Posts from 🎀 Wisteria 🎀 Auto-translated

That's exactly the point – there isn't. This entire "organization" is a scripted plot device invented by the GM so that players can simply start the game. And now, either you abandon your own interesting ideas, or you continue playing a paladin among rogues, ignoring the fact that you're in this group, or you don't play at all.

You didn't understand Ment's example. Imagine the real world. Where you're not bound by a storyline. You wander the world, there's always plenty of work for your profession. You have some savings. And you have a conscience. Considering that in real life, with an abundance of available work, a person doesn't have a plot-driven reason to necessarily go work at this particular company, they won't. They'll choose another. If the person is a traveler (and the character is a traveler), they'll continue traveling. Or they might even try their hand at something else, as they have talents and opportunities, and they're not tied down. What's so complicated about this example?

Specifically, my leader will accept anyone who has a brain. And the rest is as described above.

The problem isn't whether someone's example is being used. The problem is whether the character has a motivation to go work for this someone. That is, whether *they* will accept it, not whether *he* will accept them.

You brought up our discussion first, completely out of the blue and in a very accusatory context. Now I understand why; you need to express yourself more clearly.

If I "brought it up," it was in response to Alex, not to you. So it was you who brought up your responses out of nowhere, completely ignoring the context.

That's true, but all that was needed was to do what Alex did: ask a clear question and get a clear answer.

I asked a clear question right away)))

Imagine the real world. Where you are not bound by the plot.

I understand that you are hinting at role-playing justification for joining our group, but that's not relevant here. In role-playing, you also need to remember to wash your face in the morning and go to the bathroom every ten posts. For the start of the game, this doesn't work because the start is clearly defined, and we can't change it; we can only adapt (I wrote those options above). You easily came up with a reason to stop in a random city in the previous game. Here, it's basically the same, just a little more detailed. I would understand if everyone here were demons, but as it is, it's just nonsense.

So, you brought up your answers out of nowhere, completely ignoring the context.

ok)

I immediately asked a clear question.

well, then, bad luck that you encountered such a problem.

I understand that you are hinting at a role-playing justification for joining our group, but that's not relevant here. In role-playing, you also need to remember to wash your face in the morning and go to the toilet every ten posts. This doesn't work for the start of the game because the start is clearly defined, and we can't change it; we can only adapt (I wrote those options above). You easily came up with a reason to stop in a random city in the previous game. Here, it's basically the same, just a little more detailed. I would understand if everyone here were demons, but as it is, it's nonsense.

The point of the questions was about adapting. Not all concepts are suitable. Some are better than others. And the point is to choose those that don't cause role-playing problems for me. I don't even know how many times I need to repeat this.

ok)

My reaction when you said in your post that I should do something that I had already done long before your "advice")))
I'll probably give you some advice too. Don't forget to breathe, just in case. You never know.

Okay, the topic is closed, let's move on.

By the way, if you have any good suggestions for the title, feel free to share them while I'm writing the story. In principle, it can be changed later (before the start), no problem.

Visterian fruits.

Raphael Ambrosius Costo

The Illustrious Adab Enkinabu — Emperor of Luxury, Lord of Silks, Master of Pleasures, and Sovereign of Spices, in other words, a man who single-handedly built one of the largest and most diverse trade networks in Lisliar, was rubbing his hands with satisfaction when his first son was born.
- What a cutie, - he pinched the newborn's cheek, while the baby grabbed his thick, calloused finger with tiny palms. - Tenacious little rascal! Won't let go of what's his!
After what seemed like an endless string of daughters, he finally had an heir to whom he could bequeath his life's work.
- Got it, you idiots?! - he snapped at the flock of chirping, cooing concubines. - Not one of you managed to give me a son, except for her!
He ran his fingers through the golden, tousled locks of the exhausted but happy woman in childbirth and kissed her forehead.
- Now you're my main one, Lily dear. And all of you remember that well! We'll make amends. Daughters are so last century! Whoever bears me more sons will be promoted to elite rank. And I don't want to hear any of this crap anymore! A celebration! Glasses! Wine and champagne! Smokes and music! Come on, come on! - he clapped his hands, urging on the flustered servants.
Behind the feigned cheerfulness and bravado, Adab concealed immense relief. Once, in his youth, hot-headedness, and ignorance, he had made an unpleasant mistake. At the cost of considerable material and labor expenses, he had managed to get his greedy hands on an exotic treasure — a captured fairy of unusual beauty, who pleased the eye with her appearance and the ear with her song. This toy pleased him so much that at one point he decided to "try her out," despite the enormous difference in size. An idea that seemed thrilling and quite good in his drunken mind turned out to be utterly impossible: his actions not only brought him no pleasure but also led to the suffering and death of the tiny creature. With her last breath, the fairy cursed Adab, his seed, and his entire lineage, swearing that it would end with him.
And so it nearly happened — for the next three decades, the merchant suffered one failure after another. He couldn't achieve a productive result with any of his numerous lovers. One conception in a hundred led to pregnancy, one pregnancy in ten didn't end in miscarriage, one child in three was born without serious health complications and survived, and they all turned out to be daughters. But time passed, the success rate gradually increased, the curse weakened, and as his sixties drew to a close, Adab finally managed to father a son.
- Nisan! Nisan Enkinabu! Helloooo there! - while the staff bustled about, the pleased Adab played peek-a-boo with the newborn, covering and uncovering his face with his hands and making funny faces.

The son turned out healthy and lively, ate well and grew quickly, though more in width than in height. For some reason, he was rather clumsy and physically unimpressive, and it was hard to tell what was to blame — an indiscriminate diet and idle lifestyle, individual characteristics, or perhaps some inherited part of the curse. This wasn't the main issue, and no one worried about it, especially since what the son lacked physically was more than compensated for by his razor-sharp mind, which had inherited his father's genius.
At two, Nisan had already learned to read and count; at four, he performed complex calculations in his head; at seven, he independently inspected the factories and shops under his family's management.
At twelve, he opened his own firm, which dealt in the manufacture and processing of jewelry and gained enormous popularity. His father, his wives, the servants, friends, and business partners of the family, all of high society admired the dizzying success of the young prodigy, who had achieved everything on his own without anyone's help, starting from absolute zero. Of course, his father's thousands and millions invested in the enterprise were not considered worthy of mention, because in a successful society, that's just how things are. A worthless paramecium can't create anything even with infinite wealth dumped on its head, but a talented person will recoup all costs a hundredfold.
At thirteen, the successful, wealthy, intelligent, interesting, and magnificent Nisan Enkinabu became thoroughly engrossed in girls, basking in their attention. His youthful, insatiable, healthy body worked overtime, and every morning he woke up buried under a pile of soft and hot female bodies. Some were slaves and his own concubines, some were courtesans, but most were young women from simpler, poorer families, drawn to his status and charm like moths to a flame.
With such a dissolute lifestyle, Nisan early and quickly became addicted to wine, hookah, and other pleasures of the same kind. And despite spending most of the day intoxicated, his cognitive abilities hardly suffered — he ran his business just as shrewdly, was sharp and pleasant in conversation, and the degree of intoxication allowed him to conduct affairs with much greater pleasure, combining the cold calculation of the mind with the ardor of the heart and impulsive urges of the soul.
Youth, money, and energy allowed him to try his hand at various pursuits: Nisan delved into natural sciences, literature, and art, though he abandoned many things at the initial stage. The only thing he was never fundamentally interested in was military affairs. A man of thoughts and ideas, he believed that maiming and killing each other was an activity for monkeys, but he fully accepted this phenomenon as existing in the world of intelligent beings and in nature in general, and saw nothing wrong with them fighting for his own profit or for his entertainment, if they so wished.
The sphere that managed to capture his broad soul seriously and for a long time turned out to be painting. Young Enkinabu visited exhibitions, admired masterpieces in his friends' estates, and bought paintings by the stack, decorating his numerous homes with them. However, the latter didn't last long — very soon he began to paint himself, and in the shortest possible time caught up with and surpassed everything he had initially looked up to at the start of his hobby. A crazy thought suggested burning all those feeble creations, but it was dismissed — after all, someone, even if not the most talented person, had put their soul and feelings into them. Therefore, one part of the "store-bought" works was given away to acquaintances and partners, and the other was shoved into attics to gather dust, to one day be found while cleaning out junk and bring a tear of nostalgia for the shaggy old days.
The young genius took the creative pseudonym Raphael Ambrosius Costo and used it in his art and daily life, leaving the family name only for high-level business dealings.

Nisan — Raphael — came to the obvious and correct conclusion that alcohol had helped him move away from the mechanistic frigidity of the mind and unlock the creative heart chakra, and he was very grateful for that. He began to drink even more, and the focus of his activities shifted from business to creativity. This stung his father a little. Their relationship was excellent — Adab had not just gotten an heir, as he wanted, but a prodigy heir. However, the son did not display the same assertiveness and greed with which his father had once built empires, crushed rivals, and turned over billions, and with age he began to look at business with a less serious perspective, as if he were doing it reluctantly, just for show, wasting his energy on carousing, unnecessary drawings, and other whims. This did not affect his efficiency as a businessman, but his father found it insulting. Adab Enkinabu did not understand, and would never have admitted it if told, but behind the facade of the ruthless, cruel, and efficient magnate, a descendant of a great dynasty, which he seemed to everyone else and to himself, hid a deeply creative and feeling person, just like his offspring. It was just a coincidence that he was fortunate enough to find the object of his passion in their iconic dynastic craft, into which he had plunged headlong, and his own stubbornness and old age, which had gradually ossified his mind, prevented him from fully accepting his son's different character.
They had more than one conversation about legacy and purpose, but neither interlocutor could reach the other. Ultimately, the son decided that his father was suppressing him, and the best solution here would be to temporarily leave his sphere of influence to let both heads cool down and find new paths to compromise. And since this domain is all of Lisliar, the only correct decision was to leave its borders. Of course, what is not allowed for a simple beggar is a piece of cake for the richest and most influential man. A huge sum of money and the monolithic word of the right people allowed the Enkinabu heir to comfortably travel abroad and ensure his unhindered return in the future, when he deems it necessary, while the scheme of autonomous operation of dozens of enterprises, skillfully built over the years, and an impeccable legend would ensure that a long creative leave of absence raised no questions from anyone.

Lisliar, 14.11.696, the great Enkinabu dynasty.

Strength - 1
Endurance - 10
Agility - 1
Perception - 3
Speed - 1
Intelligence - 10
Spirit - 2
Faith - -3
Charisma - 10
Beauty - 5


- concubine
- scholar
- sadism


- business partner
- business (jewelry)
- Guard A (Defender)
- Guard B (Firearms)


- enlightenment potion



Equipment:

- various sets of luxurious clothing for himself, practical clothes for servants and slaves, excitingly alluring clothes for women; various grooming accessories for servants and slaves; a number of diverse intimate items for use with women; an endless supply of fantastic wine and special collector's tobacco; books, scrolls, seals, feathers, and other writing and counting supplies in abundance; a set of his own family jewelry for wearing on different days of the week — rings, chains, bracelets, gemstones; a number of small, easily portable, high-class household items such as pillows, bed linens, small rugs, small figurines — for beautifying rooms he might end up staying in while traveling;
- petty cash;
- high-quality canvases, filigree brushes, and magnificent paints of various types and many colors;
- a small, easily transportable "laboratory" for potion-making with a supply of ingredients;
- a cargo of jewelry — for sale;
- the family heirloom Anfa Enkinabu.

Visterian fruits.

So, it's about fruits or a crimson dawn, what kind of terrible person are you?

And in the expansion, Heroist is a chubby guy.

I'll wait for Heroist's review and then I'll decide based on his main character.

Added 6 minutes later
I just need to decide between

a boy

and a girl

A boy. It won't be as upsetting if he gets raped.

You don't start in Lisliar for that... In countries with a strong cultural influence of the church, they won't jump on you after a love potion, but will introduce you to their parents...

You don't start in Lisliar for something like that... In countries with a strong cultural influence of the church, they won't jump on you after a love potion, but will introduce you to their parents...

And that's the goal for the organization - to free Airiska from the clutches of the church and fill it with the cultural influence of the enlightened East...

Imagine a different situation, also in real life: there's some kind of music event, and a person is a fan of that type of music, but they know for sure that at this event, people will be actively smoking [various substances]. And they are a staunch Republican, they don't like or respect [those substances], and they look at the people who enjoy them as if they are strange (even if they don't necessarily argue vehemently that it should all be banned, it's just unpleasant for them based on their beliefs). Would they go to this event? Probably, at most, they would order the album on a disc, but they wouldn't participate personally.

That's how people become "no-lifers."

Archaeology
The ability to determine the purpose and effects of artifacts [5]

Is it necessary? Because it seems very expensive, so it must be useful.

Raphael Ambrosius Kosto

Too chubby? Well, this job isn't right for my character. I need to look for something else.

Raphael Ambrosius Kosto

In the picture, a fat and not even charming guy.

Beauty: 5

Hmm...