Name: Charisse   Race: Human

Ht: 5’6, Wt: 130,   Sex: Female,

Archetype: Rogue

HP: 7 / 7   Mana: 0 / 0

Stats:

Physical: 2, Moxie : 3, Spiritual: 2, Luck : 3,

Agility : 3, Magic : 2, Mental : 2, Energy : 2.

Relevant Skills: Agility - Dodge, Agility - Riposte, Archetype - Awareness, Moxie - Deceive, Melee - Knife, Ranged - Dagger, Stealth - Move Silent

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Charisse moved next to a tree. Pressing herself against it, she slowed her breathing. The sounds of battle behind her ceased, likely her friends the winners. Slowly she poked her head around the tree, looking toward a bush twenty feet ahead. The bush started turning around, and Charisse pulled her head back behind the trunk.

One Mississippi, two Mississippi, she started mentally counting. How long do I look behind me when I think I'm being followed? Ten seconds? Twenty? Thirteen Mississippi, fourteen Mississippi, she continued keeping her breathing slow and quiet. At thirty, she paused, but the sound of a leaf rustling kept her in place, picking up the count again, she continued until she hit sixty.

Slowly poking her head around the other side of the tree while keeping a hand on her dagger, she looked for her target, a shrubbery.

The bush was no longer where she last spotted it, through the tree's she caught a few moving leaves, as her gaze followed those, she saw a bush running away from her. As the forest thinned, Charisse ran parallel toward it.

The bush stopped near a tree ahead. As soon as it stopped, Charisse stepped behind a large tree. Carefully moving around the trunk, she closed the distance to the bush, she could hear it panting when she got close. Quietly pulling out a dagger, she took a couple more steps.

Standing next to the bush, she could see the leaves quiver every time it breathed. Counting on whatever it was not knowing she was there, Charisse stabbed down with the dagger as hard as she could.

Her dagger sank into the bush, a yelp of pain followed. Something hard stopped the blade, and the plant twisted, and a branch swung out to Charisse.

She stepped back and pulled back the dagger deflecting the branch. In the center of the plant, faint white orbs looked back at her. Smiling at her discovery, Charisse pointed her blade at the hedge.

"Give up, and I'll let you live after I find out what is making you look like a bush," Charisse said.

One of the branches reached down and pulled a sword out of a mass of leaves. The shining weapon reflected some of the light, and it's unblemished sharp, edge waved threateningly at Charisse.

"That's a nice sword. First time using it?" Charisse said. She pulled out a second dagger, stepped back, and took up a defensive position.

Shaking the bush raised the sword above itself and shook. Charisse hoping the gesture would translate, tilted her head sideways and scrunched up her face. The bush pointed the sword back toward the camp and jabbed in that direction. After a minute of trying to talk to a bush, Charisse decided to pursue a different avenue of communication.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

As soon as the first dagger left her hand, Charisse moved in and stabbed with her right hand. Slicing the air from left to right, Charisse's hand was pushed aside by a branch moving up to block the first dagger. A muffled creak and the bush shook as the thrown dagger sank into the main trunk. The sword dropped from the branches.

A branch swung toward Charisse's face, swinging her right hand up, it deflected the incoming branch. Stepping in and bringing the dagger down, she stabbed deep into the bush. The plant trembled and quivered before wilting.

Backing up, Charisse pulled out another dagger and waited to see if the collapsed shrub moved. After a few seconds, it shimmered as if under heat, then lengthened into a long, curled up shape. The form of a dead man became visible, One knife where his shoulder and neck met, another buried in the meat of an arm. Wrapped around his right index finger was a slowly constricting bit of vine. The plant retreated into a wooden ring on a finger.

Bending down, she reached for the ring, pausing a few inches over it before caution took over. Stepping on the corpse's hand, she wiggled the ring off the ringer using her dagger. Once it was off the hand, she pulled out some twine, looped it around the ring, tied a knot, and dropped the ring into her pocket.

A search of the rest of the corpse netted a heavy pouch full of coins, couple more daggers, and a short sword. Mulling over the weapons, she wondered if your items were melded into the form when transformed, how'd it pull the shortsword? Shrugging, she stood up and jogged back to the bandit camp. Hoping her friends were done clearing.

"Don't shoot, just me," Charisse said when she got close enough to see her friends and was sure they could also see her. Holding both hands up in the air out of caution as she walked. Everyone paused and looked at her. "Went after a runner, I'm guessing he was either the leader or the smartest of them all." Charisse tossed the bag of coins toward Jax.

Jax caught the pouch with one hand. He removed his gauntlet and carefully opened it, giving a slight whistle as he looked inside.

"Wow, 5% of this is still a nice sum. I'm guessing fifty platinum in here." Jax said. He closed the pouch and stuffed it into his armor. He looked at Charisse as he put his gauntlet back on. "Was that all?"

"Some daggers also, otherwise not much else but his clothing, stick, dirt. Should I bring the whole body here?" Charisse said. Feeling Jax's eyes dig into her, Charisse pulled out the daggers she found on the body. Remembering the shortsword, she quickly pulled it out as well. "Sorry, forgot about the sword."

Jax frowned and looked around at the camp. Charisse followed his gaze, noting several bodies lined up near a hole. A small pile of weapons and some wooden crates sat off to the side. She walked up to the collection and dropped off the daggers and shortsword.

"See if you can help Mark in fixing the cart. Todd, Reggie, and I will make sure the bodies are laid to rest." Jax said.

Charisse walked up to Mark as he was gently rubbing the beginnings of a beard. He silently said something before kicking the cart.

"Need help?" Charisse said. Mark's head jerked upward, and he stared past Charisse for a moment.

"No," Mark looked back down at the cart, then blinked a couple of times. "Yeah, we need a wheel and possibly an axel, or we have to make a travois and drag everything."

"What do we have for tools?" Charisse moved around to get a better look at the wagon. The right side, blackened and burnt, a charred crater in the wood where the wheel was, and missing a corner of the bed. "Why…" Charisse stumbled for a moment. "Did the cart attack you?"

"No, the guy ran, and I didn't see he was so close until it was too late." Mark deflated as he looked down.

"Is there a ritual that'll help?"

"Not that I know of," Mark glanced toward a nearby tree. "Think we could make a wheel out of a tree?"

"If we had a chainsaw, maybe, I think we are stuck with travois." Charisse looked around some scattered tools nearby until she found a small ax. "I'll get started on some trees for the poles." Grabbing the ax before Mark responded, Charisse, walked toward some small trees. The weight in her pocket, forcing her to decide if 50% of its value was worth more than being able to turn into a bush.