Life is a Perpetual Side Quest

Always on a side quest

Looks like it's going to be a long day

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Good chicken must love thy chicken

Whilst twin bovine kings stood sentinel, their axes still, their hearts stirred — for in that sacred cluck was writ the fate of all quests. $PSQ

The ancient goats advanced with their scrolls of judgment, Questor knelt unwavering before the sacred chicken, ready to defend his king against the bureaucracy of destiny.

In the hush of the Grove Eternal, beneath the gaze of kings and tribunal alike, Questor steadied his hand — for balance, not bravery, would crown the chosen feather.

As the feather rose untouched, kingdoms trembled — one cow shouted for order, the other stood for fate, while Questor and the chicken awaited judgment not of beasts, but of destiny itself.

Upon the trembling breath of a fractured world, the feather chose its bearer, and the heavens unscrolled their mind — as kings roared, queens stood, and the silent map of side quests opened at last.

As the feather touched fate, the goats revealed their hearts — fury in red, faith in green, and silence in shadow — each sect certain, each scroll sacred, as the skies above began to remember.

And when the horn was drawn in ink not blood, the feather's name was whispered to the stone — yet none could say if what followed would crown a king… or unmake the quest itself.

And so it was, that amidst prophecy and peril, they paused to gather apples — for even the bearers of fate must nourish themselves between destinies.

Perpetual Side Quest

With bridges frayed and paths multiplying like prophecy undone, Questor led onward — not toward the end, but toward every possible elsewhere.

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He took not the apple, nor the plum — yet the orchard quieted, as if time itself awaited his indecision.