[ art / co / ot / q / qt / v ] [ 3dpd / unf ] [ g / sic ] [ countdown / hyperindex / linkboard / quest archive / stream ] [ Hamburger Time Calendar / MLPG Beacon / Donate / Game & Mumble Servers ] [ Rules & FAQs / Credits ] [ Mod ] [ home ]

/q/ - Quest

Password (For file deletion.)

  [Go to bottom]   [Catalog]   [Return]   [Archive]

File: 1638223244379.png (4.82 MB, 2577x3350, HolyQuest - The Spiders.png)

 No.757873[View All]

At last, the final sight of all those staying upon the surface of your World is engulfed by the interminable darkness.

The Great Seal rends the earth with a deafening quake, as it slides nearly shut, open only by a hairsbreadth. The Loyal Kerberos, ten thousand Umbral Hounds strong, holds one end of Shei's Black Thread in one of his mouths. It is for that reason that the Great Seal has not been shut entirely.

Members of each faction procure a variety of small light sources to aid in grasping the shifting, unpredictable stuff that became darkness upon your perceiving it. The presence of the light, conceptually implying a "darkness that must be lit," renders more of the chaotic stuff into darkness, that is then lit. Fortunately, all that seems to be around you now is a cavern tunnel, as long as it is broad and tall.

The other factions are silent as they walk, tensely keeping weapons at the ready. As you go with them, a nauseating vertigo wells up from within. It feels like gravity's shifting to be before you, as if you were walking down a vertical surface. Although you do not fall, your bodies scream warnings at you that every step could send you hurtling into the chaos ahead, or perhaps, "below" you.
731 posts omitted. Click reply to view.


Shorthorns winces, "Well, certainly not on *ME*, right?!" She says, hoping her second guess is indeed incorrect

Shorthorns looks to the giant elephant besides them, "Well, how exactly does your fighting style work? We've all gotten to be pretty adaptable, I don't think there's anything you can do that we wouldn't be ready to work with."

She turns to Vizsla next, "I've picked up on that, but I think you stand a lot to gain from having Amy with her fellow witches. And we'll treat Supper right, I promise we'll make her feel right at home. It'll build confidence in herself, and I think an important thing for Tartarus is self-assurance, right?"


"You-.. You're exaggerating. Come now Viz, I was just drinking wine with the girl last night. Ah- And when the Ecclessians were ouncing to bribe the little lady she hadn't even flinched. She WAS considering it!!? Not to say we'd try to sway her towards our side during the swap. You saw where I stand on the topic of bribing one another. More to my point, I think Supper deserves a little more credit." Shei points and waves his pipe various directions in concert with the inflections and emoting of his voice.



Amy cocks her head at both of the objections to the trades.

"Isn't that kinda exactly why we SHOULD make those trades? How are we ever gonna be able to work together if we don't know how to work together?" she asks, looking at Rooster.

"And, how are we ever going to get along if we're all afraid of each other?" she asks, looking to Viszla and Supper.

"I know, this place is scary, we want to be at our best. But, this is just the START. It's only going to get worse from here. If we can't get along and work together, this is NEVER going to work. So, it's better to work things out now while there's less danger than realize that we needed to work it out later."

>[1d10] DC-4 regular social roll

Roll #1 10 = 10


"Hoohoohoohoohoohoohoo," an all-too-familiar voice hoots. Sir Gegenschein lightly claps as he laughs. "Well said, eloquent and simple as ever, Amy."

"Yeah, sounds good," Supper says… from behind Amy. She was not at the table until now, but now, fashionably late as is their custom, the three representatives of Mortalkind's Strongest make their arrival. Desert Lamp has a new bag of holding, which she looks very pleased with. Hurricanrana doesn't seem to have purchased anything. Supper of Crows has a new plush doll with her, which resembles a diminuitive, blonde demoness in a conspicuous blue and white dress…

…Supper also has a smoothie, which she's about to take a sip of–!


Shorthorns smile as Amy makes the most compelling argument for allowing their trade to go on through. "I agree with Amy too, trading would also make sure we know how to work with other teams and strengthen our unity"

As Supper appears from shopping, she looks on at the cute doll she seemed to purchase and was about to make a comment before she saw her drink. Shorthorns' eyes light up as she sees Supper of Crows about to take a sip from her smoothie, presumably taken from within Tartarus, and suddenly her horns glow white with magic,

>Using Spheres turn the smoothie into solid stone

Roll #1 9 = 9


"Suu-u-u-peeer!" Shei cheers as Supper shows up and it's settled she's tagging along with them.

"Cripes." Shei remarks, he slips the stone out of the plastic cup and waves it under his cape (which contains lots of different ingredients for stuff in his fridge.) Waving the cup out of his cape to produce a new smoothie.



Shei offers Supper the new smoothie he produced.

Roll #1 5 + 1 = 6



Amy smiles as she is praised. Her tail wags.


Then, Amy nearly jumps out of her skin when Flaming suddenly shouts.


Leather winces at Shorthorns shout, reflexively reaching for their shield before he actually realizes what's going on.


"Wh-wh-wh-WHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUH–" Supper gasps, freezing with shock as Shorthorned and Shei promptly mug her of her smoothie, then just as promptly return it.

"…What was wrong with the first one!?" Supper asks.

"We aren't certain yet, but it might very well have killed you," Doctor Galton says with audible disappointment.

"Vizslaaaa, you said it would be okay!" Supper whines.

"Well of course it would be okay," Vizsla says. "I'm sure our dear friends in Ecclesia would have taken proper good care of your soul. Right? But I do wonder *which* one of them would have had custody of your soul, and *which* would would raise it back to life."

"Oh, I see," Supper says, then sips her new smoothie. "I guess it would have been okay then."

"Ach!" Freischutz scoffs with contempt. "Ze talizmanz are not to be uzed vor such idiotic ploys!"

"Right, it's only okay when you do it, isn't it?" Vizsla asks.

Mudi puts her arm on Vizsla's. "Enough, let's get back to–"

"Sister…" Vizsla intones, and Mudi immediately retracts her arm, as if she had touched a patch of thorns. "…I was just messing with them, relax."

Mudi mutters something, but her face is downcast, and you cannot hear it.

"So, we're compromising the psychic integrity of our groups to do another meet-and-greet," Vizsla says. "Is that right? Well then, will there be any more moving around?"

>Now is your chance to suggest other party configurations for the NPCs


Shorthorns takes a sigh of relief as she sees the smoothie stoned before her eyes. "To be more accurate, we just heard that consuming ANYTHING from Tartarus binds you to this realm and makes you unable to leave. I don't know if killing you and bringing you back to life undoes that or not but I figured it best not to risk it."

She takes an annoyed glare up with Vizsla. "I don't think that was a very funny prank. Even if the Talismans would work to fix that, that'd be a total waste we could have avoided otherwise."



Amy hops over to Viszla and Mudi and pushes herself between them with a smile. "I look forward to working together," she says, looking from to the other with a big grin.


Shei smokes one before shooting the bird with Supper "What did you do for Mr. Moolah? I cooked him a little mochi and the umbral practically became pudding in our hooves." Shei makes chummy conversation, curious how she handled the situation.


Situation tension relaxed, Leather sets to looking at the instructions of Mudi's commission, surprised by tbe number of individuals requested.


"…Huh?" Supper gawks. "You guys had to do something for him? I dunno… Mudi just pushed me up to the front of the group and the next thing I know we were signing our lives away… or something…"


"How do you not remember–" Voyage begins.

"GOTCHA! RACIST," Rooster boasts.

"What the f–" Voyage fumes.

"That'd be me, good Sir Rooster!" Hurricanrana boasts. "Mortalkind's Strongest Demon Hunter, or so they call me. Whether I am or amn't, all I know is protecting love, freedom, and the mortal way."

"I KNEW THAT!" Rooster corrects. "I WANT TO HANG OUT WITH YOU."

"Uhh…" Hurricanrana begins, trying to work out the logistics of such a trade.

"No," Vizsla says.

"Dang," Hurricanrana concedes. "But, that's what the boss lady says, so no dice."

"I WILL REMEMBER THIS, VIZSLA," Rooster threatens.

"I would be surprised if you didn't," Vizsla says.

"RACIST!" Hurricanrana says.


"We'll join up at the next time we switch," Hurricanrana promises.

"Can we recruit him, dear?" Gegenschein asks, turning to Doctor Galton.

"Any more chaps like that in our ranks, and I'm afraid the brawn would outweigh the brains," Galton says. "You're already tipping the scales too far as it is."

Gegenschein nods. "Correct, but I am not hearing a–"

"No," Galton says.

Gegenschein sighs with disappointment. "That's what the boss lady says, so no dice…"

Fox shakes his head and shrugs. "Women."



"Oh wooooow!" Amy bemoans at Fox. "It's not enough that we have some racists among us, but now you have to add sexism to the pile? What do you have against women, hmmmmmmmmmm?"

Amy elongates the hmmmmmmm to an uncomfortable degree as she puts her arms over both Mudi's and Vizla's shoulders as if to imply that they are also insulted. Threateningly so.


"What-? nothing? Didn't have to do a thing for him?" Shei doesn't suspect her to be lieing. He gets an unexpectedly candid impression from Supper "This isn't one of those, coy with the truth repartees is it?.. I suppose these sorts of things are merely easier for girls." Shei concludes, scratching his head.


In the background of the conversation Shei can be heard chiming in briefly. "I'm actually quite proud of my racism if anyone wants to compare notes."


Shorthorns chuckles as Rooster accuses Voyage of being prejudiced. "Yeah Voyage, don't be such a racist. You're embarrassing me." She says, lightly knocking her horns into his as she looks over at Rooster.

"I promise I'll keep him in line, I know you won't regret coming over to our team for a bit. We're plenty impressive."

Shorthorns quickly jumps in along her sister. "YEAH! Got something against girls, buddy? HMMMMMMMMMM?" She says mirroring her attitude


"Aye, be wary transgressing Rooster: any slight against one of his stature is certainly a microaggression." Leather grins as he watches the groups interact.



[1d10] perception

Roll #1 7 = 7



Amy looks at Shei with the expression of a girlfriend who has just been embarassed by her boyfriend.


"Heheh… small cock…" Amy chuckles under her breath.


"Sexist!" Anzu joins in.


In an instant, Anzu has shot at Fox, but Fox has cut the bullet in two; both of their quickdraw techniques for pistol and sword were too fast to see. Even Flow seems impressed.

"I have an excuse!" Fox argues. "A girl keeps shooting at me!"

Anzu fumes with, as Amy can see, a faint blush.

Vizsla glares off into the distant, cold nothingness of the Abyss, her desire to be lost into it evident in her frigid stare.

"Alright, coffee date's over," Ichimonji says, tapping her hoof on the table to get everyone's attention. "Let's get something straight here."

"Oh," Gegenschein says. "I've got something straight alr–"

Another instantaneous strike–

Ichimonji stands adjacent to Gegenschein's chair, or what remains of it. It has been cut into seven pieces, cut down by six swords. Gegenschein, however, seems to have switched places. He now stands at the other end of the table, across from where he sat, in less than a blink of an eye.

"It's time to stop screwing around, Gegenschein," Holy Hours says.

"Quite," Ichimonji adds.

Gegenschein shrugs.

"Will there be no more arranging of teams?" Ichimonji continues. "We should not keep our oh-so-generous benefactor, or our friends and families upon the surface, waiting on account of our propensity for long-winded nonsense."


"What?… What!?" Shei says clueless about the look.


"A meeting of the minds!" Shei can be heard shouting in the background of the conversation.


Shorthorns looks on with amazement at the speed demonstrated both by the pair of Anzu and Fox, as well as Ichimonji and Gegenschein, marveling and wondering if she could ever move so quickly and with such finesse. Putting such thoughts to the side for the moment, she turns to Ichimonji and shakes her head.

"I don't think it'd be wise to shake up the teams TOO much for the sake of muddling things. Trading one member each from our squad into each of the Witches and Ecclessia I think should be good for us, just Rooster for Leather and Supper for Amy."

She makes sure to add on for Fox with a smirk. "Oh boo hoo, so she keeps shooting you. You're a man aren't you? You're supposed to be tough and take it head on!"


"-What? …What?" Leather replies almost at the same time as Shei, for very different reasons.

"Aye, let us finish sharing our meal, and then be on with our tasks."



Amy just rolls her eyes at Shei.


"Oh, come on, Vizzy! You can't be angry ALL the time!"


"Watch me," Vizsla deadpans under her breath.

"A bullet head-on!? That would kill me!" Fox says.

"Ach, I zuppoze you are Veak to Gun," Freischutz remarks.

"Well, not anymore," Living Saint Zoantharia corrects.

"Though, Anzu is still Weak to…" Ichimonji says, but stops herself. "…I am far too old for this sort of jibbering."

"I'm– I'm what?" Anzu stammers. "Weak to what, Sir Ichimonji!?"

"You're prone to wasting time," Ichimonji says.

"P-prone, you say…?" Anzu repeats, blushing worse than before.

"Ready? Break!" Doctor Galton says, finally declaring an end to this nonsense. The gathered parties rise, and Rooster gives a light oot of his trunk. The tables and chairs disappear in a puff of cartoonish smoke.



"Well, there's only one cure for a sourpuss! Adventure and accomplishment!" Amy declares in an upbeat fashion. "Now, what job did you guys sign up for?"


Shorthorns give a wide, wry smirk to Fox as he claims he would die. "When I said you should take it head on, I didn't say you had to let it hit you, exactly. But a true warrior does not complain when he is attacked, he just deals with it. And that's especially when the enemy is someone you actually really like." She says looking at Anzu.

As Galton makes a call to end all silliness, Shorthorns nods as she looks over towards Rooster and Supper, "Well, if you mean to say the lunch break's over, does that mean we should start looking for these ingredients? I figured Beelzecorp would reach out to us with instructions sooner rather than later…"


Leather rights himself before Rooster makes the seats disappear, alert enough not to stumble. "The gods bless I will not be required to wingman today, I am already bound to do so should we come across Freischutz' double."


Ichimonji preemptively splashes both Anzu and Freischutz with her waterskin before the two can get even worse.

"Each of us will be procuring an ingredient, it seems," Doctor Galton says. "And from there, Ecclesia will be taking the lead on setting the stage for the tea party. You and the Witches can delegate responsibility for entertainment and atmosphere. We have the unfortunate riddle of picking the location. Don't envy our responsibilities."

"It seems we just need to approach the Abyss," Mudi says. "And from there, each group's guides will find them."

"From anywhere we approach the Abyss?" Flow asks.

"Indeed," Mudi says. "A charming way to make Belphecorp seem omniscient."


"Setting the stage, good. I do prefer a more passive and background role in these things, far more used to watching social events from a vantage point."


"Interesting… so all we need to is basically leave the port, and Beelzecorp will set us up with what ingredient we need to get." She nods. "Alright, I love it when it's easy like that!"

"As to either entertainment or atmosphere… I don't know what we could do for entertainment. Maybe music? I haven't really been listening for anything since we got here, did anyone spot a band or, maybe a performer? I mean, I could try doing the show we did for the talent show a couple nights ago but I feel like I just couldn't do it without Zjetya."



"Let's get going, then!" Amy declares impatiently. "To the nothing!"


"Since you poached Rooster from us–" Galton says, then trails off. "… There's a joke in there somewhere. Anyway, he'll prove an invaluable musical asset, so fret not over the preparations."

Over the next few minutes, the groups review their new configurations and make their best efforts to find their new buddies, sometimes having to consult Gegenschein's crude chart to remember who goes with where. But by the end, they are arranged.

Mudi the Young
Vizsla the Kind
Amy the etc. etc.
Desert Lamp


Holy Hours
Living Saint Zoantharia
Leather Cloak

Supper of Crows

After some final checks to make sure no belongings have been forgotten or left aside, the groups nod, and split their separate ways, to find any way to reach the edge of the Abyss.


Shei-Sher is found inappropriately tilting his head up to gawk at Rooster's incredible stature. This lasting likely until Rooster has anything to say about it.


Before she splits off, Shorthorns makes sure to grab Amy. "Hey…" she says, her voice a little hushed. "Be careful, alright? Especially around Viz… you know which one." She says, stopping herself to avoid the name rule. "We'll catch up soon!"

Shorthorns offers a hug to Leather as well, "You I'm less worried about, I know these are your ponies anyhow. But keep safe, alright? I don't want to have to tell Pryce anything bad happened."

Shorthorns nods and waves off to each of the other groups as they make their split finalized, turning to look up at Rooster as they comment on him being a musical whiz. "Well, that's a relief. Now we just need to find you some band-mates… Shei's been practicing with his guitar, so that's another one. Me though, I don't think I have a good instrument… and I don't sing all that good either…"



"Don't worry," Amy says patting her on the head. "It'll be fine!"


Amy bounces with anticipation, ready to please her new allies.


Leather returns the hug in kind, speaking quietly to Shorthorns, "Truth be told, miss Shorthorns, I am safer among them then I am among you. It will be very difficult for any harm to come to me. May your travels be just as safe."


Rooster promptly steps on you, crushing you flat. When he moves his foot, your form accordions up and down for a few moments, before returning to normal. Miraculously, or magically, no damage has befallen you for this brief transformation.

"Let's be off, then," Mudi says, and leads the way away from the hourglass-shaped fountain. "Amy, if I may ask, how have you found your return to Tartarus thus far?"
Vizsla silently fumes, while Hurricanrana and Desert chit-chat in the background.

"The time is upon us, Hypostasus," Holy Hours says. He offers a curt nod to Shorthorned, but there is no impatience in it– rather, a subtle apology for his insistence on ending this moment.

Flow, Voyage and Rooster await your departure. Supper meanwhile sips her smoothie, making the most obnoxious sounds as she drinks the last of her smoothie.



"So far, this area is better than I remember. I guess the Vistal really IS doing a good job. Is it what you expected?"


Shorthorns smiles and waves to the others as they continue to split off into the new groups. "Keep in touch! We'll all meet up before the tea party, alright?!"

With the goodbyes out of the way, she turns to look at Flow, Voyage, Rooster and Shei as she stomps her hoof. "Well, let's not waste anymore time. We have 'shopping' to do!" She says, before proceeding to march forth towards the docks to head into the Abyss. She turns to look at Supper as she sucks down her smoothie, putting the annoying sound out of her mind for a bit to begin making good relations with her new teammate. "Hey, sorry about your other smoothie earlier. Just didn't want to have to take any risks, you know? How's that new one?"


Shei hugs Amy one last time, doting on her as they about to go their seperate ways "Now do you have everything you need. Did you pack your toothbrush? Do you have enough snacks. I can give you more- Do you need more?" Shei beings fixing her mane as it's frizzy "By gaul, your mane is a mess." He licks his hoof and begins brushing it.

Shei-Sher expands a couple times, making accordion sounds "They say the best music comes from traumatic circumstances." Shei says in appreciation for the unique flavor of pain bestowed upon him.

After pulling himself together Shei stands by the side of his newly configured party members. Putting away his smoking set, and sling his guitar infront of himself by it's strap. He strums it for a sound check.

"Let's get the show on the road before my high wears off."



"I'm FINE," Amy objects with an amused laugh as she swats Shei's hooves away. "It won't be long. I'll see you soon. Don't do anything stupid until then."

She gives him a wink and then a kiss. Then, they part ways.



"Were it any but you, good Sir Hol-," Leather cuts himself short, reminded of the the danger of saying names and wanting to practice restraint, "-my Chorister, I would expound the virtues of patience. But it is your word, and so I follow."

Leather nods back to Shorthorn's wave, offering no more commentary.


Shei-Sher's presents you a boxed lunch with cartoon dogs painted on the lunch pale. "I prepared you a lunch." Shei says meekly, still trying to overcome the preamble to separation anxiety.



"You're the best, I'm sure I'll love it," Amy says, giving him one last hug.


Fittingly, the groups split into different directions, wandering to the degree that they can for a suitable exit point from the Hanging Port. For a place named so, it is surprisingly difficult to leave it, you find. Even fliers and those skilled in long and high jumping find themselves tossed and turned by unwelcome gravitational pulls, which threatens to turn your departures into nauseating and potentially disastrous castaways into the Abyss without a guide. With that in mind, people quickly learn to stay on the ground, and walk for the remainder of the exit.

Soon enough, however, with enough reliable walking towards dark horizons, you reach them: Edges. Like seaside cliffs, they extend outward for a distance, before just dropping off. As you gather near to the edges, you hear sounds like something burning in reverse, behind you.

Each group, regardless of its members or its location, has found itself confronted by a rather peculiar individual. Each of them is worryingly tall. White shirt, black tie, shoulder-padded suit jacket, stubby legs with trousers and pointy, shiny shoes. Yet beneath the clothes, and puffing out of the openings in the shirt and jacket, is paper. Receipt paper, printer paper, newspaper; wadded, shredded, stained by ink and other, more mysterious liquids. Their forms are unevenly bulky and emaciated, lumpy and smooth. Your minds find themselves compelled to imagine grotesque faces out of the corners and angles of their jumbled-up heads. You can't tell if they're armed, but none of your allies even think to let down their guard around them.

The figures are silent, but each whips out a business card and presents it with a professional bow. "Belphecorp Certified Paper Trail," it reads.

Below that, you note a "Contact info" section. There is no conch code or mailing address there, but an obscene paragraph of text you don't recognize. Perhaps instructions for scrying, or summoning.

Shortly after presenting the card, each Paper Trail puts it away, not letting you keep it. It steps out towards the Abyss, and with experienced dexterity and balance, walks out into the darkness with no difficulty.

Silent and resolute, you step out into the darkness, following them, and leave behind the Hanging Port.

One group is played out by a soloist goat on a guitar. In short order, after having listened to the melody, a trumpeter elephant joins him.




Somewhere, far, far away, adrift on an island in Paradise…

A heap that was once called a King lies imprisoned, weighed down by thousands upon thousands of chains. His bondage is blinding, for each is wrought of pure sunlight – and of moonlight.

Yet, he tilts his head in curiosity, heedless of the onerous weight. He listens, and hears, and senses… the faintest of stirrings. The faint pressure of a soul, so impossibly distant…

The soul of a spider.

"You… again?" asks Tirek.

[View All] (731 posts omitted)
[Go to top] [Catalog] [Return][Post a Reply]
Delete Post [ ]
[ art / co / ot / q / qt / v ] [ 3dpd / unf ] [ g / sic ] [ countdown / hyperindex / linkboard / quest archive / stream ] [ Hamburger Time Calendar / MLPG Beacon / Donate / Game & Mumble Servers ] [ Rules & FAQs / Credits ] [ Mod ] [ home ]