You are a specter in the night, a fleeting shadow that slips by its prey, unseen. Each kill is a test of cunning and animal determination, a contest between life and death. You know that one day you will lose. You look forward to it.
You have a Athletic Physique,
Oily Skin,
and Curly
Hair. Your Face is
Rakish, your
Speech Booming. You have
Rancid Clothing. You are
Humble and
Vengeful.
Your age: 17.
π Attributes
HP: 6
Armor: 1
STR: 5
DEX: 7
WIL: 14
π Equipment (8)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Torch (3 uses)
Tarp
Boiled Leather (1 Armor)
Short Sword (d6)
Spring-Loaded Trap
Rime Seed (1 uses)
Spike and Cord
Whistle (petty)
Gold: 9
π Bonds
Whistle: You carved a Whistle (petty) from an Oak Lordβs branch. Your act did not go unnoticed. You cannot seem to rid yourself of the whistle either.
π Omens
The moon turns a deep crimson, bathing the night in an eerie, blood-red light. Some say it heralds a time of chaos and strife, as the boundaries between the Wood and the mortal realm grow thin.
π Your Past
What did you last hunt?
An ice nettle, trapping and draining sheep. You lost your commission when the fungus you introduced killed half the flock. Take a Rime Seed (1 use). It freezes any body of water, no matter the size. Don't eat it.
What tool is always in your pack?
Spike and Cord: For traversing difficult terrain or for creating makeshift traps and structures.