You walk the line between healer and harrower, knowing the frailty of the flesh but also the secrets that lie within. With the right tools, life and death are merely words.
You have a Rugged Physique,
Weathered Skin,
and Wavy
Hair. Your Face is
Sunken, your
Speech Booming. You have
Bloody Clothing. You are
Humble and
Vengeful.
Your age: 44.
π Attributes
HP: 5
Armor: 0
STR: 12
DEX: 11
WIL: 18
π Equipment (7)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Torch (3 uses)
Bonesaw (d6)
Bandages (3 uses)
Leech (3 uses)
Stained medical finery (petty)
Regrowth Salve (1 uses)
Journal
Gold: 3
π Bonds
Journal: You inherited an old Journal, bound in bark. Each evening, its pages are filled with the events of the day, crassly from the journalβs perspective. The writing is crude, but accurate.
π Omens
The night sky grows dimmer each evening, as if stars are disappearing one by one. Rumors of hellish creatures capturing farmers and pulling them into the Roots are spreading like wildfire. Village elders believe the two are connected.
π Your Past
How have you 'improved' yourself?
You have a replacement eye that can magnify objects, act as a telescope, and provide minimal night vision. You cannot wear anything metal on your head, and the presence of strong magnets make you deprived.
What rare tool is essential to your work?
Regrowth Salve: Regrows a body part over the course of a day. 1 use.