You strike from afar, but that does not make you a coward. You are a musician, the song of your bowstring nought but a warning, singing the silent promise of a quick death.
You have a Lanky Physique,
Soft Skin,
and Luxurious
Hair. Your Face is
Broken, your
Speech Gravelly. You have
Livery Clothing. You are
Tolerant and
Bitter.
Your age: 13.
Attributes
HP: 4
Armor: 1
STR: 18
DEX: 3
WIL: 13
Equipment (7)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Torch (3 uses)
Serrated Knife (d6)
Boiled Leather (1 Armor)
Heartroot Salve (1 uses)
Sessile Oak (d8, bulky)
Blood-Red Flower (petty)
Gold: 15
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
Statues have been weeping blood for months on end, and the wombs of the village have lain barren since they began to fall. A single child has been the only exception, taken by elders overcome with fear and dread.
Your Past
How did you earn your bow?
War. If you are first to attack, your bow gains the blast property for the first round.
What kind of wood is your bow made from?
Sessile Oak (d8, bulky). Slams into targets. On Critical Damage something is torn off.