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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.

Post too long. Click here to view the full text.

File: 1627816437480.png (2.04 MB, 1920x1080, The Conjunction.png)

 No.756270[Reply][Last 50 Posts]

The Echoes are changed to their core.

Skylord Lysander is dead. The veil of the Cuckoo's Egg is lifted, revealing a new and altered world. The old chaos runs rampant. In a distant land, the flame of ambition is lit in a woman's heart. And somewhere, sometime, the drifters who were at the heart of it all awaken, amidst the ash and rubble of their former home.

Runes of Union hang in the sky, radiating their primordial spell. The world is unmade and remade again. Beyond the scope of the light they knew, and beyond the reach of the terror and dark, the drifters tread now, peering through the fog of the Conjunction, in search of answers…
219 posts omitted. Click reply to view.


"Seems reasonable enough," Violet nods. Marisol brings up the rear, taking in the landscape and filling in the map as you go along.

As you leave Moonhollow, there is a faint rumbling. Looking skyward, you see the clouds moving unnaturally fast. Closer glimpses reveal slender reptilian forms shifting within the clouds. The serpents are watching you.

You approach the rocky region. It is bereft of any plantlife, save for the occasional shrub or struggling sapling. The terrain is plain, consisting of dirt and stone. All around you are the stone formations you noticed, boulders for the most part, but occasionally you see what can only be described as spires. These odd formations are like huge stone spikes, towering upwards for dozens of feet, culminating in a sharp, pointed tip. You are reminded of the central hive in the Shifting Sands.

"How curious," Gawain comments as you pass the third one of these. "Do you suppose they're natural formations?"

"Not like anything I've ever seen," says Marisol. "Then again, given the circumstances, I don't think anything here is natural."

"Are we going the right way?" Violet asks uncertainly. "I think we went in a circle. I swear I've seen that boulder before."
>roll Navigation


''What if we marked the spires with something? It would help ensure we dont get lost and would be a guide for anyone traversing here in the future''
'1d10' Navi

Roll #1 7 = 7


"Probably not natural," I agree. I shudder a little as I think of the hive. Maybe I should try to get a better look. I pull out my spyglass and level it at one of the spires.

[1d10]Perception, Improvise

Roll #1 4 = 4 / Roll #2 9 = 9


"Natural? Hard to say, really… weather can do crazy things on its own, but there's plenty of supernatural stuff here that could add to that, I wager. As for the right way… I unno, lemme try guessing it out…"
>Precognition: +3 to the Navigation Roll. Crit on a 9+ [1d10+3]

Roll #1 5 + 3 = 8


"The serpents are aware of us, yet they've opted to leave us be, for now.. How curious. perhaps they really are only after the village.."

[1d10] Navigation

Roll #1 6 = 6

[Last 50 Posts]

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Pitstops. Small buildings that exist between cities all across Equestria. Often there will be rusting down autocarriages and chariots rusting around them in makeshift walls. Among many of the pony tribes these are considered neutral ground for all to gain respite from. These pitstops are centers for trade and could be the basis for many cities if they had better fortifications.

A pair of heavily armed and armored ponies have arrived at such a pitstop in the northwest, where tall buildings vie for vertical control against tall forests both dead and alive. It is midday and there are few inhabitants resting here.
52 posts omitted. Click reply to view.



Grimsley grimaces at the molerat biting at him. He stomps on its enlarged head.

>Unarmed attack with 10 grit


Tora, dismissing the rats as basically harmless, moves to just hit that big bastard with another pair of strikes.



Grimsley looks to the big diamond dog. "I suggest you run," he says in a flat tone.

>rolling to intimidate with a Charisma of 2


Roll #1 1 = 1


I also try to make the molerats flee with angry irish horse noises with a Charisma of 7


Roll #1 6 = 6


You stop the molerat's head and its skull explodes under your armored hoof.

You hit the Diamond's weapon out of his hand and break off the last of his armor, he would be dead here but.

Covered in blood of a fallen pet, the shivering Diamond Dog nods and starts digging his way back into the ground he burst from.

You stomp and snort with the correct vigor to scare off these remaining molerats who dig and burrow back into the ground as fast as they can.

It is quiet again, dark still. Ahead of you is a bridge made of old grey sandcrete with ruins of a shanty on it.

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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
518 posts and 16 image replies omitted. Click reply to view.


Sterling shakes her head, "Thou hast nothing to apologize for, I know that is not what thy words meant. I am the one who should apologize," she closes her eyes. "I did not think of just how hard it must have been to watch… unable to do anything. I could at least act, imagining how helpless thou must have felt… I can understand not wanting to ever feel like that, like thoust cannot do anything to help thy friends."

She perks up, "What say we make a different promise that fits us both? One that allows for me to act as I must, even if I must act alone in the interest of protecting our friends and country, AND sees that thou shalt always be able to protect me, and never watch with helplessness as your friends need thy help?"


"It was horrible. Since then, Steel's been helping in training me to fight so I can avoid that from happening again."

She looks up as Sterling suggestions a new promise.
"Oh? What did you have in mind?"


"Oh." Sterling says in response, a slight red glow appearing in her cheeks as she scrunches her muzzle. "Ah… I was hoping thou might have had an idea. I had a goal but, not really a 'plan'. Suggestions?" She says, offering a sheepish grin.

Twonyxia lifts her head lazily, smirking. "Well, I think I have one… think, however could a BLACKSMITH protect a KNIGHT from danger even when they're separated?"






[Last 50 Posts]

File: 1613189887564.jpg (589.99 KB, 1920x1080, 161113.jpg)

 No.752299[Reply][Last 50 Posts]



Hello user! Today's date is Tuesday, November 14th, 601 A.F.N. You have no scheduled events for today.
>Command Prompt:

/sys:(User: 0130)/Prog/Quests/Carousel/Thread 1.0



Post too long. Click here to view the full text.
369 posts and 1 image reply omitted. Click reply to view.


After a long, fruitless night of discussing plans and alternatives, you each end up asleep in various locations in Lucy's apartment. The following morning Lucy heads with you to Glam who nervously fiddles with his claws as you approach. After his long apology about misunderstandings and how he owes you a favor for trying to kill you, you head out of Thorn street for now.

Lucy hesitates as you step down into the subway station. After a moment's consideration she steps down with the rest of you, bearing only a pair of saddlebags and her katana strewn across her back. This mission was a success with Lucy coming back to Centro with you. But her knowledge of [null] and the task at hand has only really added more questions.

>Despite this, you feel like you have learned something from this tumultuous trip. +3 Karma to all party members.

After a much more uneventful return trip than the one you took out to Thorn you all find yourself back at Centro. The skies are cloudy and dull. The dogs are suspiciously absent.

Lucy speaks up. "Cute place. Not one of Cherry's safehouses I remember though. That means we have basically nothing to work with for this heist. That means not enough firepower to kick the door down and hold off security. Seems like the stealth approach is our best bet. Objections?"


He snorts with displeasure at meeting up with Glam again. "You yellow little shit. Next time, it'll be double- no, triple the pay, up front, or you can find some other goon to do your dirty work."


He takes a look around, arms folded. "None from me. I can work with stealth. Seems like the easiest way to go about it. Forget the uniforms."


I mean with enough time I can get a decent gang together of holograms to act as muscle for us."


He nods. "Once things inevitably go tits up we'll need some meat shields for sure. Can't see this going any other way than punching our way out."


>That's a total of 4 Karma, I think!
"Stealth is fine by me, yup. It'd probably be a bad idea to risk making too much noise, even if we had the gear to. Need me to try scouting ahead?"

[Last 50 Posts]

File: 1614508779158.jpg (3.78 MB, 2048x2048, TR Map Path.jpg)

 No.753511[Reply][Last 50 Posts]


Seven months ago, five drifters arrived in the far flung pocket of reality known to the outside world as the Echoes. With nothing save for their names and the clothes on their backs, they carved out a living for themselves, beginning a journey across the foreign land, gaining new allies and new enemies alike. The winds swept them across the wilds, bringing them to a forsaken desert known as the Shifting Sands, where they met someone they did not expect: a being long thought myth, known to many as Discord. Wisely opting not to free him, or retrieve the artifact he coveted, they moved on.

In Braildorn, one of the great cities built in this world, they crossed their most mortal foe of all: Lysander, a dragon of great renown and a collector of rare and magical items. They bested him, claiming his ship as their own, and were marked as his enemies forevermore. This caught the attention of an unusual couple: Dawn Chorus, a great magician, and her knight Carabas. Mortal foes of Lysander, they joined forces with the drifters, explaining the object of his desire: the Cuckoo's Egg, a harbinger of dimensional annihilation, and the very same artifact they had discovered in the Sands. Lysander wished to claim it in the name of an entity that haunts the Echoes, known only as the Oneiromancer. With the help of Cecile Grosvenor, Lady of Braildorn, these three would stop at nothing to claim the Egg for themselves.

Fate carried them across the plains, back to the fiery Shifting Sands. There, Discord was freed, and Lysander was on his way to retrieve the Egg for himself. Not only that, but he had betrayed the Oneiromancer; he rejected the entity from Outside, wanting the Egg for himself and claiming some of the Oneiromancer's powers. A great battle ensued, and Carabas was lost amidst the sands, but the Egg was wrenched from Lysander's claws, safe with the drifters, for now.

While traveling with the Egg, the party was subject to several fortunate and misfortunate adventures including the return of the Oneiromancer to the corporeal plane. The question remained of what to do with the Egg from here; after much deliberation, a plan was hatched. They would set sail for the Isle of Glass, a forsaken, beast-infested rock far removed from the rest of the Echoes. Here, they would challenge Lysander to a decisive combat, and deterPost too long. Click here to view the full text.
972 posts and 12 image replies omitted. Click reply to view.


The dragon sighs. "Tlawīli." She says in flat, unenthusiastic disappointment. "We know nothing of our captors and their strange devices. Not even their motives. Though, for some reason, they do not take you away from your cell after all this time. Why do they not desire you for their purposes?" She inquires, still lost on what to do.


[1d10] Perception

Roll #1 3 = 3


"Tlawili, huh. Mouthful, innit."

The prisoner shrugs. "Maybe they just like my hair," he quips. "Any case, it doesn't really matter. If they wanted me dead I would be by now. Best thing to do, I reckon, is sit pretty and wait for an opportunity." He leans back and folds his hands behind his head, resting his eyes. He doesn't seem very fussed about the current situation.

"Excuse me? Sir? You didn't give your name," Liliane points out. "I'm Liliane."

"Fernald," he replies without opening his eyes. "Best get comfortable, you two. Patience is the name of the game here."


Tlawīli sighs. She leans against the side of her cell with her claw to her head. She holds it in pain, the adrenaline from combat and her situation finally wearing off and leaving her with a headache. She eventually moves off of the wall, walking away from the other two and taking a moment to sit on the floor.

Her mind stirs her mounting frustrations delving into one another as her thoughts move from stressors to stressors leaving the dragoness princess nearly on the verge of tears. She takes a deep breath while feeling her scaled chest expand without constraining armor for the first time in a long while.

She is clouded with more haunting images, her dead and dying friends, the history of kingdom of Trakali falling in her future, and the imagery that has haunted her since entering the echoes. masatl.

She closes her eyes, taking a few breaths before thinking further. This spiral of fates she has suffered gives her this sensation of falling. Falling from the graces of Trakali and failing to defend it and the people she cared about. This torment from her home and this realm thrives in her. And yet, a great, inexplicable internal light shines. A younger Sunbeam would call this the light of Trakali. Tlawīli, still falling, does not.

She lets herself fall into it.

She takes a final, calming breath. She was going to pray, but stands up, figuring she already has.

"We wait then." She says solemnly.

Post too long. Click here to view the full text.


Perception [1d10]

Roll #1 10 = 10

[Last 50 Posts]

File: 1618452033498.jpg (599.23 KB, 1920x1997, 1547170014862.jpg)



Last time, in the Castle of Silence…

After whipping up a quick meal offering, the expedition team ventured out from the warehouse to approach the Necromancer, who floated languidly through the northern streets. Upon confronting him, they found him willing to engage in dialogue, whereupon he divulged that he indeed had been to the Pillars… in fact, he entered Agatecastle through the Pillars, indicating the existence of a clandestine gateway between the Pillars and the Castle itself. It was as this came up that Lost Hope accidentally divulged the existence of the Ironcastle Expedition Team, a fact which the Necromancer found quite interesting. Huitlapan panicked and tried to walk back Lost's revelation, only to be frozen solid with a blast of winter air.
46 posts omitted. Click reply to view.


"Should probably send a warning to the rest of the guys tho."


"Mm," Deadweight hums, concurring.


"We'll be back at command in no time," she says, assuaging any doubts Lost might have.


Off to VR land.





>Mogao forces himself, with a sigh, to close his Magicomp. Otherwise, he'd be clicking at it all Cycle trying to make sure the data he'd collected thus far had been saved… just in case the last few saves didn't take, for whatever reason.

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Last time, on Anno Castra…

A long discussion unfolded between our explorers and "Mendicant Rudolph," assuming that was his true name. The dissident priest who unleashed a startling manifesto about the bleak future facing Ironcastle was, after all the panic and unrest he caused, a rather unassuming figure, not particularly unusual, nor even memorable. He maintained that everything in his manifesto came to him in a startling vision, which also included the zero-day virus that he used to forcibly download the manifesto to every Magicomp in Ironcastle.

This was an impossible feat, according to the Lux Deorum, as Rudolph had no background in technology whatsoever. They completely discredited his story about receiving it all in a vision, divine or otherwise, and maintained that he had to be working with a group of fellow terrorists and malcontents who wished only to stir up chaos in Ironcastle. However, Rudolph proved that he had information he could not have possibly accessed otherwise: He knew that the party had spoken with Godspeed. Just as this seemed to lend credence to his story about visions, he uttered a still stranger thing… that events that had unfolded in Ironcastle were also unfolding in other Castles as well, from ancient historical events such as the rise of the Brotherhood of Flagellants, to the schism of the Charismatics from the Abbey, to the development of mutually intelligible languages across Castles, despite there being no methods of communication between them, and the massive distances that separated them.

Before they could question him further, the DLs furiously dismissed the party, and took them away, back to the baggage claim area of the Ramparts. Many more hours than they had perceived finally caught up with them, and they had to get a ride from Rockfall back to House Titanite.
67 posts omitted. Click reply to view.


As he explains his hobby to them, Zamrud comments, "That's quite impressive: not relying on your prestige to sell the product, and giving all profits to charity? A most worthy pursuit of your time, Lord Steel. I should like to pick myself up a similar hobby, but my studies and my time in the Outlands have yet to provide me with much free time."

He sets down to one of the workbenches, taking some of the scrap pieces out of the pile resembling rifle parts as well as a computer to get started in repairing and restoring them to their original glory, learning a few things in the process as he fixes up the items to sell later as well as seeing if there's anything he can keep for himself.

"I understand your healing factor is quite effective, but some heavier armor would go a long way as well. May as well not tax your regeneration and let armor take more hits, so that when you do need to heal, you can do so more quickly and efficiently."


"I was thinking much the same, actually, as there have been many somewhat close calls- among the things I ordered was stronger armor. I know how much it worries you that I… 'play lose', as you might say, with injury and damage due to my nature. Even if I didn't think the armor was a good idea, I'd do it to make you feel better."


"That sounds like a personal problem. What'd you do to get on their radar?"

Steel is a patient tutor and a knowledgeable one, in fact, and despite some early mistakes, you pick up on his lessons in mechanical aptitude. He seems particularly keen on helping Qhapaq. As a fellow absolute unit, it seems he knows all too well Qhapaq's struggle with fine repairs. During breaks for water and food, Lady Path comes by to help you order some supplies, while Steel sits back to tell you some of his favorite stories about his repair projects, and all the crazy things his servants come across while dumpster diving for repairable technology.

And as all of that unfolded in this warm scene deep in the security and warmth of Ironcastle…


Behold, Coppercastle.

A mountainous fortress, extending thousands of miles into the sky and into the earth. Dim radiance exudes from the metal and stone comprising its outer walls, offering it holy protection against the eternal darkness that envelops the whole of the earth – the Outlands, whose black hills overflow with the abominable Dreaded Ones, and who seek the Castles' destruction.

Coppercastle is one of the last nine Castles that remain in all the world, and is the final bulwark for the millions and millions of souls that inhabit it.

It is, as well, their home.

Some of them were born here, and others came to it, whether from another Castle, or even, as the rumors go, from elsewhere in the Outlands.

It has been just over two months since a member of Coppercastle's Abbey, a minotaur by the name of Mendicant Rudolph, disseminated an alarming manifesto about Coppercastle's future, broadcasting it to every intranet-linked device. In it, he claimed that at current projections of energy consumption, the Heart of Coppercastle would run out of what was once believed to be its limitless magical energy. Without that energy, Coppercastle's impenetrable holy light would fade, leaving it defenseless, and open to siege by the Dreaded Ones – spelling the complete and total overwhelming of all life within, with fates far worse than death in store.

Curiously, the manifesto concluded with a strange legend from the Time Long Forgotten, about an age long since past, an age when mortals lived outside of the Castles, protected by the light of two great Lamps, called "The Moon" and "The Sun." This strange turn offered a glimmer of hope to what was otherwise a warning of total collapse.

Within a few hours of the manifesto's publication, Mendicant Rudolph was arrested and brought in for questioning by direct order of the Copper Family, the royals who lead Coppercastle, and a further order came directing all subjects to erase Rudolph's "screed" and forget every one of its claims. But, it was far too late; fear was already spreading through the Castles. Authorities among the Sages and Nobles busied themselves with attempting to quell the worries before they could escalate into full-blown panic. It took a month of such efforts, but eventually, things quieted down.
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With a deafening GRRR-CHUNK of grinding metal, several sealed bulkhead doors open before them.

What awaits them, on the other end of those bulkheads, is a wave of frigid cold air, which rushes into the sealed chamber as if it were attacking the sealed doors behind them. Absolute, utter blackness is above, stretching all the way out to the farthest horizons. A faint, bitter glow clings to the rocky ground, like a sticky fog. The land beyond is lifeless as far as they can see, which isn't much considering the oppressive weight of the darkness upon. Intranet signals cut off on their magicomps, and the visors on their armorsuits start to adjust to the darkness, allowing them to see ever so slightly better with a pale neon glow.

A team of five.
Two Warriors.
Two Nobles.
And a Sage.

Commissioned by none other than the Copper King, Ozymandias the Liberator, to venture into the Outlands, following a horrendous streak of deaths among the Warrior Stratum.

But they were not there simply to pick up slack.

Their mission was the immediate apprehension of the saboteurs behind the deaths, and all their collaborators. Dead, or perhaps alive, in one piece or in many.

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 No.751376[Reply][Last 50 Posts]

Last time, on PirateQuest…

Cutlass, Alder and Cerulean went south through the jungles of Cuauhtemoc, seeking after Captain Bee Holder and her four first mates, to update them on the situation with the informant, and the investigation of Gullveig's attack. It wasn't long before they found them, as the Watchkeepers seemed to guard the southern regions of the island far more jealously than the northern ones, and Bee Holder's party were forced to turn back after surviving encounter after encounter.

Cloud aided Mallea, Thessaly and Godot in collecting medicinal plants to restock their supplies following all the intense battles that had plagued their stay on this mysterious island.

Meanwhile, aboard the Thunder Serpent, Captain Kukulcan and his own trusted inner circle raised an automaton of their own – but not one of the Watchkeepers, over whom Kukulcan supposedly had authority as a god of the island. Rather, it was Two Tons, a sapient construction purchased on the Black Market. They were not expecting any manner of intelligence from the robot, so rather than press it into indentured servitude, Kukulcan negotiated for the robot's loyalty in exchange for fair wages, living accommodations and mutual aid.
709 posts omitted. Click reply to view.


"Yep," Two Reeds says. Sounds like she's in the same boat.
Hollow and Auspicious gather their kunai and shuriken. "Now, then," Hollow says. "If you'll follow us, we'll get down to business. We've only a few hours to prepare for the assault."

The ninjador turn, and lead the way forward to their hidden camp.


As the last of the locks on the jail doors click open, Alder is tossed back as the group of prisoners fling open the doors. Two Tons' and Cloud's street performance is thrown for a loop as a group of faded figures sprint out with single-minded abandon for freedom.

The guards and townsfolk turn in shock, but there's a brief pause, as if all the figures gathered suddenly forgot what's supposed to come next.
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>First Floor: Cleared
>Second Floor: Cleared
>Third Floor: Cleared
>Fourth Floor: Cleared
>Fifth Floor: Cleared
>Sixth Floor: Cleared

The twin doors slide open, and the jeweled icons of the Sun and Moon Serpents vanish as the doors recede into the adjoining walls. Kukulcan steps over the threshold, entering a long and high corridor, wrought from stone of a deep turquoise. Watery mirrors surround him upon his left and right.

It is just like when he retrieved the jeweled icons.
The watery mirrors reflect everything.
Except for him.
There is neither a Past nor Future Kukulcan, neither to his right, nor to his left.
…perhaps it is because for gods, there is neither past nor future, but only an eternal present.
Post too long. Click here to view the full text.


>Seventh Floor: Cleared.

Some time later…
Kukulcan, dirty and bloodied, singed and sparking, walks down a dark hall, escorted by a small Watchkeeper Spider. Soon other Watchkeepers, resembling Cuauhtemoc's humble beasts, join them. All the beasts avoid walking in the center of the hall… the center, being reserved for the gods to walk.
Kukulcan, naturally, walks right down that center path.
Until he stops before a ring of giants.

The giant at the back of the ring raises his head.
Almost naught can be seen of him, the skeleton of a machine, wreathed in shadows.
As if he were a memory even the world itself had forgotten.
Yet, when Kukulcan beholds him-
There sits a duo of Vola
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Obstinance grumbles, rubbing his lower back, sore and stinging after that fall onto hard stone. Teleportation always was the most clumsy and risky means of navigating the Ribcage. With a start, he scoots away from a nearby figure - before realizing its himself, reflected back at him in the polished face of a high and curving crystal. Such crystals, in shades of deep sapphire and smoky quartz, surround him and his unlikely companion on all sides, obscuring any possible paths around them. The crystals faintly glow and pulse in secret rhythm, lit by some internal source - but before he can ponder this further, a desperate yelp draws his attention to his aforementioned companion: the griffon-shaped genie known as Stone Cold Classic. The demon repeatedly snaps his fingers, but nothing happens. He cannot float nor fly either - his magic is totally inert.

"Shit… shit!" SCC snarls. "Should've known… you! What the fuck were you think- never mind! Truce. I want a truce!"

"What a believable thing to hear from a demon." Obstinance deadpans. "Now why would-"

"Fuck! Of course you wouldn't know. Look! You and I are in grave danger here!" SCC interrupts. "We're not getting out without each other's help. No tricks! No bullshit! I swear it! Look at it this way, I could be the last demon you ever hunt if we stay here. You can't be more than like, 25, right? Is that how you want your life to end!?"

Obstinance falls silent. The demon's genuine desperation aside, he could feel it in the air - danger lurked here. As big a threat to himself as it was to the demon. What had he been thinking to wish himself sent here…?
Obstinance stoops low to shuffle under an overhanging crystal, into the tunnel beyond. "Let's be off," he grunts, deciding to keep his words curt around the genie.

With a genuine sigh of relief, the genie follows, walking with the awkward gait of one used to floating.
"I swear if we get outta this, anything you want, it's yours. No strings attached! There's gotta be an exit somewhere…"

Post too long. Click here to view the full text.


Obstinance and SCC are about halfway up the strand when it happens.
Obstinance's withers twitch as he picks up the faintest of vibrations in the air. With a gasp, Obstinance drops his hand toward SCC, just before the vibrations shred the strand between them. He catches SCC by the wrist, clutching the strand with the other hand.
"What's happening!?" SCC gasps as he clings on for dear life.
"Some kind of attack… but I sense no Aura." Obstinance answers, trying to remain calm… "Grab on to something, it's coming again!"

But Obstinance has nothing to worry about.
For the vibrations find their mark.
Indentations press themselves slowly, softly into SCC's body. Blood, vein's, muscle, and sinew rise to the surface, peering out between crushed feathers and fur, drawn out by the indentations. SSC is too deep into shock to even gasp as his body starts to vibrate away, vibrating into nothingness, as the very cells, the very molecules, vibrate apart.

Obstinance makes the mistake of looking down. The sight is nauseating, even to one such as him, after all he's seen and done. Yet he notices now the shape of the indentations.
"F-feathers?" he asks.

A gurgle escapes SCC's half-slush beak, as his body sloughs away.
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[Last 50 Posts]

File: 1607136125227.jpg (38.25 KB, 790x438, like this in the morning, ….jpg)

 No.750099[Reply][Last 50 Posts]

Things are starting to go 'bump' in the night, day, and wherever smoky pillars arise at dawn. After a tense night, as the doors and shutters creaked from outside pressure, you and your quiet town awake to a ravaged wilderness and another pillar of pitch black rising into the sky. This smoke is unlike any other, it does not dissipate, or sway to the breeze. Within the material void that rises are stars, nebulas, comets that have no similarity to that of the night. The day is quiet and most ponies have vacated this town for an extended vacation at nearby Tall Tale. The nearby pub is likely empty, as towncentre billboards won’t have anything on this, the best course of action for anyone brave enough is to meet up near this pillar of smoke conveniently located at the base of a nearby mountain
387 posts and 2 image replies omitted. Click reply to view.


"Go ahead. We trust you."


The pegasus whispers as a single ethreal claw comes back out from the tip of her hoof that she uses to draw out complex looking patterns. The end design looks like a door that poncy unicorns from Canterlot love to have. With a few more words the pattern lights up and the teary eyed mare looks at you both.
"It's ready, we'll end up at the diamond dogs' entrance to the mountain."

And with the loudest popping sound of a cork, all of you flash out of existence in this observatory and pop back into place an inch above the ground at the entrance to the mineshaft. The trees are still destroyed, there are still massive pillars of starry substance that float into the air from the hole, but it looks close to evening. Surprisingly there are still no signs of Equestrian guards despite what could be a whole day or two since this happened so close to your town.

The mare speaks up "I can't believe I did all this."


"Well, ponies tend to lose sight of things when they focus too much."
Since that starry thing is just a fancy distress beacon, I can just… pick up the source of it, right? Since we've "solved" the problem.


I pat her back again.
"I'll make sure you get a chance to make this right. What's your name?"

"Back to town, I guess? Best to not stay out here."


The pony remarks that you can't pick it up, but she dispels the beacon and slowly the last of this magical smoke rises into the sky.

"Tasia, I don't like my old name and I'm too far from my homeland for anyone to know me."

With no reason to stay here, you head back to town. Eventually an Equestrian Guard escort arrives, takes the pegasus for questioning and doles out an appropriate reward for your part in solving this mystery. Word does reach you that Tasia's sentencing involves community service, but almost none of that service is ever shown to occur in public- as tabloids have stories from time to time about the Princess scarfing cakes from all manner of exotic cultures.

Townponies do come back, but unfortunately few of them believe that you solved what looked like a massive season-wide calamity in less time than the Markers of Friendship are capable of. This is the one problem of living in Tall Tale, most stories are considered to be hoisted up on pillars of smoke.

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