You are an artisan of the arcane, a smith of subtle forces. In the crucible of your workshop, the laws that govern this world are warped to suit your needs.
You have a Flabby Physique,
Soft Skin,
and Luxurious
Hair. Your Face is
Chiseled, your
Speech Booming. You have
Bloody Clothing. You are
Humble and
Aggressive.
Your age: 32.
🙛 Attributes
HP: 6
Armor: 0
STR: 11
DEX: 6
WIL: 6
🙛 Equipment (7)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Lantern
Oil Can (6 uses)
Needle-Knife (d6)
Protective Gloves (petty)
Blunderbuss (d12, blast, bulky)
Homunculus
Letter (petty)
Gold: 17
🙛 Bonds
Letter: You received a Letter (petty) detailing incontrovertible proof that your true parentage is that of Fae nobility. The note also indicates a date and location where you are to meet them, deep in the the Wood.
🙛 Omens
Hunters talk of a curse that befalls any who kill a beast with a streak of white fur: soon after, they are found dead in their homes. Each day, there are fewer and fewer creatures to hunt.
🙛 Your Past
What went horribly wrong?
Your alchemical recipe worked, but a rival stole the blueprint before your claims could be proven. Take a prototype Blunderbuss that takes one round to reload, and a thirst for revenge.
What alchemical marvel is the product of your latest ingenuity?
Homunculus: A miniature clay replica of yourself that follows your every command. It hates being enthralled to you and complains bitterly whenever possible. Any damage done to the homunculus is also done to you. 3 HP, 4 STR, 13 DEX, 5 WIL.