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, Archetype - Awareness, Archetype - Opportunistic Strike, Melee - Fist, Melee - Knife, Moxie - Deceive, Ranged - Dagger

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Charisse was about to drop in on a soldier when she heard Mark call out, "Guys!" Her perch in a tree gave her a good view of the battle.

Glancing in the direction of the sound, she saw Mark with someone standing behind him. A shiny blade held to his neck. Cursing, she glanced at the archer she was going to stab, and he'd already moved a few feet away.

Hoping Mark won't do anything stupid, Charisse dropped down next to her target. The soldier took a step before Charisse could stick her blade in. Rather than opening his neck, the blade sliced down his back through his stiff leather armor.

With a cry, the soldier turned, shortsword in his left-hand hand, swinging it at Charisse.

Charisse leaned back out of the reach of the sword, then lunged forward. The soldier stepped out of the way of the lunge. Spinning around, he threw a backhand at Charisse.

Leather smashed into the side of Charisse's face, knocking her to the ground. Blinking away the stars and spitting out a little bit of blood, she glanced upward. The soldier shifted the sword from his left hand to his right before raising it.

Throwing her left hand over her face, turning to her left side was off the ground, Charisse tried to scream softly.

Meeting the eyes of the solder, Charisse gripped her dagger with the fingers of her right hand. As soon as the sword started coming down, she twisted, rolling to her left as she threw her blade at the soldier.

The blade sliced through the air as it impaled itself into the soldier's armpit. With a cry of pain, the soldier fell toward Charisse, trying to cut her with his sword.

Charisse continued her roll to the side, and the shortsword and soldier landed on the ground next to her. Rolling a few more feet away, she stood up and looked at the facedown attacker. He wasn't moving, the sword partially stuck in the dirt, resting on a limp arm.

Taking a step closer, she reached down and grabbed the sword—no movement, lifting the weapon and stabbing it through the back of his neck. The figure weakly jerked and twitched a few times before going still. Leaving the sword in the corpse, Charisse looked in the direction she remembered Mark's voice yelling from.

From a distance, Mark stood tall in the middle of a small clearing. Blood covered the front of his face and outfit. A smile upon his face, in contrast to the blood. Charisse ran to him to make sure he was ok.

Before Charisse got to Mark, several things stood out, the grass around him looked brown and rotting, even the leaves on nearby trees had turned, and the circle of brown moved with Mark. Slowing and stopping ten feet out, Charisse held up a hand.

"You ok?"

"Never better," Mark took a step forward, and Charisse took a step back.

Looking down, she watched the circle move, slowly creeping forward with Mark. Carefully she reached a hand out into the area.

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A numbness filled her hand before being replaced with pain. Her skin thinned and paled, fingernails turned black, and the hand stiffened. Jerking her hand back, Charisse glared at Mark.

"What is that?" Charisse said.

"New spell," Mark said as he moistened his lips.

"Can you keep it from hurting your friends?" Charisse stepped back a few feet.

"Uh, I think so," Mark paused and furrowed his brow.

"What about the killing plant life thing?" Charisse glanced at a nearby tree where the bark on a branch had split open, revealing black mush inside.

"Uh," Mark looked down at the ground, eyes wide, then he turned around and looked behind him. "Wow."

"Is this spell something that'll make Jax unhappy?"

"Fuckity, I hadn't thought about that." Mark shooked his head and ran a hand through his hair. He turned back toward Charisse and sighed, briefly wetting his lips again. "What?" Mark spat out, then ran his arm across his mouth, wiping some of the dried blood away.

"I'm gonna find Todd, make yourself presentable," Charisse backed away, then turned and ran, looking for a familiar bush. Taking a few seconds to get her bearings,

She didn't see any more soldiers but did find a tree that looked familiar. Walking over to it, she approached the first bush.

"Todd?" She said to a bush. After a few seconds of no reply, she reached out and gently shook the shrug. "Todd?" She found another that seemed familiar and repeated with still no response—still no reply from the second plant.

Charisse felt Mark approached before she saw the nearby plants wilt.

Her chest tightened, causing her to cough. Instinctively reaching a hand up to cover the cough, she turned and looked at Mark. Removing her hand from her mouth, she growled at Mark.

"Fuck Mark, that hurts," Charisse said.

"Sorry, I was planning on turning it off when I got closer," Mark said.

The aura of pain disappeared, along with the tension in Charisse's chest. Reflexively she opened and closed her hands, then wiping her hand on her pants once she saw a bit of blood from when she coughed.

Mark was looking down, hunched over. His lower lip was pulled into his mouth as if he was sucking on it. He slowly started backing away from Charisse. At ten feet, he glanced around, looking in Jax and Reggie's direction, then toward Charisse.

The smile upon his face gave away the spell's reactivation before she could see the plants visibly wilt. Charisse pursed her lips as she moved away from Mark. She stopped at each bush and called out for Todd. She turned around when she heard some rustling behind her.

"Any luck?" Reggie said from behind Charisse.

"No," Charisse said, "But while you're here can you heal me?"

Reggie reached out a hand and touched Charisse on her shoulder. Charisse sighed as energy-filled her, taking away aches and pains. Involuntarily stretching, she sighed.

"Thank you,"

"Hey, guys, any luck finding Todd?" Mark said as he walked up to Reggie and Charisse.

Reggie's blanched and gasped before taking a deep breath. His hands slowly opened and closed into fists as he looked at Mark.

"Mark!" Reggie said, his face tense and jaw tight as he stepped toward his friend. Reggie reached out a hand and touched Mark on the shoulder.

Mark's face went a little green before he turned his head and threw up. His body shook and trembled as he heaved onto the forest floor. Reggie offered a comforting pat on Mark's back as he vomited. Charisse looked toward a nearby bush as if she thought it was Todd. After a long minute of gagging, he stood up, shaking and spitting bile from his mouth.

"Why did you do that?" Mark said.

"I thought you were injured," Reggie said.

"Far from it, I was…" Mark paused, blinked his eyes a bit, then shook his head. "Fuck, that stuff is addictive."

"What stuff?" Reggie looked into Mark's eyes.

"He was playing with magic. He shouldn't have been." Charisse added. "Do you feel better, Mark?"

"Yeah, I hadn't realized it but, damn. It's like the caffeine rush of a can of WhoopAss mixed with joy and happiness all in one. I wonder if,"

Charisse interrupted Mark with a slap. Her right hand smashed against his cheek, jerking his head back. Mark stumbled a step as he regained footing. His face stained as if he was holding back a fart. Charisse quickly stepped back and put her hands in the air.

"No, it is obvious you cannot control yourself. How about you read up on it before you use it anymore." Reggie said as he stepped between Mark and Charisse. He rested a hand on Mark's shoulder. The swelling in his cheek disappeared. Mark trembled a little as Reggie healed him.

"Necromancy wasn't fleshed out until the 2nd Edition." Mark sighed through clenched teeth that, near the end, sounded like a low growl. He closed his eyes and tilted his head before speaking more. "In the First edition, it was vaguely referenced and left up to the game master to work out."

"It appears this GM decided to make necromancy addictive. If you cannot stop yourself, I'm not sure Jax will be able to travel with you." Reggie said.

"I think so; I wonder if there is a skill to resist addiction," Mark said. He froze, completely standing still.

"Great, he went to check," Charisse said. "I hope the soldiers are dead or restrained."

"Yep, any idea where Todd is?" Reggie said.

"Not really," Charisse was going to say more but was interrupted by Mark.

"Fuckity fuck fuck," Mark became animated, and he slapped his face a few times. "There is an addiction skill, and necromancy starts with a base equal to 3 times your physical score, and the resist is your mental score."

"That doesn't seem too bad," Charisse shrugged.

"Even though I only used the spell a few times, I'm almost in rank 3. Also, there is a penalty if I use it multiple times in succession." Mark said.

"If once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny. Consume you, it will, as it did Obi-Wan's apprentice." Charisse said.

"Thanks, Yoda," Mark said.

"At least if you get too far gone, we can reset you and grab you from the glade." Charisse pulled out her dagger and filed a fingernail.

"Gee, thanks." Mark shook his head. "Where the fuck is Todd?"

"I was hoping you'd help; maybe you could detect the magical power of the ring." Charisse made goggles with her hands and scanned the woods.

Reggie and Mark laughed for a second before Mark pointed to the left of Charisse. "Over there."