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,
Tanned Skin,
and Bald
Hair. Your Face is
Square, your
Speech Blunt. You have
Filthy Clothing. You are
Courageous and
Aggressive.
Your age: 21.
🙛 Attributes
HP: 6
Armor: 0
STR: 13
DEX: 14
WIL: 3
🙛 Equipment (5)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Lantern
Oil Can (6 uses)
Needle-Knife (d6)
Protective Gloves (petty)
Mimic Stone
Blood-Red Flower (petty)
Gold: 5
🙛 Bonds
Blood-Red Flower: The Dawn Brigade did your family a service, giving you a dried Blood-Red Flower (petty) as proof. When the flower turns white, it means the favor is owed.
🙛 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.
🙛 Your Past
What went horribly wrong?
You dematerialized a beloved pet. Now it follows you around, invisible but always present. Although it cannot interact with the physical realm, you are able to share its senses. (Add a Fatigue each time.) It follows basic commands.
What alchemical marvel is the product of your latest ingenuity?
Mimic Stone: Records a short phrase that can later be played back.