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 Athletic Physique,
Scarred Skin,
and Bald
Hair. Your Face is
Sharp, your
Speech Stuttering. You have
Frayed Clothing. You are
Humble and
Lazy.
Your age: 38.
Attributes
HP: 1
Armor: 0
STR: 12
DEX: 16
WIL: 11
Equipment (7)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Torch (3 uses)
Bonesaw (d6)
Bandages (3 uses)
Leech (3 uses)
Stained medical finery (petty)
Quicksilver (4 uses)
Miniature Lute
Gold: 5
Bonds
Miniature Lute: An entertainer once visited your home, filling it with story and song. He left one day without a word, leaving behind only A Miniature Lute. Something rattles inside.
Omens
The songbirds of the Wood have fallen eerily silent as of late. Hunters claim that a spectral figure has been spotted wandering the forest, gazing longingly at anyone it encounters.
Your Past
How have you 'improved' yourself?
One arm is fully metal and comes off at the shoulder. It can be used as a weapon (d8, bulky when not attached) and can move independently if you are within sight of it.
What rare tool is essential to your work?
Quicksilver: A stimulant. Go first in combat, and automatically pass any WIL saves for one hour. Addictive: Save STR or become deprived after 24 hours without it. 4 uses.