You are a shepherd to the departed. You listen to the final whispers of the dead as they descend into the cold, unyielding earth. You know that to fully celebrate the gift of life, we must honor its finale as well.
You have a Brawny Physique,
Tattooed Skin,
and Oily
Hair. Your Face is
Broken, your
Speech Precise. You have
Elegant Clothing. You are
Honorable and
Bitter.
Your age: 43.
🙛 Attributes
HP: 3
Armor: 0
STR: 18
DEX: 16
WIL: 7
🙛 Equipment (7)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Lantern
Oil Can (6 uses)
Stake (d6)
Chains (10ft)
Pulley
Single Gem
Gold: 17
🙛 Bonds
Single Gem: You inherited a Single Gem (500gp, cold and brittle) from a long-dead relative. It arrived with a warning: squander your newfound riches, and a debt long thought forgotten would be called.
🙛 Omens
An ancient tree at the heart of a sleepy village has suddenly withered and died, despite showing no signs of disease. After its trunk was cut, a bloody hand was found in its core.
🙛 Your Past
What did you take from the dead?
A mortal wound from a freed revenant. You were healed, but the disfigurement has made you a pariah. You require neither air nor sustenance but are still subject to pain and death. Trapped between worlds, the dead see you as one of their own.
What tool was invaluable in your work?
Pulley. Great for moving gravestones, rocks, or even bodies.