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You are 999, a bobby mass of joy and happiness for all! And you have a really bad feeling about this.

Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=999+Quest
Stats: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1hpqnngsKkabt5aRreo8vj4LiQNGDwSBO7vmM4Q808G8/

Due to last thread abruptly archiving, we'll just have an early continuation with this one instead of waiting on the upcoming week.
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>>4044102
>>4046294
>Go in the direction of the fire.
You and your companions decide to forsake the more sane plan of simply turning back and looking for a much better wolf-pack and instead you choose to follow the large spot of fire far out.

Everything about this screams bad idea, and Purple seems particularly unsure about this, but you insist upon it. What's the worst that could happen, right?

As you approach however, you start to notice an oddity. Sure, the flame seems to be growing larger and more clear as you approach, but it doesn't really look like you're getting any closer to it. It is at this point that you look beneath your feet to find that you're no longer trodding on corrupted soil or twisting vines. But instead, odd crystalline rock lines the ground all around you.

Looking around further, you can see that it stretches out in almost all directions, defying the natural limitations of the woodland, with even the trees becoming oddly glossy and reflective.

Blackwood remarks that this seems of some kind of foul sorcery and you can't help but agree.

>Observant (F++)

You continue to march along towards the large flame, which seems to have shot up to n even more considerable size than you'd have normally suspected. It's at this point that you realize whatever spacial distortion that's afflicted this place has twisted even your perceptions of the fire's true size.

Before you, instead of some mere bonfire, is a MASSIVE pillar of roaring flames, rising out of the woods and twisting and turning high into the air. At the foot of the flame-pillar, figures stand, raising their heads up as if in reverence.

You make to step closer, but Purple grabs you with an arm and pulls you back. You look at him questioningly, before he points to the air above you, which you quickly follow.

Above you, and situated around the pillar almost haphazardly, are dozens of glowing symbols. A few you almost recognize, being vaguely similar to the scrawl you saw some Foundationers using, as you trace the outline of their magical signatures into your mind. All burn with a fiery orange glow.

>A new trait has attained realization within you [Basic Wards] (F): You have very, very basic understanding of warding and what goes into it. Not enough to do anything, but still handy knowledge to have.

Far as you can tell, you aren't walking right on in anytime soon.
>>
>>4049346
Ask Purple if there's any way to disable or remove the wards. He probably knows something.
>>
>>4049804
>Ask Purple if there's any way to disable or remove the wards. He probably knows something.
"[I COULD try taking down the wards, but just judging by what I've seen of them so far, it would be an intensive process.]" Purple explains. "[They're deeply entrenched, and for how haphazard they're arranged, they definitely didn't skimp out in terms of power. On my own, it would take me an hour to take them down, and it wouldn't be a subtle process. They'd figure out we're here the moment I start.]"

Blackwood suggests he could aid in taking down the ward-structure, which Purple states would cut the overall work time down by a very considerable amount, but it would still ring out for any entity with even the bare minimum of spiritual awareness to pick up on.

"It will be fine, my lad." Blackwood consoles Purple before turning to you. "I trust you will be there to defend us when things start to grow unpleasant, my boy?"
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>>4050399
>"I trust you will be there to defend us when things start to grow unpleasant, my boy?"

"Yes. You two work on removing the wards, the rest of us will fight off anything that comes after you."
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>>4050410
>Yes. You two work on removing the wards, the rest of us will fight off anything that comes after you."
They both nod to you, before Purple begins to speak in what you're PRETTY sure isn't a language you've ever heard of, words of power crackling against the harsh outer barrier of the initial wards, Balckwood lending his support as the shell of fiery symbols seems to almost break and dissipate into the cool air.

Almsot immediately, you notice the heads of those strange figures turn to you as the first layer of wards goes down. Guess you should have expected the local wolf-pack to be quite knowledgeable on warding.

One figure points in your direction, and before you know it, several swarming skittering *things* are twisting out of glowing fiery gaps in reality and are presently attempting to eat you alive.

"Kill! Kill!" they chant, their madness clear for all to see. Though in the case of the one now trying to gobble up your sword, the mad chant is muffled a fair bit, sparing you from hearing it from such an angle as you try to shake it off.

>Roll a 2d100 for grappling
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Rolled 40, 11 = 51 (2d100)

>>4051353
>>
Rolled 34, 98 = 132 (2d100)

>>4051353
>>
Rolled 11, 42 = 53 (2d100)

>>4051353
>>
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>>4051675
>>4051725
>>4051754
132. Well, this is a conundrum. Writing.
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>>4051353
You smash the disgusting bug-thing off the side of your sword, before whipping around and piercing through another trying to move up behind you. Bolts of raw purifying fire, dance across your body as youcswiftly move out of the way of another chattering set of mandible.

Blue and Red aren't doing quite as well as you are, you can tell, as the insectoid creatures attempt to swarm over and cover them, and are only barely fought of by them combining their strengths. Blue covering himself in his gauntlets which almost wrap around his sword to give it a sickly pale glow as he strikes, and Red smashing anything that strays too close and skitters on too many legs. But it's still an uphill fight.

"[First layer of wards down. Beginning the second.]"

Purple suddenly announces, even as you *feel* the abrupt end of the wards, the sound as they fade and disperse akin to cracking glass.

The figures in the distance gesture again, and from the ground arise sickly wisps of smokey vapor, that quickly garb themselves in a cloak of jagged glistening rocks and ash, crude golden constructs whose faceless dosages manage to radiate malignance all on their own.

So it comes as so surprise when one tries to stab you through the head.
>>
Well, if this one doesn't pan out either, I'll just try again. Wouldnt be the first time real life issues have gotten in the way of the quest.
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>>4053706
>>4059067
I can't think of anything to be honest. Can we have some prompts?
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>>4053706
>>4059304
>It's coming in fast. Catch and hold the attack eith your sword! [GUARD]
>Evade it. Can't hit you if you're constantly moving! [DIVISION]
>Counterattack with a Snow-Storm before it can land a blow. [STRIKE]
>Knock it back with a purifying blast. [STRIKE]
>>
>>4059870
>>Counterattack with a Snow-Storm before it can land a blow. [STRIKE]
>>
>>4059870
ICE
>>
>>4060482
>>4061009
Roll me a 3d100 if you would.
>>
Rolled 61, 33, 8 = 102 (3d100)

>>4061612
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>>4061637
102. Good enough for this one, you'd say. Writing.
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>>4060482
>>4061009
>Counterattack with a Snow-Storm before it can land a blow. [STRIKE]
You swiftly channel your energy, condensing it around you before unleashing a blast of raw purifying force at the attacker, Dream Trinket pulsating with the force of the strike as it unfolds and tears into the alien entity, its body collapsing into shards and chunks from the frigid force, an unearthly howl following its destruction.

>Snow-Storm (E+++)

The other twisted constructs roar with their own hatred, swinging and swiping with jagged blades and twisted armaments jutting out from crystalline bodies. Two of them meet Blue halfway, their limbs caught on the edge of his blade as they try to push him aside. Red and Spanko strike at three others, whose bodies unnaturally contort around their attacks. Though not before Spanko buries an axe into the chest of a rising fourth entity, having aimed at one of the three as it was attempting to contort around his strike.

2295 hangs back, dodging around quick jabs from the macabre golems. One in particular seeming quite eager to impale him on its sharp edges.

"[Second layer of wards almost taken care of...]"

You need to do something to take these things out. And fast.

>Go cover for Blue. Two of them shouldn't be so hard. [GUARD]
>Combine your efforts with Red and Spanko for a stronger attack. [STRIKE]
>Chains of Harrow the nearest entity! [STRIKE]
>Help out 2295. [GUARD]
>Something else? (Write-In)
>>
>>4062017
>>Combine your efforts with Red and Spanko for a stronger attack. [STRIKE]
>>
>>4062179
>Combine your efforts with Red and Spanko for a stronger attack. [STRIKE]
You push yourself forward, slamming into one of the three entities closing in around Red and Spanko, sending it toppling over.

You and Red trade a look, nodding to each other as Spanko flies overhead and angrily cacks at the constructs. Purifying fire dances over your bodies just as one of the monsters decides to charge at you, arms shifting into bladed claws as it moves.

Just as its about to make contact, the three of you veer out of its path causing it to whizz by, right before Red levers his Warhammer into its chest, cracking apart the crystal and rock making it up and sending it flying off the ground slightly. Not long after, Spanko chains his own attack with his axe, swiping it down in his absurdly strong and dexterous talons, sending the thing smashing and bouncing across the floor.

'Now.'

You push off the ground, bending your amorphous form around a lashing blind limb, reforming yourself right in the air in front of the creature.

You twist yourself, using your sword as an anchorage point, channeling streams of energy into it and directing it straight into the tip of the blade. Energy crackles along its edges even as you thrust it forward, bringing all that power to bear.

The chest of the abomination collapses almost instantly upon impact, sending it skidding backwards, broken and steaming as it slams into another couple entities, toppling and crushing them under the force of the blow. It even knocks over the one that was hounding 2295 with the angle you had lined it up in.

"[Second layer of wards down.]" Purple announces then, as more of the fiery wards begin to break away, losing cohesion and power before shattering with the echo of broken glass.

The World distorts once, then twice, and you watch as the far-off perspective of the flaming pillar you once had shortens. Instead, you're situated right in front of it, separated from it only by three giant blazing wards that hurt you to look directly at.

Around you, the remaining crystal golems collapse with a hissing cry, their essence dispersing into pure nothingness. Dozens of figures stand at the foot of the pillar, glaring at you ruefully, eyes full of hatred and spite.
>>
>>4064066
Do a combined song of fury before the figures can reach us.
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>>4064212
Roll a 2d100.
>>
Rolled 31, 27 = 58 (2d100)

>>4065347
>>4064066
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Rolled 50, 48 = 98 (2d100)

>>4065347
>>
Rolled 47, 21 = 68 (2d100)

>>4065347
>>
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>>4065952
>>4066165
>>4066175
>all ending in 8
Hmm. Either way, 98. Ouch. Writing.
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>>4064212
>Do a combined song of fury before the figures can reach us.
Energy ripples and dances across your form, power flowing into your Dream Trinket as the figure begin to advance. You see Blue, Red, and Purple doing much the same.

With a growl, one figure, a large bulky male, reaches out with a hand, only to have a sudden burst from a rifle force him to draw it back with an loud yelp.

"That's quite enough from you, lad." Blackwood states, holding up a modified rifle quite casually. "I'd much prefer we talk this out, but that seems unlikely as it stands."

The other members of what's looking to be an obvious cult growl, and the man who was shoot looks up with a snarl and venom in his eyes. He leaps at you, hands turning into outstretched claws as he roars.

The energy in you pulses once, then twice. And finally it races out from your body, moving along at the same speed as your counterparts' own.

https://youtube.com/watch?v=3rpssjdQRSI

It ballasts into the man, whose body seems to have shifted slightly. Bigger, hairier. His hands almost looking like claws.

The blast sends him flying to the ground, but that just spurs the other members of his group to try and attack. Over a dozen brutally muscled and murderous looking individuals have their eyes land on you, before beginning their charge with a combined howling cry.

You're *really* not liking how this search for werewolves has been going.

>...Maybe you can try and defuse this without a lot of bloodshed?
>Time for talk is over. Strike now!
>Write-In
>>
>>4067213
>>...Maybe you can try and defuse this without a lot of bloodshed?
>>
Rolled 89, 52, 89 = 230 (3d100)

>>4067935
Roll me a 3d100 for trying to talk them down.
>>
Rolled 54, 24, 38 = 116 (3d100)

>>4068640
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>>4068728
116 vs 230. Alright, let's see how this goes.
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>>4067935
>...Maybe you can try and defuse this without a lot of bloodshed?
"[Blorble, blorble-blorble?]" You try to talk down the obviously generated and likely unhinged werewolves. After all, everyone deserves a second chance. You do note that Blue and Red stare at you incredulously, but you don't care.

>Fearless (B+++)
>Lucky Soul (F+)

The wolves don't stop their charge however, and you have to lean back to avoid a large claw swip aimed for your head, sliding your body across the floor. Well, that's rude.

"[Orange, I'm gonna level with ya. The time for talking with these nutjobs is long gone.]" Blue states flatly, already guarding himself with his gauntlets as an overly muscled female tries her very best to break him.

Red has moved over to 2295, guarding him as he levels his Warhammer and swings it dead centre into a man's chest, causing an audible crack of ribs as the male goes flying back towards the pillar, his body falling into the flames which quickly consume him. They fail to drown out his echoing screams however.

Two more werewolves cover the sides, Spanko flying overhead and zipping around them, slicing and pecking as he does. It's only when a quick swipe of a hand passes through the air that he falls to the ground, skidding across the jagged rocks. One of the men pausing only to grin as he walks over to where your friend fell.

You slip by another attempted claw attack, and instead push the mad shifters away. One in the back starts making weird lyrical noises that twist the air about them. That's definitely not good, but can you really prioritize that right now?

>Go help Spanko
>Deal with the spellcaster
>>
>>4070102
>>Go help Spanko
Use our healing magic on him if possible.
>>
Rolled 86, 68, 89 = 243 (3d100)

>>4070183
Roll a 3d100.
>>
Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>4071710
>>
Rolled 46, 50 = 96 (2d100)

>>4071710
Meant to do 3, here's 2 more.
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>>4072213
>>4072216
Combining both, so it's 163 total. Barely passable as is. Writing.
>>
>>4070183
>Go help Spanko
>Use our healing magic on him if possible.
You decide to ignore the magic-caster for now. Whilst a genuine threat, you decide that Spanko's life is worth far more than merely taking out the enemy.

>Selfless (A+)
>Fearless (B+++)

And with faith in your friends, you're sure they'll make it through whatever's coming next.

You shift your weight, and THROW yourself through the air, racing towards the place where Spanko fell and the insane lycanthrope-cultist seeming all too eager to stomp all over him.

You smash yourself into the back of the offender, knocking him off-balance and sending him toppling over. When he falls to the ground and shifts onto all forms, snapping his head towards you whilst growling and snarling, you charge up a sphere of purifying fire in a limb, balling it up like a fist, and smash him in the nose, sending him yelping backwards.

You look over to Spanko and try to assess the damage. You grimace slightly.

A large unsightly set of claw marks swipe across the bird's stomach portion, dripping crimson fluid all over. It's a wonder he's still alive with how deep the wounds look.

You reach out a limb, purifying energy falling down like motes of snow or dew across your friend's body, soaking into his wounds and slowly but surely stitching them back together.

>A new skill has attained realization within you. Gained [Healing] (D+): The mystical art of healing and rejuvenation is something fairly familiar to you, though you've never found a more 'practical' purpose for it until recently. Still, basic knowledge of how to fix unseemly damage is a positive. Beats the hospital, that's for sure.

Behind you, you *feel* the force of the magic from the spell-caster go off, the air saturated with something thick and dark and slimy. Turning, you're soon met with several grossly oversized wolves glaring into your soul. And soon, they chorus into a howl before pushing themselves into a charge.

Maybe you can...

>Meet them head-on with a Snow-Storm
>Chains of Harrow
>Try to cast something using the Nameless Book
> Put as much power as you can into a Voice of Pain
>Something else (Write-In)
>>
>>4073058
Chain them togheter in one big lump with chains of harrow
>>
>>4073058
>>4073381
Support.
>>
Rolled 17, 17, 58 = 92 (3d100)

>>4073381
>>4073649
Roll a 3d100 for chaining the Urshul together.
>>
Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>4074460
>>
Rolled 4, 4 = 8 (2d100)

>>4074460
meant to do 3d100 again
>>
>>4074517
>>4074523
16. Worst roll ever.
>>
>>4074517
>>4074523
>>4075087
16. Gigantic oof. Writing.
>>
>>4073381
>>4073649
>Chain them togheter in one big lump with chains of harrow
You push yourself, channeling power straight from the center of your body, before several chains suddenly whizz into existence. They snake around the bodies of the giant wolves, trying to hold them together and push them into one lump. But things don't go as planned.

You watch as one of the wolves clamps its jaws down on your chains, applying force. The others start to follow suit, digging deeper into the normally nigh-unbreakable solidified purifying power. You can hear thrm starting to buckle and strain.

"[Um, Orange?]"

With a loud 'SNAP', you can only watch as your chains break apart under the strain of lupine fangs, giving way and dissolving to nothingness in short order. The wolves stand and raise their heads in a brutal howl. You and your compatriots tense up, as your opponents start to resume their glaring and snarling when their victorious cries die down.

"[Final set of wards almost down. Hold on for just a little longer...]"

You hear Purple call out to you, his voice sounding under a fair bit of duress. You want to be happy about hat, but there's just one problem.

The wolves ALSO heard his words of warning. And they're not happy judging by the hunched over rage-filled manner they stand across from you,eyes almost glowing red with hate.

Then they charge, mouths open in brutal howling cries as spittle flies from snapping jaws.

You could really, really use a better plan here.
>>
>>4077140
>conjure up a blizzard
>others go airborne and attack from above sending them slipping away from us
Good old battlefield control
>>
Rolled 15, 59, 47 = 121 (3d100)

>>
Rolled 36, 77, 72 = 185 (3d100)

>>4077140
>>4077312
Support
>>
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>>4077312
>>4077316
>>4077394
185. Huh, you might actually turn this around. Writing when I'm fully awake to do so.
>>
>>4077312
>conjure up a blizzard
>others go airborne and attack from above sending them slipping away from us
You decide to go for a tried and true tactic.

You push yourself up a little bit, channeling purifying energy into yourself to bolster your abilities, And then you PUSH outwards, flaring your power about yourself. And as expected, a wave of chilling air twists into being about you, swirling and roaring as the wolves seem almost surprised at what you've just done.

"[Blorble!]" You physically and mentally shout the command to your friends, calling them to take off. Nodding to you, Blue, Red, and Spanko (with 2295 in tow) take off into the air, Blue and Red shifting into large birds to facilitate their own flight.

Soon enough, you're watching blasts of energy and sonic cacks send the direwolves skidding and sliding across the frigid ground, yipping and yelping as the skid across the newly frozen ground. You can only smile to yourself at a plan gone well.

>Gained realized trait [Tactician] (D): You act the part of a coordinator and planner when the need calls for it. You're certainly not the best, but hey, at least you're trying! What's everybody else doing, huh?

Just as it seems like the wolves are about to regain their bearings for another attempt though, you see them all go stock-still, claws still chattering against the wet and cold ground. A loud cracking noise echoes through the air.

"[Final ward layer...disabled.]"

With the statement being said for all to hear, the floodgates come crashing down, and the largest and most glaring set of wards, three hateful aigils, let loose a final roaring cry of defiance before they finally cease to be, crashing and fading away with the sound of a thousand glass-shards falling.

Now, the flame pillar is roaring and raging right in front of you. So fierce are its flames that Blackwood and Purple need to immediately jump away to avoid being consumed. You catch Purple and hold him steady, even as he takes several deep breaths as he tries to regain his composure.

The wolves you were fighting run up to the very base of the raging flame-pillar, and prostrate themselves before it, laying their bodies flat and their heads low against their paws. The flames shift and twist, and hateful whispers rise from it.

"My Claws...You have failed me..." the flames whisper, all the many voices coming together into one. The wolves whimper.

"You have failed. And yet, you have brought me the greatest gift of all." The whispering voice almost seems to chuckle.

Suddenly, you feel the flames reach forward. As if a great and terrible hand is rising up out of the fire and the abyss to crush you in its grip. It reaches forward, fire and metal and hate.

It reaches for You.

>Final roll. Roll a 3d100
>>
Rolled 6, 91, 44 = 141 (3d100)

>>4079992
>>
Rolled 41, 69, 74 = 184 (3d100)

>>4079992
>>
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>>4080045
>>4080446
184. You're pretty certain this is a bad touch. Writing.
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>>4079992
You push yourself out of the way as a MASSIVE hand made out of coursing flames reaches to try and snatch you up. You look over to the others, who seem similarly disturbed as *something* starts to bush and bend the flames of the pillar, emerging to tower over the werewolves that still kneel at the base of the roaring fire.

The thing that emerges is tall, and armored. So heavily armored that you're pretty sure there's just layers upon layers of metal just stacked on top of each other to form the mimicry of a form, rather than there being a proper framework of a body. Youre vaguely struck by the shape of it, heavily ornate and over-designed, a strange helemted head complete with a fanned headpiece, spikes jutting up around the shoulders and around the helmet proper. In one hand, it holds a large twisted blade with dual-ends, and the other seems to have been beaten and molded into a strange almost spherical shape, with what might be its fingers curling in around the central sphere.

The head is open, helmet doing nothing to obscure its face. Or rather, the lack thereof. Instead of their being a distinct face for it to leer down at you with, instead there is a black bottomless void that stinks of smoke and ash. Flamelike patterns crawl along the bulk of it, even as black crystals that radiate a simple feeling of being purely WRONG push their way out of points along the great beasts's armor, almost random and ill-fititng in their placement.

"At last...It is as I saw."

The metal giant creaks and groans and 'looks' down at you, its voice that of a strong and dominating male.

"The future of the world to be, and I am to host the catalyst." the beast chuckles to itself, having found something funny in its words. It takes a step forward. Around you the flames crackle.

You and your friends read yourselves, bringing your weapons to bear save 2295 who clings to your side.

"Oh, do not be afraid. You are chosen." The titan of metal booms once again, voice rife with amusement. "You are to join me as one of mine own after all. For we are to being about the new world together."

"Because...I have been shown the truth. The turth of this broken world. And I know what you are..."

The metal monster leans down, bringing its head terribly close to yours.

"Oh, chosen Children of Scarlet."

-999 Quest 20/20.1 End-
>>
And that's a wrap. Thanks for sticking around this time, guys, even with all the shit going on. Feel free to ask a question or two if you want, if anyone's still here. Going to be writing something up later.



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