge 3; Ranged; Choose an ally. All damage they would normally take this turn will be applied to you instead. The most damage you can receive from using this ability is (Full Hits) + 2 Wounds.
>Choosing to redirect the attack to Shorthorns herself, with armor that is Resistant to Fire, Darkness, and Magma. Also Guarded
[1d10+1] Riding on the shield like a surfboard to get close to it without touching the gold

Roll #1 5 + 1 = 6


>"'I just fucking cleaned this place!' the salt wyvern hollers. 'Going to have to search it for fleas again! And you!'"
>"'M-me!?' Busta gasps."
>"'Fuck off outside and drop dead!' the salt wyvern snaps. 'Letting a whole fly into my kitchen! Unbelievable!'"
>"Deriva and Volkama stop, glance at each other, then glare at the wyvern. 'Amy,' Volkama says. 'You'd better get ready to treat some injuries.'"
>"'Nobody tells our Busta to drop dead,' Deriva growls."
>"The sulfur lindwyrm goes to find some cover."

The Magatsuhi swirling around the room starts to congeal around Shorthorned, but even though it flows about her, close enough for her to even breathe, it has no effect… for now.
>results of 8 and 9, reduced by Gadriel's 6, multiplied by 5 headed for Shorthorned next turn

You're still disoriented by the spinning of the boat, but Shorthorned takes the initiative, surfing out on her shield toward where the demon is imprisoned.
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As eyes dart to the back, Shei turns to see the view as well. Immediately tilting his head and averting his eyes when he realizes it's Zjetya stripping.

He cover's Gadriel's eyes too, if he is taking a gander at the peep show.


The kid piles deeper, deeper into these bewildering prose.

He seeks if bargains by the Oath words can be made in Tartarus, between mortals and demons. And if they can be acted between demons and demons. Or if oaths are the sole privilege of aliens in this Tartarus, who do not yet belong to the same flesh as umbrals and God.


Roll #1 4 + 1 = 5


Alas, it seems that only those not bound by the tendrils of Tartarus' God can invoke either the Sacrifice, or the Oath-Words. And besides the Oath-Words and the Sacrifice, it seems that all those who have already died in Tartarus are inextricably bound by the God's will.

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 No.673155[Reply][Last 50 Posts]

>Time moves in one direction, memory in another.

Calling sheets for the 85th session of TimeQuest
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"You probably just have too much energy and power as a result of your ascension," Southern says. "Go for a jog next time, then do some stretches."

"Morning," Southern says. "We don't have watches in this era, so just guess based on how many sunrays you can see."


Bossa chuckles, "Think that's it? Just haven't put out enough energy?" She smiles, looking down at her hoof, liquid flowing over it with her new ethereal presence. "I guess that's a possibility. YOU got to use your new fancy powers all over the valley yesterday, the biggest work-out I got was working my guitar-hooves." She nods. "Alright. If that's the case, if we get into any trouble today, how about you relax and let me work out some of this frustration?"

Plasm lets out a loud, lazy yawn, looking at the window as he seems to mechanically work out the time. "That is one skill I don't have: growing up in an era without a sun you can't really use it to tell time. BUT my external clock is always reliable," he says, looking at his computer pad. "About 6:40 am." He gets up, looking towards the eggs as he licks his lips and takes one to eat. "How's the Glove coming along, Po-Yala!"

Po-Yala takes nibbles of her egg, biting it slowly as the prehistoric alchemist waves her hoof, "It go good! Woke up early morning, before sun go up, Po-Yala slept well so it be done very soon."


Southern raises an eyebrow but doesn't take the bait. She eats her breakfast, occasionally sniping off little chunks of egg from the others' plates.


The group continues enjoying their breakfast, the massive dino eggs that Po-Yala had cooked on her skillet being pretty filling all on their own, though Bossa busts out a few pieces of bread she toasts up to use to lap up the egg goo. As you snipe little bits of eggs from her plate, Bossa snarls, and swiftly returns the favor by scooping up a few items from yours. "Rude. Didn't your mother ever teach you not to play with others food?"
"No, Po-Yala mother teach her food am first come first serve. Water pony am just mad dress pony am fast eater." She says as she swiftly scarfs down hers before you can take it.

As you continue to eat your breakfast, you hear the sound of a large dragon touching down outside, Chaser having apparently left at some point last night and is now returning this morning as a small gust of wind shakes the items around the hut. The clacking of bones echoes from outside, evident of Bone's arrival as he announces himself. Plasm looks out, "Company already? We could have still been asleep."
"Maybe they smelt the eggs."


Southern frowns, going outside to see what's the matter. "If I'm not back within 30 seconds, annihilate the both of them," Southern says.

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 No.738288[Reply][Last 50 Posts]


The armored skiffs hum low over the gray, humid earth, speeding toward the Castle of Silence. An AI gunship escort follows each skiff, weapons trained on the dark horizon. Inside your skiff's cockpit, the pilot grimly triple-checks the cloaking device to ensure they have enough charge for the ride back. Knight-Brother Mountain unlocks his harness and enters the ship's passenger hold, casting an apprising glare over the lot of you. You may have been hand-picked by Iron King Ischyros himself for this mission – even made to swear an oath of secrecy on pain of death – but the Knight-Brother's judgment was subject to his own insurmountable standards.

"Wake up, soldiers," Knight-Brother Mountain says. "We'll arrive within the hour. Consider it your new home; you're gonna be here a while."

Mountain flicks a button on a terminal in the center of the hold, portraying a holographic projection of a grand ziggurat, countless miles tall and wide, extending far deeper underground: Agatecastle is its official codename, but it is better known now as the Castle of Silence. Once home to millions and millions of souls of every race and walk of life, it is now nothing but a grave.

"For reasons unknown, Agatecastle fell to the Dreaded Ones, millennia ago," Mountain begins. "Either they infiltrated before the Castle's Heart could erect its protective barrier of light, or, worse, they broke through that barrier. If it's the latter, then whatever broke through could still be out there. And they'll come for the other Castles sooner or later. Agatecastle exists on no official records anywhere in any of the nine remaining Castles, so we have little to go on. All we know now is that the place is crawling top to bottom with Dreaded Ones.

"Your primary mission is to discover why the so-called Castle of Silence fell. Data chips, paper records, get whatever you can find that points to something concrete, something we can kill. As for your secondary mission: As you know, every Castle has a self-destruct mechanism, known as the Sword of the Five Gods, located on Layer Zero. It can only be operated by the keys and authorization codes held by the Castle's royal family. These should be located somewhere Post too long. Click here to view the full text.
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"Lol sure," Deadweight messages back. She brings up Xu on Concord and messages her, "Heyyyyyyy how's my best kirin friend doin," without proper punctuation.



Roll #1 7 = 7


You get an error message informing you that your intended recipient is out of range. Magicomps have a limited range when they are not on Castle intranet, in order to protect against Dreaded Ones capable of altering or even creating electronic signals and falsifying authentication keys.

Green looks hungrily at the capsules offered, and scoops them into his pocket. "S-sure, alright."
Huitlapan nods, leading Cautaa, Green and Conflagration to the male's locker room. Once there, Green cooperates, nervously taking off the many layers that he's thrown on to protect against the severe chill. Huitlapan gingerly looks over him, picking off imaginary bits of lice to keep up the charade.

It's when Huitlapan gets to Green's head, that he freezes, eyes widening.

Upon the back of Green's head is a faded red mark, not made of any ink or paint that you can tell – it seems almost as if it were his natural feather color in that spot. But is assuredly unnatural. Even in its faded state, it emits a malevolent energy that the magic-sensitive party members can feel with little effort, creating a chill that permeates even your insulated suits.



To clarify this part:

The ramps connecting the Castles to the Outlands are on the fifth Floor of each Castle's Eighth Layer – the Ramparts. The way I wrote it implied that each Layer's fifth Floor had a ramp connecting to the Outlands. This is not the case. Officially, there are no other connections between the Castle and the Outlands, besides the ramps on the fifth Floor of the Eighth Layer.


"Aw, right, damn," Deadweight says, seeing the error message.

When she sees that the footage is done transferring to her data chip, she swipes the data chip and puts it away, breathing a sigh of relief.

Seeing Huitlapan take Cautaa, Green, and Conflagration away, she messages the group. "Try not to kill him or anything. We can still get information out of him. Stay on his good side as long as you can."

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