Yes

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.

You are overcome with a sense that this is the only moment you will have to talk about this. Locking eyes with Wesker you give him a moment to look deep into your eyes, seeing the determination that lies within.

“I know something has been bothering you,” you begin, your voice much more steady than you feel. “If you are holding something back, something that might end up getting one of us killed then I need to know about it.”

That last part caught even you off guard, the fight with the bandits had shaken you badly but you had not really given much thought to the possibility of fights down the road. Let alone the chance that one of you could be killed.

For his part Wesker looked horribly uncomfortable, squirming where he stood as if his clothing was filled with Lice. When he finally managed to **** the words out they came in a staccato stutter that was totally unlike him.

“I just...I never meant to….to take advantage…” He trailed off, he could not bring himself to meet your gaze for more than a second at a time.

You really struggle to understand what it is he means as you both stand in the clearing…..