Welcome to Prophet Quest, the game where you get to be a religious prophet, travelling the world...
The Savior of the Outback: A post-apocalyptic Prophet Quest
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Starting Post
Welcome to Prophet Quest, the game where you get to be a religious prophet, travelling the world to deliver your message, whatever that might be. This game will be pretty sandboxy (barring the commmands of your god(s) of course), I'll have to insist that your prophet be a decent Human being. No Cthulhu-summoning prophet.
But before we start, it's time for character and world generation:
When and where will this game take place?
[] Generic Fantasy world
[] Post-Apocalyptic Earth (Specify general place)
[] Old World Earth, 8th to 3rd century BCE (Specify place and date)
[] Totalitarian future
[] Write-in
How Many Gods are there?
[] One
[] Many
[] The question is irrelevant
WIll you be able to do miracles?
[] Yes
[] No
What are some of your soon-to-be religion's unique features?
[] Write-in
But before we start, it's time for character and world generation:
When and where will this game take place?
[] Generic Fantasy world
[] Post-Apocalyptic Earth (Specify general place)
[] Old World Earth, 8th to 3rd century BCE (Specify place and date)
[] Totalitarian future
[] Write-in
How Many Gods are there?
[] One
[] Many
[] The question is irrelevant
WIll you be able to do miracles?
[] Yes
[] No
What are some of your soon-to-be religion's unique features?
[] Write-in
Stats
First Update
Febuary 7, 133 years A.T.E (After The End)
Your parents are dead. And you may soon join them.
133 years ago, The government of the United States of America and all of its allies declared war on the People's Republic of China and all of their allies, beginning the event known as The End. Those in power, who had long since created various private underground bunkers, fallout shelters, and even bases on other planets, were spared any consequences of their actions, and thus had no hesitation in pushing the red button that would spell doom for at least 90% of the world's population. Your great-grandparents watched in stunned silence at the TV screen in their shelter the old world dying within their hearts, as it would in reality a few short minutes later. As the bombs dropped, the world was covered in nuclear fire, decimating the earth, and quickly creating predators both of man, in the form of raiders and bandits of various kinds who have all but abandoned their humanity, and beast, in the forms of grotesque mutations increasing both the killing instincts and abilities of various animals. Although civilization has begun to sprout anew since that time, it is very much a rarity in this cowardly new world.
You were born on June 31, 115 A.T.E. , in what used to be Melbourne, Victoria. While the city was mostly taken apart by scavengers and monsters, there were still plenty of treasures awaiting someone with a good eye, a good weapon, and lots of luck, even after over a hundred years since the city ceased to produce anything. Although many attempts were made to reform civilization in Australia there, the unreliability of security and resources made it difficult to establish any permanent community with more than 10 people in it. Many people decided to move to greener pastures in an attempt to create a sustainable lifestyle there, but traveling was always more dangerous than staying in one place. So your parents decided to stay in Melbourne and raise you there for however long they were able, which turned out to be quite a while.
Besides scavenging and helping your parents, how did you spend your childhood and early adolesence?
[] Write-in (Expect to see a lot of these. Not always, but very often,)
Your parents are dead. And you may soon join them.
133 years ago, The government of the United States of America and all of its allies declared war on the People's Republic of China and all of their allies, beginning the event known as The End. Those in power, who had long since created various private underground bunkers, fallout shelters, and even bases on other planets, were spared any consequences of their actions, and thus had no hesitation in pushing the red button that would spell doom for at least 90% of the world's population. Your great-grandparents watched in stunned silence at the TV screen in their shelter the old world dying within their hearts, as it would in reality a few short minutes later. As the bombs dropped, the world was covered in nuclear fire, decimating the earth, and quickly creating predators both of man, in the form of raiders and bandits of various kinds who have all but abandoned their humanity, and beast, in the forms of grotesque mutations increasing both the killing instincts and abilities of various animals. Although civilization has begun to sprout anew since that time, it is very much a rarity in this cowardly new world.
You were born on June 31, 115 A.T.E. , in what used to be Melbourne, Victoria. While the city was mostly taken apart by scavengers and monsters, there were still plenty of treasures awaiting someone with a good eye, a good weapon, and lots of luck, even after over a hundred years since the city ceased to produce anything. Although many attempts were made to reform civilization in Australia there, the unreliability of security and resources made it difficult to establish any permanent community with more than 10 people in it. Many people decided to move to greener pastures in an attempt to create a sustainable lifestyle there, but traveling was always more dangerous than staying in one place. So your parents decided to stay in Melbourne and raise you there for however long they were able, which turned out to be quite a while.
Besides scavenging and helping your parents, how did you spend your childhood and early adolesence?
[] Write-in (Expect to see a lot of these. Not always, but very often,)
Pt. 2
[X] You captured one of the mutated animals from the wilderness and kept it as a pet. But no matter how much time passed it never grew tame though it did grow larger. One day your pet escaped its cage and bit you (You still have the scars on your arm) forcing you to put it down. That's when you knew that mundane means would never tame them.
Your early childhood was rather uneventful considering the situation you were in. Although there were thugs who came around to your settlement every once and a while, they were not like the ruthless bandits. They stole the supplies you saved, certainly, but they always left you and your parents unmolested and with enough food to ensure you'd still be there when they returned. On the rare occasions where brutality was needed, your dad told your mother to take you somewhere else which she did without fail.
Your first real encounter with the violence of the world occurred when you were 7 years old. You had just begun to start exploring on your own while your parents were asleep in order to test yourself and discover more of the world, always making sure to carry a heavy stick in order to defend yourself in case you encountered trouble. Looking back, you'd have been better off leaving the stick. More mobility in an emergency.
As you were walking along the city ruins under the hot Australian sun, you came across a puppy being savagely beaten by a group of men armed with sticks much like your own, only more finely shaped and sturdy. As each whack and yelp seemed to echo throughout the lonely city, you watched the beating under the cover of a corner. When the beating was done and the men left, you ran over to the puppy that lay twitching in a pool of its own blood. Knowing that your parents would never allow a future monster to remain alive, you kept in in an old cage you found scavenging nearby, and nursed it back to health.
As the years went by, you saw many changes in the dog, it grew larger, tougher more sinister. And its eyes, which became whiter as time went on, were always showcasing a savage intent. Your parents showed you dogs and other animals from before the end, and you came to realize that the difference was always in the eyes. You also practiced with your stick, and soon became reasonably proficient at wielding it, as well as crafting it to be like the like the group of men's.
At age 14, while you were feeding the puppy, now a dog (You never gave it a name, sensing that it would not be wise to become to attached to it), it broke out of its cage and tackled you, biting at you with what you knew was an intent to kill. With adrenaline pumping into your veins from fear of death, you somehow threw it off, and rolled to grab your stick. As the dog charged at you, you whacked it across the snout sending it flying a short distance. You didn't let up though, you kept hitting it again and again and again, until the dog was unable to make even rudimentary attmepts at defending itself. When you realized this, you rose your bloodied stick high above your head, and thrust it down towards the dog's head. Splat! You did it once more. Crunch! And you kept doing it until you were sure it was long dead.
You never visited the area where you kept the dog ever again, but future visitors would find a small, pitiful cross made out of Popsicle sticks next to a patch of dirt.
At the moment, you have just returned from a scavenging trip only to find a sight horrific beyond imagining . The corpses of your parents are being used by raiders for both soccer in the case of your dad's head, and for your mother.....
.....
....
.....
They do not seem to have noticed you. They are armed with spiked baseball bats. You do not think you'd be able to live with yourself if you attempted to run away, despite the danger.
What's your general battle strategy going to be? You can ask me for many other details if you want before making a decision.
[] Write-in
Bet you thought this would be another failed quest huh? Maybe it already is. But I've decided that as long as people are into it, I'm gonna stick with the idea.
Your early childhood was rather uneventful considering the situation you were in. Although there were thugs who came around to your settlement every once and a while, they were not like the ruthless bandits. They stole the supplies you saved, certainly, but they always left you and your parents unmolested and with enough food to ensure you'd still be there when they returned. On the rare occasions where brutality was needed, your dad told your mother to take you somewhere else which she did without fail.
Your first real encounter with the violence of the world occurred when you were 7 years old. You had just begun to start exploring on your own while your parents were asleep in order to test yourself and discover more of the world, always making sure to carry a heavy stick in order to defend yourself in case you encountered trouble. Looking back, you'd have been better off leaving the stick. More mobility in an emergency.
As you were walking along the city ruins under the hot Australian sun, you came across a puppy being savagely beaten by a group of men armed with sticks much like your own, only more finely shaped and sturdy. As each whack and yelp seemed to echo throughout the lonely city, you watched the beating under the cover of a corner. When the beating was done and the men left, you ran over to the puppy that lay twitching in a pool of its own blood. Knowing that your parents would never allow a future monster to remain alive, you kept in in an old cage you found scavenging nearby, and nursed it back to health.
As the years went by, you saw many changes in the dog, it grew larger, tougher more sinister. And its eyes, which became whiter as time went on, were always showcasing a savage intent. Your parents showed you dogs and other animals from before the end, and you came to realize that the difference was always in the eyes. You also practiced with your stick, and soon became reasonably proficient at wielding it, as well as crafting it to be like the like the group of men's.
At age 14, while you were feeding the puppy, now a dog (You never gave it a name, sensing that it would not be wise to become to attached to it), it broke out of its cage and tackled you, biting at you with what you knew was an intent to kill. With adrenaline pumping into your veins from fear of death, you somehow threw it off, and rolled to grab your stick. As the dog charged at you, you whacked it across the snout sending it flying a short distance. You didn't let up though, you kept hitting it again and again and again, until the dog was unable to make even rudimentary attmepts at defending itself. When you realized this, you rose your bloodied stick high above your head, and thrust it down towards the dog's head. Splat! You did it once more. Crunch! And you kept doing it until you were sure it was long dead.
You never visited the area where you kept the dog ever again, but future visitors would find a small, pitiful cross made out of Popsicle sticks next to a patch of dirt.
At the moment, you have just returned from a scavenging trip only to find a sight horrific beyond imagining . The corpses of your parents are being used by raiders for both soccer in the case of your dad's head, and for your mother.....
.....
....
.....
They do not seem to have noticed you. They are armed with spiked baseball bats. You do not think you'd be able to live with yourself if you attempted to run away, despite the danger.
What's your general battle strategy going to be? You can ask me for many other details if you want before making a decision.
[] Write-in
Bet you thought this would be another failed quest huh? Maybe it already is. But I've decided that as long as people are into it, I'm gonna stick with the idea.