Posts from Rhemic Empire (2) Auto-translated

+30 to the selected attribute (strength)

So, this is what it's called now.

And learn from the master (I don't remember his name).

Thank you, I'll keep that in mind!

Can the amount of starting gold be randomized?

Nano

A small but cozy apartment in a house that wasn't the most luxurious, nor the most dilapidated, in a part of a moderately populated imperial city that wasn't the most successful, nor the poorest; a school attended equally by boys and girls from families of artisans, petty traders, and modest officials; her own bald, short, pot-bellied father with a mustache who worked with financial papers for one of the local minor aristocrats—these ordinary things made up the young life of Melissa Maywin.
At school, she was part of a track and field club, which she attended several times a week, teaching young novices, training herself, and participating in competitions with other educational institutions. At home, she did all the housework so that her tired father, returning late in the evening from service, could always count on a hearty dinner and healthy rest. In her free time, she socialized with friends, went shopping and to cafes with them, visited nature and the beach, loved music and drawing, and never refused to help kind neighbors when same was needed, and they were always ready to return the warmth.
"What do you want to do when you finish school?" her teachers and other adults would sometimes ask. Melissa would bashfully lower her gaze and answer that she didn't know yet. She studied diligently, but lacked talent or a drive for specific sciences. One day, she raised this question in a conversation with her father, to which he smiled, gently patted his daughter on the head, and said that she was young and would soon find the answer herself—she only needed to listen to her heart.
"Perhaps that is not a very profound thought. But I am incredibly glad that I have such a wonderful daughter and that I have the opportunity to provide her with a full life and freedom of choice; I am sure that your mother, wherever she may be now, is looking at us and is also very happy," his voice trembled, and a tiny tear separated from the corner of his eye and rolled down his cheek. "I love you, Dad, please don't cry..." Melissa herself became emotional and hugged the old man tightly.

That was the last warm family moment she ever experienced. In a matter of weeks, the lives of millions of imperial people changed irrevocably, and the tiny Maywin family happened to be among those who were least fortunate. Melissa's father began working himself to exhaustion—coming home in the dead of night, hardly eating, hardly sleeping, leaving before dawn. He did not let his daughter into the problems despite her cautious questioning, simply brushing it off by saying there was a huge backlog at work. She noticed how he would stand by the window for long periods or sit in an armchair and blankly stare at a point in space.
This continued for some short time until one day he didn't return home at all. The next morning, his daughter learned that her father had been arrested and detained by the men of the nobleman he served. He was accused of incredibly large financial machinations and sentenced to death. Melissa did not understand what was happening; she could achieve neither justice nor even the right to meet with her father. A few days later, she was dryly informed as a matter of fact that he had been executed, and that his property and real estate would be confiscated in favor of the state.
In such a simple manner, the young girl found herself thrown out onto the street with a minimal amount of means for survival. She was, of course, expelled from her decent school as the daughter of a thief, corrupt official, and fraudster, but by then it no longer mattered. Her friends turned away from her—some of their own volition, others by the will of parents who feared that their children's ties to the daughter of a crook would put them under the magnifying glass and heavy hand of those in power.
Having lost all her loved ones, her accustomed life, and any hopes for the future overnight, she did not know what to do next—beg, steal, sell her body, or perhaps even throw herself under a train? The last option became particularly acute when some strange-looking villainous people approached her, practically dragging her by force from the street into a gloomy building in a bad neighborhood of the city. There, bald thugs and scarred two-meter-tall women subjected her to an intense interrogation, shining lamps in her face and forcing her to drink an unpleasant, burning alcoholic beverage. Melissa indifferently told her ordinary story, clutching the mug in weakened hands and not raising her eyes from the tabletop. After she had told everything she could, she was placed in a room with boarded-up windows and locked in. As she fell asleep, she was mentally prepared to wake up either in slavery or on the table of a maniac surgeon.
But the truth turned out to be simpler and more banal, resembling a twist of fate from any average adventure novel popular at the time—the suspicious gang of eerie types went by a pretentious name and represented some kind of guild for providing selfless aid to ordinary people. "Quite implausible, such a thing cannot exist in real life," Melissa thought, listening to the explanation of a rude, grey-haired brute with sad eyes. She sat impassively on the floor, not believing a single word he said, but this facade wavered when he began to speak about her father. Having conducted its own investigation, the guild found that the aristocrat for whom old man Maywin worked was not entirely clean and, falling under the steamroller of reforms, cut off all undesirable ends as best he could, framing and throwing his own treasurer into the maw of the state machine. By the end of the story, the girl, shaken by sobs, curled into a fetal position; one of the two-meter women comforted her and patted her shoulder, while the grey-haired man, embarrassed and stammering, asked "for her own good to abandon the idea of revenge," apparently realizing himself how ridiculous those words sounded at that moment.

She was not the first nor the last person whose life collapsed during those hard years. Representatives of the "league" offered her help in finding housing, work, or even relocation to another city, but she refused. After what she had been through, she realized how fragile the illusion of a prosperous daily routine actually was—an illusion that only yesterday seemed completely unshakable. She mourned her father, despised the scoundrels who destroyed both her life and the lives of other unfortunate souls, and felt neither confidence in the future nor the moral strength to return to the carefree ranks of ordinary citizens at the snap of a finger. Gathering courage and audacity, she asked the grey-haired boss to accept her into the organization. Many of those present tried to dissuade her, mocked her, reproached her for stupidity and youth, and frightened her, but their sad old commander sensed something painfully familiar in her story, tone, and gaze, and approved the decision.
Melissa took a new callsign—Nano—and spent the following year and a half in the ranks of the "Free League." She gained a place she could call her own, work she could consider useful, and people she could consider her new family. Despite their fierce appearance and affected cynicism, most of her comrades turned out to be pleasant and deeply sympathetic people who both supported each other and helped any person in trouble.
At first, they pitied and protected her, giving her lenient assignments; the grey-haired boss practically hovered over her as if she were his own daughter or granddaughter, but this period ended quickly. There was plenty of work and contracts for them, mostly harsh ones, and there weren't enough people, so the girl managed to prove herself, demonstrate the seriousness of her intentions, and justify the responsibility she had signed up for. The final frontier before adult life was training in weapons ownship. The boss and colleagues did not want to train her until the very end, not believing that a fragile former schoolgirl had a place in armed combat where she would be swept away by a single blow. Then someone, laughing and shrugging, suggested trying "the ephemeral"—"it won't hurt to have her underfoot, maybe she'll be useful for something." Two weeks later, a small group including Nano carried out a foray outside the city with the goal of destroying a pack of some disgusting monsters threatening the residents of the suburbs. Information was very scarce, and the degree of danger was greatly underestimated. The guild members won a bloody victory and returned heavily wounded but without losses—thanks to the skill and determination of Melissa, who was the only one to emerge unscathed, if not counting her hands, burned and rubbed raw by endless shooting and reloading. And another month later, she was able to run a training obstacle course with traps, hitting all targets right in the bullseye without thinking for a second. Some of her colleagues, previously considered sharp shooters, shook their heads distrustfully and could not accept reality. In the end, they expertly agreed that these days, drilling in a sports club at an ordinary imperial school makes a person an absolute devil.

Eventually, Nano grew accustomed to such a life and fit into it well. She loved her comrades and was happy to help an ordinary unfortunate person with a problem that the state—whose authority and foresight had dropped to the level of dirt in her eyes after everything she experienced—would not solve for them. With special zeal, she took on those cases whose nature was similar to her own experienced misfortune and helped however she could. Most people did not remain in debt, and although funds were sometimes tight, the "league" in her city lived and operated. Until a certain point.
The exact background of the political events was unclear, but life became worse over time: assignments and requests took on a truly depressing character, families were left with nothing, people died in conflicts between savage Factions, fellow guild members died or retired, and finally, some bigwigs from the local government—unable to do anything useful—decided to play at authority and took the "problem" of the "league" seriously. A raid was carried out on the building, activities were suspended, and members of the organization were put on a city-wide wanted list. The few remaining free friends and colleagues of Nano set off to seek luck in different corners and cities of the Empire, some together and some alone. Some of them suggested that the girl join them, but she gently refused.
For some time now, one beautiful and lofty dream had not given her peace, having completely unexpectedly struck her heart. Half a year before the outcome of all these events, she happened to attend a business conference where she served as a bodyguard for her employer. And there she saw the most beautiful thing in her life—the appearance of an angel in human form. A young girl of dazzling grace and beauty, reading boring financial indicators in a honey-sweet voice, captured an unthinkable number of eyes and ears and mesmerized the audience so that several hundred people, as if on command, held their breath, feeling they had no right to obstruct this miracle, and Nano was among them. "Ipomea Phlox," her client later explained. "Once a dark horse, now an absolute business genius. Eh, where are my twenty years? I'd go to her for a high salary, and even have an office on the same floor as the lady."
Melissa Maywin entered the service of "Citrus" at the end of winter 765. And remembering her father's unoriginal advice, she realized that there was wisdom in it.

Strength: 25
Intelligence: 15
Will: 5
Agility: 35
Perception: 40
Wisdom: 5
Charisma: 25




- Eagle Eye
- Roll
- Sprint
- Wanderer

Equipment: heavy revolver, telescopic baton, cartridges—ordinary and armor-piercing, modern armor, protective goggles, "Free League" emblem, suggestive photo of Ipomea Phlox, weapon care kit.

he took it upon himself and ruined my league for my second character.

The skills in this branch allow the character to create allies of Araid origin and can be learned multiple times. They do not belong to any factions, have no beliefs, and no perks.

It seems I messed something up and added too much (
Billdomaster, please advise on what can be improved.

A young maid stood on her knees, trying to see something through the keyhole. But unfortunately for her, the curtains were tightly drawn, and it was quite dark in the room. She could only hear women's moans. But that was enough for her to gossip with her friends again about the owner.
- Milona," someone said sternly behind her.
The girl jumped up, turned around, and looked at the senior maid with guilty eyes. The latter grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the door of the mistress's bedroom.
- And who raised you?
- I'm sorry, ma'am, I…
- You stick your long nose where it doesn't belong. If you keep doing this, you won't last long here.
- It's just...I feel bad for Mrs. Grasfold. Such a good woman. And her husband...an old fool…
- Milona!
- Sorry.
- Go work!
- Yes, ma'am, okay, ma'am.

- That's enough," said a man in his fifties, covering his ears.
The girl lying next to him in bed stopped groaning and stared blankly ahead.
- Maybe we should talk?" asked the man, but received only silence in response. "Okay. As usual. Nothing changes. You are still the same silent, gloomy girl. Only now everything is much worse. Probably, you don't even have a boyfriend anymore. Did you ever have one? Perhaps you spend all day training and cleaning your rifle.
He got out of bed, walked to the window, opened the curtains, sat down in an armchair, and unfolded the morning newspaper.
- Here, there's already news about your latest client. Well, what was that old idiot thinking? He had ten years left to live, and he refused such sums. He could be lying on a beach somewhere right now, basking in the sun. I almost feel sorry for him. Although, he did live a good life. Not everyone gets to do that. And you, don't you want to live? Or will you just turn into stone? I know you have feelings. You can't fool me, and you can't fool yourself. You're still the same little orphan girl. Only now you don't cry over your parents anymore. Somewhere deep inside, you still have feelings. Why did you bury them so deeply? Are you afraid it will hurt as much as it did back then? Yes, it's obvious that this is exactly what you're afraid of. Are you staying silent? Fine, stay silent.
- Why are we doing this?" suddenly said the girl.
- Doing what?
- Pretending to be lovers.
- It's for security...
- Nonsense.
- People who know suggested that it would be safer for both of us. The rest doesn't matter," sighed the girl. "You can lie down for another half hour and then leave.

Miretta – that's the name of this silent statue. How she became who she is now is already history and has no meaning. Currently, Miretta works as a contract killer. However, orders come in quite rarely. Therefore, the desire to kill, the girl satisfies by hunting wild animals. Killings with a rifle are the only thing that touches Miretta's soul, or rather, helps her not to go crazy and completely turn into nothing. Everything else, fortunately or unfortunately, she has successfully suppressed. Or something still remains? Nevertheless, she continues her modest life, or maybe just existence?

Characteristics:
Strength – 30
Intelligence – 40
Willpower – 40
Agility – 40
Perception – 40
Wisdom – 5
Charisma – 5

Dreyeria
Access to Dreyerian skills. +50 attribute points, +3 OW, +1 OH.


Prosperity: +100% to the reward amount for completing a quest, twice reduced cost of learning Imperial School of Magic, Scholar, Medic, Rogue, Merchant, Cook, Craftsman, Musician, and Enhancer.
Access to skills: Specialist, Expert, Professional, Master, Killer


Asceticism: +3 OW, +1 OH, +20 HP, +3 to movement speed, refusal of rewards and inability to use money except to satisfy basic character needs.


Agility. The character can shoot or cast spells and move simultaneously.


Rifle
+1 to accuracy for each unit of perception.

• Precision Shooting
  +1% to critical hit chance for each unit of intelligence
• Special Technique - Professional
  Reload speed -1
  Accuracy penalty from headshot is not 50%, but 30%.
  Bonus to critical hit chance from precision shooting is not 1%, but 2%.
  Shot in the leg deals normal damage.
  Penalty to dodge and movement speed in prone position is not -80%, but -50%.

Pistol
+1 to dodge for each unit of perception
+3 to movement speed


Scout
+2 to stealth for each unit of agility
+2 to speed

• Silent Kill
  Stealthy attack on opponents who fail a perception check kills them (only melee bladed weapons). Stealthy ranged attacks deal five times the damage.
• Ultimate Skill - Special Training
  +1 to accuracy for each unit of perception and +1 to dodge for each unit of agility when using any type of weapon.
• Special Technique - Killer
  In case of successful stealth, aggressive actions against other characters do not remove the scout's stealth effect. Silent kill at range kills instantly.

Inventory: rifle of the latest model from a well-known company; pistol of the latest model from a well-known company; gun cleaning tools; ammunition for the rifle and pistol; comfortable and practical clothing.

I haven't read Quent's guide and I didn't count the points. I assume you also know that an Ascetic negates the faction bonus. However, a Scout doesn't synergize with a skill focused on ranged weapons. It doesn't work with any combat style except for itself. And Serenity is exclusive to the Sonata faction. Unless, of course, you're an opportunist.

I believe you're also aware that the Ascetic trait negates the faction bonus.

That's clear. I chose this faction for the killer.

However, the Scout doesn't synergize with the skill for rifles. It doesn't work with any combat style except for itself.

Then, how do you deal damage with the same killer if it doesn't work? Or can the killer be taken separately from the scout?

And Serenity is exclusive to the Sonata faction.

I missed that, indeed.

If it doesn't work, why use the same killer unit? Or can you take a killer unit separately from the scout?

It seems to work with the rifle itself. But it's the weapon, not the skill tree. Your stealthy kills won't get any extra accuracy from it.

Well, if the rifle skill doesn't grant accuracy, it's not that big of a deal. Maybe I should take a Cook instead...

Added 5 minutes later
What do you think, Ples, is it better to take a Pistol or a Cook?

Well, if the rifle skill doesn't grant accuracy, then it's not that bad.

It doesn't grant anything. Neither accuracy nor range.

What do you think, Pless, is it better to take the Pistol or the Cook?

The Cook is good, yeah. I was even thinking about taking him myself. However, I'm not sure if he will conflict with your character's alignment. I don't know about you, but I find a pizza-consuming ascetic to be a strange sight.

Am I correct in understanding that even without the skill, everything can be used without penalty?

I'll read it later and tell you what's wrong (if there is anything).

Can the excitement be randomized beforehand?

Ideally, this should be done in advance.

Do I understand correctly that even without the skill, everything can be used without a penalty?

Yes.

Then I’ll just choose randomly; I’ve already decided on the spellcasters.