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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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>Welcome back to Scavenger Quest! Sorry for the radio silence. I also realized I fucked up in the last thread in the poker game scene where the participants call Jay "Jay" instead of by his fake name "Ray". Unfortunately, the reason for this is because i'm retarded.
Old Threads: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Scavenger%20Quest
The story so far: http://pastebin.com/RzK9amLj
A note on alternate POVs: http://pastebin.com/DqRYh2Hh
The format of the quest: http://pastebin.com/HaNgv8Nn
Some key characters: http://pastebin.com/dEk1dfvn

The fish that seemed extremely interested in your baited hook decides a rock further downriver is a much greater priority, and swims away.

“Hah!” Henry says from beside you. “Gotta have a bit more patience than that, Ray.”

The two of you are sitting along a rocky riverbank in a thick forest. Sunlight streams through the canopy above. Far away, or maybe nearby, you hear shrill birdcalls. You’re out far south of Caulfield, and Henry’s ship, a cargo hauling model, is parked in a clearing nearby.

You sigh.

“So, then, “ you say. “Keep going.”

“Right,” Henry says, and returns to his story.

“Like I said, when you’re born in a mining village in the ass-end of a country on the ass-end of the
galaxy, you don’t say no when the recruiters come by. So yeah, I was a Confed for a while.”

“How’d that go?”

“Oh, it was alright, mostly. Just regular patrols, droppin’ down on some backwaters to make sure the natives weren’t killing eachother too hard. Firin’ a few warnin’ shots at the Wheel ships starin’ at us from across the way.”

“Did you fight in the war?”
Henry clears his throat, adjusting his seating. His hook bobs in the river’s current.

“Nope,” he says. “I was out before then.”

“Why’d you leave?”

“I got old, son!” He says. “Why the hell d’you think? Used my pay to start a haulin’ business.”

“How’d you end up here?”

“A story,” Henry says, training his gaze on the river. “for another time.”

You get the sense you’re not going to get much more out of the old man.

It’s been a day since you’ve arrived in the trailer park, and you’ve already been privy to some unfortunate news.

Paul Atter, the regional magistrate of the South, had declared secession from the DSC and a new “Free State of South Retale”. With that, the Confederacy got all the precedent it needs for deploying its forces. To make matters worse, the moratorium on off-planet space flight was still in effect, so it looked like you’d be stuck planetside for the near future.

You’d better focus on what’s ahead of you. Specifically, tonight’s dinner.

Roll 1d4 to give fishing another shot.
Rolled 3 (1d4)


Your hands and eyes are quick, pilot, but here, it's a test of how still you can keep them.

A couple of hours later, you're relaxing in the Wasp with a stomach filled by two specimens of fine Retalan salmon. This way, you don't have to use any of the food you've bought so far, leaving you with four days-worth of food.

The first half of today was fairly uneventful. You kept to yourself and wandered around the park. You got a good snapshot of daily life, one that continues to be accurate today: parents hang clothes to dry between spaceships while their kids kick a ball through the dirt. Men haul supplies, questionable merchants peddle questionable goods. Come just before noontime, nearly 26 hours into Retale’s 55-hour long day, Henry approached you, pointing out your newly-bought supplies and asking if you’d like to try your hand at fishing with him. You accepted, took an eight-hour nap, and off you went.

Now, you’re relaxing in the light of the late-afternoon sun.

Gold-glasses, Grey-hair, and the dark-skinned man from the game last night are huddled around a small television, watching the news. To the west, you can hear the faint sounds of village life in Caulfield. Given your supplies and your lack of funds, maybe you should head into the village and look for work? You could also try to find gainful employment in the trailer park.

What should you do?
>1) See what the gang’s watching.
>2) Head into the village and look for work.
>3) Head into the trailer park and look for work.
>4) Fuck that shit, Imma chill.
>1) See what the gang’s watching.
>2) Head into the village and look for work
What’s the good word?
You wander over to three men, staring intently at the television.
“What’s up?” You ask. “What’re you watching?”
“Feed from Gibson news,” Dark-skin says.
“Oh, it ain’t lookin’ good, Ray,” Grey-hair says. “The Confeds’re on the move.”
You muscle in between Gold-glasses and Dark-skin to get a closer look.
You see a shot of a Confederate Officer in full regalia standing next to a villager wearing a mayoral sash. The Officer is flanked by a cadre of saluting Confederate marines. The mayor gives a speech, pledging the loyalty of his village to the DSC, then shakes hands with the officer. The crowd erupts into cheers. A ticker at the bottom reads “Regan Scott on the move: Wolfshead, South Retale.”
The name “Regan Scott” is strikingly familiar to you.
“Regan Scott, huh?” You say.
“Yep, Colonel Scott,” says Gold-glasses. “Cold War hero herself.”
“What’s she doing?”
“Stirrin’ up support,” Dark-skin says. “They’ve got the Brigadier-General heading from the north towards Armstrong. Colonel’s comin’ in from the east, going through all the villages and having them do a little song and dance.”
Confederates coming from the east – of all the things this could possibly bode, well was not one of them.
“Are they gonna come through here?” You ask.
“Maybe,” says Gold-glasses.
“What are you going to do if they do?”
“Nothin’, most likely.”
The four of you turn over to the source of the new voice: Henry stands nearby with his arms crossed.
“Nothing?” You ask.
“That’s right,” he says. “If they come through here, we’ll go to their little show, shout ‘long live the DSC!’ at the top of our lungs, then go back to our business.”
What do you say?
>1) “Trailer parks are illegal, aren’t they?”
>2) Try to convince Henry to leave.
>3) Say something else <Write In>
>4) Stay quiet and listen.
>1) “Trailer parks are illegal, aren’t they?”
The obvious question.
“Trailer parks are illegal, aren’t they?”
“You think the Confederacy is gonna care?” Henry asks, “They’re dealing with a rebellion, and what they need now more than anything is loyal citizens. They’re not going to devote men and time to rounding up each and every one of us.”
“Henry’s right,” Gold-glasses says. “They’re dealing with revolutionaries right now. They don’t care if you jaywalked or hauled some illegal cargo. What they care about is that you’re not going to start bombing their villages or shooting their soldiers.”
The news program ends, and Grey-hair switches off the TV.
“Welp, better go’n hide my valuables,” he says. “Afore the Confeds get here.”
“Are they that close?” You ask.
“Wolfshead’s just a couple hours east of here,” Dark-skin says. “If they decide to stop in Caulfield, it’ll be soon.”
Confederates on the move – to arrive in a couple of hours. Given the bounty hiding in the Wasp’s storage compartment, this might not work out so well for you.
You could try to stay in town and hide in plain sight along with the rest of the trailer park. Or you could flee – leave town for the day and hide somewhere in the woods. You could also leave town permanently and seek refuge in another village. What should you do?

>1) If you act natural, they’ll have no reason to suspect you. Stay in Caulfield.
>2) Better safe than sorry. Go hide in the woods for a while.
>3) It’s time to skip town and head for greener Retalan pastures.
>2) Better safe than sorry. Go hide in the woods for a while.
Excuse is a prolonged fishing and hunting trip. Testing our gear, invite friends, etc.
>2) Better safe than sorry. Go hide in the woods for a while.
No time to waste, Pilot: your pursuers could arrive at any moment
“Well boys,” you say, “I guess I’m going on a little fishing trip. Be back tomorrow?”
Dark-skin smirks.
“Yeah, whatever Ray,” he says. “But just so you know, we don’t judge here.”
“Nobody here,” Gold-glasses says, “is here for a particularly positive reason.”
“And I was never here at all,” you say, waving goodbye and heading over to the Wasp.
You hop in, fire up the engines, and fly up. The trailer park and Caulfield shrink to ant-size, and you get a clear view of the surrounding area: fields, hills, and winding rivers all the way east, much the same up until a mountain range to the west. To the south, just beyond the horizon, was the forest where you and Henry fished earlier today.
You scan the skies for any movement, but see none: the Confederates must still be tied up in Wolfshead. You fly south.
Some fifteen minutes later you land in a small clearing, a bit down the river from your previous fishing spot. Looking up through the canopy, you see that the sun is just beginning its descent.
You grab your supplies and head down to the river. Making yourself comfortable, you try to take Henry’s words about patience to heart.
Roll 1d4+1 to fish.
>With that, I'm going to take a break to get some dinner. If you have any questions about the quest, ask and I'll answer if I can..
Rolled 4 + 1 (1d4 + 1)

Rolled 2 + 1 (1d4 + 1)

Rolled 1 (1d4)

One more fish roll, I guess.
>I return once again to your dream. I stand behind the serpent, which has grown to the north. It slithers across the floor, trapping mice between its jaws. Each mouse devoured adds strength and size to the serpent as it grows to monumental proportions. I laugh and draw my sword, pointing it at the vast black above us. Your eyes follow it, but you see nothing. You look at me, confused. While my mask betrays no emotion, I point a hand to my ear. You listen closely, and together we hear the screeching of a convocation of eagles.
Your eyes shoot open to the sound of helicopter blades.
Your first thoughts turn to confusion. You look at the bucket next to, where two freshly-caught fish flop out the brief remainder of their lives. Then, once you realize exactly what helicopter blades out here mean, your confusion turns to terror.
Confederates are flying nearby.
What’s their plan? Are they looking for you, or just passing through? You have no way to tell; you can’t even see the helicopter because of the forest’s canopy. The Wasp, however, is parked in a clearing; and would be easy to see if someone was looking for it.
You could stay where you are and hope you remain unseen, or get in the Wasp and flee. You’d definitely be able to escape from a helicopter in the Wasp, but perhaps running would be even more suspicious?
What should you do?
>1) Try your luck (roll 1d100)
>2) Get out of dodge.
Rolled 40 (1d100)

>1) Try your luck (roll 1d100)
Rolled 67 (1d100)

Here goes.
Rolled 31 (1d100)

>1) Try your luck (roll 1d100)
Eagles are known to hunt.
Contrary to your hopes, the whir of the blades doesn’t get fainter: in fact, it intensifies. The Confederates are definitely looking for someone, and someone nearby.
If they’re looking for you, how could they have found you? Nobody in the trailer park would have much of a reason to betray you; unless they were offered money… or maybe it was a villager? Any villager could spill that someone flew south just before the Confederates arrived. But what could they know? It was probably a cursory investigation; anyone fleeing prior to a Confederate arrival probably had a reason to do so.
The dim sky is lit up with the glare of a searchlight. What do you do?
>1) Make like a tree and stay still and silent. (Roll 1d90)
>2) Make like a branch and split.
>3) Make like a <Write In>
Rolled 71 (1d90)

>1) Make like a tree and stay still and silent. (Roll 1d90)
>1) Make like a tree and stay still and silent. (Roll 1d90)
Rolled 30 (1d90)

Damn it...
Rolled 29 (1d90)

>1) Make like a tree and stay still and silent. (Roll 1d90)
>Target was 70+ both times, so say thanks to this guy >>43002360
Silent as… a dead battery.

You stay as still as you can, but it really doesn’t depend on you: it all depends on how observant the Confederates are.

The helicopter blades whir to and fro, the searchlight cutting the dark of the forest. It’s a stark invasion of the artificial and the natural, the noise of machine and artificial light overpowering the stillness of these woods.

But it looks like today God, Fate, or maybe Change, is on your side. A few heartpounding minutes later and you can hear the blades steadily wane to the north. The forest is quiet again.

>Ok, I've gotta disappear for tonight to do some fucking normie shit. Hopefully this thread is still alive tomorrow so I can continue from here. Again if you have any questions feel free to ask.
Good Game
Thanks for running

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