Does anyone have a mediafire/something else link for Rogue Trader core rules?
An unfortunate turn of events have led me stuck without it and an internet that doesn't like P2P one bit

Sup /tg/, looking for the epub/mobi of this or pics of the cities of death missions.

Which setting has the most fleshed out sex droids (in terms of how they work, how they are designed, etc)?

http://archive.moe/_/search/subject/modern%20satyr%20quest/
https://twitter.com/lambiejoe
http://pastebin.com/wTucvMUA

My name is Danny McGill. I used to be normal, but I'm not any more. Ya see my father was a God by name of Dionysus. Real party guy, sex, drugs and rock and roll was his big thing. I don't really remember all that much about him. He's dead now, murdered. And now I'm expected to take his place.

And to show that I'm not all that human, I started growing horns out of the top of my head, started getting this funny thing going on with my eyes. My eyes aren't that obvious yet, but I keep the horns hidden under a cap. So far I've been keeping it a secret.

So far.

Right now I'm 'enjoying' a nice breakfast of half-cooked eggs and burned bacon at a rundown diner, in the company of police officer and former Marine, Peggy Van Owen. We just got done bonding over our mutual love of exercise, now she's treating me to a bad cup of joe and a worse spread of breakfast foods. She looks to be enjoying her badly put together mess of hash browns. Hell, she's almost smiling.

She had switched from gym gear to a sensible blue jeans and black t-shirt combo, platinum blonde hair tied back in a sensible tail. A couple of guys two booths down were continually passing looks down our way. She was a head turner all right.

Me, I'm pretty damn exhausted from our activities, but I try not to show it as I stuff my face and drown it down with the ink black brew they called 'coffee' here.

> so ma'am, did I pass muster?
> I expected more from you Peggy

What happens when a squat gets hungry? In Squat Crusade: The Musical, the players are some of the last Squats in the galaxy, having narrowly escaped the destruction of the Homeworlds. Their objective is to rebuild their race (because 6e says it's okay), but they must deal with a hostile galaxy, enemies who would see them burn, and their own ineptitude.

Philip Ragebeard, Warlord
Mortimer the Lazy, Hearthguard
Kim Il Sung, Guild Pilot
Engineer Velm, Guild Engineer

Welcome to Squat Crusade: The Musical.

Quest Thread General

Quest Thread General pastebin: http://pastebin.com/n2r3M9vG

Update your 4chanX https://github.com/ccd0/4chan-x

Alright you goddamn faggots we've complained about this enough and you've done nothing. I'll never understand why you mouth breathing retards ban everyone for Rule 1 but refuse to deal with shit has nothing, FUCKING NOTHING to do with /tg/. But that's not what this thread is about. Here's what I want: Get the damn quest threads, the damn /a/ fanfiction shit off /tg/ and I won't mail the damn OP image to MSM/SJW fuckwits and they won't crawl all over like a bunch of fucking anal cockroaches over 4chan again. "I broke up with my abusive boyfriend and he sent me this very feel hurting image which triggered me abloobloobloo. Can you find where it came from please?". I don't care how you do it. Just get them off /tg/ and a reply from a mod or admin that it will be done. If you delete this thread before you reply, I will go ahead with the mailing.

Welcome back to Mage's Apprentice quest. We started the last one a bit too late but it was surprisingly popular for being one in the morning.

Previous thread
>http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/36216651/

Rules
>Voting is best of first five (Unless we get more people than last night)
>Rolling is best of first three. No crits.

The helmet you've crafted pulses with green veins that seem to flow all over it. Whatever just happened has imbued the normal metal of the forge with a strange green energy that seems to radiate power. You hold the helmet in your hands and can feel the power radiating from it. There's only one thing left to do now. You slowly lift the helmet above your head, not sure of what will happen next. Carefully you lower it down upon your head. And nothing happens. You were sure something would happen. You can still feel the power coming from it but it doesn't seem to have done anything special. How disappointing. I guess now you need something else to do.

It's late in the afternoon and the sun will be setting in a couple of hours. Your head still pounds from whatever happened earlier. Maybe a glass of water will soothe your mind. William is still missing as well. He rarely stays gone all day without telling you beforehand.

>Try to soothe your head
>Look for William
>Start on another project

Fuck the community edition

>List building at www.forwardkommander.com
>Steamroller scenarios http://sr20x.com
>The Giant List of Podcasts and Blogs http://privateerpressforums.com/showthread.php?76379-Warmachine-Hordes-related-blogs-websites-and-forums
>Warmahordes Books, No Quarter, & IKRPG http://txt.do/o4q1

http://archive.moe/_/search/subject/modern%20satyr%20quest/
https://twitter.com/lambiejoe

My name, as you may or may not know, is Danny McGill. I am your titular 'Modern Satyr'. About a week ago I was just like you, another limp-dick schmuck off the street. Then I turned sixteen, and sprouted a pair of horns out the top of my head, started getting messed up eyes, and my teeth have seen better days.

Oh and I've come into a strange power and heritage. It turns out I'm the spawn of some old Greek god, Dionysus. He left me a junky old pine cone staff and apparently a lot of enemies. I haven't seen anything from them yet, but I'm keeping half an eye out.

Most of my time has been spent experimenting with my new godly abilities, when it hasn't been spent doing the usual boring shit at school. Luckily its the weekend, so I can relax a little.

Except I'm meant to be meeting up with this tough-as-nails former Marine named Van Owen for an early morning run, then heading over to my homeroom teacher's house to do some yard work for a couple of bucks. Not exactly my ideal Saturday, but there are prospects for the day ahead that definitely make it worth while.

So I'm woken up at quarter to five by a blaring alarm on my phone, and I gotta schlep out of bed and get ready for this unholy activity called jogging. I've never been one for the fitness routine. Until recently the most strenuous activity I've ever done was a whole day jerk session. It...uh...didn't end well for me.

Now my options are:

> dress however, who gives a shit
> buckle down and dress for a morning of hard exercise