Rites

Desire and Progeny

[xiaochou.name] seeks to understand more about desire and progeny. You may introduce it to those you deem fit to share their thoughts.

ID: 5000309

Type: None

Tips: None

Duration: 1 days

Waits For: 0 days

Marked as New Only on First Occurrence: 0

Starts Automatically: No

Triggers Result Automatically: No

Tag Tips: None

Tag Tips Up: None

Tag Tips Text:

Random Text: None

Random Text Up: None

Actions When Wait Expires

This rite has no actions when the wait expires.

Slots

Slot #1
The Mirror

Locks: No

Is Key: No

Is Empty: No

Is Enemy: No

Conditions:

Pops: None

Activation Conditions

This rite has no activation conditions.

Outcome

Prior

This rite has no prior outcome.

Regular

You had the servants set up a charming tea party in the garden—pomegranate tea, shade, mild hookahs even the ladies enjoyed, and plenty of sweet, dried fruits and candied treats.

Maggie cradled her teacup, sharing her thoughts on heirs with [s1.name].

"Children... well, they're a blessing if you have them, a Purist's gift, a balm for parents' hearts." She took a sip, her eyes downcast. You'd never heard her broach the topic before, so you listened intently. "But I think... if one spends their life in misery for lack of a child, that seems unnecessary. Living is about happiness first—your own happiness, before you can bring it to others. If embracing the one you love brings joy, then even if it doesn't lead to a child... I'd still want to hold them a hundred, a thousand times."

Her cheeks flushed, and she hid her shyness behind her cup. Her words made your heart itch—you longed to embrace her right then, quite literally—if not for [s1.name]'s uncanny magic, you might never have heard such words from Maggie.

[s1.name] studied both your faces, then nodded thoughtfully.

"Thank you, Lady Maggie," it said. "I, too, hope you and your beloved may embrace day and night."

Conditions:

Result:

You found the wandering swordsman in a tavern, predictably draped over a beautiful prostitute, leaning in to sip from her cup.

[s1.name]’s eyes lit up, and it seized the moment to sit across from the swordsman, asking his thoughts on progeny.

The swordsman gave it a withering look, but after a brief stare, his annoyance faded. “If I lack the strength to protect a child, or the means to give them a decent future, I won’t even consider it,” he said with a mocking grin. “Bringing someone into this world just to suffer—what a sin.”

You glanced pointedly at the woman beside him, sneering. “Fine words. But how is this responsible? If you truly believe that, why not take up with a few male whores—”

The swordsman gaped at you, speechless. But [s1.name], as if seeing or knowing something, burst into laughter. The meeting ended in discord, with the Mirror’s uncontrollable giggles ringing in your ears. Still, as you left, you noticed the swordsman muttering and pressing extra coins into the girl’s hand…

Conditions:

Result:

You steeled yourself before finally inviting Jawad to your home, but you’d underestimated his enthusiasm for the topic!

Without a word, he dragged you and [s1.name] to a lavish mansion, leading you down a corridor lined with enormous paintings—not of ancestors or rulers, but of his beloved little Arumina.

Jawad proudly regaled you with trivial tales behind each portrait, from her babbling infancy to her delicate maidenhood. At last, you couldn’t help but ask: Why not hang these at home? His face crumpled. “Oh… oh, well… little Arumina says it’s disgusting and embarrassing. Really? Really?” He seized you, launching into a lament. You gave his shoulder a solemn pat, then turned on your heel and left. Hah. Given another chance, you’d never bring up Arumina again. As for [s1.name], it lingered with Jawad until sunset, returning with the air of someone who’d struck gold…

Conditions:

Result:

[s1.name]'s question left Fatuna stunned. The ever-graceful noblewoman, for the first time in your presence, knocked over her teacup. She had never pondered why one should have a child—every girl wed, then bore one child or many. Her mother had, her friends had, all girls did, becoming "mothers" while still young and innocent, stepping onto a path the world deemed inevitable. But why?

She fell into a long silence, lost in thought, before finally sighing and offering [s1.name] an apology. "I fear I must reflect on this," she said, a bitter smile touching her lips. "Had someone asked me this sooner... I might have known there was another choice."

You watched her retreating figure, the weight of her words leaving you all wordless.

Conditions:

Result:

At [s1.name]'s question, Qais let out a bitter laugh. He told you his mother had urged him, both openly and subtly, more than once.

“She’s always wanted me to settle down quickly—because children mean responsibility and ties, don’t they? With a wife and child, you can’t act so recklessly, so thoughtlessly.” He shook his head helplessly. “I’ve worried her too much.”

On that point, you couldn’t help but agree. Then again, it occurred to you—since you’d rescued Qais and brought him under your banner, he had grown less reckless with his tongue.

Conditions:

Result:

“Shouldn’t this question be asked of our parents?” Arzunal sneered, her radiant face twisting with rare venom. She spoke through clenched teeth: “Bearing a child is the basest, most shameful escape—when one lacks the courage or strength to do what must be done, the final solution is to spawn some poor wretch to bear that cursed hope! They perform their suffering and sacrifice, but what does the child gain? Why should the kid carry the burden?”

Every eye in the room, every goblet, every mirror reflected the fury she’d buried deep. [s1.name] pressed it lips tight. Yes, yes—this was the tale it knew too well. What wretched creatures humans were!

Conditions:

Result:

You received two distinguished guests in the parlor—[s1.name] and Faraj. By the time you stepped in, they were already sharing a hookah, their conversation warm and easy.

“Hmm? Thoughts on children? Well… I’ve seldom pondered it. The elders in the family do nag, true, but I think…” Faraj dabbed the wine from his lips, considering carefully. “Desire is one thing; children are another. Children are a kind of desire—ah, ah, not that sort!—they’re the continuation of a parent’s life, the embodiment of human’s hunger to live forever, no? But for me… I’ve no such hunger. If I can serve loyally, if I can prove my worth, I’d rather burn bright… and vanish.”

He refilled your cup, and the talk meandered elsewhere.

Amid the clinking of glasses, you caught [s1.name] watching you thoughtfully. This meeting with Faraj had clearly deepened it understanding of human desires.

Conditions:

Result:

Shama met you at the most fashionable Perfume shop in the capital. The air was thick with intoxicating scents, shelves lined with exquisite bottles carved like gemstones and crystal. And when Shama stood among them, the tiny reflections dancing across her cheeks…

“You ask my thoughts on carnality and progeny?” She smiled at [s1.name]’s question, lifting a small vial carved from obsidian. She held it beneath [s1.name]’s nose, then gestured for you to inhale as well. “Fresh, clean, elegant, no? Yet this is the essence of poppy, blended with the scent of barley grains… Poppy’s other gift is the madness of dreams, they say, and it’s addictive—but it smells divine, doesn’t it?”

She paid the shopkeeper five gold coins and tucked the vial away.

“So here is my answer, my lords. Desire carries the sweetest, most addictive fragrance. To savor it, one cannot escape the delirium it brings. And that, I believe, is progeny. What madness drives one to drag an innocent child into this world? What arrogance makes one wish to replicate oneself? How deeply must love delude, to crave a kin mingled with another’s blood? Of course, you may dismiss this as the bitter musings of an unhappy past… Like this perfume, if I provoke a thought, a flicker of pleasure, then I am content.”

With grace, she dabbed the essence behind her ears, at her throat, the inside of her wrists—then bowed and swept from the shop.

Conditions:

Result:

Extra

Fixes and Patches
For days afterward, every time you saw [s1.name], it was wielding a tiny hammer, attempting to inlay minuscule gemstones into a long belt.

When you asked, it readily explained—that was a technique once taught to princes and lords’ sons, meant to temper the arrogance of future rulers with its grueling patience.

"Every time I muster the patience to understand humans better, I find you’re all so gifted at tormenting your own kind," [s1.name] declared, tossing aside the mangled belt.

Result:

Action: