Yvria:
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
As the horrifyingly-grotesque Crusader is busy tainting your water, you slowly, ever so slowly peek your head up and eye the glowing orb. It doesn't look to be like the man's spotlight, and you test this by quickly flipping your hand up. Nothing happens. Standing up as quickly and quietly as you can, your limbs and fingers shaking from adrenaline, and you rise to your feet. Tentatively, and ever so gently, you creep past the outcropping of rocks you'd have been behind, and the Crusader would still be washing himself. Looping around to the far right, you search for another outcropping of rocks, anything for cover really, (Roll: 16) and are pleasantly surprised as you come across a selection of the mountain that would come up in a low manner, perfect for crawling behind. Dropping down to your belly and forearms, you crawl slowly but surely, and the sounds of the water slishing and heavy, wet objects dropping against the ground refuses to cease.
You come up to the edge of your cover now, and despair. It's a straight shot to the path down the mountain if you gunned it from here, but whether or not you sneaked or sprinted, you're in clear line of the cave and if he looks in your direction while you're moving to it, you'll definitely be spotted. Deciding that he'd probably be more focused on washing himself than staring out into the cliffside at night, you venture to sneak as quietly as you can. You've spent your entire life doing this, after all. Slowly, ever so slowly, you stand up without making noise to the best of your abilities, (Roll: 15) and succeed, being quieter than a church mouse. Crouching now, you're bent over as you close your eyes to steel yourself, before you open them and focus on the distance away to safety.
Breathing in and out quietly to psyche yourself up, you dare peek your head out to view the cave. The Crusader is indeed washing himself, barrel after barrel being dumped over his head and gradually cleaning himself of gore with every waterfall, he would still be completely adorned in his armor. (Roll: 18) Fortunately, he is indeed looking at the cave wall, and not out to you. You suspect he'll stay that way, as he's still got a few barrels to go, and it doesn't look like he's completely cleaned yet. Immediately taking your chance, you run-crouch past the distance, praying to every god there is that you don't fuck up. (Roll: 18) Success. You loop yourself around the path and almost break into a run down the pass. Unfortunately for you, it's pitch-black. Even with your superior eyes, nothing can see in complete darkness, and you find yourself frowning as your eyes adjust.
(Roll: 2) Down the mountainpass, you accidentally catch your foot against a rock, and fall. You let out a faint yelp as you do, and your chin kisses the ground. Cursing quietly and rolling around briefly in pain, you rub your chin and growl. Never the less, you soldier onwards down the mountain, looking for any sort of clearing you can, a hidden cave, anything, really. (Roll: 5)
As you continue walking down the path, the faint sounds of merry-making can be heard. Is it a town? A campsite? Your hopes are bolstered, and you move quickly, eager to put as much distance between you and the horrifying figure as you possibly can. As you move down the path, carefully watching your step every single second, you start to frown. The voices sound...Primitive. Almost gutteral. The path has an overlook cleverly concealed by some rocks, and the area above you is illuminated by a warm campfire's glow. As you peek over the rocks however, your hope quickly turns to despair.
An incredibly large clearing rests below you, at the foot of the mountain. This would normally cause for you to rejoice, as just past this is sweet, sweet, flat land. However. What bars your path now causes your heart to sink. It's a goblin camp site. More like fortress. Countless goblins, never above five feet in height, mill about and rest around multiple camp fires, some of them sparring with rusty swords, fists, or tackles. Many of them are either drinking or completely drunk, and this only serves to boast their merry-making even more. Looking around, (Roll: 14) you spot a few areas for cover where you think you couldn't be seen, but truth be told, it doesn't look good. If this stronghold is here, how did you even get on top of the mountain? You wonder.
Sighing, a magic-user would best answer that, and you don't question it further. It seems this is going to be quite tricky if you don't want to either get raped or killed, probably both.
Status:
Health: 24/24
Mind: Slightly tired.
Nutriments: Perfectly healthy.
Affects: None.
Physical Arsenal: Je'bahdi Crystal, loaded with: 20 copper, 5 silver.
Mental Arsenal: None.
Equipment: Light leather armor in poor condition, one of the straps along the left breast being incredibly worn and nearly falling off. The pouches along the armor not doing much better, one of them completely ripped out of the bottom. Simple animal-hide clothing and undergarments. A small-sized rucksack in good condition, able to hold a healthy amount of items. Two daggers in alright condition, though they could definitely use some maintenance. A waterskin filled with good water.
Core:
Strength - 3
Dexterity - 5
Constitution - 3
Intelligence - 4
Charisma - 6
Perception - 6
Luck - 1
Corruption – 0
Rukarra:
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
Panting as he ruts you as best he can, the man behind you nods even though you weren't looking at him, saying in between breaths, "Heh...Heh, yeah...Sure!..." He then grimaces as he moves forwards a bit to fuck you deeper, and your snatch lets loose wet squealches with every thrust of his hips, his thighs and crotch slapping into your ass to create multiple clap sounds every time his dick hits home. The man in front of you shudders as you move your lips forwards, enveloping his dick with your soft, warm mouth. Coiling your tongue around his cock, he begins thrusting as you also suck, likely giving him his first tongue-fucking experience. Thrusting almost in unison, you're spitted on both cocks at once, and while they might not be big, they feel very good.
All too soon though, the man behind you grips your hips as hard as he can, gritting his teeth together as his thrusts become increasingly rougher and more erratic, and he groans out, "Uuuggnn...Gonna cum~!" The man fucking your face grips the sides of your head as well, the tip of his dick just pushing past the beginnings of your throat as he groans, "Y-yeah, me too!" Being an orc, you can't get pregnant from human seed, fortunately. Though it runs through your mind, are these humans worthy to feed you with their seed? Never the less, your pussy is clenching tighter and tighter, and your orgasm is just over the horizon. This is finally it, it feels so good!
Status:
Health: 28/29 (27+2
Mind: Lust-crazed. (-1 Intelligence) Slightly tired.
Nutriments: Hungry. A bit parched.
Affects: None.
Physical Arsenal: Je'bahdi Crystal, loaded with: 20 copper, 5 silver.
Mental Arsenal: None.
Equipment: Two battles axes, in masterful condition. Rusty, weak iron pauldrons. Leather bra and pants maintained perfectly.
Core:
Strength – 8
Dexterity - 5
Constitution - 6
Intelligence - 2 (-1)
Charisma - 1
Perception - 5
Luck - 4
Corruption - 3
Umbrage:
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
Angela listens to your story through and through while you tell her everything, and she smiles warmly to you once you're finished. "That's a fine reason, a fine reason in deed, Umbrage. Your brother would be proud of you...As if God." Standing up, she walks over to a room divider and mutters something lowly. Not ten seconds later, she's in a pink night gown that somehow suits her perfectly. She smiles down at you again and then gestures towards you, "My, you don't really expect to sleep in all of that armor, do you! You'd be in trouble on all fronts. Feel free to just fling whatever wherever, it's not like you can make a bigger mess than I did!" She chuckles, before moving over to her own bed, and flopping down in it, snuggling in the covers.
Just as you're about to ask her to teach you a spell or two, you get a strong, indescribable feeling to wait until morning. You don't know why, but you feel like it should be done then. Shrugging, you look around the tent and view the multitude of beds to choose from. There would be soft, cushiony sleeping rolls placed all over the place along with a few hammocks hanging from the ceiling, or there would simply be a queen-sized bed on the opposite side of the tent from Angela. All of them looked extremely appealing, and it seems wherever you want to sleep, you can.
If you sleep now, you will not be posted for until morning. The only exceptions to this are if you are woken up by something, or a special circumstance occurs.
Status:
Health: 24/24
Mind: Tired.
Nutriments: Perfectly healthy.
Affects: None.
Physical Arsenal: Je'bahdi Crystal, loaded with: 5 copper.
Mental Arsenal: Pulse wave, Regeneration, Shatter Barrier.
Equipment: Leather armor in good condition. Leather vambraces in good condition. Modified custom-made canesword in perfect condition and quality. Some sweets.
Core:
Strength – 5
Dexterity - 9
Constitution - 4
Intelligence - 5
Charisma - 1
Perception - 3
Luck - 2
Corruption - 0
Vyn:
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
You give your thanks and nod to everyone, giving a little wave of your hand as you turn and start jogging down the path, a hand on the grip of your katana as you do so. You keep a keen eye out for anything and everything in the bushes and along the trees, you're not interested in being ambushed, nor are you wanting to be in another fight anytime soon. Your thoughts drift back to how everyone would be counting on you, especially so since the sun has set and complete darkness will be upon you very soon. You psyche yourself up as you jog, knowing that you'll get to the group, far away as they may be, you have to! You're going to become the future Champion!
You continue to raise your own moral, a smile drifting across your lips between pants of breath, and you turn along the path, though you nearly skid to a stop as your heart sinks in your chest. Up ahead, not twenty feet away, is the leopard that was with the Huntress. Leah, you believed the leopard's name was. She stares at you as you both maintain eye contact for a brief moment, and it's just then that you're about to turn around and sprint back to Ezra and Red, before you notice something in Leah's jaws. It looks like...A scroll?
Slowly, she walks towards you while glaring. Her tail occasionally flicks behind her, and you suspect that if she was here to attack you, she'd have done it in an ambush, and she wouldn't have something obstructing her jaws. Following this line of logic, the Huntress probably has a message for you on that scroll. Letting Leah make her way up to you, she stops at about five feet away, and dips her head down towards the ground. Letting the scroll slip from her jaws, it rolls over to you and brushes against your foot. Giving the leopard one last look, she then turns to the left and leaps through the bushes, disappearing from sight. Bending down, you pick up the scroll and frown. Whatever she had to say, it probably wasn't good. You could read it now, or you could wait until everyone was together so you could all hear it at once. That seems to be the more appropriate option, but the choice is yours.
It's a few minutes of jogging again as things get progressively darker, but eventually, you see the warm light of the small caravan up ahead. Your hopes bolstered that they're perfectly fine, you sprint the rest of the way and pant lightly, before catching your breath. Relieved sighs and praise echo from everyone as you tell them that both Rork and your friend are fine now, though troubled expressions quickly accompany these as you tell them that they still need help. Immediately you all head off towards them, the shepard of the group herding the cattle along as best she could to keep up.
(Encounter roll: 4) It's a good five minutes of brisk walking among the lot of you, before two figures slowly stride out of the trees ahead of you, standing along the path. They're too far away from the light everyone in the small caravan emits to make out any discernible features, and in this darkness, they're little more than silhouettes against the grey landscape. However...Their eyes. Their eyes glow a muted orange, and they're standing rather still, evidently not in a hurry to proclaim themselves, and instead, they're content to simply block your path.
One of the caravaneers to your right however, gasps. She starts trembling and manages to whisper, "V-...Vampires..."
Status:
Health: 24/24
Mind: Clear.
Nutriments: Thirsty. A tad famished. Tired.
Physical Arsenal: Je'bahdi Crystal, loaded with: 20 copper, 5 silver.
Mental Arsenal: Nature's Nourishment, Zephyr's Whisper, Charm Animal.
Affects: Blessed (+1 to all stats) Elf race (Passive mana regeneration along with a slightly larger mana pool.)
Equipment: Light armor in perfect condition. A satchel in good shape, filled with: Blueberries.
Core:
Strength – 5
Dexterity - 5
Constitution – 4
Intelligence – 5
Charisma – 3
Luck – 3
Corruption - 3
Gaen and Ezra:
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
As Vyn leaves into the growing night, she lets a little wave of her hand go before she turns around and runs off, leaving the three of you in silence for a moment, save for Rork's gradually-controlled panting. He then looks over to Ezra as he lays on his back, evidently not having the strength to sit up. "He should be fine...In a few hours. His body just...Needs time to adjust. Isn't natural to tell the brain...Those wounds have healed that quickly." He manages to pant out, nodding to Ezra as much as he's able. "That...Being said...Do you have...Any food?...Going past...A mage's limit will...Drain their body of...Nutrients...It's how mages die...If they overdo it. Anything would...Urk. Be fine. As long as it's nutritionally...Ack...Beneficial." He explains, his voice cracking slightly.
Just then, a rolling cackle emits from the trees high above the three of you. A barking cackle, nay, a laugh, one that echoes through the forest. It almost sounds like it'd come from-...A hyena. Ezra immediately clenches her fists inside of her gauntlets and glares around the trees above her, trying to discern the source of the sound. She would not be ambushed off-guard again, no matter what! It's just then however that the thought of how the Huntress works flashes through your minds. She probably wouldn't warn you like this if she wanted to attack...The element of surprise is one of the most influential factors in a fight. It almost seems like she wants you to expect her.
Just then, the sound of something whistling through the air, followed by a heavy thunk like something lodging itself into a tree rings out from behind the three of you. You all immediately whip around, to see the Huntress languidly laying against the branch of a tree not three feet off the ground. She unwedges her knife from the branch and raises it to her mouth, sticking the tip of it beneath her mask to likely clean her teeth with it. As you all look at her, she flashes you a grin and then a cackle. Her bone-mask covers a bit of her upper mouth with teeth extending down a tad, though her lower jaw is somewhat left uncovered, allowing all of you to see her smile, which is filled with malice, and sharp, dagger-like, pristinely-white teeth. She removes the knife from her mouth and sighs out, "Letting the young Elf go all on her own in the middle of the night after she'd just been gang-raped by a bunch of goblins...Boy, you guys are stunned." She snickers, erupting into another cackle of laughter as her leg drifts off the branch and hangs loosely in the air.
If she were insulted or threatened by anyone there, she would have just snickered and laughed, though made no offensive moves towards the three of you. "I'll be honest. I just want the three of you all to myself...That can't happen if someone comes in and kills you before I can." She explains, examining the edge of her knife. She then sighs as she slides it smoothly into a leather sheath along her ankle. "Right now, your friend's with that group all of you were getting your panties in a knot over. But there's a catch. See, all of you are in vampire territory now." She explains, fixing the three of you with an intense stare. Then, she idly shrugs and grins once more, setting her hands behind her head as if she wouldn't have a care in the world. "Yeaaah, that little group's stopped at the moment. Two vampires're blocking their path right now. I'd give it around...Hhm...An hour tops, until five more show up. Handling two is hell enough, but an entire Brood?" She shakes her head, sighing faintly as if that idea would be suicide.
"As you are, I doubt you could even kill two of them, much less your friend on her lonesome...But hey, at least all of you'll survive!...For a few hours, unless you move. Right now. But hey, who am I to give you advice. I'm trying to kill you, after all." She snickers, erupting into another cackle of laughter as she looks off to the distance. However, slowly looking back towards Ezra, the Huntress flashes her a toothy grin that would send the gauntlet-clad woman's hair on end. "Buuut...If you're lucky. I couuuuuuld be convinced to...Oh, I don't know...Help you out this one time. But then again, I have some terms that I'll collect on if you do. And if not, well...Enjoy being vampire chow, kiddies!" She snickers, letting out a barking laugh.
Standing up now, she hops off the branch with one foot, does a somersault, then lands with a heavy whoosh in front of Ezra. The Huntress picks up a long stick that would in fact be her spear, which had been extremely cleverly concealed up until that point. She then looks down, grinning to the three of you as she slings her spear along her back. "No time for details on my terms, though. You either want my help now, or you all try your luck against a Brood. Your choice, better pick fast."
Gaen's status:
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
Status:
Health: 11/30 (29+2)
Mind: In mild pain.
Nutriments: Very hungry. (-1 Strength, Dexterity, Contitution.) Very thirsty. (-1 Dexterity, Perception, Intelligence.) Exhausted.
Affects: Venombrawler (+2 to health)
Physical Arsenal: Je'bahdi Crystal, loaded with: 20 copper, 5 silver.
Mental Arsenal: Killer Instincts, Iron Will, Bloodlust, Outcast, Weakened by the Sun, Dark Urges. (All passives.)
Equipment: A perfectly-made and maintained axe. A dull shortsword with a sheath. A hunting knife in average condition. Patchy, slightly weakened leather armor, missing an arm completely. The existing arm on the armor is home to several gashes and teeth marks. Two bolas, of masterful make. A well-crafted, slightly curved shortsword.
Core:
Strength - 8 (-1)
Dexterity - 5 (-2)
Constitution - 7 (-1)
Intelligence – 4 (-1)
Charisma - 1
Perception - 5 (-1)
Luck - 1
Corruption - 3
Ezra's status:
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
Status:
Health: 28/29 (27+2)
Mind: Clear.
Nutriments: Hungry. Thirsty. Fatigued. Tired.
Affects: Venombrawlers (+2 to health)
Physical Arsenal: Je'bahdi Crystal, loaded with: 4 silver.
Mental Arsenal: None.
Equipment: Flimsy heavy gauntlets. Light cloth armor in good condition. A well-made, well-maintained dagger. A backpack, containing: Ulmnioson fruit.
Core:
Strength – 7
Dexterity - 7
Constitution - 6
Intelligence - 2
Charisma - 2
Perception - 4
Luck - 1
Corruption - 5
Aataz:
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
As you confidently yell out your prowess in your unbelievably annoyingly-high pitched voice, Rams'kor turns around to his buddies and throws hand in the air, shaking his head. "Ughhhh, this fuckin' guy's getting on my la--" (Roll: 3) You then confidently yell your spell out, with the exception of a strong gust of wind sending you flipping through the air, mucking your spell up and causing your head to briefly ache from the unfinished shout. Rams'kor laughs up at you, snorting as he does so, (Roll: 13) before with a grit of your teeth, you yell your spell again and his laugh is immediately cut off by the man's chin violently hitting the dirt. He groans, trying to lift himself up, but cannot. Surprisingly though, his fists and his feet can move almost perfectly fine. An advantage of his magic, it looks like. Despite this though, his head, torso and limbs still can't get off the ground, and he yells in frustration, rapidly struggling to no end.
Seeing this however, the evident leader stares down at Rams'kor, before muttering something to his armored comrade. Idly flipping the reigns on his horse, he slowly starts striding towards both you and Rams'kor. You focus on Rams'kor and maintain the spell as best you can, (Roll: 18) and you're about to throw a glance over at the leader before your chest tightens and your heartbeat starts thumping almost unbearably loudly in your ears. Your vision quickly grows dark, and the spell you were weaving falters slightly, though thankfully, it wears off after you either de-activate it, the target somehow breaks loose, or you move too far away. It almost feels like you're having a heart attack, and all of this happened only as the bald one started getting closer to you. There's something else, though. You can almost physically feel his gaze roving over you...Was that it? When you almost looked at him, that was when you started feeling like death itself. You're only thankful that you didn't legitimately look at him.
The leader is unlike anything you've encountered before. It would be very wise to flee now, what else he is capable of is a mystery best left unsolved. Alternatively, you could stay and fight. Your heartbeat is slowly returning to its regular speed, and your vision has fully come back to you. It couldn't be that hard if you just didn't look at him...Right?
Status:
Health: 20/20
Mind: Slightly panicking. A bit tired.
Nutriments: Perfectly healthy.
Affects: Slightly nauseous. Heart beating irregularly.
Physical Arsenal: Je'bahdi Crystal, loaded with: 20 copper, 5 silver.
Mental Arsenal: Decoy, Terrify, Enthrall, Paralysis, Manipulate Gravity, Manipulate Attraction, Manipulate Time, Spacial Displacement, Spacial Partitioning.
Equipment: Short sword in perfect condition, the blade gleaming with a beautiful edge, steel in its make. A simple leather belt and scabbard with a few pouches, being in not very good quality, a few of the pouches frayed to the point of uselessness. A loin cloth, and a bandolier in good condition, not needing repair.
Core:
Strength - 1
Dexterity - 5
Constitution - 1
Intelligence - 12
Charisma - 2
Perception - 3
Luck - 5
Corruption – 0
Jeanne:
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
The woman lets loose a rolling giggle and dips slightly below the water at your question, before her smile brightens at your own. Her voice sounds like a beautiful cascading waterfall, soothing your nerves as she talks. "Mmmh...That is a beautiful name. Mine own is Crystella. What is a beautiful maiden like yourself doing out in these plains alone?" She asks, her lips a dark shade of blue that seems to compliment her, upon closer examination, faintly-light-blue skin. After you'd tell her or something of the sort, she smiles and lets loose another beautiful laugh, ending it with an amused sigh.
She then slowly raises a hand from the water, her skin being the same all over her body, and you notice that her fingers are webbed, starting at the middle of each digit. She beckons you forwards, "I do not like speaking from so far away, and I cannot leave the water for very long...Won't you come closer? Please, take your boots off, don't get them wet." She smiles, continuing to idly drift in the water. (Roll: 8) Before you even know it though, your feet are already along the shore, the water just kissing your boots. Your hands are even wrapped around one of your boots, as if you were just preparing to take it off. That's strange...You don't remember moving, nor do you remember bending over to take the boot off...Though while your hands are where they are, it couldn't hurt to just remove them both and get it over with, right? You bet the water feels amazing, all the more since Crystella's in there. She's so beautiful...
Status:
Health: 24/24
Mind: Feeling slightly airy, and giddy.
Nutriments: Slightly thirsty.
Affects: Half-demon. (+10 corruption.)
Physical Arsenal: Je'bahdi Crystal, loaded with: 20 copper, 5 silver.
Mental Arsenal: Slayshade, Death's Melody, Reaper's Cloak, Shadowstep.
Equipment: Black leather gear in good condition, everything upkept to a very respectable degree. A belt, utterly broken, unable to hold anything whatsoever as it would be completely frayed, and ruined in some areas. A longsword of master quality, and along the guard is a blue gem infused with magical energy. The sword is enchanted, causing it to swing faster with the aid of magic from the user. (Note, it is not lighter, it propels itself based on your attack. It will automatically sap your mana as you use it, though it's a very slight drain, practically unnoticable.) A shortsword also of master's quality, but lacking an enchantment of sorts. A wand of perfect quality, oakwood infused with Vampire's Bane along with a pinch of Ghost Spices to give it a seamless casting ability.
Core:
Strength - 2
Dexterity - 8
Constitution - 4
Intelligence - 7
Charisma - 2
Perception - 5
Luck - 2
Corruption - 20
Kiera:
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
You lay on the floor, staring into the cave's ceiling as you contemplate various ways to take succession of the army and lead a charge against "Vincent", or whatever his true name was. Your thoughts leave you laughing at just what you're going to do to that fucker. After a time however, you slowly pick yourself up and string your crossbow along your back, cleverly concealed by your cloak. Stepping through the cave, you ascend the small rock-ramp leading to the surface, and peek your head up to look around. The sun has completely set over the horizon, and it's already nightfall. The surroundings are dark grey, and will soon be pitch-black in a matter of minutes. You don't think that going out right now would be the best of ideas, nor do you really want to run into anything in those plains, especially at night.
You also cannot help but fail to conceal a yawn. Waking up out of that coma reminds you just how tired you actually are, and your eyelids are beginning to get heavy. Never the less, you remove the crystal from your pocket and place it along the back of your hand. Briefly whispering the words required, you fail to stop a gasp from your mouth. Your strength starts draining at an alarming rate, much quicker than you anticipated. It feels like millions of piping-hot needles are jabbing themselves in your body from every direction at once, and the feeling all but intensifies over time. After roughly ten seconds however, looking down at your hand should it be visible, your veins are glowing a faint light blue. They pulse in waves towards the top of your hand, to which the crystal is the same glowing color, pulsing in rhythm with the energy flowing through you. The light from the crystal then rises up and slowly forms an orb. It then shrinks, forming into a half-triangle. It points through the heart of the forest in the distance, and does not falter for even a second. Destination in mind, you de-activate the crystal as your skin feels wet. You've started sweating, and you feel like you just did a bi-athalon of sprinting for twenty miles and then lifting countless weights for hours on end. Never the less, you grit your teeth and endure it.
You could still go outside now, but there's a perfectly viable shelter right here, and you doubt you'll find anything else nearly as good wandering out in the dark. Even more so now that you're practically weakened, and won't be able to fully recover for some time. The choice however, is yours.
If you sleep now, you will not be posted for until morning. The only exceptions to this are if you are woken up by something, or a special circumstance occurs.
Status:
Health: 27/27 (25+2)
Mind: Horny. Tired.
Nutriments: Thirsty. Peckish.
Affects: Venombrawler. (+2 to health)
Physical Arsenal: Je'bahdi Crystal, loaded with: 110 copper, 5 silver.
Mental Arsenal: None.
Equipment: Leather armor in very poor condition. A black fur cloak. A well-maintained crossbow. A somewhat dull knife. Snares, ropes, and crossbow bolts in excellent condition. A small green lizard-like corpse. A small pouch, containing: A white, mottled egg.
Core:
Strength - 3
Dexterity - 8
Constitution - 5
Intelligence - 5
Charisma - 1
Perception - 7
Luck - 1
Corruption - 6