Keep pressing

Gender: Female

Gear:

Old Short Sword - A worn out of sword, more likely to kill you with Tetanus than anything else. (+1 to Damage, +1 to Melee Attack)

Mercy Giver Dagger - A short and very thin blade

Ill Fitting leather Armour - A set of heavily worn leather armour, smell like a dead horse and weighs about the same. (+1 to Defense.)

Inventory

Reminder of Home: A small selection of gifts from your family, a comfort in hard times.

Odd Seeds: A small bag of small oddly shaped seeds

Skills

Grappling - In a hand to hand fight you know how to use an opponent's weight against them. Give a +1 when grabbed.

Tracking - Being able to read the passage of man and animal is a valuable asset. +1 to Perception checks when trying to track someone or something.

After everything that has happened to you you are in no mood to be messed around. Taking a grip on Weskers forearm you look him dead in the eye.

“I asked a question and I want a answer.” You declare, voice hard as steel.

Wesker for his part takes one look at your expression and decides it would not be smart to deny you a answer. With a deep sigh that seems to make the blush that is rising in his cheeks become even brighter but when he speaks his tone is the same as the one he uses when teaching you how to fight.

“If I didn’t do that then you would be with child by now.” He states, looking you straight in the eye. His expression changing from embarrassment to curiosity as he looks studies you.

“Did they never tell you this back home?” He asks.