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Chapter 0


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Today marks the conclusion of six months of specialized military operations training encompassing a diverse range of skills and knowledge. The tests you underwent ranged from typical military scenarios to the bizarre and downright peculiar. Throughout, you were repeatedly informed that 20% of those selected were meant to make the others shine or rise to the occasion. Your trainers drilled into you the mantra, "You are not the 20%; let's prove it."

However, after hearing this declaration countless times, it began to sound like an empty statement.

As the DM, I need you to perform the following roles:

  1. Provide three rolls at your highest skill, regardless of its nature. Sum up the successes and provide me with that number.

  2. Offer three rolls at your highest basic stat and three rolls at your highest combat skill. List these three numbers separately; they will be your test results.

Life took an unexpected turn, steering some of you out of individual control. Some soared too close to the sun, akin to Icarus, only to have the jealous sun melt away their wings, sending them plummeting to the coldest, darkest depths of society.

Others sought refuge here as an escape from their previous lives, with D class and SCP Foundation offering yet another safety net in a long list of such handles. Each time they found a handle, it seemed to lower them further in life until an external force compelled them to step up.

For some, these classes provide a semblance of their former regimented lives. Being a D class without a program like this feels like waiting for death, betting on whether the next test is one they can survive or if they're simply waiting to test their remains.

In the midst of the last testing phase, "unexpected" containment breaches occurred, interrupting the process. Teams known as "D-MTFs" were swiftly formed and are now rapidly being deployed. Among the D classes, rumors circulate that the breaches were either expected or planned.

Today marks the end of those tests, and the mood is light, as one successful operation stands between the underprivileged D classes and the freedom of becoming an MTF unit.

Your task, however, stands out, as your assignment involved two teams. Please flip a coin or use a method with 50% odds to determine which team you were placed on. Everyone selected would have been led by an MTF team member to a central room.





The room is generally bare, besides a table heaped with supplies or armors and the like, four soldiers, a tall man dressed strangely and covered in tattoos, and two cylinder style robots with a small animated screen holding the position of its faces.



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Aaron was one of those that flew too close to the sun, after years of performing on a legal level, he was offered to make one last job. And he was framed for the murder of an innocent woman. After joining the foundation, Aaron got the good side of being a D-class, no memory wipes, quarters that were a bit better than usual, not that the foundation was unnecessarily cruel with D-classes, after all the foundation was not this type of organization, but Aaron was always charismatic, and testing SCP-3079 was a breeze for the young magician. Even though things were good, Aaron was still a prisoner, and after he got offered the opportunity to see the world again, he couldn't resist it.

Aaron had just gotten into the room, he also just had gotten his usual throwing knifes and beretta pistol, he wasn't a guns guy, he preferred the knifes, but better safe than sorry, after putting those in his holster, he pulled a coin out of thin air, those that worked with him might have already been debriefed on the fact that he learned a bit of actual (but usually useless) real magic from SCP-3079, but those that were not debriefed would have just thought he was doing some normal street magician trick, but really well done, it was his specialty after all.

"So... this is the one huh? I wonder what kind of weird chaos or cosmic horror they have in store for us this time, whatever it is, I'd like to stop for doughnuts at some point!"


Logo_of_the_SCP_Foundation.png.07eab085cf03797dd58ea10f7ac35a3d.png011c7781c182130fc38ab803cd3d790a.jpg.d529882bea1a33958e7c118154c41272.jpgAaron Scott

ST 10 | DX 13 | IQ 11 | HT 10 | Will 11 | Per 11 | Speed 5.75 |
|Move 5 | HP 10/10 | FP 10/10 | Encumbrance: None |


Sleight of hands 19
10; 10; 14
3d6;3d6;3d6 [3,2,5]; [3,2,5,5,3,2]; [3,2,5,5,3,2,6,3,5]
DX 13
10; 11; 7
3d6;3d6;3d6 [4,4,2]; [4,4,2,2,3,6]; [4,4,2,2,3,6,3,3,1]
Thrown Knifes 14
10; 10; 11
3d6;3d6;3d6 [5,3,2]; [5,3,2,2,4,4]; [5,3,2,2,4,4,3,6,2]
choice of team, i forgot (even or odd)
1d6 5
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spacer.pngDuring these six months Milena Viktorovna kept distance from the rest of the D class, intimidated by the scum and villainy that surround her, she would prefer to study these subjects from beyond a reinforced window but alas thats not possible, to make things worse she has to compete in these silly exercises, a waste of her skills.

6 months are a lot of time for a prodigy like her, she has labelled most of the participants of the experiment, took notes about them and for a few even listed a diagnosis.

Useless, but she was bored.

To further reinforce the barrier between her and the rabble she spoke in Russian, pretending to barely understand english, faking ignorance to fit in.


The last day, finally it's over, at this point Milena doesnt care much wheter she pass or not, the foundation wasted 6 months of her time, time she could have spent on serious projects, her research is way more important than this.

But they freed her , the minimum she can do is play along...for a bit.


She stop not too far from Aaron, surprised to see he survived for so long, the only reasonable conclusion is that the test is rigged. She smile, looks like she'll pass it

roll results

Milena go in the first team(even result)

She rolled 3 success on her highest skill, with a margin of success of 12,6 and 8 (total 26)

She rolled HT (12) for basic attribute, rolled 3 success 10, 10 and 12

she rolled brawling(12) for combat, one success 10, two failures 15 and 16


Edited by Rudra (see edit history)
team choice: even or odd
1d6 2
physician skill 19
7; 13; 11
3d6;3d6;3d6 [1,3,3]; [1,3,3,4,6,3]; [1,3,3,4,6,3,3,3,5]
10; 10; 12
3d6;3d6;3d6 [3,3,4]; [3,3,4,4,1,5]; [3,3,4,4,1,5,2,4,6]
15; 10; 16
3d6;3d6;3d6 [3,6,6]; [3,6,6,4,1,5]; [3,6,6,4,1,5,6,5,5]
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MicheGURPS 1.jpegal Fionn MacCreedy

ST: 11 | DX: 12 | IQ: 11 | HT: 10 | Will: 11(13) | PER: 11 | Speed: 5.5

HP: 11/11 | FP: 10/10 | Dodge: 8 | Parry: 12 (Brawling) / 9 (Knife) | Thr: 1d-1 | Sw: 1d+1

Fionn worked hard throughout his indoctrination and training. Not always the most successful student in school, this time he was determined to achieve something better. The Foundation had offered him a life line out of both prison and the peculiar, trauma of whatever happened on that hot, forgotten, summer night. He even had to admit, the shrink had helped. At least a little. Since he'd been undergoing his sessions with Dr. Reich, the voices had backed off a little. All except Mary. But even she'd settled down to something that was more of a curious murmur instead of her usual dire warnings and constant 'I told you so's' whenever he'd managed to screw something else up. Regardless, improvement was improvement and it was all thanks to the Foundation. Somewhere, in the deepest depths of his heart, he hoped the people here could help him finally unlock what happened that night. Help him discover the truth. Did he really hurt those people? Kill them? Or is he really innocent as he believes? And if so, then what little bit of the devil's own kin did?

He'd just finished cleaning and rebuilding the carburetor for the old '67 Ford his instructors had tasked him with getting into shape when the call came. Why they wanted the old gas guzzler back on the road, he didn't know and didn't ask. Clearly there were more important things on his immediate plate as his orders to report were clear that dallying wasn't going to be tolerated. Wiping his hands on an oily rag, Fionn quickly snatches his pistol and jams it into the pocket of his coveralls and hurries off to join the others assigned to his task group.

Group Check

Highest Skill(Brawling)

Highest Stat(DEX)

Highest Combat(Brawling)

ResultsGroup 1
Total Highest Skill: +6,+4,+4 = +14
Total Highest Stat: +1, +5, +5 = +11
Total Combat Skill: +7, +10, +3 = +20

Edited by DM-Tareth (see edit history)
Group Check
1d2 1
Highest Skill(Brawling)
repeat(3d6,3) 2,4,4,3,4,5,6,4,2
Highest Stat(DEX)
repeat(3d6,3) 5,3,3,3,2,2,3,2,2
Highest Combat(Brawling)
repeat(3d6,3) 5,1,3,1,2,3,6,3,4
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Kate Winters

Kate sighed heavily in the middle of their cell, idly twiddling her pen. Six months since the beginning of that program, and throughout all of it, she still wasn't sure how she passed. When she saw all the other D classes, she expected to be left in the dust, but she made it. Somewhat. She looked to the side, watching the half erased symbol she scribbled months ago. Maybe that was why. She had a dream yesterday, the same one as usual. Normally she'd report it but... well, it was the same, movement by movement, building by building. Word for word...

"Snap out of it!"

The door of her cell opened, signalling that it was time. She got up and walked to the room, looking at the other D Class, none of which she recognised. Or perhaps she did, but the chaos of the program made her forget. She didn't have the most reliable memory. More importantly though was the tattooed man. Were they..? Ah, she'd find out soon enough. It didn't really matter

Test results

Team Choice: 2

Thaumatology results: 16 (7,9,16)

IQ results: Three successes (12, 8, 12)

Knife combat results: Two successes (13, 7, 14)

Edited by Abalon
That went... better than expected (see edit history)
Team Choice
1d2 2
repeat(3d6,3) 1,5,1,2,6,1,5,6,5
repeat(3d6,3) 4,6,2,3,4,1,4,3,5
Knife Combat
repeat(3d6,3) 5,6,2,4,2,1,6,2,6
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